#and like I do have sympathy for that person because that idea (that I didn't say and they made up) clearly hit on something personal

[fangirlanxiety74]

Nah okay, I was gonna keep my vent a vent, but now I see I can't do that, so let's instead try and be coherent about what I'm talking about.

tldr; the way this fandom treats the men is horribly disgusting, and you all really need to figure yourselves out on why.

---

I have been sitting on all of these thoughts for awhile, so I apologize if I come off as angrier than I probably should be. But given how much this story as a whole means to me, it's very frustrating to sit back and watch the fandom slander characters to hell and back that really don't deserve it.

I don't understand where we got this idea from that the men are evil monsters, and thieves, and all around bad people. I don't understand where we got the idea that AM "did nothing" to them, or that Ellen is "the only one worth saving." Do you know just how cruel that is to say???

I will tell you how cruel it is to say! Let's remember this: AM has tortured all of them them for 109 years. Tortured, 24/7, no breaks whatsoever, for 109 years.

What exactly do you guys think torture does to people? Because it's not pretty. And it certainly doesn't leave you unaffected.

And we see that. Ted literally tells us how AM has tortured them all. Did we forget his infamous monologue??? I have a picture for you to remind you all!

Here! Right here! He literally, directly tells us what AM has done.

And sure, you can claim that Ted is lying here, if it weren't for the fact that the rest of the story literally proves he isn't, including Ted himself. The only real lies said here are about Ellen and himself; that Ellen got off easy and likes the punishment AM gives her, and that Ted hasn't been affected. Obviously, we know Ted has been messed with, and that Ellen hates this and is suffering like the rest of them.

But that doesn't mean the men haven't been suffering???

Here's a crazy thing you guys need to realize: People being sympathetic. And empathetic. Towards the Men and AM. Does not take away from the sympathy and empathy we give Ellen.

People saying that the men are victims. Doesn't automatically mean Ellen isn't a victim.

The men are also being tortured. They have also been tortured for 109 years. They are suffering and so is Ellen, and hell, so is AM. That's the point of the story. That's what makes it so tragic and horrifying: Is that they are all victims, and they are all suffering, and there is no end to it.

Saying that "The men are rape victims" doesn't automatically mean Ellen isn't a rape victim. It literally just means the men are also rape victims.

Because yes, AM does do shit to them! He turned Benny from a human and a homosexual to a monkey who cannot consent, because his mind has devolved into acting on animal-instinct at worst, and toddler-behavior at best. He turned Gorrister, a literal peace marcher and human rights activist, into a guy who's comfortable hitting a woman. And with that context in mind, it's not wrong or incorrect to assume Ted was also a normal, everyday guy who got turned into the paranoid, delusional mess he is, who is comfortable thinking those things about a woman.

In fact, I could go on a whole rant about how you guys treat Ted. I could go on for ages about how this fandom's treatment of Ted is distasteful at best, and ableist at worst, but I'll save that for another day. (You all should understand though: Being an unreliable narrator doesn't automatically make the narrator a bad person. It just means that the narrator's pov can't be trusted.)

But that's the point. That's the literal point of the story. The men cannot consent. Ellen cannot consent. All 5 of them have been stripped of their free will and autonomy, and AM has warped them into people they don't recognize. They were all average, everyday people before AM, and then the end of the world happened, and AM tortured them into becoming who we see in the book. If he didn't, AM would ultimately serve no purpose in the story (As he pretty much would just sit there and watch them starve), and Ted having his moment of clarity to mercy-kill them all would not be impactful. You would be erasing core aspects of their character and the story.

I will say it again:

Saying the men are victims doesn't make Ellen any less of a victim.

And I encourage you all to read that sentence, over and over, as many times as you need until you get it through your head.

"But Sara, what about the game!!!"

The game isn't canon. I don't know when we will accept this as a fandom, but it isn't. It is in the same boat as the FNAF movie or the Percy Jackson movies at best, and you wanna know how I know?

This line, right here. That's easy to miss, so I'm not surprised we have this take, but yeah. Benny literally has a line in the game about how he did the whole adventure alone, and clearly he did, or else we wouldn't even have this game, because they'd all be dead and Ted would be a slug.

And if that isn't enough, I want to show y'all this

Which is this! The Gamer Informer, issue 225, where they talk about the characters backstories specifically, and how they were altered from the original story, and how David Sears, one of the designers, did a lot in terms of writing their backstories.

"'I remember having some questions about the story line David Sears had written for Ted, but when I showed it to Harlan, he said that Sears had written a story very different from what they originally discussed,' Mullich says."

Literally right there. David Sears had altered and changed Ted's backstory from what Harlan Ellison had for him, and this is said for the others as well. It's actually really fascinating, and I highly suggest you read about it here if you want.

---

Having been in this fandom for about 2 years, it's really saddening to see this shift into. Needing to put down the men to uplift Ellen, and by extension, AM.

No one was spared from AM's torture. Not a single one of them. No one got to keep their freedom or stayed sane and whole. Because the story wouldn't be impactful otherwise.

And if you disagree with me on any of this, just block me. Just block me and move on. Any sort of argument you make in my DMs/reblogs/comments/asks, etc. will just be ignored, deleted, and make me block you back. I don't want to hear it, and I'm not going to change my mind.

[annabelle--cane]

You don't have to answer this if you don't feel like labouring the discussion but I'm. Baffled as to how that recent post's points got you called an abuse apologist. I'm trying to rationalize it in my head I. Was it implying that Martin and Georgie had similar levels of power and therefore freedom and that Martin held more power over the rest of the archives? Was that truly what hit the nerve somehow? Because Georgie's controversial and Martins a fan fav??? I'm sorry again I don't want to drag this out but. I'm baffled. This fandom baffles me.

I believe the thing that set people off was that my og post from way back in the day was phrased a bit more emotionally, something like "it's really sad that jon didn't have access to that kind of support because martin didn't think he meant it and georgie thought melanie wanted help more" and some people read that as me saying it was georgie's duty to help jon and she didn't have to right to cut him off (I have not said that once ever in my life), and that idea really set some people off to the point where I was getting thirty paragraphs in my notes from someone a decade older than me asking me to explain why I thought it was okay to force people to be on call 24/7 for toxic friends who don't actually want help and just want to drag people down and control them. wild times.

[coquelicoq]

how to write a sympathy card

so someone you know recently lost a loved one and you would like to extend your sympathy, but you have no idea what to say. here are some ideas to get the juices flowing. i did not even try to keep this short, so i've broken it up into four sections: general advice, what to include, some example cards i've written, and takeaways.

general advice

first, if you're reading this i'll assume that you have decided to express your sympathy in some way and just don't know how. the thing about doing this is it will always feel inadequate. it will often feel very awkward. you may be worried that everything you say sounds weirdly insincere even if it isn't. i'm here to tell you that that is all okay and normal and to be expected. i've written a lot of sympathy cards and afterwards i've never been like "wow, i nailed it!" and yet i've gotten a lot of comments from people thanking me for showing up even when all i did was send a measly insufficient card, because most people don't do that. it will mean something to the person that you did it at all, even if it's not perfect.

should you send your sympathy in a card or some other method? if you never send mail, if you don't have their address, if you don't even own stamps, maybe sending a card is not for you. but everything below also applies to an email you could send. i personally prefer a card because i like the physicality; it's something they can keep and look at later if they want to, and it's a way of showing a small amount of deliberation and care (i went to the store and picked this out; i sat down and handwrote this). more importantly, i feel like there's less pressure to respond to a card than an email, and a phone call can be overwhelming to someone who is already dealing with a lot of shit, while a card is just there whenever they feel up to looking at it. but that is entirely my own perspective; there are differences culturally as well as personally. you should do what makes sense for you.

do think about what you're trying to accomplish by sending this card. you may not be able to make things better, but you are certainly trying not to make things harder. one example of this might be: if your friend has just lost her mother, you might have a lot of complicated feelings about this that aren't really about your friend or her mother specifically (you also have a mother!), and that's natural and okay, but those feelings would perhaps be best to share with other friends of yours who didn't just lose their mother. another example: it's okay to be worried about your friend and how they're doing, but try not to imply that they owe you updates or that they're causing you a lot of stress by not keeping you in the loop. (of course, if they are instead sharing more with you than you can handle, it's important to set boundaries around that! though probably not through the mechanism of a sympathy card.)

it is okay to keep it really short and generic. again, i think just the act of thinking to get a card, getting a card, writing something in it, and mailing it already means something regardless of what is written in it. if you feel overwhelmed trying to figure out what to say, it is okay to keep it to "I'm thinking of you in this difficult time. I'm so sorry for your loss." i also sometimes add "I don't know what to say, except that [I'm thinking of you, etc.]."

one thing i've learned that makes this harder is that you cannot assume you know how anyone else feels. you may be thinking, "i also lost a parent, so i know how it feels," but you only know how you felt about it. there are infinite ways to feel about losing someone, including:

sadness for the deceased, that their life is over

sadness for themself, that the deceased is gone

sadness for the other people who lost the deceased

fear of their own mortality

fear of dying in the same way

fear of how their life is going to change without the deceased

relief that the deceased is no longer suffering

relief that their caretaking duties are over

relief that the deceased can no longer mistreat them

anger at the deceased for dying or for not doing something before they died

anger at god

anger at others/self for contributing to their death or not saving them

overwhelm from all the logistical things there are to deal with when someone dies

overwhelm from all the emotions

confusion at their own reaction

guilt for outliving the deceased

guilt for not feeling sadder or for feeling other things in addition to sadness (or for being numb/in shock)

this is an incomplete list!!!

i try not to project onto my friend or put words in their mouth, because it can be very isolating to be told how other people think you should feel if that's not exactly how you feel. because you're sending them a sympathy card, there is some baseline assumption that there is something to feel sympathy about. but beyond that i try to be careful not to get super specific about how "you must be feeling" or how hard "this must be". generally i try to avoid the word "must" because it implies that there is a certain way this is supposed to go, when there isn't.

if i know that they are struggling in some way but haven't talked to them much about it, i personally usually feel okay saying "Loss is hard" or "It's hard to lose someone", which might seem similar to "This must be hard", but avoids the word "must" and the direct reference to their situation ("loss" in general vs. "the particular instance of loss you are experiencing"). if i don't know much at all about how they're doing, i might say "Loss can be hard", which presumes even less, or i might not directly mention the difficulty of loss at all.

but also, it's okay to be more specific and personalized if you have been in contact with your friend as they've been processing the situation. it's good to acknowledge specific feelings that they've told you about, but try to also leave room for other feelings and/or ways their feelings might have changed.

what to include

here are some categories of sentiments you may want to include (all optional!):

thinking of you: even though it's kind of self-evident that you're thinking about them, this is something that is always appropriate to say and always nice to hear. examples: You're in my thoughts. I'm thinking of you often.

wishing you comfort/support: comfort and support are very safe things to wish somebody because they don't assume anything very specific about how they're feeling, and they express care for their wellbeing without putting pressure on them to be fine. I hope you can find moments of comfort in the coming days. I hope you're feeling supported by friends and family.

sorry for your loss: this is one of those things everyone knows is a stock phrase, but it's the kind of stock phrase that imo actually communicates something, so i do generally use it. I'm so sorry for your loss.

my heart goes out to you: this stock phrase is a little iffier, meaning it can be kind of a toss-up on whether or not it will sound insincere. it might depend on how close you are to the person. use your discretion. again, even things that sound insincere to you can still mean a lot to the recipient. My heart goes out to you. My heart is with you.

i'm here for you: offer logistical and/or emotional support if you want to and if you're reasonably sure that you could provide it. if you're able to be specific, that can be very helpful; one thing that can be overwhelming in the aftermath of a loss is dealing with lots of people wanting to help and having to come up with ways for them to do that. Please reach out anytime if it would help to talk about it. If you ever need to be distracted, I'm good at that! I'd love to bring over some food/help out with chores and errands; I'll text you to see if that would be helpful and not disruptive.

prayers: if you and the recipient are both religious/spiritual and it feels right to say, you could say "I'm keeping you in my prayers" or similar, in addition to or in lieu of "I'm thinking of you." if you are religious but the recipient isn't (or you're not sure if they are), i suggest not saying this, but use your judgment. some people don't mind hearing that someone is praying for them even if they don't believe in prayer and may in fact expect you to say it if you are known as someone who often expresses care through prayer, but for others, this can be actively offensive. i would say when in doubt, stick to "thoughts" instead of "prayers". You're in my prayers. I'm praying for you.

there are many ways to grieve: this one is harder to describe, but i like to include something that validates whatever the recipient may be feeling, despite not knowing how the recipient is feeling. the downside of a card is that it's not in real time, so you really have no way of knowing how your friend is feeling when they read it, even if you talked to them previously and know how they were feeling during that conversation. so i like to, in addition to not assuming any particular emotions, make space for the fact that their emotions may be shifting in ways that are confusing or distressing. but you have to be kind of vague about it, because you don't even know if that's happening. I hope you have the space to grieve in whatever way you need to/is meaningful for you. I hope you're getting through this time in whatever way is best for you.

you may want to express your own grief over the loss of this person, if you knew them. i think this can be comforting for the recipient to hear, but i suggest keeping it brief and not overwrought. the last thing you want is for your friend to feel they have to manage your emotions in addition to their own. if you can, do the below instead of or in addition to this.

now i will share my LIFE HACK!! for the very best thing to put in a sympathy card. this will not always be possible, because it relies upon a) you yourself having a relationship with the deceased (which is not always the case) and b) you being able to remember things (which i often cannot, especially when i'm sad). but if you can, i highly suggest something along the lines of the following.

say what you will remember the deceased for. (I will remember them for their wry sense of humor. I will remember them as a compassionate/driven/curious person.)

give an example of a memory you have of them in which they exemplified that characteristic.

if you can't do both, it's also good to do just one and not the other. if you have a favorite memory but it's too hard to think of adjectives to attribute to them, just share the memory. if you tend to think of them as [positive adjective] but no specific evidence is coming to mind, that's okay, this isn't a debate. in general it is comforting to people to know that they are not the only ones who will remember their lost loved one.

example cards

i will now give some examples of cards i've written. these all feel really awkward and inadequate to me, and you can see i didn't always stick to my own advice! but they were all deeply appreciated.

[to my coworker. i didn't have much detail except knowing her dad had been in the hospital a lot, and she was sad that he died]

I was so sorry to hear about your father. It seems like the last few years have been hard on your family, and loss is especially hard. I hope you are able to take the time you need to be with your family and cherish your memories of him together.

[to my friend's mother after the passing of her husband. i knew from talking to my friend that her mom was struggling especially with outliving him, because she was sick and had expected for a long time to die before him]

I'm thinking about you and [friend's name] a lot. I'm so sorry for your loss. Losing someone is so hard. Adjusting to their absence is, too. I hope that you're finding moment of comfort and feeling supported by friends and family. He will be missed. I will remember him for his wry sense of humor; I still have a "card" from him on my fridge (he cut out a sample "thank you" card greeting that said "The smallest good deed is better than the grandest intention" from a list of things to write in different kinds of cards (a sample message for a "Get Well Soon" card was on the back, crossed out) and simply added my name at the top and his name at the bottom. It's one of my favorite pieces of mail I've ever received and it's been on my fridge for many years). I am so sorry that he's gone. You are in my thoughts and my heart goes out to you.

[to my close friend and her husband i don't know as well, after a late-term abortion for a baby they had been very excited to raise. in this case i knew some of my friend's feelings, but not her husband's, and while i knew that many things about the pregnancy had been hard (lots of waiting for test results about the viability of the fetus, for one thing), i didn't want to imply that the decision to abort was hard, because my friend said it wasn't]

I'm thinking of you both lots. I'm so sorry for the loss of your baby. It sounds like it's been a difficult and fraught process, and I hope you're getting space and time to grieve and to come to terms with the loss. I hope you're getting whatever kind of support you need. If there's anything I can do to help, whether logistical or emotional, please let me know. I would love to be of service to you. I wish I knew what to say. You've just had such a fantastically shitty year. I do believe that things will get lighter for you both, and I hope that happens soon. Take care, and know you are cherished.

[to my grandmother after the loss of her estranged brother, when i was extremely unsure how she was feeling about it and had my own complicated emotions]

I just wanted to send you a card to say I'm thinking of you. Mom let me know about Uncle [name]. I know things had been strained for many years and I haven't seen him in a long time, but I'm sorry to hear that he's passed. I hope that you and [grandmother's sister] are able to reminisce in whatever way feels appropriate and meaningful to you. I'm not sure what else to say, other than I'm thinking of you, I love you, and I'm sorry. It was really nice to see you at [family member's] graduation the other day. The next time we're together, I look forward to giving you such a big hug! I feel very lucky to be your granddaughter and to have you in my life.

[to my grandmother after the loss of my 38yo cousin, which was hitting me really hard]

I don't know what to say, but I just wanted to tell you that my heart goes out to you and that I'm thinking of you, and [cousin], and [uncle], and [father], every day. It's so hard to lose someone, and I'm so sorry for your loss. My grief is a strange animal that sneaks up on me at the strangest times. I hope you are finding moments of comfort and feeling supported by friends and family. I'm looking forward to the day when I can hug you in person.

[to my close friend on the loss of her father after a long illness. she had been leaning on me for support, as another person who has lost someone after a long illness]

I'm thinking about you lots. I hope you're getting through this time in whatever way is best for you. Loss is hard even when you know it's coming and even when you get to say goodbye. I hope you are finding comfort and feeling how loved you are. He was a special person, and I'm so sorry he's left you. I know part of him will live on in you and the other people who learned from and admired him. It's still so hard to lose him, and grief is a strange animal. Take care. Reach out anytime. I love you so much.

takeaways

it will probably feel inadequate to you, but chances are it will still be appreciated.

remember that though you may not be able to make things better, you are trying not to make things harder.

it is okay to keep it really short and generic.

you cannot assume you know how anyone else feels. there are many ways to grieve. that said, it's nice to acknowledge any specific feelings your friend has expressed to you, while also leaving room for other feelings you may not know about.

if you want to offer support, it can help a lot to be specific in how you are able and willing to help.

it is usually comforting to people to know that they are not the only ones who will remember their lost loved one.

even if you do it awkwardly, just the act of reaching out is meaningful! people don't know you're thinking about them unless you tell them.

and remember to take care of yourself, too! watching friends lose loved ones can be hard for you as well for a variety of reasons. reach out to other friends for support when you need it.

[kaciebello]

Don’t shoot the messenger

Slytherin boys x Hufflepuff!reader (use of she/her, no use of y/n) Masterlist Delivery Express ✿ Summary: The reader sees an opportunity to run an untapped market in Hogwarts and makes her first delivery. warnings: mention of alcohol and cigarettes, nothing else really Authors note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I wanna spread this into a one-shot series. Proofread by me and me only :( • Next part: Delivery fees Word count: 1352

Notes to deliver - 1

The Slytherin bedroom is filled with the usual chatter. Two boys arguing about quidditch tactics over a cigarette, some have given up and just stared at a ceiling while nursing a glass of fire whiskey. You can hear someone's father being mentioned in almost every other sentence. Nothing magical was happening if you omit this being a school of witchcraft and wizardry.

Suddenly, the door busts as if being kicked open. Revealing, to the boys, an unknown girl wearing a green uniform they are all familiar with, her cloak being absend. Her hair is neatly in a braid tied with a bow. All chatter stops and their attention is on her. She, however, paid no mind to anyone in the room and kept looking into her notepad as if nothing happened. Taking a few steps into the room and closing the door was only an interaction with her surroundings.

Nobody says a word for what feels like an hour. “ Who are you?” a voice recognizable as Draco Malfoy spoke. Snaping her head from her notebook she finally scans the room. As if searching for something. An offended scoff is heard from the boy as his question is left without an answer.

“ Sunshine? What are you doing here?” Lorenzo asks as he sits up. Her eyes snap to him the second she hears his voice. A sweet smile spreads on her face and her eyes create moon crescents.

“ There you are! I have a note for you.” She says and takes a few steps to his sitting figure.

His friends, still confused by what is this mystery girl doing in their bedroom, could do nothing but stare as she moved across the room with ease. But she seems to pay no attention to anybody but her friend. Passing the neatly folded note to Lorenzo, she sits down and crosses something in her notebook humming happily before turning back to him with the same sweet smile. The boy in question studies the note and opens it to read it. His eyes widen and his ears go red. He turns to the girl in shock. 

“ YOU GAVE ME A LOVE NOTE???” He yells and the second those words leave his mouth all his friends surround the pair like hungry hyenas. Her smile drops and her eyes widen to the point some would think is impossible.

“ Eh? Is that what that is??” She goes to snatch the note from him, which proves to be an easy task as Lorenzo is frozen in the spot. Before she could read the note herself, however, it was too snatched from her hand by Theodore Nott and passed around his friend group.

With a frown on her face, she turns to her friend, “ I, didn't give you anything, someone gave you a love note, I just delivered it.” She said making sure to emphasize mentioning her person in the sentence.

“ So this is not from you? Because that sure sounds like an excuse, lame one at that,” says Mattheo Riddle as he waves the note in front of her face. She swats his hand away like it's a fly and he passes the note to Blasie Zabini who has yet to read it.

“No, I had no idea it was a love note,” she argues back and places her hand on Lorenzo's shoulder. “ I love you, but not like that.”

“ Are you sure? because-”

“yes.”

“no, like, if you do-”

“no”

“ Maybe we can work-”

“ I would rather jump from the astronomy tower.”

“Ouch,” he said and she just patted him on the back with fake sympathy. The note was passed back to him and he finally had the chance to look at it again. All of his friends return to studying the girl sitting on the bed.  A minute of silence is broken when Blasie speaks up. 

“ Are you, not the Hufflepuff girl sitting next to Enzo in Charms?” Looking up and smiling.

 “Why, yes I am.” she proudly announces to the room. The shock and mumbles did not phase her as her friend got her attention.

“ So who gave you this note?” Lorenzo asks seemingly coming out of his trance from just receiving a love confession.

“ I don't know, some girl gave it to me and asked me to give it to you.”  She shrugs and targets the candy bag in Draco's arms, taking a handful without the boy noticing and popping a few chocolate pieces in her mouth. “ and you just did it?” 

“For 5 galleons.” He looks at her in disbelief. 

“ You sold our friendship for galleons?” he asks not believing he's worth a pocket change.

 “ She promised another 5 if I got her an answer.”

“oh my god.”  He throws his head back and stares at the ceiling for a second as the girl next gives him a confused look.

“ what? I didn't know it was a love note. Besides-”

“ How did you get in here?” Draco cutes her as he notices her hand sneaking into his bag of candy this time, snatching it away.  The two friends turn to the group of boys standing around them.

  “ I do you one better, whose uniform is that?” Mattheo asks pointing out the obvious Slytherin uniform on the Hufflepuff girl. Her eyes narrowed, not enjoying being interrogated. As she was about to answer Lorenzo was just a second faster.

“ Her own you moron, it's a color-changing charm. Good job on that by the way.” He says, getting up from the bed and breaking the circle his friends formed around them. The girl gets up and follows him to his desk.

“ That does not answer how she got here.” chimes in Theodor. Leaning on the desk she turns to them and crosses her arms.

“I'm a Hufflepuff, we have our ways. It is not that hard to find all the secret passages.” She says nonchalantly. Next to her, Lorenzo is hunched down and scribbling something on a piece of paper. Before any more questions can be said he shoots up with a little ‘aha’ leaving him.  Taking the girl’s hand and turning it, he slaps a little note folded in half in her palm. Then he fishes up what seems to be 10 galleons from his pocket and adds that as well.

“Now sunshine, please don't ever bring me love notes ever again,” he said and started to usher the girl out of the bedroom. She gets up from her spot and walks to the door not that much bothered by her friend kicking her out.

“ What if it normal note? Can I bring that?”

“ no.” He answers as soon as he hears the first question. ‘You're no fun ‘ can be heard faintly as she says it under her nose. Opening the door she previously so elegantly kicked open, she turns to his friends one last time.

“None of you want to send a note? It will cost you only 5 galleons.”All of them shake their head not wanting to use the girls' service. She gives them a few more seconds before she takes our step outside of the door.

“ Wait, sunshine,” Lorenzo stops her with a sheepish smile on his face Wordlessly she raises an eyebrow at him.

“ Next time don't forget to change the colour of your bow.” he says and motions to the bow keeping her braid together. She looks down and sees it proudly shining the yellow colour of her house. She just chuckles and without other words, she steps out of the room and closes the door behind her. 

The room falls silent for a minute before erupting into a bickering over what happened.

Notes to deliver - 0 

[trustmypoison]

SVT when you ask them for 'help'

You lament to your friend that your latest hookup didn’t quite cut it. 

Genre: suggestive (with no explicit smut), but MDNI.

Seungcheol

You didn't even have to ask. When you lament about your frustration lately, he’s openly offering to help. He’ll kind of laugh at your surprised pikachu face and call you cute, and you’re thinking ‘where the hell did this come from??’ But then he’s crowding your space and asking what you usually like and your mind will go blank. ‘Tell me what they did wrong so I can fix it’, he says sweetly. He’s never made you nervous before but his hands creeping under your shirt does now. Of course you’ll tell him what you want and he’ll reward you tenfold for your honesty. Deceptively casual about it later. You’d never know it’s all he’s been thinking about lately.

Jeonghan

I’m sure you saw this coming, but he’ll tease you relentlessly. ‘Pick someone better next time,’ he’ll say unapologetically as he coos at your frustrated expression and pinches your flushed cheeks. Bitterly, you’ll say something like, ‘What? Like you could do better?’ You’ve unlocked his ego because of course he could and he’ll say so. He loves to rile you up, so he’ll tell you exactly what he’d do in great detail just watch you flush even more and squirm. Finally, he’ll lean in close and ask if that’s what you want. He’ll be happy to help you out if you beg ask nicely. The mask of confidence will slip a little as he sees how much you enjoy his touch and he’ll quickly realize that he’s playing with fire. 

Joshua

Tries to hide his entertainment at your frustration. You guys are too open and honest so he gets all of the details about what this person did wrong. He does have some sympathy when you’re so frustrated you look like you might cry, so he finds himself offering to help you if you want it. When you ask if he’d really do that, the answer is simply ‘of course’. He promises nothing would change, but the moment he sees your eyes shift at his touch, he knows he’s accidentally lied. Your little faces and sounds are going to be addictive to him. 

Jun

‘You want me to do what?’ He’s totally bug eyed when you ask him for help. He doesn’t know what to say so he lets you ramble for a long time about how you trust him and you know he wouldn’t make it weird and you’re just really frustrated and need a release. When you don’t get much of a reaction from him, you start rambling about how sorry you are for even asking and that you didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable and how you hope he can forget about it. He’s cutting you off with a kiss because of course he’ll help you, he just needed a minute to wrap his head around the request. One of the few that will totally go back to normal afterwards.

Hoshi

‘What?!… Okay, let’s go.’ He’ll leave you in the dust as he rushes down the hall to your bedroom. You’re left wondering why he switched between shock and acceptance so quickly. He’s so eager to please once you’re both in the bedroom that you have to push him back for a minute to take a breather and ask if he’s really okay with this. ‘Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?’ His response is so simple that you can’t really argue with it. Nothing changes afterwards (except for the crushing weight of his new-found feelings, but you won’t catch him saying anything about it now). 

Wonwoo

Will look totally unimpressed with the suggestion. ‘What’s in it for me?’ He’ll ask and you’ll gape at him. ‘What do you mean, Wonwoo? I’m offering to let you hit it.’ Eventually he’ll shrug and tell you to get on with it before he changes his mind. As soon as you’re in his lap and can feel how hard he is, you get the idea that his attitude might have just been an act. Expect very little to change afterwards, but he’ll be replaying that interaction for a while in his head and kind of wishing you’d ask again. 

Woozi

Another one on team totally unimpressed. In fact, he looks so put out by the suggestion that you drop it and move on. It’s him that brings it up again a week later asking if you really meant it and if you were still interested. When you say yes, he’s slow to start if only because he’s still not totally convinced you’re into it. When you start stripping, it changes his mind and things start to move fast after that. Won’t tell you, but he wishes he’d gone about this differently because the feelings he experiences afterwards are consuming.

DK

He feels sorry for you, he does. He wants you to be happy, and he’s sorry that the people you’ve been with lately aren’t making you happy. But he DOES NOT feel that him helping like this is the solution. You drop it because it felt like a firm no and don’t give him a lot of specifics about the next bad hookup. However, he hates seeing you like this and does eventually come around to the idea. You’re one of his best friends after all and he wants you to be happy. And the more he thinks about it, the more touched he is that you came to him of all people. He thinks he’ll just do enough to get you off and then move on, but changes his mind when he finds out how much he enjoys watching your little reactions. This will surely make him realize he’s been misinterpreting his feelings for you all along and what a dramatic crisis that will be. 

Mingyu

Another one that will absolutely deny the request initially because he genuinely only had platonic feelings for you. You drop it, but the thought lingers with him enough to mention it to one or two of his members. They simply cannot believe that he turned down that opportunity and his jaw drops when he asks if they would have taken the opportunity and they cry out ‘yes, you idiot!!’ He’ll rethink his logic and boldly ask if you’re still interested. Having you underneath him later that night makes him realize just how wrong he was, both to turn you down and to also assume that what he felt was platonic. 

Minghao

The last of the unimpressed team. A simple raise of his eyebrow lets you know that you might have gone too far. You start to backpedal - it’s just been a long time, and you trust him, and you’re sorry if the request was too much and it won’t happen again. He simply shakes his head, chuckling. ‘It’s not a no, it’s a why now.’ Makes you talk about it before he’ll so much as touch you and the conversation feels so soul-bearing that you’re nervous when he finally does reach out for you. But your comfort always comes first, so he’ll make sure you walk away happy. There’s no big realization because he already knows how he felt, but now he has to come to terms with the fact that he knows you in a more intimate way and really enjoyed it.

Seungkwan

Stunned. Flabbergasted. Outraged. You’re not surprised by this overzealous reaction, but still, you laugh it off and say, ‘It was just an idea, Seungkwan. You can shoot it down.’ He mouths off some more, saying that he should and that you’re crazy, but then he’s pressed up against you kissing the life out of you. Your head spins at the sudden sensations, but this is what you wanted, right? Later, he’ll have to grapple with the way that being with you made him feel, but he won’t be saying anything about it until he’s ready. 

Vernon

Just shrugs and says ‘okay’. You know he’s laidback, but this is a whole other level. You raise an eyebrow and ask him if he understands what you just asked of him. ‘Yeah, you want me to help you come.’ Okay. Okay, okay, okay, got it. Cool, cool, cool. He can tell he’s surprised you so he eases into it with a lot of soft touches to get you to relax. He’s not really one to initiate a lot of physical contact, but boy do you wish he would now that you know how it feels. Later, he’s still just as casual about it. That is, until he’s staring at the ceiling in the middle of the night when he can’t sleep because he’s just had an ‘oh’ moment. 

Chan

Have you guys seen that thing where one of the members says ‘maybe we should kiss because we’re bored’ and he’s like, ‘no thanks, that’s weird’? Yep, that’s his reaction. But he watches you deflate before his very eyes and his mind screeches to a halt, because, wait, you were serious??? Presses the issue even though you want to drop it now because you’re embarrassed. You hesitantly explain and he finally frowns and says, ‘if you’re sure’. He knows he’s in trouble with the way your eyes light up at his acceptance, but he knows he’s in wayyyy too deep when he sees you underneath him. Yeah, he’s going to be a little weird afterwards if only because he can’t get that interaction out of his mind.

[bratzkoo]

barely yours | mingyu pt. 2

Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: rockstar! mingyu x reader Word Count: 5.4k Genre: fluff, angst, smut-ish Rating: NC-17 (PG-13 for this chapter only) Possible Warnings: mingyu is an idiot, AGAIN. written in third person.

Summary: you flirt, you fuck, but when you hint that you want to be more he dismissed it as if you’re joking… and when you decide to ignore him he comes back with flowers at your doorstep.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): ​ @ca-clover, @junniesoleilkth , @gaslysainz , @darkerrdaze , @mansaaay , @childish-fear , @whoa-jo , @movingalongfrs

find other parts here! pt. 1 | pt.2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

Y/N felt her carefully constructed facade begin to crumble as she looked into Seungcheol's eyes. The lead vocalist and leader of HHT stood before her, his usually melodic voice now tight with concern and something that sounded like barely contained frustration.

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and urgent. "We need to talk about Mingyu."

She glanced around the hallway, acutely aware of the curious glances from passing employees. This was not a conversation she wanted to have in the middle of her father's company.

"Not here," she hissed, grabbing Seungcheol's arm and pulling him towards an empty conference room. Once inside, she closed the door and leaned against it, as if she could physically block out the complications that were piling up around her.

"What's going on?" Seungcheol demanded as soon as they were alone. "Mingyu showed up at our dorm this morning looking like he'd been hit by a truck. He's refusing to talk to anyone, and we have that radio interview in a few hours."

Y/N closed her eyes, guilt washing over her. She'd been so focused on protecting herself that she hadn't considered how her decision might affect the band. "I... we ended things," she admitted quietly.

Seungcheol's eyebrows shot up. "Ended things? I didn't realize there were 'things' to end. I thought you two were just..."

"Fooling around?" Y/N supplied bitterly. "Yeah, well, it turns out feelings don't always follow the rules we set for them."

Understanding dawned on Seungcheol's face, followed quickly by sympathy. "You fell for him."

It wasn't a question, but Y/N nodded anyway. "I did. And when I tried to talk to him about it, he made it clear that he didn't want anything more. So I ended it."

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, a habit he shared with Mingyu when he was stressed. "Shit, Y/N. This is... complicated."

"You think I don't know that?" Y/N snapped, then immediately regretted her tone. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't know what to do. And now my father wants me to take a more active role in managing you guys, and I-"

"Wait, what?" Seungcheol interrupted. "You're going to be our manager?"

Y/N shook her head. "Not exactly. He wants me to be more involved in the management side of things. Apparently, I 'understand your demographic' better than the older executives."

Seungcheol let out a low whistle. "Talk about adding fuel to the fire. How are you going to manage that with... everything else going on?"

"I have no idea," Y/N admitted, slumping into one of the conference room chairs. "I never wanted this, Cheol. Any of it. I was happy being the party girl, the CEO's wild child. It was easier."

Seungcheol took the seat next to her, his expression softening. "Maybe it was easier, but was it really what you wanted? Because the Y/N I know is smart, talented, and more than capable of handling whatever comes her way."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat at his words. It had been a long time since someone had seen her as more than just a pretty face or a potential scandal. "I'm scared," she whispered.

Seungcheol reached out, taking her hand in his. "It's okay to be scared. But you're not alone in this, Y/N. The band... we care about you. Both you and Mingyu."

At the mention of Mingyu's name, Y/N felt her heart clench. "How is he, really?"

Seungcheol sighed. "He's hurting. I've never seen him like this before. Whatever was between you two... I don't think it was as casual for him as he let on."

Y/N's head snapped up, hope and confusion warring in her chest. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Seungcheol said carefully, "that maybe you two need to have an actual conversation. One where you both be honest about your feelings."

"I tried that," Y/N protested. "He laughed it off."

"And you immediately ended things instead of pushing the issue," Seungcheol pointed out gently. "Look, I'm not taking sides here. You're both my friends. But I think there's more to this story than either of you are seeing right now."

Y/N wanted to argue, to defend her decision. But a small part of her wondered if Seungcheol might be right. Had she been too hasty? Too afraid of rejection to really hear what Mingyu was saying – or not saying?

Before she could respond, Seungcheol's phone buzzed. He glanced at it and grimaced. "That's our manager. I need to go wrangle the guys for this interview." He stood, then hesitated. "Y/N, promise me you'll think about what I said. And maybe... maybe come to our studio session tomorrow? We could use your input on some of the new tracks."

Y/N nodded, not trusting herself to speak. As Seungcheol reached the door, she found her voice. "Cheol? Thank you. For everything."

He flashed her a warm smile. "That's what friends are for. Just... don't let fear make your decisions for you, okay?"

As the door closed behind him, Y/N leaned back in her chair, her mind whirling. She'd thought ending things with Mingyu would simplify her life, but it seemed to have done the exact opposite. Now she had a broken heart, a new job she wasn't sure she wanted, and the possibility that she'd misunderstood everything about her relationship with Mingyu.

Her phone buzzed, and she looked down to see a message from her father:

"Meeting with HHT's team tomorrow at 10 AM. Be there."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Tomorrow, she would have to face Mingyu, the band, and her new responsibilities all at once. She wasn't sure if she was ready, but she knew she didn't have a choice.

As she left the conference room and made her way out of the building, Y/N made a decision. She would go to the studio session tomorrow, as Seungcheol had suggested. She would face her fears head-on.

And maybe, just maybe, she would find the courage to have that honest conversation with Mingyu. Because if there was even a chance that he felt the same way...

Well, that was a risk she might just be willing to take.

-

Y/N stood outside the studio door, her hand hovering over the handle. She could hear muffled voices and the faint strains of music from inside. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down her blazer and steeled herself. Today, she wasn't Hwang Y/N, the party girl with a broken heart. She was Hwang Y/N, the professional, here to do a job.

With that thought firmly in mind, she pushed open the door.

The chatter inside the studio immediately died down as she entered. Five pairs of eyes turned to her, but she only allowed herself to focus on one – Seungcheol's. He gave her a small, encouraging nod.

"Good morning, everyone," Y/N said, proud of how steady her voice sounded. "I hope you don't mind, but I'll be sitting in on your session today. My father thinks it would be beneficial for me to have a more hands-on role in the creative process."

She deliberately avoided looking at Mingyu, who she could sense was staring at her intently from his position by the guitar rack.

Vernon was the first to break the awkward silence. "Cool, always good to have a fresh pair of ears. We're working on the bridge for the title track. Want to hear what we've got so far?"

Y/N nodded gratefully, taking a seat next to the sound engineer. As the music started playing, she allowed herself to get lost in the melody, analyzing the composition and arrangement. This, at least, was familiar territory. She'd always had a good ear for music, even if she'd never pursued it professionally.

As the song progressed, she found herself nodding along, impressed by the intricate harmonies and the way Seungcheol's powerful vocals blended with the instrumental. But something was off in the bridge – the guitar riff didn't quite mesh with the rest of the arrangement.

When the song ended, Y/N cleared her throat. "That was great, guys. Really solid work. But I think the bridge needs some tweaking. The guitar part feels a bit... disjointed."

She saw Mingyu stiffen out of the corner of her eye, but she kept her gaze fixed on Seungcheol.

"What do you suggest?" Wonwoo asked, leaning forward with interest.

Y/N bit her lip, considering. "Maybe if we simplified the riff a bit? Something that complements Seungcheol's vocals rather than competing with them."

There was a moment of silence, and then Mingyu spoke for the first time. "And what would you know about composing guitar parts?"

His tone was cold, almost challenging. Y/N finally allowed herself to look at him, keeping her expression neutral despite the way her heart raced at the sight of him. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes, but still unfairly handsome.

"I may not be a guitarist," Y/N replied evenly, "but I know what sounds good. And right now, that bridge doesn't flow with the rest of the song."

Mingyu opened his mouth to argue, but Seungcheol cut him off. "She's right, Gyu. I was thinking the same thing, but I couldn't put my finger on why it wasn't working. Let's try simplifying it."

For a moment, it looked like Mingyu might argue further. But then he shrugged, turning back to his guitar. "Fine. Let's hear your ideas then, Y/N."

The way he said her name, like it left a bitter taste in his mouth, made Y/N wince internally. But she pushed through, working with the band to refine the bridge. To her surprise, once they got past the initial awkwardness, the creative process flowed smoothly. Even Mingyu, despite his obvious reluctance, contributed valuable ideas.

As the hours passed, Y/N found herself relaxing into her role. She offered suggestions on vocal arrangements, helped fine-tune lyrics, and even hummed out a melody idea that Vernon quickly turned into a catchy hook for their b-side track.

It wasn't until their manager called for a lunch break that the comfortable bubble of creativity burst. As the others filed out of the studio, chatting about where to grab food, Y/N hung back, gathering her notes. She was so focused on avoiding being alone with Mingyu that she didn't notice Seungcheol had stayed behind until he spoke.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Y/N looked up, offering him a small smile. "No, it wasn't. You guys are incredibly talented. It's... it's an honor to work with you like this."

Seungcheol's expression softened. "You're good at this, Y/N. Really good. Have you ever thought about pursuing music production?"

She shook her head. "Not really. It was always just a hobby. Besides, my father has other plans for me."

"Maybe it's time to make your own plans," Seungcheol suggested gently. Then, after a pause, "Mingyu was watching you, you know. When you weren't looking."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to shrug nonchalantly. "We have to work together now. It's bound to be awkward for a while."

Seungcheol looked like he wanted to say more, but just then, the studio door opened and Mingyu walked in, stopping short when he saw them.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Forgot my phone."

The tension in the room was palpable as Mingyu retrieved his phone from beside his guitar. Y/N kept her eyes fixed on her notes, hyper-aware of his every movement.

As he turned to leave, Mingyu paused. "The bridge sounds better now," he said stiffly, not quite looking at Y/N. "Good call."

Before she could respond, he was gone, the door closing firmly behind him.

Y/N let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "This is going to be harder than I thought," she admitted quietly.

Seungcheol squeezed her shoulder supportively. "Give it time. And maybe... maybe try talking to him? Outside of work?"

Y/N shook her head firmly. "No. It's better this way. Clean break, professional distance. It's the only way this can work."

As they left the studio to join the others for lunch, Y/N repeated those words in her head like a mantra. Professional distance. It was the right thing to do.

So why did it feel so wrong? -

The atmosphere in the practice room was thick with tension, the usual easy banter replaced by an uncomfortable silence broken only by the sound of instruments being tuned. Seungcheol watched as Mingyu stole yet another glance at Y/N, who was studiously avoiding eye contact as she reviewed some paperwork in the corner. The leader of HHT sighed inwardly, knowing that something had to give.

For weeks now, Seungcheol had noticed the change in dynamics between Mingyu and Y/N. The playful flirtation that had once been a constant source of amusement (and occasional exasperation) for the band had vanished, replaced by awkward silences and stilted interactions. It was more than just personal drama – it was affecting the band's chemistry, and as the leader, Seungcheol knew he had to do something.

"Alright, let's take it from the top," Seungcheol called out, hoping that focusing on the music might alleviate some of the tension.

As they launched into their latest single, Seungcheol couldn't help but notice how Mingyu's usually flawless guitar work seemed off. The tall guitarist kept missing cues, his rhythm slightly out of sync with the rest of the band. Every time this happened, Mingyu's eyes would dart to Y/N, as if seeking her reaction, only to quickly look away when he realized she wasn't even watching.

Y/N, for her part, seemed determined to focus solely on her work. She sat in the corner, ostensibly reviewing marketing reports, but Seungcheol noticed how her pen hadn't moved on the page for the past ten minutes. Every now and then, when she thought no one was looking, her gaze would flicker to Mingyu, a mixture of longing and hurt in her eyes.

After an hour of subpar practice, Seungcheol called for a break. As the other members dispersed, grabbing water bottles and checking their phones, he pulled Vernon and Wonwoo aside.

"We need to talk about the Mingyu-Y/N situation," he said in a low voice, guiding them to a quiet corner of the room.

Vernon nodded, relief evident on his face. "Thank god someone said it. The tension is killing me. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells every time they're in the same room."

Wonwoo frowned, his usually calm demeanor showing signs of strain. "It's affecting our performance too. Did you hear Mingyu during that bridge? I've never heard him miss those notes before."

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, a habit he'd picked up when stressed. "I know. That's why we need to do something. I have an idea, but I'm going to need your help."

As Seungcheol outlined his plan, Vernon's eyes widened in disbelief while Wonwoo's narrowed in thought.

"Fake dating?" Vernon whispered, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Mingyu wasn't within earshot. "Isn't that a bit… I don't know, dramatic?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "Maybe. But subtle hasn't been working. Those two are too stubborn for their own good. Sometimes you need to fight fire with fire."

Wonwoo nodded slowly. "It could work. But are you sure Y/N will agree to it?"

"Leave Y/N to me," Seungcheol said, a determined glint in his eye. "For now, I need you two to help set the stage. Can I count on you?"

Both Vernon and Wonwoo nodded, though Vernon still looked a bit uncertain. As they broke apart, returning to their instruments, none of them noticed Mingyu watching them with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

Later that week, Y/N was working late in her office, the soft glow of her desk lamp the only light in the room. She rubbed her eyes, tired from staring at spreadsheets all day. As she reached for her coffee mug, a soft knock on the door made her jump.

"Come in," she called, straightening up in her chair.

Seungcheol poked his head in, an unusually serious expression on his face. "Got a minute?"

Y/N nodded, gesturing for him to sit. "What's up, Cheol? Is everything okay with the band?"

Seungcheol settled into the chair across from her, his usually relaxed posture tense. "Yes and no. The band is fine, but… well, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Y/N felt a knot form in her stomach. She had a feeling she knew where this was going. "If this is about Mingyu-"

"It is," Seungcheol cut in gently. "But not in the way you might think. I have a… proposition for you."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "I'm listening."

Seungcheol took a deep breath. "Look, we've all noticed the tension between you two. It's affecting the band, and frankly, I hate seeing you both so miserable."

"I'm not-" Y/N started to protest, but Seungcheol held up a hand.

"Y/N, come on. We've known each other too long for that. You're not happy, and neither is Mingyu. But you're both too stubborn to do anything about it."

Y/N slumped back in her chair, the fight going out of her. "What am I supposed to do, Cheol? He made it clear he doesn't want anything serious. I can't keep putting myself out there just to get hurt again."

Seungcheol leaned forward, his eyes intense. "What if we gave Mingyu a taste of his own medicine? What if… we pretended to date?"

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "What? Cheol, that's crazy. Why would we-"

"To make Mingyu jealous," Seungcheol interrupted. "Look, I've known Mingyu for years. He's stubborn and proud, but he cares about you. A lot. I think seeing you with someone else might be the push he needs to confront his feelings."

Y/N bit her lip, considering. The idea was tempting, but… "But what about the band? And my position? Wouldn't it complicate things even more?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "Maybe. But it could also solve our Mingyu problem. Plus, it might help deflect some of the pressure from your dad about taking things seriously. Dating the lead singer of HHT? That's a power move in the industry."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at that. "You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"I care about both of you," Seungcheol said sincerely. "And I hate seeing you two dance around each other like this. So, what do you say? Want to be my fake girlfriend?"

After a moment of hesitation, Y/N nodded. "Okay. Let's do it. But we need to set some ground rules…"

Over the next few days, Seungcheol and Y/N put their plan into action. They started small - sitting closer during meetings, sharing inside jokes, leaving together after practice. The other band members, clued in by Seungcheol, played along perfectly.

Vernon, ever the actor, would waggle his eyebrows suggestively whenever he saw them together. Wonwoo, more subtle in his approach, would casually mention how much time Seungcheol and Y/N had been spending together lately.

Mingyu, however, was oblivious to the plan. At first, he barely seemed to notice the change in dynamics. He was too caught up in his own thoughts, alternating between trying to figure out what had gone wrong with Y/N and convincing himself he didn't care.

But as the days passed, little things started to catch his attention. The way Seungcheol's hand would linger on Y/N's back as they walked into a room. The inside jokes they seemed to share, leaving the rest of the group puzzled. The fact that Y/N was suddenly at every practice session, even when she didn't need to be.

During one particularly grueling practice, Mingyu fumbled a guitar riff he'd played perfectly a hundred times before. His eyes were fixed on Y/N, who was laughing at something Seungcheol had whispered in her ear. The sound of her laughter, once a source of joy for Mingyu, now felt like a knife twisting in his gut.

"Dude, you okay?" Vernon asked, concern evident in his voice.

Mingyu shook his head, trying to clear it. "Yeah, just… distracted."

Vernon followed Mingyu's gaze to where Seungcheol and Y/N were huddled together, looking at something on Y/N's phone. "They've been spending a lot of time together lately, huh?" he said, his tone carefully neutral.

Mingyu grunted noncommittally, but his grip on his guitar tightened. "I guess. Not that it's any of my business."

Vernon raised an eyebrow at that but didn't push further. As they resumed practice, he exchanged a meaningful look with Wonwoo. Their plan was working, perhaps a little too well.

As the days turned into weeks, Mingyu's mood grew increasingly sour. He snapped at staff members over minor mistakes, isolated himself during breaks, and threw himself into his music with an almost manic intensity. His songwriting, always emotionally charged, took on a darker, more melancholic tone.

One evening, after a particularly tense practice session, Wonwoo found Mingyu alone in the studio, furiously scribbling in his notebook.

"New song?" Wonwoo asked, settling into a chair nearby.

Mingyu nodded without looking up. "Yeah. It's… it's about letting go of something you never really had."

Wonwoo's eyebrows shot up at that. "Sounds heavy. Want to talk about it?"

For a moment, it looked like Mingyu might open up. But then he shook his head, slamming the notebook shut. "It's nothing. Just… exploring some new themes."

As Mingyu stood to leave, Wonwoo called out, "You know, if something's bothering you, you can talk to us. We're not just your bandmates, we're your friends."

Mingyu paused at the door, his back to Wonwoo. "I know," he said softly. "But some things… some things you have to figure out on your own."

With that, he was gone, leaving Wonwoo to wonder if perhaps their plan was causing more harm than good.

The situation finally came to a head at a company party celebrating HHT's latest album going platinum. The event was in full swing, the cream of the K-pop industry mingling in a high-end Seoul nightclub.

Mingyu arrived late, his hair disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. He'd spent hours agonizing over whether to attend, knowing Y/N would be there. In the end, his pride (and a strongly worded text from their manager) had won out.

He froze in the doorway as he spotted Y/N and Seungcheol on the dance floor. Y/N was wearing a stunning red dress that hugged her curves, her hair swept up to reveal the graceful line of her neck. Seungcheol, looking handsome in a well-fitted suit, had his hand on her waist as they moved in perfect sync to the music.

Something snapped inside Mingyu. He stormed over to the bar, downing a shot of soju before grabbing another. As he watched Y/N throw her head back in laughter at something Seungcheol said, a series of memories flashed through Mingyu's mind:

Y/N's shy smile the first time they met at a company event. The electricity he felt the first time they kissed, hidden away in a dark corner of a after-party. Late nights spent talking about their dreams and fears, sharing parts of themselves they'd never shown anyone else. The way Y/N's eyes lit up when she listened to his new songs, always the first to offer genuine feedback and encouragement.

And then, more recent memories: The hurt in Y/N's eyes when he'd laughed off her suggestion of something more serious. The growing distance between them, a chasm he hadn't known how to bridge. The ache he felt every time he saw her now, an ache he'd tried to ignore, to rationalize away as mere physical attraction.

But seeing her now, radiant and happy in another man's arms, Mingyu could no longer deny the truth. He was in love with Y/N. Truly, madly, deeply, irrevocably in love. And he might have just lost her to his best friend.

The realization hit him like a physical blow. The glass in Mingyu's hand shattered, startling nearby partygoers. Blood dripped from his palm, but he barely noticed. All he could see was Y/N, beautiful and radiant, looking at Seungcheol with an affection that used to be reserved for him.

As staff rushed to tend to his injured hand, Mingyu's eyes met Y/N's across the room. The concern in her gaze was almost more than he could bear. In that moment, Mingyu knew he had to fight for her, to tell her how he really felt, before it was too late.

But first, he had some serious groveling to do. And maybe, just maybe, a chance to turn his pain into the most heartfelt song he'd ever written.

As he allowed himself to be led away for medical attention, Mingyu's mind was already racing with lyrics, a melody forming that he hoped would convey everything he'd been too afraid to say. He'd messed up, pushed away the best thing in his life out of fear and stubbornness. But if there was even a chance that Y/N still cared for him, he'd move heaven and earth to win her back.

Little did Mingyu know, across the room, Y/N was fighting every instinct to run to him, her heart breaking at the pain evident in his eyes. As Seungcheol squeezed her hand reassuringly, Y/N wondered if their plan had worked a little too well. -

Y/N went home to her apartment. She sat curled up on her couch, a glass of wine in hand, trying to process the events of the evening. The company party had not gone as planned – the image of Mingyu's pain-filled eyes as he clutched his bleeding hand was seared into her memory.

Y/N's phone buzzed for the umpteenth time. Another message from Seungcheol:

"Are you sure you're okay? I can come over if you need to talk."

She sighed, typing out a quick reply:

"I'm fine. Just need some time to think. Talk tomorrow?"

As she hit send, a loud, insistent knocking startled her. Y/N glanced at the clock – 1:37 AM. Who could it be at this hour?

The knocking continued, more urgently now. "Y/N! Y/N, I know you're in there! Please… please open up."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She'd recognize that voice anywhere, even slurred as it was now. Mingyu.

Hesitantly, she made her way to the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it to find Mingyu leaning heavily against the doorframe, his usually impeccable appearance in disarray. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, hair a mess, and the unmistakable smell of soju wafted from him.

"Mingyu?" Y/N said, shock evident in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

Mingyu's eyes, glassy from alcohol, focused on her face. A lopsided smile spread across his features. "Y/N… beautiful Y/N. I had to see you. Had to tell you…"

He stumbled forward, nearly falling. Y/N instinctively reached out to steady him, the familiar warmth of his body sending a jolt through her.

"Woah, easy there," she said, guiding him inside and closing the door. "Mingyu, you're drunk. You shouldn't be here."

Mingyu allowed himself to be led to the couch, collapsing onto it with a heavy sigh. "I know, I know. 'm not supposed to be here. But I couldn't… couldn't stop thinking about you. About us."

Y/N perched on the edge of the coffee table, facing him. Despite her better judgment, concern overtook her resolve to keep her distance. "Mingyu, what's going on? Are you okay? Your hand–"

Mingyu waved dismissively, wincing slightly at the movement. His palm was wrapped in a white bandage, a few spots of red seeping through. "It's nothing. Doesn't hurt. Not like…" he trailed off, his eyes growing sad.

"Not like what?" Y/N prompted gently.

"Not like seeing you with him," Mingyu finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N felt her heart clench. This was exactly the reaction their fake dating scheme was meant to provoke, but seeing Mingyu in actual pain made her question the wisdom of their plan.

"Mingyu, I–"

"No, let me… let me say this," Mingyu interrupted, sitting up straighter and fixing Y/N with an intense gaze. "I messed up, Y/N. I messed up so bad. I thought… I thought I could handle seeing you with someone else. Thought it didn't matter. But it does. It matters so much."

He reached out, taking Y/N's hands in his. She knew she should pull away, but found herself frozen, captivated by the raw emotion in Mingyu's eyes.

"I miss you," Mingyu continued, his thumbs tracing circles on her palms. "I miss your laugh, your smile. The way you scrunch up your nose when you're concentrating. I miss the way you make me feel – like I'm more than just a idol, more than just a pretty face or a good voice. With you, I'm just… me."

Y/N felt tears pricking at her eyes. This was everything she had wanted to hear for so long, but the circumstances were all wrong. "Mingyu, you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."

Mingyu shook his head vehemently, then immediately looked like he regretted the motion. "No, no. I'm drunk, yes. But I know… I know what I feel. What I've always felt, even if I was too scared to admit it."

He slid off the couch, landing on his knees in front of Y/N. In any other situation, it might have been comical, but the desperation in his eyes killed any urge to laugh.

"Please, Y/N," Mingyu pleaded, still clutching her hands. "Please give me another chance. Break up with Seungcheol. He's… he's my friend, but he's not right for you. Not like I am. We're… we're meant to be together. I see that now."

Y/N felt panic rising in her chest. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Mingyu wasn't supposed to show up at her door, drunk and emotional, laying his heart bare. She wasn't prepared for this.

"Mingyu, listen to me," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "You're not thinking clearly. We can't… I can't…"

But Mingyu wasn't listening. His eyes had taken on a glassy, unfocused look. "I'll do better this time, I promise. I'll… I'll write you songs. Take you on real dates. Show the whole world how much you mean to me. Just please… please don't leave me."

His impassioned speech was interrupted by a wide yawn. The adrenaline and alcohol seemed to be wearing off, leaving exhaustion in their wake.

"I love you, Y/N," Mingyu mumbled, his head drooping. "I love you so much. Please… please just…"

And with that, Mingyu slumped forward, his head coming to rest in Y/N's lap. Within seconds, soft snores filled the air.

Y/N sat frozen, her mind reeling. Mingyu's words echoed in her head, everything she had longed to hear for months. But was it real? Or just the ramblings of a drunk, jealous man?

Gently, she extricated herself from under Mingyu, laying him out on the couch and covering him with a throw blanket. She allowed herself a moment to study his face, peaceful in sleep, before retreating to her bedroom.

As she lay in bed, sleep eluding her, Y/N's thoughts were a jumbled mess. The fake dating plan had worked – perhaps too well. Mingyu had confessed his feelings, but at what cost? And what would happen in the morning, when he woke up in her apartment with a killer hangover and the memory of his whiskey-soaked confessions?

One thing was clear: the game they'd been playing had just gotten a lot more complicated. And Y/N had a sinking feeling that someone's heart was bound to get broken in the process – quite possibly her own.

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:

🍇DIONYSUS; God of Wine making, fertility, theater, festivity, and insanity. 🎭

author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

You get claimed in an untypical manner. You heard of demigods waiting for a sign of their godly parent claiming them, with a glowing symbol above their head. Instead, when you get introduced to the camp members, Mr. D appears carrying a can of diet coke and casually states “No need to put them in the Hermes’ cabin. They're one of mine's”

Cue the record scratch. This immediately brings a lot of confusion and gossip. Many eyes look between you and Mr. D who doesn't seem bothered at all. You saw Chiron sigh and place his hand to his face, giving your godly father a disappointed headshake. Then you hear Castor and Pollux yell that they have a new sibling that they didn't even know about?!

You get a lot of looks of sympathy and jealousy. You don't figure out why until a little bit later on. Chiron fills you in with a reassuring voice but also speaks with an exasperated tone to Dionysus 

Although you guys can't make wine or touch anything alcohol related, you did inherit Dioynsus' wine making skills. This includes also being good at making infused drinks or mixing drinks that range from mixing soda flavours together to making your tea blend. Even if the flavours shouldn't work together or whatever the drink type you're making, you just can. You are your own personal barista.

Putting this first and out of the way, you're both in a blessed and awkward situation where you are able to see and interact with your godly parent. Mr. D tries to treat you like every other demigod in Camp Halfblood, and that makes it awkward when you don't know if you should call him “Dad” or “Mr. D”, but at the same time, you know you have it better then others. 

It doesn't mean Mr. D doesn't keep an eye out. When you dedicate your offerings to the gods and look at him when you do it, you can just see Dionysus’ face soften and his eyes have a hint of affection. 

Don't ask how you or your other half-siblings came to be if Mr. D was sentenced to Camp Halfblood. You won't get an answer from but at least you know you're not alone and the twins are glad to have a baby sibling. Get ready for the youngest sibling treatment. 

Dionysus is the God of Theatre so you have a theatrical flare. Even if you're introverted, you're not exempt; this can be applied in how you do certain things or be rather convincing at times. If you're extroverted, well, you're automatically the Theatre kid. 

This turns out to be rather useful in events like Capture the Flag in a state of mania. When the heat of the battle starts to get to you, you feel your godly parent's power begin to rise in you and you can use that theaters flair to rouse your teammate's spirits up. You can also get a bit maniac and effect your teammates and enemies alike and become rather terrifying. 

You have a bit of a green thumb so you can find some solace with the Demeter kids. However, unlike the Demeter kids who can just make plants grow and flourish, your green thumb only really applies to plants you have an interest in like Dionysus with his grapes…or now strawberries. Regardless, you can keep a houseplant alive at least. 

Aside from a few very selected people within Camp, you're one of the few people who has seen Mr.D's true form. Not his godly form or the Mr. D you've seen, but the form he usually shows in front of mortals. Then it becomes very obvious how your other parent became so enamoured. You thank him silently for taking up his current form because you’re not going to be ready to hear about Mr. D being a DILF.

“Welcome to Cabin 12!” greeted Castor and Pollux as they opened the door to the cabin. You looked inside and saw how lived in the cabin was. It was clear the twins didn't expect to have another sibling and judging by the absolute shock that your shared father was supposed to be stuck in Camp, they really didn't expect him to have another mortal child.   

You also noticed on one of their nightstands there were stacks of Coke and Pepsi, each belonging to one of the beds. There were copious amounts of it, and you wonder if being a child of Dionysus was a prerequisite of having a drink as your go-to drink. Like wine fo Dionysus…though you heard he had to switch to Diet Coke due to his punishment. 

“Yeah, sorry for the whole…mess,” said Castor as he looked sheepish. “Pollux and I weren't expecting anyone else to be here, especially since it's been so long since we've first arrived. And you know, our dad, being, well-”

Pollux cleared his throat, “What Castor means, despite everything, we're thrilled to have a baby sibling. We've always been together so we're not that alone, but every now and again, we kind of get envious of the other cabins and having other siblings.”

You smiled when the door is knocked and a new bunk bed is being brought in, Castor and Pollux grinned at you. “Come on, let's get your stuff and space ready, and let's go see our dad.”

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

It's Time to Put Hitler to Bed

Over the last 20 years it's become increasingly common when talking about western politics to try and tie the political opposition to Hitler. It goes beyond Godwin's Law at this point, because it's no longer just in internet phenomenon. It happens in real life. In real conversations and real debates. All sides do it. No issue is safe. And it's beyond ridiculous at this point. It needs to stop.

So let's just stop talking about Hitler altogether when it comes to western politics.

He's dead. He's gone. His ideology died with him. Yes, you read that right. National Socialism is dead. It was a very specific ideology with goals and aims beyond being racist and hating Jews. Nowhere on Earth is there a serious National Socialist party with any political power or any chance at gaining any. Modern day neo-nazis are nothing more than edgelord racists desperately trying to grab some of the "shine" Hitler has with other idiots for themselves. They're awful. They're racist. They should grow the fuck up. But they aren't nazis. They aren't storming government buildings and they aren't winning political office. Most of them aren't even committing crimes. They're just sitting online or in a basement somewhere snort-laughing like Bevis and Butthead while they whisper "k*ke" and "n*gger" to each other and post pictures of ovens with captions like "where the Jews go". How basic and boring. They are beyond lame, and it's long past time we stop bigging these people up like they're some huge existential threat to humanity itself. They're not. They're just pathetic losers who have no power over anyone, not even themselves.

Does this mean we should forget the Holocaust? No. Of course not. We should always remember what Hitler did. But if we don't take the right lessons from that dark era in human history, then we might as well forget it because misremembering, on purpose or by accident, is just as bad as forgetting.

Hitler was an evil man who did evil things. He is a cautionary tale to never let rhetoric overwhelm your better nature. He is a warning of what happens when you give into hate out of fear or anger. But that's it. He does not influence anyone with power. Not in the west. No one in the west is actually trying to be like Hitler. And as evil as Hitler was, not everything he did was automatically evil just because he did it. And that right there is the main problem with the modern trend of accusing everyone you don't like of being Hitler. Hitler did a lot of things. He woke up. He ate breakfast. He fell in love. He breathed air. He got dressed. He gave speeches. He liked art. He was a human being. I don't say this to downplay the evil things he did or to try and create sympathy for him. But surely you can easily see how literally every single person on Earth has something in common with Hitler just by virtue of also being a human being, yes?

Hitler was also a politician. Which means that, yeah, every politician is going to have a position that's at least similar to something Hitler proposed or enacted in his political career. His views and platforms ranged far and contain things that are both left and right wing. Things which, in the hands of someone other than Hitler, most likely would not have led to the Holocaust. Because the Holocaust is an evil that was unique to Hitler. He baked genocide into his ideology, then codified and streamlined it after gaining power. His was a cold and inhumane calculation that only the Aryan race as he defined it was worthy of life. That every other race, everyone who didn't fit his idea of purity, must be killed to preserve his Master Race. There have been other genocides before and since, but none quite as industrialized and far reaching. And, in the west at least, there is no one with any power who wants to reenact anything that even comes close to the Holocaust. Not even that politician you really hate. Not even that activist group that promotes that awful ideology.

All accusations of being Hitler, or like Hitler, do is muddy the already opaque waters of modern western political discourse. And people are so bored with Hitler comparisons. He doesn't evoke the same emotional reaction he did even 20 years ago because, by this point, everyone even remotely active in western politics or political commentary knows someone who has been accused of being Hitler or a nazi, if they aren't that person themselves. It's become little more than the (supposedly) adult version of "I know you are but what am I?" It's meaningless, it's dumb, and everyone needs to stop doing it.

Stop making posts about how so and so is just like Hitler. Stop re-tweeting/blogging/posting them. Stop bringing Hitler's name into discourse at all. Stop arguing about whether or not National Socialism is right or left wing. Stop pretending that superficial similarities to Hitler or one of Hitler's policies is absolute proof that an ideological opponent is evil.

[specialagentartemis]

ykw i am having so much fan watching you be a hater, that i’ve decided to ask for more. PLEASE give us a rant about a book you hated.

Haha aw I'm honored. And uh I hope you don't have any particular attachment to Becky Chambers. Sorry in advance.

But A Psalm for the Wild-Built won a Hugo and I do not get the love. Book 1 was nice enough, yeah. Book 2 had me tearing my hair out.

Sibling Dex is a restless Tea Monk who serves the God of Small comforts on the science-fantasy planet of Panga. I genuinely love the idea of a tea monk - part therapist, part confessor, travels around to the different towns, mixes tea blends for people, lets them talk about their worries and fears and stresses, and gives them, if not advice, then sympathy and a listening ear and some calming tea. This is meaningful work but they're unhappy. After doing this for a while they're still unsatisfied with their life, so they go into the woods searching for self-actualization, and meet a robot named Mosscap, a wild robot that lives in the woods. See, hundreds of years ago, all the robots "woke up" and became sentient one day, then they staged a quiet rebellion against humanity's greed and industrialization by walking into the woods and never coming back. Now, the continent is split in half: humans stay on the Human Side, and robots stay on the Robot Side. The Robot Side is kept wild and humans are discouraged from going in there because humans can't be trusted not to ruin Nature. The rpbots are welcome to come to the Human Side, they just never have. Dex is the first person in a While to venture into the woods of the Robot Side, and the first human since the great walkout to see a robot. Mosscap gives Dex a lot of philosophical pep talks about not pushing themself so hard, about allowing themself to just rest and appreciate the world without feeling like they need to be Providing A Service to justify their existence. It's a nice theme. Underbaked, imo, but nice. Relateable.

Book 2 was a goddamn mess.

Book 1 mostly takes place in the wilderness of the woods, so it's okay if the nice utopian human community Dex comes from was sketchily-built. It Just Works, and everyone Is Just Nice, this is a science-fantasy parable. There were some issues I had with it - like the strict ideological and physical divide between Nature and Humans, and the fact that Dex's religion seems to be the Only Religion In The World, and it's vaguely secular-humanist with the gods being not "really" gods but names given to primordial forces and philosophical concepts, and the religion not really making any demands of its adherents in any way except to become their best selves and devote themselves to what they like... it's potentially interesting, but overall kinda lazy. It felt like Becky Chambers was aware of the idea that having an enlightened-atheist sci-fi utopia is Problematic, so she made there be a central religion, but she also didn't want it to have any of the ~icky~ things religions have, like belief in anything supernatural, or dietary restrictions, or creeds, or codes of behavior, or expectations to make any kind of sacrifice in any way. All the gods "ask" is that humans observe and appreciate the world. But whatever.

In book 2, Dex and Mosscap return to Dex's society, and the book seems to want to explain how the world works, and oh my GOD is Chambers not prepared to do this.

"Observe and appreciate" is all anyone is asked to do. Book 2, A Prayer for the Crown-Shy, is an ode to ultimate virtue of Doing Nothing. There's this attitude I see in a LOT of utopian fiction, where the author is bluntly just not a good enough author to imagine a utopian society where people act like people, so in the world of Panga, utopian society is achieved through 1) homogeneity 2) no one giving a crap about anything.

As far as I can tell, there is the one religion. Most people are Fine with this. Most people are Fine with anything. There are no characters with distinct personalities. There's no money, except there is, except it's not real money and no one will deny you anything if your balance is in the red, even though your balance is available to be seen by anyone - this does not cause any kind of shame or pride or competition in any way, and Dex doesn't understand why it might. There are no hierarchies or governing bodies, people just volunteer to step up when things need doing (this is portrayed as great and not deeply concerning). There are different communities, but in them, everyone is uniformly nice, friendly, and helpful at all times. There are some parts of nature, like the seashore, where people are not allowed to go because they'll ruin the environment, and this is accepted as correct and necessary. Most people live in hippie, pro-recycling, high-tech, end-of-history green communities; there's one group they visit, however, that doesn't trust technology, and lives in a vaguely sci-fi-Amish way. You might think, Dex travelling around with a robot, this might cause conflict! It does not. The people from this community calmly explain their anti-technology position, Dex calmly explains their pro-technology position, and they politely respect each other. "Not bothered either way" is a phrase that turns up in various permutations a lot and is held up as the good, mature, responsible way to be.

There's a scene where they catch a fish for dinner, and instead of killing it, the scifi-Amish guy says "We let the air do that for us, and they let the fish slowly suffocate to death in the air while they all look on solemnly and sadly. This is portrayed as a deep, beautiful moment of them witnessing and honoring the final moments of a living being's life. And not. y'know. them torturing a living being to death so they can keep their own hands clean.

This is what I mean about the valorization of passivity: observing is all you are ever obligated to do. Letting a fish die in the air is better than killing it quickly and humanely, because doing things gets your hands dirty, while letting things simply happen is the Correct way to do it.

At the end, Mosscap and Dex blow off all their promises and appointments and just hang out at the beach chilling out instead, because do what you want forever, you don't have to do shit. This is the happy affirming ending. Mosscap you fucking said you'd meet with the city leaders as the robot ambassador to the humans, did you tell them you were blowing off this commitment because you didn't feel like doing that anymore??? Did you even let them know??????

It is SUCH a baffling book. The theme wants to be "you are more than your job, you deserve to just Be" and ends up feeling like "you don't have to do anything ever, and no one can make you do anything you don't want to do if you don't feel like it, and you don't owe anyone anything and searching for a purpose in your life is just making you stressed out so chill at the beach instead."

The thing that drives me crazy is like. Mosscap cheerfully tells Dex about robots that spend twenty years in a cave watching stalactites form because they think it's beautiful, and those robots are just as much a valued part of society as anyone else. Appreciating beauty and wonder is good enough, you don't need to be productive. And I'm just. fuckin. like. Humans are not robots! Robots don't need to eat or sleep! Humans need food, and clothes, and shelter, and medical care, and if we don't have SOMEONE working to provide that, we Die! Nice as it would be, we CAN'T just all do nothing forever until we feel like it! We can't do that!

And at the same time, the book bizarrely treats wanting a purpose in life as like... almost disordered. If you are seeking a purpose in life it's because you just haven't let go of your guilt and relaxed enough. It's bizarre. Valorization of passivity. Humans aren't meant to be in nature so we just Shouldn't. Doing nothing and having no strong opinions is the most self-affirmed you can possibly be. Letting a fish suffocate is more moral than quickly breaking its neck or spiking its brain. Someone else will do it. Who, if we're all supposed to be resting and only doing what we feel like? Don't worry about it.

"The heart of this book is comfort [...] There is nothing in it that can hurt you." YOU LIAR BECKY CHAMBERS THE FISH SCENE STILL DISTURBS AND UPSETS ME TO THIS DAY

[reiderwriter]

My Love Is Mine All Mine

Week 2 of my Playlist series 🎧💕

Summary: Spencer Reid always liked broken things, but you didn't think you could be fixed. Maybe all you needed was understanding and companionship.

Warnings: slight angst, case details mentioned - misogyny, kidnapping, etc, but no graphic/ explicit details. Hurt/Comfort.

A/N: Tumblr, please let me post haha I've been good, I promise 🙏 This fic is so late because I've been having some technical issues with tumblr and it has greatly annoyed me, so hopefully if you're seeing this it's been fixed? Who knows... Thank you to everyone who has sent in songs so far for the Playlist series, I'll be cresting the playlist today and posting it for everyone to see and use!

Masterlist || Series Playlist

Falling for Spencer Reid wasn't in your plan for the new year, but looking back, it was probably something that was just bound to happen. 

He'd been the first person to show you any kindness after everything you went through, the first person who hadn't put their own rigid horror at your past before their attempts at sympathy. 

You watched the way people recoiled from you as you told them - bluntly, you had to be blunt - what the man in the cabin had done to you. 

He listened to your words, didn't interrupt, didn't quietly shake in anger, and refuse to meet your eyes like your father did, didn't weep for her baby like your mother did. He took your hand as it shook. He held your gaze. 

It was his job to ask questions, but there weren't many left to answer. 

The only reason you were alive was because his team had tracked the string of bodies to your kidnappers home. You were alive because one of his coworkers had put a bullet through his head, ending your nightmare. 

The very idea of love was repulsive to you as you emerged from that basement in the first days of the next year, and you remembered thinking the snow looked fresh and soft. You remembered wanting to lay in it, to wrap it around yourself like a warm blanket and drift into sleep. The cold ground would be as much comfort as you would allow yourself. 

Because after everything, you knew you didn't deserve love. 

You accepted understanding from him, though. 

When the shock wore off, you were awash in all the misery inflicted upon you. You raged, kicked, screamed, broke things, and made people uncomfortable. Nothing would numb the pain of being trapped inside your head, your head still trapped inside that basement, that cage. 

He came to visit you at the hospital. The nurses had given up on you, were content you were physically healing, and that they had technically done their job but not bothered by your deteriorating mental state. Some days, you swore that they pierced your skin in the wrong places purposefully, not even searching for your vein. 

But then he was there, with a book and a chess board, and he'd asked you if you'd ever played before. 

“No. Chess always seemed too…” You swallowed the bile that drowned your lungs and tried again. “Before, it was boring. An old person game, too many rules. Now… He said we shouldn't do things like this. Said we shouldn't cultivate our minds.” 

It was a confession again, but one that took a weight off your shoulders, and not one that pushed it further down. 

“Would you like to learn?” His tone was so soft and awkward, like a teenage boy asking a girl out on a first date, that you almost giggled. 

“I'll be honest and say you'll never beat me, I've played through most board combinations, including a large proportion of the 10^80 theorised checkmate positions, so if you'd rather do something else, that's fine, or I can leave, too, if… you'd… prefer?” 

You had laughed then, a thing that bubbled up from the pit of your stomach and left your shoulders shaking as you gasped for breath doubled over. 

You'd been in hell for six months, and he'd drawn you out of it for a few moments by rambling about chess. 

“Are you a patient person, Doctor Reid?” 

“I think so.”

“Then set up the board and let's play.” 

He beat you every time, obviously, but you enjoyed his small explanations of the moves, and you did improve slightly. 

More than that, you enjoyed his company. It wasn't that you talked extensively In your hospital room, oscillating between your lowest point and somewhere just a rung above that where the snow was falling and the air was fresh, but that he never looked at you the way others did. 

You were discharged and were sad to lose that small glimmer of normality. He'd come twice a week throughout January, and now you were back in your usual shape. You were being discharged, and so that would end. 

You were surprised that he came to pick you up from the hospital the day you left. 

The parents who had looked everywhere for you for half a year hadn't wanted to, and the close friends from before hadn't spared you a thought since reposting your missing poster on their social media pages. 

But the man you played chess with twice a week, the man who'd carried you out of hell himself was there. 

“Ready to go?” You nodded, dumbstruck, and followed as he grabbed your bag. 

You weren't exactly sure where it was you were going, but you followed the man anyway, only a small part of your brain shouting in protest considering the last time you'd been blindly trusting.

He led you back to an apartment with some bare furnishings but a large window and a warm soft blanket covering the bed. It wasn't his, but yours. 

“Your parents are paying for it. They're taking the city to court due to the circumstances. Apparently, there were numerous phone calls to law enforcement that went unnoticed, but the city is looking to settle, so you don't have to worry about rent for a while, maybe ever again. The WiFi is all set up, hot water is working, and so is the heating. The locks are triple enforced, and I'm right down the hall, so if you need-” 

“What?” 

He blinked at you and suddenly, looking sheepish, as if becoming aware that he'd presumed a friendship between the two of you without consulting you first. 

“I live down the hall.” 

You stared at each other for a few moments as you processed his words. He lived down the hall. He'd driven you to your new home, set everything up for you, and he lived down the hall. 

“You're a good man, Spencer Reid.” You whispered, turning away to not let the moment linger anymore than it already had. 

Chess nights became routine. You'd set up the board and play for an hour or two or until you were sick of losing. 

Gradually, though, the nights got longer. He'd arrive just as you were eating a meal, and you'd invite him to join you, or he'd bring along takeaway and you'd eat quietly together, talking about everything and nothing.  

One day, you'd mentioned a film. A popular one, one you'd loved as a child and still rewatched to this day. 

“I've never seen it, is it good?” He'd said. And in your shock, you jumped up and sent half the chessboard flying. 

“Well, it seems that now our game is over, that we have time to give you an education, Doctor Reid.” 

“I have three PhD's-” 

“And still you haven't seen Clueless?” 

You'd pulled him over to the couch he'd picked out for you, loaded up the movie and then invented a new tradition. 

Chess nights and film nights were separate days of the week. So he could always promise to be around for one of them even if he had to miss the other because of work. 

You didn't ask him about his job anymore. He saved people like you, and you didn't need to be thinking about people like you too much.

What they went through, if they survived physically. If they survived in other ways. 

He always visited you first when he returned, though. There would be a knock on your door at some point in the day or night, and he'd let you know he was home safe. 

Another tradition. You'd opened the door to let him in the first time he'd returned from a case after you moved in, and he'd leaned down and wrapped his arms around you. 

You heard the breath of relief, loud and emotional, and hadn't quite realised it had come from you until a few minutes later. Some part of you had thought he wouldn't come back. 

Now, every time he came home, you ran to the door and quietly comforted each other, reminding the other that no matter what happened, you were both there for each other. 

You weren't sure when traditions and movies turned into love or if it had lingered over you the entire time. You didn't think you could love someone right then, your heart broken into small pieces with the torment you'd suffered. 

But it was stitched back together with pieces of him still lodged inside. He was in the very fabric of your being as you became whole again. 

The truth was that you most likely couldn't find love again because there was no room in your heart for anyone else. And you'd never be able to reschedule chess nights to go on dates anyway. 

You weren't sure if Spencer ever figured out how much of hum you carried around with him, how your eyes followed his lips as he ran through decades of memories to give you the fact he thought would please you the most. You weren't sure if he loved you as much as you did him until you were.

You'd agreed to watch one of his movies for a change, agreeing to stop the streak of 80s brat pack classics to watch a black and white war film from Russia with no subtitles. You'd sat together on that couch under blankets you'd bought together months earlier, and he'd pulled you in closer.

“I want to watch the movie and translate at the same time. You should sit here.” He'd pulled you into his lap, letting your back fall against his chest as his lips fell to your ears, and he began to whisper. 

Sitting there so closely, so intimately, was almost torture. Unconsciously, your head tipped back with his words, displaying your neck and shoulders, silently willing his lips to drift even once. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you did your best not to squirm the entire movie, but with your heart beating out of your chest, it was a hopeless cause. 

“Did you enjoy it?” He whispered as the credits rolled, but you hadn't even noticed the movie had ended. It wasn't until the silence that followed his question stretched out notably that you came back to reality. You couldn't answer, in fact. You gaped for a few short moments, hoping something vague but accurate enough would just pop into your mind. 

As you attempted to negotiate yourself out of distraction, you turned your face to his, but he was closer than you thought.

Your noses touched, and your breaths mingled. His arms still wrapped around your waist, and your blankets still anchored you to one another. 

“I wasn't paying attention to the movie, Spencer. I'm sorry.” The words came out of you so fast, yet so quietly that you were surprised yourself how honest you had chosen to be. 

“Why not?” He asked, eyes having drifted sleepily down to gaze at your lips. 

You didn't answer his question but felt your cheeks flush red. You thought about pulling away, moving back, or at least laughing everything off, but you didn't. You stayed there, still like a deer in headlights. 

“Your voice was too distracting,” You forced some of the tension out of your body and let your head fall against his shoulder again, hoping this moment wouldn't end anytime soon. 

“Distracting?” He sounded concerned and shifted in his seat, lifting you up from your happy place in his arms until you were again face to face. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” 

The look on his face was so concerned and focused that you had to pause for a second to catch your breath. He cared about your comfort so much and paid attention to each word that came out of your mouth. He wanted your happiness more than anything in the world. 

“No. I'm never uncomfortable with you, Spencer.” You were back to whispering now, hands floating up to grab his own, fidgeting by his sides. You bought them up to your face and guided his hands to your cheeks, needing to show him just how comfortable you were with him in actions, not just words. Words could be dishonest. Actions were honest. 

His concern melted away as he began stroking your cheek with his thumb, smiling sweetly at you. 

Though you were both content, you'd never been quite this intimate before. So when his thumb swiped over the corner of your lips, your eyes both caught on each other. You could see him weighing up the outcomes in his head, going back and forth between pulling away and pushing in closer.

Slowly and softly, as though he were trying not to startle you, his head moved closer until his lips were on yours. 

It was a quiet kiss. You wouldn't describe it as fireworks, or butterflies, or anything loud and grand and passionate. It was quiet, and it was right. 

He pulled away seconds later, trying to gauge your reaction, but you followed him away and kissed him again. 

When you finally pulled away, it took you a few seconds to realise you'd climbed back into his lap, unconsciously having moved closer to him. You guiltily looked up, waiting to see any discomfort on his features, but to your surprise, he was busy straightening out your hair. 

“I love you, Spencer,” you whispered as he took care of you. He smiled, looking down at you once again, pulling his arms around you to gently lower both of you down to a laying position on your couch. 

“I love you, too,” he said as you held each other and drifted into contented sleep.

[justwinginglife]

hii! are u still up for request?cause im back again with another hoshina request 😭 can you do hoshina and childhood friend reader ignoring each other for years because reader thought hoshina hates her existence because she joined the sixth div? (friends to lovers trope with a touch of mutual pinning?)

Well hello again, so glad you rejoined the party! I would be happy to write this for you.

The Hoshina Brothers

You had known the Hoshina brothers your whole life but you never thought that picking between them would cause such a divide.

You hadn't meant to pick between them, you didn't even know there were options. You just thought that when a friend asked you for help, you helped them, like any decent person. So when Soichiro Hoshina, your longtime friend, asked you to join his division to help ease him into his new position as Captain with someone he trusted by his side, you said yes in a heartbeat.

What you didn't realize was that buried underneath that request were his true feelings for you and in his mind, with you so close to him everyday, he'd one day have the nerve to reveal those feelings to you. Adding to the list of things you were oblivious about, his brother, Soshiro Hoshina, was also in love with you and he took your enlistment in the Sixth Division as a sign that his brother had finally won you over after years of what appeared to be an even struggle between the two of them. Again, you had no idea this war between the siblings even existed, you were simply happy to be of help to an old friend.

You really should’ve known better- when you’d agreed to follow Soichiro into the Sixth Division, his reaction should’ve been enough to clue you in. He’d scooped you up in his arms and spun you around and around in circles, exclaiming that you were such a lifesaver. You laughed and thought it was such typical Soichiro behavior. And it was- but only because he was typically head over heels for you, unbeknownst to you.

And you really should’ve known better when you told Soshiro the news and he’d stormed off in anger- you figured it was just a bit of sibling rivalry. And it was, but not for the reason you thought. And that anger, that devastating emotion he must've felt- it led to years of silence between the two of you, years you could never repair, could never get back. Years that took a toll on your heart.

Looking back, there were so many ways you could’ve handled it better but how were you supposed to know that both of your closest childhood friends were equally as enamored with you?

So now, here you are, mouth agape, standing in Soichiro’s office in stunned silence as he confesses his longtime feelings for you and you realize just how badly you’ve misread the situation. How badly you’ve misread the last several years.

You want to give him a fair chance, you feel like you owe his efforts this much at least, so you try to imagine being with him. What would waking up to him look like? You try to picture rolling over to snuggle him, but the person you imagine in your bed gazes back at you with eyes like amethysts. You shake your head, trying not to think too hard about it. You begin to think about coming home to him cooking in the kitchen and when you wrap your arms around him, kissing at his muscled back through his compression shirt, he turns to face you, his dark bangs shifting as he wipes the sweat from his forehead and grins at you warmly. You bite your lip as Soshiro floods your brain yet again.

Either Soichiro knows what you're thinking or your silence is too vast for his comfort because he starts to laugh awkwardly and rub the back of his head. "You know what, just forget it."

Right about now, your heart should be sinking in sympathy for him, feeling guilty for making him retract feelings that were so important to him for so long, but now that your heart knows who it belongs to, it can't help but beat a little louder in your chest, as though Soshiro is sitting smug in its chambers.

You finally find enough of your voice to apologize profusely to Soichiro but he just shakes his head, laughing a little, though the sound comes out somewhat pained. "You should tell him, you know."

You choke on your saliva. "T-tell who what?"

He rolls his eyes but then smiles at you and you're glad you can still make him smile even if you can't give him what he wants. "I mean if you never tell him how you feel, I'd be okay with that, then I might actually have a chance with you one day. But I don't know if you'd be okay with that. So maybe you should tell him, alright?" He ruffles your hair like he always does and then hesitates before finally deciding to plant a gentle kiss on the top of your head. Then he leaves you standing in his office in a daze.

Soichiro Hoshina was many things, but you never thought that he'd actually be right for once. Honestly, the way he handled things was almost always wrong. His crumbling relationship with his brother was one such example, but you wondered if that only made him more qualified to speak on the matter. If maybe he knew what it was like to want to say something and to know the pain of it being too late to say it. You were already years too late. But you hope that maybe some part of Soshiro's brain dreams of you in his bed, in his kitchen too, when he tries to think of anyone else.

And that hope is what finally forces your feet from their rooted position in Soichiro's office and propels you towards the Third Division.

Captain Ashiro greets you at the door. You know her from several meetings you and Soichiro have had with the other Captains and Vice Captains from other divisions, but somehow you've never run into Soshiro at these meetings. He must've gone well out of his way to avoid you and you couldn't blame him.

She leads you to his office where the two of you wait as she pages him. You fidget with your fingers as the minutes go by, staring at the floor because if you looked over at her you'd picture Soshiro's lips on her neck or his hands on her hips. She was taller than you, more slender than you, more powerful than you for sure. You couldn't help but wonder if she was his type, if she was already his girl.

As if right on cue, just to drive that stake deeper into your heart, she says "So what exactly is your relationship with my Vice Captain?"

We don't even have a relationship anymore, you think glumly to yourself. You smile weakly. "Ah, he's an old friend."

"Interesting. He's never mentioned you before."

The stake continues to twist its way through your organs. You think you might just bleed out from the metaphorical damage to your heart.

Then you hear his footsteps in the hallway and your heart, remembering the sweet sound, quiets itself to listen.

"Captain, you called for me-" He steps into the office and the wonderful, rhythmic, nostalgic sound of his shoes against the ground grinds to a halt as his eyes find yours. You think he might just bolt right now.

Oxygen sears your lungs as you draw your next breath painfully, realizing you were right. He does want to bolt. He's already begun to turn around with one foot out the door so you blurt out the only thing you can think of to stop him, "I LOVE YOU DAMNIT!"

He freezes in his tracks.

Captain Ashiro chokes as she hears your words, now understanding the gravity of the situation. "I think I'll be taking my leave now." She passes Soshiro on the way out and shoves him back in the room with you before closing the door. Suddenly all that animosity and jealousy you felt towards her earlier is replaced by immense gratitude at this chance she's given you.

"What the hell kind of a greeting is that??" He hisses at you, turning on you suddenly.

Your cheeks feel like you took a blowtorch to them. "Was trying to get you not to... leave me?" You say uncertainly.

He scoffs. "We don't talk for years and you think a sudden love confession will get my attention?"

You swallow. "Well... you did stop. Why did you stop?"

He looks away. "Cuz anyone would wanna know why you blurted out that crazy shit, don't go turning this around on me." He grumbles, biting his lip.

You take a step towards him and he sucks in a sharp breath but he doesn't back away.

You dare yourself to take another step and then another. You keep taking each aching step, until you're right in front of him.

Then, without thinking, you sink against him, pulling him close. He stiffens but then he leans into your touch too.

"I missed you, damnit. Stupid Soshiro, ignoring me so long." You don't even know when you started crying, you just know that suddenly his shirt is soaked. But he doesn't seem to mind.

He slowly wraps his arms around you. It's a hesitant gesture but it warms your heart all the same.

"Hey, you ignored me too." He complains but his voice is lighter now, almost teasing and affectionate.

"I th-thought you h-hated me." The words come out shaky and pathetic, drenched in a sob.

He runs his fingers through your hair with one hand and rubs up and down your back with the other. "Shh, shh. I didn't hate you- I don't hate you. I could never hate you."

You continue to squeeze him tight and your tears keep pressing themselves against him, like they're seeping into his very being.

He sighs. "Did you... did you mean what you said?"

You peer up at him, confused, still in a daze. "When I said what?"

He flushes suddenly and you wipe away your tears hurriedly, shocked to see his cheeks a color they've never been before and eager to get a better view. "When you... said you... l-lov... fuck, just forget it."

"I do. I love you. Took me a long time to realize it, but I do."

He straightens at that. "You do? You really mean that?"

You laugh against his chest. "You know, typically when someone admits they love someone else, they usually do mean it."

He scoffs but his gaze is softer now. More hopeful.

You take this chance to explain yourself, to explain the last several years.

He's shocked that you were never in love with Soichiro. Then he grins, smugly.

"Yeah, I always knew you were mine." His chin lifts as he holds his head high with a ridiculous sense of superiority.

You roll your eyes, laughing at him. "Oh did you now? And that's why you had to ask again if I meant that I loved you?"

He flushes again and you think to yourself you could get used to that color. You could get used to being the reason for it.

"But you're right though. I'm yours."

Warmth buries itself deeper into his cheeks as he pulls you closer, sighing happily, kissing your forehead over and over again.

"I'll never let you go again. I'll spend my entire life making up for missed time."

And the one thing you know about Soshiro Hoshina from the years you've known him is that he always makes good on his promises.

[captainsophiestark]

Crib Construction

Cassian x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: ACOTAR

Summary: Cassian and his mate have been tasked with putting together Nyx's crib. Unfortunately, it's a harder task than they thought it would be.

Word Count: 1,282

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Cass, come here. Does this look right?"

My boyfriend didn't waste a second before joining me on the floor, kneeling behind me and looking over my shoulder. Neither of us spoke for a minute, then I heard a rustling of paper as Cassian sighed.

"Yeah, it looks right. That hasn't stopped it from being wrong before, though."

"Well, let's just hope for the best."

I could feel through the mating bond just how little Cassian wanted to do that, but he knew as well as I did that we didn't have much other choice. I took a deep breath, then gently pressed the two pieces of wood before me together, trying to get them to link like they were supposed to.

Of course, it didn't work. I added slightly more pressure, but still nothing. I put my entire weight and all of my strength into it, and when the damn thing still didn't budge, I let out a scream and shoved both pieces away from me before I could really lose my temper and accidentally break something.

"This is bullshit!" I shouted, whirling around to face Cassian. He had a look of grim resignation, meeting my eyes with sympathy. Our positions had been exactly reversed about ten minutes ago. "Rhys set this up as a way to get back at you for winning the snowball fight last time, and I'm getting caught in the collateral. This sucks."

"Honestly, maybe he did," Cass said, sighing and leaning back on his hands. "Or maybe Az did something to break this one too before he got kicked off the job."

I groaned, flopping over and into Cassian's side to lay against his chest and stare at the ridiculous contraption that had been defeating us all afternoon. Rhys and Feyre had asked us to assemble Nyx's crib, and at first, we'd been honored and happy to help. But hours later, when nothing was going right and none of the pieces were fitting together the way they were supposed to, I was about ready to throw all of it out the window and into the Sidra below.

We'd been given the task in the first place because Az had shattered the same type of crib to pieces after spending a day being stumped by the puzzle. Cassian and I had inherited the task for our ability to keep each other calm, and because we were generally less destructive when continually frustrated by a puzzle. This crib was about to ruin that reputation.

"Okay, maybe we should just start over from the beginning," I said, sitting up and turning to face Cassian after our brief rest. "Like, take everything apart and lay it all out on the floor again, then start back from step one."

Cassian groaned. "Honestly, I hate that idea. But what we're already doing clearing isn't working, so..."

"So let's try it. Deep breaths, and then a total reset. A fresh start."

"...Alright. Let's do it."

With a lot of heavy sighing, Cassian and I took apart what little progress we'd made, separating the crib back into its individual parts, the way it had come. Once we got it all laid out again, I took the instruction manual from Cass and laid that out in front of us, too. With one last deep breath, we started in again at step one on page one.

I wish I could say this attempt went better. But it didn't. Cassian and I almost destroyed the whole thing Az-style in a fit of frustration three times each, one of us barely managing to pull the other back every time. We were just lucky our destructive streaks never lined up, or the pieces of the crib before us would've already become nothing more than a pile of ash.

"Alright, that's it!" Cass finally shouted, standing up abruptly from where we'd been trying to wrestle together the corners of the crib with no luck, despite using both our strength at once. "I'll be right back."

"What?" I flung my arms out to either side of me as Cassian headed for the door. "You're abandoning me? Seriously?"

"Not abandoning! Changing tactics."

Before I could ask for clarification, Cassian was out the door. I stared after him, waiting for him to reappear or say he was kidding or something, but he didn't. I huffed, then shook my head and turned back to the crib, its pieces still mostly laid out on the floor.

I sat there and stared at the pieces for a few long beats, contemplating my next move. Honestly, I'd just about decided to throw them out the window and tell Rhys the thing'd never been here when the door came swinging open again.

I turned to find Cassian striding towards me, the confidence and determination back in his step. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just grinned.

"I've solved all our problems."

I snorted, but smiled at Cassian all the same as he came to a stop before me. The fact that he'd managed to make me laugh at all in the middle of this nonsense was exactly why we were mates, and it made me love him even more.

"Cass, you know I love you, and you know I trust you, but... I'm having a hard time seeing how that could possibly be true. Unless you convinced Mor to take over for us...?"

"No, but just as good." I raised an eyebrow, and Cassian's grin widened as he dropped down next to me. Slowly, from behind his back, he pulled out a hammer, tape, and a few other supplies.

I just stared at everything for a moment, then snorted and leanded into Cassian. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"Babe... we can't use that stuff to put this crib together."

"Why not?"

"Because it won't be sturdy enough! We don't want it to give out while the baby's in it. We both know we can't risk that."

Cassian hummed, rocking forward just enough to get a few of the pieces of the crib into his hands. He lined them up like we'd been doing all day, then raised the hammer in his other hand.

"Maybe you're right about the tape," he said. "But all we need to fix this is a little extra power. We can't force it together with our strength alone, so we'll use a hammer."

"Cass-"

Before I could get another word out, Cassian swung the hammer. I could see him putting his full Illyrian strength into it, and sure enough, the pieces whacked together. Unfortunately for us, they also splintered into more pieces than would be fixable, even with tape.

Cassian and I just stared at the wreckage for a moment, neither of us speaking. Cassian was the one to break first.

"Shit."

I laughed, all the stress and ridiculousness of the past few hours disappearing along with our hopes of actually succeeding at our task. I leaned into Cassian, and a moment later, he joined me.

"Well, that didn't go like I was hoping," sighed Cassian. I laughed again.

"Really? That's not what you were going for?"

"Not quite."

We shared a smile, then slumped back together, Cassian's arm around my waist as I leaned into his chest. I sighed, staring at the ruins of the crib before us. Not a single part of me wanted to do something about fixing it.

"So... how about we call Mor and find a way to pass this on to her?"

I laughed, then nodded as I leaned even further into Cassian.

"Baby, I was thinking the same thing. You, me, and Az have had to tear our hair out over this thing already, I think it's her turn."

"And even better, if any of us has to call Amren in, it'll be Mor."

"Exactly."

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Maasverse Taglist: @lilah-asteria

[weepingchronicles]

Hii!! I am the same annon who requested the yan!Jinx with a darling on hunger strike. I saw that I am allowed to make more requests.

First of all I'd like to say that I LOVED the hc u made!

Second of all, if its not too much trouble, could I pretty please with cherry on top request a yan! Jinx with a fem or afab darling who got her/their period(whatever pronouns you are more comfortable with)(bacically due to stress of the abduction she didnt get her period for a while and now it finally came).

Also, do Arcane ladies even her periods? Like- idk how to explain it but I dont get the vibe they would??? Does it make sense???(as somebody who is on her period, I would be so jealous if they didnt. If they did, then I feel pity bc...where do they get pads in the under ground to begin with??)

Anyways, I am really sorry if this is too long ot counts as spam and if you dont feel comfy about writting about this topic, please ignore it!!

Have a wonderfull day and make sure to drink enough water!

a/n: hello! i am so glad you liked it! ♡ thank you for requesting as well! don't worry, this isn't spam. i am just glad you enjoy my writing. this is also written from my own experience with periods since i am afab. i chose to do afab reader since not only women have periods and i want all to feel represented !! although i can not write for someone else's personal expression for obvious reasons. thank you for all the support!

cw: period, yandere behavior, past abduction/kidnapping, stockholm syndrome(?)

❝yandere!jinx x afab!reader getting their period❞

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 The thought that you hadn't gotten your period in several months hadn't even occurred to you. The stress and entire adjustment period had kept your mind pretty much occupied. Dealing with Jinx's schizophrenic ass and ideas of escape had filled most of your thoughts. Your last wouldn't have even been your goddamn period!

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 But here you were, dealing with cramps and feeling groggy as hell. Your depression had already been bad enough after you were kidnapped but now it feels like hell. All you want is to hide in your bed and forget the world. The world? Sure, but you can't forget Jinx.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You knew eventually you had to tell Jinx, she would understand but the idea of discussing your period with your captor.. just feels wrong. Perhaps it was because you didn't want to come to terms that you've been here for nearly a year. The idea of sharing this vulnerable side of yourself felt too awful to bear.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 But it was futile.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Soon enough Jinx comes skipping, yapping about something crazy that happened while she was out in the city. Almost bragging that she could freely roam outside but you couldn't.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She almost didn't notice your silent lackluster attitude. To be fair, ever since you've been taken you hardly wanted to talk much and Jinx didn't seem to mind that.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "What's up with you, firecracker? Got your period?" She laughs at her own joke, throwing her head back until she looks back at you, your deadpan face telling her it was indeed your period.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "Oh." Her tone and face immediately softens with sympathy and she sits down beside you, throwing her weapon out of the way.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "Do you, erm, need anything?" It almost feels better seeing that Jinx is as uncomfortable with this situation as you are. Maybe more. She wasn't the most caretaking nurturing type, but when you needed something she was happy to supply.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "Well, my cramps are really awful and I feel exhausted."

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She nods, suddenly running circles around her hideout as she gathers supplies for you. She comes back carrying a bunch of blankets and a hot water bottle for your stomach. She dumps it all on the bed.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "Need anything else?" She asks, it amused you to some extent to see her running around, collecting and doing anything for you.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "Some food would be nice," her eyes widen and she darts in the other direction, after awhile coming back with a bowl of soup in her hands. You don't think you've seen her be this gentle before.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 After some pampering and warm soup filling your belly you feel a lot better than you were before. Somehow through it all, Jinx manages to curl up beside you, her lithe form strewn over you like a human blanket. It was funny as she snored and her blue hairs hung in front of her face.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Perhaps this wasn't as bad as you thought it'd be.

artist credits: @/iwantmoretime17 on instagram

[apenitentialprayer]

why do anglicans still exist like their entire church is built on the fact that some guy wanted a male heir. or do anglicans believe that this isn't rly why their church came about

Okay, I do love clowning on my Anglican friends, but there are a few angles (da dum tss) that we can look at in terms of why the Anglican Church is a distinctive tradition.

Theologically, the Anglican Church might have started off as "Catholic without the Pope," so to speak; the Anglican Church was essentially Gallican in nature, meaning that the head of the church wasn't the seniormost bishop, but the head of the state. But even if it started off simply being in schism with the Roman Church, it didn't take very long before Reformed theology started entering the Church through the efforts of Anne Bolelyn, Thomas Cromwell, and especially Edward VI. There were preceding documents, but the Thirty-Nine articles passed by Queen Elizabeth I in 1571 helped to solidify a distinctively Anglican identity.

But it's a little more than that, too, because in addition to this Protestantization of the Anglican Church, there have also been movements within to.... "Latinize" might be the wrong word, but to bring back some traditional Catholic elements. We see this, for example, in the Oxford movement of the 1830s; many of its members would end up converting to Catholicism or Eastern Orthodoxy, but those who remained behind started the Anglo-Catholic movement which still has a strong presence. (My girlfriend goes to an Anglo-Catholic parish, and our city has at least three other ones).

This kind of dual accommodation of Reformed and Catholic theological ideas has created a unique situation for the Anglican Church; Bishop J. Neil Alexander tries to articulate this by distinguishing the Anglican Church as a "pragmatic church," in contradistinction with "confessional churches" (Catholic & Lutheran, which focus on creeds and councils) and "experiential churches" (Baptist and other groups whose memberships require a born-again moment):

What, then, does it mean to be pragmatic? It means that within the generous capacity of the Episcopal [American Anglican] Church, we do not always agree on matters of biblical interpretation or theological definition. It means that we have all gotten here by way of hundreds of different and often unique experiences of God's presence in our lives. It means that those things which other churches depend to hold themselves together will never be a central feature of our common life. We find our life together driven by our willingness to stand together at the table of God's gracious hospitality. […] That, I believe, is the pragmatism at the heart of what it means to be an Episcopalian. We are a variegated tapestry of theology and experience, and we are all the richer for it. But no level of theological agreement or experiential commonality will ever be the basis on which Episcopalians will live together well. What is possible is that we will be pragmatic —we will keep our differences in perspective— and we will recognize that ultimately nothing will divide those who are willing to stand together before God's altar to sing, to pray, and to receive the gift of God's eternity.

Now, this is a very fascinating situation, because it means that the Anglican Church has a lot of diversity in religious thought and doctrinal opinion. On an official level, that means you will have bishops aligning with different theological orientations working side by side — and, in theory, the office of Archbishop of Canterbury is supposed to alternate between Anglo-Catholic and Evangelical holders. On a more personal level, I have found that the Episcopal clergy who I interact with have varying spiritualities and theologies; one priest I know has Catholic sympathies that are so strong that he was referred to as "the Papist" in seminary, while another clergymember I know doesn't think Confession is necessary and is ambivalent about her parish's practice of Eucharistic Adoration. And they work at the same church.

Liturgically, they are also distinctive. The current bedrock of Anglican prayer is the 1662 Book of Common Prayer, which is clearly inspired by Benedictine spirituality, but with continuing liturgical revision and innovation that kind of fits with the 'pragmatic church' mindset explained above. Some Anglican parishes even preserve pre-Tridentine traditions (remember, they split before the Council of Trent), like the Sarum Use.

The Anglican Church has had a developing liturgical patrimony for the past five centuries; one of the reasons why the Catholic Church created the Anglican Ordinariate was because it recognized that fact, and wanted former members of the Anglican Church to be able to preserve their traditions even after re-entering communion with Rome.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, like, the Anglican Church may have started off as a more-or-less Catholic particular church that was in schism with Rome, a schism orchestrated by a king who wanted fuller control over the Church in his country, but the Anglican Church has had five centuries of development. And, as much as I like to clown on my Anglican friends, I can definitely see why the Anglican communion has a deep appeal.

[theinsanefoxwriter]

Gregory Deserves Better...

I never make actual posts to be honest, but I feel the need to right now, because I’m just so…tired of this. My favorite character in the newer FNAF era has been mistreated by both fans and the creators. So I’m making this in light of the new book coming that, at least from the description we have right now, sounds like it’s just Security Breach, except Gregory is replaced by Cassie.

I’ve said many times elsewhere how I suspected they wanted to boot Gregory for Cassie, and...I had no idea how right I actually was. It angers me, but…mostly, I’m just hurt and very disappointed, because it sucks to see a character I loved get so disrespected then practically replaced. The ending of Ruin felt like a slap in the face, and the sting is only getting worse. (And very quickly, in case anybody takes this from what I'm saying, no I don't hate Cassie. I just don't want her to completely replace Gregory.) I’m not here to talk about that situation, though.

If anyone for some reason leaves a comment arguing the points I make, I’m just going to ignore or even delete it. I’m not here to discuss or argue with people who disagree with me and/or think Gregory is a bad character. I just want to express an opinion that I don’t think is said nearly enough. And that opinion is the fact Gregory is severely misunderstood and mistreated by both the fandom and canon itself. I’m not going to get into everything, but enough that you can hopefully understand the point I’m trying to make.

Most of the Gregory hate at the beginning was due to him destroying the animatronics and then lying about it to Freddy. I don’t see how this makes him hateable or a bad person. “Why’d he have to go out of his way to destroy them?” “He’s a bad person for lying to Freddy and giving him the upgrades of his friends.” “The Glamrocks were so awesome. Why did Gregory have to do that?” What kid in danger would want to help or be nice to the scary robots trying to kill them? Or against the better argument, why would he have sympathy for them in a moment of intense danger? When they were actively trying to kill him? He did what he thought he needed to survive, which was destroying them and using the good parts they had to give him a better chance against them. If they had been nice, he would have liked them, but they weren’t. They were after him. And choosing to do that plus being able to do that doesn’t make him a bad person, and it doesn’t mean he's uncaring towards others or that he’s heartless. What I think people don't take into account is that Gregory did befriend an animatronic, the one who wasn't attacking him. He went to great lengths to help Freddy, and genuinely cared for him; that bear needed to be rescued on more than one occasion lol, and Gregory clearly wasn't just doing it because Freddy gives him a hiding place.

And in regard to the lying, I think Gregory hid that he was getting the upgrades from Freddy's friends, because he didn't want to make Freddy mad or hurt his feelings. That does sound like something a kid would do, and he is a kid. He's not gonna be perfect in this situation, and he doesn't even do anything that bad. I don't think Gregory gets enough credit. Everybody just sees a mouthy kid destroying animatronics they like (despite the fact they're hunting him, and the virus has made them basically mindless. Why wouldn’t he?), and they hate on him for it and other rather stupid reasons. Gregory is more than the “annoying” kid who destroyed your favorite animatronics. He’s a clearly guarded and defensive child who got stuck in a bad and terrifying situation, but…in the end, stayed anyway to prevent this and other bad things from happening to anyone else. Gregory cares. Yes, even if he destroyed some animatronics. The creators calling him the “darkness of the Pizzaplex” or whatever they said doesn’t make sense. On the surface, he might look like some child who destroyed Freddy’s friends, but look any deeper at all, and that’s not the case. There’s so much potential for his character, and I’m upset that he isn’t being given the spotlight or time to further explore his potential properly, especially since Security Breach ended up being a bit lacking in a lot of areas: perhaps another factor in why he’s so misunderstood.

In the end, I’m simply tired of seeing a character that I connected with treated like he was just a writing mistake that now needs to be replaced by a “better” character. I’m not saying his writing was perfect, but he deserves way better than this. I feel very passionate about the characters I like, which is why this has affected me so much, and I hope at least a few people see this.

Anything I missed I’m going to touch on briefly here:

GGY? A cool concept, actually, that I wish was utilized in the games. And Gregory is clearly possessed there, similar to Vanessa, so him being Patient 46 and causing people’s deaths can’t actually be held against him.

Dropping the elevator on Cassie? I firmly believe that was not him, and very clearly the Mimic’s doing. There’s solid evidence behind it, but I’m not going to get into it because it’s exhausting. Just know that no one can convince me otherwise. And even if the writers wanted Gregory to do that, it’s out of character and clearly an act of character assassination.

Thanks for taking the time to read this. Now go hug a misunderstood gremlin!

[valtsv]

i think lots of people who were bullied, mistreated, or ostracized growing up get pretty maladaptive about it as adults........ i see so many people on social media who seem think that what they went through was only bad because THEY didn't deserve it, and if THEY had the social capitol, THEY would've hurt people who DID deserve it, instead. i think having all that anger and pain in their hearts makes it hard to imagine a world without the violence they went through, so they fantasize about redirecting it "positively" rather than striving for a world where no one hurts like they did. i think it's a testament to your character that you went the opposite way, but i'm unfortunately not surprised some people have a kneejerk response to you taking accountability for your own behavior & refusing to continue the cycle of violence, since it doesn't square with their own ideas of victimhood. thanks for saying everything you have on this situation and being an all around kind, positive presence on my dashboard <3

no i completely agree, because for a time i WAS one of those people. i was so miserable and bitter about my own pain that i was jealous of everyone around me and perceived other people enjoying their own lives as a personal attack, and punched down out of fear of being knocked back down to the very bottom of the social ladder after i'd just managed to climb out of there myself. fortunately i've always had a personal principle that i can't expect anyone to do anything i'm not willing to do myself, so recognition of my own hypocrisy knocked me back on track pretty quickly when i realised that i could hardly expect anyone to ever extend any compassion or sympathy to me if i wasn't going to make the same effort on my part. and i won't pretend it was easy, because when you've been traumatised for most of your life it is incredibly hard to have faith in anyone ever again, and open yourself up to the possibility of being hurt by lowering your defences enough to let other people get close. but trust me when i say that it's worth it. no matter how hard an uphill battle it is, it's worth every step. i'm a much happier, more successful, loved and confident person because i let myself move forward.