#and it's much better for both the individual and the world

[gunsatthaphan]

Desperately trying to fill the THK-shaped hole in my heart - as a fellow connoisseur of FK, were there any particular scenes or moments in THK that stood out to you/you loved the most/you've re-watched the most (I know you don't like picking favourites so I'm trying to phrase it differently!)? Both for them as individual actors and as a pairing?

hi anon!

the THK-shaped hole is gaping and it still hurts 😭 I miss them sm.

but I'm glad you asked lol.

As far as KaBi scenes go, the ones that come to mind that altered my brain chemistry are the swing scene in ep10 and the aurora scene in ep12 as those will forever be engraved into my brain lol. The swing scene because I think it did a phenomenal job showcasing the shift from their faulty/guilt-ridden relationship on Kant's part to the big blowup to them overcoming everything and eventually falling into eo and being 100% devoted to eo and especially FK's ability to micromanage their chemistry throughout the entire narrative according to KaBi's individual underlying emotions blows me away to say the least. Legendary.

The Iceland scene just made me sob altogether lol, them under the lights in their poofy jackets lost in their own world was the purest form of bliss and love and softness and there could not have been a better ending for them 🥺 that scene is everything I could have asked for for them. But those are just 2 of many outstanding scenes because like i said, their chemistry peaked in this show and I could fill books with how insane they still make me feel.

Honorable mentions go to the slightly cringe but endlessly entertaining scenes of "do u like it rough or sth?" in episode 3 (including the clamping and slapping incident) because that was insane and also the dance battle in ep2 which was the perfect blend between ridiculous and epic lmao.

Some Kant solo scenes I appreciated were him as Tonkhao the caddy boy in ep10 aka "I'm willing to change my name, look and profession but I will NOT lie about being gay af" and also him sneaking into Heart Burger in very bad disguise in ep2 and Bison NOT recognizing him, followed by the shenanigans in that stall, 10/10 peak comedy. Needless to say First deserves endless praise for Kant's microexpressions, specifically his transition from playfully flirting to genuinely falling in love and feeling guilty, he did a phenomenal job all around. 14/10 as usual.

Cherished Bison performances include the fireman scene with Fadel in ep4 which showed his duality very nicely, his wish to live a normal life and gradually finding out the truth about Lilly and his parents etc. And then pretty much the entirety of him holding Kant hostage on the beach in ep8, including him eventually breaking down as I consider that Khao's best performance in the show. Exceptional. Outstanding. Show-stopping.

They were all in all outstanding in this, which is not me disregarding or diminishing JoongDunk's performances though because they peaked here as well and I'm very much proud and in awe of all of them 🥺

xxx

[teenagefeeling]

not to sound completely bitchy but i do hope lip fillers go out of style soon. first of all i've always thought it has some really weird racial implications for white women to suddenly be treating big lips like a fashion trend but second of all i genuinely think it just makes people look like they have a medical issue most of the time. also one time when i was little i watched an episode of 1000 ways to die where a woman's breast implant exploded on a plane and tbh my brain just imagines people's lips doing that whenever they have too much filler in

[clearancecreedwatersurvival]

Adding more onto this chain with a few book spoilers but only the kind that improve the recommendation. And tbh wot is complex enough that spoilers absolutely do not ruin the narrative, they enhance it. It’s better and better on every reread when you can pick up the foreshadowing.

If you like BBC Merlin, you should watch Wheel of Time.

See above: hot villainous lady mages

codependent sworn fealty relationships between mages and knights

Magic systems where the main characters who are magic users are basically demigods able to exercise some insane cosmic powers over the fabric of spacetime

arthuriana stuff. Theres two different Arthur characters and like 3/4 Merlin characters and this is very vague book spoilers that have already been hinted at in the show but one of the Merlin characters is also the Guinevere character and they’re great dramatic and political foils

homoerotic bromances #cauthorcanonwhen

Protagonists hounded by prophecy

Magic battles. Oh my god. Just trust me on this, prime released a preview scene from season three, the magic fight scenes pop the fuck off in season three.

And also as as @twicetolivetwicetodie pointed out previously, if you like Critical Role or dnd in general you should watch the wheel of time.

The main ensemble are basically a chaotic dnd party prone to engaging in absurd near-slapstick comedy shenanigans in a magical post apocalyptic feudal fantasy setting whose job it is to save the world at the Last Battle between the forces of the Light and the Shadow. The first book is basically a lord of the rings fellowship fanfiction. Here’s the main party rundown.

Rand: what if a paladin was also a level 20 mage with no control by birthright? And also his innate magic is slowly driving him insane because of a magical cataclysm 3000 years ago. And he’s King Arthur and a Christ figure and the reincarnation of magical Eve (see magic cataclysm 3000 years ago)

Nynaeve: this healer can will and probably already has kicked your ass. Incredibly stubborn, mad as hell, usually right.

Egwene: wizard and also resident badass. Has killed before, will kill again. Egwene has done nothing wrong ever in her entire life.

Elayne: this future monarch is an artificer!

All four of the above are so innately magical that they’re basically walking nukes. The magic users in wot are elemental benders who are channeling the fundamental power that creates the fabric of reality, the woven pattern of an age threaded with the lives of individuals. And it both feels wonderfully addictively good to channel, and if you channel too much of the One Power you die!

Lan: uncrowned king of a lost kingdom who already maxed out fighter levels and keeps on taking more levels in adjacent classes

Mat: what if a rogue had world breaking levels of luck and the memories of dead generals in his head. Token funnyguy.

Perrin: this blacksmith can talk to wolves (it gives him magic dream powers)

Moiraine: this magical mentor/gandalf figure is a Demi-immortal spymaster milf. And she’s in a secret lesbian marriage with the wizard pope.

Do you like the lord of the rings? You should watch the wheel of time.

Do you like arthuriana? You should watch the wheel of time.

Do you like the locked tomb? You should watch the wheel of time.

Do you like dune? You should watch the wheel of time.

Do you like GOT/HOTD? You should watch the wheel of time.

Do you like the expanse? You should watch the wheel of time.

Do you like complex science fantasy worldbuilding, showstopping villains, weird cultural mishmash religious allegories, codependent knight/mage relationships, geopolitical dramas, homoeroticism, polyamory, and again I can never stress this one enough, femdom stuff?

You guessed it!

You should watch The Wheel Of Time!!!!

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than games crashing

Speaking of devs not doing their FUCKING JOBS RIGHT, I played Ultrakill again today and tried to P-rank 5-2 again, because I had forgotten just how bad the lag was. It's very bad. Very very bad. So bad that it made me go play P-1 instead and I actually managed to P-rank that one. So basically, the Ferryman is canonically more powerful than Minos Prime.

[fozmeadows]

there is no ethical consumption under capitalism

Years ago now, I remember seeing the rape prevention advice so frequently given to young women - things like dressing sensibly, not going out late, never being alone, always watching your drink - reframed as meaning, essentially, "make sure he rapes the other girl." This struck a powerful chord with me, because it cuts right to the heart of the matter: that telling someone how to lower their own chances of victimhood doesn't stop perpetrators from existing. Instead, it treats the existence of perpetrators as a foregone conclusion, such that the only thing anyone can do is try, by their own actions, to be a less appealing or more difficult victim.

And the thing is, ever since the assassination of United Healthcare CEO Brian Thompson, I've kept on thinking about how, in this day and age, CEOs of big companies often have an equal or greater impact on the day to day lives of regular people than our elected officials, and yet we have almost no legal way to redress any grievances against them - even when their actions, as in the case of Thompson's stewardship of UHC, arguably see them perpetrating manslaughter at scale through tactics like claims denial. That this is a real, recurring thing that happens makes the American healthcare insurance industry a particularly pernicious example, but it's far from being the only one. Because the original premise of the free market - the idea that we effectively "vote" for or against businesses with our dollars, thereby causing them to sink or swim on their individual merits - is utterly broken, and has been for decades, assuming it was ever true at all. In this age of megacorporations and global supply chains, the vast majority of people are dependent on corporations for necessities such as gas, electricity, internet access, water, food, housing and medical care, which means the consumer base is, to all intents and purposes, a captive market. We might not have to buy a specific brand, but we have to buy a brand, and as businesses are constantly competing with one another to bring in profits, not just for the company and its workers, but for C-suites and shareholders - profits that increasingly come at the expense of workers and consumers alike - the greediest, most inhumane corporations set the financial yardstick against which all others are then, of necessity, measured. Which means that, while businesses are not obliged to be greedy and inhumane in order to exist, overwhelmingly, they become greedy and humane in order to compete, because capitalism encourages it, and because there are precious few legal restrictions to stop them from doing so. At the same time, a handful of megacorporations own so many market-dominating brands that, without both significant personal wealth and the time and resources to find viable alternatives, it's all but impossible to avoid them, while the ubiquity of the global supply chain means that, even if you can keep track of which company owns which brand, it's much, much harder to establish which suppliers provide the components that are used in the products bearing their labels. Consider, for instance, how many mainstream American brands are functionally run on sweatshop labour in other parts of the world: places where these big corporations have outsourced their workforce to skirt the already minimal labour and wage protections they'd be obliged to adhere to in the US, all to produce (say) electronics whose elevated sticker price passes a profit on to the company, but without resulting in higher wages for either the sweatshop workers overseas or the American employees selling the products in branded US stores.

When basically every major electronics corporation is engaged in similar business practices, there is no "vote" our money can bring that causes the industry itself to be better regulated - and as wealthy, powerful lobbyists from these industries continue to pay exorbitant sums of money to politicians to keep government regulation at a minimum, even our actual votes can do little to effect any sort of change. But even in those rare instances where new regulations are passed, for multinational corporations, laws passed in one country overwhelmingly don't prevent them from acting abusively overseas, exploiting more desperate populations and cash-poor governments to the same greedy, inhumane ends. And where the ultimate legal penalty for proven transgressions is, more often than not, a fine - which is to say, a fee; which is to say, an amount which, while astronomical by the standards of regular people, still frequently costs the company less than the profits earned through their unethical practices, and which is paid from corporate coffers rather than the bank accounts of the CEOs who made the decisions - big corporations are, in essence, free to act as badly as they can afford to; which is to say, very. Contrary to the promise of the free market, therefore, we as consumers cannot meaningfully "vote" with our dollars in a way that causes "good" businesses to rise to the top, because everything is too interconnected. Our choices under global capitalism are meaningless, because there is no other system we can financially support that stands in opposition to it, and while there are still small businesses and companies who try to operate ethically, both their comparative smallness and their interdependent reliance on the global supply chain means that, even if we feel better about our choices, we're not exerting any meaningful pressure on the system we're trying to change. Which means that, under the free market, trying to be an ethical consumer is functionally equivalent to a young woman dressing modestly, not going out alone and minding her drink at parties in order to avoid being raped. We're not preventing corporate predation or sending a message to corporate predators: we're just making sure they screw other worker, the other consumer, the other guy.

All of which is to say: while I'd prefer not to live in a world where shooting someone dead in the street is considered a valid means of redressing grievances, what the murder of Brian Thompson has shown is that, if you provide no meaningful recourse for justice against abusive, exploitative members of the 1%, then violence done to those people will have the feel of justice, because it fills the void left by the lack of consequences for their actions. It's the same reason why people had little sympathy for the jackass OceanGate CEO who killed himself in his imploding sub, or anyone whose yacht has been attacked by orcas - it's just intensified here, because where the OceanGate CEO was felled by hubris and the yachts were random casualties, whoever killed Thomspon did so deliberately, because of what he did. It was direct action against a man whose policies very arguably constituted manslaughter at scale; a crime which ought to be a crime, but which has, to date, been permitted under the law. And if the law wouldn't stop him, can anyone be surprised that someone might act outside the law in retaliation - or that regular people would cheer for them when they did?

[inbarfink]

When talking about the distinction between Simon Petrikov and the Ice King,  it’s important to remember that originally, the Crown wasn’t trying to turn Simon into Ice King -

It was trying to turn him into this guy.

At the time, the Ice Crown - or rather the Wishing Crown - was programmed with Gunther’s wish to become Evergreen. So everything related to making the current wearer like Evergreen is a very direct result of the Crown’s Magic. The physical changes -

And the obsession with the name ‘Gunther’ -

And maybe some of the irritability and anger issues -

That is something the Crown is very directly forcing unto its current wielder. 

But everything else?

Ice King, personality-wise, was not much like Evergreen at all, or even like Gunther's view of him. And Ice Finn of the Farmworld Universe was also pretty different from the both of them.

At the time, I remember people assumed Ice Finn’s behavior is more indicative of what the Crown is actually trying to do with its wielders. That Ice King is so different because of Simon’s subconscious resistance against the Crown - while Finn’s much younger and dumber brain is a lot susceptible to the Curse’s influence to become some sort of mad world-conquering emperor of ice and snow. 

But, with the context of the Crown’s actual backstory. That doesn’t seem very likely anymore. I think what’s actually happening there is that the Crown is just trying to make its wielder an Ice Wizard on par with Evergreen (who was the Actual Goddam Ice Elemental) and that means pumping the wielder’s brain so full of Magic, Madness and Sadness to a level that is bound to overwhelm anyone.

And Simon’s and Farmworld Finn’s very different behaviors after putting on the crown is indicative, more than anything, of how their psyche reacts to Madness and Sadness in general. You know, Finn has a very proactive and kinda aggressive personality - and you add Crown-induced-Madness-and-Sadness and a compulsion to use Ice Magic as much as possible and you get all of…. this 

Meanwhile, for Simon, the compulsions of the Crown originally filtered exclusively via the language of protection 

As his madness always manifested as romantic obsession 

And using goofy humor to try and deny the pain he’s going through 

Because that’s how Simon’s mind specifically reacts to being flooded with so much Madness and Sadness.

That’s why there’s so many parallels between Ice King and the sort of mistakes and screwed-up stuff Simon does right now! He’s even kidnapping people again!

Because the Madness and Sadness of Ice King might’ve been induced by the Crown, but now Simon has plenty of personal home-grown Madness and Sadness inside him - and it’s no surprise that Curse-Induced or not, his mind reacts to it in a sorta-similar way. (Although obviously not as intensely, again, there was a LOT of MMS in the Ice Crown).

Now as for Ice Thing, and the fact that he seems to be actually rather well-adjusted under effects of his version of the Wishing Crown. I mean... not by the time of the 1000+ Era, but that’s literally eons in the future and also maybe more Gibbon’s fault. Even if the Crown will eventually take some sort of toll on him, for now he seems to be doing pretty well considering his wish. I mean, there's still some sort of Loss of Identity stuff going on

But everything we've seen of Ice Thing (in the present day, at least) shows him as a friendly and cheerful individual that gets along well with others. A far cry from how maladjusted every single wielder of the Ice Crown acted.

At the very least, if there's any notable amount of Sadness in him, we really haven't seen it yet.

There might be several factors here:

First things first, I should acknowledge the possibility that it’s just that Orgalorg’s eldritch brain is better at intaking all that MMS juice. That could play a part, but I think it’s probably more important, at least thematically, to look at the distinction between ‘I wish to be Evergreen’ and ‘I wish to be Ice King’. 

First in the sense that while Ice King was occasionally mean to Gunter at times - he was generally much kinder than Evergreen ever was for ‘his’ Gunther. So, like, pretty much the one Personality Flaw of Ice King that you can directly link to the Ice Crown’s attempt to mimic Evergreen is the occasional anger issues.

And how they relate to Gunther’s view of Evergreen, so grumpy and controlling and constantly saying ‘NO!’

(Both Finn and Simon’s demonstrable not-crown-induced trauma responses can make them pretty short-tempered as well. So I’m not going to say this is purely the effects of the Crown. It still probably plays some sort of factor at why the wielder of the Ice Crown is Like That).

And that is not a factor in how Gunter views Ice King. For him, Ice King was a doting and loving father figure - so if the Crown was ever trying to implement any sort of specific negative personality traits, this is absolutely no longer a factor. Because the original Ice Crown was a reflection of Evergreen’s abuse, and now Ice Thing is a reflection of Ice King’s fatherly love.

Which is, itself, probably an echo or remnant of Simon’s own strong parental instincts. 

Secondly, while the Crown was trying to make the Ice King just as powerful as Evergreen…. Ice King was obviously not as powerful as Evergreen. Because he was already a second-rate copy of the Ice Elemental’s power, and because Ice King was often just too doofy to use his powers correctly and probably because some remnant of Simon’s original sensible self is subconsciously holding his powers back.

Either way, being ‘like Ice King’ as Gunter sees him requires less Magic than being ‘like Evergreen’ as Gunther saw him - and therefore less Madness and Sadness. Leading to the wearer or, um, the eater being a lot more well-adjusted from the get-go.

And I think that the implication that Ice Thing has fused with the Crown, so there's never going to be another poor sap who puts on the Crown and gets Ice King'd. But if there is one somehow... at least the process is going to be less mentally detrimental that time around?

Maybe one day Simon could look back and appreciate how much he (or Ice King, or both of them, or however you want to look at the situation) is responsible for basically neutralizing the Crown that ruined his life in the first place.

[elsaclack]

Yeah okay so like I said in the tags of the last post I’m rising from my tumblr grave to say that the ban on TikTok is symptomatic of a MUCH larger and more terrifying problem. Because yes, on its surface it’s silly dances and asmr and cooking videos and whatever, but in truth and at its core, TikTok single-handedly revolutionized the way 170 million Americans communicated with each other AND the rest of the world. Non-Americans love to point out how America-centric Americans are, but fail to realize that we are purposefully raised in an isolated, insulated environment where we are told from basically day 1 that America Is The Best and not to even bother taking a look around because it’s all downhill from outside of here. TikTok has, for MANY Americans, single-handedly destroyed that notion and allowed them (us!!) to broaden our world-view and realize that actually, things are better in other countries, and it did so in a kind, empathetic, and compassionate way.

And yeah most people wake up to the truth of that on their own as they get older, but holy shit!! The VAST majority of the Americans on TikTok are millennials and gen z (and even some older gen alpha)!! People who are becoming disillusioned with “The American Dream” (said with the HEAVIEST sarcasm) while they’re still school-aged or are just entering young-adulthood!! People who are entering - or TRYING to enter - the American workforce who suddenly have an unfiltered window into non-American lives and are wondering why tf we’re struggling and penny-pinching and toeing the line of poverty while our rich elected officials sit around and fight and argue over everything that actually matters to the citizens they supposedly represent and get richer all the while. THAT is why they’re banning the app, and that fact alone should terrify every single American citizen.

Not to mention the precedent it sets for other social media platforms!! You think some nebulous, unproven, and unfounded “threat to national security” will stop with TikTok?? They’ve already censored Adult Material on tumblr, who’s gonna stop them from coming back and doing it again or getting rid of it altogether for the exact same reason? It’s a blatant act of censorship and a direct attack on the American first amendment right to free speech.

NOTHING radicalized me the way tiktok did. I watched people in my life who were STAUNCH Trump supporters in 2016 AND 2020 wake up to the truth and vote blue for the first time in their lives BECAUSE OF TIKTOK, and did so with al the nuanced understanding that even Democrats are severely failing this country, but are at least better than the alternative. That level of awareness and presence in the average US citizen scares American politicians.

The fact that the vast majority of them - including the ones loudly opposing the ban!! - bought stock in Meta BEFORE the ban was legalized/upheld by the Supreme Court?? That Mark Zuckerberg and Elon Musk were legally allowed to lobby congress to ban TikTok when BOTH stood to DIRECTLY financially gain from their biggest competitor being banned in the US and are guilty of unethically gathering data and selling it to MULTIPLE third parties?? The fact that Trump is now teasing that he may or may not intervene to save TikTok when he was the one who talked about banning it in the first place AND ALSO OWNS HIS OWN COMPETING SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORM??

It’s the burning of Alexandria. It’s the loss of a significant chunk of culture. It’s the sharp and sudden loss of contact with the rest of the world for more than half of all American citizens. It’s the loss of $240 BILLION dollars in the GDP when the country is already TRILLIONS of dollars in debt. And on an individualistic level, it’s the loss of millions of small businesses and primary income streams for so many individuals and families who found their primary audience on TikTok. Is the app perfect? HELL no. Are there significant changes needed to make it a safe environment for all users? ABSOLUTELY. But that can also be said of ANY social media platform. TikTok openly fostered connection and communication and creativity and compassion that is completely unique to that platform! It made so many people - myself included!! - feel less alone. I get the feeling I know what the general consensus is about TikTok on this site, but the ban on this app should scare the shit out of everyone.

[logicpng]

so, i have some thoughts. i feel like the game doesn't explore doey much, so i'm gonna take that as an opportunity to stretch him a lil.

in short, i see him as neither one whole nor 3 kids in a trench coat, but something in the middle of the two: a grown up who never really got to experience a proper childhood, the 3 originals in a blend with each other.

the time between creation and game events likely is enough for them to learn how to cooperate (up until. yknow). collectively or individually though, goddamn they need therapy

[ Description in ALT, text transcribed under cut ]

1st image:

point at head with teeth peeking: teeth may show more subtly, particularly when mischevious

point at hat: hat always at an angle

point at hand: stubby hands omg <3

point at neck: neck constantly bent in some fashion

Generally friendly and curious, may be more closed off and bitter if kevin is more dominant.

Collectively an adult due to passage of time and gaining experience, but still retains some more childish traits due to isolation from outside world and trauma, both collective and individual (holy shit do they need therapy).

Parts operate more or less seamlessly, but depending on situation some may show more or less of their traits.

When stressed, cooperation between parts may break down.

2nd image:

Kevin

present strongest when angry, most of anger processing goes through him.

not actually angry/cranky all of the time though, just a bit more gruff/edgy compared to the other two. tends to show teeth when talking.

over the years learned to control his rage better, can redirect it into being a bit of a troll w/ the others

understandably, safe haven's destruction made him revert and lose all restraint, resulting in lashing out, mixed with extreme emotions from others.

Jack

loved doey strongest before conversion (rip), as such expressions tend to default to his

learned to cope with constantly fighting for survival by cracking jokes and being more optimistic

present strongest when happy, may speak more childishly when in distress or comfortable

reverts into reliving trauma of death and family loss with safe haven's destruction

Matt

present strongest when focused on the leader role, strikes a balance between kevin and jack

through time learned to focus more on necessary action rather than allowing to succumb to past guilt

definitely still very stressed out from responsibility, especially after poppy leaving, learned not to show it through cooperation with kevin and jack

safe haven's destruction just plunges him straight into a guilt spiral

Note pointing at bottom notes for each: safe haven's destruction is a massively traumatic event for them, resulting in the three regressing into child selves from distress, mixed in with emotions from individual traumatic memories

[8housevenus]

placements that symbolize intelligence

gemini rising / virgo rising - both are ruled by mercury, these people think fast and logically. rational in thought and retains information much better than those around them. gemini rising will be able to compartmentalize and virgo risings will be able to use their gift of detail to help them remember.

mercury in 3rd/6th/10th - 3rd house mercury exchanges and learns very fast, they are open to lots of conversations and they take away a lot of lessons from them. 6th house mercury listens and picks up any underlying information that can help them in the long run. 10th house mercury has an awareness for their image and understands gravity of their words than most people- giving them the upperhand when on the spot.

uranus in 8th/11th - 8th house uranus is somebody who’s mind goes to places where the majority don’t, there is an innovative personality and a purpose of transformation to humanity, they can really turn pain into a tool. 11th house uranus conceptualizes and understands what needs to be done to an environment or a mass, they are gifted with ideas that can take everybody very far including themselves. both like doing deep dives on themselves and the rest of the world to figure out what advances it takes to change.

saturn in 1st/9th - 1st house saturn gives someone the appearance of knowing everything. these people speak as if they have lived 100 lives before and can go through life very “nonchalantly” because every life lesson they have learned has taught them to be non-reactant instead of impulsive. their demeanor is trustable and respectable, their resilient attitude makes them reliable and smart to the world. 9th house saturn creates an individual who can see things for what they are. these are realists at heart and they need reasoning before jumping to conclusions. they take a while to get answers, but once they figure it out they seal any doubts.

saturn conjunct mercury - their brains work overtime to connect their ideas to reality.

uranus trine/sextile mercury - unique ways of conversations or adding significant details to very light conversations, intriguing and brings insights to those around them.

saturn trine/sextile/conjunct ascendant/midheaven - gets told they’re a secret genius or appears extremely mature. credible and usually as they get older they are recognized for their intellect.

[cece693]

May I pretty please request Hannigram with an SO that really likes biting things? Like they’ll just nibble on anything available, including themself or Hanni/Will

male reader if possible :)

Bite Me, Darling

pairing: hannibal lecter and will graham x male reader tags: self soothing mechanism, male reader bites things, Alana bashing, jack Crawford bashing, just everyone in general is against this relationship, innocent male reader, hannibal and will want to keep him this way

It was strange, how everything about him was normal on the surface but wildly unique beneath. The way he moved through life, unaware of the way people stared, was something that only a few people truly understood. Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter, for all their intelligence and their capacity for manipulation, had each found something in him—something pure and raw—that spoke to them in ways they couldn’t articulate.

You were innocent in the most innocent way. You didn’t know how to read people’s intentions, how to navigate the murky waters of deceit and pain that others swam in. You were a creature of quiet habits: chewing on pens, biting the corner of your sleeves, even nibbling your fingers. It wasn’t that you was anxious, but rather that this was your way of processing the world. You didn’t speak much, but when you did, it was with a tenderness that could disarm even the most hardened individuals.

For some, this made you seem almost too innocent for the likes of Will and Hannibal. They were two men who dealt with darkness constantly, who played in shadows. Hannibal, the brilliant psychiatrist with an appetite for blood, had found himself intrigued long before anything happened between them. How did such a pure soul even come to be? How was it that someone as complex as Hannibal could be pulled into a world where biting things wasn’t just a habit—it was part of who you were?

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Hannibal was nothing if not a man who craved complexity, and you, with your simple yet peculiar habit of biting, had an allure that he could never fully comprehend. He wasn’t sure when the lines had blurred, when you had shifted from being someone he wanted to understand to someone he wanted to possess.

Will, on the other hand, was less of a mystery. He found your unspoken understanding of him soothing. Will was not a man who found comfort easily. He’d had too many years of running from his own mind, of balancing between the need for human connection and the heavy weight of his empathic gifts. But you were different. You never demanded anything from him. There was no need to over explain; no fear of rejection. You were there, and that was enough.

The three of them had fallen into a relationship that no one, especially not Alana Bloom or Jack Crawford, could understand. Jack, upset that you had a greater control over his 'asset' perceived you as a problem that needed to be extinguished immediately. While he couldn't force Will to break up with you, he began to use manipulative language more frequently, hinting that his absence was endangering the lives of people. But after a while, his words began to lose power.

"Will, you can’t just leave because he told you to," Jack would say, his voice thick with frustration. "We need you to solve this case. You're part of this team." But Will, unmoved, always told him he was tired and needed a break—as if killers would respect that and stop murdering until he felt better. Jack would then begin to retort how soft Will was becoming, as if that ever mattered when others perceived him as a madman.

Alana, on the other hand, was driven by something more personal. Jealousy. She had been drawn to both Hannibal and Will. Her feelings for them had never been simple or easy, but she had always harbored a belief that somehow, one day, they would choose her. Instead, they had chosen you. The idea of you, with your gentle biting habit, managing to capture the attention of both men—of all people—was enough to make her skin crawl with resentment. How could someone so abnormal and clearly dealing with childhood trauma have the audacity to step into their world and steal both her love interests?

She couldn’t help but feel that you didn’t deserve them. You weren't like her—you didn’t understand the complexities of their lives nor seemed to be able to handle the hurdles that came with it. And so, she set to work.

It started subtly. A conversation here, a comment there.

“Don’t you ever feel like you’re a little strange?” she would ask, voice light, as if it were a passing thought. “I mean, the biting…it's something you can't help, but don't you ever want to stop it? Be seen as normal for once in your life?"

At first, you had laughed it off, thinking nothing of it. But over time, the seeds of doubt were planted. You began to wonder. Was your habit of biting things wrong? Your lovers had never raised concerns, but it would be something they'll definitely keep private, perhaps a secret only shared between Hannibal and Will. You never thought that Alana's words were connived to break your relationship apart, your naivety something the woman had taken into account and used to her advantage.

So, you tried to stop.

You started small: you tucked your hands into your sleeves when your instincts told you to gnaw at the fabric, and you opted for straws instead of biting the rim of a glass cup. You made an effort—any effort—to keep your teeth away from Will and Hannibal’s skin, no matter how comforting that gentle pressure felt against them. At first, neither man noticed; after all, it was easy to dismiss as a passing mood or an unremarkable change in routine.

But after a couple of days, small signs alerted both of them to the shift. Will began to see you catch yourself mid-motion, your hand halfway to your mouth before you stopped and pressed it flat against your chest instead. Hannibal noticed the anxious flicker in your eyes whenever you realized you were about to bite down on your sleeve—or worse, on him—and yanked yourself away.

It was Will who first chose to address it. One evening, you were curled up in his living room, dogs scattered around you like living blankets. The space was quiet, the only sound the gentle snoring of a dog and the low hum of the overhead light. You were running your thumb over your bottom lip—an almost-bite—when Will finally spoke.

“Hey,” he said softly, “what’s on your mind?”

You hesitated, forcing a small smile. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

He studied you with those empathetic eyes of his. You knew he was reading more into your silence, but Will was nothing if not patient. “You’ve been distant,” he finally ventured, words slow and careful. “I don’t mind if you need space, but if something’s bothering you, I want to help.”

The sincerity in his voice tore at your heart. You wanted to confide in him, to say Alana made me feel wrong, and I don’t want to be wrong for you, but the fear of seeming weak or needy held you back. You simply shook your head and offered a reassuring pat to one of the dogs resting on your lap. “I’m fine,” you lied, hoping he wouldn’t push. “Just tired.”

Hannibal discovered your change in behavior under more intimate circumstances. The two of you were alone in his kitchen, the scent of simmering stock filling the air. He had taken your hand to guide you closer to the cutting board, demonstrating a particular technique for slicing vegetables. Normally, a casual closeness like this was an invitation for you to lean in, maybe press your teeth gently against the back of his hand or the curve of his arm—just enough to ground yourself in his presence. This time, you didn't lean in nor brought his hand to your lips.

Hannibal stilled, eyebrows lifting in polite surprise. “Darling,” he asked softly, “what’s wrong?”

Heat bloomed in your cheeks. You swallowed hard. “Just didn’t want to hurt you,” you offered lamely, though you both knew you had never caused him pain before. His dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully, but he released your hand without comment. You wondered if your face betrayed the unease you felt, because Hannibal’s expression shifted into something gentler, concerned. But he chose not to press you then and there. Instead, he simply carried on, instructing you gently with the knife work and occasionally brushing a reassuring hand across your back.

Though both men tried to give you space, their combined worry spilled over as time went on. Neither was used to seeing you so guarded, especially around them. On a chilly afternoon, the three of you gathered in Hannibal’s study—a routine that had become something of a tradition. Will sipped his whiskey quietly while Hannibal and you browsed through his impressive collection of classical music. There was a soothing air of comfort, and for a brief moment, your doubts dimmed.

But of course, it was Will who noticed your jaw moving—saw the slight shift as your teeth worked the soft flesh inside your cheek. He placed his whiskey glass down on the table with a muted clink before pushing himself out of the chair.

“Stop,” he murmured, crossing the room with purpose. His voice was gentle but firm as he stepped close to you. Without hesitating, he brought his hand to your chin, his touch warm yet insistent. “Open your mouth.”

You stiffened, instinctively pulling away. You shook your head, trying to avert your gaze from Will’s intense blue eyes. You didn’t want to show him. You didn’t want him to see the damage you’d done to keep from biting them instead.

But then, Hannibal appeared at Will’s side, his presence commanding. He didn’t say a word, but the look he gave you—equal parts concern and disappointment—made your shoulders slump in silent surrender. Unable to deny the weight of their worry, you parted your lips, letting Will tilt your chin just enough so both he and Hannibal could peer inside.

A faint gasp escaped Will as he saw the small puncture in your cheek, the fresh bead of crimson welling against your lower molars. Hannibal’s lips flattened into a thin line, and a flicker of displeasure darkened his gaze. In the grand scheme of things, it was a small wound, but it spoke volumes to them—volumes about how you had been coping alone.

Hannibal’s voice was low, edged with concern. “You’ve been hurting yourself to avoid biting us.” It wasn’t a question; it was a quiet statement of fact.

Will let go of your chin carefully. “Why?” he asked, his brows knitting together.

You swallowed thickly, your hand hovering near your mouth in a subconscious attempt to hide the injury you’d just revealed. “Alana said it’s weird. The biting,” you whispered, your voice unsteady. “I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

A stretch of silence followed your confession, Hannibal and Will exchanged a look—a silent conversation filled with understanding and mild anger toward Alana’s interference. Will’s gaze softened as he turned back to you. “We told you before,” he reminded you gently, “you don’t have to hide this from us. You’re not hurting us—”

“—nor inconveniencing us,” Hannibal interrupted, stepping closer again. The resolute calm in his eyes steadied you. “In fact, we’ve grown quite accustomed to it, and dare I say, fond of it. Your habit is part of who you are.”

You glanced down, feeling the sting of tears threatening in your eyes. “I just…I didn’t want you to get sick of me, or to think I was some sort of burden.”

Will’s hand found yours, his fingers threading through with a gentle squeeze. “That’s not possible,” he murmured. “We miss it…miss you being comfortable around us.”

Hannibal placed a hand against your cheek, being mindful of your tender injury. “You never need to hurt yourself on our behalf,” he said, voice quiet but unyielding. “Any pain you feel—physical or otherwise—we’d much rather help you carry it, not watch you bury it inside.”

At those words, a sharp wave of relief pulsed through you, along with an ache of regret for having doubted them. You inhaled shakily, letting yourself lean just a fraction closer to Hannibal’s touch, feeling the stability it offered. Will eased his other hand around your waist, tugging you gently in his direction. Sandwiched between them, you could almost believe nothing else mattered.

“I’m sorry,” you managed, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. “I…I’ll try not to hide it anymore.”

Will’s lips quirked into a small, comforting smile. “No more chewing on your cheek,” he said, voice warm with affection. “You’ll let us help, right?”

With a hesitant nod, you felt Hannibal’s hand slide from your cheek to the back of your head, urging you closer until your forehead rested against his shoulder. He cast a glance at Will, who leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. Despite the swirl of emotions, you felt a gentle calm in their presence—a sense of being anchored.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Miguel w/an Innocent S/O

Warnings: Protective Miguel, Slight Yandere Miguel (if you squint), Implications of Smut, Fluff, More Fluff, Spooning, Mentions/Implications of injuries, Insecurity, No Pronouns used for Reader Except 'You'.

Him being fiercely protective of you 24/7.

If someone even so much as looks at you wrong, he stares them down until they either break down and start apologising, or their heart gives out.

You’re the only person he shows any affection to. You’re also the only person allowed to touch him. Period.

He’s so touch starved; please hold him and tell him he’s your big guy :-(

Goes FERAL when you rake your fingers through his hair; his eyes roll into his skull and he can’t help but moan a little, even if the context isn’t sexual.

Don’t bring it up or he’ll punish you for it later 👀.

He finds your innocence both endearing and worrying.

On one hand, you believe in the good of everyone, which, considering how insecure Miguel can be, is what initially drew him to you; your ability to empathise and sympathise with others, to not judge them.

However, he knows people would take advantage of your kind and giving nature.

One time, he found out that one of the Spiders – a Victorian England era ‘gentleman superhero’ – had tossed you a used coffee cup and told you to dispose of it on his behalf. When you tried to say something, to tell him you were busy and had better things to do, he just dismissed you.

Of course, Miguel had seen this. He has eyes on you every second of the day.

You never saw that Spiderman again. Nor did anyone else. All that seemed to remain of him was his suit thrown haphazardly into the storage room, where a great big tear edged with blood was ripped into the chestpiece, the hero’s signature top hat abandoned and crumpled beneath it.

He also broke another Spider-Person’s arm when they tried to steal one of the fairy cakes you’d lovingly baked for him; poured your heart and soul into.

Miguel also growls at people he thinks are looking at you strangely. Full-on bares his fangs like a rabid dog and watches them cower.

He purposely grows his fangs out and lets you play with them.

He’s careful to make sure you don’t get hurt, though, guiding your hands away from the pointed tips.

His guilty pleasure is when you kiss his fangs and tell him he’s “The coolest, most handsome man in the world!”

“Just the world?” He says, smiling, raising an eyebrow. His heart melts in his chest as your smile widens, eclipsing your eyes into crescents.

“In ALL the worlds!” You say, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him, laughing. He brings his arms, thick and muscular, around your waist and pulls you into him, pressing ticklish kisses into your neck, revelling in your laughter.

Intimacy-wise, Miguel is horrified at the prospect of hurting you.

He’s ever so careful, as if handling glass, holding back his strength.

It’s worth it, though. The strain.

Especially when he hears you mewl and try to hide your face in his chest.

“Oh no, Sweetheart,” he says, tangling a hand in your hair and pulling your head back. His pointed fangs flint as he gives a smile. “I want to watch you like this.”

Loves your gentle kisses – they give him life.

Nothing can get him down when you’re around; especially when you’re sitting in his lap.

Though, issues have arisen as a result of your oblivion to…compromising positions.

More often than not, Miguel’s had to bite his lip and tongue when you shift in his lap, catching him, making his heart start and his breath shutter, electric anticipation jolting through him.

He takes you aside in the bathroom to deal with the issue you’ve unknowingly caused, but you don’t complain. Not that you can with your mouth full.

He looks at you with eyes which have seen the deaths of countless individuals, yet when he finds yours, he sees love and light spanning infinite universes within them. And they give him hope that there is more to life than loss and grief; more to him than his failures.

He revels in the feeling of you hiding behind him whenever you’re scared.

Sometimes he takes you to areas of the facility where he knows you’ll be easily frightened – for example, where captive villains are held – so he can feel your hands tightening around his arm or gripping the back of his suit. It makes him feel useful, like he can take on the world.

And he gets off on being the only person who can truly protect you. But he’d never tell you that, of course.

Loves demonstrating his strength around you. He can pick you up single-handedly and carry you anywhere without so much as thinking of breaking a sweat.

He prefers to be the big spoon, curling around you like a shield and protecting you from the outside world, his warm, broad chest to your back.

Tells you how much he loves you through hushed post-intimacy whispers and soft touches. Shows it through acts of service and the insurmountable adoration that fills his eyes whenever you’re around.

He can’t imagine being with anybody else. He can’t even remember the last time he felt anything save for contempt before you showed up.

And he’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. No cost is too great for the love of his life <3.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[mickyschumacher]

[CHÉRIE!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: heading into ferrari for a new season, you think you're pretty focused. but things don't look too good when a series of love notes from your secret admirer start appearing out of nowhere.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: so so much fluff, poor humour, charles being corny affffff, reader is lowkey oblivious, arthur being the best brother in the world, mentions of charles' hardships with monza and monaco as well as lewis' own hardships, two idiots in love basically

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3.3k

𝐀/𝐍: the last fic of my series! even though it's the cheesiest thing i've written, i love cheesy shit and even better if it's with charles! i really enjoyed writing this series! it's also the most active i've been in a while so that's been really fun. leave some requests and i might just take your offer up. // as usual, poorly proofread

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Lewis Hamilton moving to Ferrari was a shock to most. Whether it was good or bad, well that was up to the individual.  

And while Charles was very welcoming of the move, having the Lewis Hamilton as his teammate wasn’t quite the reason.  

It was you. 

Lewis Hamilton to Ferrari didn’t just bring the history, talent, and skills. It also happened to bring along his personal trainer – you.  

You hadn’t been training Lewis long. Around three years after his previous personal trainer left. There was a lot of doubt surrounding you. You were young. A bit new to the world of motorsports. And it didn’t seem like you were helping Lewis through some of his hardest years at Mercedes.  

But truth be told, underneath all of that, you happened to understand Lewis to a ‘T’. His mentality, his values, his respect, and his beliefs. They coincided with yours. Together, you could achieve the impossible, you were both sure of it. 

Unfortunately, Mercedes just had a really shitty car (and a shitty attitude). 

Cue the move to Ferrari. Which in reality was music to Charles’ ears.  

Over the past few years, Charles had managed to become friends with you. It took him a while seeing as you were slightly reserved and all over the paddock at all times. But once you had given him one of the most inspiring and encouraging talks, he had ever received after the stint Ferrari had pulled on him in Monaco, 2022 – it was safe to say you had progressed your friendship. 

To anyone with a brain and perhaps even slightly declined vision, it was plain as day that Charles was interested in you. Because someone not interested in you wouldn’t stop his interviews to say ‘Hi’ to you, get you involved in Ferrari’s YouTube videos, or walk the track every morning just so he could join you.  

2024 was an irritating year for Charles. While the SF-24 wasn’t particularly awful and Charles had still managed to win some races, there was still something missing. Not to mention, a whole Constructor’s championship. Furthermore, waiting for you and Lewis to arrive to Maranello was like telling a child to wait to open their Christmas gift – it was far too long of a wait.  

But the time had finally come. Charles had done his annual training camp and arrived to Maranello and both you and Lewis had officially settled down in the area. The first few weeks with you on the team was surreal. Charles was spending more time with you than ever. Almost every day he interrupted your lunch and sat down with you. When Lewis was in the car, he’d appear next to you, discussing smalls things like how you were finding Italy or how the car was.  

With every passing second, he spent with you, Charles was struggling to be just friends with you. Especially with the occasional rumor or ship edit of you and Lewis. Deep down, he knew there was nothing to be worried about. Lewis saw you more as a sister if anything, sharing your knowledge with him.  

It was time, however, to change this.  

Charles had planned it out carefully. Fourteen notes from your secret admirer. Plastered around all areas you visit the most within the Ferrari headquarters. One for every day up until the holiday of love itself: Valentine’s Day. 

The first five notes were relatively tame and simple, complimenting your hair or your smile or even giving you some encouragement. They were enough to get you to pull Charles and Lewis aside. 

“Guys,” you ushered, gathering the two men into a small circle. “Don’t tell anyone just yet, but for the past few days, I’ve been getting these secret notes,” you squealed quietly, holding a few of them in your hands.  

Lewis raised a brow, taking one into his hand. “Secret notes? You mean like letters from a secret admirer?” He asked, reading the note slowly.  

You paused. A secret admirer. You hadn’t really thought of the notes like that. You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly. “Oh... I’m not quite sure about that. They seem really sweet but I don’t think they mean it like that.” 

Charles pursed his lips together, in disbelief that he was watching his entire plan fall apart before his very eyes. “I mean... they probably do mean it like that,” he chuckled, trying to waver off his nervousness. He blinked at the staring expressions from you and Lewis. “I mean–who leaves compliments they could say to your face on paper if they don’t like you.” 

Huh. Now that you thought about it, that was a reasonable argument. “Maybe,” you agreed with a small nod, taking back the notes.  

Lewis shoved his hands in his pockets, moving his knowing glance from Charles to you. “Do you think they’ll ever reveal themselves?” 

Unbeknownst to you, Charles’ skin began heating up as you gave a small shrug. “Possibly. Who knows? I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” 

━━━━━━━━━━━ 

After your conversation with Charles and Lewis, your notes were starting to become only slightly less complimentary and more poetic. 

“At night, when the world falls asleep and all is still, you take over my every thought, against my will.” 

“Your laugh is a melody of my favourite music notes I wish to hear. A song for my ears only. So soft and so warm.” 

“The smile you wear, while unnoticed by all, is one I cannot forget at all.” 

Were they cheesy and corny? Yes. Absolutely.  

But were you smiling from ear to ear? A hundred percent.  

It was getting bad now. For every note you read, your heart would race against your chest, your cheeks would flush, and the world seem to go quiet. You were sure this was exactly what this person wanted.  

You couldn’t help but try figure out who the person was. But so far, there were very little personal clues in the notes. All you knew is that the person seemed to know you quite well as every note you found were in the places you visited the most. 

“Hello,” a voice sung. 

You looked up from the laptop you were supposed to be doing work on (and not daydreaming about love letters). You grinned at the familiar face. “Baby Leclerc!” 

Arthur gave you a feigned pained expression, taking a seat next to you. “You and Charles... I swear,” he sighed, resting his head on the chair as you laughed softly. He turned his head to you. “So, I hear you’ve been getting secret notes?” 

You flickered your eyes over to Arthur. “That idiot! I told Charles not to tell anyone,” you pouted.  

Things are different when your brother sends you to deliver these same notes at six in the morning. Arthur simply smiled. “Any ideas on who it is?”  

You sighed, shutting your laptop. “Nope,” you pursed your lips. You had received ten notes in total now. You had managed to pick out a few things. “I think whoever it is likes music or plays something since I’ve had three notes about music. They also might like snow since my ‘heart is as soft as the snow.’” 

Arthur pressed his lips together on a line, trying to control his body from projectile vomiting on his brother’s corny notes. “Sound like anyone you know?” He asked, watching you carefully.  

Surely by now... 

You furrowed your brows. Music and snow. Music and snow. Music and snow. Nothing. There was nothing going through your head and Arthur could tell.  

“Well,” Arthur started, standing up from his seat. “I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” 

You smiled. “Hopefully.” 

━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Four notes were left and it was getting more difficult to not only convince Arthur to put them in the selected locations but to make sure you were able to see them. It was getting closer and closer to the date of the car launch. It was five days after Valentine’s Day, the day you were going to receive your last note and this game of hide and seek would finally come to an end.  

D-3 

“You guide me through all the noise and speed. When you’re here, I find all I need.” 

Noise and speed? Now you were thrown off. What did that mean? The noise and speed of what? 

But as you walked past the plethora of rooms working on every small or big part of Ferrari’s new car for the season, one cog turned in place. You halted in your steps, thinking very carefully as drills and machines vibrated throughout the building.  

Of course. The person had to be within Scuderia Ferrari. Your first thought – it could’ve been anyone. But noise and speed? That was Formula 1. That was at least all your engineers, mechanics, pit crew...  

You felt a hand rest on your shoulder, your name softly being called out. “Hey. You okay, chérie?” Charles queried, blue eyes looking down at you slightly concerned.  

You blinked, allowing a smile to grace your face even though it felt like the weight of his hand was burning your skin. You tried to keep your cheeks from heating up but any efforts were wasted. “Yeah, great,” you breathed. “Just figuring some things out.” 

Charles slowly nodded, removing his hand and allowing you to breathe again. “Okay,” he murmured, “I just wanted to ask. Make sure you eat and drink well, hmm? I don’t want you passing out on the launch.” 

You rolled your eyes, cheeks still burning. “Speak for yourself. Don’t think I haven’t seen you skipping lunch for the past week.” 

Charles grinned to himself. You noticed. Reality was that he was struggling to not just confess every time he saw you, so he thought cutting one part of his day with you would help. It didn’t. But, hey, at least you noticed.  

“You can just say you miss me. I won’t tell anyone, chérie. It’ll be our little secret,” he winked, starting to quickly walk past you in the hope you can’t see his flustered expression. 

You blinked blankly again, feeling your heart loudly beat in your chest.  

Holy shit.  

D-2  

“Even amongst the roar of the engine and the cheer of the crowd, you’re the only one I can hear.” 

So, you were right. Whoever this admirer was, they were dealing with Ferrari’s car in some shape or format. It was more likely to be a mechanic or engineer, maybe even a test driver. 

But one who liked music and snow? You couldn’t think of one person who fitted in all those categories.  

“Penny for your thoughts?” Lewis queried, taking a seat next to you at lunch. He mended his brows, tilting his head. “Or should I say euro?” 

You huffed, shaking your head. “Funny guy, aren’t ya?” 

“Very,” Lewis commented before nudging your shoulder. “So... what’s on your mind? A secret admirer, perhaps?” 

You rolled your eyes at his teasing tone. “Sort of. I’m just trying to figure them out. I just wish...” 

Lewis raised a brow, turning his body to yours. “You wish...?” 

You wished Charles was your secret admirer instead.  

Sure, the notes made your day. But Charles was making your day in real life... off the paper. Just this morning, you and Charles had bumped into each other after you received your note. You were about to order your usual drink when he had ordered it for you, memorising the way you liked it exactly.  

You told him you couldn’t believe he remembered. And he responded, “Of course I remember. Why wouldn’t I?”  

The moment had left you thinking for the entire day. You hadn’t seen him since but you don’t think you could look at him without being flustered and a hot mess.  

“Nothing,” you mumbled, sighing while Lewis grinned to himself. He knew exactly what you were wishing for. 

D-1 

“For every checkered flag that waves, you’re the one I look for first. Because even in a crowded room, I’ll always look for you.” 

Checkered flags were always a mess. Seconds before the race leader would even pass, the garage and the stands were always moving, running, to the podium. It was rhythm of chaos. You never knew who was next to you. All you could feel was what it felt like in the moment.  

Silverstone 2024 was for you to remember forever. Lewis’ first win since 2021 – since you had joined him as his personal trainer. The driver to have the most wins at a single circuit and it was at his home race.  

Tears were shed that day.  

And the crowd was something you would never forget. You almost lost yourself until Lewis had found you himself, thanking you for being by his side for some of the toughest years of his life.  

But for your secret admirer to find you in a crowd of a checkered flag waves... well, they must have some good eyes.  

You were lying down on a bench with Charles seated next to you and Arthur sitting across you. All of you were on your break, soaking in the tiny bit of sun that had come out during winter. 

Your eyes were shut, protecting yourself from the sun and from melting under Charles’ gaze. You could hear Arthur call your name, making your ears perk up. “What do you look for in a guy?” 

You couldn’t see it but Charles was sending the most heaviest glare he could muster to his younger brother. Arthur simply rolled his eyes, waiting for your response. 

“That’s such a random question,” you mumbled. 

Arthur cleared his throat. You were already onto him. “I mean... well, I asked Jade after I saw a TikTok of people’s responses. She said personality which is great, I guess. Kind of unsettling news for my face though,” he murmured towards the end.  

You and Charles found yourself laughing at the scenario. Arthur was truly one of a kind. Quietening down, you realised the brothers were both waiting for your answer. “Um,” you momentarily pondered, “their soul.” 

Arthur and Charles paused. The younger brother raised a brow you couldn’t see. “Their soul? What are you, a grim reaper?” 

You chuckled softly. “It’s not that... it’s–well, I think everyone has specific types of souls. You can see it when you talk to someone and get to know them. It’s someone’s essence... the fabric of who they are.” 

Charles leaned over, face hovering over you from a safe distance. “Their souls?” He repeated out of curiosity.  

You nodded. “Yep. Everyone has one. Even you.” 

Now you had full undivided attention. “Yeah? What do you think my soul is like, chérie?” 

You opened your eyes, swallowing hard when you met those baby blues. Letting out a slow exhale, you stared at him as you thought about your answers. The words seemed to come easily to you.  

“Charles... your soul dances. Purely. Freely. It dances to every fleeting moment and to the rhythm of life. Your soul finds meaning in everything because you have the biggest heart I’ve ever known. Because you are the most beautiful person I have ever met, inside and out.” 

Charles blinked, speechless. He wasn’t sure what was more touching. Your words or your sheer seriousness. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his heart at bay.  

One more day...  

That’s all he needed to wait for 

D-DAY 

“Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? I don’t know about you but I hope they do.” 

You stared at the piece of paper. Souls? All of a sudden?  

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” a voice quietly greeted behind you. 

You turned your body despite knowing exactly who it was by the wave of warmth his voice had sent through you. “Hmm? Did you say something?” 

Charles pursed his lips. Shoving his hands in his pockets of his jacket and smiled. “I said Happy Valentine’s Day. You know... since it’s the fourteenth.” 

You nodded slowly, half processing his words while his dimples twinkled at you. “You too,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up once again. Stupid goddamn cheeks and their susceptibility to Charles.  

You watched his eyes to fall the note in your hands. “Another note?” He asked.  

You gave a small smile. “Yup.” 

Charles cleared his throat, shuffling on his feet. “What does it say today?” 

You opened your mouth, ready to start complaining. “It asks me about whether I think the universe fights for souls to be together–” 

“Well, do you?” Charles queried, softly staring at you. 

You blinked, feeling tongue-tied. “I... I-I mean yes. I’m sure the universe does but that’s not my point. My point is... is that it’s too random. Where did souls come from? This entire time it’s been music, piano, snow, noise, engines, and checkered flags... it’s so random. They’ve all been somewhat connected by now and–” 

“Chérie,” Charles called.  

“Yeah?” You responded only to be met with silence. You mended your brows together as he silently stood in front of you. Why wasn’t he saying anything? 

You felt the walls of the world close in on you as he raised his eyebrows gently. Surely not... 

Charles took a step closer to you, grabbing your hand with his. “I’m not sure about the universe, chérie. But I would love to fight for us.” 

Your mouth fell open. You think your hands were shaking. “Charles... you wrote the notes?” 

“Yeah,” he admitted, hand reaching to rub the back of his neck as his own cheeks started to burn.  

“I’ve been planning it a few days after you came to Maranello. I just didn’t know how long I could be just friends with you for but I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you then. If it isn’t clear yet,” he breathed in, thumb rubbing your hand gently, “I really really like you.” 

You gulped. Charles’ eyes were always soft. They changed when he raced. Like he could burn down the track. But today, they looked at you with such a warm and heartfelt intensity. It was the same one when he lost in Monaco and when he won.  

The same one you found searching for you in the crowd.  

Charles’ breath hitched as he felt you lean in. He watched you move your head, eyes falling to his lips. And just like that, he could feel your lips pressed onto the corner of his mouth. He steadied himself as you pull away, your thumb grazing his mouth gently.  

He flickered his eyes to your lips as the words fall freely. “I like you too.” 

Charles grinned, dimples popping out once again. His arms moved to wrap themselves around your waist, bringing you into a tight hug. He let out a relieved exhale. “Thank God,” he murmured next to your ear. 

He could feel you laugh against him and he loved it. “What did you think I was gonna say? That I didn’t like you?” You asked with a small smile as you pulled away from his body, still in his grasp. 

Charles rolled his eyes, thumb rubbing small circles into your waist. He looked at you, taking in the moment. He gave you a small shrug. “You always make me nervous,” he sighed out.  

“Me? Make you nervous?” You gaped. “I’m pretty sure I’m shaking right now.” 

A wide smile graced his face. “I’m glad I have the ability to do that.” 

You stayed silent, unsure if you could trust yourself to speak any further. You simply smiled, cheeks still burning to react to Charles while you rested in his arms. 

“Chérie,” he called softly and this time you looked back to what was yours. 

You tilted your head, waiting for him to say something.  

“You never asked me about your soul,” he stated. 

The way he said it made the comment sound factual. But you didn’t understand. “What do you mean?” You asked.  

He laughed quietly at your confused expression. Tucking your hair behind your ears, Charles rested his hands back on your waist. “I want you to ask me what I think about your soul.” 

You fell quiet for a brief second. Christ, was he sure that you were the one making him nervous? Because he sure knew how to make you speechless.  

“Okay.” You breathed, giving him a small smile. Moving your arms to his neck, you hung them and opened your mouth. “Charles, what do you think about my soul?” 

“Chérie, you said my soul dances. But your soul... it breathes. It lives. Everywhere you walk, you give life to world. You create reason.  Everything you say and do sounds like a song. Even your silence is music. Sweetheart, you make living the most beautiful gift of life.” 

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 

[sunny-knight]

Dear My Dear -

an @forgettable-au fan-slideshow

At the end of their journey, Sans has remembered everything. And theres only one question on his mind now…

*now what?

Its lore time. omg theres so much-

The way ill organize this…lIll start with the GENERAL thing, before getting more spesific, and explain each slide in way too much detail.

THE BIGGER PICTURE

This is the hypothetical end to their journey. Sans and Papyrus remember what happened, and this is how Sans is handling it. A letter to Wingdings.

I was hesitant to make this at first for obvious reasons- we dont know how its gonna end!!! But I took this more as a “what if ?” scenario. IF they ever remember anything, how would Sans specifically, react? I mean thats gotta be tough.

Because of that though, lot of what happened to lead up to this is kept vague.

ill explain in way more detail how Sans got to the point of writing this letter, and how he feels in the end when I explain each slide individually. But the reason why, the MAIN ISSUE is…

Over the years, hes put so much effort into enjoying what he has. And- nothings even changed!!! So why does he feel so much has? Now that he remembers what he lost…WHO he lost. He cant help but have this voice in the back of his head that says “would it have been better if that never happened? if Papyrus never existed?” and of course he absolutely hates to think that! but the voice gets louder. Writing this letter, is an act of closure. Of laying to rest someone he never got to. Someone he never even really got to do much with.

(Excuse the shitty quality of the images- I promise they’re better. WATCH THE VIDEO)

my dear wingdings,)

Sans says “wingdings” here instead of “brother”. that’s important. Also its on a white void, showing a sorta “heavenly imagery” with the mention of Wingdings. Also Gaster is in a BLACK void, but hes talking about WD here, so, contradictions.

you never came back, and now…after remembering everything everything clearly i understand why.)

Sans and Papyrus are sitting by a fire at night. They are both sorta lost in their own worlds at the moment, but are more or less leaning on one another for comfort and support. They both need each other right now despite each other being the whole reason why they feel the way they do right now-

Papyrus is notably no longer wearing the white coat that somewhat resembles a lab coat. Symbolism! Growth!

(art note: I drew Sans as a lefty in this- cherish it. It was so hard to draw these hands at these angles- CHERISH IT.)

i don’t imagine you’ll receive this letter, but i, nonetheless, must send it. wingdings….oh ‘dings…)

the first part is somewhat of a self aware/sarcastic joke. Sans is writing this letter for himself- he doesn’t imagine Wingdings, the dead man, will ever see it. Nor would Gaster care to read it. Thats another important thing, this is NOT a letter for Gaster. This is a letter for Wingdings. which is for Sans

The star in the sky symbolizes a few different things- the main one being Wingdings ofc. But also Papyrus’ expectations of himself- which mainly come from who he was. He’s looking at it, reflecting, thinking of what Wingdings did, and what Papyrus has done. Who he is NOW, and if he ever was Wingdings.

Or if Wingdings just became him.

A square is a rectangle, but a rectangle isn’t a square type thing.

i was just starting to dream the silliest- the softest of dreams. i miss you. and i will always miss you.)

2 contradictions, what Sans used to think, vs what he knows now. The memories were fuzzy- he couldn’t remember The Royal Scientist, he just feels like he remembers some nice times. Before now knowing everything clearly. And he still misses it- slightly.

The reflections are blacked out at first, before showing their future selves. Before, there was no connection to the present because it wasnt true. It felt like/was 2 completely different things

but i cannot live like that.)

Sans can still tell, even without the rose tinted glasses view he used to have, he cant live missing the past and not living in the present. He always knew that, but repeating it here makes him feel better.

Pictured is Sans and Papyrus hiking up the mountain next to the city as the sun sets. Papyrus is in full view of the light, but is facing away in order to help Sans see it too. Symbolism!

and it seems you cannot live any other way.)

another reference to the fact that Wingdings cant live… at all now. But also an awareness that part of him lives on in Gaster. The thing that killed him.

I doubt hes going to change in any way by the end of the comics, he’s far to obsessive about angels and the player for childish stuff like “growth” and “changing for the better as a human being”

when i was with you, the world made sense. but now that we are apart, i see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape.)

When they were together, they knew what they wanted to be. They wanted to be scientists. But after being apart so long and experiencing so much uncertainty, Sans finds that mindset is unhealthy. Again, a lot of this is stuff he already knew, but is repeating to himself because after remembering everything, he feels as if hes back at square one.

As kids they would test echo flowers, for science purposes! We don’t know yet if WDs voice comes through on them, but I imagine not… maybe. But for this we’re gonna say no. Their speech bubbles are trying so hard to be circles- the scribbles also somewhat resemble stars because I thought that’d be fun.

But the last slide has it shown that he dug them out, also for science purposes!

He took the echo flowers from their roots, much later on in his lab career. That in itself isnt that bad, but it symbolizes that he doesn’t care much for taking things slow. He wants to test with echo flowers? **TAKES EVERY SINGLE ONE WITHIN A 100 MILE RADIUS**

Also the empty holes reflects sort of what happened after he died. All of the underground was left with holes to fill. Sans, a childhood/brother. Alphys, the royal scientist. Those are the main ones but he was THE ROYAL SCIENTIST im sure there were more (smaller) holes that may or may not have been filled.

Ok and the last thing the flowers being taken out represent- he took the ones specifically from when they were kids, and abandoned what was left for the grass to grow tall and the entire area to be, in general, a lot flatter. In his quest to basically never grow up and continue being the thing he KNEW he wanted to be since kindergarten- he’s taken everything and left the rest in the dust. He’s The Royal Scientist now, he “doesn’t need anything else.”

i’m so sorry. for everything. for everything long ago, and for starting up that machine again.

Sans knows he could have been better. He could have done things differently, and that thought messes with him, even before he remembered.

The 2nd image is Sans at Grillbys after another failed attempt to get Wingdings outside. Despite the fact that he could have done things differently, theres no real reason to be “sorry” But still, he cant help but feel like he should be. He could have done things differently- could have tried harder, and gotten Wingdings out more often- or at all.

Im not sure where the machine in Sans’ lab comes into play in this AU, but it worked for the purposes of this audio.

theres a good man within you, wingdings. but he is wrestling with a giant. and the giant WINS time and again.)

Before everything, there was still a good man inside Wingdings that Sans saw. But now that he’s Gaster he just cant see him ever changing... and yknow what hes probably right. Like Papyrus says! Anyone can be a good person if they just try!…Gaster just isnt trying

“Wins” being emphasized here, I enjoy, since its sorta a video gamey term. The giant hes wrestling is that/the player, after all. Also probably his ego

I also had fun with kid Wingdings and what he’s drawing. Ofc its all him and Sans plus silly little stars, but him being finished drawing Sans, but not yet finished drawing himself, symbolizes the fact that at that age he still didn’t really know what he wanted to be, I feel like Wingdings kinda remembers the past wrong. Sure he definitely had science on the mind, but younger kids are often filled with questions, he questions if thats truly where he’d be the happiest.

Thats the good man within him

you’ve broken my soul again, and i fear i have broken yours. and for that i will never forgive myself, but i need to let you go now.)

the star represents, again, Wingdings. And the moon represents Sans, which shines only under the Suns (Papyrus’) light.

The sun is beginning to rise, and Sans and Papyrus are beginning to leave. Sans puts out the fire, closing this chapter of his life.

Because of every reason he needed to relearn/re-reflect on listed here, hes ready to let Wingdings go now. Sans is the one to put out the fire here, and not Papyrus, cause this is from the perspective of how SANS handles putting this issue to rest. Papyrus can have his own fire to put out later

Another thing about putting out the fire, thats just kinda common knowledge to do especially at a public camping spot. Yknow what else is common knowledge to do so you dont disrupt the community?? NOT REPLANTING FLOWERS-

Its not that deep…but still-

i send you the radio you made many years ago when we were kids. not because i dont want it, but… because i care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you.)

CALL BACK!!!!!!

Sans leaves this last memento to Wingdings, the last thing they have that has nothing to do with Papyrus. Because at this point theres no reason to keep it, in Sans’ mind at least. There’s also no reason to destroy it- Like he says, hes not leaving it out of malice, theres just no good that will come from keeping it and holding onto the past.

As the sun rises, here we see the brothers leaving. in contrast to before, Sans is helping Papyrus down. Helping him down from the spotlight, the expectations he’s set upon himself. Another kick that Papyrus still has much more to reflect on and think about, he’s still looking back at that light, at a shooting star, at everything he thought he wanted to be.

i hope one day you will find some kind people who with appreciate you. for it kept me thinking of you all these years.)

GASTER FOLLOWERS!!!

Despite everything, Sans still wants whats left of Wingdings, Gaster, to be happy and find something, anyone, that will give him true happiness. It’s left ambiguous however if they truly do, do that for him. If it’s at all healthy.

cause frankly i have no idea how theyll be included. but just like everything- i cant wait to find out

EDIT: something important (and really wordy-) I just remembered and forgot to mention: the wording change “i hope you will find some kind people who will appreciate you”. I chose this because I think it’s the thing Wingdings and Papyrus just want the most. To be appreciated- to be loved for who they are. Sans is/has been so happy that Papyrus has found those people in Undyne, Toriel, Asgore, and…hopefullllyyy Alphys? And now that Sans remembers Wingdings, and remembers how badly he wanted that, and how he never did. Sans cant help but feel horrible for him, and in turn, Gaster. Sans forgives Wingdings, and loves Papyrus…and….he just wants the best for Gaster. He hopes he can find true happiness in that twisted mind of his…

and i hope by returning it to you, i can finally be free. goodbye.

- your brother

As the sun rises, the star gets smaller and smaller and eventually the sun replaces it. Remember when I said Papyrus represents the sun? SYMBOLISM!!!

Also about that, the star shines brighter than anything, but the Sun is among a lot of clouds, depicting how isolated Wingdings is/was despite shining the brightest, vs Papyrus who also does indeed shine! but isn’t isolated whatsoever.

Now, remember when I said Sans saying “my dear wingdings” instead of “my dear brother” was important? well, he acknowledges that he is still Wingdings’ brother, despite everything. So he signs off as “your brother” but… He’ll always try to remember Wingdings fondly…but…he’s unsure if he considers Wingdings his brother anymore- just because of how much they’ve changed. Thats why the whole thing is called Dear My Dear.

the radio + letter remains there in the end. I briefly played with the idea of having them disappear as the sun came out, implying that Gaster took the radio and reas the letter, but that was before I realized it was much better for this to be for Wingdings specifically, not Gaster/Wingdings/whatever.

FINALE!!! PLUS SOME BEHIND THE SCENES INFO!!!

weeps pitifully this was probably the most fun i’ve had with a project/the most happy i’ve come out of one. Learned lots about my process’ and what works! so thats awesome It took a while to make, so theres a lot of stuff I changed or ideas I scrapped that I find interesting, so im gonna show some of that on my side/shitpost account, @o-sunny-day

also isnt this so awesome???? I got a computer so I got to post more images than just 10, THIS IS SO AWESOME!!!

Have a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year! Heres to being a bigger, better, and different person this year! except not really because despite everything its still you.

un-unless you…got shattered across time and space…. then you’re-

well I mean that-….. hm…

does that…? hmm, well….

[thedensworld]

Reality Love Winner | K.Mg

Genre: fluff, angst, suggestive, exes to lovers au!

Summary: Mingyu needs money, as well as you. So joining a reality dating show for money wouldn't hurt anybody right?

Hello everybody! First fic in 2025 and i hope you enjoy this lil fluffy fluffity fluff of Mingoo🥰

What he remembered about you the most?

A three-month relationship felt like a whirlwind—a fleeting moment of bliss before reality forced you both apart. It wasn’t that the love was absent; it was just overshadowed by the weight of your individual ambitions.

But even with its brevity, your time together left a searing mark on Mingyu. What stood out the most wasn’t the laughter, the conversations, or the shared dreams—it was the intimacy. He vividly recalled the nights when the two of you were tangled in his sheets, naked and desperate to escape the stress of your demanding lives. Heated kisses that turned into frenzied passion. Sloppy thrusts that silenced the chaos of the outside world.

Every encounter felt like an unspoken agreement to forget your struggles by losing yourselves in each other. Mingyu knew your favorite position by heart, learning your body as if it were a masterpiece he’d been tasked to perfect. He was meticulous, deliberate, obsessed. And every time, he was grateful for his early mornings at the gym, pumping iron and building strength—not just to look good, but to keep up with you.

On the wall, on the table, on the bed, or sprawled across the floor—Mingyu was always ready. Sitting, lying down, or standing, he gave you everything he had. It wasn’t just sex; it was an act of devotion, a way to show you how much he craved you, admired you, worshiped you.

What haunted him most wasn’t just the absence of those moments, but the fire you left behind. You were a storm he couldn’t forget, a fever that lingered in his veins long after you’d gone. He didn’t just remember you; he felt you, like a phantom touch, long after you’d both walked away.

For Mingyu, obsession wasn’t even the right word—it was something deeper, something primal. You were the one indulgence he never wanted to give up, the addiction he never thought he’d have to quit.

"Let's break up."

The words fell from your lips with a quiet finality, and he knew—this was it. The end. He had always known it would come to this, hadn’t he? Even from the beginning, there had been an unspoken truth lingering between the two of you.

You were too devoted to your work, pouring your heart and soul into a career that demanded every ounce of your time and energy. And Mingyu? He had his own empire to build, a business that consumed him in ways even he didn’t anticipate.

There was no space for you and him in the cracks of your busy lives, no room to nurture what little love you had managed to build. Every moment together felt like stealing time from a ticking clock, and the pressure of it all had slowly worn you both down.

Calling it quits was the better option, the logical one. Yet as he looked at you, standing there with that familiar fire in your eyes dimmed by sadness, he couldn’t help but wonder if logic was enough to soothe the ache in his chest. The ache of knowing that what could have been would never be.

He didn’t argue. He didn’t try to change your mind. He simply nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as the weight of reality settled over him. Because deep down, Mingyu knew that loving you had always been a beautiful impossibility.

However, Mingyu heard the news about you through Seungkwan, the friend who had introduced the two of you in the first place.

“She got involved with a senior and was manipulated. It wasn’t fair, but you know how companies work,” Seungkwan explained, his tone laced with disappointment.

Mingyu felt a rush of anger surge through him as the words sank in. You had worked your ass off, pouring everything you had into your career, only to be cast aside like that? It wasn’t just unfair—it was cruel.

As he stewed in frustration, an idea began to form in his mind. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to turn your current misfortune into an opportunity for both of you. He’d recently heard about Reality Show Love, a dating show still in the process of casting couples. The prize money was massive—enough to breathe life back into his struggling business and possibly even give you a fresh start.

All you had to do was agree.

When he called you one night to pitch the idea, your voice was sharp and unyielding. “I’m not doing it!”

“Come on, Y/n!” Mingyu countered, his tone pleading yet persuasive. “It’s not like we’re going to actually be a real couple. We just have to act a little, play the part, and scam the audience. Easy money!”

He quickly rattled off the prize amount, letting the number hang in the air. The silence on the other end of the line told him everything he needed to know—you were considering it.

“What do you think?” he pressed, the edge of excitement creeping into his voice. “We split it 50:50. Half for me, half for you.”

You exhaled, your hesitation audible, before finally muttering, “Alright. Deal.”

And just like that, the wheels were set in motion. The two of you now stood alongside three other couples in a luxurious villa meticulously prepared by the production crew. In the narrative crafted for the show, you were cast as a one-year-old couple—a boss and their assistant—an angle the casting team found intriguing enough to secure your spot.

“I think it’ll be more interesting if we have opposite charms,” Mingyu had suggested during one of your brainstorming sessions to make your ‘relationship’ believable. “Like a golden retriever and a black cat dynamic?”

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched across your face. “I don’t want to be the dog. That sounds exhausting.”

Mingyu huffed dramatically, crossing his arms. “Fine, I’ll take the golden retriever role. I’ve been a dog all my life, anyway. You can be the black cat—it suits your real personality.” His tone turned teasing as a sly grin spread across his face.

Your eyes narrowed. “Watch it, Kim Mingyu. You’re not exactly a ray of sunshine yourself.”

The banter was light, but it was also necessary. Every detail of your fabricated relationship had to be convincing—not just to the production team, but to the millions of viewers who would be scrutinizing every interaction.

Once the introductions were complete, the couples were assigned their respective rooms, though there was a twist: men and women would be separated. It was part of the show’s strategy to create tension and test bonds. The host announced the premise of the competition. Over ten episodes, the couples would face various missions designed to showcase their dynamics and challenge their chemistry. Only one couple would make it to the end to claim the grand prize.

“Sounds pretty easy, right?” Mingyu whispered as the rules were being explained, leaning closer to you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “As long as we keep working together.”

You glanced at him, catching the rare blend of excitement and determination on his face. “Easy for you to say,” you murmured back. “Just don’t forget your lines, golden retriever.”

Mingyu smirked, the confidence in his expression unshakable. “Don’t worry, black cat. I’ve got this.”

And as the cameras rolled, capturing every calculated glance and practiced smile, the real game began.

*

As two episodes aired, the reaction to you and Mingyu was massive. No one had expected a couple that looked like they walked straight off the pages of a magazine to join a reality dating show—and with such surprising charm, no less.

Viewers were captivated, fully buying into the backstory crafted for your relationship: a boss who had fallen in love with his assistant after working tirelessly together to build a business from the ground up. The narrative felt heartfelt and relatable, leaving audiences touched and rooting for you both.

Mingyu’s likeable persona quickly became a hot topic on the internet. His name trended on search engines for two weeks straight, with fans gushing over his effortless charisma and warm personality. A particular clip of him cooking breakfast for all the contestants went viral, drawing millions of views and flooding comment sections with admiration.

“Boyfriend material!”

“Kim Mingyu is the blueprint.”

“How can someone be this handsome and good at cooking?!”

The buzz surrounding him was electric, turning him into an overnight sensation. Meanwhile, your poised yet subtly feisty demeanor perfectly balanced his golden retriever energy, solidifying the two of you as fan favorites.

With each new episode, it became increasingly clear—you and Mingyu weren’t just playing the game. You were stealing the show.

To keep up with the growing tension and maintain the audience's interest, you and Mingyu had a private meeting to brainstorm new strategies to market your relationship as even more likeable.

“Should we make you anxious about all the attention I’ve gotten these past two episodes?” Mingyu suggested, a teasing glint in his eyes. You chuckled, feeling a flicker of hesitation. You had never lived a life filled with worry, so the idea felt a little foreign to you.

“Should I try, Y/n?” he pressed, raising an eyebrow as if daring you to bite. Mingyu still couldn’t wrap his head around how someone could live so carefree, with no worries to weigh them down.

You considered it, then threw out another idea. “Or maybe we could stress the point that you’re completely obsessed with me because I’m so pretty?”

Mingyu groaned, clearly not impressed. “Please, Y/n. You’re not helping your case.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, the playful frustration in his voice making you smirk.

“Or you could act jealous,” you continued, clearly enjoying the banter. “I could flirt with one of the other cast members. Get some real drama going.”

Mingyu’s eyes widened in mock horror, then lit up with excitement. “Brilliant!” he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “People love watching someone else get jealous. It’s perfect.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. As ridiculous as it was, you knew one thing for sure: the next few episodes were going to be a whole lot more interesting.

As the next few episodes aired, you followed through with the plan—interacting more with the other male cast members, engaging in lighthearted conversations, laughing a little too easily, and making sure the cameras were capturing every moment. You could feel Mingyu's eyes on you, though he pretended to stay calm. But it didn’t take long for his frustration to show. The subtle way his jaw tightened when you spoke to the others, the barely noticeable sighs, and the way his gaze lingered on you longer than usual—it was all too obvious.

And, of course, the cameras were quick to catch it. The production team loved the drama, and it didn’t take long for the clips to go viral. The viewers ate it up, with fans speculating whether Mingyu’s frustration was real or just another part of the act. Was he truly jealous? Was the "golden retriever" becoming possessive over his "black cat"?

Behind the scenes, the tension was palpable. The other women started to notice too, their glances sharp as you exchanged playful remarks with the other men. The whispers began to spread, and soon it was clear: they weren’t just jealous of your interactions with the men—they were envious of the attention you were getting from everyone.

“Did you see how Y/n was acting with him?” one of the women muttered, her voice low but full of disdain. “She doesn’t even care about Mingyu. It’s like she’s trying to make him jealous on purpose.”

“Exactly,” another woman added, eyeing you from across the room. “It’s disrespectful. If she really cared about him, she wouldn’t be all over everyone else.”

You could feel their eyes burning into your back, but you played it cool, smiling and continuing your act. After all, it was all part of the game. But the other women’s comments only made the drama more intense. The cameras were always watching, capturing every move, every subtle exchange, making sure the growing animosity was on full display for the viewers.

Meanwhile, Mingyu’s behavior was becoming more and more erratic. He'd snap at the smallest things, acting like every interaction you had with the other men was a betrayal. His reactions—though exaggerated—were feeding into the narrative the producers wanted: a couple on the brink of imploding.

“You’re making it hard for me to stay calm, Y/n,” Mingyu muttered one evening, when the two of you were alone, as the cameras rolled. “Everyone’s watching, and you’re just giving them what they want.”

You raised an eyebrow, playing along. “What do you mean? I’m just being friendly.”

But you could see the struggle in his eyes. It wasn’t easy for him to pretend it didn’t bother him.

The drama between the two of you was escalating, and with it, the show’s viewership skyrocketed. Fans were torn between rooting for your playful chemistry and wondering just how far Mingyu’s jealousy would go before everything exploded. The producers were thrilled, and for the first time in the show’s history, the audience was completely invested in your “relationship.”

By the time the fifth episode aired, the tension had reached a boiling point. The producers, eager to keep the drama flowing, decided to bring up something that would really shake things up: the couples' pasts. The production team had asked each couple to submit stories from their past, their struggles, and moments from their present lives to add depth to their on-screen personas. You and Mingyu, caught up in the whirlwind of the show, had submitted a mixture of made-up tales and, honestly, a few true stories—mostly because you couldn’t be bothered to fabricate everything.

But the producers, ever the masterminds of manipulation, weren’t content with just the surface-level drama. They chose to highlight certain moments—stories that you didn’t expect to come to light. One of those stories was about your three-year relationship with your ex.

You sat there, feeling a lump form in your throat as the host casually brought it up.

“So, in your past, Y/n, you had a significant relationship that lasted three years,” the host began, looking at you with a knowing smile. “Can you tell us about that?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you could feel the room shift. Mingyu shot you a concerned glance, but he quickly masked it with his usual carefree smile, trying to play along with the show’s narrative.

You hesitated, the words stuck in your throat. It wasn’t just another story—it was your story. The pain, the memories of that time, resurfaced like a wave crashing over you. You had tried so hard to bury it, to move forward with Mingyu and keep your focus on the present, but here it was, dragged out into the light.

“I… it was a complicated time,” you began, your voice shaky, trying to maintain your composure. "We were in different places in life. It ended because of... differences in what we wanted, what we valued."

The host nodded, prompting you to continue. "It’s just hard to let go of someone you spent so much time with, especially when the future felt uncertain. But I thought I had moved on… until now."

The words hit harder than you expected, and your mind raced with all the unresolved emotions tied to that past. You had moved on from your ex, yes, but the scars it left were deeper than you had allowed yourself to acknowledge.

As the story played out on-screen, you could see Mingyu's eyes flicker with a mix of concern and something else—something that felt too close to discomfort for comfort. The producers, with their expert timing, had turned a lighthearted conversation into something raw, something personal.

“And how does Mingyu feel about you sharing this part of your past?” the host asked, turning the spotlight onto him.

Mingyu’s smile faltered for a second, the weight of your past suddenly making him uneasy. He leaned forward, looking directly at you, trying to keep the mood light despite the tension rising. "It’s just a part of her story," he said with a slight chuckle. "I’m not worried about it. I trust her."

But you could tell it wasn’t as simple as that. The air between the two of you shifted, just for a moment, and the playful, teasing dynamic you had spent episodes building seemed to falter.

The room grew quiet, and the cameras were rolling, capturing every inch of your discomfort. Mingyu, ever the showman, quickly recovered, but his earlier comment about trusting you sounded more like a plea than a statement of confidence.

The host pushed on, sensing the discomfort. “So, Y/n, do you think you’ve fully healed from that relationship? And how does it affect your relationship with Mingyu now?”

You took a breath, trying to regain control of the situation. You didn’t want to seem vulnerable—not on national TV, not when you had built a persona of the confident, carefree woman. But the question hit you in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

“I... I thought I had,” you said softly, eyes dropping to the table for a moment. "But sometimes, things from the past come up, and you realize there are still things you need to process. It’s not always easy."

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken tension, the cameras capturing the moment for the world to see. You could almost feel Mingyu’s gaze on you, but you didn’t look up. He didn’t need to know how much that relationship still affected you. You were here now. You had him now.

But the damage was done. The audience, the cast, and even Mingyu were left to stew in the emotions that had been stirred up. The past was never truly gone—it was just waiting for the right moment to resurface, and now everyone could see the cracks in your carefully constructed armor.

As the episode ended, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a turning point. Mingyu had already taken the role of the jealous, possessive partner in this show, but this revelation might be more than he could handle. You couldn’t tell if it was the game or real feelings on his part, but something about this challenge had just gotten a lot more complicated.

*

Mingyu drove you home in silence, the weight of the day hanging heavy in the air. He hadn’t expected your real story to be exposed on national TV. It wasn’t just part of the game anymore—it was raw, unfiltered, and it had clearly shaken you. He parked his car in the basement of your apartment building, and without saying much, he helped you carry the bags and equipment from the shoot to your unit.

"Thanks," you said softly, your voice still a little strained, though you tried to mask it.

He nodded, but his eyes lingered on you for a moment, noticing how your mood had completely shifted since the shoot. The lightness you had carried with you before seemed to vanish, replaced by a palpable weight.

"Hey... You okay?" Mingyu finally asked, his tone careful, as though testing the waters.

You nodded, though it felt mechanical. "Yeah... just tired."

He watched you for a moment, but the tightness around your eyes and the way you held yourself told a different story. Something was off. Mingyu tightened the line of his lips, unsure of what to say next, but his instincts told him to push just a little more.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" he said, his voice low but earnest.

You shook your head slowly, your palm instinctively rising to cover your face. The sob that escaped was uncontrollable, the emotion you had kept bottled up for so long suddenly breaking free. You hadn't realized how much of it had been building inside you until that moment.

Mingyu’s eyes softened, his heart sinking as he saw the vulnerability in you that you usually kept hidden. He immediately stepped forward, closing the distance between you, and pulled you into his arms.

"Oh... Y/n... it’s okay," he whispered, his hand gently rubbing your back as he held you. He didn’t say much more—there was no need for words. His embrace, steady and comforting, was all you needed in that moment.

He didn’t push you to explain. He simply held you as the tension in your body began to release, feeling the weight of everything you’d been carrying.

Mingyu held you tightly, his embrace warm and steady. The sound of your sobs was muffled against his chest, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The world outside your small apartment felt miles away as you allowed yourself to break down, to release everything that had been building up inside of you.

He gently stroked your hair, his fingers moving in soothing circles as he waited. His chest tightened, heart aching at the rawness of the pain you were carrying. He wanted to ask you what had happened, why the past hurt so much. But he knew better than to push too hard, too fast.

"You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready," Mingyu whispered, his voice soft but filled with concern. "I’m here. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll listen."

You pulled back slightly, your face still hidden behind your hand as you wiped your tears. It was a small, fragile moment, the kind of thing you didn’t allow anyone to see. You had built walls around your emotions, convinced that vulnerability only made you weak. But in that instant, with Mingyu, the walls began to crumble.

"I didn’t want them to know," you said, your voice breaking. "Not like that. Not on national TV. It feels like... like I have no control anymore."

Mingyu’s expression softened, and he reached up to gently lower your hand from your face. He looked at you with those warm, steady eyes of his—eyes that had seen your strength but never pressured you to be perfect.

"You don’t have to control everything," he said quietly. "It’s okay to let go sometimes. It’s okay to not have everything figured out."

You stared at him, feeling a mix of gratitude and confusion. You had always prided yourself on being independent, not needing anyone. But now, in this vulnerable moment, Mingyu’s words pierced through the walls you had built around your heart.

"I’m so sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I didn’t mean to bring this into the show. I didn’t mean to drag you into it."

Mingyu shook his head gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a gesture of comfort. "You don’t need to apologize to me. You’re not dragging me into anything. I chose to be here, with you." His voice grew steadier, more certain. "And I’m not going anywhere."

The sincerity in his words settled around you like a blanket, comforting and warm. You had always admired Mingyu’s ability to stay calm under pressure, but now, seeing him so open with you, a part of you finally let go.

For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to lean into the comfort of someone else, to let your guard down without fearing rejection or disappointment. Mingyu didn’t look at you like you were broken. He didn’t judge you for your past, for the messiness of your emotions. He simply accepted you for who you were in that moment.

As the silence stretched on, you took a deep breath, your tears slowing. It wasn’t that everything was fixed—it was far from that—but for the first time, you felt a small flicker of hope. Maybe things didn’t have to be perfect. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to do it all alone.

Mingyu’s arms were still around you, his presence a quiet reassurance that you weren’t as alone as you thought. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe it.

*

It was a collaborative game, and the tension was palpable. Blindfolded, Mingyu had to follow your instructions to retrieve an item. The more valuable the item, the more points you and Mingyu would earn. You both managed to snag a teddy bear, worth 75 points—second only to a ring box, which was worth 100. The competition was heating up.

The next game was a chase. You and the other female contestants would chase after your partners and try to rip off their sticker. The energy was high, and it was clear that both you and Mingyu were in it to win. Mingyu had always been competitive; winning was almost a reflex for him. And you? You were determined to do anything it took to secure the victory. It made for the perfect dynamic between the two of you.

You sprinted after Minho, Suji’s partner, moving with precision, waiting for the perfect moment to slyly rip the sticker from his back. Meanwhile, Suji, who was supposed to be focusing on Mingyu, couldn’t help but get distracted by the sight of you in full chase mode.

With a triumphant grin, you tore the sticker off Minho’s back and bolted toward Mingyu. You threw your arms around him in celebration, his smile wide as the buzzer signaled the end of the round. His sticker had remained intact, and your victory was assured.

As everyone gathered for a well-deserved break in the gazebo, refreshments were passed around, and Mingyu handed you a glass of orange juice and some sweets with a thoughtful smile. You couldn't help but think that his gesture was more for the audience's benefit—especially since all the other women were stealing glances at the two of you. The chemistry between you and Mingyu was undeniable, and it wasn’t lost on the others.

Teasingly, you reached up and softly rubbed his cheek, your fingers grazing his skin as you leaned in closer. "Good job, baby," you murmured with a grin.

Mingyu froze for a moment, genuinely surprised. The blush creeping onto his cheeks was almost impossible to hide, his ears tinged with the faintest shade of red. He turned quickly to grab his own drink, still flustered, trying to compose himself. The effortless chemistry between the two of you was apparent, and though the cameras caught it all, neither of you seemed to mind.

As the cast mingled around the gazebo, you noticed Mingyu standing nearby, fidgeting slightly while sipping his drink. His earlier blush hadn’t completely faded, and it made you smile to yourself. Stepping closer, you nudged him gently, making sure the cameras had a clear view.

"Hey," you said softly, your tone full of warmth. "Are you okay? You didn’t hurt yourself during the game, did you?"

Mingyu turned to you, his expression softening immediately. He set his drink down, leaning slightly toward you as if to close the gap. "Me? Hurt? Come on, babe, you know me better than that," he replied with a playful smirk.

You crossed your arms, feigning a skeptical look. "Oh, really? I saw how Suji almost tackled you earlier. It looked intense."

He chuckled, his hand instinctively reaching out to rest on your arm, a small but noticeable gesture caught by the cameras. "She tried, but you know I wasn’t going to let anyone mess with my sticker. Besides," he added, his voice lowering, "you were the one I was worried about. Did Minho give you a hard time?"

"Not even close," you replied with a grin, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "He underestimated me, and I had him cornered in no time. But honestly, you didn’t have to worry about me."

Mingyu tilted his head, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. "Of course I worry about you. You’re my girlfriend. It’s kind of my job, you know."

You laughed lightly, but his words and the gentle way he looked at you made your cheeks heat up. Playing along for the cameras, you reached out to adjust the collar of his shirt, letting your hand linger just a bit. "Well, if it’s your job, you’re doing pretty well so far," you teased.

His ears turned a little pink at the affectionate gesture, but he recovered quickly, placing his hand over yours. "And you? You were incredible out there. Honestly, I couldn’t have done it without you."

"Stop," you said with a playful shove, though your smile was genuine.

Mingyu caught your hand before you could pull away, intertwining his fingers with yours just enough to make it look natural but undeniably intimate. "I’m serious," he said, his tone softer now. "You’re the reason we’re killing it out here."

The subtle touch, the way his voice dipped just enough to make it personal, and the little glances exchanged were all perfectly timed for the cameras. From the outside, it looked like a real moment of connection—and for a fleeting second, even you weren’t sure how much of it was just an act.

The night air was cool, but the crackling fireplace in the center of the group cast a warm glow, creating a cozy atmosphere. Everyone sat in a loose circle, bundled in blankets, sipping warm drinks, and buzzing with energy. The production team had introduced a truth-or-dare session as part of the episode, and it didn’t take long for things to heat up.

Each couple was put on the spot, tasked with either revealing secrets or proving their chemistry through daring challenges. You and Mingyu were relentless, using every opportunity to push the other couples to their limits.

"Truth or dare?" Mingyu grinned devilishly at Suji and Minho, leaning forward slightly.

Minho sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Dare," he finally said, clearly regretting it the moment Mingyu’s eyes lit up.

"Alright," you jumped in, smirking as you exchanged a look with Mingyu. "Minho, we dare you to serenade Suji. Let’s see if you can melt her heart with your voice."

The group erupted in laughter as Minho reluctantly grabbed a nearby guitar. Suji’s amused but skeptical look was priceless, and the whole scene played out perfectly for the cameras.

But soon, it was your turn.

"Truth or dare, Y/n and Mingyu?" Minho asked, his earlier payback evident in his mischievous tone.

You glanced at Mingyu, who shrugged, his grin challenging. "Dare," you both said in unison.

Minho leaned back, his smile spreading. "We dare you two… to make out. Right here, right now, in front of everyone."

The group collectively gasped, the dare sending waves of anticipation through the circle. The cameras zoomed in, catching every reaction.

You turned to Mingyu, raising an eyebrow. "You game?"

Mingyu chuckled, the corners of his lips twitching into a smirk. "It’s just for the cameras, right?" he whispered, leaning a little closer to you.

The atmosphere was heavy with anticipation, the fire casting flickering shadows across everyone’s faces. All eyes were on the two of you, waiting. Mingyu reached for your hand, his palm warm and steady against your own. The simple touch sent a ripple through you, the intimacy of the moment amplified by the crowd and the rolling cameras.

He tugged you closer, his tall frame leaning down slightly to meet you. His free hand found its way to your waist, the pressure gentle but grounding, like he was anchoring you to him amidst the tension that seemed to thicken the air.

"Alright," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper meant only for you. His breath brushed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Let’s give them a show."

You swallowed, your pulse quickening. Mingyu’s gaze held yours for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, a flicker of something unspoken in his deep brown eyes. Was it amusement? Confidence? Or something softer, more genuine? You couldn’t tell, and it only made your heart race more.

As you leaned in, the world around you seemed to blur. Your lips met his, soft at first, a tentative touch that betrayed the scripted nature of the dare. But then, something shifted. Mingyu’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepened.

His lips moved against yours with a rhythm that felt almost too natural, too real. The crackle of the fire and the murmurs from the others faded away entirely. For a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, wrapped in a bubble that no one else could penetrate.

Your hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders, fingers curling slightly against the fabric of his shirt. The warmth of his touch seeped through you, mingling with the fire’s heat and the faint scent of woodsmoke in the air.

Mingyu tilted his head, adjusting the angle, and the kiss grew more deliberate. His thumb brushed your waist in a subtle, almost comforting gesture. Was he trying to reassure you? Or was he just as caught up in the moment as you were?

Your emotions were a whirlwind. There was the rush of performing for the cameras, the thrill of the audience’s attention, but also something deeper—something unexpected. The kiss felt too perfect, too seamless, as though it wasn’t just an act.

When you finally pulled away, the spell broke. The group erupted into cheers and whistles, their energy breaking the tension like a dam giving way. Mingyu didn’t let go immediately. His hand lingered at your waist, and his lips, now curved into a satisfied smile, glistened slightly in the firelight.

His gaze met yours, and for a second, the world seemed to slow again. There was a flicker of something behind his playful smirk—a softness, a warmth that made your chest tighten.

"Not bad," he said quietly, his voice teasing but layered with something else, something almost unreadable.

You tried to steady your breath, forcing a grin to match his. "Not bad yourself."

As you turned back to the group, the cheers and teasing chatter filled the air, but your mind lingered on the kiss. You couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something about it had felt undeniably real—and by the way Mingyu’s hand brushed against yours as he moved to grab a drink, you wondered if he might have felt the same.

*

The shoot for the next episode had wrapped up, but the atmosphere off-camera was far from celebratory. A lingering tension buzzed in the air, and it all traced back to a bombshell dropped by Woorin, one of the female cast members, during a game.

“Are you two really a couple?” Woorin’s voice had cut through the lively chatter like a knife, her words laced with suspicion.

The question wasn’t lighthearted. Her tone carried weight, and the shift in the room was immediate. The other cast members exchanged glances, while the production crew subtly stopped what they were doing, their attention now laser-focused on you and Mingyu.

You exchanged a fleeting look with Mingyu, your heart pounding. You both knew this question might come up eventually, but not like this. Mingyu was the first to speak, his voice steady despite the pressure.

“Of course, we are,” he said with a confident smile, wrapping an arm around your shoulders for good measure. “Why would we fake something like that?”

But Woorin wasn’t convinced. “Really?” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Because I heard something… interesting.”

Your stomach dropped as Woorin leaned forward, her demeanor more like a detective than a reality show cast member.

"You know,” Woorin said, her voice calm but calculated as she glanced between you and Mingyu. “This whole act of yours? It’s really convincing. Almost too convincing. Especially considering… you two are exes.”

Her words hung in the air like a storm cloud. The other cast members froze, their eyes darting between you and Mingyu. The production crew exchanged worried glances, unsure whether to keep filming or intervene.

You felt the blood drain from your face. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked at Mingyu, who seemed equally caught off guard.

“What are you talking about?” Mingyu asked, his tone attempting nonchalance, though his jaw tightened.

Woorin smirked, clearly enjoying the drama. “Oh, come on,” she said. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out. A little digging, a chat with some mutual acquaintances… and voilà. You two used to date, didn’t you?”

The silence that followed was deafening. The cast members leaned in, their curiosity piqued. Even the cameras seemed to loom closer, capturing every flicker of emotion on your faces.

Finally, you found your voice. “That’s none of your business,” you said firmly, trying to regain control of the situation.

“But it is everyone’s business, isn’t it?” Woorin countered, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been parading around as this perfect couple for the cameras. Don’t you think the audience deserves to know the truth?”

The director immediately called for a break, and the cameras were turned off. The producer stormed onto the set, pulling you and Mingyu aside for an emergency meeting.

Inside a quiet room, the producer’s expression was a mix of frustration and concern. “Is it true?” they asked, their voice low but intense. “Were you two in a relationship before this show?”

You hesitated, your gaze darting to Mingyu. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before nodding. “Yes,” he admitted. “We dated. But it was a long time ago.”

“How long ago?” the producer pressed.

“A year ago,” you said quietly. “It ended on good terms. We’re just… friends now.”

The producer let out a deep breath, pacing the room. “This is a nightmare,” they muttered. “If this gets out, it’ll overshadow the entire show. The audience will think everything’s staged.”

Mingyu stepped forward, his voice steady. “We didn’t plan this to deceive anyone. We’ve been doing our best to play our roles and keep things professional.”

The producer stopped pacing, their gaze sharp. “Professional? You call this professional? Woorin just uncovered your past in front of everyone. How are we supposed to recover from this?”

“We’ll handle it,” you said, your voice stronger now. “We’ll find a way to address it without ruining the show.”

The producer shook their head but finally relented. “Fine. But we’re going to need a strategy. You two need to be on the same page, and no more surprises.”

As the meeting ended, you and Mingyu were left alone in the room, the weight of the revelation pressing down on both of you.

Mingyu finally spoke, his voice soft. “I didn’t think Woorin would dig that deep.”

“Neither did I,” you admitted, leaning against the wall. “But now that it’s out, we have to figure out what to do.”

Mingyu looked at you, his expression serious. “We’ve been convincing so far. Maybe we can still turn this around.”

You nodded, though your mind was racing. “We don’t have a choice,” you said. “We either control the narrative or let it control us.”

Mingyu smiled faintly, a flicker of determination in his eyes. “Then let’s give them a story they’ll never forget."

*

Mingyu decided to stay at your place after the chaotic shoot, both of you desperate to pitch a salvageable story to the production team. The stakes were high, and the tension between you two was palpable, though you masked it with humor and exhaustion.

“He threatened to kick us off the show, Y/n! What about our money?” Mingyu groaned dramatically, flopping onto the couch beside you like a deflated balloon.

You rubbed your face, equally frustrated. “Min Woorin must be insanely jealous to dig that deep into our past. I mean, I didn’t even talk to her boyfriend. It’s not my fault he’s the one trying to be overly friendly with me!”

Mingyu nodded vehemently, his annoyance bubbling to the surface. “Exactly! That Juyoung bastard couldn’t stop staring at your butt the entire time. I swear, I’ll kick him in the face the next time he even glances your way!”

A moment of silence settled between you, both of you letting out a deep sigh in unison, the absurdity of the situation hitting you like a wave.

“What should we do, Mingyu?” you asked, your voice softer now, tinged with worry.

Mingyu raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “This wasn’t part of the plan, Y/n. Getting caught? That wasn’t in the cards.”

You leaned into his shoulder, seeking some sort of comfort. “Neither was this for me,” you murmured.

After a beat, you spoke again, your voice laced with hesitation. “Should we just… be honest about our story? I mean, if the audience reacts well, I’m pretty sure the producers will let us stay.”

Mingyu sighed deeply, his arm instinctively draping over your shoulders. “And what exactly is so interesting about our past story, huh?”

You tilted your head to look at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “The fact that you were completely obsessed with me?”

Mingyu snorted, his lips twitching into a smirk. “And you, who kept disappearing on me for a job that eventually fired you? Real romantic, Y/n.”

You jolted upright, indignantly slapping his arm. “Hey! That was not my fault!”

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head as you settled back into your spot, leaning against him again. His teasing tone softened. “I’m kidding, Y/n. Relax.”

A quiet stillness filled the room as both of you let the exhaustion seep in. “Let’s sleep on it,” Mingyu finally said, his voice low and steady. “We’ll figure out what to say to the producer tomorrow.”

Before you could respond, he wrapped his arm tighter around you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. It was so natural, so instinctive, that neither of you questioned it.

The weight of the day melted away as you both closed your eyes, the warmth of his presence lulling you to sleep. Without even realizing it, the two of you fell asleep together on the couch, tangled in a quiet understanding and comfort that only the two of you could share.

The next morning, you and Mingyu were summoned to an emergency meeting with the production team. Both of you arrived feeling uneasy, expecting the worst after the events of the previous day. However, to your immense relief, the team had come up with a new, more thrilling storyline to salvage the situation.

“We’ve decided to take a different approach,” the producer began, glancing between the two of you. “We’re going to reveal that you and Mingyu aren’t actually a couple. Instead, you’ve been part of an undercover mission to test the other couples’ loyalty.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Mingyu, the tension in your shoulders easing as the producer continued.

“This means that from the very start, there were only three real couples,” the producer explained, leaning forward with an air of excitement. “Your role will now be to challenge the loyalty and trust between the cast members and their partners, adding a layer of drama and intrigue to the show.”

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what happens if none of them survive the tests?”

The producer’s lips curled into a sly smile. “If no couple manages to stay together by the end, the two of you will win the prize money.”

You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at the audacity of the new twist. “So, we’re basically the villains now?” you asked, tilting your head as you tried to process the sudden shift.

“Not villains,” the producer clarified, though their tone suggested otherwise. “Think of yourselves as catalysts for truth. You’re here to reveal the cracks in their relationships—or prove their strength, if they can survive.”

You groaned in frustration as Mingyu drove the two of you home. The sound startled him, and he jolted slightly in his seat.

“What’s wrong? You’re scaring me!” Mingyu exclaimed, glancing at you with wide eyes.

“Won’t we look like villains?” you blurted out, the weight of your earlier decision sinking in. “We’re going to break somebody’s relationship, Mingyu!” You slapped his arm lightly in protest, and Mingyu winced dramatically.

“Think about the prize, Y/n,” he countered, his voice calm yet persuasive. “You said it yourself—you need the money to start your design studio. This is our chance!”

You slumped back in your seat, letting out a defeated sigh. “You’re right,” you muttered, though the guilt still gnawed at the edges of your resolve.

“But it’s still so wrong, Gyu!!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up.

Mingyu smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement as he processed what you had just called him. “Wait, did you just call me 'Gyu'?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s your name. Kim Min Gyu. What else would I call you?”

He let out a hearty laugh, his tone tinged with nostalgia. “But you haven’t called me 'Gyu' since we broke up. No one ever says it the way you do—so affectionately.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I know, right? I’m just so naturally affectionate,” you quipped, your sarcasm barely masking the flicker of emotion in your voice.

Mingyu chuckled, clearly amused by your reaction. Without thinking, he reached over and pinched your cheek gently. “You’re so dramatic sometimes,” he teased, though there was a softness in his tone that made your chest tighten.

For a moment, silence filled the car, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was heavy with unspoken words, memories bubbling to the surface.

“Sometimes, I wonder why we broke up,” Mingyu murmured, his voice quieter now, tinged with regret.

You turned to look at him, your expression unreadable, before letting your gaze drift out the window. “Hm…” you hummed softly, as if lost in thought.

The air between you thickened with a mix of nostalgia, unresolved feelings, and the undeniable bond you shared. Neither of you said another word, but the weight of his question lingered in the car, refusing to be ignored.

As the car rolled to a stop outside your apartment building, you stayed quiet, your mind racing. Mingyu's words echoed in your head.

“Sometimes, I wonder why we broke up.”

It was such a simple sentence, yet it carried so much weight. You had been so sure you’d moved past what you and Mingyu had—so sure your relationship was part of a chapter you’d closed. But sitting beside him now, feeling the warmth of his presence and hearing the softness in his voice, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart stirred.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He was humming under his breath, his fingers lightly drumming on the steering wheel. The casualness of it all—the ease in which he fit into your life, even after everything—confused you.

Why does it still feel so natural?

“Y/n?” Mingyu’s voice broke through your thoughts. You blinked, realizing he had already turned off the car and was looking at you with concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly, forcing a small smile. But the truth was, you weren’t sure if you were okay. Not with the way your feelings were starting to shift.

Inside your apartment, the atmosphere was quieter, but your mind wasn’t. Mingyu helped you unpack the stuff from the shoot, his usual playful banter filling the space. He teased you about the way you had tripped during the game, mocked your competitive streak, and even reenacted how he "heroically" protected his sticker during the chase.

You laughed, but the sound felt hollow to you. Because as he moved around your living room, so comfortably as if he had never left, you felt your chest tighten again.

You hadn’t let yourself think about Mingyu this way in a long time. After the breakup, you buried the memories of him deep, convincing yourself it was better that way. But now, those memories were resurfacing—his laugh, his protectiveness, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he cared about.

And the way he had looked at you earlier in the car—like he still saw the world in you.

“Hey, Y/n,” Mingyu called, snapping his fingers in front of your face. You hadn’t realized you were staring at him.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been spacing out all evening,” he said, sitting beside you on the couch. He leaned closer, his face just inches from yours. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

Your heart skipped. He always knew how to read you too well, and that was terrifying.

“Nothing,” you lied, breaking eye contact. “Just tired.”

But as Mingyu leaned back, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, you knew it wasn’t nothing. Not anymore.

Because the feelings you thought you’d buried were resurfacing, blooming into something unfamiliar—something you weren’t sure you wanted to name yet. And sitting there beside Mingyu, you realized that no matter how much you tried to deny it, he was starting to become more than just your ex.

*

It was late afternoon, and Mingyu sat in a quiet corner of a chic café, laptop open as he skimmed through his emails. His attempt to juggle his business responsibilities with the chaos of the reality show had been taxing, but today’s meeting was a necessary step in keeping his plans on track.

The café door chimed, and Mingyu glanced up. A man entered, exuding quiet confidence. He was dressed sharply, his every movement composed and deliberate. Mingyu recognized him immediately—Wonwoo, the ex you had mentioned during the shoot, the one who had left a lasting impression on you.

Mingyu’s jaw tightened as Wonwoo approached. Of all the people he could have had a business meeting with, it had to be him.

“Kim Mingyu,” Wonwoo greeted as he extended a hand, his tone polite but distant.

Mingyu stood, shaking Wonwoo’s hand. “Jeon Wonwoo. Thanks for making the time.”

The two men settled into their seats, the conversation starting off professionally. Mingyu kept his tone measured, his questions direct, but he couldn’t help the nagging thoughts that crept in.

This was the man who had been with you for three years. The man you couldn’t fully let go of, even when Mingyu had been in your life. Mingyu hated how easily those thoughts consumed him now.

As their discussion moved forward, Mingyu noticed something about Wonwoo that made him uneasy. The man was calm, composed, and had a way of speaking that drew people in—traits that Mingyu knew had probably captivated you once.

Toward the end of the meeting, Wonwoo leaned back, his gaze steady on Mingyu. “So,” he started casually, “you’re working with Y/n on this reality show, right?”

Mingyu stiffened, his hand tightening slightly on his coffee cup. “Yeah. What about it?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Wonwoo’s lips. “Just curious how she’s doing. It’s been a while since we talked.”

Mingyu’s eyes narrowed. “She’s fine. Doing great, actually.”

Wonwoo nodded, his expression unreadable. “Good to hear. She always had a way of pushing through tough situations. Guess that’s why she stuck with me for as long as she did.”

The words were light, but they hit Mingyu like a punch. He forced himself to stay composed, but his frustration bubbled beneath the surface.

“Y/n’s strong, no thanks to anyone else,” Mingyu replied, his tone sharper than intended.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, but instead of responding, he simply smiled. “Interesting.”

As Mingyu sat in his car after the meeting with Wonwoo, the weight of unspoken emotions pressed heavily on his chest. The encounter had been professional on the surface, but beneath the veneer of polite conversation, a storm brewed within him.

Mingyu had always prided himself on being confident—bold even. But something about seeing Wonwoo, the man who had been such a significant part of your life, unraveled him in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

He couldn’t shake the image of Wonwoo’s calm demeanor, the way he carried himself with an air of assurance. It made Mingyu feel... small. He hated it. The jealousy gnawed at him, an unfamiliar and bitter taste he couldn’t ignore.

"He’s the kind of guy people don’t forget," Mingyu thought bitterly, gripping the steering wheel tighter. The words Wonwoo had said about you—how strong you were, how you’d stuck with him—echoed in his mind, fueling an insecurity he didn’t want to admit existed.

"Did you love him more than me?"

The question haunted him, the one he asked during the last time you were together. It wasn’t just about love—it was about lasting impact. Mingyu couldn’t bear the idea that, even after all this time, Wonwoo might still hold a place in your heart.

The drive home was silent, save for the sound of his uneven breathing. His mind raced through memories of your relationship—your laughter, the way you used to look at him like he was your entire world. Somewhere along the way, he had lost that, hadn’t he? He had let you slip through his fingers, and now he was left grappling with the fear that maybe, just maybe, someone else had filled the void he’d left behind.

Somehow he found himself in your way into your apartment and saw you sitting there, looking up at him with surprise, the storm inside him reached its peak. He hadn’t planned to confront you, but the words spilled out before he could stop them.

“Do you still think about Wonwoo?”

The question hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. Mingyu’s heart pounded as he watched your reaction. The way your eyes widened told him you hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to be so vulnerable, so shaken.

But he couldn’t hold it back anymore. The encounter with Wonwoo had forced him to face something he’d been avoiding: his growing feelings for you. They weren’t the same as they’d been before, during your relationship. This time, they were deeper, more desperate, tinged with the fear of losing you again.

“It matters to me,” he said, his voice unsteady. “Because I don’t know where I stand with you. And seeing him—hearing about your history—it made me realize how much I hate the idea of not being enough.”

He felt exposed, like he’d just ripped open his chest and laid his heart bare. Mingyu had never been good at admitting his insecurities, but with you, it was different. You had always been different.

As you reassured him, your words sinking into his heart like a balm, Mingyu felt the tension begin to ease. But even as relief washed over him, there was still a lingering ache—a reminder of how much he wanted to prove himself to you. Not just as someone you had loved before, but as the person you could love again.

For Mingyu, it wasn’t just about rekindling what you’d had. It was about building something stronger, something unshakable. And in that moment, as he looked into your eyes, he silently vowed to do whatever it took to earn that place in your heart again.

*

The memory played vividly in Mingyu's mind as he sat in silence, staring blankly at his reflection in the car window. It was a conversation from a year ago, back when the cracks in your relationship had just begun to show—back when he still didn’t understand the weight you carried.

The words he’d overheard echoed in his mind, carving a painful clarity he hadn’t been prepared for. The reason behind your relentless work ethic—the late nights, the unwavering drive—had never made sense to him before. But now, as the pieces fell into place, the weight of it all hit him like a punch to the gut.

It was because of Wonwoo.

You had loved him enough to change yourself, to push yourself beyond limits, all in the hope of becoming what his family deemed "worthy." The thought of you, the bright, fierce person he knew, bending under the weight of someone else’s expectations was enough to make Mingyu’s chest tighten. He hated it—hated the idea of you sacrificing so much only to be rejected.

The mention of your broken engagement felt like a dagger twisting in his heart. An engagement. He hadn’t known things had been that serious between you and Wonwoo. It wasn’t just a fleeting romance or a long-term relationship—it was a promise of forever, one that had been shattered by people who had no right to decide your worth.

Mingyu’s hands clenched into fists on his lap as he recalled the times he’d teased you about your workaholic tendencies. He’d never realized there was a deeper pain driving you, a history that had left invisible scars. Now, knowing the truth, he felt an ache in his chest—part anger at Wonwoo and his family, part regret for not understanding you sooner.

When he saw you later that evening, sitting at your desk with your laptop open, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

"Y/n," he called softly, his voice unusually subdued.

You glanced up, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. "What is it?"

Mingyu hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching yours. He saw the weariness in your eyes, the traces of a past you rarely talked about. Taking a deep breath, he moved closer and crouched beside your chair.

"I heard about... Wonwoo," he said quietly, watching your expression carefully.

Your eyes widened, and for a moment, he saw the walls go up, the instinctive way you guarded yourself when the past came up. "Who told you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"It doesn’t matter," Mingyu replied, his hand resting lightly on your knee. "What matters is that I know now. And I’m sorry."

You frowned, confusion flickering across your face. "Sorry for what?"

"For not understanding sooner," he said, his voice tinged with frustration—at himself, at the situation. "For not realizing why you work so hard. I thought it was just ambition, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? You were trying to prove yourself to someone who didn’t deserve you."

Your lips parted as if to argue, but the emotion in Mingyu’s gaze stopped you. He shook his head slightly.

"Don’t defend him," Mingyu said softly. "Don’t defend a man who let his family’s opinion dictate his love for you. You deserve better than that, Y/n. You always have."

Mingyu felt a lump form in his throat as he watched you, the pain in your eyes piercing through him. He reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on yours.

"Y/n," he said softly, his voice steady despite the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. "You didn’t have to change yourself for anyone. Not for him, not for his family. They were blind if they couldn’t see how amazing you are."

You turned to him, your gaze searching his, and for a moment, Mingyu thought he saw a flicker of hope in your eyes. But then, you smiled—a sad, resigned smile.

"Maybe," you said quietly. "But it doesn’t change the fact that I wasn’t enough for him."

Mingyu opened his mouth to argue, to tell you that you were more than enough, that Wonwoo’s loss was his greatest mistake. But the words caught in his throat, because deep down, he wondered if he was any different.

He squeezed your hand gently, his heart aching as he whispered, "You’re enough for me."

You didn’t respond right away, your eyes dropping to where his hand rested on yours. And though you didn’t pull away, Mingyu couldn’t shake the feeling that you were already slipping through his fingers.

It was a moment he would replay over and over in his mind, long after the breakup—wondering if he could have done more, said more, to keep you from walking away.

*

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife as you stood by the refreshment table, filling your glass with water. Mingyu was off to the side, chatting with one of the cast members, but his eyes flicked over to you every few seconds, always keeping an eye on you.

That’s when you heard the sharp click of heels against the tiled floor. You turned just in time to see Woorin storming toward you, her face a mix of anger and hurt.

"Y/n!" she snapped, her voice loud enough to make heads turn. Before you could respond, she raised her hand, and the sound of the slap echoed in the room.

You staggered back, your hand flying to your cheek in shock. Gasps erupted from the surrounding cast and crew as everyone froze, unsure of what to do.

"What the hell, Woorin?!" Mingyu's voice roared across the room as he rushed to your side, placing himself between you and Woorin. His protective stance was immediate, his broad shoulders shielding you from her.

"She deserves it!" Woorin spat, her voice trembling with rage. "Do you think I don’t know? Juyoung’s been flirting with her—my boyfriend—and she just stands there like she’s innocent!"

Mingyu’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkened with fury. "Don’t you dare blame her for your boyfriend’s behavior," he growled. "If he’s flirting with someone else, that’s on him—not her."

Before Woorin could reply, Juyoung stepped forward, his face pale but determined. "Woorin, stop this," he said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension. "You’re overreacting."

"Overreacting?" Woorin turned on him, her voice breaking. "You’ve been flirting with her since day one, Juyoung! Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at her!"

Juyoung sighed, his frustration evident. "I haven’t been flirting with anyone! You’re making something out of nothing."

"Nothing?!" Woorin’s voice rose again. "How about the way you kept standing near her during the games, or how you laugh at everything she says? Even your friend said you couldn’t stop talking about her before the show started!"

Juyoung groaned, running a hand through his hair. "You’re twisting things, Woorin. I’m just being polite and friendly. It’s a competition—we’re supposed to interact with everyone!"

Woorin’s tears spilled over as she pointed an accusing finger at him. "Polite? Friendly? You’ve ignored me for days and acted like I don’t exist, but you have time to chat with her?!"

"Enough!" Mingyu barked, his voice sharp and commanding. "This isn’t the time or place for your relationship issues. Don’t drag Y/n into this."

Juyoung raised his hands defensively, his eyes darting between Mingyu and Woorin. "I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m not interested in Y/Nln that way—she’s not even my type!"

The words stung, though you weren’t sure why. You held your tongue, your cheek still throbbing from the slap, as Woorin scoffed. "Oh, now you’re backpedaling. How convenient!"

Mingyu stepped closer to Juyoung, his presence looming. "You’ve said enough," he said coldly. "If you’re not interested in her, make that clear to Woorin and leave Y/n out of your mess."

Juyoung nodded hesitantly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Fine. Woorin, can we talk about this privately?"

Woorin hesitated, her anger simmering but waning. She cast one last glare in your direction before turning on her heel and storming out, with Juyoung reluctantly following her.

The room buzzed with whispered conversations as Mingyu turned back to you, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch your arms. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low and filled with concern.

You nodded, though your cheek still stung. "I’m fine," you murmured, but your voice betrayed the slight tremble in your chest.

Mingyu frowned, his hand moving to cup your face as he examined the red mark. "She had no right to do that," he said, his tone still simmering with anger.

"I know," you replied, your eyes meeting his. "But I can’t blame her for feeling hurt. Juyoung—"

"Juyoung’s an idiot," Mingyu interrupted, his voice firm. "And so is anyone else who can’t see how incredible you are without needing to blame you for their problems."

His words struck something deep inside you, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away. Mingyu’s thumb brushed gently over your cheek, as if he could erase the sting of Woorin’s slap with his touch.

As the evening wore on, the atmosphere in the studio remained tense, with everyone still recovering from the incident with Woorin and Juyoung. But it seemed like there was no end to the drama. You noticed Suji walking over to Mingyu, her movements deliberate, her laughter just a little too loud. She stood a bit too close, touching his arm as she spoke, her eyes lingering on him in a way that didn’t sit well with you. You shifted in your seat, feeling an uncomfortable knot form in your stomach.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Minho standing off to the side, his gaze fixed on the pair. His posture was rigid, his eyes narrowed, clearly irritated by what he was seeing.

He didn't wait long before he made his way toward you, his expression serious. When he reached you, he didn't mince words. "Y/n," Minho started, his voice low but urgent. "I need to talk to you about Mingyu."

You raised an eyebrow, confused. "What about him?" you asked, glancing at Mingyu, who was still talking to Suji. His body language seemed polite, but there was a stiffness in it that made you wonder.

Minho hesitated, his eyes briefly flickering over to the pair again. "Suji," he said, his voice almost a warning. "She’s been trying to get his attention for a while now. She’s… impulsive, and honestly, I don’t think Mingyu understands how far she’ll go to get it."

You frowned, the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. Suji was Minho’s girlfriend. "You think Suji’s flirting with Mingyu?" you asked, feeling a mixture of concern and confusion.

Minho nodded, his voice dropping lower as he stepped closer. "She doesn’t know when to stop, and she’s not as innocent as she looks. I’m telling you this because I care about both of you, and I know Suji can be manipulative when she wants something. She’s been acting like this for a while now, and I don’t want Mingyu getting caught up in it."

You glanced at Mingyu again. Suji was still leaning in, laughing a bit too much, her fingers lingering on his arm. You couldn’t deny the tightness that curled in your chest. Was she really pushing him in that direction? Was Mingyu even aware of what was going on?

"What do you want me to do?" you asked, your voice uncertain. Minho’s warning was ringing in your head, but you weren’t sure how to handle it.

"I think you should talk to him," Minho said, his eyes filled with concern. "Suji won’t back off easily. I just don’t want Mingyu to get blindsided, especially with everything else going on."

You nodded slowly, trying to process everything Minho had just said. "I’ll talk to him. Thanks for the heads-up, Minho."

Minho gave you a brief nod, his expression softening. "Just look out for him, Y/n. I know it’s complicated, but you’re the one who can get through to him. Just… make sure he doesn’t fall for her games."

You watched him walk away, but your attention immediately went back to Mingyu and Suji. There was no denying the way Suji was behaving, and you could feel that knot tightening in your chest. You knew you had to talk to Mingyu about it, but would he listen? Would he see the situation the same way?

With a deep breath, you made up your mind. You had to have this conversation with him before it spiraled any further.

*

The drive to Mingyu's house was quiet, the usual hum of conversation replaced by the low rumble of the car's engine. The tension from the day’s events still hung in the air, and it wasn’t lost on either of you. Mingyu’s grip on the wheel tightened, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

As you approached his house, you couldn’t shake the conversation with Minho from your mind. You needed to talk to Mingyu about what had happened, especially considering how closely he and Suji had been interacting. But how could you bring it up without it sounding like you were overreacting?

Finally, as he pulled into the driveway, you broke the silence. "Mingyu," you began carefully, watching him glance at you briefly. "There’s something I need to tell you about Suji."

He raised an eyebrow as he turned off the engine, but he didn’t look entirely surprised. "What about her?" he asked, his voice casual but with an undercurrent of curiosity.

You sighed, feeling the weight of Minho’s warning pressing down on you. "Minho talked to me earlier. He said Suji’s been acting a bit too… familiar with you. Like, she’s been trying to get your attention, and he’s worried she might be more manipulative than she seems."

Mingyu’s expression shifted, though it wasn’t one of defensiveness. It was more like he was processing the information. After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice a little quieter than usual. "I’ve noticed it too," he admitted. "Suji’s been a little too clingy recently. But I don’t think she means anything by it. She’s just… been really forward. I’m trying to keep things respectful, but it’s hard when she doesn’t back off."

You felt a mix of relief and frustration. On one hand, you were glad Mingyu didn’t seem completely oblivious to the situation. On the other, you didn’t want him to brush it off too easily. "I just want to make sure you’re not caught off guard, Gyu," you said, using the nickname almost instinctively. "Suji can be pretty impulsive, and she’s done this before, according to Minho. She won’t stop until she gets what she wants."

Mingyu let out a deep breath, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. "I get it, Y/n. I’ll keep my distance. It’s just… hard when she’s constantly around, and I don’t want to make things awkward, you know?"

You nodded, appreciating his understanding. "Just be careful. You don’t owe her anything, and I don’t want to see you get dragged into her games."

He gave you a small smile. "Thanks for looking out for me. I promise I’ll handle it."

With that, you both stepped out of the car, walking toward the door of Mingyu’s house. As you entered, you quickly gathered the few things that had ended up in his luggage after the last shoot. You could feel Mingyu’s eyes on you, and the silence between you seemed heavier now, like there was more to be said but neither of you was quite ready to speak it.

Once you were done, you followed him into the living room where he sat on the couch, clearly still processing everything from the day. It felt like everything was slowly unraveling — the complexities with the cast, the personal dynamics, and the ever-present tension that seemed to follow you both. Mingyu’s gaze was distant, his mind clearly still processing everything. Then, without thinking, you spoke again, breaking the silence that had comfortably enveloped you.

"You know, Gyu," you started, your voice quieter than before, "I haven’t thought about Wonwoo in a long time."

Mingyu's head snapped toward you, eyes widening slightly. The mention of his name had been unexpected, a slip of your tongue. You could see the surprise in Mingyu’s face, but there was also a flicker of something else — curiosity, maybe, or perhaps something deeper.

"I mean," you continued, trying to gather your thoughts, "I know it sounds strange, but after everything… after all the mess with our past, I just realized I haven't really thought about him in a while. Like, I don't dwell on what happened anymore."

Mingyu didn’t immediately respond, his eyes focused on you now, studying your face carefully. You could tell he was trying to process this, the idea that you were finally letting go of the past.

"That’s... different," Mingyu finally said, his voice tentative. He shifted slightly on the couch, his arm brushing against yours.

"His shadow was constantly over me, even when I was with you. But now... I guess I just don’t feel it anymore. I can’t even imagine going back to him."

Mingyu didn’t speak right away, his gaze steady as if he was carefully choosing his words. His hand moved slowly, then rested on the space between you both, his fingers brushing against yours.

"I’m glad you feel that way," he said softly, his voice carrying a mix of relief and something else, something unspoken. "I think... I think I’m glad you’ve come to this point. I can’t change your past, Y/n, and I won’t try to. But I want you to know that I’m here. I’m here for you — no matter what happened with Wonwoo or anyone else."

The sincerity in his words wrapped around you like a warm embrace. It was clear, though, that Mingyu had always been there, but this was different — more honest, more grounded.

"You’ve been so patient with me, Gyu," you said, your voice catching slightly, the emotions you had been keeping at bay bubbling up. "I don’t know what I did to deserve that."

Mingyu smiled softly, his thumb gently brushing against your hand. "You don’t need to do anything, Y/n. I’m not doing this because I feel obligated or anything. I’m here because I want to be." His eyes met yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

It was a shift in the air — a change that neither of you had expected. What had started as a complicated relationship, tangled with unresolved feelings and past wounds, now felt different. The emotional weight was still there, but there was a new layer to it — something that felt like it could build into something else, something neither of you had anticipated.

The quiet lingered, and the air between you both seemed to crackle with unspoken emotions. You could feel the weight of his gaze, the steady rhythm of his breath, as if he was waiting for something. It was almost as if the universe had conspired for this moment, and you both could no longer ignore it.

Mingyu slowly leaned in, his fingers still lightly brushing against yours, and you could feel his warmth draw closer. There was an uncertainty in the way he moved, but it wasn’t hesitation. It was as if he, too, was giving you space to decide, to let you know if you were ready for this next step.

Your heart raced, and for a moment, you wondered if you should pull back, but something inside you urged you to stay. Mingyu had always been someone you could rely on, someone who, even through the ups and downs, had never wavered in his support for you. And now, in the stillness of the moment, there was only one thing you could do — let him in.

You didn’t pull away as his face inched closer, his lips just a breath away from yours. His eyes flickered to yours, searching, asking without words if you were ready. The tension between you both seemed to thicken with each passing second.

And then, as if he couldn’t wait any longer, Mingyu closed the gap, his lips pressing gently against yours. The kiss was soft at first, slow and tender, as if he were asking for permission to dive deeper into the connection between you two. His hand moved to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss.

The world seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you. Every touch, every brush of his lips against yours, felt more intense than the last. His kiss was a mixture of everything — of comfort, of longing, of a deep connection that neither of you had expected but were now willing to explore.

As the kiss deepened, you felt yourself respond instinctively, your body leaning into his, your hands resting on his chest. The warmth between you both was undeniable, and for the first time, you let go of everything else — your past, your insecurities, your doubts. In this moment, it was just Mingyu and you.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your hearts racing in sync. Mingyu rested his forehead against yours, his hands still holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.

"Y/n..." he whispered, his voice low and filled with emotion. "I’ve never stopped caring about you, you know that, right?"

You nodded, your fingers still resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "I know, Gyu," you whispered back.

The air between you two thickened, the energy palpable as Mingyu’s lips returned to yours with renewed urgency. The softness that once lingered turned into something more desperate, as if all the tension between you both was finally being released in that moment. His hands slid down your sides, pulling you closer to him, and you felt every inch of his body pressing against yours.

The kiss grew heated, the warmth of his lips and the feel of his body against you making your pulse quicken. His hand rested at the small of your back, pressing you even further into him as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that left you breathless.

Mingyu’s body hovered above yours, the weight of him both comforting and thrilling. His hands roamed, tracing the curve of your waist, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin just beneath your ribcage. You gasped slightly at the touch, the sensation sending a ripple of warmth through you, and you instinctively arched into him, eager for more.

He broke away from the kiss, his breath ragged as he looked down at you, eyes darkened with desire. His gaze flickered to your lips, and then to your eyes, searching for some kind of sign — a sign that you were okay, that you were still with him in this moment.

Mingyu’s lips found yours again, but this time the kiss was deeper, more intense, filled with an intensity neither of you had expected. His hands moved to your hips, lifting you just enough for him to settle closer, his body now pressing firmly against yours. The heat between you two grew, and it was impossible to deny how much you wanted him.

His lips trailed down to your neck, his kisses burning against your skin. You shivered beneath him, your hands gripping his shoulders as the heat between you two escalated. Every touch, every movement, every shared breath seemed to make everything else fade away, leaving only the two of you in that moment, completely consumed by each other.

Mingyu pulled off his t-shirt in one fluid motion, and your hands instinctively reached for him, your fingers brushing against the familiar warmth of his skin. His toned muscles tensed under your touch, and for a brief moment, he paused, his darkened eyes locking with yours as though he were savoring the moment.

His hands worked with practiced ease, sliding your top over your head and unclasping your bra with the kind of confidence that only came from familiarity. His fingers brushed against your bare skin as he traced the contours of your body, a reverence in his touch that sent shivers cascading down your spine.

Leaning down, his lips brushed over your collarbone, trailing a line of slow, deliberate kisses to the swell of your chest. You gasped softly as his mouth made contact, the heat of his touch igniting something deep within you.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmured against your skin, his voice filled with awe and a sense of rediscovery. "You’ve always been beautiful."

With an almost effortless motion, his hands moved to unbutton your pants, sliding them down your legs in one smooth gesture, leaving only the delicate fabric of your underwear between you. His hands lingered, as though memorizing every inch of you, his gaze sweeping over you with a mix of desire and admiration.

Before you could fully process the moment, Mingyu’s strong arms scooped you up, lifting you off the couch as though you weighed nothing. The ease with which he carried you was both thrilling and grounding, his grip firm yet gentle. He held you close to his chest, his heartbeat pounding in rhythm with yours as he walked toward his bedroom.

When he reached the bed, he laid you down with care, his eyes never leaving yours. His lips claimed yours again, this time with an intensity that left no room for hesitation. His kisses grew deeper, more urgent, as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear.

The sensation of his touch against your most sensitive skin drew a soft moan from your lips, the sound muffled by his kiss. Every movement felt like a promise, every touch a reminder of the connection you once shared and the emotions that still lingered between you.

Mingyu pulled back just enough to look at you, his face filled with longing and tenderness. His thumb brushed against your cheek as he whispered, "Tell me if it’s too much. I need you to feel safe with me."

Your breath hitched, overwhelmed by the mix of his words and the fire igniting between you. "I trust you," you whispered, the words carrying more weight than you realized.

His lips captured yours again, his touch growing bolder yet remaining respectful of your boundaries, as though rediscovering the delicate balance between passion and care that only he seemed to know how to navigate.

As Mingyu pulled back slightly, his forehead resting gently against yours, the space between you both felt charged with a quiet intensity. His breath came in shallow bursts, and for a moment, everything was still— except for the rhythmic beat of your heart. He looked at you with micture of reverance and affection, the weight of the moment settling between you both.

"Are you sure?" He whispered, his voice soft, laced with the same desired that had filled the air. His hands were gentle, as though he was waiting forya signal from, for any hesitation or doubt.

You nodded, a silent reassurance in your gaze. There was trust there, a bond that ran deeper than anywof the words or touched that had passed between you. In that moment, you knew he would never push you further than you were ready to go.

With that he found yours once more, tender and slow, as though savoring every second of the shared intimacy. The world outside seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you— silent connected and united in that moment.

*

After the show ended, you and Mingyu returned to the real world, not as winners of the grand prize but as something far more valuable — partners in both love and ambition. The cameras stopped rolling, the bright lights faded, but the bond you’d forged under their glare remained steady.

Life didn’t slow down for either of you. The buzz from the show brought a wave of attention. Companies, producers, and directors sent offers for TV appearances, brand deals, and interviews. It was tempting to ride the wave of fame, but both of you had bigger dreams.

You decided it was finally time to build the dream you’d put off for too long — your own advertising studio. With the influx of opportunities, you knew you had the leverage to pitch your ideas to major companies. Your days were filled with back-to-back meetings, portfolio revisions, and late nights spent sketching out concepts. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was yours. Every deal you closed felt like a victory. Every successful pitch fueled your belief that you were on the right path.

Mingyu’s path was equally ambitious. The show gave him visibility beyond the restaurant scene, branding him as more than just a chef or businessman — now, he was a figure people admired for his charisma and strategic mind. Invitations poured in for him to speak at business forums, guest on entrepreneurial podcasts, and even lead masterclasses for young entrepreneurs. At first, he hesitated. "I'm just a guy who wanted to make good food," he told you one night. But you reminded him, "And now you’re a guy teaching others how to dream bigger."

His growth was undeniable. His brand expanded, his restaurant saw more foot traffic than ever, and he even started mentoring up-and-coming chefs and small business owners. Seeing him lead discussions and inspire others only made you fall for him harder. He wasn’t just chasing success — he was building a legacy.

But success came with its own weight. Long hours apart, sleepless nights spent working on deadlines, and the occasional clash of schedules tested your relationship. Some nights, you’d find yourself sitting on the couch at midnight, laptop balanced on your knees, while Mingyu’s side of the bed remained empty until the early hours of the morning.

"Hey," he'd call softly from the doorway when he finally returned. He’d sit next to you, still smelling faintly of the kitchen or the cologne he wore for his TV appearance. “You should sleep.”

“Not yet,” you’d reply, eyes still on the screen.

“Then I’m staying up with you,” he’d say, wrapping an arm around you and resting his head on your shoulder. It didn’t matter how tired he was. He stayed.

You didn’t win the show’s prize, but you won each other. And in the grand scheme of things, that felt like the ultimate victory.

The second chance you gave each other wasn’t just about romance — it was about believing in your potential and supporting each other’s growth. Mingyu often joked that you were like his "favorite investment." You’d laugh, rolling your eyes, but deep down, you knew it was true.

On your one-year anniversary after the show, Mingyu surprised you by renting out a small art gallery to showcase the work of local artists — but at the center of it was a display dedicated to your journey together. Photos, clippings from interviews, and even a mock advertisement with the words “The Greatest Partnership” were displayed on a wall.

"Cheesy, right?" he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Cheesy,” you admitted, eyes welling up. “But it’s perfect.”

Second chances don’t come often, but when they do, they change everything.

"Y/n, Mingyu," Jiyeon started, tilting her head with a grin. "You two are probably one of the most talked-about duos from the show. Not just for your chemistry but for what you did after. Advertising studio, business empire — it's impressive, really. But I have to ask, did either of you see this coming?"

The interviewer, a sharp-witted woman named Jiyeon, sat across from you with a notepad resting on her knee, a pen twirling between her fingers. Her smile was relaxed but knowing, like she already had her headline written.

You glanced at Mingyu, letting out a soft breath that turned into a laugh. He tilted his head toward you, his eyes narrowing playfully. "Honestly, no. We went on that show thinking, 'Okay, let's win some money, maybe get a little publicity.' But life doesn’t always work out the way you plan."

You glanced at Mingyu, eyes crinkling with affection. "Sometimes, it works out better."

“Better, huh?” Mingyu teased, nudging your arm. "She’s just being nice. We were a mess on that show."

The room filled with light laughter from the crew.

Jiyeon leaned in, her eyes bright with curiosity. "Come on, tell me the truth. The whole world saw the way you two bickered. Was it strategy, or were there… feelings?" Her gaze was pointed but playful.

You raised an eyebrow, giving her a knowing smile. "Let’s just say it wasn’t strategy."

Mingyu let out a low laugh, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "There were feelings. A lot of them. I think at one point, I didn’t know if I wanted to win the challenge or just win an argument with her." He glanced at you, his grin softening. "Turns out, I wanted both."

Your eyes flicked to him, heart squeezing in your chest. The air around you grew a little quieter, more intimate, and Jiyeon caught it instantly.

“Power couple energy,” she said, grinning as she scribbled something in her notes. "But speaking of power, I have to say, you two are the definition of 'fake it till you make it.' Advertising studio, business brand, guest speaking gigs — you’ve built something big. What’s the secret?"

Mingyu scratched the back of his neck, his classic "I'm about to sound wise" move. “For me, it’s realizing that everyone’s faking it,” he said, his voice casual but firm. "No one has it all figured out, and once I accepted that, I stopped stressing so much about looking like I did. I just acted like I belonged, kept showing up, and one day, I realized — oh, I actually do belong here now."

The crew murmured their approval, a few heads nodding.

You nodded along with them, picking up where he left off. “For me, 'faking it' meant trusting that my ideas were good, even if I wasn’t sure. I pitched my first concept to a company with zero experience behind me, but I talked like I’d done it a hundred times. It’s scary, but sometimes, you have to believe in yourself before anyone else will.”

"That’s good," Jiyeon said, pointing at both of you with her pen. "I’m stealing that for the headline. Alright, last question before we wrap this up." She flipped through her notes, eyes scanning until she found something. Her gaze lifted with a spark of mischief. "Actually, I lied. I have one more thing before we finish."

You glanced at Mingyu, suspicious. "What do you mean, 'one more thing'?"

Jiyeon smiled like she’d been sitting on a secret all day. "Well, Mingyu told our team earlier that he had a little surprise planned for you."

Your eyes darted to him, your brow furrowed. "A surprise?"

Mingyu leaned back against the couch, arms stretched along the backrest, looking far too calm for someone who was clearly up to something. “Yeah,” he said, lips twitching like he was holding back a grin. "Figured now’s a good time."

You stared at him, heart starting to pick up its pace. "Kim Mingyu, if you’re about to prank me in front of all these people—"

He shook his head, grinning like an idiot now. "Nah, not a prank. I promise."

Then, casually — too casually — he reached into the inside pocket of his blazer. Your eyes tracked his hand, and for a second, you didn’t register what you were seeing. A small, velvet box.

Your breath hitched.

“No way,” you muttered, eyes widening as your hands shot up to cover your face.

The entire room gasped, someone behind the camera whispering, “Oh my God.”

Mingyu shifted forward, already on one knee, and suddenly, the world became a soft hum around you. It felt like the lights dimmed, the cameras faded away, and the only thing you could focus on was him.

He looked up at you, his grin now gone, replaced by something raw and steady. His fingers flipped the box open, revealing a simple but breathtaking ring.

“Y/n,” he started, voice low but clear. His eyes didn’t waver once from yours. “I’ve done a lot of big things in my life — joined a show, started a business, made decisions I wasn’t sure about. But you…” He exhaled, his smile small but full of certainty. "You’re the only decision I’ve never doubted. You make everything feel possible. You make me feel possible."

Tears gathered in your eyes, one slipping down your cheek before you could stop it. You didn’t care.

“I’m not gonna do the whole ‘I can’t live without you’ speech,” he went on, eyes crinkling as he fought back his own grin. "Because I can live without you. I just really, really, really don’t want to." His voice broke just a little, and he cleared his throat.

Your chest tightened, and your hands covered your face again.

“So, I’m done waiting,” he said, eyes locked on yours with all the love in the world. “Marry me, Y/n. Be my partner for real this time.”

Silence. You could hear the click of a camera.

But none of that mattered.

You nodded, pulling your hands away from your face as tears spilled freely. "Yes," you choked out, voice trembling as a laugh escaped with it. "Yes, absolutely yes."

He let out a breath of relief, a wide, boyish grin spreading across his face as he slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, like it had always been meant to be there.

When he stood, you barely had time to think before you threw your arms around him. His arms wrapped around you instantly, his hand cradling the back of your head as he laughed into your shoulder.

“You didn’t cry this much when we lost the show,” he teased, his voice rough but filled with affection.

“Shut up,” you mumbled into his neck, grinning so hard your cheeks hurt.

The crew erupted into cheers, the sound of applause and whistles filling the room. Cameras flashed as photographers captured every second, but you didn’t care about the cameras. You pulled back just enough to look at him, still teary-eyed but grinning like a fool.

“Power couple, huh?” you said, sniffling as you wiped your cheeks.

Mingyu smiled, leaning his forehead against yours. "Yeah," he whispered, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Power couple forever.”

Jiyeon sniffled loudly, wiping under her eyes with her sleeve. "Okay, I did not come here to cry at work," she muttered, waving at the camera crew to cut the recording. "But you two are officially my favorite couple ever."

“Thank you,” you said, voice still wobbly but full of joy.

Mingyu kissed your temple, his arm never once letting you go.

No cash prize, no reality show win, but somehow, you’d still won everything.

[shotmrmiller]

wait though because seriously. the boys share everything with each other.

(smut, be warned. this turned way too long thank @waves-against-a-cliff for this)

they share bedrolls and tents when they're stuck in the freezing cold during a mission.

they share canteens, mre's, cigarettes. (price is smoke snob so simon always carries a cigar or two for him)

they'll share a room in base when simon's not sleeping again due to his ptsd, or johnny's gone and gotten injured again. john slips into kyle's room sometimes just to remind himself that he didn't lose kyle when he fell out of the helo.

they share showers, too. sometimes in a safe house there's not enough hot water to go around 4 individuals, and other times they just need a hand that isn't their own wrapped around their neglected cocks. (simon mewls like a kitten when john fists him from behind, beard scraping on the junction of his shoulder as john gives him a peck or two on the neck)

they go on leave and stay together, too. simon and john are the ones who keep a home-- johnny and kyle sleep at whoever's they please; essentially living there as well.

then john gets a little bird, a sweet (much younger, simon notices) thing who's far too gentle and soft for gruff men like themselves, just a doting, kind girlfriend.

they share you too.

it hadn't really been hard to nudge you their direction, either. john's only ever sung praise of his crew, his boys.

johnny and kyle are the pretty ones-- it's completely normal that your eyes wandered from john to them when they visited. johnny's hand lingered a little too long on the small of your back when he needed to get past, the touch scalding even through your shirt, and kyle's gentle demeanor and warm smiles toward you never failed to get your heart racing. they were easily game.

simon had been a bit more of a challenge.

he'd been jealous of you, at first. of course someone full of life such as yourself would capture his captain's heart. a bright, burning star in comparison to him, a stellar remnant. he'd seethed when johnny had taken a picture of the both you and john asleep on the couch, him partially lying atop of you with his head firmly on your chest. simon can't even have light weight on him as he sleeps, lest he dreams that he's underground again, dirt clogging his mouth and nose as he claws himself back to the world of the living.

but john knows him better than he knows himself, and he'd nipped that issue in the bud-- slinked into simon's room in base and reassured him with a hand curled under his jaw that there is enough of him for everyone, and now you, too.

"what's mine is yours, simon. and that little morsel back home is mine."

john only brought it up the once, and how eager you'd been. so receptive to the idea of treating his boys the way they deserve. they haven't had much good in their life, he'd purred, but you'll be good, won't you?

yes, you'd jerkily nodded, so good, i swear.

they had you watch them first, just to not overwhelm you. meager handjobs and suggestive kisses to flushed skin. whispered promises of what's to come, playful nips to the ear. it went well enough, john observing how you rubbed your thighs together whenever one of them finally peaked over their own stomach.

then you interrupted their session, one day, asking if you could try to give one of them a hand (ha). the last time he came that hard, kyle had touched him under the table in a restaurant, in front of decent company.

he'd even spurted cum all the way up to his collarbone.

it upgraded quickly after that, any self doubt all but gone under their touch. fingers sunk and curled inside your throbbing cunt, squelching with each movement. john sat behind you, keeping you somewhat upright so you could just focus on their attention. johnny's warm mouth laved at your stiff nipple and kyle swallowed all of your moans.

johnny went first, rambunctious man that he was. he flipped you onto your knees and hilted in one smooth stroke. john stood by your side the entire time, his hands brushing away the damp hair that stuck to your forehead. "doin' so good, love." johnny's grip around your waist had been the only thing that kept you from sprawling forward with each heavy thrust.

kyle had gone next, and what you'd thought would've been a sensual missionary ended up being a devastating missionary press. he pushed your knees to your chest, feeling the air rush out of your lungs. when he bottomed out, john had hissed above you. "made a proper mess there, johnny. there's not enough room for kyle when she's stuffed full of you."

"i'm not sorry, sir," was his cheeky reply.

johnny's spend had been forcibly pushed out when kyle pushed in.

his length was in your throat as he took you and he gave you no respite, just a constant drag of his cock along your sensitive nerves. your mind was scrambled, unable to form a single coherent thought. his fingers dug into the soft meat of your thighs when he came.

simon chose to be last, because you'd be warmed up and slick enough to take him without much discomfort.

wrong.

even with him on his back, you choosing how fast or slow the coupling went, it'd stung. it was an invasion, a searing ache in between your legs, inside your core once you sat flush on his thighs.

simon's hands tightened around your hips, and grunted. "alrigh' getter off. she's clearly in pain--"

"no! i'm just sensitive, is all. i just need a little time to get accustomed."

his face showed disbelief, brows furrowed and lips slightly pursed but john was quick to assuage the situation. "you heard her, simon. she can take it." john turned to you and cradled your face in his hands. "can't you, love?"

'course you could. you promised to be good, after all.

kyle came from behind and wrapped his own hands around your waist, canting them forward, simon's length going so much deeper, and a sharp breath escaped you.

"there ya go, doll. much better now, yeah?"

you rolled your hips slowly, testing the waters. underneath the pulse of pain, was pleasure, crawling up your spine, dripping slick down the base of simon's cock.

finally.

leaning forward, you placed your palms on his sweat-slick barrel chest and began to ride him with fervor. john threaded his fingers through simon's hair and tugged harshly, a ragged moan falling from his lips. it hadn't been much longer after, which you are grateful for because you were about to pray to the gods that your hips hold out with how fiercely they burned with effort.

john had kissed your temple in the end, praising how well you did and to not worry about him, this was more than enough.

aftercare had been a long, drawn out process that had your eyes heavy with sleep, and chest warm with affection.

they left you asleep, exhausted, curled up in john's oversized bed and simon was the one to drag them all into the guest bedroom because john hadn't come once tonight.

when he tried to protest, kyle huffed and cut him off with a wave of his hand. "we take care of each other, captain, and now it's your turn."

[linkcharacter]

I feel like many people are too focused on what Curly could've 'done' instead of what he 'thought' about it, how he saw and processed it in his head. As I see it, the point isn't that he did nothing, it's that he keeps shoving away and downplaying Jimmy's bullshit in his perception, which would then lead to inaction from Curly's side. That if he could've, we don't know if he would've. Action is very much needed in cases like Anya's, though it wouldn't make things better in the Tulpar situation, BUT that's just the horror of it and it doesn't remove Curly's faults outside of that. The point is that Curly is human and isn't exempt from trying to avoid the issue at hand in his head because of who he is as a person and the environment they're in, the condition Curly's in. He knows it's BAD with Jimmy, yet due to either or both, prolonged conditioning of their toxic friendship and Curly's stunted mental state, it doesn't click in his head properly.

If Anya didn't end up pregnant, if Jimmy didn't crash the ship, would Curly have seriously contemplated about Jimmy or rethought their friendship after finding out he's a rapist? Would anything have changed between them? I would imagine if Curly want half-delirious half-conscious and not going through an existential crisis, then I would give it a very stretched "maybe", and it still would've taken time to detach yourself from a close friend (with possible emotional abuse benefits). But we don't know what COULD'VE been, we just know he DIDN'T. And that is behavior of an enabler, not ill-willed or inconsiderate, but it's human to be afraid of change and be attached. Still ended in upkeeping his friend's harmful behaviors, not due to lack of wanting him to change but that's just how things are. It's realistic, there's no inherent 'morality' attached to Curly's actions, they were simply actions, what matters is the result. Good intentions don't mean much in face of a horrific outcome.

Would Curly keep attempting to give Jimmy help to be better, in vain like he was suggested to have done before? Very possible. "We said tomorrow will be different. Today would be the last day."

Would Curly report Jimmy to the authorities if he could? We don't know (I'm leaning towards a no though). It's not a bad thing to want your friends to be better and believe in them, nor do I think cutting them off is always the best course of action. Rehabilitation is a good thing (though we don't know exactly how Curly tried to help Jim) and having a support system as friends can make it more effective especially if it's a person struggling financially and mentally in life like Jimmy. Yet Jimmy still has to take accountability and be handled in a proper manner for what he did, not just be let go off the hook, only hoping he will improve like Curly does. At some point Curly had to stop making Jimmy's actions his responsibility but never did, until the end.

The conditions of the Tulpar themselves are very lackluster, the system is unfair and harsh with what we know about Mouthwashing's world. The companies are uncaring and scummy as they are in real life, Pony Express especially being cheap and has no regard for the safety and well being of their employees. It all creates a systematic environment for the worst human traits to fester in unchecked, no one single individual could've "fixed it".

So realistically I don't see much that could've been done in the environment they were in and no matter what Curly did, the outcome would never be good. In any course of action Curly could've gone with, the situation isn't changing, Anya was assaulted, Jimmy is the Co-pilot, the duration of the flight is more than the pregnancy term, conflict within the crew will be punished financially by the HR, they were fired. It's horrible and irreparable no matter what. That is the situation.

But

Curly still downplayed it, that's the point. It's not about the potential actions we imagine he could've taken, it's about all the things he didn't take into account and lacked proper judgement towards his friend, which ended up festering a destructive parasite called Jimmy.

Not to mention that Mouthwashing is such a multifaceted game in terms of its themes, it cannot be defined by ONLY this one Curly idea. There's so much more to the story.