#13 switches between she/they and any

[ilovemedia]

The doctor is genderfluid

Reblog with your Doctor Who gender headcanons

I’m curious to see how everyone interprets the Doctor’s gender identity

[meelusinee]

SHE'S THE ONLY GIRL THAT I WANNA LOVE | MARAUDERS X READER

word count \ 1.8k | fluffy fluff | slash / poly!marauders x reader

in which you get tickets to the marauders, courtesy of your friend lily

The Marauders were your favorite band.

Their music varied depending on who wrote the song. They all knew how to play and instrument and how to sing, each of them having their own album of music named after them.

James was the album you went to when you wanted a good vibe. 13 songs each with an upbeat vibe, mostly about love, let everyone easily know just how much of a hopeless romantic he was.

Remus was an emotional wreck to say the least, both the album and the person. He had a gothic style to some of his music, and his descriptions of love were enough to make any grown man cry. Sometimes the topics got extreme within his albums, so you made sure not to listen to it unless you were struggling.

Sirius was a mess of emotions that sent you on a rollercoaster between the two. Switching back and forth between fuckboy vibes and childhood trauma turned into pop music, it was an album you listened to whenever driving, especially for this concert.

You and your friends were dressed in a rockstar kind of aesthetic, red and black mixing together with the showing off of your body. The venue was completely packed, your bodies all pressed together as you tried to find yourselves a booth.

One of your friends that you had made recently, Lily Evans, had gotten the whole friend group free tickets to see them live in a small concert venue. As far as you and your group knew, she was dating at least one of them. There was no other way she’d get the tickets for free otherwise.

Little did you know how wrong you really were.

“Do you three remember the girl I told you about a while back?” Lily asked the three guys, leaning against the wall of the recording booth as they practiced for their upcoming concert.

James, Remus, and Sirius all looked up at that.

“Yeah?” James asked her curiously. “What about her? Is she okay? Do you have any updates?”

Remus sighed, undoing his guitar from his shoulder. “Jesus, James. You sound like a stalker.”

“He has a point,” Sirius grumbled to Remus, looking at Lily as his face softened at the mention of you. “Is the lady okay?”

Lily had noticed that the three of them had developed a crush on you as soon as she mentioned you to them. She had done a couple of tests, showing photos and telling them about your day, which only seemed to make them fall farther. You weren’t aware of it, but some of their best selling romance songs were written about you.

Despite all of that, none of them knew you.

“She’s fine,” Lily said, a lazy Chesire cat smirk growing on her face as she spoke. “In fact, she’s visiting town this week.”

“She is?” James asked excitedly.

Sirius gasped, his smile matching James. “We could meet her! Right, we can do that?”

“That sounds like a horrible power dynamic.” Remus shut them both down, standing up and hanging his guitar up. “She’s one of our fans, a fan we aren’t meant to know. It’s manipulative.”

“Oh please!” Sirius said. “You played psychology tricks on me back in Sixth Year when I said I wasn’t gay after you asked me out!”

“He literally just showed his hand covered in rings.” James chuckled, making sure his guitar was tuned.

“Exactly!” Sirius said. “Psychological trick!”

Lily sighed at the three of them, knocking her shoe against the wall to grab their attention. “Do you want to meet her or not?”

“Obviously!” James and Sirius said in unison. Remus sighed before shrugging, looking between the two of his partners before over at Lily.

“Sure,” he shrugged.

Lily smirked, placing her phone in her pocket before making a grabbing motion with her hand. “Free tickets, or it’s a no go.”

You were there when The Marauders began to set up their equipment, wincing slightly as Lily stood up and dragged you near the stage. There wasn’t anyone where you were just yet luckily, which gave you a good view of the band members.

“You three!” Lily called out, not listening to you when you tried to shush her. Did she not realize they were extremely busy right now?

The three walked up to the edge of the stage, James kneeling down while the other two stood there. “Hi Lils! Hi Lils’ friend!”

“Hi,” you whispered quietly, waving your hand.

“Y/N,” Sirius said with a smirk, snapping his fingers as he looked at you. “I love your makeup.”

You blushed as he noticed you, not sure how he knew your name. You looked at Lily incredulously, eyebrows furrowed as she sent you a sheepish yet not sorry smile.

“This is the band!” she said. “James, Sirius, and Remus. You three, meet Y/N!” 

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Remus said calmly, slowly kneeling down in front of you with a big grunt. It seemed to pain him, you assumed it was something to do with his scars.

“Nice to meet you too,” you whispered quietly, shaking his hand with a small but excited smile.

“You’re much more beautiful than Lils here gave you credit for.” James chuckled, with Lily nudging his arm in retaliation. “Sorry.”

“You told them about me?” you asked her incredulously, sighing softly as she nodded.

“Doesn’t matter much now,” Sirius said, a small smirk on his face as he walked backwards while playing a string of his guitar. “All that matters now is you enjoy the show, yeah?”

“Yeah!” you said, chuckling softly in shock.

James smiled and jumped up as soon as he could, getting back to setting his instrument up. Remus was still there, most likely preparing himself for sitting up after sitting down.

“What’s your favorite song?” he asked you. “I’ll play it for you.”

You gasped before giggling softly, hands resting on the edge of the stage as you stared up at him. “You really would? Really?”

“Mhm.” he smiled gently.

You kicked your foot aimlessly back and forth as you thought, not sure what song to choose. “I think I love all of them,” you mumbled quietly. “but I think that, if I had to choose any, it’d be Like Real People Do.”

“Really?” he asked, a small smirk on his face.

“Or Mary.” you said, giggling softly.

“I can work with that.” he said, standing back up. “I’ll play one of them for you, okay dove?”

You nodded up at him dazedly, heart fluttering at the ‘dove’ nickname. You were absolutely done for, Lily having to drag you back out to your booth.

“We have our third act for you ready tonight!” Sirius called into the microphone, his setlist having just finished. He played a mix of genres. Black Dog, Smells Like Teen Spirit, MAMMAMIA, Holidays, GASOLINE, and Family Line. James had played five songs instead of six. Ballroom Blitz, which Sirius and Remus joined in on, Flawless, The Less I Know About The Better, Head Over Heels, and Out of My League. “Are you all ready?”

You smiled as the crowd cheered for Remus to get on stage, Sirius quickly rushing him off the drums. Remus was quite a fan favorite with some of the girls within the fandom, a lot of people admiring his quiet nature. He started with Starman and Iris, his setlist shorter due to a small voice injury. He finished Iris before strumming the chords to Mary, his eyes locking on you as they played.

You felt your cheeks blushing wildly as he began to play, noticing how James and Sirius also seemed to know exactly what was going on. You blushed even farther as he began talking, his voice husky within the microphone.

“Tonight is a little bit different than usual,” Remus said, the audience cheering at him. “I wanted to change this song to fit the vibe.”

The crowd cheered as he moved himself closer to the microphone, a small smirk on his face.

“Y/N is the girl that I wanna kiss,” he sang, eyes locking onto you. “She’s got big red eyes and big red lips. She’s got big sharp teeth and big fat hips.”

“Y/N is the girl that I wanna fuck.” he sung, his calm voice radiating through the stage speakers. “She’s got leather heart and leather gloves, she’s the only girl that I wanna love.”

You panic drank your Shirley Temple as he continued singing, not sure how else to hide your extreme blush.

You were a goner.

“He dedicated the song to you, hm?” 

You turned around as you heard Sirius’ voice, gasping before sighing softly. You had a small cigarette in your hand, an unlit one in his as he leaned on the wall beside you.

“Yeah,” you whispered with a blush. “He asked me about it before he stood back up earlier.”

“Sneaky bastard.” Sirius chuckled, lighting his cigarette and puffing it out. “Surprised he did, to be honest with you. Seems like a James thing.”

You shrugged before smiling softly.

“He’s kinda scared of talking to you.” Sirius said.

“Why?” you asked him. Were you a scary person? You didn’t think so. But maybe he did?

“He doesn’t want to feel like he’s manipulating you into liking him because of his power over you.” Sirius shrugged. “Parasocial or whatever. He doesn’t wanna mess it up. You know?”

“Oh.” you whispered. “I think I know.”

“But I disagree,” he said calmly, looking at you. “You’re too beautiful not to talk to.”

“Oh!” you said, blushing wildly. You weren’t sure which one you were meant to be attracted to. They were all nice guys.

“You’re silly.” he chuckled softly, blowing smoke to the side. “Can I have your number? I can make a group chat with us in it.”

“You and Remus?” you asked incredulously.

“And James.” he smirked. “Wouldn’t want you feeling lonely.”

You smiled softly at him, blowing a puff of smoke out yourself. “Okay.” 

SIRIUS: I am here to announce the one and only inside of a brand new group chat

SIRIUS: The amazing, wonderful, magnificent Y/N!

JAMES: Y/N? From the concert?

Y/N: hi!!!

REMUS: hello there Y/N

JAMES: Y/N HI THERE

Y/N: hi there james! hi remus!

SIRIUS: I kidnapped Y/N’s number so we can talk to her

JAMES: YOU CAN KIDNAP NUMBERS???

REMUS: no james, you cannot

JAMES: OH OKAY

SIRIUS: He smashed his phone one time and accidentally put it on permanent caps lock

JAMES: IT WAS VERY UNFORTUNATE

Y/N: that does sound extremely unfortunate :c im sorry about that james

REMUS: he’ll survive

JAMES: WE CAN SURVIVE TOGETHER!

SIRIUS: CAPS LOCK BROS!!!

Y/N: cap lock bros!

JAMES: REMUS ARE YOU GONNA BE A CAPS LOCK BRO??

REMUS: unfortunately

AUTHOR'S NOTE

hello there!! thank you to @rose-of-the-grave for requesting a poly marauders texting au! i made it into a band bc yes, yes i did. please enjoy lovely!

AS ALWAYS - please like, comment, and reblog!

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 6 part 1

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

ooh the "magick" mitzvah? I've been puzzling about the connection between william and billy, that's an interesting detail. I'll elaborate in a minute

I've seen a lot of irony about joe locke clearly not being 13 here, but the thing is, sometimes boys do suddenly hit puberty and have an insane growth spurt! and then you get the hilarious visuals of some guy sitting in a tiny desk in a classroom full of children.

my point being, they should have had joe dancing with a bunch of actual 13 year olds, it would have been so fucking funny

I love mama and papa kaplan, and it really gets to me that they lost their boy and don't even know it. I was worried about billy's episode because I thought it would be just a bunch of marvel tie-ins with no heart. glad to report I was wrong

lilia who hates witch stereotypes performing those very stereotypes in order to not fucking starve

william's reflection is billy reversed

lilia foresees william's death and billy's takeover, and she is SO sorry for him. patti as usual conveys so much, you can tell her heart is breaking but she's being kind and lying in order to not scare this poor kid. and this is exactly why being a Seer has always been a burden to lilia, how do you form any relationships, how do you love someone when you've already seen the day you're going to lose them?

“The Tower Reversed.” disaster, destruction, sudden upheaval. but reversed, it means miraculous transformation.

and there is something about lilia choosing this moment as the most representative for billy, a moment that symbolize both billy and william. this is future!lilia embracing her own strength and reclaiming the coven and the community she denied herself her whole life. and not only she includes billy in it, but also william as a fundamental part of billy, a kid that she protected and cherished despite meeting him only briefly.

not only lilia goes above and beyond for william, hiding the truth from him, inviting him to enjoy the party she knows will be his last. she hides the sigil on him so she can protect billy too, because she knows that another little boy is about to wake up in a strange reality and be so lost. she tells william he's a good egg, but she is the goodest egg.

I love the little choices here. wanda's voice on the radio, pretending she's in an idyllic sitcom marriage. and a real life marriage where wanda's 1950s tropes are reversed, rebecca is the one who drives and grabs her husband's hand to reassure him.

another great detail: the dissolving Hex reflected in the car window.

the parallels are taking my breath away. two moms, agatha and rebecca, fiercely loving and protective. both would blame themselves for their sons dying.

but sometimes, boys die. and to quote jac shaeffer, that is tragedy enough to fill the universe.

you can hear william's heart slow down and stop. then, when billy takes over, it starts beating like crazy.

and here's alice, who's also never met william (or billy) before, but she will unquestionably do her utmost to help.

I miss you so much, alice

he's so scared. the way he shakes his head and doesn't know where to look.

imagine being born yesterday, and suddenly you are in a different body and your head is cracked and you're surrounded by strangers. and your brother is nowhere.

that is the worst omelet I've ever seen in my life by the way

(also I know billy is used to instant growth, but imagine switching from child to teenager just like that, it's like going through puberty in two seconds. kafkaesque nightmare fuel)

and it's just so realistic and so moving that the kaplans are presenting a united front even though they are crumbling underneath. and they won't say any of it out loud because they are good fucking parents and it's their job to protect and worry without their kid ever feeling guilty about it. (billy does end up reading their minds because they're not equipped to parent a superhero yet. not that they wouldn't RAISE TO THE FUCKING CHALLENGE. I love you rebecca and jeff kaplan)

william liked classic movies, board games and magic tricks. there were budding hints at a goth vibe too, with dario argento quotes and creepy victorian posters. it doesn't seem at all incompatible with the person billy will eventually grow up to be, I know he had to settle into william's life, but he didn't revolutionize any of it, he kind of followed in william tracks. I think that yes, william died just as wanda dissolved the hex and it was a wrong place and wrong time kind of situation, but he also had to be a compatible donor - as similar as billy as possible, I don't know if genetically or soul-wise or what. they even look a bit similar, same ears, same nose, same eyes, same chin, same triangular face.

these guys really like doing mirror shots, don't they

by the way I will keep calling him Boyf because it's so damn funny, but I do know his name is eddie and I'm really really happy for the representation. there won't be any particularly deep meta about these two because gay boys are so, so far from my realm of interest or expertise, I'm sorry if you were looking forward to it. if you want to add context or ideas about them please do!

another possibility is that billy's soul, while not having any of wiliam's memories, was still shaped and conditioned by his dna and brain chemistry and past experiences, so in a sense william is still in there. you put software in a different hardware, it's gonna affect its performance.

I'll say this about boyf, he's very sweet. billy gives him this crazy story and he doesn't flinch, he just tries to understand and be supportive.

*cough cough* nerd

but look, he's pulling a detective agnes! he really is an agatha mini me.

ah yes, the future coven looking after billy even before meeting him. lilia giving him the sigil, alice being first responder on the site of the accident, jen saving his dating life by teaching him good skincare (he's a teenager! he's got pimples!)

you guys, I hope you don't mind me dedicating some time to billy alone, but I do like this episode a lot.

and tomorrow: it's the return of butch agatha!

go to episode 6 part 2

[rightwheretheyleftme]

How the ‘Avatar Legends’ retcon fails Kya

Let me show you 2 moments from TLOK:

season 2, episode 9

season 2, episode 13

Both of those moments deliver the same joke: Kya doesn’t know how to meditate and when she attempts it, she ends up clumsily messing it up. In the first instance, it’s even a visual joke: Check how Jinora and Meelo, 2 characters who know how to meditate, have one stick of incense placed in front of them while Kya is awkwardly holding 2 sticks.

These jokes take on a deeper meaning when you read how the showrunners first conceived the character of Kya:

The Legend of Korra show bible

They envisioned Kya as someone who didn’t know her father very well- therefore, she doesn’t really know his culture or how to practice it.

Then in 2022, we got this retcon:

[…] she did internalize some of his [Aang’s] lessons about philosophy, meditation, and balance, holding them close to her heart for her whole life. Now, as the Air Nation's growth strains its leadership's time and energy, Kya has stepped up to help teach those same lessons her father taught her, both at Air Temple Island and out of her Dragon Flats-based clinic.

If you have encountered any K*taang account in the wild, you know that this semi-canon paragraph has been wildly celebrated. Now, out of nowhere, Kya knows meditation so well that she can teach classes about it! Hooray!

Bryke, stop bullshitting us. You established twice over that Kya doesn’t know how to meditate, you can’t erase what you portrayed in your show and try to convince us that she was a meditation expert all along. It’s clear that the showrunners don’t care about the Kya as a character, they see her as a tool to clear the mistake that they made when they wrote TLOK!Aang as a neglectful father.

Anyways, here is the full information that we get about Kya in Avatar Legends and I’d like to remark my favorite quotes:

“When disaster strikes, she can quickly switch between healing the injured and taking on attackers without missing a beat.”

“She does have some lingering pain, though, from her father favoring Tenzin, the Airbender, over his other children.”

“When she's in the city, the waterbending master Kya runs a free clinic out of a converted tenement in the middle of Dragon Flats. The clinic provides physical and mental healthcare, preventative to emergency, to a neighborhood that most needs it and can least afford it.” (emphasis mine)

“Katara broke boundaries as the first woman known to modern history to receive formal training as a master of both waterbending combat and waterbending medicine. Her daughter Kya was part of the first generation of young Waterbenders to learn both disciplines side by side.”

“Kya grew up frustrated that the world saw her as just a Waterbender, and not another child of Air Nomad heritage. Yes, she is an expert Waterbender, and she gladly accepted the traditions and culture of her mother... but she has always felt an affinity with Air Nomad culture. Her father taught Tenzin about Air Nomad culture far more than he taught either her or her brother Bumi […]” (empashis mine)

I love Kya so much. I wish the writers did as well.

[wonysugar]

hiii!! could i request fwb switch!ryujin x reader? it's completely fine if you're not comfy to dw!!

hickeys | shin ryujin

synopsis : it was a secret nobody could know, and you would’ve liked to keep it that way, however, ryujin leaving marks everywhere on your body truly did not make that easy.

pairing : gp!ryujin x fem!reader

genre : friends with benefits, smut!

tags : like one page of texting, g!p wbk, quickie, forbidden ig??, she’s your older brother’s best friend we all know she is not supposed to be fucking you, bathroom sex, nipple play, making out ofc, fingering, clit play, ryujin is strong so manhandling kind of, daddy kink, lots of dirty talk, jock ryujin, mirror sex(?), almost caught, that funky stuff, switchy activities

warning : none!

word count : 2.5k

your older brother occasionally having ryujin over wasn’t at all a bad thing, quite the opposite, actually, considering you both were incredibly close to her growing up.

she was incredibly chill, always dressed well, was super close with your brother, was fairly muscular, attracted everyone just by being in close proximity to them and was also like, 5 years older than you. so naturally, you took a huge liking to her. you admired her a lot when you were younger, she seemed so perfect. you didn’t quite know if you wanted her or if you wanted to be her.

things took a turn, though, and that quickly clarified things for you.

13 year old y/n definitely wouldn’t believe that 20 year old y/n was having sex on the lay-low with ryujin basically every week if you told her. who would’ve thought!

it always happened randomly, too. one would get inexplicably horny, the other would have to help them out, and it was a repeated cycle every time she came over. an unwritten agreement, if you will. sometimes, you’d even sneak into her house late at night because she’d randomly call you on the phone, telling you all about how she was jacking off thinking about you. in summary, you guys would fuck frequently.

very frequently.

today wasn’t any different!

the three of you were sitting on the sofa, watching a god-awful horror movie that made you wanna poke your eyes out each time a character did something insanely stupid, which was quite often, by the way. you clearly weren’t interested in the film whatsoever, so it’s not like ryujin standing up to go to the bathroom went unnoticed. she threw you a sly glance before casually walking to the restroom.

you already knew what she was doing, she’s done it many times before, and she’ll definitely keep doing it. you decided to wait it out though, immediately giving her what she wants takes away all the fun.

upon reading the message, you rolled your eyes, wearing a smirk, then quickly peeked over your shoulder, trying to see if your brother was awake. 

oh he was knocked out.

you internally celebrated as you saw him laying there with his eyes closed, peacefully resting as he quietly snored. you waited it out for a couple of minutes, making ryujin lose her patience has always been amusing to you, so, it was a natural reaction. getting up slowly, trying your hardest not to make any sort of noise, you then make your way to the washroom. 

upon opening the door and entering, you were immediately greeted by a pair of hungry lips being pressed onto yours, which happened for quite a bit. you could tell how worked up she was getting over a simple kiss. she smirked against you, and you quickly felt one of her hands cupping your ass while hearing the other seemingly locking the bathroom door, just in case your brother did wake up. 

once she was assured that the door was locked, she quickly gravitated her mouth lower on your body, from your lips to your jaw, down to your neck and, later on, your chest. her own body rubbing itself on yours, you felt how desperate she was for you, how badly she wanted you.

you even felt it from the not-so-subtly boner gently poking at your upper thigh.

“fuck baby i’ve missed you so much–” she told you in between kisses, embracing your body as if she hadn’t fucked the ever living shit out of you like- not even 4 days ago. you pulled away, scoffing,

“mmh- you just cannot live without getting your dick sucked, can you?”

instead of replying, she simply took your hand and lightly placed it on her crotch, breathing out of relief from the slight contact before pulling you back in, her lips getting hungrier by the second for you. you could finally properly feel how hard she was, and it was… ego flattering, really. i mean, who would’ve thought that shin ryujin, a jock who played basically every girl who breathed in her direction, would be this needy? for you, might i add.

i mean, really, she had girls sobbing over her, begging her to take them back. she ruined their lives, basically. she had the tendency to love-bomb the fuck out of her talking stages, sometimes even lasting months on end. then once they got attached, she’d ghost them out of nowhere and move onto the next.

ryujin wasn’t a marriage kind of girl, hell, she wasn’t a dating kind of girl either.

it was incredibly fortunate that you weren’t, either.

you gently rubbed your hand on her boner through the fabric of her jeans, hearing the noises coming out of her was like fuel to you, by this point, you wanted to hear more.

and despite yourself, you were getting impatient.

you unzipped the bracket of her jeans and pulled them down in a swift motion, her clothed cock bouncing up, hitting your lower stomach. you kept palming it as you kissed her, taking in every sound she let out whilst you rubbed the tip of her dick through the fabric of her underwear. feeling her twitch against your hand, you finally got down on your knees, your eye level exactly where it needed to be.

“so desperate for me, hm? i barely even did anything, and you’re already squirming.” you teased, looking up at her wearing the same smirk she had when she was headed for the bathroom in the first place.

“come on y/n, don’t play around like this—”

“you’re gonna have to talk to me in a nicer tone if you want something to be done about your situation, ryujin. just to remind you, you brought me here, at least ask nicely.” you told her sternly, earning a small, pathetic whine from her.

“pleasee..” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“please what?”

she whined more, before muttering, “pleaseee suck me off..”

you grinned, the sounds of her begs amusing you greatly as you watched her shudder due to the hot breath she felt on her dick. not wanting to tease her any longer, you simply took all of it in your mouth in one go. ryujin had to cover her mouth immediately after, afraid of being too loud. however, you were making it impossible to stay quiet. 

she whimpered against her own hand, trying her hardest not to be moaning out your name like she usually would. she watched you bob your head up and down her girthy shaft as you glanced up at her occasionally with the most lustful eyes she’d ever seen. the fact that she had to be quiet, the feeling of having her cock deep inside of your warm and wet mouth, the way you pushed your hair back when it got in the way; all of it made her twitch uncontrollably.

while you blew her, she couldn’t help but ponder about what she wanted to do to you, you made it so complicated for her. she would usually just fuck girls normally then move on, but with you? she wanted to use you in the most dehumanizing ways possible, then once she was done, she’d wanna get used by you and be treated like a little bitch in heat. 

you just made her feel and think things she didn’t even know she could. no seriously, who would’ve thought that ms. shin ryujin would enjoy being dominated every once in a while? 

you did, apparently. hence why you’re in the situation you’re in right now.

and she truly didn’t want to admit it, but you were the best fuck she’s ever had. 

she’d been breathing heavier up until now, you knew she wanted to cum, she was getting closer to the edge and it showed.

you pulled your mouth away from her dick, panting heavily from the lack of air in your lungs as you tried to catch your breath. you still gave her throbbing cock attention by rubbing the tip with your thumb, you rightfully assumed that she probably would’ve died without it, “how badly do you want to fuck me right now?” you asked before spitting in your hand and using it to keep stroking her rock hard boner.

she looked down at you, running her hand through her soft short hair as she leaned against the bathroom counter, attempting to keep her loud whines contained, “sosososo bad–” was all she managed to get out before she had to cover her mouth.

cute, you thought.

watching her lose herself under your touch, whether it be minimal or not, you couldn’t help but giggle. she always went crazy for you, and you would be stupid not to notice her efforts at pleasing you.

she’d been so good for you up until now, and you felt like she could have her oh-so-deserved reward of finally being able to cum. 

you look up at her and quickly shove her dick back into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down in swift movements as she tried her hardest not to scream out your name, she could feel your tongue tracing down the length of her shaft.

“f-fuck y/n baby i’m cumming fuckfuck—“

it didn’t take long before you felt her cock throbbing, feeling it shoot out a huge load of its thick and warm juices fill up your throat as she grunted. you immediately swallowed every last drop.

what can you say? muscle memory always does its job.

still coming down from her high, she quickly pulled you back up to face her and hungrily put her lips in contact with yours, licking at them, asking for entrance. her hands roaming everywhere around your body and 

soon enough, the tables turned and it was now her turn to let her tongue work wonders on yours as you felt like every nerve of your body reacted to the sensation. before you knew it, she was already pinning you to the counter, your back to her as her hands reached around your waist eagerly to pull down your piece of clothing. she kissed on the back of your neck and left her marks, and you knew she was smirking about it, too,

‘cause you felt it against your skin.

“you’ve had your fun, you’re gonna let daddy use that pretty cunt of yours now, right? that’s what i originally called you in here for, after all.” she whispered into your ear as she slowly slid her hand into your panties, middle finger gently caressing your swollen clit. she could tell you were ready for her, and it turned her on even more.

her dick, once again, gave it away.

and it hasn’t even been that long since she came.

sliding your panties halfway down to your knees, she didn’t waste any more time and carefully settled the tip of her cock under your dripping pussy, rubbing it against your wet folds. you slightly whined at the feeling whilst she breathed hot air against your skin. you needed to feel her inside you, your walls were literally clenching around nothing, and you couldn’t wait any longer.

“just put it in ryujin—“ you quietly pleaded,

“what was that? sorry, i don’t think i heard you properly.” she mocked, stopping her grinding movements altogether, 

which earned a small whine from you, “fuck daddy pleasee just—“ you exhaled upon feeling her hand grope your breast, then quickly added, “i need you inside me, please..”

she chuckled, satisfied with your answer, “good girl.”

immediately, she pushed you back onto the counter and slid her dick inside of you as she breathlessly groaned. you, on the other hand, were already arching your back and holding back moans. she started by slowly thrusting into you, before getting impatient and simply just pounding into you with full force. 

her cock was hitting places you genuinely didn’t even know she could hit, all you did know was that it felt heavenly. every hit of the tip pressed against the end of your cervix made you feel like you were gonna pass out. 

basically, the dick was good, it was so good that you had to be physically silenced to prevent your brother from potentially waking up and hearing the both of you go at it in the bathroom.

ryujin was the one that had to cover your mouth. not only did she cover your mouth, but she also pulled on your hair when you were being too loud (which kinda made you even more loud, but that’s beside the point). in a normal situation, she’d thrive on hearing you scream out her name and be this noisy for her, but with your brother in the other room? she couldn’t exactly afford to hear that, unfortunately.

pulling your hair back and making you face yourself in the mirror, she asked, “look at you, so slutty for my dick, so pretty, too.. don’t you think?”

and she was not wrong, your hair was a mess from her constantly grabbing it, your makeup was running all over your cheeks from the tears you’ve been shedding at the pleasure, your hooded eyes all red and swollen, your marked up neck, it was all so… filthy? you looked so filthy.

god you looked so hot like this.

you could only nod in agreement as you kept moaning into her palm, feeling her dick slide in and out of your wet pussy repeatedly, you were so close to climax that you could pass out—

the sounds of knocking on the door made the both of you flinch.

“y/n, i gotta use the restroom, are you almost done? i just woke up and i think ryujin left..? she isn’t here anymore and she hasn’t been answering my texts so i don't even think she’s home yet.” is what was heard from the other side of the door. 

what now??

you obviously wanted to respond to your brother but it’s not like ryujin even gave you the chance to, she just kept mercilessly pounding into you as he rambled and rambled. that is, until she pulled her hand away from your mouth.

was she actually expecting you to respond like this?? you looked at her through the mirror and saw her smirking at you with lust-filled eyes.

well shit!

you’d scold her later, now you just desperately had to think of a way to not sound like you’re getting fucked senseless. closing your eyes and mustering up all of the willpower to answer without your voice shaking uncontrollably, “y-yeah i’m almost done just give me a second i’m coming—“ was what you said.

and then your orgasm hit you like a truck when ryujin grabbed your waist and came into you.

quickly covering your mouth to muffle any sort of sound that escaped it, your eyes rolling back as you heard your brother mutter a quick “alrightt” before seemingly walking away from the door, not suspecting a thing.

thank god.

she slid out of you, the rhythm of her breath matching yours as you both tried to catch it.

god how lovely, you were leaking, you had hickeys every-fucking-where and now you had to think of a way to make ryujin flee the house without making it seem like she was in the bathroom with you.

this was gonna be tough to go about, especially with a fucked-out mind such as yours at that moment.

[yellowharrington]

sugar sweet -- carmy berzatto x reader

pairing + fandom: carmen "carmy" berzatto x reader, the bear fx

word count: ~2.5k

warnings: brief mention of body image issues (not towards reader) and suicide (mikey's death), eating dessert and a lot of food talk, gn!reader (but mention of wearing heels), use of y/n briefly in texts. reader is mentioned as an accountant or adjacent professional person and smoking is mentioned (reader and carmy). please let me know if i missed anything :)

a/n: hey team !! i hope y'all enjoy this fluffy little blorbo about carmy's birthday bc i needed to write about being soft to him. this is an old wip i finally finished so pls rb and leave feedback and comments ily

summary: it's carmy's birthday and you want to make it special for him again.

-`♡´-

It’s not that Carmy doesn’t like his birthday.

No, it’s not that. 

It’s just that he’s never had a good one.

When he was 9, his mom tried to make him a birthday cake. French vanilla, with buttercream icing, multicoloured sprinkles on top. But she had somehow managed to get so frustrated that she had thrown the whisk across the kitchen, the burnt cake thrown in the sink, and taken to the backyard for her millionth cigarette of the day. She was breaking down, as usual, and Carmy was the one that had to go out and rub her back and tell her it was fine. That he was fine, that he didn’t matter, and no, she didn’t ruin his birthday. 

When he was 13, he ended up spending the afternoon consoling Natalie in her bedroom, after his mom had again, made a backhanded comment about her body. That yeah, she’d gained weight in her midsection, and yeah, the stress was showing on her hips. She was sobbing into her pillows, clutching her pink sheets and wailing, leaving Carmy with nothing to do but kiss her on the cheek and leave her alone. He assured her, again, that he was fine, that he didn’t matter, and no, she didn’t ruin his birthday. 

And when he’s 24 and scrubbing the floors of The Beef at midnight, sweat dripping down his forehead and into the collar of his shirt. Michael had just died, so yeah, it was a little raw. The fluorescent lights were beating down on his back as he dumped hot soapy water on the floor and scrubbed everything away. Scrubbed away his memories, every Christmas with his brother, every screaming match. He let it all go down the drain. He’s assured himself that he’s fine, he didn’t matter, and no, Michael’s fucking suicide would not ruin his birthday.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

He meets you later that year. Sitting in the park, doing a crossword at 7:00am, your BEC and hot coffee cooling off on the bench beside you. You’re obviously a professional of some kind: tight black slacks and a matching blazer, white dress shirt stretched over your torso, hair pristinely styled. Black heels, he notices, that you’ll switch out in the middle of the day because they squeeze your toes. 

When he sits beside you, you don’t pay him any mind. He’s disheveled, sandy curls pushed back on his head, a grey crewneck sweater over a white t-shirt, collar peaking through at the neck. He sets his identical breakfast next to yours, taking out a cigarette and slipping it between his lips. You look over when he flicks his lighter, a soft exhale leaving his nose. “Oh, sorry,” he takes the cigarette from his lips and wafts the smoke away. “I forgot not everyone in this city smokes.”

You smiled tightly, nodding, letting yourself relax onto the back of the bench. “I don’t mind.” He nodded back to you, letting his hand rest on his knee as he took another drag. “Anything worth reading in there today?” He gestures to the newspaper balanced on your knee. You look at him again, shrugging your shoulders, only to tap your pen against the side of your leg. “No, there never is. I just do the crosswords. You wouldn’t happen to know a 4 letter word for ‘kitchen second in command’, would you?”

He laughs a little, taking another slow drag. “Sous?” You look down at the newspaper, penning in the small boxes, sitting back to smile at him. “Thank you,” you raise your coffee cup to him. “‘m a chef, over at The Beef in River North,” he has a mouthful of his sandwich now, as he points in the general direction of the restaurant. “Oh, yeah, I think you guys catered one of our events one time. It’s like, sandwiches and stuff, right?” He nods, taking a sip of coffee. You follow after him, letting the hot coffee touch your lips. 

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I, uh, just took it over. It’s kind of a shit show right now but we’re tryna fix it.” You unwrap the sandwich and sink your teeth into the soft bagel, covering your mouth before beginning to speak. “What happened to the guy who used to own it? Did you just buy it off of him, or what?”

“He died,” he says, deadpan, letting the cigarette come between his lips again. “He was my brother and uh, yeah - he died.” You nod at your own embarrassment, at the thought of asking a random stranger about his dead brother by accident. “Oh, I didn’t-uh, God - sorry,” you stammer, letting yourself turn towards him. “It’s fine,” he waves the smoke away again. “It’s not a big deal.” You almost laugh at his demeanour, so nonchalant. You pull a cardholder out of your blazer pocket, the small clasp opening. Cream cardstock, black writing - a business card, handing it over to him, but not before scribbling your personal number on the back. “If you need anything, accounting related or otherwise, call me.” He takes it and looks for a second, raising his eyebrow at the pristine card. “I can’t afford you,” he laughs. “No charge. Thanks for the help on the crossword…” you wait expectantly for a name. “Oh, Carmen. Carmy,” he finishes. “Nice to meet you.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

It had been a few months since your first meeting. Now, you chose to spend almost every Sunday with him - his one day off. He’d usually make you breakfast, sometimes an omelette with gouda cheese and chives, or fluffy pancakes with a berry compote and homemade whipped cream. For a man that cooked all day, every day, he certainly didn’t mind making any meals for you, especially when you woke up next to him in his old t-shirt and nothing underneath. 

You’d known Carmy for long enough now to have pieced together the whole story - a few nights here and there coming around The Beef after closing had granted you the pleasure of meeting Richie, who Carmy affectionately called Cousin. “He’s a little fucked up,” Richie had told you behind the slightly ajar door of the office, as you sat and waited for Carm to finish up. “With Mikey and everything. He won’t let ‘ya know, but he is. I’m happy he’s got somebody,” he looks back at the kitchen, the usual pots and pans clanging behind him. “You didn’t hear it from me, but it’s his birthday on Sunday,” Richie gets closer to you, his hand coming closer. “Back up Richie,” “Sorry. Force of habit. Do not tell him I told you. Take it to your grave. He likes red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese icing like a little bitch boy, they’re his favourite, alright?” You nod, looking to see if he was anywhere near. “Heard.”

You catch Marcus on the way out while Carmy fucks with something else in the kitchen. “Hey, Marcus,” you grab his arm, right before he’s about to put a headphone in and start on his way home. “Hey, what’s good?” “I need a red velvet cake recipe. And a cream cheese icing recipe. And a walk through of how to bake a batch of cupcakes. Please.” He nodded slightly, looking down at his phone. “I’ll text you what I’ve got. Is it a special occasion?” You look over at Carmy, who was wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Yeah, uh, it is.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Marcus had let you borrow a few cupcake pans and a package of liners, as well as his KitchenAid stand mixer for the batter. You’d gathered all of the ingredients from the recipe he’d given you, set everything up in your tiny apartment kitchen on the Saturday before Carmy’s birthday, furiously mixing wets and drys in different bowls, sifting flour and separating egg whites from yolks. The cigarette was taught between your lips, tank top strap falling off your shoulder as you slowly began to mix the batter together. 

[Carmen] 11:18pm

Hey

How are you baby?

Just finishing up here

You flicked the cigarette ash onto the fire escape as you nodded your head in rhythm with the song on the speaker, letting the batter mix in the background as you started to sift the powdered sugar into the clean bowl. You weren’t even looking at the time until you heard the familiar chime of your phone, sticky floury hands grabbing your cell phone to see the text from Carmy. 

“Shit, fuck,” you turned the mixer off, putting the remnants of your cigarette out in the sink. 

[(Y/N) personal] 11:26pm

Hey, just busy right now

Will text in a bit

Love you

When Carmy reads the text he’s a little… surprised to say the least. For you to have plans on a Saturday night was not unheard of by any means, but it wasn’t what he was expecting. Anxiety creeped up a little, because what could you be doing at 11:30pm?

[Carmen] 11:27pm

Love you too

You ok?

[(Y/N) personal] 11:27pm

Of course

Come over when you’re done

A smile tugs on the corner of his lips as he continues to wipe down the stainless steel counter in front of him, nearly spotless already. Most of the other crew has gone home, save for Marcus in his station proofing his donuts for tomorrow and Richie texting someone at the expo line. He slips his phone in the pocket under his apron, undoing the knot on the back and dropping it in the hamper by the back door. “You guys can lock up, yeah?” Carmy calls, seeing Marcus nod at him and bid him goodnight with a small wave. “Heard,” Richie calls. “‘Night, cousin.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Carmy had called a few times, your phone ringing and ringing, but the chaotic kitchen had forced you to miss the calls. It was past midnight now, and you’d spent your whole day in the kitchen, the night getting away from you way quicker than you had intended. You had a small box in your bedside table, a thin gold chain you hadn’t wrapped for him yet, and your apartment was a fucking mess. Pans and bowls strewn across every surface, flour on the floors and walls, and somehow, and you had cream cheese icing under your fingernails. It was a bit of a mess.

When the icing was done, you managed to squeeze some on the tops of the cupcakes just in time to hear the lock on your door click. You stood, silently, as you heard Carmy quietly kick off his boots. He thought you might be sleeping.

Ha, far from it.

“Babe?”

When he rounded the corner, it was a sight to see for sure. Your hands twisted around a makeshift pastry bag, which was really a ZipLoc with a hole cut in the bottom. Apron tied in a bow around your waist, only accentuating the curves of your body. Carmy drinks you in.

“What are you doing?”

You looked at him like a deer in the headlights.

“Baking.”

“Yeah. I see that.”

He stepped forward tentatively, an amused smile on his face. His hand reached to the small of your back, a kiss adorning your cheek. 

“Why are you baking?” He takes a finger to the end of the bag, sticking it in his mouth and marvelling at the taste. “Why are you killing it at baking?”

You smiled. “Don’t be mad.”

His eyebrow cocked, noticing the desserts in front of him, really, for the first time since he stepped in the door.

“Fucking Richie,” his hand found his forehead. “Fucker.”

“Happy Birthday, Carm.” You let the bag of icing flop on the stovetop, while your arms wrapped around his neck. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, slotting them together to quiet the thoughts in his mind. You started to pepper kisses all over his face and neck, giggling between them, before he couldn’t help but burst into laughter himself. 

“He told me they were your favourite, and I asked Marcus for a recipe and I haven’t tried one yet, even!” the words tumbled out of your mouth as he pulled you impossibly closer, swaying a little with you in his arms. 

“Sorry. Richie told me not to make a dig deal, I just thought,” you shrugged, letting your hands slide down his biceps and tracing the faded tattoos there with your pointer finger. “I thought we could make it special again. If you want.”

The wild look in your eyes was enough to have him push forward again, lips crashing into lips, the amalgamation of all the tastes from his day on your tongue.

“Thank you.” He peers over your shoulder at the cupcakes, still in the tin, suddenly very interested in tasting the fruits of your labour.

“Should we try these?” His hand drops effortlessly to your waist, letting his body push past yours. He picks up a cupcake, handing one to you and ‘cheers’ing them playfully. He unwrapped the foil on the outside, sinking his teeth into the soft, sweet dessert. 

“Mmmh,” he moans, letting his eyes roll back into his head slightly. “Wow,” the red colour coats his teeth. “Yeah.”

You nod along with him, your own teeth sinking in. “Oh yeah, I kinda killed it with these.” 

“Hm, wait,” you put the cupcake down, pushing past him. You take the opportunity to put your hand on his broad back, feeling the muscles underneath.

When you return, he’s licking the rest of the icing off of his fingers. The way his lips wrap around his fingers makes your breath hitch.

“Before you say anything, it’s just small, if you hate it you can return it, blah blah blah…” you trail off, but you can’t hide the excitement across your features. 

He pulls open the clamshell box, the gold chain reflecting against the warm lights of the kitchen and dancing along the walls. His lips part slightly, forming an “o” shape, with surprise. 

“You’re…” he seems genuinely speechless. Carmy usually isn’t a man of many words, anyway, but this was noticeably different.

“Do you like it?” Your bottom lip is folded under your teeth in anticipation, eyes flickering up to meet his. 

“You’re perfect,” is all he can say, and you swear you can see his eyes get a little glassy.

“Aw, well, don’t get soft on me now,” you let your arms wrap around him once again, pulling him into a hug this time. Your head fits perfectly into his chest, smelling the distinct scent of his signature cologne, long now covered by the smells of the restaurant. Him.

His nose fits perfectly into the crook of your neck as he leans down, deepening the hug to pull you in impossibly close. His lips latch onto the soft spot beneath your ear, enraptured by your presence. 

For the first time in his life, Carmy is actually going to have a good birthday. 

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

[velvetvisionsaurora]

Pairing: Hongjoong x reader, Seonghwa x reader, Yunho x reader, Mingi x reader, Wooyoung x reader.

Summary: Five eight-year-old boys aboard the slave ship Crimson Serpent form an unbreakable bond with five-year-old y/n. before she's sold at auction. Despite their failed rescue attempt, they swear a blood oath on her teddy bear to find her.Fifteen years later, now feared pirates leading the ATEEZ

Warnings: Slavery/Human Trafficking, Separation/Loss, Violence, Eventual Smut. SA(not by any main characters) y/n gets switched to a real name but it has a purpose. More warnings to be updated.

Authors note : my updates may be a little sporadic for a bit, but I will update as often as I can! Also we’ve made it to the beginning of the smut finally. It’s only mild in this chapter though 🔥

<<Previous Next>>

Masterlist

Chapter 13

Scars

The medical bay was quiet in the early hours of morning. Most of the ship still slept, the gentle rocking of the ATEEZ creating a soothing rhythm that encouraged rest. Y/n sat in her now-familiar chair beside Mingi's bed, absently flipping through a book of sea charts she'd borrowed from Hongjoong's collection. She wasn't really reading it—just needed something to keep her hands busy during her self-appointed watch.

Mingi slept peacefully, his breathing steady and deep, a good sign according to Yeosang's latest assessment. The worst danger had passed, though recovery would still take time. In sleep, his normally guarded expression softened, making him look younger—closer to the quiet boy she remembered from The Crimson Serpent than the formidable gunner he'd become.

The door opened with a whisper of well-oiled hinges as Yeosang entered, carrying a small tray of medical supplies. He nodded to y/n, not surprised to find her there despite the early hour.

"You're up early," he said softly, setting down his tray. "Did you sleep at all?"

"A few hours," she admitted. "Woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. Figured I might as well be useful here."

Yeosang's mouth quirked in a half-smile. "Your presence is good for him, but you need proper rest too. Doctor's orders."

"I'm fine," she insisted automatically, the response so ingrained after years of pushing through exhaustion that it emerged without thought.

"That's what you always say," Yeosang replied, no real admonishment in his tone despite the words. "Even when you're not."

He moved to check Mingi's bandages, his movements practiced and efficient. Satisfied with what he saw, he made a few notes in his medical journal before turning his attention back to y/n.

"While I have you here," he said casually, though something in his voice suggested the conversation was anything but casual, "I've been meaning to ask... how's your back?"

The question caught her off guard. y/n stiffened, fingers tightening around the book in her lap. "It's fine," she said, the words clipped. "Healed a long time ago."

"Healed doesn't mean it doesn't still cause problems," Yeosang countered, keeping his voice low to avoid disturbing Mingi. "The last time I treated those wounds was what... eight years ago? Right before Blackwell sold me."

Y/n’s gaze dropped to her hands, now still on the book in her lap. "Why bring this up now?"

"Because I'm your doctor again," Yeosang said simply. He met her eyes, his professional demeanor softening with genuine concern. "And because I know how deep those lashes went. Scars like that don't just disappear—they can cause pain, limit movement. There are treatments now I didn't have access to in Blackwell's household."

Y/n was silent for a long moment. The shared memory hung between them—Yeosang, barely a teenager himself, cleaning wounds on a child's back by candlelight, both of them terrified of discovery.

"I've managed," she said finally.

"You've survived," Yeosang corrected gently. "There's a difference between surviving and healing."

He carefully set aside his medical journal and pulled a chair closer to her, maintaining enough distance to avoid making her feel crowded but close enough for private conversation.

"Have you told the others?" he asked.

She shook her head. "There hasn't been a reason to. And I don't want them to..." she trailed off, searching for the right words.

"See you differently?" Yeosang supplied.

"To pity me." Her voice hardened. "I survived it. I don't need their pity."

"They wouldn't pity you," Yeosang argued quietly. "They'd be angry on your behalf."

"That's worse." Y/n looked up, meeting his eyes directly. "The last thing I want is for them to see me as someone who needs to be avenged or protected. Not after they've spent fifteen years searching for me already."

Yeosang studied her for a moment. "You're protecting them from your pain," he observed. "Just like you used to do with me in Blackwell's household."

The observation was unsettlingly accurate. Y/n had always tried to minimize her suffering, even as a child—not seeking help until the pain became unbearable, hiding injuries until infection made them impossible to conceal.

"Let me examine your back properly," Yeosang said, his tone professional but gentle. "As your doctor, not just your friend. There are treatments now—oils to soften scar tissue, exercises to prevent it from restricting movement. You don't have to just 'manage' anymore."

Y/n hesitated, unconsciously straightening her posture as if to prove she had no physical limitations.

"No one else needs to know," Yeosang added, reading her hesitation correctly. "This would be between us, just like before. Doctor and patient."

The reminder of their old dynamic—the careful trust they'd built during those years in Blackwell's household—finally broke through her resistance.

"Alright," she conceded. "But not here, not with Mingi—"

"Of course not," Yeosang agreed immediately. "We can use the private examination room. It's just through there." He nodded toward a door at the back of the medical bay.

Y/n glanced at Mingi, still sleeping peacefully, then back to Yeosang. After a moment's consideration, she stood. "Let's get this over with."

The private examination room was small but well-equipped, with a screen for changing and a treatment table positioned to catch the morning light from a small porthole. Yeosang moved around the space with practiced efficiency, gathering supplies and adjusting the lamp to provide better illumination.

"You'll need to remove the top part of your dress," he said, his clinical tone helping to normalize the situation. "There's a wrap on the screen you can use for modesty. I'll turn away until you're ready."

True to his word, he busied himself with organizing his supplies, his back turned as Y/n moved behind the screen. She changed quickly, wrapping the soft cloth around her chest before taking a deep breath to steady herself.

"Ready," she called softly.

Yeosang turned, his expression purely professional as she took a seat on the examination table, her back to him. For a moment, there was silence. Then she heard his sharp intake of breath.

"Y/n..." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Is it that bad?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light despite the tension she felt.

"Worse than when I last saw them," he admitted. "The later ones... after I was gone..."

"There was no one to help properly clean them," she said simply. "I did what I could."

She felt his fingers then, cool and gentle as they traced one of the longer scars. Despite herself, she flinched slightly.

"Sorry," Yeosang murmured. "Are they still painful?"

"Sometimes. When the weather changes, or if I strain too much during training."

His examination continued in silence for several minutes, his touch professional but careful, just as it had been all those years ago. Y/n found herself remembering those nights in Blackwell's household—the young medical apprentice risking punishment to tend her wounds, teaching her which herbs helped with pain, how to clean injuries to prevent fever.

"The tissue is tight here," Yeosang noted, his fingers pressing lightly near her shoulder blade. "And here. It's restricting your range of motion, especially on the right side."

"I've noticed," she admitted. "It makes certain movements difficult during combat training."

"I can help with that," Yeosang said, and she could hear the shift in his voice—from concerned friend to confident healer. "I've learned treatments for scar tissue that I didn't know back then. Special oils, stretching exercises."

He moved away briefly, and she heard the sound of bottles clinking. When he returned, the scent of herbs filled the air—something woodsy and clean.

"This might feel cold," he warned, before applying something to her back.

The oil was indeed cool, but his touch remained gentle as he worked it into her scarred skin. Y/n found herself gradually relaxing under his ministrations—the familiar routine bringing back not just memories of pain, but of care. Of someone trying to help when nearly everyone else in her world sought only to use or harm her.

"You still remember how I like the pressure," she observed quietly.

"Some things you don't forget," Yeosang replied. "Even after eight years."

They fell into companionable silence as he continued to work, the familiar rhythm of treatment creating its own form of comfort. Y/n found herself reflecting on how strange it was that this—having someone tend wounds inflicted during her captivity—could feel like coming home in a way that even reuniting with the others hadn't quite managed.

"Can I ask you something, Angel?" she said after some time had passed.

The childhood nickname made his hands pause momentarily before resuming their work. "Of course."

"Have you told them? About what it was really like there?"

Yeosang was quiet for a long moment. "Not everything," he finally admitted. "They know I was Blackwell's property, that I worked as a medical apprentice. But the details... no."

"Why not?"

His hands stilled again. "The same reason you haven't shown them these scars. Some burdens don't need to be shared to be carried."

The simple truth of his words resonated deeply. Y/n nodded, understanding flowing between them without need for further explanation.

"But Y/n," Yeosang continued, his voice gentle yet firm, "these scars are evidence of your strength, not your weakness. You survived something terrible. You didn't just endure it—you kept your humanity intact. That's not something to hide. It's something to acknowledge."

"Maybe someday," she conceded. "But not yet. Not until I'm ready."

"That's fair," Yeosang agreed, resuming his treatment. "It's your choice. Always."

As he worked the healing oil into her skin, Y/n found herself thinking about choices—how few she'd had during those fifteen years, and how significant even small ones felt now. The choice to reveal her identity. The choice to stay aboard the ATEEZ. The choice to show her scars to Yeosang, to accept his help.

"I'm going to wrap this with a special cloth that will help the oil penetrate overnight," Yeosang explained as he finished his application. "And I'll prepare a treatment plan—exercises to stretch the tissue, oils to apply regularly. It won't erase the scars, but it can ease the pain and improve your mobility."

"Thank you," Y/n said simply. The words seemed inadequate for what he was offering—not just medical treatment but a continuation of care that had begun when they were both children in a house of cruelty.

Yeosang's hands were gentle as he wrapped the bandage around her torso, his movements efficient yet considerate. "You know," he said conversationally, "the others would want to help if they knew."

"I know," she acknowledged. "But I'm not ready for their anger. For what they might do with it."

Yeosang secured the bandage with a small pin. "You're worried about Mingi."

It wasn't a question. Y/n sighed. "And Hongjoong, they seem the most protective. If they saw these..."

"They would be furious," Yeosang agreed. "They all would be. But that anger—it isn't pity, Y/n. It's love."

The simple statement hung in the air between them. Y/n turned slightly, meeting his eyes over her shoulder.

"That's what I'm afraid of," she admitted. "What they might do out of love. The risks they might take."

"That's their choice," Yeosang reminded her gently. "Just as keeping this private is yours. For now."

He stepped back, handing her shirt to her. "We're done for today. I'll have a treatment plan ready by this evening."

Y/n nodded, taking the garment with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Angel. Not just for this, but for understanding."

"Always," he promised, the single word containing years of shared history.

As she dressed behind the screen, y/n found herself thinking about the different forms healing could take. There was the physical treatment Yeosang offered—the oils and exercises that would ease her pain and improve her mobility. But there was another kind of healing happening aboard the ATEEZ, one more complex and perhaps more profound: the healing of connections broken fifteen years ago, the rebuilding of trust between people who had once meant everything to each other.

Maybe someday, as part of that healing, she would share these scars with the others. Let them see not just the marks Blackwell had left on her, but the strength it had taken to survive them. But for now, it was enough that Yeosang knew. That she wasn't carrying this burden entirely alone anymore.

When she emerged from behind the screen, Yeosang was waiting with a small bottle in hand.

"For your nightstand," he explained, offering it to her. "Apply it before sleep whenever the pain is bad."

Their fingers brushed as she took the bottle, and y/n felt a surge of gratitude for this friend who had somehow found his way back to her against impossible odds.

"We should check on Mingi," she suggested, tucking the oil into her pocket.

Yeosang nodded, his expression shifting back to professional concern. "Yes, it's almost time for his morning medications."

As they returned to the main area of the medical bay, y/n felt a subtle but significant change in herself—a loosening, as if some tightly held tension had begun to release. The scars on her back were still there, would always be there. But somehow, sharing them with someone who understood made them feel less like a shameful secret and more like what they truly were: proof that she had faced terrors and survived them.

The healing had begun.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

When y/n returned to Mingi's bedside, she found him awake, his dark eyes tracking her movement as she approached. Yeosang busied himself at the supply cabinet, giving them a semblance of privacy while remaining close enough to monitor his patient.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, settling into her chair beside him.

"Better," Mingi replied, his voice stronger than the day before. "Yeosang says healing faster than expected."

She smiled at his characteristic economy of words. "That's good news. Though I suspect you'll still try to get back to your gun decks before he approves it."

A slight upturn at the corner of his mouth acknowledged her assessment. "Maybe."

Yeosang approached with a small cup containing Mingi's morning medication. "I need to check supplies in the secondary storage room," he announced after Mingi had taken the medicine. "I'll be back in about half an hour. Try not to let him do anything foolish while I'm gone," he added to y/n with a meaningful look.

The deliberate withdrawal was transparent, but y/n appreciated it nonetheless. When the door closed behind Yeosang, a comfortable silence settled between them. Mingi's gaze remained on her, observant as always, though something different lingered in his expression – something smoldering beneath his usual watchful attention.

"Missed you," Mingi said simply, the admission unexpected from someone so typically reserved.

His directness caught her off guard. "I was only gone for an hour," she replied, a smile playing at her lips.

"Not what I meant." His eyes held hers with unmistakable intent. "Fifteen years of missing you. Every day."

The simple declaration sent warmth flooding through her. There was no artifice in Mingi, no strategic calculation – just raw honesty delivered with characteristic precision.

"I missed you too," she admitted. "Even when I didn't remember everything clearly, there was always this... emptiness. Like something vital was missing."

His large hand moved across the blanket toward hers, palm up – an invitation rather than a demand. The gesture was so like him – offering connection without requiring it, creating space for her choice rather than assuming it.

She placed her hand in his, warmth spreading from the simple contact. His fingers curled around hers, gentle despite their strength, calloused from years of work with weapons and tools yet somehow still familiar to her touch.

"Little shadow," he said softly, the childhood nickname transformed by the deeper timbre of his adult voice. "Still can't believe you're actually here."

"Sometimes I can't either," she admitted, meeting his intense gaze directly. "Finding all of you after so long... it seems impossible."

"Not impossible," Mingi countered, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles in a way that sent unexpected shivers up her arm. "Improbable. Different."

The distinction made her smile. "Very different. But then, we're all different now too."

He studied her face with the careful attention he gave to everything important. His eyes lingered on her lips for a moment before returning to meet her gaze, the intensity in them unmistakable.

"Core remains the same," he said, voice dropping lower. "Essential nature survives."

Without conscious decision, y/n found herself leaning closer, drawn by the quiet strength that had always been his hallmark. "And what is my essential nature, in your assessment?"

Mingi's free hand moved then, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face with deliberate precision. Unlike his usual careful distance, this touch lingered, fingers tracing the line of her jaw with exploratory intent.

"Resilient," he offered, his deep voice barely above a whisper. "Perceptive. Strong."

Each word was delivered with such conviction that y/n felt something shift within her – a barrier carefully maintained for fifteen years beginning to crumble beneath his unwavering gaze.

The raw honesty of his response broke whatever last thread of hesitation remained between them. Y/n closed the remaining distance, her lips meeting his with an urgency that surprised them both.

What began as tentative exploration quickly ignited into something far more demanding. Mingi's hand slid from her face to the nape of her neck, fingers threading through her hair as he drew her closer. The careful restraint he typically maintained dissolved entirely as his mouth moved against hers with unexpected hunger.

Y/n responded in kind, her own hand moving to his shoulder, then sliding up to cup his face. His skin was warm beneath her palm, the slight roughness of stubble a reminder of just how much time had passed since they were children aboard The Crimson Serpent.

When his tongue swept against her lips, she opened to him without hesitation, deepening the kiss with a soft sound of encouragement. Mingi's grip tightened in her hair, not painful but possessive in a way that sent heat spiraling through her core. Their breath mingled, quick and uneven, as the kiss became increasingly desperate – fifteen years of separation and longing crystallizing into this single moment of connection.

Y/n found herself leaning further over the bed, her body seeking closer contact despite the awkward position. Mingi's free arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her half onto the narrow treatment bed with surprising strength for someone still recovering from injury.

"The wound," she murmured against his lips, a moment of concern breaking through the haze of desire.

"Don't care," he growled, the uncharacteristic roughness in his voice sending fresh waves of heat through her body.

He pulled her more fully onto the bed beside him, making room despite the narrow space. Y/n found herself pressed against the solid warmth of his uninjured side, their bodies aligned from shoulder to hip. The position should have been uncomfortable, even awkward, yet somehow felt more right than anything she'd experienced in fifteen years of calculated survival.

Mingi's mouth found hers again, the kiss deeper now, more consuming. One large hand spanned her ribcage, fingers splayed wide as if attempting to memorize her shape through touch alone. When his thumb brushed the underside of her breast, even through clothing, y/n arched into his touch with a gasp.

The sound seemed to ignite something primal in him. His kisses moved from her lips to her jaw, then down the column of her throat – deliberate exploration that left trails of fire in its wake. When his teeth grazed the sensitive junction where neck met shoulder, y/n's fingers tightened in his hair, her body responding with instinctive hunger.

"Mingi," she breathed, his name both plea and permission.

His hand moved higher, finally cupping her breast fully through the fabric of her dress. The weight of his palm, the deliberate pressure of his fingers, drew another soft sound from her throat. Their bodies shifted against each other, finding natural rhythm despite the constraints of their position and his injury.

Y/n's own hands became bolder, one sliding beneath the hem of his loose shirt to explore the warm skin and solid muscle of his uninjured side. Her fingers traced the ridges of old scars – testament to years of battles fought while searching for her – before traveling higher across his chest.

Mingi's breathing grew more ragged as her exploration continued. His own hand abandoned her breast to begin working at the fastenings of her dress, deft fingers making quick work of the first few buttons despite his usual preference for minimal speech over manual dexterity.

"Want to see you," he murmured against her collarbone, the simple statement somehow more arousing than elaborate declarations might have been. "All of you."

"Yes," y/n agreed, helping him with the remaining buttons until the top of her dress fell open, revealing the simple binding beneath.

Mingi pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes darkening further as they took in the newly exposed skin. There was something reverent in his gaze, appreciation mixed with hunger in a combination uniquely his.

"Beautiful," he stated, the word carrying absolute certainty.

His hand returned to her breast, this time with only thin fabric between his palm and her skin. Y/n closed her eyes at the sensation, surrendering to the pleasure of his touch after so many years of keeping others at careful distance. When his thumb brushed across her nipple, she couldn't contain the moan that escaped her lips.

The sound seemed to break whatever remaining restraint Mingi possessed. He captured her mouth again in a kiss that bordered on desperate, his hand working to unwrap the cloth around her chest. Y/n helped, impatient now for the barrier to be gone, needing to feel his touch without impediment.

As the fabric fell away, Mingi's exploration became more thorough, more deliberate. His calloused palm against her bare skin created sensations that had her pressing closer, seeking more contact, more pressure, more of everything he offered. His mouth followed where his hands led, hot kisses trailing down her throat to the newly exposed curve of her breast.

When his lips closed around her sensitive flesh, Y/n’s back arched, her hand tightening in his hair as waves of pleasure radiated through her body. The careful control she had maintained for fifteen years shattered entirely beneath the heat of his mouth, the deliberate skill of his touch.

Her own hands grew more urgent, tugging at the loose garment covering his torso, needing to feel more of him against her skin. Mingi shifted to accommodate her exploration, helping remove the barrier between them despite the awkward positioning his injury demanded.

When their bare chests finally pressed together, both gasped at the contact. The heat of skin against skin, the intimacy of nothing between them, created connection beyond merely physical sensation. Y/n found herself overwhelmed by the trust implicit in this moment – the vulnerability of allowing another person this close after fifteen years of calculated distance.

Mingi seemed equally affected, his typical reserve completely transformed into raw need. His hands explored every inch of her exposed upper body with meticulous attention, as if mapping territory he had dreamed of discovering for fifteen years. His mouth returned to hers in a kiss that spoke of possession, of claiming, of finding something precious once believed lost forever.

Their bodies moved against each other with increasing urgency, the narrow treatment bed creaking slightly beneath their shifting weight. Y/n found herself pressed beneath him as he carefully maneuvered to hover above her, supporting his weight on his uninjured side while his hand continued its thorough exploration.

When his fingers trailed lower, skimming her waist and pulled her skirt up, Y/n made no move to stop him. Instead, her own hands moved with equal purpose, seeking the ties of his loose pants with determined intent.

"Want you," Mingi stated against her lips, the simple declaration more powerful than elaborate seduction. "Need you."

"Yes," Y/n agreed, the word both answer and demand. "Now."

He pulled her skirt up, bunching it around her waist, her own hands having achieved similar progress with his garments, when the medical bay door swung open with dramatic flair.

"Good morning, my invalid friend! I come bearing Wooyoung's special healing broth, guaranteed to—OH SWEET MERCIFUL HEAVENS!"

The theatrical exclamation shattered the moment like glass. Y/n’s eyes flew open as Mingi's head whipped toward the doorway, where Wooyoung froze, tray in hand, eyes widening at the scene before him: Y/n and Mingi entangled on the narrow treatment bed, clothing in various states of disarray, both flushed and breathing heavily.

“GET OUT!" Mingi barked, the command carrying such force that Wooyoung actually jumped.

But the cook had already recovered his typical theatrical poise, a broad grin spreading across his face as he carefully set his tray down on a nearby table, making absolutely no move toward the exit.

"Well, well, WELL!" he announced, crossing his arms with obvious satisfaction. "Isn't THIS an interesting development! To think I was worried our wounded hero might be getting BORED during his recovery. Clearly, he's receiving the MOST attentive care!"

Y/n scrambled to pull the front of her dress closed and her skirt down, heat flooding her face for entirely different reasons than moments before. Mingi, showing remarkable composure despite the interruption, shifted to partially shield her from view while reaching for his discarded garment.

"Wooyoung," he growled, the single word carrying clear warning despite its minimal delivery.

"Don't mind me," Wooyoung continued, a mischievous grin spreading across his features though something wistful lingered in his eyes. "Just the ship's cook making his morning delivery. Though I see you've already found something far more appetizing to taste."

"Woo!" Y/n exclaimed, mortification battling with reluctant amusement at his characteristic cheek.

"What terrible timing I have," he lamented, though the twinkle in his eye suggested the opposite. "Or excellent timing, depending on one's perspective. Yeosang would certainly argue for the latter, considering he spent hours repairing our gunner's injuries. Imagine his reaction if certain... vigorous activities... reopened freshly stitched wounds."

Despite her embarrassment, Y/n couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. Trust Wooyoung to transform even this awkward moment into something approaching comedy.

"Are you going to stand there all day making comments, or are you going to give us some privacy?" she asked, having managed to mostly reassemble her clothing.

"That depends," Wooyoung replied, Sitting on a near by chair with theatrical flourish. "Are you two planning to resume activities that might require audience participation? Because I'd be devastated to miss my cue if so."

Mingi's expression darkened, though not with his earlier anger. "Wooyoung," he said again, voice low but carrying clear intent. "Out."

"So demanding," Wooyoung sighed dramatically, though he stood up and began backing toward the door. "I suppose I'll have to wait my turn, like a gentleman." His eyes met Y/n’s briefly, something genuine flickering beneath his playful exterior. "Though I hope you'll remember the rest of us are equally eager for... private conversations."

The implication hung in the air as he retreated, "Carry on, lovebirds! I'll just leave this nutritious breakfast here and be on my merry way. Though perhaps I should hang a warning sign outside? 'DO NOT DISTURB: Intense Physical Therapy In Progress'? Or maybe 'CAUTION: Healing Through Happiness Underway'?"

"Woo," Y/n repeated, her face burning despite years of practiced composure. "If you value your continued existence—"

"Say no more!" he declared, backing toward the door with theatrical movements, though his grin never faltered. "Your secret is safe with me! Well, mostly safe. Somewhat safe. Safe-adjacent, let's say."

When the door finally closed, Y/n buried her face against Mingi's shoulder, equal parts mortified and amused by the interruption.

"He'll tell everyone," she groaned, though without real distress.

"Probably already has," Mingi agreed, his arm wrapping around her shoulders in protective gesture despite the lingering tension evident in his body.

Y/n pulled back slightly to meet his eyes, finding them still dark with desire despite Wooyoung's theatrical intrusion. "Are you concerned? About the others knowing?"

Mingi considered this with characteristic thoroughness, his expression thoughtful despite the interrupted passion still evident in his flushed skin and quickened breathing.

"Not concerned," he decided finally. "But complicated."

The simple assessment contained volumes beneath its surface. Y/n nodded, understanding flowing between them without requiring elaborate explanation. The five officers of the ATEEZ had spent fifteen years searching for her, each carrying their own form of memory, their own version of connection. What happened between any two of them affected the entire delicate balance of relationships aboard the ship.

"They all care for you," Mingi continued, unusual verbosity revealing the importance of what he was trying to communicate. "Hongjoong. Seonghwa. Yunho. Wooyoung. Different ways, but same depth. Same commitment."

"I know," Y/n acknowledged, something warm unfurling in her chest at the simple truth. These five men who had once been boys protecting a little girl had grown into something extraordinary – not just fearsome pirates or skilled officers, but humans capable of maintaining connection across fifteen years of separation and change.

"And you?" she asked, her hand coming up to rest against his cheek. "What do you feel?"

Mingi's eyes held hers with characteristic directness. "Love you," he stated simply, the declaration delivered with absolute certainty despite its profound weight. "Always have. Always will."

The straightforward admission, unembellished yet containing depths beyond its minimal verbal presentation, affected Y/n more powerfully than elaborate declarations might have. This was Mingi – honest in all things, precise in his assessments, saying exactly what he meant without strategic calculation or unnecessary embroidery.

"I think I've always loved you too," she confessed, the words emerging with surprising ease despite fifteen years of careful self-protection. "Even when I couldn't remember exactly who you were, there was this space inside me that only you could fill."

Satisfaction settled across his features at her response, his arm tightening around her shoulders. "Good," he replied, the simple acknowledgment somehow perfectly adequate.

For several comfortable moments, they remained close despite their interrupted passion, Y/n’s head resting against his shoulder as their breathing gradually slowed to normal rhythm. Unlike awkwardness that might have followed such an interruption between others, their connection remained steady. 

"Wooyoung wasn't entirely wrong," Y/n observed eventually, reluctant humor warming her voice. "Yeosang would probably execute us both if we tore your stitches through... vigorous activities."

The ghost of a smile touched Mingi's lips. "Worth it," he stated, though his nod acknowledged the practical reality. "But can wait until healed."

"To be continued," she agreed, pressing a final kiss to his lips before sliding carefully from the narrow treatment bed.

As she straightened her clothing and helped Mingi adjust his position more appropriately for a recovering patient, Y/n found herself contemplating the complex constellation of relationships aboard the ATEEZ. Five men who had searched for fifteen years, each carrying their own form of devotion. Each important to her in ways both similar and distinct.

Hongjoong with his strategic brilliance and unexpected tenderness, remembering her as "Treasure" through fifteen years of searching. Seonghwa with his methodical precision and deep-seated guilt, arranging her quarters with careful attention while keeping emotional distance. Yunho with his gentle strength and endless patience, teaching her stars when surrounded by darkness. Wooyoung with his theatrical joy and perceptive understanding, making her laugh when laughter seemed impossible. And Mingi, quiet and watchful, creating beauty in wooden animals left like breadcrumbs across the maritime world.

Five different connections, five different forms of love, all directed toward her with unwavering commitment despite fifteen years of separation. The realization should have felt overwhelming, perhaps even frightening. Instead, it created unexpected warmth within her chest – not the heat of passion interrupted, but deeper contentment that transcended merely physical connection.

For someone who had survived fifteen years of captivity through strategic calculation and careful self-protection, this new reality represented unfamiliar territory beyond tactical assessment or practical evaluation. Yet somehow, aboard this feared pirate vessel with its mismatched family of determined souls, Y/n found herself open to possibilities she had never dared consider during those long years of isolation.

"What are you thinking?" Mingi asked, observing her expression with characteristic perception despite his continued recovery.

Y/n smiled, genuine and unguarded in a way she rarely permitted herself. "That finding all of you was worth fifteen years of waiting," she replied honestly. "Even with Wooyoung's terrible timing."

Mingi's answering smile – not the ghost of one or hint of one that occasionally appeared, but genuine expression that transformed his features completely – was worth every moment of interrupted passion.

"Agreed," he stated simply. "Though next time, locking the door first."

Her laugh echoed through the medical bay, the sound carrying freedom beyond mere amusement.

After helping Mingi settle back into a more appropriate position for recovery, Y/n smoothed her clothing one final time and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her lips still tingled from his kisses, her skin warm where his hands had explored.

"I should go before Yeosang returns," she said softly. "He'd never let either of us hear the end of it."

Mingi nodded, though reluctance was evident in his eyes. "Come back later little shadow?"

"Of course puppy," she promised. "Try to rest until then."

The ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Difficult now. Have better things to think about than sleeping."

His uncharacteristically playful response drew a laugh from her as she moved toward the door. With one last glance at Mingi – looking far too satisfied for someone still recovering from a serious injury – she slipped into the corridor, closing the door quietly behind her.

She had taken only three steps when she realized she wasn't alone.

Hongjoong leaned against the opposite wall, arms crossed casually over his chest, watching her with unmistakable heat in his dark eyes. The captain's usual composed authority remained, but beneath it lurked something far more dangerous – and enticing.

"Captain," she acknowledged, fighting to keep her voice steady despite the sudden acceleration of her heartbeat. "I was just—"

"I know exactly what you were 'just' doing," Hongjoong interrupted, his voice low and rich with amusement. He pushed away from the wall with fluid grace, closing the distance between them in two measured steps. "Wooyoung was quite... descriptive."

Heat flooded Y/n’ cheeks. "Woo talks too much."

"Sometimes," Hongjoong agreed, a slow smile spreading across his features. There was nothing of the captain's usual strategic calculation in that smile – only pure masculine appreciation that sent fresh waves of warmth through her body. "Though in this case, I find myself grateful for his detailed reporting."

Before she could formulate a response, he moved closer still, his proximity forcing her back until she felt the corridor wall behind her. He didn't touch her – not yet – but the heat radiating from his body made her acutely aware of just how little space remained between them.

"Seems our gunner has been making excellent use of his recovery time," Hongjoong observed, his eyes dropping to her lips, lingering there before returning to meet her gaze. "I find myself envious of his... therapeutic approach."

Y/n swallowed, caught between embarrassment and an entirely different kind of heat that had nothing to do with being discovered and everything to do with the man now standing so close she could feel his breath against her skin.

"I didn't plan for that to happen," she said, the words emerging more breathless than intended. "It just... did."

Hongjoong’s hand finally rising to brush that same stubborn strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek in deliberate echo of Mingi's earlier touch. "I'm surprised any of us can maintain restraint at all, now that we've found you."

The simple acknowledgment – that all five of them felt the same powerful draw toward her – created fresh warmth spreading through her chest. Not merely desire but deeper connection that transcended physical attraction.

"And you, Captain?" she asked, finding unexpected boldness despite her position between the solid wall and his equally solid presence. "What's your excuse for cornering me in the corridor?"

Something dangerous flashed in Hongjoong's eyes – challenge recognized and accepted. "Perhaps I'm tired of waiting my turn," he murmured, his hand sliding from her cheek to cup the nape of her neck. "Perhaps finding you with Mingi made me realize how quickly things can change. How opportunities can be lost if one hesitates too long."

His fingers tightened slightly in her hair, not painful but possessive in a way that echoed Mingi's earlier touch while carrying Hongjoong's unique signature – deliberate control balanced with unmistakable intent.

"And what opportunity would that be?" Y/n asked, her voice dropping to match his hushed intensity.

Instead of answering with words, Hongjoong eliminated the remaining distance between them. Unlike Mingi's initially hesitant approach, the captain's kiss was confident from the first contact – claiming rather than exploring, taking rather than asking. His body pressed hers against the wall, one hand remaining tangled in her hair while the other settled at her hip, fingers digging into the curve with unmistakable hunger.

Y/n responded with equal fervor, her hands rising to grasp his shoulders, pulling him closer despite the voice of caution reminding her they were in a public corridor where anyone might discover them. The risk only seemed to heighten the sensation – the forbidden nature of being caught between wall and captain making every touch more electric, every sensation more intense.

When Hongjoong's teeth caught her lower lip in deliberate nip, she gasped, the sound swallowed by his mouth as he deepened the kiss further. His hand at her hip slid lower, fingers splaying across her thigh in possessive grip that had her arching into his touch despite the public setting.

"Treasure," he breathed against her lips, the childhood nickname transformed into something far more adult by the hunger in his voice. "Do you have any idea what you do to me? To all of us?"

Before she could respond, the sound of voices approaching from an adjoining passage forced them apart – Hongjoong stepping back with visible reluctance while Y/n attempted to compose herself despite her racing pulse and flushed skin.

They had barely achieved reasonable distance when Yunho and Seonghwa appeared around the corner, deep in discussion about ship repairs. Both men stopped abruptly upon seeing them, their conversation forgotten as they took in Y/n’s disheveled appearance and Hongjoong's unusual proximity.

"Captain," Seonghwa acknowledged, his precise gaze missing nothing as it moved between them. "Y/n. I thought you were with Mingi in the medical bay."

"I was," she confirmed, fighting to keep her voice steady. "I'm just on my way to get some fresh air."

Something shifted in Yunho's typically gentle expression as his eyes moved from her flushed face to her slightly swollen lips. Unlike his usual warm concern, heat flared in his gaze – recognition of what had been happening moments before their arrival, and unmistakable interest in participating himself.

Seonghwa's response was more controlled, as always, yet even his precisely maintained composure couldn't entirely disguise the flicker of hunger that crossed his features before being carefully suppressed beneath quartermasterly efficiency.

"I see Wooyoung wasn't exaggerating for once," he observed, his tone measured despite the intensity in his gaze.

"Wooyoung has been quite informative this morning," Hongjoong agreed, not bothering to disguise the satisfaction in his voice. "Though I find personal verification significantly more... rewarding."

The implication hung in the air between them, Y/n playfully smacked Hongjoong on the arm. 

“Joongie!” She scolded with a laugh, earning a chuckle from the captain. 

Seonghwa hesitated before he began to ask, “Y/n if I could have world in private soon?”

Before she could respond, another voice joined the increasingly crowded hallway.

"Am I interrupting another private moment?" Wooyoung asked, appearing in the corridor. "Or is this particular encounter intended as a group activity? Because I must say, I'm delighted either way."

Despite her embarrassment, y/n couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. Appreciating his ability to lighten any mood. 

"You've been quite busy this morning, haven't you?" she observed, finding her voice despite the overwhelming awareness of being surrounded by five men whose gazes all held varying degrees of unmistakable hunger.

"Just fulfilling my duties as ship's intelligence officer," Wooyoung replied with an exaggerated bow. "Ensuring all relevant parties are appropriately informed of significant developments."

"And embellishing those developments with your characteristic flair, no doubt," Seonghwa added dryly. 

"I merely reported what these eyes witnessed," Wooyoung protested, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. "Though I admit, had I arrived a few minutes later, I suspect there would have been considerably more to report."

Hongjoong's low chuckle – a sound that contained both amusement and something far more dangerous – drew all attention back to him. The captain's natural authority reasserted itself despite the unusual circumstances, his strategic mind clearly working through implications and possibilities even in this most personal of situations.

"I believe we should continue this discussion elsewhere," he decided, his gaze returning to y/n with unmistakable intent. "Unless our newly discovered crew member has duties requiring immediate attention?"

Y/n found herself surrounded by five pairs of eyes, each containing unique variation of the same fundamental desire. Hongjoong's calculating heat, Seonghwa's precisely controlled hunger, Yunho's gentle but unmistakable want, Wooyoung's theatrical yet genuine interest, and through the closed door behind her, Mingi's quiet but absolute claim.

Five men who each carrying their own form of devotion, each important to her in ways both similar and distinct. The realization should have felt overwhelming, perhaps even frightening. Instead, it created unexpected thrill within her – not merely physical desire but deeper recognition of possibility beyond anything she might have imagined during those long years of captivity.

"No urgent duties," she replied, finding unexpected confidence despite the intensity surrounding her. "Though I do need to check back on Mingi."

"Mingi has had his turn," Wooyoung observed cheerfully, though something more serious lurked beneath his theatrical delivery. "It seems only fair the rest of us have equal opportunity for private conversation, wouldn't you agree?"

The implication – that what had begun with Mingi might continue with any or all of them – hung in the air with unmistakable clarity. Y/n looked between them, seeing not competition but shared understanding flowing beneath surface tension. These men had built lives around searching for her; there would be no petty jealousy or possessive demands, only mutual recognition of connection that transcended conventional limitations.

"I believe that's for y/n to decide," Hongjoong stated, his captain's authority tempering the heat in his gaze. "Without pressure or expectation."

"Of course," Seonghwa agreed immediately, his quartermaster's precision bringing structure to potentially chaotic situation. "Personal agency remains paramount regardless of... mutual interest."

"Always your choice," Yunho added, his gentle nature reasserting itself despite the continued warmth in his eyes. "In all things."

"But should you find yourself inclined toward exploring these newfound possibilities," Wooyoung concluded with characteristic flair, "I believe I speak for all of us when I say we would be delighted to accommodate your curiosity. Individually or collectively, depending on your preference."

Y/n felt heat rising to her cheeks again, though not from embarrassment alone. The power of their collective attention, the certainty of their unified desire, created intoxicating awareness of possibilities she had never permitted herself to consider during those long years of careful survival.

"I think," she said carefully, finding surprising steadiness despite the intensity surrounding her, "that we should take things one step at a time. Though I appreciate knowing where everyone stands."

"Or could potentially lie," Wooyoung quipped with exaggerated eyebrow waggle that broke some of the corridor's tension, drawing reluctant smiles even from Seonghwa.

"Perhaps we should allow y/n some space," Yunho suggested, his typical consideration prevailing despite the heat that still lingered in his gaze.

"Agreed," Hongjoong nodded, though his eyes held promise of continued exploration when circumstances permitted. "We can manage a few more hours without overwhelming our newest crew member."

“As I was saying before, I would like to speak with you privately little dove?” Seonghwa said, a slight blush creeping his face at his slip of using the nickname. 

A whistle come from Wooyoung, earning a playful scowl from Seonghwa before he turned back to Y/n. “I assure you my only goal is to speak with you, not to do..other activities.” He blushed again. 

Y/n smiled brightly, joy overtaking her now that Seonghwa was speaking with her again. “Of course Hwa, we can speak privately whenever you wish. No formal invitation required.”

As the impromptu gathering dispersed – Seonghwa and Yunho returning to their ship duties, Wooyoung heading toward the galley with theatrical backward glance, Hongjoong moving toward the upper deck after one final heated look – y/n found herself alone in the corridor, her heart still racing from the unexpected intensity of the encounter.

Something had fundamentally shifted aboard the ATEEZ, barriers falling that had seemed immovable only days before. What had begun as simple reconnection following fifteen years of separation had transformed into something far more complex – and exciting – than she could have anticipated when first boarding this vessel as "Ella."

As she made her way toward the observation deck, needing fresh air to clear her head, y/n found herself contemplating the extraordinary turn her life had taken. From property passed between owners to woman desired by five extraordinary men who had spent fifteen years searching for her. From careful survival through strategic calculation to freedom of genuine choice and authentic connection.

Y/n was filled with thoughts racing through her mind. Intimacy would require her to show her scars, she had been lucky with Mingi not noticing. How would this change her dynamic with them all? Would it be permanent? 

As she looked towards Hongjoong, who was watching her with a look that sent shivers through her, she knew one thing for certain. She had opened a new door between them all, one she couldn’t wait to explore. 

Taglist: @hopeless-lovex0 @frankielou02 @jilxxasu @kur0kki @lezleeferguson-120 @uniquecloudbread @miniverse-zen @symmieangela @monstacheol @ateezswonderland @comicnerd557 @pixie0627 @fumaluvr @princesscallie @green-moon @starryjoong-jeongcheollie @wiccanmetallicrose @atinyapple1117 @sassy-snassy @soulphoenix1618 @wxnderingthoughts @mdurir @awkward-fucking-thing @herpoetryprincess

[bluewatersfairy]

ease my mind (come over) - j.p.

a/n: happy new year! here's the first part of a series that's been sitting in my drafts for months (it'll be about 4 parts, the first two are written).

synopsis: reader is in their first year on the wizard's media team and has a run in with the teams star while working late at the facility.

warnings: none! my first clean nba fic, how far we have come.

word count: 1.8k she's short and cute

•••

Your eyes felt like they were starting to burn with how long you’d been glued to your computer screen.  This was your first year working media for the Wizards and you were determined to prove yourself a worthy hire.  

Having lived in Washington for University, you’d attended several Wizards games over the years – they were a good first date option and you often found yourself cheering for the underdog.  One of the last guys you’d gone with had assumed you were from the area, commenting on how you were so overprotective of a team that has definitely seen better years.  That’s part of the reason why when someone posted the job vacancy on one of your old class pages, you applied.  

Now you were a week in with the media team and today was your first day with the actual team and everything had been blowing by you so quickly, you barely had time to process it.  So far, they’d given you jobs that were difficult to fuck up, but you wanted more than that.  You were above an intern (thank god) so you were actually shooting the camera and editing, but it was all behind-the-scenes shots.  

It was a bit like being a kid at a family event.  You were shadowing a few higher ups and fading into the background as best as possible while they were doing their thing with the players.  Most, if not all, of your shots that you’d been working on all night had included no players' faces.  Barely any faces actually.  But you’d created something of a story out of it and had managed to turn each photo into something you were proud of.  

In your head, it was giving justice-league doing interviews after saving the city.  You had everyone on the roster and could easily make a graphic out of it.  You had that fizzy feeling in your fingers as you switched between your tablet and the computer, mapping out what it could be for your pitch tomorrow.  

Interrupting your stream of thought, your phone lit up on the desk beside you, violently vibrating – making you jump.  It was your roommate calling to see when you were going to be home.  It was gone midnight and they were starting to get worried.  You begrudgingly told them you’d be home by one and started to get ready to go.  You made sure to transfer the pictures you’d spent hours on to your tablet as well as a few video clips you’d taken “just in case”.  It was gonna take 25 minutes for everything to transfer (the wifi was stupidly slow), so you grabbed your camera and phone and figured you’d take a walk around the facility and see if there was anything that caught your attention.  

You weren’t thinking of much, maybe you’d find a fun angle of the courts or something about the building that seemed aesthetically pleasing.  You were all of 3 metres out of your office when you heard the faint echo of basketballs hitting the floor and shoes squeaking.  Not exactly what you were expecting, but you followed it all the same. 

Standing at the doorway to the basketball courts, you were met with the one and only #13, Jordan Poole, shooting mid range jumpers.  He had his earbuds in and was shirtless, glistening in sweat.  He’d clearly been here for a while.  You hadn’t realised you’d been so concentrated that you didn’t hear the only other sound in the building until you were pushed out of your office.  The door was wide open too. 

“Yoo,” Jordan dragged out in surprise when he turned to see you.  His hand instinctively reached up to take one of his earbuds out and he knocked away a ball.  His eyes first scanned over your face, then down your body before they landed on your camera.  He made eye contact with you and stood still for a second before pointing at you.

“You’re the new media girl,” he identified as he started to walk a bit closer to you, a ball now tucked under his arm, “I’m not gonna pretend to know your name but I’m Jordan.”  He held his hand out to you and you slowly took it, staring up at him minorly confused and somewhat dazed.

“I know,” the words fell out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.  He smirked briefly and let go of your hand, “I’m Y/N, and yeah.  The new media girl.”  

“I didn’t think anyone else was here,” he said tilting his head to the side, “I would’ve let you know otherwise.  I’ve got a key and all the alarm codes so you don’t have to worry about me getting out if you’re heading home.”  

“Oh, I’m not-” you cut yourself off again and looked behind you at nothing in particular, “I mean, I am about to leave, but I’m not.  Yet.”  Every part of your body was telling you to stop talking, to say goodnight, turn around and leave.  But your feet couldn’t move.  You were stuck in mud under Jordan’s gaze.  He looked tired, really tired.

“You look like you have a question,” he smiled as he took out his other earbud, “or like you're lost.  I can’t really tell.”  He chuckled a little, mostly to himself and turned his eyes to the floor before he started walking to where his stuff was.  

“I’m not that type of media person,” you said, slowly following him, “I just take pictures and videos, I don’t ask questions.”  You stopped about 4 metres away from where he was bent over.  He was putting his earbuds away, you realised.

“You, as a person,” he turned his head to face you, “don’t ask questions?” he raised his eyebrows and again started to smirk.  He was playing with you, teasing you.  You were too tired to properly process any of this. 

“I do, of course!” you exclaimed a little too loudly, your eyes widening at the sound of your voice, “I ask too many actually, but I don't get paid to, y’know?  So you don’t have to do any dodging with me, I just,” you paused and raised your camera, “take pictures.”

“And videos,” he added, pointing at you.  

“And videos.”  You took a deep breath and lowered your hand.  You were realising, right then, that you did in fact have a question for him.  

“Can I ask you a question?”

He smiled, like he was waiting for you to get there and patted the seat beside him, “only if you sit down next to me.”

So you did.  You sat down and pulled your legs up to tuck them under you.  Jordan turned slightly so he was facing you better and for the first time, you caught his scent.  It was mixed with his sweat, but it was rich and smooth, and oh so familiar.  Not that you could put your finger on it.  

“Hit me,” he said, pulling you out of your head again.  He smiled brightly at you and you returned it.

“Is there something about our media team that makes you uncomfortable?” you blurted out, it’d been on the tip of your tongue all day.  “At Golden State, you seemed so warm to the media team, but here, you look like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

His smile slowly faded and he looked down at his lap, biting his bottom lip slightly before pushing his lips together.  He looked at you and pushed his tongue between his teeth. 

“It’s not just with this team, your team,” Jordan said honestly, “there was just a point where I felt like I couldn’t say the right thing so I just,” he paused and leant back in his seat, “pulled back with them.”  

Jordan sat in thought for a moment before turning to look at you to see what you had to say.  You didn’t have much, to be honest.  You’d not known this media team all that long and the only reason you even knew any of this was because you were a fan of the team.  And Jordan.  

“I feel like I’ve seen you before,” Jordan broke out of the conversation and leant forward, dropping the look of vulnerability that very briefly crossed his face.  “‘You come to games often?”

You laughed, accepting you were moving on from your once serious conversation.  “I do, it’s sort of my go-to first date idea.”  

Jordan made a face before the two of you shared a quick chuckle, “you like watching your home team lose on a date?”  

“Hey,” you quipped, swatting at his arm, god his arms were solid, “you guys won most of the games I was at.”  

He rolled his eyes and chuckled a little, “no wonder I remember your face then, you must be our good luck charm.”

Before you could respond your phone started buzzing again.  Your roommate was video calling you this time, not a good sign.  So, you declined it and tucked it under your thigh.  

“It’s late,” Jordan said as he glanced at his watch.  He’d watched you decline a call from one ‘loveyyy’ and he decided he wasn’t putting himself in a smart position.  “You must have someone waiting at home for you.”

“Just a roommate who listens to the traffic radar too much,” you stood up, following Jordan and looked up at him for a moment when a thought crossed your mind.

“Did you enjoy doing the mini mic interviews?”  He was caught off guard, it showed in the way his eyebrows shot up and he instantly smiled.

“I did,” he nodded his head, “I dunno why they didn’t try and keep them going here.  They talked about it for a minute last season.”  

That was your entry point, you were sure of it.  Jordan was always stand offish towards everyone but he seemed to like talking to you.  If you could get him a mini mic and a few questions, you were sure you could make something of it.  A season-long series would basically prove your worth, secure you a proper spot on the team and Jordan was their best option for media engagement.  He was charismatic and good looking; the perfect poster boy. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you called to him as you started walking off, your brain in quick motion, “hopefully with a mini mic.”

“I look forward to it,” Jordan called out after you.

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what he’d just set up, but he liked your vibe.  You were easy to talk to and finally stopped the thought that had been spinning in his head all day.  This felt like a do-or-die season.  If he didn’t play his best, he wasn’t sure they’d keep him around come February.  And he wanted to stay here, he wanted to make a name for himself separate from everyone else.   

[guzhufuren]

hi!! i was hoping you could help me find a ql to watch w my sister, im looking for one that is comedic/wacky, i tried searching and only found dramatic shows. i like your sense of humor, so i trust u with funny business lol

i made you a list of my favourite ql comedies! since you like my sense of humor, i picked those that got a belly deep laugh out of me many times. all those are either comedic on purpose, so absurd they become comedic and total crack, or just tv shows that have incredible humor at times

sorted in the order with funniest ones placed on top, country placement included. i'd start with 1-4, they are a safe bet to laugh lots. heads up, 1, 10, 13, 16 have darker or angstier elements later on. only one gl because it's still a developing genre and has much fewer options for now. sorry that i don't have gifs for newer shows

overall in this list we got ancient chinese romcoms, mafia bread kink, gay seizures, identifying missing people through sneezing, omegaverse mama-papa kink, and so much more crazyass shit

Comedic QL Shows

China 🇨🇳

1. Meet You At The Blossom period drama; fantasy; scum lead/sunshine lead

A young lord of marriageable age meets a cold-blooded assassin. Jin Xiaobao, the cheerful heir of the wealthiest family in Jiangnan, sees a beautiful woman fighting in a forest and falls in love with her at first sight. This “woman”, however, turns out to be a disguised icy young man named Huaien. When Huaien learns who Xiaobao is, he hatches a plot – hoping to use Xiaobao's feelings for him to access the Jin family's riches. But his plan backfires when Huaien starts to develop real feelings for Xiaobao.

YouTube or GagaOOLala or iQIYI or Viki (switch to chinese dubbing on yt and iq)

Japan 🇯🇵

2. Love Is Like a Poison lawyer/conman; cohabitation; partners

An elite but socially awkward lawyer takes in a genius con artist. Together, they secretly solve complex legal cases using unethically obtained evidence.

Netflix

3. Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko! wlw; office setting; age gap; misunderstanding

Ayaka, a young office worker, is madly in love with her senior team leader, Hiroko. As Ayaka tries to make her attraction known, Hiroko consistently misreads the situation, thinking that Ayaka is a straight girl.

GagaOOLala

4. Mr. Unlucky Has No Choice But to Kiss! lucky guy/unlucky guy; university setting

College student Fukuhara has bad luck that causes problems everywhere he goes. One day, Shinomiya, a student with super good luck, helps him out. Now, in order to divide the luck between them, Fukuhara needs to be with Shinomiya all the time.

Viki or GagaOOLala

5. Cherry Magic!   mind reading; secret crush; office setting

By still being a vіrgin at 30, Adachi gains a magical power – the ability to read other people’s minds by touching them. At first, he’s overwhelmed by his new ability, and it’s not proving to be helpful to him. But that all changes when he accidentally touches their office’s most perfect guy Kurosawa, who he learns has romantic feelings for him.

WeTV

6. Kieta Hatsukoi (My Love Mix-Up!)   misunderstanding; high school setting

Aoki has a crush on Hashimoto, the girl in the seat next to him in class. But he despairs when he borrows her eraser and sees she’s written the name of another boy — Ida — on it. To make matters more confusing, Ida sees Aoki holding that very eraser and thinks Aoki has a crush on him!

Viki

7. What Did You Eat Yesterday established relationship; growth; food

The story follows Shiro and Kenji, a middle aged gay couple living in Tokyo. Shiro is a serious and reserved lawyer, while Kenji is cheerful and outgoing hairdresser. Shiro's regular routine is that after work, he buys groceries at a mart, goes home and makes dinner for himself and Kenji.

S1 & New Year Special & movie & S2

8. A Man Who Defies the World of BL breaking the 4th wall; comedy; university setting

It suddenly dawns on Mob that he lives in a BL world! So he must turn down any hot guys who approach him.

Viki or GagaOOLala (S1) & Viki or GagaOOLala (S2) & Fansubs (S3)

South Korea 🇰🇷

9. Love Tractor farm setting; farmer/city musician

Sunyeol, a city man with zero ability to survive in the countryside, comes to his grandfather’s rural home. In front of him appears Yechan, a passionate and kind young farmer. While learning about rural life and assisting with farming tasks, Sunyeol gradually finds himself drawn to Yechan’s warm and straightforward nature, while Yechan helplessly falls for Sunyeol.

iQIYI

10. Boys Be Brave! perfectionist/chill slacker; secret crush; roommates

Giseop is Jinwoo's slacker friend - and secret crush. So when Giseop asks to crash at his place, his heart tingles to be near him everyday. But as the short stay turns into permanent mooch, how long can Jinwoo keep his true feelings under wraps and hold back from confessing?

Viki

11. Choco Milk Shake animals turned to humans; roommates

One day, two handsome strangers enter Jung Woo’s house and claim they are Choco and Milk, the reincarnation of his childhood pets, a dog and a cat. The arrival of the two embarks on a new beginning and the quest to discover love.

YouTube

Taiwan 🇹🇼

12. See Your Love injured rich man/caretaker; deaf character

Zixiang is sent to Taiwan for business negotiations but gets attacked. He hires Shaopeng to take care of him, and takes this opportunity to escape from his family responsibility while also falling for Shaopeng. Zixiang's assistant Jonathan acts as a stand-in for his boss, and Xinjia, the assassin hired to get rid of Zixiang, repeatedly fails to take out his target.

GagaOOLala or Viki or iQIYI

Thailand 🇹🇭

13. KinnPorsche mafia boss/bodyguard; action; kidnapper/kidnapee side couple

Kinn, a son of a prominent mafia head, is ambushed by an enemy, and meets Porsche, a bartender who comes to his rescue for a price, thus beginning their reluctant relationship as boss and bodyguard, which soon turns into something more.

iQIYI

14. Wandee Goodday doctor/boxer; friends with benefits; fake relationship

Because of a broken heart and drunkenness, doctor Wandee becomes involved with boxer Yak and their relationship develops from friends with benefits to something more profound.

YouTube

15. Knock Knock, Boys! roommates; ensemble show

Four boys move into a sharehouse and get closer after getting drinks. Almond makes a wager with his three roommates. If one of them manages to hook him up with his crush, he'll cover one year of their rent.

WeTV

16. My Stand-In stuntman/rich heir; scum romantic interest; transmigration

Stuntman Joe didn't realise that his lover Ming had always seen him as another man's replacement. Joe, reincarnated into another's body after an accident, reconnects with his ex Ming, who was looking for Joe for a long time.

iQIYI

17. Pit Babe omegaverse; alpha/alpha; car racing

Babe is the number one race car driver and an alpha with special abilities who only has sex with other alphas. Nerdy naive alpha Charlie approaches Babe to ask for his help to become a racer himself. Babe agrees to help Charlie realise his dream, but it will come with a price.

Uncut on iQIYI or cut on YouTube

*You can also watch most of these shows for free on KissKH

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Spooky Season | Halloween Event 2024

Hidden Secrets | Joshua

🧡 Pairing: Serial Killer!Joshua Hong x Oblivious-Wife!Reader.

🖤 Requested by: anon

🧡 Prompt: 13 - There's a killer on the loose. It just so happens to be Readers loving husband.

🖤 Warnings: Murder, serial murders, 'psychopathy gene' is mentioned, there's a silly woman who thinks she can come between the couple. this is loosely based on the start of the first episode of the k-drama Mouse. Watch it if you haven't already, I loved it, especially the first half of the series.

🧡 Word Count: 1,885

🖤 Taglist: Open. Send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form. Please note that the halloween event taglist is included in the general taglist.

Spooky Season 2024 Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Joshua stands at his front door, his face void of any emotion as he takes a moment to himself before putting on a cheerful smile and entering the home he shares with his pregnant wife.  

“Hi, honey,” he beams, wrapping her in a warm embrace and planting a gentle kiss on her cheek. “How was your day? I hope the little one didn’t give you too much trouble.” He places a hand on her belly, feeling the baby shift inside. With just three weeks to go until the due date, the little guy has been more active than ever.  

“It was good! He’s been a little angel,” she replies with a smile. “Just really active. I think he’s – did you get hurt today?” She asks noticing a red mark on his shirt collar and leans in for a closer look.  

He glances down at the spot she’s inspecting. “Oh, it’s nothing, just a little nosebleed,” he says casually, thinking to himself, ‘I did it again.’ “Really, it’s nothing to worry about,” he reassures her with a soft smile. He takes her hand, which is still on his collar, and kisses her back of her fingers softly. “I’m going to take a shower now.”  

“I’ll warm up some food for you,” she replies, her cheeks flushing from his sweet gesture. He gives her another kiss before heading to the bathroom while she moves to the kitchen.  

Once inside the bathroom, Joshua turns on the shower and removes his shirt, the small blood stain capturing his eye. Standing in front of the mirror, his thoughts drift back to earlier in the night.  

“Just a little nosebleed,” he mutters to himself, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at his own carelessness. He can’t get caught now, not when Y/N’s so close to having his child. The thought of what she might do, especially to his offspring, if she discovers the truth about him sends a shiver down his spine. 

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the TV in the living room hums softly as Y/N stirs the soup she prepared for dinner. She’s only half-listening until a breaking news alert interrupts her thoughts. Another body has been found in the nearby park.  

“Authorities have not confirmed if this murder is connected to the four serial killings that have occurred in the last three months. Residents are advised to stay safe, remain vigilant, and report any suspicious behavior.”  

Y/N’s heart races as she listens to the news. A chill runs through her, and she can’t shake the thought of moving to a safer neighborhood, not wanting to bring her child into a place where a serial killer is on the loose.  

“What are you watching?” Joshua asks, entering the kitchen with a towel around his neck, his hair still damp from the shower. He looks relaxed, as if the weight his job doesn’t rest on his shoulders anymore. 

“They found another body,” she replies, her voice tense.  

He glances at the TV, his back to her, a sinister smile creeping onto his face as he listens to the reporter’s monotone voice go on about the very little information that they have right now. “Oh, that’s terrible,” he says, his voice filled with faux sympathy and sadness. “Maybe it’s time for us to move,” he adds, as if he can read her thoughts, turning to face her. 

Switching off the stove, she ladles some soup into a bowl for him. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. It doesn’t feel safe here anymore.” 

“You’re right,” he agrees, taking the bowl from her. After grabbing some utensils, he sits at the table. “I’m working late again tomorrow but I’ll have Saturday off so we can start looking for a new house outside the area then.” 

“You’re working late again tomorrow?” she asks, her voice filled with confusion and something he hasn’t heard before, unsureness.  

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Do we have something planned?” 

“No,” she shakes her head. “Duri called earlier, something about needing a ride to and from work tomorrow, something about her car being serviced. She thought since you finish and start at the same time and that she lives on the way to work, that she would ask you for a ride,” she explains as she sits in the chair across from him. Y/N had been surprised when her husband’s new co-worker called their home. She was pretty sure only his superiors had their home phone number. “Apparently you were supposed to give her a ride home today but left without her.” 

“Sweetheart,” he says, reaching across the table to take her hand in his. “She never asked me for a ride home today and I will never be giving her a ride anywhere. She lives on the other side of town,” he tries to assure her but the last part is a lie. Duri lives four blocks from them. “Did she try to imply anything?” he asks his wife, wanting to know why she sounded so unsure. 

She nods. “Her whole tone was smug, like the cat that caught the canary. It just didn’t sound genuine.” 

“You trust me right,” he asks. 

She nods again, fiddling with his fingers. “Of course, I do,” she replies, but the slight tremor in her voice betrays her lingering worries. Being heavily pregnant brought about her insecurities about whether Joshua still finds her attractive and still sees her as the woman he fell in love with. It's made worse when a younger more attractive woman has her sights set on her husband and planting seeds of doubt in her mind. 

“Look, Duri, is mad that I made it known that I am a happily married man who loves his beautiful, smart and loving wife more than anything in this world," he states, his voice firm yet loving and soft. He leans closer, his gaze unwavering, as if to make sure she can see the truth in his words. “And I’m not about to risk what we have for some girl who won't take a hint and already has a boyfriend.” ‘I might be a killer but I’d never cheat on you,’ his voice echoes in his mind. He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her skin, “You are everything to me, Y/N. No one can come between us. I want you to remember that.” 

As he speaks, he watches her expression shift, the tension in her shoulders easing. “I wasn’t doubting you,” she admits. “I’m sorry for letting my insecurities get the better of me.” 

“I’m sorry that Duri put them there,” he sighs, his voice sounding a little angry. “I’ll talks to her tomorrow and make sure she never does it again,” he continues as an image of him killing her flashes in her mind. “Until then, is there anything I can do for you.” 

“A foot massage would be nice,” she smiles. “But I’m also out of the chocolate ice cream mochi’s that I love and the convenience store that we usually go to for them is all out.”  

"Do you want me to go find you some?" he asks, finishing his soup. 

"If you don't mind," she says standing up from the chair and picks up his bowl and utensils, taking them to the sink.  

Joshua stands up, following her and takes them from his hand. "I'll go once I've finished cleaning the dishes. You go sit down, put your feet up and put something fun and happy on. I don't want you or our boy listening to talks of dead bodies and serial killers, okay?" 

Not arguing with him, she exits the kitchen and walks into the living room, leaving him to clean his dishes. She sits down on the couch and starts flicking through the channels and eventually stops on a variety show she enjoys watching. 

Once the dishes are washed, dried and put away, Joshua grabs his coat and gives Y/N a quick peck on the lips on his way out the door. On his search to chocolate ice cream mochi, he decides to take a detour, driving the few blocks to Duri’s home. He parks a street away, puts on his ball cap, making sure to hide his face and makes his way to the apartment complex his co-worker lives in with her boyfriend. 

As he approaches the building, his mind races with thoughts of his earlier conversation with Y/N. Duri had always been a pain in his side. He can't shake the feeling of irritation that bubbles beneath the surface. He’s always prided himself on being the one who can handle any situation without resorting to anger. But the idea of her planting seeds of doubt in his wife’s mind triggers a part of him that he cannot ignore. 

He steps into the lobby of the apartment complex and makes his way to the elevator, thankful for his curiosity in finding out where she lived just in case it came to this.  

The elevator doors slide open with a soft ding, and he steps inside, pressing the button for Duri's floor. As the elevator ascends, he takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. He thinks about his unborn child and wonders if he will turn out just like him. Will he be born with the killer instinct, the so-called “psychopathy gene” or will he be weak and easily manipulated like his mother. 

The elevator dings again, and the doors slide open on Duri's floor. Joshua steps into the dimly lit corridor, his determination solidifying as he pushes thoughts of his son and wife aside. He approaches Duri's apartment door, retrieves the hammer from his bag, and knocks firmly. As soon as the door swings open to reveal Duri, he swings the hammer, sending her stumbling backward. 

The shock on her face is almost satisfying, a fleeting moment of triumph that quickly dissipates as he steps inside, closing the door behind him with his foot before he swings the hammer, hitting her over and over again. 

It’s almost an hour later when Joshua walks back through the front door of his home. The first thing he sees as he steps into the living room is Y/N, curled up a sleep on the couch, the TV playing lowly in the background. The glow of the screen casts gentle shadows across her face, illuminating her innocence.  

He quietly moves into the kitchen, placing the chocolate ice cream mochi in the freezer and walks back to his wife. Crouching down beside her, he gently places his hand on her belly, once again feeling his son moving around inside her. 

Y/N stirs slightly, her eyelids fluttering as she begins to wake. He forces a smile once again. “Hey, love,” he whispers, his voice soft and loving. “Let’s get you to bed. You’ll be more comfortable there.”  

“Did you find the mochi ice cream?” she asks as he helps her up from the couch and guides her to their bedroom. 

“It took me an hour but it’s in the freezer, ready for you to eat tomorrow,” he tells her, helping her into bed. 

She smiles, her eyes closing as soon as her head hits the pillow, heavy with sleep. “I love you.” 

He kisses her forehead, “I love you, too.” 

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead

@rainydayteacups - @staytiny2000 - @forever-atiny - @shuaserendipity95 - @do-you-remember-summer-127

@catzachvsvt - @lemur46 - @ateez-atiny380 - @lovrehani - @lixisoul99

@satoruifys

[apollabarnes]

that was us (kid fic au version)

(that was us is my abby and tommy au where they meet much earlier, right after tommy gets out of the army and joins the fire department and they’re together from 2005 to 2008. it’s posted on my ao3!)

about six months after they meet and start dating, abby finds out that she's pregnant

tommy proposes

they have a baby! victoria

the relationship fizzles a few years in, when they both realize that they've become great co-parents but they're not in love with each other (they do love each other, though!)

they juggle their work shifts so that they can swap off tori between them and still go to dispatch/the fire house - gerrard doesn't want to switch tommy off A shift so abby gets a little more flexible, but later captains are willing to swap when they need them

tori's nickname is bug, short for ladybug - because she's got red hair like her mom

buck obviously meets 13 year old tori, who is living mostly with tommy at that point — patricia is not doing well and neither abby nor tommy wants tori to have to experience patricia having an episode and getting scared. tori likes buck a lot but doesn't want her dad to feel like she's picking sides because she's always going to like tommy the best so she just calls him "mom's boyfriend" whenever they talk about him.

(when tommy tells 20 year old tori that he's dating someone named evan it doesn't ring any bells, and she'll get a photo out of her dad eventually but she's in her second year at usc and she's got homework to worry about. at least may is a good partner, because why are there so many group projects!)

tori comes home from school to do laundry, and tommy and buck are making out on the couch. tori's just like "hey dad, hey buck," and keeps going towards the laundry room. all three of them pause, she backtracks, looks at them, starts laughing, goes "mom is going to have a field day." heads back to the kitchen and steals herself one of tommy's craft beers.

tommy and buck have to talk about who tori's mom is. tori finds it HYSTERICAL which oddly enough keeps it from being awkward.

(she tells this story to all of their friends the first time they all get invited over to the house)

[mysillytdsideblog]

My headcanons for mike & co

Vito

Co-host w/ Mike from ages 14-16

Mentally 18-19 ish

System big brother

Handles a lot of the family issues

The one who steps up fr

Sexual Protector Alter

Trauma Holder, but doesnt have a full picture of their trauma

Sexualizes self for attention

Just a cool guy if u get to know him

Wishes he was more built irl lol

He was the one dating their first girlfriend

She didnt know about their DID, both Mike and Vito would rather keep that private

Wants a normal life

Also held down their first job (semi-canon)

He gives a shit but can be emotionally reserved

He doesn’t hate Mal, he just finds him frustrating

A bit of a troublemaker but not out of wanting bad for the system, it’s just the way he is

Creeped out by Mal, thats why he doesn’t like him

Secretly holds grudges but doesn’t tell them unless he’s picking a fight

Kinda a pothead

Chester

Mentally 60s-70s

No specific trauma memories, but he was split from trauma

Has never been the host but he switches in quite often

One of the first alters to have been discovered by their psych

At first the psych thought they were faking just cause of how theatrical Chester was, and how much it annoyed Mal

The psych thought they were faking to get out of juvie

Not to help, Mal said it was a “voice in his head” and would talk to him out loud, not caring who heard

He’s not an introject, but they don’t know why he’s old

He just is who he is

They don’t know why he has a scar over his eye, they presume there’s a trauma reason for it but nobody has any memory of something bad happening to their eye

He feels like he’s a grandfather to Mike, but the feeling’s not reciprocated

Not yet at least

Mike learns to love him

He gets annoyed by Chester still but he finds him more endearing

He likes his hot beverages and pastries

And yelling at the tv

He finds commenting on everything so entertaining

He’s co-con 80% of the time

He finds fronting to be physically exhausting, like it makes him physically feel his age

Has chronic pain in his hips and joints, his psych says it’s phantom pain

He loves his psych, he could go on for hours

He loves little kitty cats! There has never been a cat he couldn’t pet

He wishes he was more welcome when visiting nursing homes, he feels lonely but they don’t like his “portrayal” of an old man

He had gotten kicked out before

Actually, he gets kicked out of places quite often

He has health anxiety and constantly thinks he’s going to fall ill and die

His doctor is so fed up

He believes so many wives tales and basically you can tell him anything and he will believe you (unless he’s in a mood, then he’s just going to shout at you)

Mal

Ambigious early childhood to age 13 host

Mentally shifts between 13 to 17

Persecutor/Protector

Mainly a physical protector, kind of the mind’s back up plan for when things get rough and he needs to protect himself or take action

Holds most of the memory of the physical abuse

Split directly for that reason

He was one of the first

Hates his parents and tries to cause problems as a revenge for all the abuse he endured

Sadistic for this reason

He knew from a very young age that nobody was coming to save him, and they never did

Telling all the trauma he knew about in a court ordered psychiatric evaluation was the main reason he got diagnosed, but he was hoping it was going to put his parents in prison

It didnt

He was originally going to be diagnosed with ASPD before they scrapped that for just a DID diagnosis, mainly because his symptoms were too mixed and inconsistent due to the other alters existing

He still agrees ASPD fits him though and after TDAS he does more specific treatments for it in therapy

They do get diagnosed with ODD though

Basically everyone but Svetlana shows symptoms for it

Mal has it the worst because he has so much pent up hatred from everyone who hurt or failed him

And he only gets the bare minimum when he takes it into his own hands, but its better than nothing

Really clashed with Zoey at first but he was the one to make her understand them more, in his own roundabout way

Actually became close friends with Zoey even if they have their conflicts

Mike

Same age as body

Kinda bigender tbh but he’s not ready for that

Thinks he should be the one to call all the shots because he thinks hes the original

Hes not, there is none

Doesn’t have a lot of childhood memories

Nobody tells him about their trauma

Besides Mal when he’s trying to prove a point

He hates Mal because Mal threatens his sense of control

He overcompensates, being a system scares him so if he’s in charge he will be able to make sure everything’s ok

Just finally coming out of denial, still half in it

He hates being a system

Rude to his alters!!!

After All Stars, he sees his psych again who scolds him

And teaches him to accept his disorder

He does better

He compromises more, he learns that his alters are people too, he adapts to his multiplicity and eventually is the key to achieving functionality between all of them

He struggles to accept Mal, because of his persecutory nature, but he learns why Mal does what he does and with a little work from them both they are able to compromise

Mal has to grow and learn too don’t get me wrong

Svetlana

Same age as body

Transbian

Doesn’t mind being a system tbh

She likes the company

Hosts for short periods but only for upcoming competitions really because its hard for her to pretend to be a singlet

She doesn’t like hiding who she is, she’s way more open about her DID than the others are

She wishes she has more girl friends to talk with but they all know her as mike or mal :(

Total sporty girl she is multi talented in soooo many sports

Gymnastics is her fav obv

Why she has an accent? Who knows? Possibly an introject or maybe shes just like that but as far back as they remember she was there

They are all confused

Has good childhood memories, trauma free

She definitely loved recess and fronted a lot during the school years

Loves making friends, shes very social and kind!!

She’s also the most understanding and gives the best advice

Very emotional and it can be quite theatrical, on par with chester

She’s the one who gets along the most with their parents

Picky eater

She likes to eat clean and hates that the other alters eat meat because she finds it soooo gross

Has her own separate drawer in their dresser for her clothes

Bird lover and has owned pet birds before

Manitoba

Introject, half indiana jones-half steve irwin

Not a fusion he was just made like that

30s-40s

The most recent split

Has a fleshed out part of the interworld including NPCs (like his wife) and spends most of his time there (semi-canon)

He doesn’t prefer to front, he just found total drama fun to compete in

Dreams of traveling the world

Really longs for his innerworld to be real

Tries to keep everyone in line

Wishes they would be less trouble

He doesn’t side with anyone, which makes Mike very angry but he can also see a side to Mal that Mike can’t

He’s the most logical and level headed one

Loves collecting things especially memorabilia from places he’s been

He knows so many animal facts and just general knowledge

It makes Mike feel stupid cause he doesn’t know all that but its in his brain, it confused him how that works still

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: "Not Letting Go" – Part 13

You woke up to the soft glow of early morning light filtering through the curtains, but the warmth you expected beside you was gone.

For a moment, you stayed still, staring at the ceiling as the weight of last night settled over you like a heavy blanket. The memory of Marshall’s kiss—slow, deliberate, real—lingered on your lips, leaving you caught between something that felt like hope and something that felt like fear.

You had let him in again, let yourself fall into old patterns, let your heart lean toward him the way it always had. But the rational part of your brain—the part that had filed for divorce, the part that had spent so many nights feeling abandoned—was screaming at you not to let this be another cycle of heartbreak.

With a deep breath, you forced yourself to sit up, running a hand through your hair as you tried to shake off the storm of emotions.

The house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the floorboards downstairs. You could hear the faint murmur of voices—Alaina and Hailie, probably—already up and moving.

You debated staying in bed a little longer, avoiding whatever came next, but before you could make a decision, a knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts.

“Hey.”

Marshall’s voice, rough with sleep but softer than you were used to.

You swallowed, glancing toward the door as it cracked open slightly. He stood there in sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair a mess, looking uncertain for the first time in a long time.

“You awake?” he asked.

You nodded, shifting to sit up fully. “Yeah.”

For a second, neither of you spoke.

Then Marshall exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wasn’t sure if I should act normal or if you were gonna pretend last night didn’t happen.”

You sighed, your fingers curling around the edge of the blanket. “I’m not pretending it didn’t happen.”

His eyes flickered with something unreadable. “Then what’s going on?”

You hesitated. “I just… I don’t know how to do this, Marshall. I don’t know how to go from divorce to this overnight.”

Marshall nodded, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. “I get it,” he said. “I do. And I’m not expecting you to just flip a switch and pretend like none of the bad shit ever happened.”

He moved closer, standing at the edge of the bed. “But I meant what I said. I’m fighting for you. For us. And if that means taking this slow, proving myself every damn day, I’ll do it.”

You searched his face, looking for any sign of hesitation. But there wasn’t any. Just quiet determination.

“…Okay,” you said softly.

Marshall’s brows lifted slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to agree so easily. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “But we do it right this time.”

His lips twitched into a smirk. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The rest of the morning was a quiet sort of normal—the kind you hadn’t realized you missed until now.

By the time you made it downstairs, Alaina and Hailie were already at the table, eating breakfast and scrolling through their phones. Marshall was at the counter, pouring himself a cup of coffee, looking oddly domestic in the morning light.

You hesitated in the doorway, suddenly feeling like an outsider in your own home. But then Marshall glanced up, caught your eye, and smirked like nothing was different.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

Alaina looked up from her phone, raising a brow. “Whoa. She actually slept in? That never happens.”

You rolled your eyes, walking over to the coffee pot. “It’s called being tired, Lai.”

Hailie smirked. “Or maybe it’s called ‘staying up late with Dad.’”

You nearly choked on air. “Excuse me?”

Marshall let out a quiet chuckle behind his coffee mug. “Alright, that’s enough outta you two.”

Alaina grinned. “Hey, we’re just saying—it’s nice seeing you guys like this. It’s been a while.”

You swallowed, glancing at Marshall, who was watching you with something unreadable in his expression.

It had been a while.

But you weren’t ready to label this as anything yet—not in front of the girls, not when everything still felt so fragile.

Instead of responding, you focused on pouring your coffee, pretending your hands weren’t slightly shaking.

The rest of the day felt like a dance—a slow, careful movement around each other, neither of you wanting to push too hard or too fast.

Marshall was there, close but not overwhelming, watching you in that quiet, observant way of his. And you were hyper-aware of him, of the way his presence filled the house in a way you hadn’t realized you missed until now.

It wasn’t until later that evening, after dinner, that the tension between you both finally cracked.

You were cleaning up, rinsing dishes at the sink, when Marshall stepped up beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him.

You tried to ignore it, but then his fingers brushed against yours as he handed you a plate, and it was like a spark shot straight through you.

You froze. So did he.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you shifting into something charged, something unspoken.

Slowly, you turned to face him, your heart hammering against your ribs.

Marshall was already watching you, his blue eyes dark and unreadable. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured.

You swallowed hard, but the words never came.

Instead, you watched as he reached out, his fingers curling around your wrist, his touch warm and familiar. He stepped in closer, his breath ghosting over your lips, and just when you thought he might pull away—

He kissed you.

Soft at first, like he was waiting for you to push him away. But you didn’t.

Instead, you melted into him, your hands gripping the front of his hoodie as he deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go.

And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want him to.

[margle]

thinking about the parallels between cricket's arc with dee and the waitress's arc with charlie. and how they mimic the interesting ways iasip both follows and breaks sitcom traditions.

s16 demonstrates these parallels and differences with the bowling episode vs the gang gets cursed. the waitress and cricket are both now narratively removed from the people who catapulted them into the gang's radius of destructive behaviour.

the difference lies in how the characters have changed: cricket has only gotten more cartoonish and more entrenched into the sitcom formula of flanderisation. whereas the waitress has gotten more unpredictable. a crucial part of her characterisation is how she is a changing character: she has periods where she is doing well or really badly. but in the most recent season she seems to break away from the sitcom formula even more. her will-they-wont-they and stalker/victim arc with charlie kinda fizzled out in s12/13 when charlie actually banged the waitress. in sitcom tradition, this arc would have kept going until the show ended (like it was sort of meant to in s12).

but since then, her character has had a more vague purpose with the gang (in the same way cricket is no longer tied to any specific character). in s15, her plot's were nearly all related to dee instead of charlie: she became dee's foil. (she has had plots with dee in the past obviously but her wider arcs were usually surrounding charlie). in s16 this switch seemed to be finalised. in the gang goes bowling, charlie attempts to distract the waitress but neither character is fully into it. he is distracted and uninterested. it seems like the show is satirising the sitcom never-ending will-they-wont-they tradition. instead of sparking a new cycle of obsession from charlie, he runs off to play games.

cricket was tied with mac in s16. but his relationship with mac seemed purely to move the plot forward. he is still a sitcom-y character that is governed by the show's non-serialised format. he turns up for comedic value or an episode's plot. he doesn't seem to exist outside of the gang (a cricket's tale satirises his lack of a story beyond the gang) and never changes aside from getting more flanderised.

in comparison, there are many ways the waitress ignores sitcom traditions in the show: her appearance and wants changing between seasons, clearly always having a life away from the gang, proving she can move on from two separate long-running tropey romantic arcs (unrequited love with dennis and will-they-wont-they with charlie) instead of having them continue until the show ends, even breaking the long-running joke of no-one ever standing up for dee.

although they are both trapped in cycles, the waitress seems to be the opposite of the gang's and cricket's stagnancy.

[goldom]

Ave Mujica ep 12

How can there only be two left? With the massive popularity of this show among non-prior-Bandori fans, I have to imagine they're going to get another season eventually, but I wonder how much of this plot is going to be left for the game to cover. At the pace the En server is going, it's gonna be a looooong time before I see that happen...

Anyway, heading in with the following thought in mind. Thanks a lot, @keichocomint

0:16 Sakiko basically turning to the camera to remind the audience,

0:33 On one hand, lol. On the other, I think this says something about the way Sakiko still views her life as a drama, a play. But I also have to wonder why she's so docilely going along with this when she's, A) had no problem standing up to grandpa before, and B) just came off of reasserting her intent to stay with the band.

1:13 okay nevermind she's not going.

1:30 splat.

I shouldn't laugh but I did. How did her shoe get all the way up there?!

1:50 welp, episode's over! What a bold, avant-garde choice to switch the series to a 2-minute short 12 episodes in.

4:04 how does this random cab driver on Remote Island recognize Sakiko when she hasn't been back in years? Also what a voice lol I half expected him to mutate into a demon or something

5:43 Surprised Hatsune is just admitting everything so quickly. Good for her. But it's really weird to see her just being normal two episodes after listening to her sing about wanting to chain up Sakiko in her attic.

7:50 I'm gonna be annoyed if they're about to reveal there never was an Uika. I know a lot of people are speculating that, but I don't like it. If there being sisters had been a plot thread all along, maybe, but not when they just revealed her 11 episodes in.

10:47 It's really a mark of great writing that I can see this line and know it's about to break Hatsune – and it immediately does.

10:54 and then in a matter of seconds, Saki's voice switches into genki mode. Historically, that has always been a facade. Will this time be any different?

11:55 She reaaaally ought to know better than to say things like this to Hatsune by this point.

12:40 what is this reminding me of. There's a famous anime scene just like this, isn't there? I can't think of it.

13:36 I feel you can see in her eyes, in this moment, the thought, "Right now, I really could steal her away and take her captive forever..."

14:38 I don't know why grandpa has any power over Hatsune at all. He's never given her anything, so why does she struggle so much to resist his orders? Just a general cultural "obey your father" sense maybe. Orrrrr does he know the actual dark secret and is holding it over her? Is there still an actual dark secret left to reveal? I'm not really sure.

15:28 This episode is playing with time of day really blatantly. I saw it before and was willing to overlook it, but now I'm sure. Between 8:35 and 8:39 the sun instantly sets upon Hatsune revealing how she got Saki's dad in trouble.

And now again, they sneak into the Togawa mansion in the middle of the night, but the instant they stand up to the man and walk back outside, it's broad daylight.

The thematic meaning is obvious, but it's almost so over-the-top as to make me start questioning the reality of what I'm seeing.

15:50 He's just a little guy!

16:52 They forgot Umiri ;_;

But also… look at these girls? They look to have suddenly de-aged by years. Combined with how they were just acting like playful little kids in the garden, I have to assume that's intentional as well. With the shadows of their past exposed, it's like they're free to be children again.

17:02 Oh, they don't have outlines in this scene. That's why they look so soft.

17:07 I'm just glad I don't read online discourse because it's gonna be insufferable on both sides for months. It's a really complicated situation – and absurd in a way only possible in fiction – so yknow what, I don't hate this, but at the same time, it's like, reality's gonna come crashing back in soon.

17:40 And Hatsune admitting the dreamlike quality of everything. She knows this moment can't last. It's the healthiest she's ever been. And I can't hate her for wanting it. I get it. If you've read my fiction, you know I get it, it's all expressing the same thing: please, just let this peace last a little longer.

17:44 It did not last long. Sakiko already waking up to the realization that Hatsune's little domestic dream life isn't what she wants. God this show is good.

18:20 I love Umiri so much

20:25 Morf spotted!

21:08 FGGGFHSRFHGHHHH I just let out the loudest cackle Saki what the hellllllllllllllllllllllllll

21:58 "WHO DO YOU THINK I AM?" Sakiiiiiiii

I am having so much fun with this show. Hate that it's already coming to an end. And unsurprisingly, next week looks like it'll mostly be a performance. Perhaps this is the best way things can go, leading back into the game: everybody's plot arcs have resolved, but their underlying issues are still lingering, leading to opportunities for further progress. I've never read ahead of the English game (in any game) but I might have to for AveMu if we won't be seeing them over here for years.

But, so, where's the real Uika? During the whole time on the island, Sakiko never went "wtf are you talking about, you don't have a sister." And she correctly identified the moment it was Hatsune that came to her. This all still feels fully in line with a real Uika actually being alive somewhere. ("They moved to the mainland," said the cab driver.)

But at the end, when Saki calls Hatsune Uika again, it feels like she's saying, "Even knowing your origin, I accept you for the person you want to be seen as," which only works if HatsUika was one body all along, not if there's still a real person out there with a stolen identity.

Who knows. Well, one of you probably does. Lately every confusion I've had has been clarified by someone in the comments within 10 minutes of posting lol.

[callmearcturus]

i got a good chunk of writing done today, have a preview

Ted was in his back garden, heaving the bags of potting soil into a stack under the window. Once it was three-high, he stepped up onto it, hands held out for balance. It brought his shoulders level with the sill, and he looked up-- "Shit!" Clapping a hand over his chest, he breathed out. "You scared me there, geez."

"What," Trent asked slowly, folding his arms and leaning through the open window, "are you doing?"

"Well, I am standing on these bags of soil 'cause Ms. Crimm explained no one was allowed into the inner sancta sanctorum until the book was done and dusted." His hand curled around the edge of the window, gripping for balance. "And I didn't want to break any rules and get... say, what's she goin' by right now?"

"She's between names," Trent said. "Just Adelaide will do for the time being."

"Gotcha. Didn't want to get Adelaide in hot water, so." He beamed up at Trent. "Here I am."

"Here you are. Distracting me from the looming guillotine of my deadline, which is..." He checked his watch. "7 days and 13 hours away."

Ted had the decency to wince, looking contrite. "I hear ya, but I wanted to circle back to you vis-a-vis that pause button we been holding pressed. You were right to do it, Trent, and I'm glad you stuck to that, even though the waitin' was a torture the Marquis de Sade himself would've balked at. But it gave me time to..." He waggled his fingers at his own head. "Do some percolatin' up here."

Raising his eyebrows, Trent pointed out, "I believe on these islands, you may say it gave you time to steep."

"You may say it, but I sure as heck won't. Look, point is..." The broad expanse of his hand settled on Trent's wrist, warmer than the sunshine. "I want to apologize for being weird before and to explain why and then maybe try to make things right if you're amenable."

It was a unique perspective, to look down into those eyes. From this vantage, all of the amber layers that made the dark brown illuminated, like dark water cut through with daylight.

Easing further out across the sill, Trent was oddly pleased to watch Ted match him, leaning back on his heels. His teeth peaked out as he smiled, seeming just as intrigued by the switch in their relative positions.

It did remind him starkly of that night in the office, the time Ted had tried to explain himself and Trent had resisted the urge to throw something at his head.

He barely had to reach to tuck two fingers under Ted's chin, feeling the firm bone and the tender skin just beyond. When he'd done this with his glasses, he hadn't been privy to the faint prickle of stubble or the softness of Ted's neck.

"Um." Ted swallowed; Trent could feel the way his muscles moved. "I did have more I intended to say."

"And I look forward to hearing it," Trent told him quietly. Just to see for himself what would happen, he tipped Ted's head back further. It was well worth indulging his curiosity; the way Ted's eyes lidded, slivered black pupil trained on Trent's face was lovely. "However: I am a week and change away from deadline, emphasis on the dead, and you," Trent shifted his hand to hold Ted's face, fingers pressing into the man's cheeks and making his lips pucker like when Addy was a toddler and tasted anything sour. "You cannot be here! You cannot be here like this is some dreadful 90s comedy and you're trying to climb in through the window of some mousy Molly Ringwald archetype."

"Surprised you went for that and not the obvious Shakespeare reference," Ted said, muffled a bit by Trent's hold on him.

"There are differences between us, but I don't think Englishman and Yank are analogous to Montague and Capulet." With a loud scoff, Trent let go, getting some distance from this ridiculous man. "I have dozens of requests from the fact checker, you have to go away."

"I know y'all use 'yank' as a sort of umbrella term over here, but you've gotta be careful who you call that. You'd be askin' for a red tide to fall upon you with great violence."

"I don't know that reference and I don't care," Trent told him. "Theodore. Go. Away."

Even though Trent had put as much stern force as he could into the command, something about it made Ted's whole expression brighten. "Well, alright. A week and change, you said?"

"Yes." And Trent flicked his hand at him, like shooing away a moth.

Lightning quick, Ted caught that hand. His thumb ran softly over the knuckles. "'Til then, Trent Crimm. We ain't done." And he drew his captured prize down to press his mouth to the knuckles.

Trent allowed it for a moment, mostly because he was more stunned than anything.

Then he gave Ted a swat upside the head and retreated back to his desk. This absurdity needed to wait; he had far too much work left to do.