#and we missed it because it was PAINTED OVER

[hanniebaeee]

Clueless: Smitten

Jeongin x fem!reader

Warning: unhinged group chat as always, other than that, nothing!

Genre: friends to lovers, fluffffff

Summary: You and Jeongin go to the same MMA class, and he is absolutely smitten by you. And you two are good friends too. The problem? You treat him like a child, when all he wants is to ask you out. And that's where his unhinged gang enters.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Jeongin wiped the sweat off his brow, giving his opponent a nod after their sparring session, and turned around to see you pulling on your gloves. Your ponytail swayed as you hummed a tune to yourself, and Jeongin swallowed hard.

He did his best to control his impulses (such as the one he had right now to to come over and kiss the hell out of you).

But he was not weak (mostly). He was Yang Jeongin, the future ace of this gym and your soon-to-be love interest - if only he could figure out how to get you to stop patting his head like he's some cute puppy.

“Hey, Innie!” you called out, flashing him a smile that made his knees weak. “Good job!”

He smiled and thanked you, as you came over, and did that one thing that made him want to scream into oblivion. You ruffled his hair with that adoring smile on your face. And it made him feel like a toddler.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Jeongin let out a groan and grabbed his phone. He knew what this would lead to. Obviously. But he needed his brothers.

---

Jeongin: Ok. I'm gonna cry.

Chan: Aren't you at class??

Jeongin: She did it again.

Jeongin: She ruffled my hair. AGAIN.

Hyunjin: LOLLLLLLL

Jeongin: Shut up. I’m serious.

Felix: Omg. Is this the MMA girl?

Jeongin: YES. I can't understand why she treats me like a damn child.

Minho: Because you act like one?

Jeongin: YAH. I need a plan to make her see me as a MAN.

Jisung: Bro, just spar with her and like…accidentally tear your shirt or something. Girls love muscles.

Hyunjin: You do not have the muscles for that to work.

Jeongin: HYUNJIN.

Hyunjin: I’m just saying 🤷‍♂️

Felix: Invite her to dinner! Like, after practice? Nothing says “boyfriend material” like a home-cooked meal.

Seungmin: Cooking takes time. Which he doesn't have. He’s so obviously in the friend zone. He needs something that works fast.

Chan: You’re all missing the point here. Jeongin, be honest. Do you flirt with her?

Jeongin: I TRIED.

Jeongin: I told her she looked good in her gloves once. She said thanks and told me where to buy the same pair.

Minho: Wow. That’s rough.

Hyunjin: Okay, new idea.

Hyunjin: Go alpha on her. Next time you spar, pin her down. Like real close. Look her in the eyes and growl something like, “You’re not getting away from me this time.”

---

Jeongin rolled his eyes. Here we go.

---

Jeongin: That's crazy.

Jisung: No, wait, Hyunjin’s onto something. Girls LOVE dominance.

Chan: Or, you know, you could try talking to her like an adult.

Jeongin: I’m trying, hyung, but every time I look at her, my brain short-circuits.

Felix: Omg wait. This is perfect. You could do the classic “let me fix your form” move.

Felix: Stand behind her, adjust her stance, hands on her hips. It’s foolproof.

Seungmin: It’s not foolproof. He’ll trip over his words and fall on his face.

Jeongin: Oh my God.

Changbin: No, no, I’ve got it. Show up outside her place with some flowers and confess.

Hyunjin: Or better yet, let’s sign you up for a fight. Invite her to watch. Show her you’re tough.

Minho: He’ll get punched once and she’ll call an ambulance.

Jeongin: WHY DO I EVEN ASK YOU PEOPLE.

The next morning, Jeongin walked into the gym with a nervous buzz, the ideas his brothers had fired at him the night before poking at his brain.

Jisung: Bro. Let me paint you a picture.

Jisung: You’re sparring. She throws a punch. You dodge.

Jisung: Grab her wrist, pull her in close, whisper, “Is that all you’ve got?” Then SMIRK.

Jeongin: Why would I smirk???

Jisung: Because it’s HOT.

Minho: Creepy. Definitely creepy.

Hyunjin: No, he needs to go bolder.

Hyunjin: After sparring, pin her against the wall in the locker room. Close the space, and say, “You drive me insane, you know that?”

Chan: Please do NOT harass her in the locker room.

Felix: Yeah, don’t listen to Hyunjin. What you should do is compliment her strength. Like, “Wow, you’re so strong and gorgeous.”

Seungmin: That’s so cringey. She’ll laugh in his face.

Felix: Okay, why don't you come up with some genius ideas then?!

Changbin: No, listen to me. Women love confidence. Next time you walk in, wink at her. Just a subtle one. She’ll notice.

Jeongin: If I wink at her, she’ll think I have something in my eye.

Jisung: Then STARE at her. Give her those bedroom eyes.

Jeongin: I don’t even know what that means.

Hyunjin: Oh my god. This is so easy. After practice, challenge her to a one-on-one sparring match. Get sweaty. Let her feel your power. And if you win, you say, “Winner gets a kiss.”

Chan: She’ll knock him out first.

Minho: Honestly, I’d pay to see that.

Jeongin: I will block you all.

Hyunjin: NO YOU WON’T. You love us.

---

Jeongin was standing in the gym’s parking lot after his class, trying to call Chan to come pick him up, when he saw you approaching him. You were smiling, your bag on your shoulder, your hair, that's usually in a ponytail, now left open.

“Hey, Jeongin,” you said, your voice light and teasing as usual. “Nice work today. You’re really improving.”

He stuttered a thank you, and smiled at you nervously, his cheeks heating up.

And then it happened.

You reached out, ruffled his hair affectionately, and grinned. “Such a good boy.”

Jeongin froze. His brain short-circuited. Good boy?!

He could literally hear his brothers screaming in his head.

“Say something,” Minho’s voice mocked.

“Pin her!” Hyunjin roared.

“WINK, YOU COWARD!” Jisung howled.

Instead, Jeongin stood there like a statue.

“Innie?” you tilted your head, eyes soft with concern. “You okay?”

That snapped him out of it.

“Y-yeah! Totally fine!” He cleared his throat. This was it. This was his chance to say something smooth.

“Uh…you’re…really so strong and…so gorgeous?”

The moment the words left his mouth, he wanted to die.

You blinked at him. And then, to his utter shock, you laughed - a bright, genuine laugh that made his heart do a somersault.

“Well, thanks, Innie. You’re not so bad yourself.”

As you waved goodbye and walked off, Jeongin leaned against a car, face in his hands.

---

Jeongin: I HATE YOU ALL.

Chan: Ok calm down. What happened?

Jeongin: I TRIED FELIX’S LINE.

Jeongin: SHE LAUGHED AT ME.

Felix: Wait, was it a good laugh or a bad laugh?

Jeongin: HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?!

Hyunjin: LOL

Changbin: Did you at least wink?

Jeongin: NO.

Jisung: Bro. Amateur move.

Seungmin: Probably should’ve gone with the “winner gets a kiss” idea.

Jeongin: I’M NOT DOING THAT.

Minho: You’re hopeless.

Chan: Guys, come on. Jeongin, did she seem like she was into it?

Jeongin: She called me a ‘good boy’.

Hyunjin: RIP.

Felix: Don’t give up! She laughed. That’s good!

Minho: Yeah, she’s laughing because she thinks he’s a puppy.

Felix: Puppies can grow into wolves, bro.

Jeongin: You’re all insane.

Changbin: Hey, wolves mate for life. Just saying.

Jeongin groaned, shutting his phone. If this was the kind of help he was getting, he might as well wing it.

Jeongin lay sprawled on his bed, phone in hand, mind racing with thoughts of you. He had officially entered what Jisung would call his ‘simp phase’. Your Instagram page was open, each photo worse than the last - worse because it made him fall harder.

There was one of you holding a tray of cookies, grinning. Another of you proudly presenting a painting up to the camera. The cat one nearly killed him - you were snuggled up with your orange tabby, its paw on your nose as you laughed.

And there was one with the MMA team - you had your arm looped with his in this one, your head tilted slightly towards him. It was a group photo, but that's all he could see. the two of you.

“I love her,” he whispered to himself, then immediately groaned into his pillow. “Oh my god, I love her!!”

---

Jeongin: Guys.

Jeongin: I’m in love with her.

Chan: We know.

Hyunjin: Wait, did you just figure that out?

Jeongin: No, but it’s hitting me all over again. I’m looking at her Instagram.

Jisung: Omg, show us.

Jeongin: No way.

Minho: Wow. Stalking her Insta and gatekeeping? Bold of you.

Jeongin: Shut up. She’s perfect. She bakes. She paints. She loves cats.

Minho: Cats? Suddenly she's a lot more interesting.

Jisung: Innie, DM her something flirty.

Jeongin: That’s so cringey I might die.

Chan: You guys are going to ruin his life.

Hyunjin: He needs to grow a spine. Just do it, Jeongin. Be bold.

Felix: OR…

Felix: Next time she posts something cute, comment something sweet. Like, “You’re so talented.” Compliment her! Girls love compliments.

Seungmin: That’s decent advice.

Jeongin: I can’t do that. She’ll think I’m obsessed.

Minho: You are obsessed.

Jisung: Or… Post a thirst trap. Let her know you’re hot too.

Jeongin: A thirst trap?! Like what?

Jisung: I dunno. Shirtless mirror selfie? Women eat that up.

Changbin: You don’t have enough abs for that.

Jeongin: I DO! STOP ATTACKING ME.

---

The boys were no help, as usual. Jeongin flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He was doomed.

But then, as he refreshed your page, he saw it - a new post.

It was you and your cat again, this time with a caption that read: "My goodest boy 🐾."

Jeongin stared at it. Good boy. Again. The word that haunted his every waking moment. And yet, when you used it like this, he kind of wanted to melt.

He felt his thumb hovering over the like button. His mind raced.

“Cute cat!” No, too boring.

“You’re adorable.” No, too forward.

“Can I be your good boy?” Oh god, Hyunjin was invading his thoughts.

He slapped his phone face-down on the bed.

He couldn’t DM you. He couldn’t comment. What he needed was a real plan to show you he wasn’t just the kid you patted on the head.

---

Hyunjin: New plan. Jeongin, buy her flowers. Deliver them to her home.

Jeongin: That’s not the worst idea.

Jisung: But make it sexy. Like, walk in all sexy and say, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, so I had to bring you these.”

Jeongin: YOU WANT ME TO DIE.

Felix: Wait! What if you bake her something? She likes baking, right? It’s cute and romantic.

Jeongin: I don’t know how to bake.

Chan: That’s what YouTube is for.

Minho: Or Felix can bake and you can pretend you made it.

Changbin: No way, she’d see through that in a second. She’s too smart for Jeongin’s terrible acting.

Hyunjin: He could dedicate a fight to her.

Hyunjin: Win a match and shout, “That was for you, baby!” She’ll love it.

Seungmin: Or hate it.

Jeongin: WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS.

Chan: Please don’t listen to him.

Jeongin: Oh my god, my life 😩

Felix: 😅😅😅

Hyunjin: Look, Jeongin, at the end of the day, just be confident. If you act like a man, she’ll treat you like one.

Jeongin: Easy for you to say. You’re not in love with her.

---

Jeongin tossed his phone aside, heart pounding. He didn’t know what his next move would be, but one thing was certain: he was in too deep to back out now.

The gym that usually buzzed with activity was so quiet now. Jeongin stood across from you in the sparring ring, his gloves up, his nerves barely contained. He couldn’t believe he’d agreed to this.

Sparring with you? His brain was already a mess when you just existed near him. But now, you were in front of him, bouncing lightly on your feet, your focused expression somehow making you look even more stunning.

“Ready, champ?” you teased, your grin playful as you adjusted your gloves.

Jeongin swallowed hard, trying to focus. “Yeah. Ready.”

With a wink, you moved quickly as you circled him. Jeongin mirrored you, trying to keep his stance solid.

It was going fine. Really good actually. You were good with your arms, and he tried to return the pressure, throwing a one-two combo at you. You dodged effortlessly, and then out of nowhere, you hooked your leg behind his, pivoting your hips to execute a perfectly timed trip.

Jeongin yelped as his balance gave out, and suddenly he was on the mat, his back hitting the ground with a loud thud.

“Nice match,” you said, already kneeling over him, one hand braced on the mat beside his head. You leaned over slightly, your face hovering above his. “You okay?”

Jeongin glitched in real time.

It was all too much - your bright eyes, your playful smile, the way a few strands of your hair stuck to your forehead, glistening with sweat. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, and the concern in your voice made his heart stutter.

“I…uh…yeah,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

You tilted your head and asked, “You sure? I hope nothing hurts?”

“Pretty sure I’m dying,” he muttered, half under his breath, closing his eyes and exhaling loudly.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” he squeaked, his face burning red.

You laughed softly, leaning back to give him space and extending your hand to help him sit up.

“You did well, Innie. Just gotta work on your balance.”

“Yeah,” he said dumbly, staring up at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky.

You tapped his cheek lightly with your gloved hand. “C’mon, champ. Let’s get you up.”

---

Jeongin: I’m never sparring with her again. Ever.

Hyunjin: What happened?

Jisung: Spill.

Jeongin: She KNOCKED ME DOWN.

Felix: Oh nooooo.

Jeongin: And instead of just walking away and letting me die with dignity, she kneels over me.

Hyunjin: Oh, that sounds spicy.

Jeongin: SPICY?! IT WASN’T SPICY. IT WAS HUMILIATING. She hovered over me with her PERFECT FACE and eyelashes and asked if I was okay. Like I’m some helpless little kitten she rescued from a tree.

Felix: Awwww. That’s so cute!

Jeongin: IT’S NOT CUTE, FELIX. IT’S A CRIME AGAINST MY MASCULINITY.

Seungmin: What masculinity?

Jeongin: SEUNGMIN, I SWEAR.

Minho: You’re spiraling again.

Jeongin: I could smell her shampoo. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

Hyunjin: Uh huh

Felix: She thinks you’re cute AND talented.

Jeongin: I WANT HER TO THINK I’M HOT.

Minho: Maybe try not to land on your ass next time.

Jeongin: Wow, great advice, hyung. I feel so much better.

Hyunjin: Bro. She’s into you.

Jeongin: SHE IS NOT.

Changbin: I mean… isn’t that kind of symbolic? Like, you’re already floored by her?

---

If the locker room was soundproof, Jeongin would've screamed so loud.

---

Jisung: Okay, okay, so she thinks you’re adorable. And a child.

Jisung: But if only she knew that you're basically ready to give her a child

Felix: OMG. Jisung, no.

Jeongin: WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?!

Jisung: Am I wrong? Didn’t you literally say the other day, you'd do anything for her, even give her your last name and your firstborn child?

Jeongin: THAT WAS A PRIVATE THOUGHT, YOU GREMLIN.

Chan: What the actual fuck is going on in here?

Jisung: Oh, perfect timing, Chan-hyung! Any tips on the said topic? Since you've already done it.

Chan: Jisung. Please.

Felix: 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Hyunjin: This is so out of control, and for once it's not me 🤣

Jeongin: EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU IS THE WORST.

Chan: Jeongin. Does she actually think you’re a child, or are you projecting because you’re too scared to confess?

Jeongin: I don’t know.

Changbin: Oh, he knows.

Minho: 100% projecting.

Jeongin: I somehow feel like every time she looks at me she sees a ‘cute little brother type’

Hyunjin: Then you need to show her you’re not a little brother type.

Felix: Exactly! Be confident. Flirt back. Stop acting like she’s going to break you.

Jeongin: She already DOES break me!

Hyunjin: BRO. MAN UP. Or I swear I’ll walk up to her and tell her everything.

Jeongin: IF YOU DO THAT, I WILL END YOU.

Chan: Okay, enough. Stop overthinking it. Just talk to her, show her your genuine self.

Jeongin: But what if I mess up again?

Seungmin: You’ve been messing up this whole time, and she still likes you. You’re fine.

Hyunjin: True. She probably thinks your flustered baby deer energy is charming.

Jeongin: Oh my God

Jeongin thought he could pull it off. He thought he could just quietly distance himself from you without anyone noticing. After all, it was for the greater good. If he didn’t interact with you, maybe he could convince himself he didn’t feel anything.

But it didn’t take long for the cracks to show.

He started avoiding eye contact at the gym. No more conversations after practice. He skipped group water breaks and focused on solo drills. He even fled the gym the minute his class was done.

And you noticed. Of course you did.

Because he was literally the highlight of your day. Jeongin was a clueless idiot, because he definitely couldn't see how much you adored him, and this distance was getting to you.

---

You leaned against the wall, arms crossed as you watched Jeongin avoid your gaze for the fifth time that day. Normally, he’d flash you his shy smile or wave when you caught him looking. Now? He was all formal, barely sparing you a glance.

Something was definitely up. You waited patiently for him to come to the locker room. And of course he took the long route just to drag it out.

You huffed in annoyance before calling out, “Jeongin!”

He froze, his water bottle hovering close to his lips as he turned toward you like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh. Uh, hey, Y/N.”

You tilted your head, scrutinizing him as you asked, “Are you okay? You’ve been weird lately.”

“Weird?” he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, I’m just… focused on training. That’s all.”

“Focused on training?” You raised an eyebrow. “Ok, so ignoring me is part of that?”

“No! I am not-” His ears turned red as he shook his head no.

You stepped closer, lowering your voice and asked, “Did I do something? Are you upset about the spar-”

“No!” he interrupted, eyes wide. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

You blinked. He did not just say that.

“Did you just hit me with the breakup line?”

Jeongin looked like he wanted to crawl under the mat.

“I…uh…I have to go.” He practically sprinted to the locker room, leaving you standing there, more confused than ever.

---

Jeongin: Guys. I fucked up.

Felix: WHAT DID YOU DO.

Jeongin: She asked if she upset me, and I panicked.

Hyunjin: Wait.

Hyunjin: You did not tell her it’s not her, it’s you.

Jeongin: HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW THAT.

Changbin: OH MY GOD.

Jisung: LMAO. DID YOU REALLY?

Jeongin: I panicked!

Minho: This is officially the funniest thing you’ve ever done.

Chan: Okay, let’s not bully him.

Chan: Jeongin, why are you avoiding her?

Jeongin: Because I don’t want to make things worse. She already treats me like a kid. If I keep acting like an idiot around her, she’s never going to take me seriously.

Seungmin: Avoiding her isn’t going to make her take you seriously either. It’s just going to make her think you’re mad at her.

Jeongin: But what if I do something stupid?

Hyunjin: Bro. You already did the stupid thing. The bar’s on the floor.

Felix: Seriously, just TALK to her.

Jeongin: You say that like it’s easy.

Jisung: Because it is easy. Walk up to her, say, “I think you’re amazing and also I have a huge crush on you. Wanna kiss?” Done.

Jeongin: I’d rather eat a dumbbell.

Minho: Please do.

Felix: Okay, but seriously, Jeongin, if you don’t fix this, she’s going to think you hate her.

Chan: And it's gonna hurt you more than it hurts her. Or whatever.

Jeongin: Fine. I’ll talk to her. But if I embarrass myself, I’m never speaking to any of you again.

Minho: Can’t wait.

---

The next day, you were warming up when Jeongin approached you hesitantly. You glanced up, surprised.

“Oh, look who finally decided to stop ghosting me.” you said, and it broke his heart to see that you weren't giving him your usual smile.

He winced as he said, “I wasn’t ghosting you.”

“Sure felt like it.” You said, crossing your arms. “So what’s going on? And don’t give me the ‘training focus’ excuse again.”

Jeongin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been… overthinking some stuff.”

“Stuff?” You tilted your head, waiting for him to elaborate.

“You,” he blurted out, then immediately regretted it.

“Me?”

“Yes. I mean -” He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Look, Y/N. You’re amazing, okay? You’re smart and funny and strong, and you make me feel like an idiot half the time because I don’t know how to act normal around you.”

You blinked, taken aback. “Jeongin -”

“I like you,” he interrupted, words tumbling out in a rush. “A lot. And I know you probably think I’m just some kid, but I’ve been trying so hard to prove I’m not. And it’s probably really obvious now, and I’m sorry if I’ve been weird or -”

“Jeongin.” You stepped closer, cutting him off.

“Sorry.” He looked at you, panic written all over his face.

But you smiled, your heart softening. He was so damn adorable, you wanted to bite him. To say the least.

“You don’t have to prove anything. I never thought of you as just some kid.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. And for the record…” You reached out, ruffling his hair with a grin. “I like you too, Innie.”

Jeongin covered his face with his hands, whining, but he couldn’t stop the huge grin that spread across his face.

"C'mere you," you said, and Jeongin surged into your arms, letting you hug him tight.

---

Jeongin: SHE LIKES ME BACK. OMG. I'M HYPERVENTILATING.

Hyunjin: NO WAY.

Felix: OMG!!! YESS!!!

Jisung: What did you say? How did it happen? Give us details!

Jeongin: I just told her I like her. She said she likes me too.

Chan: See? Told you honesty works.

Hyunjin: So when’s the wedding?

Minho: Well, that's what you get for being such a good boy.

Jeongin: OH MY GOD.

Seungmin: Congrats bro

Changbin: Go celebrate. Go get outta here!

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan

[enderlovez]

can you write another kindergarten teacher!reader x spencer where he comes in as like a special guest to read to her students🥹 and then he stays to eat lunch with her

Story Time

Spencer Reid x Kindergarten Teacher Reader WORD COUNT: 1000+

Summary: Spencer comes and reads to your students for storytime.

Content Warning: Maybe some spelling errors, but otherwise nothing. I actually love writing kindergarten teacher reader x Spencer!!! It makes me feel all warm and happy inside

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

The buzz of the classroom feels electric today, like a thousand tiny bees flitting through the air. Your students can hardly stay in their seats, their excitement nearly bubbling over as you explain that you'll be having a very special guest joining you for storytime today.

Of course, they don't know who it is yet. That's the surprise.

"Miss Y/N, is it a prince?" asks Lily, her shiny brown eyes wide and hopeful.

"Or a pirate?" chimes in Jacob, swinging around an imaginary sword.

You smile and shake your head. "Not quite. But he is one of my favorite people, and I think you're all going to love him, too."

As if on cue, there's a light knock on the rainbow-painted door. Your stomach flips as you walk over to open it.

Standing there, with his ever-disheveled hair and a stack of children's books in his arms, is Spencer.

He's wearing one of his signature mismatched outfits that always sort of remind you of something an old man would wear—a brown cardigan over a cream colored shirt—and the way his eyes light up when he sees you makes your cheeks flush a little.

"Hi," he says softly, like you're the only two people in the room.

"Hi," you whisper back, before stepping aside to let him in.

The kids immediately erupt into whispers and giggles. Spencer shifts awkwardly under their gaze, but he smiles warmly as I introduce him.

"Everyone, this is Doctor Reid. He's a very smart friend of mine who knows a lot about books, so I thought he'd be the perfect person to read to us today!"

Spencer waves shyly. "Hi, everyone. You can call me Spencer if you want."

Lily raises her hand without hesitation. "Are you Miss Y/N's boyfriend? Are you married? Do you have any babies?"

Spencer's eyes widen, and you feel your face go hot—really, this is something you should have anticipated.

"Lily!" you laugh nervously, twiddling your thumbs. "That's not a question for storytime."

She shrugs, unapologetic. Spencer, bless him, just clears his throat as adjusts his grip on the books.

"I bought a few options," he says, holding them up like they're treasure. "We have The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Where the Wild Things Are, and The Day the Crayons Quit. Any favorites."

The room fills with an enthusiastic chorus of opinions, but Spencer handles it like a pro, tallying votes on the whiteboard until we have a winner: Where the Wild Things Are.

He settles into the big reading chair at the front of the room, his long legs awkwardly folded up beneath him, and adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

The kids gather on the carpet, leaning forward with rapt attention as he begins.

Spencer's voice is soft, each word carrying a rhythm that draws the kids—and you, despite the fact that you've already read this book countless times—into the story, though that might just be because you enjoy listening to his voice so much.

By the time he closes the book and sets it aside, the room erupts into cheers. "That was so cool!" Jacob shouts, jumping to his feet.

"Can you read another one?" Lily pleads, clasping her hands together and mustering up the best puppy eyes she can—she doesn't have to try very hard.

Five year olds. So easy to please.

Spencer glances at you, and you nod. "One more," you say. "Then it's lunchtime."

This time, he picks The Day the Crayons Quit, and the kids laugh hysterically at the sassy letters from the crayons.

Spencer even gets a short round of applause when he finished reading and closes the picture book, his cheeks pink as he smiles and thanks them.

"Okay, everyone," you announce, clapping your hands together. "Time to wash up for lunch!"

The kids scramble to line up at the sink, still chatting quietly with one another—partly about the stories, but mostly about how awesome Spencer is.

He stands by the reading chair, watching them with a mix of amusement and awe.

"You're a hit," you tease, stepping beside him.

"I think they like me more than you," he replies, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

"Don't get cocky," you say, nudging him gently.

As the kids settle at their tables with their lunches, you lead Spencer to your desk in the corner, where you've set up a couple of chairs. "So you're staying, right?" you ask, trying to sound casual.

"If you'll have me," he says, pulling out the chair across from yours.

Your desk is decorated with little figurines and gadgets, ranging from tiny animal toys blue-tacked down to the lid of a container, to a photo frame filled with pressed flowers, to a small collected of little painted rocks. It reminds Spencer a lot of Garcia's office. Colorful.

You hand him the sandwich you made for him earlier, and his eyebrows lift in surprise. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know," you say, ducking your head. "But I wanted to."

You eat quietly for a moment, the sound of the kids' laughter and chatter enough to fill the space around the both of you.

Spencer watches them with a small smile, and you can't help but admire the way he fits so seamlessly into your little world. Most people would get overwhelmed, being in a room with so many little children—and it just so happens that your boyfriend isn't one of those people.

How did you get so lucky?

"They're great," he says after a while.

"They are," you agree. "A handful, but great all the same."

He looks at you then, his gaze soft and searching. "I can see why you love this so much. And I can see why they love you so much."

Your breath catches, but before you can respond with something sappy that'll more than likely make you cry, Jacob bounds over to your desk.

"Miss Y/N, can Mister Spencer come back tomorrow?"

Spencer chuckles, glancing at me like he's looking for permission.

"We'll see," you say, ruffling Jacob's hair. "If he's not too busy saving the world, maybe he can visit again."

"Promise?" Jacob asks, directing the question at Spencer.

Spencer holds up his pinky, and Jacob eagerly hooks his own tiny pinky finger around it. "Promise," Spencer says.

As Jacob runs back to his table, Spencer leans toward you, his voice low and almost a little uncertain.

"When can we have one of our own?"

[sayangrafayel]

Him reacting to you SCREAMING while watching an idol (be it J-POP, K-POP, or any singer at all)

Another good and (something I wanted to do) request! The anon asked for their reaction to you SCREAMING. Emphasis on screaming and going crazy over idols. Enjoy!

Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Caleb.

Sylus

As soon as he heard your screams, he IMMEDIATELY rushed to you.

"SWEETIE, WHAT HAPPENED? ARE YOU OKAY?" "Yes!!! I'm just so...! LOOK AT THEM SY, THEY ARE SO COOL. AAAAH."

He turns his attention at your screen and furrows his eyebrows! How dare! He can sing and dance like that too, you know?

Starts singing along and you would lose focus, because now your 6'2" boyfriend is in the room stumbling and singing off key. But holy hell, you love him for it. What a dork.

Xavier

Is currently watching the same thing with you.

"I don't understand.. how are they so energetic?" "BECAUSE THEY ARE THE BEEEEST! MY POOKIE!" "But I thought I was your pookie.. 🥺"

At first he was jealous someone else got your attention that much, but the thought that he's the one who gets to hold you every time he please soothes him.

You absolutely made him dress up as your idol at least ONCE. Your boyfriend's pretty face cannot go to waste! You even suggested that he could be an idol if he wanted to. He didn't like it though... he just wants to be your Xavier, not anyone else's, not even as an idol.

Rafayel

He's painting on that giant canvas of his while you sit on his couch and watch your idol, you suddenly screamed and it shocked him.

"Ouchie! My poor fishie ears!" "I'm so sorry my dear, but LOOK. LOOK AT THEEEEM." "No, thank you. You know, Sylus should definitely audition to become one of those idols. It would be so funny to watch him stumble all over the stage." (Sorry I had to slip in my dynamic duo, I MISS THEM)

You would laugh of course, you love their friendship too "Rafayel, you are one cruel fishie. But you are so right!"

He would continue to paint while you continue to fangirl over your idol. He wouldn't trade this for the world.

Zayne

Like Raf, he was working on his laptop while you watch the tv and fangirl.

Turns his head to you and the tv once in awhile just to make sure you don't damage your vocal cord..

Of course he is supportive of your hobby! BUT HE IS SO SASSY ABOUT IT THOUGH.

"Raw, next question! You know what I mean Zayne!?" "No, I do not. I am a Doctor who works many hours a week and I have a real life ungrateful girlfriend to spoil."

Caleb

This one is quite hard to read. He either goes crazy with you or gets jealous. It depends on the day.

He'd take you swooning over some idol rather than another person in your life any day though.

You screaming? He's used to it. Plus, he loves how passionate you are when it comes to the things you love.

Deep down he knows you just adore your idol! You have since you both were kids! But sometimes he gets jealous okay!! But makes up for it by buying you their merch and all.

"Your idol is having a concert in three months, should we go?" "CAN WE, PLEAAAASE?" "As long as you love me the most!" ruffles your hair.

[metaphorfordeath]

Anti-Psychotic

A person living with schizophrenia finds that their delusions may have more basis in reality than they thought. Originally published in the Fall/Winter II issue of Diet Milk Magazine, available here. Content warnings for depiction of psychosis, violence, ableist language.

No one is watching me.

Julie has me write that down at our session. She never listens to me. She says, it can be comforting to realize that people don’t think of you as much as you think they do. I know this already. She asks, what evidence do you have that you are being watched? I say there isn’t any. Just a feeling. She writes something down, and asks about my meds again. 

So fucking patronizing. Of course I take them. I have taken mine like clockwork, every day, for five years. Maybe I missed a few days, but who doesn’t forget sometimes. My meds are cleat spikes jabbing into the earth. Helping me keep my footing. Making sure I don’t slip.

Last week I started getting the prickle again. Like fingers up my back. Someone standing behind me, breathing. I live alone. When I felt it, I wasn’t scared at first. These things happen sometimes. I’ve been around the block. The prickle and I are old friends, practically. When it finds me, I have ways to forget it. 

I drew the blinds, which helped a bit. I had a drink—nobody's perfect—but the prickle didn’t dull. So I peeked through the shades at the street below. Normal street stuff. The sun was setting, painting the world in shades of fire. Cars went by, all the usuals. Some kids were yelling in a driveway. A wasp tapped at my window, wiggling its feelers at me. No obvious source for the prickle. So, probably nothing. For the rest of the evening I puttered, read my book, ate some frozen nothing heated in the microwave, and took my meds. The prickle was temporary, I told myself as I lay down to sleep, the usual fog settling over me in a cool, clammy layer. No one was watching me. No one ever is.

That was a week ago. It’s only gotten worse since then. The prickle turned into a terrified stomach ache that kept me up for nights and nights. I called in sick to group, told Cheryl the caseworker that I have the flu. She sounded alarmed, but she’s only worried because of what happened to Devin.

Devin was like me: good at meds, good at therapy. We were friends, in a psycho kind of way. A few weeks ago, Devin started to get bad. Stopped showing up to group, didn’t even call. I haven’t seen him in a while, even when I went looking for him in his usual bad places. I miss him. I told Cheryl not to worry. I’m steady, just sick. I’ll see her again soon. 

I keep taking my meds, but they aren’t helping like they should. The fog I count on to sleep is thin, or missing. Something scrabbles at my skin from underneath, and I keep catching myself scratching little bits off of me. When I lay down, a low, neutral voice whispers nonsense at me through the pillow I clamp over my head. I can’t shower; that’s when the prickle gets stronger. Someone standing on the other side of the shower curtain, someone looking down at me through the water stain on the ceiling. I hiss and babble out loud just to hear myself talk, to shut up the voices that aren’t mine. I get sicker by the day.

By now I haven’t been outside in over a week, but my meds are ready to pick up. I don’t want to miss a dose, so I put on shoes and the big jacket that makes me feel safe, and I go outside. Birds leer at me from the tops of buildings. Walking in the opposite direction, an old lady frowns at me.

“Hmph, same to you,” she snaps.

My stomach lurches, but I don’t say anything, just keep walking. I hadn’t spoken. Had I? 

The drug store is brightly lit. It hurts to be inside. Too many things to look at. Faces on packaging look strange now. Confrontational. Interrogative. But at least they look like faces. When I look at anyone real, their features shift. Static snow eats at the air around their heads in a halo. It frightens me, so I keep my eyes on my shoes. The pharmacy tech who’s always there gets the packet for me, rings it up.

“Any questions about your medication?” he asks. I shake my head, pay with a card. He has glasses that give his face a sort of stability, so I look at it. His eyes are brown, beard gray, no hair on his head. He smiles at me. “Have a nice day, miss.”

“You too,” I mutter.

And then I go home, have to stop myself from running for safety. The walk is twenty minutes each way; harrowing, the passing cars huge and hungry, huffing and snorting at me. The prickle is more than a prickle by now. It feels like someone is pulling out the hairs on the back of my neck, one by one. My heart thuds against my ribs so hard that I’m afraid it will burst out, plop on the sidewalk and keep throbbing without me. The paper bag with my pills turns damp and tattered in my sweaty hand. 

And getting home doesn’t even help this time.

Julie says too much TV can be a trigger for me, but I start leaving it on all the time. Noise beats silence, any day. No empty spaces that need filling. I can’t watch sitcoms or anything fictional, so I tune it to the news. The news is always. Steady, real, factual. There’s a story about a body they found by the freeway. Pushed out of a moving car. No one knows or cares who it was. There’s a picture of the scene, taped up yellow and covered in those little numbers that say where a bit of evidence is. A tattered jacket lays in a ditch, dark with blood. 

I stand and race to the bathroom, cool porcelain against my hands, bile and nothing coming up as sweat pours down my back. My head pounds, edges of my vision sparkling. I can only see the jacket. Not dirty or bloody or ruined but the way it used to look. Devin’s jacket.

Something is horribly wrong. Men-in-black wrong. The-end-is-nigh wrong. 

The prickle wasn’t imagination. It was intuition. 

Someone got Devin. Who else did they get before him?

---

The next week, I force myself to go to group. I need to see faces. See who else is there, or not. Cheryl picks me up for these, since I don’t drive. I’m sicker than I can remember being, and try to remember to ask Julie about my dose on Tuesday. I sit silently in the passenger seat, feeling Cheryl’s eyes on me. Caseworkers all have the same eyes.

“Feeling alright today, X?” 

My name isn’t the name she calls me. You don’t need to know it.

“Fine,” I say, pinching my hands between my knees. They shake if I don’t. “Still getting over that flu.”

“Sorry to hear that,” she says. Her sedan has beige fabric seats. The passenger seat is dark, stained with sweat and whatever else from all the people she’s ferried around. A vanilla air freshener dangles from the rear view mirror.

Someone shouts in my ear, so close I feel a little blast of hot breath on my neck, and I flinch. Cheryl looks at me suddenly.

“Everything okay?”

She didn’t hear that. “Yeah. Sorry. Weird itch.”

“Hmm.” 

Group is fine. It’s usually fine. I don’t say much this time, just look around at everyone in their folding chairs. Their faces are wrong. It makes me nauseous to look, but I look anyway. I need to see who isn’t here.

There are no empty chairs, but there are fewer. One or two down from usual. All the other regulars are here, picking at their skin or looking at the clock or chewing their hair. I glance across the room and for a second I think I see Devin, sitting in his old coat. But when I look again, it’s just Tom. I almost hoped.

When it’s over, there’s bad coffee to drink. I suck on a red straw and let the bitter taste anchor me to my tongue. I inhabit my body, touch my fingers to the side of my face to know that it and my fingers exist. Sufficiently convinced of my realness, I go to Amber, our de facto leader.

She’s drinking water from a bottle with cucumber slices in it, cloudy with pulp and seeds. Ectoplasmic. It makes my stomach turn.

“Amber,” I say. My voice feels far away. She looks at me, expectant. “I missed last week. Have you seen Greg, or Mariah?”

“Oh, no, I haven’t. Greg was here last week, but I haven’t seen Mariah since like, last month. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

A crinkle appears between her eyebrows. I focus on that, since the rest of her features won’t stay put. “You’re worried because of what happened to Devin?”

“I think Devin is dead.” There is a sudden hush as other people in my vicinity overhear. “I saw his jacket. On the news.”

Cheryl appears beside me. “X, would you like to talk in the hallway?” 

She pulls me out before I can answer. “Have you been feeling alright?” she asks again. “Taking your medication?”

“Yes,” I say, a little forcefully. She clicks her tongue.

“Really? Because if you need to move up your next appointment, I can make some arrangements for you.”

Despite the fact that I do want to move my appointment up, her tone hits a button in my brain and my face turns red. “No,” I say. “I’ll wait until the next one. I’m fine. I just need to know what’s happening.” A rancid taste creeps up the back of my throat. “Where are people going?”

“Honey, everyone’s here that needs to be here.”

“No—that’s not right. I need to know.” 

I can tell from the way she moves that she thinks I’m getting agitated. She doesn’t understand what I’m saying. “People call in sick sometimes. You did, just last week. Mariah was having issues sticking with the program, so we’re working something out. No one’s gone.”

“Devin is gone. Devin is dead. He’s dead and no one knows it.”

Cheryl comes closer, her voice so low and venomous that it starts to meld with the others. “I’m going to give Dr. Bern a call and try to get you in with her sooner than Tuesday. If you can’t keep up with your regimen, we’ll have to consider another in-patient stay.”

Anger chokes me until my vision goes white. “Okay,” is all I can manage. I have some unsavory thoughts, which I won’t repeat to you now.

“Good,” says Cheryl, holding my leash. “Let’s get you home.”

I don’t sleep. I don’t even try. Someone is watching me. I think about Devin, the last time we spoke before he was gone. He got paranoid, too. He jabbered sometimes, when we would see each other. The same face, he said, with glass eyes. Looking at him. Following him. He said his pills were replaced, his furniture moved, nothing looked the same as he’d left it. No one listens to me, he said. I’m scared, he said. I’m scared of what will happen next.

“I’m scared, too,” I say to no one. A chorus laughs at me. 

---

“So,” says Julie. “Cheryl told me you’ve been having some trouble sticking to your medication.”

“I stick to it,” I say, and set the pill bottle on the desk in front of her. “Count them and tell me I’m not.”

She doesn’t move to count them. I’d hoped at least that she would humor me. “It sounds like some of your persecutory thoughts are returning. Tell me about what you’re worried about.”

“I saw on the news that they found someone’s body in a ditch off the interstate. They showed pictures. I think the body was Devin.”

“Devin from your group?” I nod. “We actually just heard from him last week. His brother answered when we called his phone. Devin is currently in a private rehabilitation clinic in Cincinnati. He’s alright, X.”

A numb feeling falls over me all at once, like a sheet. Something crawls up my thigh and disappears into a deep hole in my flesh. “Oh.”

“Amber talked to us, too. She said you asked her about Greg and Mariah’s absences this week?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I followed up on those for you, too. Greg had an accident at home and was in the emergency room during your meeting time this week. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to reach Mariah personally, but her father informed me over the phone that her family has pulled her out of the program. She won’t be returning.” Julie leans across her desk. “X, can you please look at me?”

I look at her. Her face is twisted, like a mask, papier mâché, drooping strips of plaster bandage. The static threatens to consume her, and me.

“I’m going to increase your dose to eighty milligrams. For now you can take two of what you have at the usual time, but I’m sending in a new prescription to the pharmacy.” She scrawls something on a pad at hand, and I take the opportunity to look away. “I’ll see you again this time next week, okay? And if anything’s the matter, you can call the nurse’s hotline. We’ll take care of you.” She hands me the script. 

“Thank you,” I say, and then someone brings me home. I am silent for the drive. Thinking.

Wasn’t Devin an only child?

I start doubling my dose. The fog doesn’t come. The prickle intensifies into ceaseless paranoia. I check the window locks three times a day to make sure, even though I live on the third floor. Chair under the doorknob, empty bottles stacked on it so I’ll hear if someone comes. I can’t stop thinking about Devin, and the others. Were they all really fine? Was this just a breakthrough-breakdown, pills ceasing their function and leaving me alone, spiraling? 

I hadn’t tried calling Devin in weeks. He didn’t pick up the first few times, and anyone in that state doesn’t usually want to talk anyhow. But Julie said someone answered when they called. Maybe they would answer for me.

The phone buzzes. Surging forward and receding, like a tide. Devin could be there on the other end. Getting better. Being cared for. I close my eyes and wait to hear his voicemail, or something else.

Click. “Hello?”

The voice startles me so much I can’t speak. A stranger.

“Hello?” says the phone. “Who is this?”

“Um,” I say suddenly, “Devin?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the voice says. “Devin isn’t here right now. May I ask who’s calling?”

“I’m—his friend. X,” I clarify. My voice is not of me. “Can I talk to him soon?”

“No, unfortunately he can’t talk. But I’ll let him know you called, he’ll be happy to hear people are checking up on him.”

“What’s—who are you?”

“I’m Eric, Devin’s brother. I’m taking good care of him, miss. Have a nice day.” 

The call ends. Something in my stomach shrivels. I run to the bathroom, but there’s nothing to bring up. I don’t know why that voice scared me so much. Why had I thought Devin was an only child? He hadn’t mentioned his family—maybe I’d just assumed, or forgotten if he’d said. Of course he had a brother. He was alright. They all were, now.

---

Days pass. Bugs make their homes in me. My medication runs out, the new pills ready for pickup. I’d rather die than set foot outside. But I need my stability. I steel myself to leave, and exit my apartment into the world. 

Everyone looks at me. They all want to hurt me. A car drives slowly past me and I try not to look at the people inside. My head hurts. It’s hard to see where I’m going, but I go.

The drug store is bigger than it was last time. Brighter. Angrier. People avoid me as I shuffle towards the pharmacy counter. The pharmacist who’s always there smiles at me again.

“Do you have any questions about your medication?”

I shake my head, fumbling for my card. He’s staring at me through his glasses.

“Do you need me to call someone for you?”

His voice makes me want to puke. I shake my head again, take the pills and make for the door. A crowd of voices shout at me as I stagger out into the air. I miss the way things were. My cleats don’t fit anymore. I tear the bag open, pop the lid off the bottle and shake a pill into my mouth, force it down dry and sticky and hope it does its job. My mouth is sweet where it lingered. It didn’t used to be so sweet.

There is a dull shock of understanding that blooms at the edge of my mind. The prickle rises on the back of my neck, and I look over my shoulder again. The pharmacist is looking at me from his position behind the counter. His face ringed in static. He waves at me. And I take off running.

There is no one I can call. No one who will listen. There are only doors that will slam in my face, white speckle tile and fluorescent lights and needles. He knows that. He knew it for Devin, too. He knew it for the rest of them. The wind in my face feels like fingers grasping at me, tugging at my hair, slowing me down. I race home, up the stairs and lock the door, brace it with furniture and then I sit on the floor and cry and cry. They’re laughing at me. Trading whispers. Look how stupid. Look how gullible. Go on and cry, crybaby. 

So I do. It’s all I have left.

The next time it’s group, I don’t come to the door. Cheryl calls me, but I don’t answer. There will be a wellness check if I don’t come. I want them to, now. When her calls finally stop piling up, I wait fifteen minutes, then step outside. I leave my door open, leave what I can to show that I am gone. I leave the pills out, and the script. Crush a few with my heel for good measure. I hope they can put the pieces together.

It’s dark, cool. It reminds me of the fog, makes me wish I could sleep. Eyes follow me through the evening. Headlights burn me as cars move past. I walk slowly in my big jacket, letting myself be watched. Letting the prickle come up my neck, creep over my scalp, trickle down over my face until it covers me in a thin layer and I prickle all over. The prickle and I are old friends. It tells me when to be afraid.

Then there are headlights at my back that don’t go away. The growl of an engine crashes into me. I stop walking, and someone gets out. I don’t turn to look. I can’t stand to look at faces anymore. Suddenly, I have a funny thought. Maybe I do have some questions about my medication, after all.

Something whistles through the air above my head, and the world disappears.

When I wake up later, I’m not sure if I have. There are stars. It smells like gasoline, copper and dirt. My jacket is gone. My mouth is gone, too. My hands. You’re caught, someone says in my ear, you let it happen. With my eyes, which I still have, I look across the floor. It hurts to look. There’s blood under me, sticky black. The prickle is gone. I discovered its source.

I’m alone for a long time. It’s hard to say how much. I realize that there’s a door behind me when it opens. Light falls across the floor, yellow tractor beam coming to take me away. I long to be weightless, but the earth won’t let me. Then the pharmacist who is always there puts his shoe against my face and turns me over. He doesn’t speak. He crouches down and looks into my eyes like he is trying to take something from me. Then he takes the tape off my mouth.

All I do at first is scream. It's all my body knows how to do. He sits and watches me. When I can see his mouth, it’s smiling, and I realize he likes it when I scream. So as soon as I can, I stop. Silence rushes back into the gaps, roaring in my ears.

“Good girl,” he says when I am quiet. His voice is a distorted growl, infrasound, rattling my eardrums. “Aren’t you such a good girl?”

I think about his throat in my teeth. I think about his blood on my face. For a moment it feels like I am lunging for him, jabbing thumbs into soft and fragile places. But he still has my hands, turning numb and purple at the small of my back. So I sit up as much as I can and spit at the floor near his feet. Faster than my eyes can track, he lurches forward. Fist in my hair, hauling me up to hip height.

He looks into my face with his glass eyes. His mouth is monstrous, all his white teeth sharp in a thicket of gray.

“I’ve been watching you,” he says. 

I know this already. There is nothing satisfying in the confirmation of it. 

He is not the man in black I always pictured. He could be anybody.

“Think of this as a favor I’m doing you.”

Then he hits me again. And other things.

When I’m alone, voices chatter in my ears. No one is coming, they say, you are alone. They will not find you. You and the ditch will be friends soon. So you amounted to this—better than nothing, we suppose. I shush them, rock myself against the cement floor and hum and think about grass, and birds. I try not to leave myself room to cry. I don’t want him to have the satisfaction.

A thousand years go by. Outside the room, there are voices. Not any of mine. His, and others. They start loud, and get quiet. His voice goes away completely. Doors open, distant, then closer. Light falls over my body again, and I feel the weightlessness. Real this time. My hands come back to me, but I can’t move them. There are faces, more than I’ve seen in a while. They scare me, but I can’t run, so I try not to look. Except at his. They take me past him, and I look. Through his glasses I see his eyes, still trying to take something from me. He has, by now. But not what he wanted.

I sleep for a long time, and when I wake up, the world is the way I remember it. My feet on the ground, cleats and all, not slipping. When I’m well enough they bring me to identify Devin’s body, since he didn’t really have a brother after all. They find Mariah’s, too. Greg really was in the emergency room, turns out. But there are others. Too many to think of.

Cheryl changes careers afterwards. Probably for the best. I find this out when she drives me to group the first time after I get out of the hospital. She doesn’t look at me much, but when she does, I can see her eyes are different. Not caseworker eyes anymore.

“Lauren is going to be taking over your case starting next week,” she says after a long silence. “So this will be the last time I see you.” I can tell she’s trying not to cry.

“Okay,” I say. 

She never apologizes. No one does. They all say they’re sorry for what happened to me, but that isn’t the same thing. People who don’t listen never think to apologize for it. They think they were listening all along.

Things are mostly the same as before, except I get my pills mailed to me now. And I think about Devin a lot. When I pour myself a drink, I pour one for him too and pretend he’s with me. I don’t have any pictures, so mostly I think about his voice. The last time we ever spoke, he told me, no one listens to me, X. 

What I said then was, I know the feeling, man.

But now I just tell him I’m sorry.

[rouge-fauna]

Given that the “If YouTubers Were Honest” video seems to be the breaking point talked about by both Dream in his stream and Tommy in his recent podcast, I kinda wanna talk about it a little more for a second.

(note: I haven’t seen the podcast because I refuse to pay and missed my opportunity when it was on YouTube but here are a couple summaries/transcripts of both it and Dream’s stream from two different pastebins).

First off, personally, I don’t even find the video funny. (I mean the best part is arguably the Philza rap, but anyways.) Clearly, Dream was massively hurt by it, as he says in his stream and as evident by the scathing text messages he evidently sent to Tommy afterwards. But I don’t think it’s hard to see why he’d be hurt. It’s already a painful situation, he’s already under fire from fans and then this just makes it worse. Dream and his family are currently dealing with doxing and scary things, meanwhile Tommy thinks it’s a good idea to make a video joking about it? wtf. That’s messed up any way you spin it in my mind. You can say the qsmp fans weren’t the people coming after Dream but we know this isn’t true, you can say the video didn’t make that big of a difference but it has 2.2 millions views so I hardly think so. If we know anything about the internet it’s that often humor goes over people’s heads.

The biggest argument made by Tommy that is also mentioned by Tubbo recently, is that the video is satire, and a joke so it was supposed to be funny and not taken seriously. But here’s the thing, satire is based on truth. It’s using irony, sarcasm, exaggeration of truths widely known in a humorous way to humiliate someone or a group of people, often to point out a flaw or corruption and such. One of the most famous satires is A Modest Proposal by Jonathan Smith which suggests that in order to solve the problems of poverty in Ireland the poor should butcher their children and sell them for food for the rich. This is ridiculous, but also based in truth right? Ireland was actually dealing with poverty and starvation as a result of over population so why not eat the children. Technically, as ridiculous as it is, it is still based on truth even if an extremely over the top answer with crazy reasoning. But technically speaking, it would solve the issues that exist. That’s part of why it works to make fun of the corruption and poor logic of the elite and politicians, as well as their callousness toward the suffering people of the lower class. Satire is the extension of irony and irony is based off of the truth. Dramatic irony is when the audience knows something the character does not, which makes what the character does problematic often in a funny or tragic way. If you’ve seen Wicked then a foreshadowing dramatic irony in the song “The Wizard and I” is about how ‘there will be a day where all of Oz celebrates her and she’ll be so happy she can melt’, which the audience knows is pretty true from The Wizard of Oz, only her melting is her death and all of Oz celebrates that. It’s true, that’s what makes it funny or tragic and satire is just the extreme extension of that.

What Tommy did, was not the truth. He lied, something Dream specifically points out as a main problem he had with the video. Tommy didn’t do satire, he wasn’t highlighting a specific flaw in Dream and Quackity or irony in the situation, he just painted a narrative that wasn’t true and used that to make fun of Dream. That’s the problem with it, that’s why it’s hurtful and not funny (in my opinion). It’s missing the satirical elements of irony and sarcasm that come from being clever with the truth. And that’s why Dream was hurt by it because Tommy made a video lying about a situation where people were already rallying against him, to an audience who already hates him. Tommy just straight up made fun of Dream for laughs in one of the lowest points in Dream’s life.

Even further, what’s also flawed with the argument that it was just a joke is what Tommy says in the podcast

“He didn’t expect Dream to snap at him over the “If YouTubers Were Honest” video. He used that video to test Dream because he had many friends telling him that Dream’s a bad person but Tommy told them no and didn’t believe them. After he posted the video, Dream sent him a very long angry message that was full of horrible words, which made Tommy realize Dream’s a bad guy.”

Tommy didn’t expect Dream to snap? But also did it as a test? Seriously?! Oh let me see how far I can make fun of Dream until he snaps at me and when he does this confirms he’s a bad guy… it’s just a joke my ass, you didn’t just make a video for laughs, you made it in your own words to test Dream and your friendship, furthermore to test how far you could push him until he snaps (<- huh wouldn’t you know, isn’t that a familiar idea…). During a time when you know his mental health is suffering and he and his family are being actively doxxed. That’s just insane. That’s like… like… it’s so wild I’m struggling for an analogy… it’s like kicking a starving animal to test how dangerous it is and then after it finally bites you, labeling it a danger to society…

In summary, Tommy didn’t make a satirical video joking about Dream, he performed a humiliating skit about Dream, making fun of him. In order to test if Dream would snap at him and then labels Dream a bad guy when he does…

[love-byers]

i’m having byler doubt rn and i can’t stop thinking about mike already knowing that will’s gay and he might’ve realized that over the few months of will being away in between s3-s4

what if the “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls” scene isn’t mike projecting but him sort of having a feeling that will likes him romantically. or mike hearing from el that will is painting for a girl he likes, and then he sees will holding a painting in the airport and realizes, that’s why he was being so awkward. and before someone says “mike saw the painting after the awkward hug with will”, what if he actually saw it the moment he walked closer to them and that’s why he pointed it out right away?

and the whole “that’s because she’s my girlfriend, will” “we’re friends. we’re friends” scene. what if he was trying to reject will without being obvious about it. i know he’s like canonically oblivious but what if he’s not?

this is me asking for reassurance/proofs that counters this because it’s bothering me sm 😭 i have some claims in my head that oppose to these but i guess it’s better to hear it from others

1. if mike was suspecting will was gay in the rain fight then he's being homophobic lmao

same dude that tried to fight a homophobe for talking bad about will takes a jab at will for being gay? what changed? why did mike become mildly homophobic between s1 and s3? bc he got a girlfriend? that's not a great message to send...

and like...come on. look at his face. he's heartbroken because will just said he used to want to spend the rest of his life with mike, but not anymore, because mike has made that out to sound outlandish and clearly doesn't want that. that should be further confirming to mike that will does have feelings for him, and he reacts like this?

and if he does suspect will has feeling for him, wtf is this?? 😭 why is he so giddy about will reaffirming what once made mike think will likes him??

2.

it seems like mike had pre planned how he was going to greet will, which was with a shoulder pat. "i can't hug him, that's weird, isn't it??" which would imply that mike thinks hugging will would be romantic....why? he hugs all his other friends normally with no hesitation. and how could he have figured out will liked him between s3 and s4 if he and will barely spoke? and if that's how he treats will when he thinks will might like him, then he's an asshole! 😭😭

and if mike suspected the painting was for him, he was noticeably upset after will said it wasn't for him

he doesn't seem very happy to have confirmation will doesn't have feelings for him 😭 and he went on to be pissy the whole day because will wasn't talking to him. why is he more worried about his platonic bro than his girlfriend?

like i just said, will not giving him the painting should ease all his worries that will has feelings for him. they're just friends. and then will goes on to ignore him all day. why would he still be in the mindset that will likes him during the rink o mania fight?

and we don't have to theorize what was going on with mike between s3 and s4 and at rink o mania. he tells us

"thanks by the way."

"for what?"

"for knocking some sense into me, i mean was being a total self pitying idiot."

during the rink o mania fight, will is knocking some sense into mike. he's saying will was right about everything.

"hey also, about the last few days--"

"you don't have to say anything. i was being a total jerk to el, i deserved it."

"no. no you didn't deserve anything. listen, the last year has been weird, you know?"

mike goes straight from his behavior towards will to how he felt during their time apart. so the two are connected, clearly, since mike is telling us

"i mean max and lucas and dustin, they're great, they're great, it's just...it's hawkins it's not the same without you. and i feel like maybe i was worrying too much about el...i don't know, maybe i feel like i lost you or something."

mike was acting that way because he desperately missed will and felt like will had left a hole in his life. home didn't feel like home anymore. he was torn up inside over it. and he worried that will wasn't reaching out because of how he'd treated will over the summer (ditching him to hang out with el), and that he'd lost will because of that. he's kicking himself, hating himself because he screwed it all up. and he thinks that at the same time he is torn up missing will, feeling all these big feelings about him, will is unbothered, off making new friends. not only does this make him feel like he's feeling too much for will, but he shifts the blame onto will (because he's a self pitying idiot). he feels like it's his own fault, so he projects onto will and makes it wills fault. he doesn't reach out because he thinks will has grown up and moved on like mike had been encouraging him to do all summer, and he doesn't want will to know about all these deep feelings he's having, like will has left a hole in his life, so he doesn't reach out either. he doesn't want to come off desperate. he begins questioning the nature of his feelings towards will, worrying that it's something more than just friendship. if will doesn't care, why does he? why does he care so much?? what's wrong with him??

so he goes on defense. he is not going to let will know how he's been feeling, he's going act aloof. he's going to act like he doesn't care. we are just friends. i don't feel anything more for you, will. see? i don't even want to hug you, i am very clearly your platonic bro. see, everyone? see, el? see, jonathan? i'm straight and he's my platonic bro friend. he's making a spectacle out of it, because grappling with internalized homophobia. he feels like he needs to prove that he's straight.

however mike is a dumbass and instead of realizing that he was way too in his own head. and considering that treating will that way might hurt his feelings, he just gets angry that will isn't treating him the same. will isn't talking to him. will is acting glum. why?? how does he have the audacity to act sad?? this is all his fault in the first place!! if he hadn't gone off and forgotten about me and made me feel this way then none of this would've happened!! he's got to be doing this on purpose!!

and then in the rink o mania fight, it ticks mike off even more because now will is acting like he did nothing wrong. and then:

"well what about us?"

"what?"

uh oh. this is what mike feared. us?? what about us?? there is no us, that's a romantic thing, and we're friends, totally just friends.

"you called maybe a couple of times. it's been a year, mike. meanwhile el has like a book of letters from you."

"that's because she's my girlfriend, will!"

if mike had sent will letters, it would've been gay...? why? actual straight guys don't have to go out of their way to not be gay💀💀

"and us?"

"we're friends! we're friends!"

mike takes this as will asking what the nature of their relationship is, because that's what mike had been doing the whole time they were apart. it was already fresh in his mind. he was being hypervigilant. but that backfires, because will wasn't questioning that. he merely misses their friendship, because will thinks that's all they'll ever be. if he can never have mike romantically, he at least wants to preserve their friendship.

will never questions the nature of their relationship. he thinks he's got it all figured out. he likes mike, but mike is straight, and that's how it'll always be. they will always be just friends. meanwhile mike is still being a disaster with internalized homophobia, questioning his own feelings and projecting it onto will. he's confused and scared and messy as fuck.

but will knocked some sense into him. will made him realize that all this defensiveness and projection was hurting them. will isn't playing with him, will isn't out to get him, will hasn't moved on from him. will still cares, and mike can just be honest with him. so he is, and that's how we get the talk in wills room. mike is honest and vulnerable and puts it out there that he just misses will and wants to be best friends and stick together. and at the end of the day that's all will wants too.

and also, about mike trying to reject will by saying we're friends, again that's a pretty aggressive and homophobic-ish way to do that don't you think? if mike has will all figured out why is he being an asshole?? most people who suspect a friend has feelings for them do not go on attack mode and shoot down every advance the friend makes, even if they're just platonic. that's the behavior of someone who is projecting

here are some other posts i've made about this topic:

here

here

here

here

here

stay strong my fellow byler warrior, this battle will be over soon

[rose24207]

dtMF

Summary: Lando sits on a San Juan beach, holding a Polaroid camera, reflecting on his lost love and regretting the moments he took for granted, wishing he could tell her he still loves her.

Genre: angst, fluff

Lando x dead!f!reader

TW: Death, grief, coping, the song itself basically

A/N: I feel emotional about this one :( English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist pt. 2

The sunsets in San Juan were beautiful, like paintings brushed across the sky. Lando sat on a weathered stone wall overlooking the beach, the horizon awash with golden hues melting into soft purples. A faint breeze carried the scent of salt and seaweed, rustling the palm trees that lined the shore.

It should’ve felt peaceful. It should’ve brought comfort.

But to Lando, it was just another reminder of what you were missing.

He gripped a Polaroid camera in his hands—the same one you’d gifted him years ago on one of your many adventures. "So we can remember the little things," you had said with a grin, snapping the first photo of him right then and there. That photo was still in his wallet, fraying at the edges from years of handling.

But tonight, it felt heavier than ever.

He tilted his head back, letting the fading sunlight warm his face. For a moment, he imagined you beside him, your laughter ringing out as you teased him for getting too sentimental. He could almost hear your voice.

“Enjoy the sunset, Lando,” you’d say. “Moments like these don’t come often.”

You were right—they didn’t. But now, he wasn’t sure he wanted to enjoy them. Not without you.

Lando still replayed the last time he saw you over and over in his mind. The memory clung to him, sharp and unrelenting. You’d been standing at the airport, a soft smile tugging at your lips as he hugged you goodbye.

“Don’t forget to take lots of pictures,” you’d teased, your arms tightening around him.

“As long as you don’t forget to answer my calls,” he’d replied, resting his chin on your head.

You’d laughed, leaning back to look into his eyes. “Never.”

But life had other plans.

The accident happened on an ordinary day, the kind of day that should’ve been insignificant. Lando had been across the world, standing on a podium with champagne in his hand and a grin on his face, completely unaware that his world was already breaking.

He hadn’t even been there when it happened.

That was what haunted him the most—the distance, the helplessness, the fact that he couldn’t save you. He couldn’t hold your hand, couldn’t whisper reassurances, couldn’t tell you one last time how much he loved you.

Now, he’d give anything to go back. To the last time he looked into your eyes. To the moments he’d taken for granted. To the kisses he hadn’t stolen, the hugs he hadn’t given, the pictures he hadn’t taken.

The nights felt endless without you. He filled them with distractions—races, interviews, dinners with friends—but nothing worked. The second he was alone, the grief swallowed him whole.

One night, he found himself in the car, driving aimlessly through the streets of San Juan. He didn’t even know why he’d come here. Maybe because it was the last place where you’d truly been happy, where the two of you had spent sun-soaked days exploring the island and dancing under the stars.

Eventually, he ended up at a small bar tucked away on a quiet street. The air inside was thick with the smell of rum and the sound of salsa music. Lando sat at the counter, ordering a drink he didn’t want but couldn’t bring himself to leave untouched.

The bartender, an older man with a kind face, gave him a curious look. “You’ve got the look of someone carrying a heavy heart,” he said.

Lando managed a weak smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. Something like that.”

The bartender nodded knowingly, sliding the drink toward him. “Grief is a heavy thing, my friend. But it means you loved deeply. That’s a rare gift.”

Lando swallowed hard, the words hitting too close to home. He stared into his glass, his reflection distorted by the amber liquid.

“I should’ve taken more pictures,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music. “I should’ve kissed her more, hugged her more.”

The bartender’s expression softened. “The regrets never go away, but neither does the love. Hold onto that.”

Later that night, Lando found himself back on the beach, the Polaroid camera slung over his shoulder. The moon hung low in the sky, its light reflecting off the waves that lapped gently at the shore. He dropped down onto the sand, his knees pulling up to his chest as he stared out at the endless expanse of water.

He thought about you—your laugh, your touch, the way you used to hum softly when you thought no one was listening. He thought about the way you’d wrinkle your nose when you were concentrating, the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about something you loved.

“Tell me, love,” he whispered to the night, his voice breaking. “Where are you?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“I’d meet you anywhere,” he continued, tears streaming down his face. “Just tell me where.”

He imagined what it would be like to see you again, even for a moment. He thought about all the things he’d say, all the things he hadn’t said before. He thought about the pictures he’d take, the memories he’d hold onto so tightly this time.

But no matter how hard he wished, you wouldn’t come back.

The Polaroid camera sat heavy in his lap. For a long time, he just stared at it, his fingers trembling. Then, with a deep breath, he lifted it to his face and snapped a picture of the ocean under the moonlight.

The photo slid out, the image slowly developing before his eyes. It wasn’t much—just the empty beach, the waves shimmering in the distance. But it was something.

He leaned back against the sand, holding the photo tightly in his hand. His chest felt hollow, the weight of your absence pressing down on him like a physical force.

“I hope you can see me,” he whispered. “Wherever you are. I hope you know how much I miss you.”

The waves continued to crash softly against the shore, a steady rhythm that matched the aching pulse of his heart.

“I’ll never stop loving you,” he said, his voice cracking. “Even if it hurts. Even if it’s forever.”

And as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, Lando sat there, the picture in his hand and your memory etched into his soul, forever a part of him.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hmma3 , @same1995, @amatswimming, @llando4norris

[anontheghost]

So... What is the deal with Blitz's and Moxxie's upbringing?

Let's start by saying the obvious: Blitz’s and Moxxie’s families are almost exact mirrors to each other: They both have terrible, greedy fathers who just enjoy making their lives miserable and amazing dead mothers who we know nothing about except their cause of death and how much they are missed by their sons. 

The only significant distinctions are that Moxxie's story is splattered with glossy mafia paint and that his mother was drowned while he was still a very young child. On the other hand, Blitz's mother, Tilla, died when he was a teenager and was burned to death. The rest? Pretty much the same.

However, the similarities between their backstories are not really the problem; after all, in real life, we can find people who lived through similar traumas and that is a pretty interesting aspect to explore in fantastical stories as well. 

Many other shows have done it incredibly well (Bojack Horseman) but Helluva Boss failed in that department. 

The very interesting family dynamics were only bought at the surface level, not explored in any meaningful way except to give the characters “cheap trauma moments” that could potentially get ruined by either the insertion of out of place comedy or never mentioned again. 

How am I supposed to treat Crimson’s abuse of Moxxie as something serious when the minute before dildos popped out the walls for a joke? How did Blitz’s guilt over the fire and his mother’s death truly affect his relationships—romantic or otherwise? Was it all just a narrative plot to drag the Stolitz charade for as many episodes as possible? Heck, we do not even see Blitz and Mooixe interact more about their shared trauma! Or about how much they missed their mothers.

It is a little depressing because, despite knowing nothing about Moxxie and Blitz's mothers, we, the viewer, are expected to care about them and see their significance. Instead we are left with a million questions that will probably never have an answer. 

Were they really good parents or are their sons only remembering the good parts of their relationship because they are dead? 

How did they truly influence their kids? Did Moxxie’s love for musical theater come from his mother? Did Blitz’s fascination for horses be because of Tilla or was it someone else?

How was their relationship with their husbands and why did they stay even after the marriage went south? What brought them together in the first place? Because, in all honesty, both couples just don't seem compatible in any way, that one just can help but ask how did everything worked.

Sadly, we can only speculate. 

So, without further due, these are my speculations. Part of the great rewrite that I am doing of the series. Because sometimes terrible writing decisions just move my creative juices in the right direction. 

Tilla and Cash Buckzo.  “I do love you, as much as I am capable of loving anyone, which is never enough.”

What would have happened if Princess Carolyn and Bojack Horseman ignored all the red flags in their relationship and chose to get married anyway? That wouldn’t have been good, but that is exactly what happened to Tilla and Cash Buckzo—the result was a messy marriage where love could not overcome their different views on life and incompatible personalities.

So... why did they stay in a marriage that was not working? Simple, a divorce would mean financial ruin for both of them.

Let me explain. 

(Worldbuilding note: How marriage functions and how people in Hell generally view it is one aspect of the Hellaverse that truly baffles me. To avoid confusion, each ring in this revision will have its own set of marital norms and perspectives.)

(In the Greed Ring, marriage is nothing more than another business transaction and is treated as such. Two individuals may absolutely hate each other, but if the marriage will benefit them economically, then they will go through with it.)

The sole compelling argument for Cash and Tilla's marriage was that it was the wisest course of action to maintain and save their respective livelihoods. Imps are not permitted to own companies (as I stated in the Stolitz Non-Romance rewrite.) and in the Greed Ring, Mammon owns ALL of the entertainment industry (circuses included) and he will not hesitate to shut down a circus if it is not bringing the profit.

The small circuses Cash and Tilla were supervising were on the brink of bankrupsy, so what better solution than to marry each other and combine their assets? It will give them more time to survive.

In hindsight, their plan worked perfectly; Tilla and Cash were able to build up themselves financially, and using their combined business talents, they were able to expand their new big renovated circus and turn in a profit that would keep Mammon off their backs. 

They were great business partners, but as a couple, they lacked a lot. 

They did occasionally have tender moments, but they were squandered by arguments, lengthy silences, and extremely uncomfortable dinners. At one point, they even began sleeping in different beds, just to avoid fighting. Everybody who knew them could see that they were just not good for each other and could barely tolerate the other presence.

This begs the question: How did they manage to have Blitz and Barbie?

The decision to have a kid was straightforward and, like their marriage, based on business. They wanted a successor to take over their responsibilities when they died, as it was something now needed as the circus grew. So one night, they decided to get drunk and just get it over with.

But, to the surprise of themselves and everyone else, Tilla and Cash were their best selves throughout the pregnancy. 

During those four months that the pregnancy lasted, Cash and Tilla acted like a happy couple, anxiously waiting for the arrival of their beloved baby. They no longer fought; they were just too busy happily imagining a future where the three of them would be happy while preparing for their child.

Maybe everything would be okay; their relationship could only get better from now on, right? Once their beautiful little girl arrives, they will be a complete family of three with no intentions of adding more. 

Yikes.

In their defence, there are few medical facilities available to imps, and when they attended the controls, the physicians informed them that they would only be having one child, Barbie.

Their budget and plans were severely ruined by Blitz's unexpected arrival because they were only ready to provide full care for one baby, not two. If Mammon kept the majority of the profits, how would they be able to buy two of everything? 

They would endure a long period of hardship and didn’t they enter this marriage to prevent just that?!

Tilla, being the mother and the one who gave birth, accepted this change, promising to love both children equally; sadly, Cash didn’t.

It didn’t take too long before they started fighting again, even if it was in front of their kids. As you can imagine, growing up with parents who fought even for the most minimal of problems leaves a long-lasting impression on a child and how they will handle their own relationships in the future. 

To this day, Barbie still has problems telling her girlfriends when something is wrong or is upsetting her. On the other hand, Blitz gets overwhelmed when he notices things going south in a relationship and leaves it all together. 

Things didn’t really improve much as the twins grew up. 

Sure, the family had their relative moments of peace, but Cash only paid real love and attention to Barbie, being the child he really wanted while completely ignoring Blitz. Tilla, upset about this but knowing that Cash won’t change, tried to give more attention to her son, accidentally ignoring her daughter’s needs.

Yes, Tilla was not a “perfect, angelic mother," canon portrayed her as. If anything, she was a little bit overbearing when it came to Blitz, as she felt she needed to make up for his father’s abandonment. She genuinely believed that Barbie didn’t need her as much, and the girl liked to spend more time with her father anyway, who needed to train her to take over the circus.

At this point, their family was divided into two separate families that just happened to live in the same house: one consisted of a kind but overprotective mother and her son; the other, a strict but understanding father and his daughter/heir. The only point in which Tilla and Cash interacted was when they worked on the circus, or when they were fighting for the most minimal things. 

Their family dynamic was mostly like that... until Tilla died.

Blitz remembers only the good moments he spent with her, looking at her actions and life with rose-colored glasses of love. For him, Tilla was the perfect mother who basically could do no wrong. 

However, if you ask Barbie, she’ll say that while she is sad that her mother passed away, she is unable to truly feel devastated since she never knew the woman well enough. Barbie is even a bit resentful for the times Tilla chose to spend time with Blitz instead of her.

And with Cash... How would you think Bojack would react if PC died before him? 

Now… what about Moxxie’s family?

Crimson and Belia (Name I am giving Moxxie’s mom)

"You better grow up to be something great, to make up for all the damage you done."

One particular thing that I noticed about Crimson is how young he looks despite being Moxxie’s dad. If I knew nothing about Helluva Boss and someone showed me a picture of those two, I would 100% believe they are siblings, not father and son.

While we can attribute this to Vivzie's inability to draw older men, why not play with this?

Let's set up the stage.

When Moxxie entered the picture, Crimson and Belia were just seventeen years old and not even dating. However, I suppose that when you are a careless teenager, the consequences of forgetting the condom don't truly hit you until something goes wrong.

As one may expect, Crimson was not happy with the news and was even more angry when Belia told him that she wanted to keep the baby and sustained her ground no matter how many times Crimson told her to get rid of the pregnancy. Why not? They were both fucking teenagers, just fooling around and he had no intentions of becoming a father, at least not this young! What was truly stopping her?

Nobody truly knows why Belia chose to keep her son to this day. 

When alive, she would tell you without a doubt that she loved her child from the first moment and couldn't bear to let him go, even in the face of less than perfect circumstances. But Moxxie hasn't believed that version of the story in a very long time. 

Moxxie now thinks that the main reason why Belia had him was because she didn't want to endure the awful and harsh conditions of an Imp Health Center. Due to the horrible way the doctors treated the imp patients, lack of medicine and equipment, most imps avoided those places like the plage.

Unfortunately, sick imps had no other choice but to go to the centers for treatment. Because if an imp even dares to step a hoof on the more well equipped hospitals in Sloth or Lust, they would be immediately kicked out no matter the emergency.

For more serious issues, wealthy imps (like Crimson's family) would hire a private physician. However, Belia was aware that Crimson would never spend that kind of money on her. 

Or maybe Belia didn’t want to give Crimson the satisfaction of getting out of his responsibilities. 

When Crimson's own father learned about the, at that point, already advanced pregancy, he forced Crimson and Belia to get married. Given the Knowlastname family's significant power in Greed's imp neighborhoods, Crimson's status as an unmarried young father would be viewed as a shameful scandal.

Belia only consented to the marriage because she had nowhere else to go. When her parents found out that their seventeen-year-old daughter was expecting, they were so disappointed that they disinherited and prohibited her from ever returning home.

(Later, when I rewrite Exes and Oh's, I will go into more detail about what Crimson’s family does in the Greed Ring. They are still involved in “less than legal” practices and loan sharking, but is a little bit different than in canon since now I based the Greed Ring in the entertainment industry.)

Of course, as one may expect, things in that marriage went south real fast. 

Every time Crimson looked at Moxxie and Belia, he saw nothing but the two demons who took away his carefree teenhood together with the respect of his father, and with each passing year, he just became more and more cruel. At one point, he simply started physically abusing his wife, who always put herself as a buffer between Moxxie and Crimson.

If Belia dared to raise her voice against her husband, Crimson would merely tell her that the opportunity to leave him went away the minute she decided to bring “that brat” into hell without his permission. Now she was just reaping what she sowed.

Being physically and mentally abused by her husband (who, as a bonus, also turned everyone in the household against her) took a toll on Belia’s mental health. She still wanted to be the best mother she could be, but how can you raise a child in an environment where everybody sees them as the enemy? When your mind makes your body so heavy that getting out of bed becomes an impossible task?

More than once, Belia considered taking her son and moving back to Wrath. But then, to where? Her parents didn’t want to see her; she lost contact with her friends, and since she never finished school, she had no hireable qualities. How would she support herself and Mooxie if she decides to leave? Being a single imp mother in hell is not easy!

It was impossible! At this point, she just needed to endure. 

She will not let Crimson win; she will not let that man break her and Moxxie. While Crimson was definitely stronger than her, putting on a smile after a beating that sent Crimson into a frustrated frenzy was all she needed to feel she had won, even if her body stated otherwise.

There were also the times she and Moxxie went on hikes together, pretending that they were going on a grand adventure as far away from Crimson as possible. Being happy when Crimson didn’t want them to was the little act of rebellion she needed to stay sane.

However, Belia’s breaking point came after Moxxie’s seventh birthday, just a few months after Crimson’s father died, when her “beloved” husband brought home another pregnant imp. 

Belia was no idiot; she knew that her husband had been cheating on her for years, but she never said anything because she didn’t care enough to do it. So, Crimson had a side piece? big deal, she stopped loving him a long time ago. 

However, it was too much to bear to watch Crimson, a guy she believed to be utterly cruel, be a loving and caring partner to this imp and be so thrilled about the birth of their cherished child.

I mean, when you witness the same man who repeatedly denigrated your son, cursed and beat you for being pregnant, joyfully decorating a nursery while choosing baby names and spoiling his new partner, whom he never raised his voice at, it can and will break something in you. 

Ultimately, what could be worse? Accepting that your partner will never change? Or realizing that you were never worth the positive change they could bring about?

What did she do wrong?

Moxxie still doesn’t know what happened to his mom; what is certain is that one day he woke up and she was not there. While part of him is sure that Crimson killed her so he could marry his new partner, there is a part of him, small but loud, that tells him that Belia abandoned him at the mercy of his father. 

Why would she not? Moxxie knows that he looks a lot like Crimson, so it was possible that at some point, his poor mother couldn’t look at him anymore without remembering her abuser. He is also familiar with the sad reality that, if Belia tried escaping with him, the possibilities of re-doing her life with a kid on her toe would have been very slim.

Not to mention impossible.

After his mother disappeared, Moxxie became a ghost in his own house. Apart from giving orders and degrading him, Crimson was more focused on his new family and new children to “waste energy” in a son he never wanted. While Moxxie’s step-parent was not physically violent, their constant degrading of Belia and their attempts to erase all trace of her existence really put Moxxie on edge.

Sadly, he couldn’t say anything because the first and only time Mooxie tried to go against their wishes, Crimson put a stop to that real fast. 

Moxxie had to see firsthand how Crimson was a true, loving father to his stepsiblings. He listened to them constantly, never yelled at them, and never struck them—things he never did with his first kid. He also made sure to teach them how their big brother was nothing but a failure and to stay clear of him since “wimpyness” could be contagious.

Moxxie wishes he could know them better.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o00o00

And this is all for today. I will give more information about Mooxie’s family (as well as his relationship with Chaz) when I rewrite Exes and Oh’s. Remember that these are mostly my first draft thoughts and can and probably will be changed for the final product. 

I hope you enjoy! I love when you comment!

[plumeria1]

Happy Birthday Powder

Note : I wanted to publish it for Jinx's birthday but I couldn't wait until October 10th.

Masterlist

Pairing: Timebomb Powder x Fem Reader

Content: Fluff, angst (I'm not sure if it's angst) timebomb au

Warning: None

Summary: It's Powder's birthday and you got a surprise for her

It was Powder's birthday today, and everyone at the Last Drop had been there to wish her well. Mylo and Claggor had done the decorations, Vander took care of the drinks, and Silco handled the meal.

But it was Ekko who had been tasked with the hardest part of the day: keeping Powder away from the bar until everything was ready. You would have gladly taken his place, but you had to finish the surprise you had made for her.

Powder had been very happy to see what everyone had done for her and had spent the entire afternoon talking with her friends and family.

When it was time to receive her gifts, she had been spoiled by everyone, with new tools, notebooks to jot down all her ideas, and many other things.

The only gift she hadn't received yet was yours.

-It's not here.

That was what you had told her, and since then, she had been trying to guess, but no one wanted to give her a clue; she was too smart, and would have surely figured it out very quickly.

Once the cake was blown out, you still wondered where Silco could have found that all-blue cake covered in edible glitter. After the meal was finished, everyone said goodnight and went home.

There was only you and Powder left. You got up from your chair and extended your hand to her, which she took with joy.

-Come on, it’s time for your surprise.

You walked to your hideout, but before entering, you covered her eyes with your hands to maintain the element of surprise.

-Watch where you're stepping.

-Maybe I would see where I’m going if you took your hand away from my eyes, don't you think?

Powder couldn’t see you, but she knew you, and knew that you had just rolled your eyes.

-I already know where we are, why don’t you want to tell me anything?

Sometimes she was really too curious, but that was why you loved her.

-Because it’s a surprise.

All you hoped was that it would make her happy. You would have felt guilty if it made her sad. You continued to move her forward, being careful not to let her get too close to the edge.

She smiled when you made her stop, realizing that you had arrived.

-You ready?

-Come on, take your hands off.

She was eager to know what you had done for her. She squinted a little, letting her eyes adjust to the light, and smiled upon seeing the fairy lights and the chairs you had set up. You had created a real cozy little nest in that unused part of her hideout that she had never known how to use.

-That’s awesome!

With a big smile, she stepped forward to hug you and thank you, but you gently pushed her away, making her furrow her brows.

-Look further.

She noticed that she hadn't seen everything and approached. She remained silent in front of what she saw. A small table was set up against the wall, on it were candles and incense that had never been lit. There were also some of the little things she had made over time and her stuffed rabbit.

However, it was the center of the table that caught her attention the most: there was a portrait of her sister, Vi, just as she had seen her for the last time.

You had approached her while she was sitting on the floor, facing the table.

-Ekko painted it. I know you miss her, so I thought with this you could have her with you whenever you want.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a tear rolling down her cheek.

-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad. It might not have been a good idea to do that.

You lowered your head. Making Powder cry was the last thing you wanted, especially on her birthday. But you were surprised to feel her wrap her arms around you.

-I think it's the best gift I've received. Thank you.

She didn’t say anything else, just contented herself with holding you while looking at Vi's portrait with a smile. You kissed the top of her head and held her in your arms in return.

-Happy birthday, Powder.

[samanthacastano02]

Hyunjin - Leave

Hyunjin x FemReader

Warnings: angst, fighting (Non-physical between Hyunjin and Reader), Knife violence, Major Character death (With resuscitation), Saseang, Blood, Description of getting stabbed, Medical inaccuracy, probably more (let me know if I miss any) 

Word Count: 4738

Summary: You get into a fight with Hyunjin, after showing up at his dorm. You had been having a hard time with work, and the hate that you were receiving from a small percentage of fans, you didn’t want to tell Hyunjin and worry him more. But when he gets angry and calls you clingy, leaving you alone in his dorm things take a turn for the worse. 

Photos are not mine, credits go to photographers

Hyunjin and I had been dating for a little over two years and it had been the happiest two years of my life. He was the sweetest and most romantic partner that I could ask for, bringing me flowers randomly, using me as his muse when he felt inspired to paint, and when he was out on tour he would send me photos of things that he saw that reminded him of me. As he and I began dating longer, I got to meet his members and they became like brothers to me. Because Hyunjin lived with Changbin, I grew close with the older boy, he treated me like I was his younger sister. He picked on me but still made sure that Hyunjin was taking care of me and threatened to handle Hyunjin if he wasn’t. 

Around six months ago we decided that we were tired of hiding our relationship from the public so we had spoken to JYP entertainment and their publicist to form a plan to announce our relationship. Most of their fans were extremely supportive and were extremely happy for us, but there were a few who weren’t too happy about it. They didn’t make it known to Hyunjin but they made it very well known on my social media pages, most of the time the comments got buried in the positive comments but sometimes it was hard to ignore them. I didn’t want to tell Hyunjin because I knew that it would worry him. 

The issues had started about three months after we had announced our relationship to the public, there seemed to be one fan in particular that was really unhappy that Hyunjin and I were dating. She had been leaving threats on almost all of my recent posts, threatening that if she ever saw me in person that I should watch my back. It made me anxious but I ignored it because most of the time they were just harmless threats. 

Present: 

It had been a long day at work, my boss had been on my ass for everything. Even stuff that wasn’t in my department, and then getting mad when I couldn’t complete the task. My project partner was no help, spending the entire day on her phone instead of helping get the report finished for our meeting at the end of the week. Hyunjin had been radio silent for the majority of the day, just texting this morning and then nothing. I knew that he was busy recording and getting ready for his next comeback but it would have been nice to hear from him. I knew that he would be home before me tonight which would be nice, because that meant that I would be able to rant about my day to him and get a very needed cuddle session from him. 

The day seemed to drag by at a snail's pace, by the time the end of the day came it was already dark out and the streets were mostly empty. Because my project partner was no help, it took way longer than expected to get the work done which caused me to leave the office at close to 8:30pm, Hyunjin usually drops me off at work but he had left this morning before I had even woke up which left me to ride the bus to work. 

With the project finally in the reviewing stage I could finally go home and relax with Hyunjin. I still hadn’t heard from him but I knew he was at home because he had made it a thing to share each other's location for safety reasons. I made my way out of the office, walking to the bus stop that wasn’t too far from my work. I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me, but anytime that I  looked around I couldn’t see any one. I was on edge the entire time while waiting for the bus, constantly looking around trying to see if there was anyone. Finally after around ten minutes of waiting the bus finally arrived, as I got onto the bus I did see a girl around my age get on but I didn’t think anything of it. Not thinking about the fan that had been leaving threats on all of my posts. 

When I finally got off the bus, I noticed that she also got off behind me. I was aware of her, deciding to test a theory to see if she just lived in the same area as me or if she was actually following me. I took the long way to get to Hyunjin and Changbin’s dorm room, which meant taking four right turns. To my horror, she turned every time that I did, I sped up my walk a little bit trying to lose her but any time that I tried to lose her she sped up as well. When I got to his dorm, I rushed up the stairs and entered Hyunjin’s dorm in a panic because she was rushing up the stairs after me. 

“Jinnie, are you home?” I called out into the silent dorm, but I didn’t hear anything back. I thought that maybe he might be in his room painting again with his headphones in. I really just wanted him to hold me and reassure me that everything would be ok. I slipped on the cute bunny house slippers that Jinnie had gotten me for my birthday earlier this year and walked to his room, I couldn’t hear anything. I knocked gently on his door before pushing it open, when it opened I could see that he was in the zone and focused on his painting. I didn't want to bother him so I was just going to lay on his bed.  He must have seen movement out of the corner of his eye because he turned towards me but instead of the usual warmth and love in his eyes, he looked at me with a cold stare.

“What are you doing here?” He asked me coldly. “What do you mean? I usually end up coming over after I get off? Your place is closer to both of our jobs and I wanted to spend time with you?” I say hesitantly.

“It wouldn’t hurt to spend time at your own place, you don’t always have to be here.” “I-I’m sorry. I just wanted to see you, today has been a hard day and I just wanted to cuddle.”

“I get no time to myself y/n, you are always around.” “Hyunjin, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome here.”

“Can you just go home tonight, I can’t deal with your clinginess.” “I’m being clingy? I’m sorry that I wanted comfort from my boyfriend after my job has been stressful.”

“Your job is stressful? Don’t try to be funny.” “Hyunjin, I’m not joking. Today was really stressful.” “Just go home y/n, I don’t want you here and I especially don’t want to deal with your clingy self.” “I’ll go home after work tomorrow, I just - I don’t feel safe going home tonight.”

“God even when I ask for space you can’t give that to me. If you won’t leave then I will.”

“Hyunjin, please you don’t have to leave. I’ll leave you in your room. I’ll sleep on the couch and then tomorrow after I get off work I’ll go home to my apartment instead of coming here.” “No. I don’t even want to be in the same place as you right now y/n because you can’t respect my wishes and go home tonight.”

“Hyunjin, the reason I don’t want to go home tonight is because I was followed home.”

“If you're going to come up with an excuse, come up with one that is more believable.” “Fine, Hyunjin. I will go home, when Binnie gets here I will ask him to drive me home.”

“Whatever, I’m leaving until then. Have Changbin text me when you leave.”

“What does this mean for us? What’s going to happen to us?”

“Honestly y/n I don’t know and quite frankly I don’t care. You not respecting my wishes to leave is making me really rethink this relationship.”

“O-o-oh, I see.”

“I’m leaving.”

With that he angrily walks out of the dorm, I was in shock. The way that Hyunjin had reacted was not his normal behavior. I sat down on the couch and began to sob. I didn’t know when Changbin was supposed to get here, I didn’t know if Hyunjin would be coming back. Hell I didn’t even know if there was even a relationship between him and I anymore. I was crying so hard that I could barely breathe, sobs racking my chest. It felt like my heart was breaking over and over, I didn’t know how to deal with this pain, I wanted the ground to swallow me and never let me out. I thought that I was going to spend the rest of my life with Hyunjin and now I don’t know what’s going to happen. What I thought was going to be a night of comfort turned into a night of pure heartbreak.

I sat on the couch crying for who knows how long, when I finally heard the door open. I jumped up thinking that it was either Hyunjin or Changbin coming home. I was really hoping that it was Hyunjin because that man was the absolute love of my life, and even if what he said wrecked me I wanted to be with him. But when I got to the front entryway, it wasn’t Hyunjin or Changbin. There in the entryway stood the same girl from earlier, I slid to a stop in pure terror because in her hand was a knife. 

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” “He’s going to be mine. He won't miss you, all I need to do is remove you from the picture entirely.” she sounded crazy, not making any sense.

“You need to leave. This is private property.” “What are you going to do? Call your boyfriend for help? Oh yea, he doesn’t want to talk to you or see you right now.” “I’m calling the police.” I rushed back into the living room, where I left my phone. I can hear the girl rushing after me, just before I can get to my phone she knocks me down, feet away from my phone. I was already tired from the long day of work and the fight with Hyunjin. I tried to fight her off the best that I could, but due to my exhaustion she got the upperhand on me and shoved the knife into my side. The pain was blinding, but I kept trying to fight her off. 

My attacker continued to have the upper hand on me, repeatedly pulling the knife out of me and stabbing me somewhere else in the stomach or side. I tried to fight back but soon the pain and blood loss got too much and I stopped fighting, closing my eyes. She must have thought that she got the job done, because soon she pulled the knife out and stabbed it one last time, just because she could, before pulling it out and rushing out of the apartment leaving me bleeding out on the carpet of Hyunjin and Changbin’s dorm. With a rush of adrenaline I pulled myself the agonizing last few feet to where my phone lay. In my pain-addled brain, I didn’t think to call emergency services, I thought to text Hyunjin one last time. Knowing that there was no way I was going to survive this. I sent this text through siri, not having the strength to lift my arms anymore

To Hyunjinnie: Hyunjin, my love. I love you so much, I’m so sorry. I hope you have the happiest and brightest days my love. I’ll see you again someday. 

Changbin’s POV:

It had been a long day at the studio, I was ready to get back to the dorms and crash for the night but before that I knew that I needed to take y/n home. Hyunjin had texted me a couple hours ago saying that he and y/n had gotten into a fight and she didn’t have a ride home. When I got to the dorms, there was an odd air surrounding the building, it was oddly quiet. When I got up to our floor, our dorm door was already open. I thought it was odd but didn’t think anything of it, maybe in his rush out Hyunjin didn’t shut it all the way. I slipped off my shoes and slipped on my house slippers. I walked into the house looking for y/n so I could see if she’s ready to be taken home to her apartment. But to my horror, I find her lying on the living room floor in a pool of her own blood. I rush to her, dropping to my knees beside her. In my panic I did manage to call emergency services, I knew that I needed to apply pressure to her wounds. 

Her chest was barely rising and falling, I was panicking, I didn’t know what to do. Her eyes weren’t open, and she was losing blood at a rapid pace. Emergency services just told me to keep applying pressure on her wounds until they got here, unless her chest stopped rising. I was praying that her heart didn’t stop, I needed her to be ok. She was like my little sister. I wanted to do everything that I could to protect her, I knew that Hyunjin also loved her and would never forgive himself. 

After what felt like an eternity, the emergency services finally arrived. She was barely alive when they got to her, they rushed to get her on the gurney. As they were rushing out of the dorm, I heard them yell that she was flatlining, I rushed after them. When I came out I saw that one of the paramedics was now kneeling above her on the gurney performing chest compressions while another was putting in a tub so that they could provide air to her. They didn’t stop moving after they got everything into place, just as they shut the doors to the ambulance I heard them say that they got her heart rate back. It was a relief but it was hard to tell if she was going to make it or not. I knew that Hyunjin was with Bang Chan and I.N, I knew that I needed to call them and have them meet me at the hospital. I walked back into the apartment and grabbed my phone, but before I could call Bang Chan the police pulled me aside for questioning. Once I explained all that I knew they allowed me to call Bang Chan finally, he answered on the fourth ring. 

“Chan, are you with Innie and Hyunjin right now?” “Yeah, I am. Why, what’s up?”

“I need you to put me on speaker and then sit down.”

“Changbin, what’s going on?”

“Put me on speaker and then I will explain, ok?” “Alright, give me a second. The boys are playing a game. Can it wait until they are done playing the game?” “Sadly no this can’t.” “Alright.” I can hear him call out to the two boys, after a minute I can hear all three of them sit down.

“Alright Changbin, why’d you want me to get the boys?”

“It has to do with y/n” I say hesitantly.

“Changbin, I don’t want to talk about her.” Hyunjin says, getting angry. “Hyunjin, shut up and listen.” that shuts him up quickly.

“Changbin, what’s going on? Why the short temper?” “I don’t know how to say this.”

“Is something wrong?” Innie asks.

“When I came back from the studio, I found the door to the apartment open. I thought that in his anger, Hyunjin had left it open-”

“I didn’t.” Hyunjin cut me off.

“I know now that you didn’t. But when I walked into the dorm, I um, I found y/n.” I paused, tearing up.

“Found her how?” Chan asked, with a bit of hesitancy in his voice.

“I found her lying on the floor, in a pool of blood.” I finally responded. “What?!” Hyunjin yelled into the phone.

“She had been attacked sometime between when Hyunjin had left and when I came home.”

“Do they know who attacked her?” Chan asked.

“Yes, they do. They are looking for her.”

“Explain what you know, please.” “She had been getting hate and death threats for months, Hyunjin.” “But she never told me?” “She didn’t want to worry you, she knew that you had enough on your plate and didn’t want to add more to your plate.” “S-she should have told me.” “The police said that a sasaeng attacked her, she was stabbed 15 times in the stomach and chest. She was on her way to the hospital around 30 minutes ago, I would have called sooner but I had to talk to the police.” “Innie, get the car. I’m gonna get Hyunjin’s shoes and get him down there. Changbin, we’ll meet you at the hospital.” Chan said as I heard comotion.

Hyunjin’s POV:

I sat on the couch in shock, y/n had been attacked by a crazed fan in my dorm. A place that she should have felt safe in, she wasn’t. What kind of boyfriend was I to let her get attacked by someone who was apparently a fan of ours? Would she ever forgive me for letting this happen to her? She told me that someone followed her, that she didn’t feel safe. And what did I want to do, I wanted to send her home to where she would be alone, where it could have been days before anyone actually went and checked on her. I was moving on autopilot, letting Chan and Innie lead me to the car to drive me to the hospital. I didn’t know what to expect when we got there, I was just in a constant state of shock, what if the last thing she heard me say was that I didn’t even know if I wanted this relationship anymore. How stupid could I have been? Of course I wanted this relationship with her still, hell I wanted to marry her. The reason I had been so stressed recently wasn’t just because of comeback season, but because of the fact that I had been planning to propose to her. But I may have just flushed that down the drain when I called her clingy and told her that I wasn’t sure if I wanted the relationship.

When we got to the hospital, Chan had Innie and I wait while he went to talk to the nurses to see what her condition was like. I couldn’t stop shaking my legs while I waited for him to give us the update, Changbin said that he would be here. But I have no idea where he is, and that makes me slightly worried. When I saw that Chan was walking back towards us, I jumped up and walked towards him. 

“What did they say?” I rushed out.

“She’s up in the icu, only friends and family right now and two people at a time. I’ll walk up with you and meet up with Changbin. Her condition is stable for now.” “I-is she awake?” “I’m sorry Jinnie, I didn’t ask but the nurse did say that we could head up there whenever we are ready. She already let the charge nurse of the icu know that we were coming up.” “Can we please? I don’t think that I’ll be able to relax until I see with my own eyes that she is breathing and that her heart is beating.”

“Yes, we can go up.”

Chan grabs my arm, becoming a support for me as we walk to the elevator and head up to the floor that the icu is on. I didn’t know what to expect when we got to her room, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it or not to be honest. I waited by the door, not ready to go in yet, scared to see what condition that she would be in. Chan saw that I was hesitating, knowing that I was worried. 

“Hyunjin, do you want me to go in first? Talk to Changbin and see how she’s doing?” “Please? I don’t think I can go in yet.”

“No worries, I got you.” Channie walks into her room to talk to Changbin. 

It wasn’t that long before both Chan and Changbin walked out of her room, Changbin looked like a mess. When he saw me he broke into tears again and immediately ran up to me, hugging me. At that, the dam broke and the tears began to flow. 

“Hyunjin, I’m so sorry. I should have been there sooner, this should have never happened to her.” “Binnie, what are you talking about?” “If I hadn’t worked so late, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” “Binnie, this isn’t your fault. This is my fault.” “Why is it your fault” “Because, if I hadn’t gotten upset with her then I wouldn’t have left her and that sasaeng wouldn’t have broken in.” “Hyunjin, you can’t blame yourself. Neither of us can blame ourselves for this.” “Go see her, she’s awake. She wants to see you.” Chan interrupts.

I look at Chan and then back to Changbin, they both nod at the fact that she wants to see me and that gives me a little hope that our relationship isn’t completely ruined. I turn towards her door and begin to push the door open, ready to see my beautiful girl. When I finally entered her room, I saw that she was hooked up to an IV and oxygen. When she heard the door open, she turned her attention to me, the smile that lit up her face broke my heart. After everything I couldn’t believe that she was happy to see me.

“You came back! Did you get my text?” 

“Lovie, what text?” “T-the text that I sent earlier tonight. Um r-right after the attack.” “My love I haven’t paid any attention to my phone, I am so sorry.” “Jinnie, I don’t care. I’m just happy that you are here. You're here and that’s all that matters now.”

“I’m not going anywhere now. I will never leave you again. I almost lost you due to my own stupidity and then because of someone who claims to be a fan. But anyone who attacks you and nearly takes you from me isn’t a fan.” “Jinnie, I know we had a fight. What you said hurt a lot. I will try to be less clingy going forward, I don’t want to do anything that could cause me to lose you.” “No no, y/nnie you aren’t clingy. You have never been clingy. I said that in a moment of weakness, and I never ever meant it. Nor did I mean that I didn’t know if I wanted our relationship. I was stressed and I know that’s not an excuse, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for it if you let me?” “Jinnie, what are you asking?”

“Y/n will you marry me. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you if you’ll let me. I will spend every minute of every day showering you in love, love that you deserve. You mean the world to me. I want you to cling to me, I want you to cling to me for the rest of our lives. Until we are gray, old and wrinkly.” “Jinnie. I-I, god yes I’ll marry you. I love you so much.” She tries to lean into me but cries out in pain. I immediately stop her from trying to lean towards me more. I gently pushed her back into her bed and gave her the kiss that she wanted.

Your POV:

I somehow survived the stabbing and because the sasaeng didn’t wear gloves when she broke in, she left fingerprints on the door and the police were able to find her, sentencing her to prison for attempted murder. Jinnie stayed with me the entire time that I was in the hospital, JYP allowed him to go on a short-term hiatus. I had to be in the hospital for a month, the bed was uncomfortable and the food wasn't very good but he was there with me the entire time. We had both talked to JYP and asked if he and I would be allowed to release a statement during a live about what happened and about the engagement, surprisingly he gave us permission to release it on our time as long as when we did the live a staff member was there with us, in case they needed to step in for any reason. 

Epilogue:

 It was the day that we decided to do the live, to both announce the engagement and the statement about what happened and why Jinnie had to take a hiatus. The staff member actually ended up being a friend of mine, which I found slightly funny. I was still on bed rest so Jinnie had set the phone up on the bed in a way that allowed both him and I to be seen, while I was sitting up with my legs resting in front of me. It was comfortable enough for the duration of the live. 

“Hey guys, it’s amazing to see all of you here. Unfortunately this is going to be a short live. We just wanted to clear the air on some stuff and a small but big announcement.” he read the comments for a little while, letting more fans log onto the live. 

“One of the reasons we wanted to do the live, is because we wanted to explain why Hyunjin went on hiatus for a month and a half. He’s back now but we both thought that you deserved an explanation. And before you guys ask, yes we got permission to tell you.” Hyunjin nodded in confirmation.

“I went on hiatus because y/nnie here was in the hospital and I wanted to be with her, I didn’t want to leave her alone in case she needed me.” he read the comments, reading quietly out loud, asking why I was in the hospital. 

“While Jinnie and Binnie were out of the apartment, someone who was very angry with me broke in and attacked me, stabbing me 15 times. Nearly taking my life, I spent two weeks in intensive care before I was moved down to the main floor of the hospital. I’m ok now, just still on bed rest. Hence the giant pile of pillows behind me, because Jinnie here refused to do the live unless I was extremely comfortable and not in pain.”

“She’s ok, and she will continue to be ok. And I thank god every day for that, because I don’t know what I would have done without her. She is my world, her, the boys, and stay, mean everything to me. Sorry boys if you are watching this, she’s higher on the list.” He teases the camera. I lean over and press a kiss to his cheek.

“The other thing we wanted to tell, stay was that-” Hyunjin cuts me off.

“Wait! I want to tell them.” “Go ahead, love.” I gesture towards the camera.

“I asked y/nnie here to marry me, she said yes. Y/nnie here is now the future Mrs.Hwang, if you are unhappy about it please keep it to yourself.” the staff member clears her throat from behind the camera, Hyunjin smiles unapologetically at the camera.“Thank you, all for the well wishes. For those of you asking if we can give health updates, yes we can. We love you, Stay, so much. Continue to be amazing, until next time.” Hyunjin finishes the live before turning towards the staff member, waiting for her to leave. Once she left, he leaned down to give me a loving kiss, one that had a promise of tomorrow and a promise of happiness. I knew that there would be hardship in the future but I knew that we would be happy

[disabled-dean]

Well it looks like my landlord is going to hell, rip 🙏🏻

[a-lonely-dunedain]

I hate the Staghorns so much. every time I do their questline to get that painting I think "oh surely it's not going to make me mad this time around" and YET

[starplusfourletters]

I just think that These Scenes

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

I was just listening to a song I used to love while we were friends. I listened to it so often, we talked so often, it became the background music to our relationship.

I'm listening to it while I knit. I often forget that I started knitting because of you. I remembered tonight. It's strange, I never knitted anything for you. I've knitted for other loved ones, rarely for myself, but never for you. I remembered you showing me the amazing things you made, and I wished I could get to that level of skill. But at that time, you had to explain to me how to purl because I couldn't get it.

Everything reminds me of you in a terrible way. Everything I do is an echo of you. I started painting so that I could paint for you. I started knitting to bond with you. I hear your voice in the music I listen to. You're haunting the things that I love. Will I ever make a brush stroke or stitch without you on my mind?

[riot-grrlboy]

I started writing again recently and I’m going to add that back as a part of my personality

[whenthegoldrays]

I don’t know what it is about the Jane Austen adaptations I’ve seen recently, but they just have so much trouble sticking the landing.