#but I'm really juggling so many things at once

[singular-yike]

The Name "Saragimaru"

A Challenge From JynX

Now that Kanae's 80-hour BotC work marathon is over and I am free man once more, I've suddenly gotten an inexplicable burst in motivation to work on the JynX & Len’en Tweet Collection.

It's exactly what it sounds like, Twitter is, well what it is, these days, and it'd be a shame if we lost such a treasure trove of Len'en history and lore.

It is in the middle of this that I stumbled across this pair of tweets, which is quite interesting indeed:

RIP Clause aside, what really got me is that bit about Yaorochi and Saragimaru's inspirations, especially that bit about how their inspiration right there on their names.

With Yaorochi it's extremely obvious, both its pronunciation and kanji clearly allude to Yamata-no-Orochi; But with Saragimaru, things fall apart real fast. What on earth was their name based on?

Let's take a very, almost certainly overly close, look at the name Saragimaru (蛇穴丸), and try to piece together what it may be about.

Splitting the Name

This is a completely blind area of research for me, and I could scarcely find anything about this on both Japanese and Chinese wikis that had Len'en information.

Searching Saragimaru (蛇穴丸) on its own got me nothing but Len'en either, so I decided to split the name in the most logical way I could think of: Saragi + maru. Now let's take a look at them separately.

Maru

-maru (丸 lit. "circle, round") is a fairly common tomeji (止め字), suffixes commonly added to kanji names, such as ko (子 e.g. Kanako 可南子 or Minako 美奈子) or tarou (太郎 e.g. Kentarou 健太郎 or Kotarou 虎太郎).

Nowadays, -maru is most commonly associated with ship names, but it's still used in a wide variety of names, from people to animal to object names.

It's unclear where it originated from, but a dominant theory is that it comes from the Heian period first-person pronoun maro (麿 or 麻呂). This later came to be added to the names of people who were loved and respected.

This idea of love and treasuring the thing being named would become one of the central ideas of the -maru suffix, often being attached to pet names, especially dog names, as well as names of swords.

Additionally, it's believed that maru, meaning "round", was a euphemism for excretion. It's thought that naming someone with particularly loathsome names could actually protect them from demons and disasters, so they were commonly used for the names of young boys, especially those who were to become warriors.

It is this last angle that I think is relevant here, -maru as a tomeji used for warriors. Saragimaru is certainly a warrior themself, wielding both a one-handed sword and a naginata.

To be honest, this whole ramble about the -maru ateji could really end up being nothing. On one hand, -maru is very likely just another ateji for the everyday Japanese person, but on the other, this is JynX we're talking about, so I though to give it a dive all the same.

Saragi

Now onto the main focus, Saragi (蛇穴), the good thing is that this was a phrase that shows up intermittently throughout Japanese history, so we do have several possibilities to go off of.

Unfortunately, none of them really feel that connected to Saragimaru, so I'm not sure if I'm on the right track at all. Nevertheless, let's check these out from most relevant to least.

Saragi and Autumn

First, let's ignore the reading of saragi and just look at the written phrase 蛇穴, literally "snake hole". It's used in a kigo (季語), words or phrases associated with a season in traditional Japanese poetry.

The phrase is "entering the snake's hole [nest]" (蛇穴に入る), which points autumn in the 9th traditional month, since that is when snakes enter their burrows and hibernate.

This is potentially relevant as EMS in fact takes place in autumn.

Saragi and Pottery

Next, we look at a proposed etymology of the word saragi.

It's believed that the way snakes curled themselves up to dig their burrows used to be called saraki (さらき), this was later loaned to refer to clay pottery, as the process of shaping the pottery was compared to a snake curling up.

This would be relevant to Saragimaru through Sukune Kanato, a clay pottery artisan with whom Saragimaru had some dealings, even requesting the clay replica of the Tasouken from them.

Saragi Village

There is a settlement named Saragi (蛇穴), located in Gose City, Nara Prefecture. There are several theories as to how this name came to be, and is where the above point came from.

But rather than the name itself, what I'd like to draw attention to is a local festival, the "Snake-pulling Soup-scattering Festival" (蛇曳き汁掛け祭り), which takes place on the 5th May every year.

The story goes En no Gyōja (役行者), an ascetic and mystic said to be the founder of Shugendō (修験道), would pass through Saragi Village every day on his way to train on Mount Katsura.

A young girl from the village fell madly in love with En, but he would not even glance at her. Eventually, her feelings grew so strong that she transformed into a snake and chased after him.

However, it happened to be the rice-planting season, and the villagers were working in the field. It was then that they saw a giant snake spewing fire as it slithered across the field.

In their fear, the villagers took the miso soup that was meant to be a light meal for the field workers, and threw it at the snake, chasing it away. The villages gave chase, finding that it ran into a well. They covered the well up with a great boulder, trapping her.

There they built the Noguchi Shrine (野口神社), next to the well the snake was sealed in, to enshrine and provide for the girl's spirit.

The shrine is also dedicated to a dragon god, who has dominion over water. While it's not too clear where it comes from, it seems safe to me to assume that it's the same great snake that the girl transformed into, especially since snakes and dragons were often considered similar beings having power over water.

Below: The "Snake Mound" (蛇塚), where the snake is said to have fled into.

This leads to the "Snake-pulling Soup-scattering Festival", which, as the name implies, has two major events.

First is the "soup-scattering", which is believed to summon rain for good harvest in the coming year.

It used to be that the miso soup is actually thrown at the attendees of the festival. Though because the soup is actually constantly heated by fire, this is no longer done for safety concerns.

Below: The priest of the shrine scattering the soup, yes this is literal.

Next is the Snake-pulling, a giant snake made out of rice straws is made, said to carry the blessing of the dragon god of the Noguchi Shrine, and is even offered a whole bottle of sake.

It's brought to every house of the village, ensuring everyone gets a good harvest. At the end of the parade, its brought to the well, where it's positioned to sit in a coiled position over the well.

Below: The great straw snake atop the well.

That concludes, roughly, the tale of Saragi Village and its extremely unique festival (with some extra details too cause dang it's interesting).

There could be some rough threads drawn between the two

The girl's all-consuming love for En no Gyōja could be compared to Saragimaru's intense devotion to Yaorochi.

The girl's transformation into a great snake, rendered similarly as 大蛇 (lit. "giant snake") in the records.

The festival's purpose to calling upon rain could relate to Saragimaru's ability to manipulate cloudy weather.

In the end I won't say it's really a perfect fit for Saragimaru, but it's certainly the closest I think any of these saragi-related lines of thought have brought us.

Conclusion

And that's really all I was able to find, no satisfactory conclusion this time, just a few potential connections for you to ponder on and drawn your own conclusions with.

This, at the very least, would placate my burning desire to figure out what JynX really means with that tweet, even if it's not the right answer.

As usual, I hope you enjoyed~! :)

[officially-other]

I'll be writing soon

HOO BOI I'm not coherent enough to write at the moment, it's like 5 AM, but let it be known that sometime soon there will be a CHONKY POST. Or maybe a series of chonky posts. I have writing to do about recent experiences. Things are changing around here so fast T-T this is what I get for working with Loki of all deities.

I learned I have a hearthome. My beliefs on the nature of reality have quite literally shifted a little to the left. This opened up a whole new branch of my practice as a witch AND my Alterhumanity. At the same time this is happening, like three different things happened that were pretty damn major to keep me busy irl IN THIS WEEK ALONE??? like???

Loki's laughing. I am living in chaos and Loki is laughing. (frustrated, but affectionate, I swear.)

[isitthemoon]

I don't know what's going on with me and why I haven't interacted much here and why i haven't done things i used to enjoy even if i want to

[ddejavvu]

I do not know Tyler Owens at all but love your writing so i’m gobbling it all up ☆

what if this time, the tornado’s path is going to come too close to their house? how would Tyler break it to scaredy cat, would he stay with her somewhere else or do his job?

No Storm in Sight - Tyler Owens x Reader

please send me tyler owens requests!

Tyler manages to get all of your essentials packed up while you're still asleep, but he can't prevent the blaring tornado sirens from rousing you.

"Tyler?" You jolt awake, fear clinging tight to your chest and leaking into your voice as the awful sounds permeate your once-peaceful night, "Tyler, what- what's going on?"

"Storm's comin', baby," He croons, but his voice is tighter than it would have been if there wasn't any danger. "We're drivin' out for the night. I'm not chasin' this one. Not with you. It- it shouldn't hit here, but it's gettin' close, and I just wanna be safe."

"Oh my god," You're choking on the words while you're trying to get them out, breath short and choppy as you scramble out of bed, "I have to get- we- all of our stuff, Ty, we-"

"I got it. I packed up what we need," He gestures to a hefty backpack of valuables, cash and photos and mementos, everything that can't be bought back after it's whipped into a storm. It comforts you to know that Tyler's prepared, but just because you can replace the rest of your home doesn't mean you want to lose it.

"Come on, honey, you're okay. Let's get into the truck, m'kay?" He soothes, taking your hand in his despite having far too many things to juggle already, "Remember, even if it hits the truck we'll be okay. We're safe in the truck."

"Tyler, I'm scared," You breathe, still seized by the bleariness of sleep but feeling the stabbing pain of panic in your chest, "Please- Tyler please stay with me, I-"

"I'm stayin', darlin'." He promises, but you're not done blubbering.

"No, I mean- don't run back to grab anything, don't- don't get out of the truck for any reason, please Ty, I- I need you to make it out with me or I don't want to make it out at all."

Sirens blare louder but they can't manage to drown out the beating of your heart as you let Tyler drag you into the driveway. Gravel and dirt kicks up around your feet, really, you're walking through a cloud of the stuff, and you fight to maintain clear vision as foliage and dust attempt to steal it from you.

"Push through it, darlin'." Tyler calls, shouting over the roaring winds, "Just get to the truck, okay? We're safe in the truck."

You manage to grip the driver's side doorhandle, and with all of your strength, you rip it open where the wind wants to slam it closed. He holds it open for you, and you crawl over the console so that he can take his seat. Just this once Tyler doesn't make you buckle up before he peels out of the driveway, his bag of your essentials rolling off of the seat and landing on the floor of the truck. You've already got clothes and food packed away, and you're glad that Tyler had evidently made a mental checklist of what else to grab in an emergency. You manage to get your seatbelt buckled as Tyler turns out of your drive, and the dark clouds headed towards your home seem to spell disaster.

"Tyler, it's coming right for us," You choke on a sob that takes you by surprise, one that aches in your chest as you try working through it, "I- What if it knocks down our home, or- or what if it pulls us in, or-"

"Easy, angel baby." Tyler sets a hand on your thigh, using the other one to drive the truck steadily away from the incoming storm, "Like I said, it's not projected to hit us. It's just gonna get real close. Maybe knock down a couple'uh trees, break a window, that sort of thing. But we can fix it. And nothing's gettin' us in here, that's for sure."

You are thankful for the armored safety of his truck, thinking of the drills between the wheels that will anchor you safely into the ground. The storm doesn't look huge, but any storm is a dangerous one, and you're glad you and Tyler will, at least, survive.

The storm seems to curve, now heading left just as much as it is towards your house. You find yourself staring, fixated at it in the mirror until Tyler barks, "Hey. Don't watch it, baby. Look ahead, m'kay? See them clear skies? That's where we're headed."

Your hand shakes as you reach over to settle your own palm on Tyler's thigh, feeling the sturdy, rough material of his jeans beneath your fingers. You mourn the absence of your own sturdy clothes, thin pajama pants feeling bedraggled as Tyler speeds you away from the incoming storm.

You lose sight of the twister as Tyler rockets down the highway, and now the brunt of your worry is on your home, not your safety. Eventually, when there's not a cloud for miles, Tyler pulls over, breathing out one huge sigh as he slumps in his place.

"Ty," You gush, leaning over to wrap him in an awkward hug, "Ty, I- What are we gonna do? What if it gets our house?"

"It won't. It curved, it's- it's swerving. And even if- We can rebuild it," He murmurs, gripping you just as tight, "Don't think about that, baby. We- I... My team'll help. Boone's- Boone's good with electrical. Dani knows an architect. And I can handle the heavy liftin', darlin'. But we won't need that, m'kay? It's goin' the other way now. Our house is gonna be fine. And we're gonna be fine, look. No storm in sight, and we're safe in the truck."

"No storm in sight," You parrot, glad for the presence of Tyler's strong frame in the armored truck beside you. You're glad for the knowledge that the storm is turning away from your home, and you trust Tyler explicitly on the subject, happy for the security he offers as he holds your hand tightly, "We're safe in the truck."

[honeyhotteoks]

this night together - chapter twelve (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter twelve: home is always home

chapter summary: you were planning to tell them how you felt on saturday, but when things go sideways at the studio you find yourself running home as fast as you can.

warnings: this is the chapter i've been warning about for a long, long time. please read responsibly if you're easily triggered by any of the following topics - guy who can't take no for an answer, aggressive/sexist language, physical and verbal assault, panic/ptsd, physical injury/blood, hospitals, police interaction (mentioned), nightmares/night terrors, self harm (sort of?)

notes: please note, if you're reading this on or around 12.3.23 when i'm posting, i've put up three chapters at once. make sure you don't skip chapter ten and eleven! additional notes under the cut~!

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 11.6k

previous chapter | next chapter | AO3

for my readers who aren't that familiar with a/b/o, i'm introducing something in this chapter that you may not have seen before. i wanted to add some context! if you're new to a/b/o, there is something that alphas have often called "alpha tone", "alpha voice", or just "tone". alphas in many depictions have the ability to lower their voice in a particular way that is seen as a strict command to an omega, and it triggers/activates their submission. this is something that can be used negatively or positively, but in this scene will be negative. there's also something called headspace/subspace that you will see referenced, and an omega can be put into headspace/subspace via alpha tone. it is a bit of a dissociative state where the omega can only really hear and understand commands. this can be used negatively or positively as well, but again, definitely not good in this scene. i hope that helps.... and happy/responsible reading!!

You really, really wish today was Saturday and not Thursday. Thursday just means you still have to get through Friday and then all of Saturday morning before your scheduled dinner with Yunho and Mingi and all the things you want to say are practically eating you up inside. But there’s a right way and a wrong way to tell someone you’ve been an idiot and you’re in love with them, and blurting it out in the middle of dance practice isn’t really going to help make this easier. 

God, you hope they still want you. 

On the plus side, this week has been insane. With the full crew back things are moving at a million miles per hour, and you’ve been in more meetings about what’s coming up next in the past week than the entire time you’ve worked for BB Trippin and KQ.

Your schedule for the next six months is frankly intense. Between preparing for year-end stages and working on the choreography for the newly debuting girl group, you’re juggling conversations about New World’s next comeback and the next round of touring. With the money coming in now there’s an opportunity to take more dancers, and that just means more late nights and early mornings getting everything right. 

It’s after your third concept planning meeting of the week that you find two minutes to talk to Wooyoung, his bag already slung over his shoulder as he refills his water bottle. 

“So, you’re going?” You ask him vaguely, trying not to tip off anyone else in the vicinity that he’s got a date. 

“Yeah,” He nods, eyes flicking over your shoulder to see if San and Seonghwa are nearby, “I think I’m going to throw up,” 

“No, you’re not,” You assure him. 

“I might,” He whines, running a hand through his mop of long black hair, “I never know what to say to him,” 

“Woo,” 

“I know what to say to everyone, y/n,” He lowers his voice, panic evident in his eyes, “but every time Sangie smiles I go fucking blank,” 

“Sangie?” Your eyebrow quirks, “Is that what we’re calling him now,” 

“Shut up,” Wooyoung blushes. 

“Wow,” You prod him softly, “you’re down so bad, it’s been like three days,” 

“It’s so bad,” He grimaces, “this is embarrassing,” 

“Now you see how I feel,” You smirk, “it’s kind of fun being on this end of things,” 

“Please,” He rolls his eyes, “are you telling me you’re not panicking?” 

“Oh, no,” You laugh, “I definitely am. It’s just nice to know I’m not alone here,” 

“I was never this mean to you,”

You hold his gaze, just blinking, there’s nothing to say to that he doesn’t already know. 

“Okay, fine,” He sighs, “but still, feeling like this,” 

“Feeling like what?” Seonghwa’s voice shocks you both out of your quiet conversation and you both jump back from each other. 

“Jesus,” You breathe, “you scared me,” 

Seonghwa smiles, “Sorry,” he shrugs, “everything okay?” 

“Perfect,” Wooyoung takes a step back and shakes his head, “totally good,” 

Seonghwa’s brows come together in the middle, “You seem like something’s wrong, can I help?” 

Wooyoung almost blanches, and you know he’s dreading telling San and Seonghwa about Yeosang, so you jump in to help. “Woo was just helping me figure out Saturday,” You cover and draw Seonghwa’s attention back to you, “you know, figuring out what to say to them,”

“Oh,” Seonghwa nods, but you can see that he doesn’t really buy it, “right,” 

“Anyways,” Wooyoung starts walking backwards towards the exterior door, “I have to go, but you know, y/n, call me if you need to talk more later,” 

“I will,” You nod, “I definitely will.” 

Wooyoung knows that what you mean is that you want detailed date updates, and he almost looks mortified at the idea. He disappears fast, leaving you and Seonghwa relatively alone in the hallway. 

“What is up with him this week?” Seonghwa asks, confusion on his face. 

“He has a date,” You tell him quietly, “he’s kind of freaking out about it.” 

“Oh,” Seonghwa glances towards the door where Wooyoung just disappeared, “that’s not that weird for him,” 

“It is if he’s this interested after only a few days,” You say, “but don’t tease him. He’s kind of worked up about the whole thing,” 

“Who’s he seeing?” Seonghwa asks. 

“He should tell you that,” You beg off the gossip immediately, “just do me a favor and give him a little space to talk to you and San about it,” 

“Okay,” He draws out the word, not sure exactly where you’re going. 

“He’s nervous about upsetting the delicate balance,” You gesture towards him, referring to the carefully constructed relationship that is Wooyoung, San, and Seonghwa. 

“He’s seeing another alpha?” Seonghwa jumps to that conclusion with ease, and you can see how he would get there. 

You’re shaking your head before you can stop yourself, “It’s not that,” 

That does surprise him, and Seonghwa’s eyes widen a bit, “Oh,” 

“Right,” You nod, leading him to the conclusion as close as you can without spelling it out, “my point is, he’s nervous and he’s got a pretty serious crush, and he hasn’t said so but I think he’s scared you and San won’t approve.” 

“I would never,” He stumbles over his words, “out of anyone, we would never judge him, he has to know that,” 

“Hey,” You reach for Seonghwa, stepping a little closer so your voices stay low in the entryway as you brush your hand down his forearm, “he knows, he’s just panicking a little.” 

“Should I talk to him?” Seonghwa asks, his eyes earnest. 

“Not yet,” You shake your head, “he’ll figure it out, just don’t push him right now. I’ve never seen him this anxious,” 

“I won’t,” He promises, “thank you for telling me,” 

“Mhm,” 

Seonghwa chews over your words a second and then decides to let it drop. With a sigh he refocuses on work, “Are you staying late?” 

“Yeah,” You shrug, “I have some things to catch up on. You?” 

“I need to track down San,” He says, “but then after that I’m probably heading out a little early,” 

“Nice,” You nod, “still shaking off the jetlag?” 

He nods, “Unfortunately,” 

Down the hall you watch a few of the dancers gathering up their belongings, and then the door to the back office opens to reveal Yunho and Mingi, sitting close together and studying a computer screen as Jaemin leaves for the day. 

“Well,” Your feet are already moving, “then I’ll see you later,” 

“Sounds good,” He says, and then he gives you a knowing look, seeing exactly where you’re headed. 

Before you know it, you’re moving through the people in the hall and trying desperately to come up with a reason for crashing their tete-a-tete. 

“Hey,” You knock softly on the open door, “am I interrupting?” 

“No, no,” Yunho smiles when he sees you and your stomach bubbles. 

“We’re just watching back practice,” Mingi leans back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes. 

“Oh, nice,” You say, and your empty words do little to fill the empty space. 

“Do you… need something?” Yunho tries. 

“Ah, yeah, sorry,” You scramble internally for something to say, “I’m staying late, but I’m kind of starving, I just didn’t know if you still had stuff stashed?” 

“Sure,” He gestures towards the cabinets on the side wall, “whatever you want, help yourself,” 

“Great,” You dash towards the cabinets, and you can’t even imagine eating right now with how fluttery your insides have been, but you snag a couple of protein bars anyways. 

The silence is brutal. Not like before, not like the tense and uncomfortable angry silences of the past, but it’s still sitting there between you. Part of you wants to shut the door right now and just get it all out there, but again, you know you shouldn’t. 

Mingi’s warm, chocolatey scent is richer in here, evident after a hard practice of working up a sweat and being given a chance to permeate with the door closed. You feel your body naturally relaxing at it, so comforting and familiar, and then you get the first pang of Yunho’s warm, summer rain. 

You can hardly believe how you convinced yourself that this wasn’t scent sympathy when right here and now it’s so obvious they belong to you. You wonder if they feel it too. 

“Are you okay?” Mingi’s voice snaps you out of your sudden daydream staring at the cabinet full of snacks. 

“Yeah, yes,” You shut them and step back, “I’m fine, just a little tired.” 

“Not sleeping well?” Yunho says, concern all over his features. 

“I’m fine,” You wave him off, “just a busy week,” 

“You don’t have to stay late,” Mingi offers, “I’m sure whatever you’re working on will still be fine tomorrow,” 

“I know,” You nod, “but if I don’t get it out of my system I’ll just be thinking about it all night, you know how it is,” 

Mingi nods, “Still, take it easy later,” 

“I will,” You promise, and you start to turn towards the door when the words just bubble up out of your throat, “you’re both still free Saturday, right?” 

“Yeah,” Mingi answers for them both, “are you?” 

“Definitely,” You nod, “I just wanted to make sure, I’m looking forward to it,” 

“We could do tomorrow instead,” Yunho offers, “after practice?” 

“As long as you don’t have other plans,” Mingi cuts in, “for a Friday night,” 

“Tomorrow works,” You jump at the chance, “I’d actually love that, I just didn’t want to crowd you when you’re adjusting to the timezone again,” 

“It’s fine,” Mingi brushes that thought off, “I’d rather see you,” 

“Yeah,” Yunho nods, “it’ll be good to catch up,” 

You smile, “I want to hear all about the trip,” 

“The trip,” Mingi says, just repeating your words like he’s weighing them out on his own tongue. 

Something about his voice sends a sharp zing up the back of your spine. 

Your body feels a little soft, relaxing bit by bit. 

Yunho’s eyes flick over you, “Are you sure you need to stay late?” 

Something your primal little brain cannot handle right now is the thought of your alphas being protective, not when you’re standing in this room encased by their scents that feel a little too right. Your stomach tightens and you pray that you’re not blushing pink at the flickering thought in your mind of them taking you home. 

You need to get out of this room before they realize it. 

“I’m good,” You tell him, stepping backwards towards the door, “but thank you, and dinner tomorrow is perfect,” 

Mingi says something, you think he’s agreeing, but you’re giving another excuse over your shoulder about how you need to get back to it so you can make it out of this room. 

Your heart is practically beating out of your chest as you leave the office and make it down the hall, heading for the studio room you’ve booked for the afternoon. You nearly run into Dahan and Minseok as you cut around the corner, but you apologize quickly and barely give them a second glance as you hide yourself away in one of the dance studios alone. 

With the door firmly shut you lean back against the closed door and take a deep breath. These feelings are going to work you into a frenzy if you don’t get them under control. Scent sympathy is rare, an almost perfect match between an alpha and omega that makes every part of a relationship heightened, especially once that initial sympathetic bond is fulfilled with a claim. While they were gone you came to that conclusion slowly, the steady ache in your chest so clearly informed by the lack of them, but now that they’re back and here the realization of it collides into you full-force. 

You love them, that’s true. But what’s more is how much you need them, and how much you hope they need you. You can’t let them realize it before you have the chance to say everything you need to say, and if you had stayed in that room a few minutes more they might have felt themselves. With the dinner moved to Friday you just have one more night to get through. One more night, and one more day of work. And then the chips will fall where they may. 

With a deep breath you let the hammering of your heart slow and then you focus back on the work ahead. The more you pour yourself into work the faster these 24 hours will go, so you put your head down and get to it. 

You work for a long time, probably too long, until your muscles are positively aching and any thoughts of Yunho and Mingi are drowned out by lyrics to the chorus of this song that just keeps looping in your mind as you try different patterns of footwork. Here in this bubble you don’t know who’s still at work, who’s left for the day, what time it is, or if the sun has set yet. You just know your own body and every which way that it moves to this one singular song. 

Your hair is hot around your face, sweat clinging to your brow as you finish out the latter half of the choreography that you’re confident with. It’s fast, and includes so much up and down floor work you’re pretty sure you’d be passing out if you weren’t hydrating properly. Focused on your reflection in the mirror you gather your hair up and away and into a knot and then move to find your towel and water bottle. 

The door to the studio opens behind you, and you glance back without really seeing who’s popping in, “Hey,” 

For a split second it occurs to you that it might be Yunho or Mingi and your stomach flips as you start to turn. 

“Hey, y/n,” Minseok’s voice is a bit of a surprise. 

“Oh, hey,” 

He looks like he’s just stopping by to grab something from the far desk in the corner. You’re honestly surprised that he’s still here, he had looked on his way out earlier when you bumped into him in the hall.  

“Are you heading out for the night?” You take a drink of water and catch your breath, leaning against the mirrored wall behind you. 

“Soon,” He nods, running a hand through his dark hair and snagging a sweatshirt hanging over the back of the office chair. 

“Well,” You smile, “have a good night,” 

“You too,” He says as he walks past you, but then his steps slow and you hear him sigh before he turns on his heel, “listen, can I ask you something?” 

“Sure,” 

“I hope you don’t think this is weird,” He takes a few more steps back towards you, “but I’ve actually been meaning to ask you something for a while now,” 

“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise, and suddenly you can see everything in his expression. You know this look. You know the way men get when they finally rip off the bandage and change the equilibrium of a room, the moment they decide they can’t see you as just a friend. What absolutely terrible timing he has.

“I was thinking,” He says, a little pause before the rest and you hope you’re keeping your face nice and neutral, “do you think I could take you out some time?” 

“Out?” The word leaves you. 

He smiles, “Yeah, out, like a date.” 

“I appreciate that,” You shake your head a little, trying to smile and keep things light, “but I don’t think so,” 

His lip quirks and his nose scrunches and you suppose that if you were interested you might find this part of him charming, but you’re not, so it isn’t. “Are you seeing someone?” He asks. 

“No,” You tell him honestly, “not right now.”

“So, I can’t get you to give me one chance?” He takes a step forwards, gesturing between you both and keeping his gaze hopeful. 

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” You shake your head, “we work together.” 

“Oh, it’s fine,” He assures you, brushing past the boundary you tried to set with casual indifference, “don’t worry about that.” 

“Still,” You shake your head, “but thank you for asking.” 

You’re not at all thankful for him asking, but he’s nice enough, and it feels like the polite way to keep the status quo. 

“That’s a shame,” He admits, his smile dropping almost entirely, “are you sure I can’t convince you to give me just one chance? I really do like you, y/n,” 

“I’m sure,” That should be firm enough. 

“I thought we were getting along well,” He cuts off the end of your words, “becoming friends.” 

“I thought so too,” You straighten up off the wall behind you, tossing your towel over your shoulder and setting up to walk right out of the studio room if that’s what it would take to end this interaction, “I thought we were friends,” 

You can’t help but emphasize the word friends, and you watch the moment his expression drops more, annoyance flicking through his jaw. 

“I didn’t think you had such a problem seeing people you worked with,” He says pointedly. 

“Excuse me?” 

“It’s just that,” He shrugs, nodding towards you, “I didn’t think it bothered you. Considering.”

“Listen,” You lock eyes with him, “let it go. I’m trying to be nice about this, but I can be clearer. I am not interested in going out with you.” 

“You don’t have to be rude,” 

“Goodnight, Minseok,” You’re not staying for this. 

“I’m a good guy,” He says as you start towards the door, “don’t, come on just stay a second,” 

You keep walking. 

“y/n,” He says, his voice startlingly close behind you, “stay.” 

It’s like your legs stop working, an echoing strike of nerves down your spine and you stumble slightly as his hand closes around your wrist. 

“Let go of me.” You start to turn towards him, pulling your arm back as you do, but he speaks again. 

“Stop.” His voice is so low suddenly, situated smack in the center of his chest, a tenor you’ve never heard from him before. Your legs stop working all together, suddenly feeling like lead.

“Take your hands off me.” You blink hard, your head feeling a little full suddenly. 

“I just don’t understand,” He bites, “we’ve been flirting for weeks.” 

You can’t find the words to tell him that you being nice isn't flirting, but you’re stunned into silence. You can barely even think of a time when you had a sustained conversation with him where someone else wasn’t present. How could interactions that felt so routine to you feel so significant for him? 

“And you’re just… not interested?” He scoffs, “You’re what, twenty-six? Twenty-seven? You’re going to start running out of good offers.” 

So many things about Seo Minseok fall into place with just those words. The way that just a few weeks ago he barely looked at you, barely spoke to you. Always spending his attention on the alphas in the room around you, but never you. How when that tide shifted you thought, maybe naively, that he was just shy. But he’s not shy, not in the least. He’s just another alpha in a long line of alphas who look down their noses at omegas until there’s something they want from them. 

“That’s really none of your concern,” You shake your head, “now get the fuck off me.” 

“Be quiet.” His jaw sets hard. 

So does yours. 

A thousand thoughts run through your brain like a wildfire eating up a hillside of dry bark but nothing can make it past your lips. The tone of his voice has you rooted to the spot, his instructions not suggestions but strict commands. It’s been a long time since you’ve heard an alpha use tone, but it’s certainly the first time it’s been directed at you. You’ve heard stories, the way the primal omega brain surfaces even when you don’t want it to. You thought it was a bit of an overstatement, but now on the receiving end you can’t control your response to him and fear floods you. 

“You talk a lot for an unmated omega,” He looks disappointed. 

Something shrinks inside you. 

His fingers tighten, his body suddenly closer, “But we can fix that.” 

In a breath his hands push you backwards, your back suddenly cold against the mirrored wall of the practice room. Later, much later, you’ll discover that the reason your memory of this moment is patchy is a combination of your omega’s response to alpha tone and full dissociation. You’ll remember little pieces, quick sensations here and there. The same song still looping through the stereo, the sound of his deep inhale with his face pressed against your throat, the sharp pin pricks of his teeth as he seeks out the soft juncture of your neck and shoulder. The way your mind in one heaving breath both screams in rebellion and folds open in acceptance when he successfully locates your gland. 

You suddenly can’t hear right, can’t think right. All you know is his teeth. The hot feeling of breath. He smells like burnt, bitter oranges. He’s talking again, saying something that your conscious mind can’t register, but your omega does, and you stretch your neck long to give him the access he needs. 

And then you’re under. 

You’re dropping before you consciously register your brain entering a new, hazy middle space. It feels like being at the bottom of a deep pool, the sudden, immersive quiet. You understand that someone is talking to you, or around you, but all you can hear is the echoing tenor of an alpha, the words unclear, all cocooned in the water around you. 

There’s a bang somewhere but it feels far away, and you feel pin pricks against your throat. 

Minseok’s overwhelming acrid scent and heavy pressure against you is gone, the sudden loss of his weight leaving you off balance. You think you’re falling, or maybe you’ve already fallen. The world feels tilted, something hard and cold under your back. You smell something sharp and tangy, and there’s something loud in the room but you can’t understand it. Everything is white, bright and intrusive. 

Mingi’s face swims into your vision, and you feel his hands on your cheeks. It takes you a minute to understand anything, but he looks upset, stricken and his cheeks are tinged pink with panicked anger. You want to reach up, soothe his brow and see what’s wrong, but you can’t lift your hand. Don’t move an inch. 

“Jesus,” Mingi glances to his side, “he put her in subspace,” 

Someone responds, but it’s muffled to your ears. 

Mingi’s face darkens entirely, his hands leave you, “I’ll fucking kill him,” 

He’s gone. There’s a scuffle to your side, but you can’t turn your head, you want to, you just can’t. Tears bubble in your eyes, emotion pulsing through you and your breath is tight and thready in your throat. A sharp, whining sob bubbles from your lips. 

Warm rain swims through you, and Yunho’s there, sliding right into the spot Mingi left. His eyes dart over your face and then he looks to his side, his voice firm, “Calm down or get out of here, do you understand me? You’re scaring her,” 

There’s a long beat, noises to your side again but you can’t understand it. Your stomach flips nervously, the place you’re stuck in your head throbbing a sharp spike through your brain. 

Yunho’s warm, brown eyes settle back on yours, his face calm and easy, “Can you hear me, y/n?” 

You can, but you can’t make your mouth work. Don’t move an inch. 

“Can you hear me? y/n?” He asks again, his thumb brushing your cheek, “You’re safe, he’s not going to touch you again,” 

The hard feeling of Minseok’s hands on your hips pushing you into the practice room mirror snaps inside you and you release a soft sound. 

“You can hear me,” Yunho nods, “come on, wake up,” 

“Yunho,” Mingi’s voice is close again, hard and steady, “that’s not going to work,” 

“Why?” Yunho looks up to his friend, “she can hear me, she’s okay,” 

“She’s in subspace,” Mingi pushes his friend to the side, coming into your eye line, “she’s dropped so far under it’s going to take more than that,” 

“W-what do we do?” Yunho’s voice is shaky. 

“Let me try something,” Mingi murmurs, and then his eyes lock squarely on yours. 

Yunho slips his hand into yours, holding you tightly, but you can’t squeeze him back. 

“Omega,” Mingi’s voice is firm, and it’s the clearest thing you’ve heard since sinking under the water, “Come up now.” 

Don’t move an inch.

“You need to come up now,” His fingers tighten on your cheek, “listen to me.” 

Don’t move an inch. 

“Why isn’t this working?” Yunho asks, squeezing your fingers. 

“I’m not sure,” Mingi’s voice is low, and then he shifts closer to your face, “y/n. Omega. Listen to me now,” 

All you can do is manage to make a quiet, tight noise, and even to your muddled brain you can hear the tenor of distress. 

“Come up now,” Mingi repeats, “right now. Listen to me, omega.” 

You’re being torn in two, your primal brain fighting you every step of the way. 

He swallows hard, his voice dropping low in his chest, “Don’t disobey your alpha,”

Suddenly nothing but his voice exists. 

Mingi’s expression is cold, tight and ruthless, his rich tone cuts straight to your core, “When you’re given a directive, you follow it. Now,” He locks his hands on either side of your face and his next words are a pointed and perfectly clear command, “Come. Up.”  

The room is so much louder than you thought a moment ago. There’s shouting outside and you vaguely register San’s voice amongst the mix. The music from practice is still on low. Yunho’s leg is bouncing nervously, the athletic fabric making a rhythmic swish with every bob of his knee. You can hear your blood rushing in your ears. 

“I’m sorry,” You choke out, the first feeling that floods back into your body is intense shame.

“Oh my god,” Mingi’s expression crumbles and he pulls your limp body into his arms “you’re here? You’re with us?”

“M-Mingi,” Your vision clouds with tears again and every feeling that tried to course through your body while you were in subdrop crashes into you sideways.

“Shh,” He rocks you in his arms, “we’ve got you, we’re right here, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”

A dull throb radiates through your skull and Yunho takes a sharp inhale, “She’s bleeding,”

“What?” Mingi pulls back, his hand searching your body.

“Here,” Yunho brushes the back of your hair, his fingers coming away with a small line of blood, “it’s not too bad,”

“What happened?” You reach for the cut at the back of your head, nervous tears coming up as you try to understand.

“You don’t remember?” Yunho asks.

“I’m,” You swallow hard, “it was practice? Or I was practicing? I had the room booked.”

“Yeah,” Yunho nods and squeezes your hand, “what else?”

The date. The hard set of Minseok’s jaw when you said no. His hands on your hips, his lips on your neck, the soft drag of his teeth and the flat of his tongue over your gland. Your shirt tearing when he hauled you up against the mirrors. Hands everywhere. Hands nowhere. The white ceiling. His voice, harsh and direct in your ears, the alpha tone unmistakable. Submit. Heel. Don’t move an inch. 

Your mouth is suddenly hot and watery, and your hands are shaking, “I’m… I’m going to be sick,”

“Shit,” Yunho moves fast, sliding across the floor to grab the wastebasket that sits under the desk, pushing it into your hands. 

You wretch instantly, shaking and heaving, losing the contents of your stomach into the plastic bin. 

“Okay,” Mingi soothes, gathering up your hair into one hand and holding it away from your face, “you’re okay,”

“He touched me,” Your hands won’t stop shaking, his voice flooding back, and you heave again, “the things he said,”

“Shh,” Yunho shifts closer, rubbing a hand up and down your back, “you’re safe. None of that is true,” 

“He talked to me like a dog,” You sob, “and I couldn’t move, he told me not to move and I just let him,”

“No.” Mingi’s voice is harsh and you twitch under his hands, “He used alpha tone on you, he wanted you to stop fighting and he said it in tone until you couldn’t hear anything else. You didn’t let him do anything,” 

“I’ve never,” You wretch again, a dry heave with nothing to give and it makes your eyes watery. 

“We’re right here,” Yunho murmurs, “you’re safe.”

When you’re sure your stomach will hold, you push the wastebasket away and drop back to the floor, your head throbbing, “I’ve never been in subspace,”

“You’re not there now,” Mingi soothes.

“I don’t remember,” You manage, looking down at your mussed clothes, “it’s so muddled I can’t remember,”

“What can’t you remember?” Yunho asks softly.

You’re pretty sure you’d register it if his attempt at claiming had been successful, if the word attempt should even be in consideration at all, but the end is so fuzzy you just have to know. “Did he… did we?”

“No.” Yunho’s firm, sliding in front of you so he can make you look into his eyes, “absolutely not,”

Your mouth tastes terrible, but it’s the overwhelming bitter smell of him on you that doubles it and makes you want to throw up again even though your stomach is empty. 

“All I can smell is him,” You scrub your hands under your eyes to wipe away tears, “I can’t even breathe,”

“Take her,” Mingi says, “I’m getting water,”

Yunho pulls you into his arms, sitting back against the mirrored wall for some support and cradling you to his chest, “Come here, is this okay?” 

“Make it go away,” You hold onto his shirt and sigh into his neck, “please, Yunho, please,”

“Just breathe,” He soothes you, “I have you,” 

He smooths his thumbs over the glands in your wrists, easing the initial panic inside you, and then gently draws your head back with his hand, “It’s only me,” He murmurs, “you know I’d never hurt you,” 

Yunho licks a long stripe up your neck, and instantly your body starts to release, tense muscles unlocking and your fingers falling slack. His scent washes over you, enveloping you tenderly. 

“Y-Yunho,” you shudder as he licks another long stripe, moving to suck softly on the fleshy part of your neck that narrowly avoided teeth marks.

“Yes?” He kisses your neck softly, and licks again. 

“Thank you for coming for me,” You exhale slowly.

He stills, sinking closer and resting his closed lips on your shoulder. When he breathes in you hear the catch of emotion, “I thought we were too late,”

“I’m okay,” You murmur, and it’s starting to feel true now that he’s washing away Minseok’s scent.

“God,” He sighs into your skin, “when I heard you scream… I’ve never heard anything that terrifying in my life, I’ve never run so fast,”

“Did I scream?” You don’t remember it.

“Bloody murder,” He nods, pulling back to look at your eyes.

“Yunho,” Your eyes flick up towards the open door of the practice studio, “where is he?”

His hands tighten on you, “Probably nursing his broken ribs. The guys have him,”

Your eyes widen, and the realization that he’s still under the same roof has you trembling in his arms, “He’s still here,”

“Not for long,” He murmurs, “we called the police,”

“But,” Your mind is spinning and you feel the weight of him on your chest once more, “what if he comes back?”

“y/n,” Yunho draws your eyes away from the door, “San and Seonghwa have him, and he’s in rough shape. He’s probably focused on trying to breathe, not thinking about you anymore. And even if none of that were true and he did come back,” he says, “I’d put him on the floor faster than you could blink. Mingi and I both would.”

Your muscles start to relax again, “Okay,”

“You are completely safe,”

Mingi reappears a few moments later, bottles of water in hand, and he smiles warmly, “Hey, you,”

“Hey,”

“Feeling a little better?” He asks, settling on the hard practice room floor and passing you an open bottle.

“I don’t know,” You murmur honestly, shifting in Yunho’s arms so that you’re resting on his lap with your back against his chest. You take a long drink of water and sigh. 

“Listen,” Mingi smooths a hand across your thigh, “the police are going to want to talk to you. They’ll be here within the hour and then we’ll go to the hospital.”

“Why?” You tense.

“Your head,” He nods.

“It’s stopped bleeding,” Yunho assures you, “but he’s right, you could have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion,”

“I didn’t realize you had a medical degree,” Mingi says, a little edge to his voice.

Hot tears well in your eyes at his tone, and you shrink back into Yunho’s arms. You know rationally he didn’t mean to scare you, he’s just worried about you, but after the day you’ve had you can’t help but shrink back in fear.  

“Hey,” Yunho presses his lips to your neck, “it’s alright, Mingi didn’t mean it like that”

Mingi’s eyes blow wide, “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything,”

“I know,” You tip your head to the side to offer more of your throat to Yunho’s soothing touches, “I’m just not myself,”

“It’s okay,” Yunho says again, returning to your neck and peppering kisses across your gland, and something about this should feel intimate and awkward when you haven’t talked to them yet, but all you can feel is safe.

“Really,” Mingi reaches for you, but doesn’t touch you, “I just want you to let us help, and I’m so angry with Minseok I could kill him, but I didn’t mean to put that on you,”

“Mingi,” You take his outstretched hand, “I’m okay, you just startled me, and you’re right anyways. I’ll come to the hospital,”

He sighs in relief.

“After,” Yunho murmurs, “would you - I mean, will you please come home with us tonight?”

It’s strange how much you feel like it is home, despite only spending your heat there, months ago, so long ago now you shouldn’t still feel this preternatural pull. 

“I don’t know,” You say, even though your body is begging you to agree, to stay with them and only them. 

“I know it’s been different between us,” He murmurs, arms tightening around you, “but you know how I feel. I just don’t want you to be alone tonight, someone should be with you,” 

“Someone you feel safe with,” Mingi adds, “if that’s us,” 

“It is,” You lock your hand down on Mingi’s, “I’m sorry, this is… of course you’re safe, of course you are. I’m just,” 

“Let’s talk about this later,” Mingi smiles, shooting a look at Yunho you can’t quite make sense of, but brushing your fears to the side all the same, “for now, let’s just get you taken care of.” 

You shudder out a breath, letting the warmth and safety of their bodies sink into you. You turn into Yunho, resting your cheek on his chest and matching your breath in time to his. Your thoughts spin, bubbling over as threads of the incident come back to your mind and you press your eyes closed before the question slips out, “Why did he do it?” 

Yunho wraps his arms around you a little tighter, dropping his lips to your hair, “I don’t know,” 

Mingi clears his throat, “He’s about to hit his rut,” he says, “that’s what his excuse was. He said he’s… he kept saying how sorry he was, but,” 

Your eyes snap open, “Sorry? He’s sorry?” 

“Sorry someone interrupted him, maybe,” Mingi’s voice is hard, his eyes firm and unrelenting, “a rut doesn’t make you do that. Not like that.” 

Yunho shakes his head in agreement, “Definitely not,” 

You know that, of course you know it, but after seeing Minseok’s black eyes you’re not so sure. You had never felt completely comfortable with him, but in the past you would have chalked that up to personality differences, and in the past few weeks that had all started to change. He was the kind of guy you wouldn’t date, but you wouldn’t worry about bothering you. 

You sigh softly, “He didn’t seem like himself,” 

“Mm,” Mingi hums, non-committal. 

“A rut doesn’t make it impossible to hear the word no,” Yunho says firmly, “you don’t become some mindless animal. What he tried to do… that’s… a rut’s an easy excuse.” 

You tense up in his arms, a brief flicker of what could have been. His teeth in your neck, your mind spinning into submission. 

“Yunho,” Mingi shakes his head at his best friend, glancing down at you to indicate that it’s not something you can hear right now. 

“I’m sorry,” Yunho soothes, holding you closer if it’s at all possible. 

Your chest tightens, “Can I… I need to get up,” 

His arms relax immediately, hands shifting under your elbows to help support you while Mingi jumps up and offers you his hands to pull you up. Back on your own two feet you waver a minute, but you shake off the dizzy spell and try to get your bearings again. They're waiting on a razor’s edge, hands out and ready to intervene, but you’ve made it clear that for the moment you don’t want to be touched. 

A shout from the hall leaves you jumping, but you register Wooyoung’s voice a moment later, “Where is she?” 

“The studio,” San’s voice replies, “slow down,” 

“Is he in the back office? Give me a fucking minute alone with him,” Wooyoung’s voice is murderous and you smile at how ready your best friend sounds to do battle on your behalf, “I’ll show him what an omega can fucking do,” 

“Youngie,” San’s voice is even and warm, keeping things soft, “you need to calm down,” 

“Calm down,” He scoffs, his voice getting closer as he travels down the hall and you know he’s almost at the door. 

“I hardly think y/n needs,” San starts to say, but then they round the corner. 

Wooyoung’s eyes are wild, searching and terrified, and something inside you shatters. San’s words die on his lips when he sees you, and in a startling moment of clarity you rush forwards and into Wooyoung’s arms. 

“Shh, shh,” He wraps you up tight, one hand at the back of your head as he rocks you back and forth, “you’re safe, you’re in one piece,” 

“Woo,” Tears come fast, and you bury your face in his chest. 

“Stupid fucking alphas,” He curses into your shoulder and you can hear his breath hitched and clouded with tears of his own, “acting like they can take whatever they want,” 

You’re sure the rest of the room is bristling at that comment but you couldn’t care less. 

“You want me to break the rest of his ribs?” He kisses your head, “I’ll make it look like a fucking accident, I swear to God,” 

“Woo,” You laugh into his chest, vision blurry with unshed tears, “stop, that’s insane,” 

“I am nothing if not a little insane,” Wooyoung squeezes you, “and you and me? We protect each other, right?” 

“Always,” You grip the back of his shirt like a lifeline. 

The bond between omegas can’t be understood by a single other person in the room, maybe even in the building. You cling to each other in the middle of the studio floor, encased in this moment of shared grief. Of what you are and what that means. He shifts you in his arms so he can look at your face, cupping your tear stained cheeks. 

The sight of his own tears makes yours come faster, “What did I do?” 

His expression hardens and he shakes his head, sucking in a harsh breath, “Nothing, not a single fucking thing. Do you hear me?” 

“Woo,” You want him to let you go. You want him to tug you close again. 

He shakes your shoulders hard, and in your periphery you see Mingi take a half step forward as Wooyoung pushes back on your words, “You didn’t do anything. You’re existing, and he tried to take advantage of that. This isn’t your fault, there’s nothing you could have or should have done.” 

You open your mouth to say something but he plows forward. 

“Alphas take, alright?” He shakes you again, more gently this time, “We’re lucky. You and me, we found good ones, but alphas are programmed to take, and we’re programmed to give. He used it against you. Nothing else.”

Your breath hitches, and you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him cradle you again. 

“Shh, shh,” He rubs your back, soothing you again. 

“I hate this,” You manage, your face buried in his shoulder. 

“I know,” He eases you, “I fucking hate it too,” 

You hold each other a little longer until both of your tears start to subside. You stay steady in his grip, his fresh salt and cotton scent lulling you into safety. The buzzing of your brain starts to release, and the fear is still there under your skin but at least for now it’s low and letting you breathe. 

Nuzzling into his shoulder you sigh, “What are you doing back here anyways?” 

“San called,” He kisses your hair, “I broke several laws getting here,” 

You laugh against his collarbone where his oversized t-shirt is pulled down, no doubt from the way your hands grip whatever part of him you can. 

He rubs a warm hand up and down your back and when he speaks again it’s not to you, this time he addresses the alphas in the room. He clears his throat softly, head lifting up and away from yours, “So, who busted his nose?” 

“Uh,” Yunho makes a small sound behind you, “that would be me,” 

“Good,” Wooyoung says, “when she stops crying I’m giving you a handshake,” 

You smile against his damp skin and shake your head, “I’m not crying, I’m fine,” 

“Sure,” Wooyoung murmurs, but he doesn’t let you go, just strokes your back more until you settle further into him. 

“The police will be here soon,” San murmurs, his voice staying relaxed and steady to make sure everything stays level in the room. 

“Right,” Wooyoung sighs, “y/n, can I let you go? I don't have to if you’re not ready,” 

You nod immediately though, unwinding your arms from him and taking a ginger step back. He gives you a soft smile, and you scrub the last of the tears from your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt. He gives you a minute to stand steady and then turns to Yunho and Mingi who both look frozen and unsure of what to do or what to say. 

“You both got him off her?” He says, matter of fact. 

“Yeah,” Mingi’s voice is tight, like he had been choking back tears of his own, and Yunho simply nods. 

“Thank you,” Wooyoung tugs Mingi into a hug and squeezes him tight before shifting to Yunho to hug him too, “seriously,” 

Once they break apart, you’re left all in a haphazard circle, and you can feel all the eyes on you. It makes you so tired, dizzy, ready to be done and just crawl under a blanket for the rest of the week. In the back of your throat you still taste bitter orange. 

“Um,” Your voice comes out a little more scratchy than you want, and you clear your throat, letting everything fade. 

“What is it?” Yunho asks gently. 

You don’t know how to ask this, how to beg them to keep holding you together so you can just get through existing in this room. You sigh, the deep exhale making you dizzy again, and step towards him, “C-can I,” 

He opens his arms immediately, letting you close the space so he doesn’t assume your needs, but as you collide with him again he responds perfectly, scooping you up into his arms and letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He supports you with ease, an arm under your thighs and another situated high on your back. 

“Better?” He murmurs, smiling a little as you bury your head in his neck. 

You nod into his neck, and then you allow yourself one tiny moment of weakness, listening to your body and what it needs for once over your anxiety. You mumble it into his neck, but he hears you when you say, “Yunho?” 

“Yeah, baby?” His voice is so soft, quiet like he’s afraid of what you might say. 

You don’t miss the way Wooyoung’s eyebrows go high at the endearment, but you ignore him and focus instead on the man holding you up, together, in one solid piece. You lift your head so he hears you clearly, “Will you please take me home?” 

He goes still and turns his head just a little, “Your apartment or,” 

“Take me home with you,” You repeat, “I want to go home,” 

This will surely just make everything more muddled and foggy between the three of you tomorrow in the cold light of day, but you don’t care. Right now you just want to be home, in whatever form that means. 

He exhales low and shaky, “Alright,” he murmurs, kissing your throat softly to help calm your trembling, “I’ve got you, let’s go home,” 

A warm wide palm rests on the center of your back, and Mingi leans in close to catch your eyes, “y/n, can you look at me a second?” 

You pull your head up from the crook of Yunho’s neck where you’ve just been taking deep steady inhales of wet earth and meet his eyes. 

“Hey,” He smiles. 

Your eyes dart between him and Wooyoung, who seems suddenly ancy. “What?” You straighten up a little more in Yunho’s arms. 

“You can go wherever you want,” He starts off, “but do you want us to take you home, or would you feel more comfortable with Wooyoung? Or… Seonghwa, if… if that would be better for how you’re feeling,” 

Yunho tenses a little, his fingers tightening where he holds you, and you can feel him physically holding himself back from saying a single word, from begging you to come with them. 

You’ve made up your mind though, and within a second you’re shaking your head, “No, I want you,” 

Yunho relaxes, his lips returning to your throat and you sigh. 

“Then you have us,” Mingi assures you. 

The sound of the elevators in the hall stop you all cold though, and San holds up his hands, “I’ll go see, it’s probably the police,” 

The idea of talking to them suddenly makes you sick, and you’re sure it shows all over your face. 

“It’s going to be fine,” Wooyoung jumps back in, “don’t worry, we’ll be there the whole time.” 

You need this to be done. You grip down on Yunho’s shoulders, “I want to go home,” 

“I know,” Mingi nods. 

“Y-Yunho,” You’re scrambling a little in his arms, sudden panic swirling in your gut, and you twist to find his eyes, “please, get me out of here, please take me home,” 

You feel it the minute he chooses you over anything else, “Okay, alright,” 

“You need to talk to the cops,” Wooyoung shakes his head, trying to reason with you. 

You’re trembling in Yunho’s arms and he shakes his head, “She needs to go,” 

Mingi senses your heightened emotions too and you feel it when he moves closer, both of them shifting to protect you, “She can do this later,” 

“I don’t know that that’s such a good idea,” Wooyoung insists. 

“I couldn’t give a fuck,” Yunho grips you tighter, “we’re taking our girl home,” 

“Your-” Wooyoung scoffs when he hears the words, “fucking alphas,” 

“Who she wants to take her home,” Mingi points out, a distinct edge to his voice. 

“Stop arguing,” You beg them, hanging onto Yunho’s shoulders, “please, please,” 

“Fuck,” Yunho relaxes, stroking your back, “I’m sorry, of course we won’t, I’m sorry,” 

Mingi brushes his hand over the back of your head and Wooyoung gives you an apologetic face, his defensiveness over you is understandable, but he also knows how you feel about these men and you watch him choose to hold his tongue. 

A knock on the door brings you all back to the present, San handling the situation with more grace than any of you combined, “The police said that they can speak with you at the hospital and make it brief.” 

You exhale heavily and nod against Yunho, “Okay, fine,” 

“Are you sure?” Mingi strokes your cheek. 

“I just want to be done,” 

“Should we stay with you?” Yunho murmurs. 

“Please,” You grip his shoulders. 

“Alright,” He sighs, “Woo, could you… I’m sorry, can you grab her things? Let’s just try to make this quick for her,” 

Wooyoung clears his throat, his eyes never leaving yours, “Yeah, I got it,” 

“Uh,” San interrupts as you all try to gather your things, “Yunho, they want to talk to you first, they’re waiting in the back office,” 

“Oh,” 

“They have some questions,” San explains quietly, “but she she doesn’t need to be there for that,” 

“Right,” Yunho nods and then presses a kiss to your hair, “can I put you down, sweetheart?” 

Your chest warms. 

“No, here,” Mingi cuts in, his hand sweeping over your back and you feel them shift you from Yunho’s arms to his, “come here,” 

He settles you against his chest and you wrap around him just the same, soaking in the warm scent of cocoa and cinnamon. You let your eyes drift shut as you rest on his shoulder, “Hey, Mingi,” 

“Hey,” He says softly. 

“Thank you,” You sigh. 

“Mhm,” He rocks you a little as he takes your bags from Wooyoung and slings them over his shoulder, the combined weight of it and you not fazing him at all, “I told you once I’ll always be here, I meant it,” 

“I believe you,” You murmur into his throat. 

You rest here, Mingi’s thumb rubbing a comforting line over the back of your neck. 

“Time to go,” Wooyoung’s voice pipes back in, “there’s a car ready, Yunho will be there in a a few minutes,” 

“Alright,” Mingi presses a soft kiss to your hair, “here we go,” 

He carries you with ease, and you sink into the steady thump of his heart under your palm that’s keeping you grounded. Over his shoulder you watch Wooyoung walking with you and you see police officers down the hall. The door to the back office swings open and Yunho is leaning against the desk as he speaks with an officer. Seonghwa sits in a chair next to him, his head in his hands, blood coating his knuckles and the sleeves of his shirt. Something pulls in your gut, begging you to go to him, but then you’re outside and all you can feel is Mingi holding you as he ferries you into the car. 

“Do you need anything?” He asks as he settles you into the passenger seat 

“I don’t know,” You tell him honestly, letting your head drop back against the seat and taking a deep breath, eyes slipping closed. 

“Don’t fall asleep,” Wooyoung jumps forward, “keep your eyes open,” 

“I’m fine,” You tell him, but you still do what he asks. 

“Just in case,” Wooyoung presses, “you shouldn’t fuck with head injuries,” 

“He’s right,” Mingi murmurs, crouching next to you just outside the car, “and I’m sure you’re fine, but let’s just be sure, okay?” 

“Okay,” 

  A noise just past the two of them makes you jump. 

“It’s just Sannie,” Wooyoung assures you. 

You nod and Mingi takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. 

“Yunho’s almost done,” San announces, but he hurries to the car and leans in to check you, “doing okay?” 

“Yeah,” 

“Can you do something for me?” He cups your cheek to bring your eyes up to his. 

“Mhm,” You nod again. 

“I need you to just focus on us for a minute,” He moves to crouch next to Mingi, and then Wooyoung steps closer too, blocking out some of your peripheral vision. 

“Why?” You fight the urge to turn around. 

Red and blue lights flash in the car mirrors and you reflexively glance up at the rear view mirror, catching sight of an ambulance, and tension fills your stomach. 

San reaches up and catches your face again, “Hey, look at me,” 

You pull your eyes away, “Are they here for him?” 

“Yes,” San nods.

“Is he badly hurt?” Your mouth feels dry. 

There’s a pause and then Wooyoung sighs, “Don’t lie to her,” 

Mingi clears his throat softly, “He’s pretty busted up,” 

“Good,” You breathe. 

San smiles, taking your other hand in his and smoothing his thumb over your knuckles. The sound of the doors catches your attention again, and you resist the urge to turn around once again. San shakes his head a little, “Just keep looking at us,” 

“He really picked the wrong person to fuck with,” Wooyoung says, his hand resting warmly on your shoulder. 

An image of Seonghwa and his bloody knuckles flashes through your mind and your breath quickens, “Is Hwa okay?” 

Mingi’s brows draw together. 

“He’s fine,” San assures you immediately. 

“I saw blood,” You can’t articulate it exactly, the image is just static in your mind. 

“It’s not his blood,” San promises, “we’re all fine, Seonghwa is fine,” 

The sound of the ambulance doors swinging shut makes you jump. 

“Shh,” Mingi squeezes your hand, “you’re safe, you’re with me,” 

Everything in your body feels tense and stretched thin, but Mingi’s hand is solid in yours and you grip down on it, letting it tether you. 

You listen as the ambulance pulls away, your muscles unclenching one by one as the sound of the vehicle fades. 

“Woo,” You manage, “can you check on Hwa for me? And text me?” 

“Yeah,” He assures you, “I got you,” 

“Take a deep breath,” Mingi instructs you, “please, for me,” 

You take a long inhale and meet his eyes and he nods as you let the breath out low and slow through your nose. 

“Again, please,” He nods. 

You breathe again, the same steady pace, “I’m tired,” 

“It’s the adrenaline wearing off,” Mingi tells you, “but as soon as a doctor says you can sleep, you can rest,” 

“Okay,” You nod. 

San’s hand disconnects from yours and he starts to stand, “Yunho’s done,” 

You twist in your seat to see him, Wooyoung stepping out of the way, and you can see Yunho jogging towards the car, “Everything okay?” 

“Mhm,” Mingi keeps himself calm for you. 

“That took forever,” He says, “I’m sorry,” 

“It didn’t,” You shake your head, “don’t be sorry,” 

“You should go,” Wooyoung interrupts, “get her looked at,” 

You find your best friend’s eyes, “You’ll text me?” 

“Of course I will,” He nods, “but right now just focus on yourself. We’re all okay,” 

You nod, and your eyes feel heavy again already. You know they’ll be trying to keep you awake in the car at this rate. 

“Let’s go,” Mingi nods, “can I have my hand back for a minute?” He smiles at you. 

“Sorry,” You drop his hand, almost embarrassed at the way you’re clinging to him. 

“Go,” San ushers Yunho towards the driver’s side, “if you need anything, we’re here,” 

Before you know it everyone’s moving and your car door is shut. Yunho slides into the driver’s seat to your left and Mingi moves into the backseat behind you. 

You meet Wooyoung’s eyes through the window and he rests a hand over his chest. He mouths a simple message - I love you, okay?

You nod and the car starts to move, but you know he knows you love him too. 

Mingi shifts forwards in his seat as Yunho starts to drive, and his long arm reaches around to find your hand again. He laces your fingers together once and this time he doesn’t let go. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Later that night, the warm, rich scent of their apartment almost takes you out at the knees when you finally cross the threshold, so overwhelmingly comforting and enveloping that you want nothing more than to bury yourself inside the feeling for days. Mingi nearly runs into your back when you stop short in the entryway and Yunho’s watching you carefully as he hangs up your jackets. 

“What?” Mingi nudges you gently. 

There’s a million things to say. Things left unsaid after your last conversation, that fight you wish you could forget. The letter. All the things you were planning on confessing Saturday. The way you want so badly to erase today and just be with them. Every ounce of their soothing physicality after Minseok brings all your emotions up tenfold. Their tenderness almost chokes you. All the things you want to say are stuck in your throat. You need to get your head on straight. You need sleep. 

“Hey,” Yunho waves a hand in front of your dazed expression, “are you alright?” 

Not really. The hospital was long and awkward, seeing a glimpse of Minseok’s name on a hospital room door even worse, and the police had so many questions that all sounded fairly judgemental. Not to mention the probing questions from the hospital staff about your cycle and if you’re close to pre-heat. As if that matters at all. You settle for something a little less dire though, “I’m fine, sorry, it’s just been a while,” 

Yunho’s ears darken to a deep shade of pink and he nods. 

“You can sleep in my room,” Mingi offers, “like before. We can stay or not stay, it’s up to you.” 

“I’d like to be alone,” You tell them, “if that’s alright,” 

“Of course,” Mingi smooths a hand down your arm, “whatever you want.” 

“Um,” You sigh heavily, “honestly I’m exhausted. I think I might just shower and sleep as long as you don’t mind,” 

Yunho shakes his head, gesturing towards the hall, “Not at all, just… call if you need anything,” 

You start back towards the bathroom, your eyes down and away from them, but Mingi calls out, “You remember where everything is?” 

There’s no way you could forget, and you call back that you’re fine. You got it. You just need to be alone, alone is good, alone feels safe. 

In the shower you scrub your skin raw, spending extra time and attention on your glands even though it makes your skin there puffy and red, pinpricks of blood at the surface of your skin and lilac bruises surrounding every edge. It doesn’t matter how comforting their scents are, nothing is taking away the deep intent of Minseok’s mouth on your neck - and the bitter, burnt citrus smell takes ages to wash away. By the time you finish, you’re about ready to collapse. 

Mingi leaves you clothes again, folded neatly on his bed and ready for you. They’re nowhere to be seen, taking your plea for time alone seriously. He’s laid out a clean pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt, both fresh from the wash. The hoodie you had stolen during your heat lies next to it, and it’s a kind gesture, but suddenly you don’t want it. You want nothing. 

You toss the hoodie to the side and start to climb into the bed, but that smells so heavily of cinnamon spice that you can’t think straight. You had just gotten used to blissfully smelling nothing after your shower, and so you strip the bed entirely, discarding all of the pillows and blankets and sheets into the farthest corner of the room. 

The mattress is bare now, but once you turn the circulating fan off you fix the issue of the cold and his scent washing over you every time you try to close your eyes. You can still sense him, sense them, somewhere in the background, but here on the stripped bed in sterilized clothes with your skin rubbed raw, you can rest. 

You drift into sleep this way, your head clear. 

It doesn’t stay that way for long. 

You’re not sure how long you’re asleep before you wake in abject terror, but it must be at least a couple of hours with the sky outside pitch dark and the apartment completely quiet around you. It’s obvious you’re the only one awake, but your brain can’t quite process it right. All you feel is shaking fear and the echo of hands pressing you into the wall, fingers in your hair yanking your head to the side, teeth grazing against your throat. 

You scramble back, only to find the edge of the bed and you collapse off of it, ending up on the wood floor with your head spinning, Mingi’s bedside table lamp crashing down after you, a harsh flash of light pulsing through the room as the bulb breaks and gives one final dying flicker. 

The pleading whine that’s caught in your throat sounds like a trapped animal to your ears, the pounding of your heart threatening to break your chest, blood rushing through your ears like a train. You can’t grasp reality, everything feels hazy and disconnected. 

The door to your right bangs open, Yunho bleary and confused, but responding to your heightened state of fear within a moment. “Mingi!” He calls over his shoulder, “Mingi, get up right now,” 

There’s a faraway faint noise from the other room. 

Yunho skids to your side, careful not to touch you as he tries to meet your eyes in the dark, “Sweetheart, it’s just a nightmare.” 

Part of you knows that you’re awake, safe and home, and not trapped in subspace with a threatening hand in your hair, but you can’t quite grip back to reality. You stutter out a reply, “I-I can’t breathe,” 

“Mingi,” Yunho calls back over his shoulder again, “right now!”

“Please,” you whimper, part of your brain still lodged in the nightmare, “I can’t breathe,” Your hands cling onto the edge of the rug.

Mingi stumbles into the room now, half asleep but forced into consciousness and he’s shaking himself, catching up quickly, “What’s going on?” 

You hear him, but your body is stuck remembering and you feel like there’s a weight on your chest, pressing you down harder, “I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe,” you stutter. 

“Sweetheart,” Yunho comes closer now, his body curling around you carefully with his face directly at your side, “it’s a nightmare, you’re safe.” His arms loop around you gently, but stay open in case you need to move.

“I can’t,” you shake your head, images swimming before you. 

“You’re not there,” he tells you, “we’re home, you’re with us, me and Mingi,” 

You wheeze, trying to regulate your breath. 

“Get a light,” Yunho pleads suddenly to the dark room, and you can hear scrambling, “she can’t see where she is, get a light on.” 

Mingi trips over the discarded lamp on the floor, and fumbles back to the lightswitch on the wall near the door, searching for it with his hands but reluctant to tear his eyes away from you. Suddenly the room floods with the overhead light, a stark fluorescent glow, and the black spots across your vision start to clear.

“I have you, I have you,” Yunho repeats, holding you to him. 

Your hand searches blindly for Mingi on the other side of you and he collapses next to you both, taking your hand and moving in to cradle you from the opposite side, “Baby,” he murmurs, “look around, look where you are,” 

Yunho’s hand on your thigh grounds you, and then Mingi softly touches your jaw to draw your gaze to him, “Look at me,” 

Your eyes flick up. He looks tired, exhausted even, his hair a wayward haystack. You blink hard, “What happened to you?” 

“To me?” Mingi’s brow furrows and he glances up past you to Yunho. 

“You need sleep,” You manage. 

Mingi laughs sharply and cups your cheeks, “I’ll sleep later. Can you tell me where you are?” 

“Your place,” You manage, and you feel the nightmare receding back into your mind inch by precious inch, your breath steadying out. 

“Yeah,” He sighs, “Yeah, that’s right,” 

“I’m home with you,” You repeat, your fingers sinking into the plush rug beneath you. 

Yunho swallows hard, fixated on the way you’ve called their apartment home, not their home, for the third time tonight. You watch the flicker of recognition in his eyes, but he lets it pass and so do you. 

Tears well up in your eyes again and you sigh, “I’m sorry about your lamp,” 

“What?” Mingi’s brow furrows, “Who cares about that?” 

“Still,” You manage, “I’m such a mess right now,” 

“If you weren’t a mess I’d be more worried,” Yunho takes your hand in his, squeezing your fingers, “and you can take all the time you need to be a mess, we’re here.” 

You slump forwards onto his shoulder, “I’m… so tired,” 

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Yunho soothes, his voice soft. 

You nod, letting them both ease you up to your feet, but when they turn to the bed Mingi makes a soft, confused noise, “Where?” 

“Oh,” You gesture towards the corner where all his bedding is wrapped up in a ball, “I’m sorry I was just… it was too much,” 

Mingi’s jaw tightens, the muscles in his neck jumping as he swallows hard, and you know he’s holding down so much anger, that someone could have scared you enough that any alpha’s scent became overwhelming, that your fear might extend even to them. 

“Okay,” Yunho cuts in easily, “whatever you want,” 

He eases you back onto the mattress, but the idea that they might be gone again strikes a deep lance of panic through your stomach and you grasp his arm, “Don’t go,” 

“Are you sure?” He murmurs. 

“Please,” You insist, tugging his arm again. 

He eases down beside you, and Mingi crosses to the opposite side of the bed so he can follow suit, sidling up to your back but careful not to touch you until you make it clear that you want him to. You fold your arm underneath your head and rest yourself down, and when your hair shifts off your neck you hear Yunho’s sharp intake of breath at the sight of your tender gland. 

“Baby, what,” He reaches for you, fingertips hovering, “sweetheart, what did you do?” 

“I’m fine,” You murmur but when you feel fingers gently coast over the raw skin you hiss sharply in pain and both their hands pull back. 

“y/n,” Mingi’s voice is low, shaky, and he scoops up your arm to check your wrists, finding them as swollen and bruised, “oh my god,” 

“I know,” You murmur, letting your eyes drift shut. 

“This is not okay,” Mingi sounds pained, “you can’t hurt yourself like this,” 

“I’m okay, I promise,” 

“We could have helped,” Yunho insists, “we could have scented you again, both of us, or called Seonghwa, or something, anything,” 

“Seonghwa?” You start, but Mingi cuts you off as he pushes your hair further to the side to see more of your neck. 

He makes a tight noise with his tongue against his teeth, “These look tender, Yunho’s right,” 

“You scented me plenty,” You shake your head, letting your hair fall back into place, “but I promise, I’m okay,” 

Mingi wraps his arms around you from behind, tucking you close to his chest and dropping his head onto yours, “You’re scaring me,” he confesses into your hair. 

“I know,” You murmur, “but I wasn’t trying to hurt myself,” 

“And now?” Yunho asks softly. 

“I’m a little better,” You pull him closer, “I was overwhelmed earlier and… even you both I didn’t want, but now? I feel safer, clearer,” 

Yunho kisses your forehead, letting his lips linger as you all get your emotions back in check, “Okay,”  

“Can we stay just like this?” You nuzzle into him, pulling Mingi in closer behind you until you’re snuggled up so tight you might overheat . 

“I’ll be wherever you want,” Mingi wraps his hand around yours and tucks them into your chest.

Yunho murmurs his agreement softly and you nod, letting their heat soak into your body and releasing your tense muscles bit by bit. You were supposed to tell them how you felt already, you need to get it out in the open before things get too blurry again, but right now you have to let it go. 

Silence stretches between the three of you, their breathing even and low, and you’re not sure if they’re asleep or awake when you make your quiet plea in the dark but in a whisper you beg them to never, ever let you go again. At least for tonight, they hold you fast.

[raayllum]

bc s7 might have cute rayllum boat date and i'm no one if not booboo the fool

Callum's big surprise involves a boat of all things.

Rayla isn't sure what she expected when her dorky handsome mage had excitedly taken her hand and tugged her out here to a more secluded part of the forest with a river and everything—a picnic or private place to make out, or both, maybe—but...

The boat itself was done up very nicely, with roses and Stella waddling over to plop the Baitlings over in their place. It must've taken time and magic, as she clambers in with only a slight queasiness and Callum's hand steady in hers. It feels nice that it's so easy and natural to accept his help, after so many walls and so many years apart. That he offers it as freely as he ever has, his eyes bright when he looks at her and they lean against one side.

The river is gentle, at least, the boat moored so she isn't really getting seasick. Stella juggles adoraburrs and the Baitlings sing a tune that's pretty on key for glow toads.

"All this for me?" she only half-teases, looking at him.

Callum grins back at her, rubbing the back of his neck a bit bashfully. "Yeah, well—I knew I had to do something pretty special to get you on a boat."

"Very true," she plays along, bumping his shoulder with hers.

They stare the calm green water, a few fish swimming by the riverbed. She can feel the moment his gaze turns to her, though she doesn't meet it—this is a new part of the forest, and she wants to look around a bit longer.

"Do you remember the first time we were on a boat together?" he begins, teasing and charming.

In spite of the water then and water now, she smiles. How can she not, when it was the first day she saw him in a new light? In his truest light—sweet, attentive, understanding. "Ugh, don't remind me."

Callum scoots closer and wraps his arm fully around her shoulders. "Oh come on," he trills. "it wasn't all bad. You liked the five questions game."

Rayla snorts. "I did." Then, more ruefully, "Can't believe you remember that." His memory is amazing, but it was close to two and a half years ago—a lifetime ago—and there are spells and runes has to look up on occasion. She gave him good reason to want to bury those memories too, deep inside if not burned to a crisp. He'd kept them all instead.

A soft sigh of contentment and just a tinge of melancholy escapes her, as Rayla leans further into him. His scarf is soft against her cheek.

"Well," Callum replies, his voice a tad shy, "I never did get to ask the other three questions."

She raises her head enough to look at him, close enough their noses are nearly touching. "Oh?" Her lips twitch.

Instead of leaning in for a kiss, though, or eagerly asking a question about Xadia she'll more than oblige him for, Callum pulls back from her. Takes something out of his pocket as he moves down from the wooden plank seat in the boat to the base.

"There's kind of only one that matters, though," he continues, smiling sweetly, his eyes shining. There's a horn cuff in his hand. Rayla's heart sticks in her throat. He can't be... "Marry me?"

Moon above, he is. She covers her mouth with her hands, staring at him. "I..."

Callum shifts, a tad uncertain. "I know we're young," he amends. "And the future is uncertain. But I also know you, and I love you. You're my truth, and my path and light, and I never want to be separated from you ever again, and—whoa!"

She almost sends them capsizing from the way she tackle hugs him and knocks them both down, laughing and crying all at once. Her arms wind around his neck as Callum catches her (because he always will) and keeps one around her waist, his other hand still holding onto the engagement horn cuff; the green gemstone embedded in it matches his eyes. It's perfect.

"Gods, yes, dummy," she laughs, tears spilling over. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. "Of course I'll marry you."

[pianokantzart]

What are your hopes for the mario movie 2?

More of these two being on screen together for starters:

Their relationship was probably the best part of the first movie. Mario and Luigi really do work off each other so well, both as an effective team and an entertaining dynamic. If they carry that same energy throughout the sequel that would be fantastic.

On that note, Luigi needs to interact with the rest of the main cast. He got a quick one-sentence exchange with Peach and not a word in with anyone else, and I really want to see those friendships explored.

I'm also excited to see the world expanded upon. One area where The Super Mario Bros. Movie really excelled was the locations. They felt authentic to the games while at the same time allowing animators and designers wiggle room to exercise creativity, leading to really fresh and vibrant takes on nostalgic worlds.

And on top of new locations, there are so many characters I'd like to see introduced, but I'm also a little tentative about wanting too much too fast.

We know that we're going to get Yoshi in the sequel, and part of me wants to see The Koopalings too, though I have to admit that seven characters with their own individual personalities would be a lot juggle at once.

Another enemy that I want to see show up are the boos, partly because the sooner we get boos the sooner we might get a Luigi's Mansion Movie.

But at the same time I don't want the film to have a glut of new faces that barely get touched upon. What I really want is a slow drip-feed of characters that gradually expands upon the enormous world. But I won't deny there are so many good options with a whole lot of potential (so long as they're handled by passionate people who get the source material.)

I'm also hoping the sequel's a little longer than the first movie. Not by much, just by like... ten minutes or so, only to give things a bit more time to breathe.

[venerawrites]

thank you for feeding my Naruto brainrot 😫🫶🏻 for the prompt request: for your fav Naruto boys or girls, what are the non-negotiables (things they need to have) and the dealbreakers (will not tolerate) when they're in a relationship with their partner?

author's note: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while, so I'm really sorry for the delay. I really liked that prompt and I do hope I did it justice. I have so many favs it was hard to pick, but ultimately I decided to pick Naruto, Neji, Sasuke and Shikamaru.

Naruto

➦ Non-negotiables

Calm and rational mind - as someone who is a ball full of energy and very easily influenced by his emotions, Naruto needs a partner who is stable and able to keep calm and collected under pressure. He has enough fire and passion within him for both him and his partner, so he would need a polar opposite in order to keep him balanced. He also lacks the ability to look at situations realistically, so a more rational partner would definitely help him do that.

Affectionate - this doesn't mean he wants someone who is clinging to his arm 24/7, but rather someone who is not afraid to show affection to him either in public or private. A partner that laces their fingers with his when they notice his knee shaking nervously or embraces them in a hug after a long stressful day, is what Naruto needs after being alone for so many years.

➦ Dealbreakers

Lack of ambitions or drive - Naruto has always been full of dreams and hope. He constantly seeks to grow, not only in his power but also as a person. If he is with a partner who lacks any ambition in life, he is bound to feel stagnate at some point and that is probably his biggest nightmare. He needs someone to calm and balance his hyperactive personality, but he won't be with someone who makes his whole life dull.

No sense of humour - this may not be a dealbreaker for many people, but for Naruto it certainly is. He has always been a goofball and loves a good joke, so I can't even imagine him being with someone, who won't at least crack a smile at his attempts to cheer them up. He doesn't want to be with someone who is overly pessimistic and negative.

Neji

➦ Non-negotiables

A strong moral compass - probably the least tolerant and forgiving of all of the guys on the list, Neji needs a partner that has strong morals and values. There are certain things that are completely unjustifiable in his eyes, like betraying the people you love or killing innocent people. No matter their background or religious/political view, their partner needs to have strong principles that they follow, regardless of external pressure. For him, this is also fundamental for raising your children right.

Commitment - Neji's ideal partner would need to be someone who will commit fully to him and their family (once they have one). I always imagined him with a civilian or someone who is an ex-ninja, because he knows it is not possible to juggle both an active ninja lifestyle and taking care of the house. Even he, at some point, would start doing fewer and fewer missions, spending time and training his children instead. He would absolutely expect the same from their partner.

➦ Dealbreakers

Not wanting family/children - Neji is a very traditional guy and as such, he does want to one day have a family and be a father. He would respect his partner's decision if they decide this is not the life for them, but that would ultimately lead to the end of their relationship. This is one thing he would not change his mind about, so he has to be with someone who is on the same page.

Lack of respect - in a way connected to the dealbreaker above, he won't be with someone who doesn't respect him, his family, or his values. Due to the way he was raised, he would naturally assume the role of provider and protector - his partner better be the more submissive half, the one who nurtures, rather than fights. If they cannot respect that dynamic, they better find a more open-minded partner than Neji.

Sasuke

➦ Non-negotiables

Confidence and courage - having quite a lot of issues himself, he needs a partner who has the confidence and the courage to stand up to him. Sasuke has the tendency to do whatever he thinks is right, without really taking into consideration how that affects others. He really needs someone who will be honest about their feelings and opinions, without fearing that they will somehow offend him. He will probably huff and puff, but he secretly appreciates it when their partner has the guts to put their foot down.

Bluntness - maybe connected in a way to what I typed above, but Sasuke needs someone who speaks bluntly to him. He is also the type of person to share his thoughts openly, so he expects the same from his partner. Additionally, he is not good at getting hints, so it's better for his lover to just say straightforwardly what is bothering them, rather than tip-toe around it.

➦ Dealbreakers

Lying - Sasuke cannot tolerate liars. He has been lied to quite a lot during his life and he suffers from major trust issues. If he catches his partner even in a lie, even about something insignificant, that would be the end of the relationship. If they lie about small, they will inevitably lie about something bigger as well. Sasuke had enough with people like that.

Clinginess - that man had enough of people clinging to him. Sasuke values his personal space and alone time and he won't like a partner, that is constantly on his back and wants to spend all their time together. Like everyone, he would need some moments of loving and he would subtly hint at their partner when they need attention/love, but he would somehow have to initiate it first.

Shikamaru

➦ Non-negotiables

Empathy - an ideal partner would be able to see other people's sides, and consider their feelings and motives. Shikamaru prides himself on being open-minded and good at reading people, so he expects his partner to be the same. He forgot a date or something minor because of how stressed he is at work? He wants his partner to be able to put themselves in his shoes and maybe cut him a little bit of slack.

Likes challenges/puzzles - as someone who is so smart, Shikamaru needs intellectual challenges to keep boredom away and also stimulate his brain. His partner either has to be brave enough to challenge him on topics they do not agree on or actively seek and help him with puzzling tasks, that he can't deal alone with. Either way, their partner has to be able to think outside the box and be able to counter Shikamaru's arguments.

➦ Dealbreakers

Anger issues - now I know that may be controversial, since in the anime he is with Temari, who can be pretty fiery... but personally I feel he is not the one to really tolerate someone who gets worked up easily, shouts, and throws tantrums. Life is too short to deal with someone who can't control their temper and he constantly feels like he has to walk on eggshells around them.

Pretending to be dumb - Shikamaru is naturally attracted to intelligence. Does it feel nice to be outsmarted or corrected by their own partner sometimes? Well, no, not really. But he definitely prefers that, rather than having a partner that pretends to be dumb, just so they can appear cute or for other people to like them better.

cc artwork: Houston Sharp

[snapscube]

yo I have no idea how to phrase this (and apologies if you've addressed this because I'm behind on streams) but like. at least in my experience RPG burnout can be absolutely vicious, and you've basically been in the process of playing three or more huge, intensive RPGs for months on end at this point. four if you wanted to count the FF7 post-midgar recap. and like just as a tangent, a majority of those games are Final Fantasy 7 no matter how you slice it

and like I don't know how hard RPG burnout would hit for you - or video game burnout in general - nor would that be any of my business. but I do just want to say thank you for the streams, I love watching them as a VODhead, and your efforts and work as a streamer are hugely appreciated. whether you're hanging on for a breath of fresh air, hungry to dive into even more RPGs or just like chilling, I wanted to show some appreciation for the entertainment and because personally, I couldn't juggle RPGs the way you have been, let alone in a public fashion that comes with streaming. that's a hell of an effort imo

listen, the ADHD hyperfixation is a powerful thing LMAO

i just really love these games!!!! im catching up with so many landmark titles i missed out on because i didnt care for the genre (more accurately, subgenre) until recently!!!

i really appreciate the appreciation :) streaming RPGs has made me really happy lately, though it's definitely a struggle on the schedule at times haha. im hoping to strike a better balance in the middle of the year once the bigger titles are done and dusted (get it? :3)

[captainmera]

Mx.mera!! (No pressure take all the time you need ) when is the next tgb chapter ?? :3

It's on indefinite hold atm, dont expect updates anytime soon. I'm juggling a lot atm.

(None of this is directed at you personally. This is just my general state on working on TGB and why it is standing stale. If you're curious why it's not updating)

TGB was always meant to just be a fun side thing I did as a writing exercise. It helped me identify a lot of my writing flaws and hiccups, and also my writing style. Which has been very enlightening.

There's a lot with TGB I need to go back and edit, so I need to re-read my own work (which I've been informed is the length of two LOTR books?? Sweet jesus, I need to cut it down) before I get back to it.

My ideas have become much longer and drawn out than I wanted, the pacing is very slow (which is fine, but I wanna get to the fun parts.) Which is another problem I've identified. I'm writing book form, chapter by chapter, rather than the episodes I'm seeing in my head. And it's frustrating.

Because I see it as episodes, but write them out, the chapters get really long. And I spend a lot of time being anxious about that.

Drawing comics is easier because I don't have to describe feelings or environments. I can just show it right away.

And no, I'm not gonna draw TGB as a comic. That's too much. I tried drawing future scenes (as comics) I thought of and wanted to envision, but I got people being upset about it being spoilers. So I stopped doing that.

Actually, I got worried about anything I drew of any characters being spoilery because I'd get asks or comments about it being for TGB. I usually just delete comments or asks like that, so I don't have to see it, but reading so much of it builds up in my head, yknow?

I also got a few people (might've been just one person. They were on anon) that wouldn't stop berating me about Willow and Hunter's body types. And some people got REALLY weird and insinuated that drawing them hugging and kissing was sexual. And some people try to trick me into drawing fetish things (feederism being one).

So, in all honesty? I liked writing TGB, with all the flaws it has or not. I loved drawing Huntlow and the hexsquad; until people got 1) weird about it. 2) pushy about continuing it. 3) upset it wasn't writing fast enough or I didn't draw x, y, z.

It honestly has robbed me of all the fun to post fanart.

Which is a shame because I still like the characters a lot.

I know that if I update a chapter, I'll get a revival of people spamming me these things again, and I'm not mentally or emotionally strong r/n for any of that.

So.... I'm doing witteclaw. Because nobody is pressuring me to do anything. Not to update, not to draw x,y,z. People are just happy with whatever I put out in whatever pace I put it out in. I get to talk with people about theories about the show and discuss writing in a fun, mature, way.

I also just really like witteclaw in general. But I don't like ut more than the hex kids. There's just less demand and pressure.

Which makes hanging out in the fandom still fun.

Don't get me wrong. I love sweet huntlow, I love the noceda trio, the galactic duo are still my best boys (i miss drawing gus and hunter), and the emerald trio is my blorbos (I got so many pins and keychains u guys lol) and I love the hexsquad the most, I love soft lumity, I wanna draw more grunge Vee, Camila is best mum.

The owl house is SO much fun.

But the fandom is kind of demanding. And maybe that's my fault for having open requests. But I don't regret that, I do enjoy art requests.

But people got less polite and more demanding, and some got angry(?), and some use lingo that I understand is meant to be funny but comes across as incredibly entitled and mean spirited. Some also don't seem to understand I'm a person, and that all art takes time. I had a person once get upset that I didn't out enough effort into their request as I had into another. Which... girl, you're not paying me, sit down.

It got pretty uncomfortable. It stole the fun out of drawing similar things for people who asked nicely and enthusiastically. I also realised a lot of these people read TGB, since requests were often about that.

It wouldn't always be art requests. It would just be a straight-up request to write the next chapter already.

TGB was fun, until the pressure to prioritise it became the majority from people who followed me. and people wrote things like:

Tbf that's the only one who dared to be that public about it. But I get asks like this at least once a week, and I turned off DMs because it happened every second to third day.

It's like.... not very nice or cool, yknow? :,(

it genuinely has made me feel really sad about working on my passion project IBWR too. Because people kept making it pretty clear they were annoyed I spent time on something else than what they were following me for.

It's like, whatever I guess, but it still hurts.

TD;LR

No, no tgb anytime soon. A few people killed the party, and I need time to like it again how I used to. Without the enjoyment of creating and writing, and enjoying the process, bring robbed from me.

Thanks.

Maybe I just need thicker skin I dont know. I'm trying to find a good balance with it. People are allowed to like/dislike my work and comment on it. I don't mind critique. It's just not really been critique at all? It's just demands and that hits different on the heart.

[cougheemedicine]

Twisted Fairytales; Twisted Wonderland Fantasy!au - Prologue

Will include all main cast x GN!Reader

Summary: A nameless adventurer with an incredible amount of friends in high places. Each more infamous and conniving than the last. The things those friends are willing to do for you is only a glimpse of how a so-called "Nobody" ensnared the most powerful in the continent.

A/n: A little au I'm cooking up. Not entirely sure where this will go so I'm not going to put any warnings/specific content until I get the individual chapters out. If this goes anywhere I'll probably add Neige, Che’nya, Rollo, etc. I already have come ideas cooking up for them. Have fun, dear adventurer~ 〜(￣▽￣〜)

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

        Night Raven College. An incredibly prestigious academy, whose history goes so far back in time that only the oldest Fae of the Briar Valley can even begin to fathom the legacy that such a renowned institute holds, and whose reputation reaches even the darkest corners of the kingdom. Aristocratic families from all over the continent vie to send their children to study the art of magic in its' hallowed halls.

        You had attended such a college, once upon a time, though you are far from noble. You met the esteemed headmaster by chance one day, but you didn't know at the time. You had sold him a newspaper, and he grinned at you from under the beak of his mask and patted you on the head. He flipped a single gold coin into your shaking hands, it was the most money you had ever seen at the time. When you had turned around to thank him, more than ready to drop onto your knees and praise the dirt he walked on, he was gone. Leaving only a lone, ink-black feather in his wake.

        You can only assume he took pity on you. Some unclaimed, nameless child, too old to be taken in by an orphanage but too young to be sent off to the mines. In a village so small and far North it didn’t even have a name. The old crones of your small village would wax poetic about his benevolence and graciousness (only after they prattled on about his villainously handsome face). You couldn't even read, let alone weave illusions from incantations or summon a beast from a bubbling brew.

        But he appeared before you nonetheless, with a flurry of his feathered cape. He offered you his hand, that which dripped in gold, and swept you off to Night Raven College. Over the years he taught you everything you know now. He taught you how to paint and juggle, how to fluently read and speak every language used on the continent, even some more eccentric practices like how to identify cursed objects, how to weave certain sprigs of herbs together to create the most powerful warding charm, even which nerve to pinch to have any assailant drop unconscious instantly.

        While under the roof of Night Raven College, you met creatures from every walk of life. One could say you were popular, even. Everyone wanted to get to know the charge of the infamous headmaster Crowley. You grew close to many, some you would even call your friends. Some others, maybe more. But they led very different lives than you. Friendships fade, it's simply a way of life. Even if waving goodbye to them as they graduated and left you behind stung in a way you don't really wish to name.

        You stayed at the college longer than most. Not taking classes, simply acting as an errand runner for the headmaster as a way to repay him for guiding you to a much better path in life. But even he, past his grandeur and games, could see that you wished to spread your wings farther than the astronomy tower and botanical garden.

        With a final pat on your head, he sent you away to pave your own path. His name and the beautifully detailed dagger on your hip, an ivory crow head for the hilt, as your only weapons. On your own you ventured for more years, gaining wisdom from those you met on the way. You had all but forgotten your old friends from your school days. All until one fateful day.

        Sat on the edge of the cliff, you gazed down at the view below you. The sun was setting, painting the sky in vibrant hues. You were in your own world, leaning back on your arms and kicking your feet over the edge of the cliff. Until a shrill meow drew your attention elsewhere. A scruffy grey cat emerged from the undergrowth. Eyes too blue to be a normal feline blinking up at you. A black and white bow tied neatly around his neck. In his mouth was a letter, the envelope only the most ornate of finery. The crest on the wax stamp was that of a noble house.

        The cat curled up in your lap as you used your dagger to cut the envelop open. The parchment inside just as luxurious as what housed it. You scanned the words on the page, language so flowery and formal it may as well have been another language of it's own, but you got the message.

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

Where will you go first, dear adventurer?

Heartslabyul Manor, the home of the ruthlessly strict Grand Duke Riddle Rosehearts and his cronies. They say he bows to nobody but the queen himself.

Savanaclaw tavern, the home base of a ragtag group of mercenaries. Rumor has it their roguish leader, Leona, isn't of this land, and that his reputation is far from good where he’s from.

Octavinelle Gambling Den, a house of luxury and debauchery. The head, Master Azul, is said to be incredibly kind and benevolent. For the small price of your darkest secrets.

Scarabia Merchant's Guild, a travelling guild with gold flooding from every crack in their coffers. The ever-so-kind Master Kalim is said to only be the face of the guild. His servant is who really runs things.

Pomefiore palace, the main residence of the illustrious Queen of the region, Vil Schoenheit. His past is stained red, as is the story of how he managed to sit on the throne. But the people adore him, so what is there to see if not perfection?

Ignihyde tower, the hiding spot of the forsaken Lord Idia Shroud. Head chair of the Magic Council. His brilliance is said to be unparalleled, but people talk... and sources say he hid himself from society after committing a sin to magic itself.

Diasomnia castle, skeptics say that centuries ago, the old castle at the northern border was occupied by Fae royalty. Now it seems there's life in those haunted halls once more, for an air of regality hangs heavy in the fog surrounding the grand castle.

        Many a path to choose, and you have all the time in the world. But, even still, do you think it wise to keep them waiting?

        I wish you luck,

Choose wisely, my dear adventurer~

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

work belongs to @cougheemedicine, all forms of plagiarism, modifying, translating, reposting are not allowed.

[alchemistc]

okay….. can I ask about Buck in the hockey au?

Buck was a middling college player who got drafted in the third round after his team missed the Frozen Four, and he kind of labored in obscurity for a few years in the AHL before his current team picked him up trying to unload cap space to buy out a problem players contract.

Buck plays four regular season games with his new team before he gets sent back down. The company line is that he's just Not Ready but in actuality he's been hooking up with girls in visitor facilities and once in the team bus. His coach (the coach is Bobby I'm just still working out the details) tells him he sees a lot of potential in Buck, and he could make it if he could just find a way to get his head on straight.

Buck gets his head on straight. He kills it with the affiliate team, runs a point streak through twenty-three games as a defenseman, quarterbacks the power play to the point that fans of the NHL team are up in arms that he hasn't been called up.

They're playing with numbers, trying to give Buck as much ice time as possible while they lose the weight of one of their underperforming D-Men - the usual contract juggling. Then they call him up. He has a few good games, scores a few goals, has a wicked wrister from the blue line. He also scores an own goal against Chim his fourth game up and keeps taking stupid penalties. It's 2-4 penalty minutes a game for too many men or delay of game because he keeps getting too overexcited and slinging the puck over the glass instead of along the boards.

Abby works for TNT, and Buck catches her eye while she's between the pipes for a national broadcast game. She's got enough pull to get his number and they start up a phone based relationship.

Buck's team makes playoffs his first year, and gets slaughtered in the first round. Abby's mom dies and she takes a break from sports casting and Buck, not that she really lets him know that.

During the off-season Buck's team trades for a defenseman who's been in the KHL for a few years. His name is Eddie Diaz.

Buck hates him for about half a day. He feels like he's being replaced. He's worked so fucking hard to make it and now there's this guy who just gets a spot right away?

(They're best buds by the end of the week, and by the time the regular season starts they're playing 25 minutes a night as the top D-Pair)

Buck's career comes to a screeching halt in the second round of the playoffs that year when he gets tripped on a breakaway and slides awkwardly into the boards.

(No one makes the connection at the time, but the player who trips him is the same one one of their old wingers, Deluca, saved from the bottom of a dogpile years ago when a skate got way too close to his neck)

The injury isn't an easy one. There's no quick recovery time. Buck is just sort of stuck in limbo for a while. And then when he's cleared to return they find out there were complications. Coach Bobby benches Buck.

And Buck has been nothing but hockey for most of his life. It was the only way to get his parents to pay attention to him. The only outlet for all his anger. And he's good at it. He's the best. He could be the best, anyway.

Buck takes to twitter during his 'recovery' time. At first he's just posting stupid shit, but then people start paying attention to him. The PR dept does Not Like the way Buck calls out bullshit and trolls on Twitter. The GM gets involved, things blow up. Buck is reluctantly allowed back at practices and quickly jumps into game readiness.

And it's clear he's come back better.

The team toils for years in first and second round exits, and some of their stars are coming close to contract years, and they just can't break out. Buck places third for the Norris a few times, and he and Eddie are often talked about as one of the best Defensive pairings in the league, but their team is fast and light and they get beat to shit every time playoffs roll around. Eddie's feisty, he'll talk shit until the opposing bench is FUMING, he'll get scrappy along the boards, he'll duke it out when necessary, but he usually has to keep a lid on that because he can't let Buck down by getting injured.

At the end of year six for Buck, after a heartbreaking out, Buck's end of year presser goes viral when he talks about how he's been in the league for six years and hasn't won shit.

The fanbase panics because he's in his second to last contract year. If they can't contend, they're convinced he's gonna want out before the All-Star break. (None of them are aware that Buck would rather re-break his leg than leave this team he considers family, and his agent would like to keep it that way)

The team has a banner fucking year. They've got record game winning streaks and record point streaks and their aging goalie has never played better. He has four shutouts in the first half of the season. And Buck was never planning to leave so no one really broaches the contract thing. They'll figure it out in the off-season. Buck's got games to win.

With the trade deadline looming and Buck's team looking like a shoe-in for top of their conference, the front office makes a... strange move early in. They trade for Tommy Kinard. He's a bruiser, real old school type, skates like he's got bricks attached to his ankles but will knock a motherfucker down for looking sideways at his guys. He hasn't announced he's retiring at the end of the season, but he's planning to hang it up either way.

The team is hesitant about that, at first, once they know. He and Chim played together for a few years, and Chim welcomes him to the team by filling his car with golf balls. Pointed, maybe, but Tommy laughs it off, and retaliates, and the team starts to grow fond of him. BUCK starts to grow fond of him. Buck has a Cup run to worry about but Tommy is there, playing five minutes a night and knocking dudes on their ass that would normally be going for Buck and Eddie so consistently that Buck and Eddie feel a little invincible. People are second guessing whether or not they want to risk incurring the wrath of Kinard for a meaningless late March game.

And that is where I leave this because I'm actually seriously considering writing this fic now and that's about where I'd start it.

[suzu-kun22]

Sequel movie of FMA 2003 was actually supposed to be a trilogy. That's why the one movie sucks so bad

Bro this makes, SO much sense.

The biggest problem with Conqueror of Shamballa is that it feels like they rushed through everything that is actually interesting. The plot makes very little sense and the villain is pretty incomprehensible because I have no idea what she wants outside of the superficial.

Tbh I do think one movie could have worked fine if it wasn't trying to juggle so many things at once.

Like, a movie that's just a character drama/study about Edward stuck in 1930s Germany would have been really interesting. Add Alphonse showing up around the halfway point because he figured out a way to get through the gate, and Edward having to make the choice of if he wants to go back or not. Ultimately, maybe he decides that he can't go back. Edward Elric died in Amestris, and the fact that he's alive at all is already a miracle. Maybe he decides that he's a different person now. He isn't meant for his own world. Alphonse still decides to stay with him, because Alphonse wants to stay by his brother's side now that he's found him again. (You could even ignore the whole "going back" plot. Maybe Alphonse figures out a way to get through the gate and he can't go back either, now. He's just happy to have Ed with him again, and the two of them navigate our world together).

I'm very normal. Just cut out the nonsense plot and the villain and it would be a much more interesting movie. 100%.

Or make it a trilogy, or a series, and give all the stuff they crammed into that 1:45 room to breathe jfc

[icallhimjoey]

What would you think would be Joe's reaction when you guys are having an argument and you, right off the bat, list all of your insecurities and say its the perfect excuse for him to break it off with you (I mean if-- dare to dream-- I was in a relationship with him, I would spend every waking day thinking there's someone way better for him)

ew gross, so yes, absolutely, i had to write this (also ive been getting accusations of my readers being too confident, so, i tried my best to make us a little more insecure for this one) (hope you enjoy!) Wordcount: 2.3K

---

What's Best For Me

You noticed immediately that his hands had stopped reaching out. No more touches. That's how you knew it was actually serious.

Joe knew exactly how to hurt you the most, and it wasn't by being quiet, by ignoring your words, by refusing to talk... It wasn't the lack of kisses when he'd walk in, or the fact that he had just gone for a shower and locked the actual door (when was the last time you'd locked any doors in this house? Had you ever?).

It was the hand that didn't reach out. The fingers that didn't play.

His fingertips that didn't caress the sliver of skin that your top would expose when you'd reach for something up high in the kitchen.

His hand that didn't curl around your neck, just to hold onto it whilst you watched TV on the sofa together.

Even the open palm that didn't find your arm or your shoulder when you made a comment that would make him laugh.

Joe skillfully moved around you in the bathroom that morning, without a touch. Not even a bump of a hip or a rub of a shoulder. Nothing.

Joe kept his hands to himself, and he had done since he'd gotten home the day before. It pulled and stretched something inside you that wasn't meant to stretch. You could feel it pull tight when he'd walk in, and snap back harshly when he'd walk out. It almost made you hold your breath in his presence, sighing deeply with frustration when you'd be left alone again.

And logically, you understood.

There was a lot going on.

Professionally and privately, there were many balls up in the air and Joe had only just learnt how to juggle and it was all tense. Scary and new. And then, just to add onto everything, Joe'd been advised to really actually stop smoking for real this time because people were asking what brand of cigarettes he smoked, and fucking hell, if there was one thing Joe didn't want to be, it was a bad influence.

"Joe?"

"What?"

You wondered if him being annoyed and irritated could actually mean something sweet.

Like, maybe it was safe enough to be short and snappy with you because Joe knew you'd still be there for him after.

Or maybe it was the fact that you hadn't really asked Joe much about his feelings. His thoughts. The second he grew a little more distant and buried himself in his mind, you'd... kind of done the same. And you reasoned that Joe would come to you once he was ready. But, what if he wouldn't?

"Does this need washing?"

You held up one of Joe's shirts that had been discarded on the one chair in your bedroom.

"No, I..." Joe sighed, closed his eyes in sheer frustration. At least, that's how you read it. "That doesn't fit me anymore,"

You looked at the shirt. It didn't look like Joe didn't fit it anymore, but you weren't going to test him on his word.

"Do you want to get rid of it?"

"No, just - just leave it, I'll get to it later,"

"Joe, I'm trying to make the bedroom look less untidy,"

Maybe that had been the problem. You weren't insanely organised and would let mess build until you'd have a moment of clarity and would want to deep clean the entire place within 4 minutes. Maybe that was what had gotten under Joe's skin, and why he hadn't leant over you to press a kiss onto your forehead yesterday, when you'd been napping on the sofa when he'd walked in.

Joe probably thought you'd been lazy and had left the place too messy.

"One shirt won't make a difference, just leave it on the chair. I need to go through my wardrobe later and it'll just get worse then anyway,"

All right. Fine.

You placed the shirt back where you found it and thought to yourself, maybe that's it. I'm a pushover.

Joe really only had to grumpily say one thing for you to comply. So weak, it was kind of disgusting.

And you didn't really communicate much, ever, did you? Because you didn't know how to express clear thoughts and feelings, so you'd let Joe swim in the dark for ages which, God, must be really fucking annoying.

And you looked around and saw that Joe's shirt was really all that Joe contributed to the mess in your bedroom - the rest of it was all you. Old make-up wipes and cotton buds caked with mascara laid on the side, and there was clothing all over.

You were messy, and closed-off, and an easy pushover. Wow. What a deal Joe got, Jesus Christ.

Catching sight of yourself in the mirror only made things worse.

That was the person Joe was with?

Was he sure?

Of course he wasn't. Had you not been paying attention? You didn't blame him. Look at you.

Best to keep busy. Actually tidy the place. Give Joe one less reason to be mad. Or worse, disappointed.

You flung every piece of clothing from the floor onto the bed where you started sloppily folding and categorising - grouping what needed to be washed, and what you knew had gone straight from the wardrobe to the carpet when you hadn't been able to decide on what to wear earlier.

Fuck.

This was one of those moments where the fix was so easy, and so readily available as well. You just needed Joe to place a warm palm onto your shoulder, or his fingers to squeeze the back of your neck. It would ground you enough, give you something to focus on and calm you right back down. Words wouldn't even be needed at all.

But you weren't getting any of those touches, because Joe was keeping those touches to himself, and as a result, you found yourself holding back a monster sob in the back of your throat that was growing more desperate to escape by the second.

"Hey, I'm going to..." Joe walked in, but stopped.

And you froze, because you knew, one wrong move, and that sob would get out. But you also couldn't hold your breath forever, and Joe saw how tensed you were just from a glance at your back.

"Oh, Jesus, if the shirt is such a problem," Joe started, and it could have been half a joke, but you weren't sure, and it definitely didn't help.

You swallowed thickly with your back towards Joe still, and hoped Joe wouldn't mention any of the insecurities that were swirling around in your brain. Those didn't need to be set in stone right now.

"N-no, it's fine," oh man, you hated how that came out all shaky as you quickly reached for a pair of your joggers and a hoodie that you balled up into your arms. "Maybe, I think, I'll go and stay with my sister for a few ni-"

"Hey,"

A soft, warm palm curled fingers around one of your biceps from behind and god fucking damn it, it pulled a wrecked noise from you. Embarrassing.

"I don't– that was a joke," Joe tried, and you could hear a breathy laugh escape him as you quickly brushed away the evidence of tears as if Joe couldn't see you make the actual motions right in front of him before you turned around.

"I know," you smiled, tried to save yourself of whatever this situation was becoming, and tried to sound all chipper as you said, "She, my sister, she asked and, wanted the company, so–"

"No she didn't," Joe scanned your whole being and frowned. He knew you were lying. "What is happening right now?"

"Nothing, I'm just..." you were pathetic. Couldn't even make eye-contact with your boyfriend. "I'm sorry, I'll just, I will get all of my shit out of here and get out of your hair for a minute, I think," you stopped and breathed deeply. Joe tried to find your eyes but you kept them trained at your feet like lasers.

"I think that's what's best, f-for now,"

You tried to step around him, but Joe wouldn't let you and reached with two hands that grabbed you by the shoulders.

"Best?" he started. "Best for who?"

That was when you looked up, and were met with two eyes that looked... a little confused, almost patronisingly so, because you saw that little smile dance behind that exaggerated pout. Like Joe hadn't been avoidant and short-tempered with you.

Oh cool. So you were also delusional and would jump to conclusions. How fun for you.

"It's okay if you don't want me here for a little bit, I don't–"

"Who said... because of a shirt?"

"You locked the bathroom door," you pointed and it made Joe turn his head to where the bathroom door was before turning back to you. Worry etched his forehead deeper now.

"Babe, you're speaking to me in riddles,"

And so you decided that you'd just let him know that you knew.

You knew that he hadn't kissed you when he walked in the day before because obviously you'd let the place slowly turn into a pigsty. You were a lazy piece of shit, you were well aware, but you know, Joe could've just said.

And Joe'd been distant because you hadn't really been there for him, had you? Not emotionally, because, you were awkward and weren't good at communicating when it came to feelings, and Joe was very clearly all up in his feelings, all the negative kinds, and you weren't emotionally mature enough to level with him.

You understood he didn't like you for it. Obviously, you wouldn't like you for it either.

But then he showered with the door locked and he'd never done that before, and he hadn't touched you in over 30 hours - not that you'd been counting, but you had. You had totally been counting, you told him.

And it was different now, because of course you'd gone longer than thirty hours without touching before, but not like this. Not when you were around each other and you could see his hands from the corner of your eye as he fiddled with a loose string on his jeans.

And listen. You could easily go without his kisses for a bit. You didn't mind if you didn't have sex for a while. Hugs even, if Joe didn't want to hug you, that was okay. You would manage. But a simple hand that didn't reach to squeeze your thigh, and didn't cup your face...

"Wait,"

Joe tried to stop your rambling, but there were tears now and you kept trying to fold the pieces of clothing in your arms further in on themselves, and listen, Joe, if you wanted to break up, you'd get it.

"Wait, wait, wait, stop. Stop! Look at me,"

At last. Eye-contact. Joe placed his two large palms on the sides of your face, moving your hair backwards a bit as he did.

"What are you on about?"

You just looked at him, eyes all wet, nose all drippy, but so very pleased that you could feel the pressure of his fingertips on your skin.

"Best for me? You think you fucking off to spend some time away from me is what's best for me?"

You kind of did, but, Joe clearly disagreed and it carefully made you question your entire train of thought, even if only for just a second before Joe pulled you in and hugged you tightly. He pressed your face into his chest and held it there in the crook of his elbow.

"I'm sorry, you're right, I've been–"

Joe sighed deeply, and you heard it rumble in his chest. Joe squeezed your side in his hug and it made you twist his T-shirt into your fists as you hugged him back.

"Everything's just... it's all happening at once, and, I can't just go for a quick smoke, and it's all I keep thinking about, I know it's awful, but..." Joe exhaled through a laugh. "I've just been in my head too much, and now I don't fit that stupid fucking shirt anymore because I gained weight, and–"

You squeezed tighter, and loved how there was more to squeeze now, so you were quick to say, "Stop, I love it," all muffled into his T-shirt.

"I know you do, but my wardrobe's not fit for it, is it?"

You pulled back a little, and looked up at him.

"So, we'll go shopping," you offered as a solution.

Joe ducked down for a kiss, pecking you lightly a few times before you said, "Or, for a run," and it made Joe chuckle as he tried to get more kisses out of you before he tightened his arms and hugged again. He nudged and rubbed his head by the side of yours like a cat would and squeezed his fingers into wherever he was touching you.

You had to try your absolute best to keep yourself together. To not melt into a puddle and sink into the carpet. That would only create more mess you'd have to then clean.

"I'm sorry," you said first, but then Joe quickly followed, "No I'm sorry,"

For a minute, you just stood in your messy bedroom and hugged, focussed on each other, focussed on Joe's hands and when you sighed deeply without it hitching in your throat, Joe hummed contently.

"This is helping," he then said, and you let your hands slide down his back to squeeze is bum. "Oh, that helps more, do that again," And it had you giggling, before Joe mused, "What's best for me is you, you idiot."

And you thought that Joe was wrong, but, he was allowed to be wrong. Joe could be wrong forever if it meant that his hands would be on you and you'd get to feel his warmth.

What was best for you was him. Not the other way around. But who were you to tell Joe? He could believe whatever he wanted, and hey, maybe one day, you'd believe it too.

---

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @thelostmoonofpooosh @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @afashionablesufferer @sadbitchfangirl

(taglist currently full, sorry)

[greenhorn-art]

World Champions | Artwork for World Champions by TheDefenestrator by TheDefenestrator, art by Blurb_brain

Fandom: The King's Avatar | 全职高手

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Words: 71 944

At the end of season 4 of the Glory Pro Alliance, the government finally receives the information it has been waiting for: The other players have caught up. Or, In which Glory has been a government recruitment ploy for remote-piloted mecha operators all along.

About the Book

FONTS: Mundo Serif, Azonix [dafont], Segoe UI Symbol

IMAGES: Illustration by Blurb_brain [AO3]; cover image by NASA ID: 440611 [Rawpixel]; Planet Earth background ID: 6331593 [Rawpixel]; Circuit lines background ID: 3117935 [Rawpixel]; endpapers' image by Eric Eastman [Unsplash]; Swoksaar, Desert Dust, Lord Grim, Vaccaria, and Cloud Piercer [The King's Avatar Wikia]

MATERIALS: regular printer paper (8.5"x11", 96 bright, 20lb), 80pt bookboard, Iris Bookcloth (colour: Black Pearl), Neenah cardstock (8.5"x11", bright white, 65lb), waxed linen thread (white, 30/3 size), embroidery floss (shades 3750, 350, 3845, 370), leather cording (1.9mm diameter), Reeves’ acrylic paint (Mars Black, Phthalo Blue, Titanum White), Americana acrylic paint (glow in the dark), ph neutral pva glue (Books by Hand)

PROGRAMS USED: Typeset in Affinity Publisher, cover/title page/endpapers designed in Affinity Designer/Photo, QR codes generated with LibreOffice Writer, PDF arranged for printing with Bookbinder-JS

BINDING STYLE: quarto, case bound (slightly rounded, with oxford hollow, forgot to use tapes)

.

Fenes' "Glory's tech isn't handwaved" AU. This was great! Funny and creative, and I'm both amazed and full of admiration for Fenes' ability to juggle so many characters.

I was feeling excited and ambitious with this one. Tried some new fun things (double core endbands, painted edges) and used some new equipment (a lying press).

The Text

TITLE/HEADINGS FONT: Azonix says 'SciFi' to me, it's a bold, non-serif, sleek font.

BODY FONT: Mundo Serif, it's a decent serif body font I haven't used before. Felt like it worked with Azonix.

SCENE BREAKS: a special character in Segoe UI Symbol of a black & white icon of Earth, the globe showing Asia.

TYPESETTING: Finished typesetting the fic, left document open on my laptop, laptop's battery failed, file now crashes immediately upon reopening, issue persists with copied versions of file (；￣Д￣) . Thankfully I had a backup file for the typeset with the barebones of the text, so I didn't have to restart from scratch...

Title Page

My thinking: it takes place in space, the world's at stake, and it's the dawn of a new horizon for Earth. Glory and the titular champions are represented by Swoksaar, Desert Dust, Lord Grim, Vaccaria, and Cloud Piercer – the captains of what I'd call the 'big 5' teams. A circuitry board background element hints at the tech/mecha nature of the story's competition. It may not match Blurb's art, but I hope I was able to convey some of what the story is about.

The circuitry image is used as decoration throughout the book. I only used the avatars of the top five teams' captains because too many silhouettes would lessen their impact and readability. (Removing the backgrounds was tedious, but worth it.)

Here's what it should have looked like. The test prints for this and the BB art were fine, but I think my inkjet started running out of ink just when I printed the final copies and I didn't reprint them. (Too impatient, really wanted to finish up and read the book)

The Cover

World Champions is another Big Bang fic, and once again I based some of my design choices off of the accompanying artwork. The dominant colours of Blurb_brain's illustration are red and blue-green.

COVER PAPER: For the decorative cover material I used NASA's ASTER image of Poyang Lake. NASA has some really interesting photography some of which remind me of marbled paper, thought it could be interesting. I chose this image of Poyang Lake because 1) it's in China, 2) the colours were similar to Blurb's awesome illustration (fate strikes again, dropping matching images and artwork into my lap!), and 3) NASA is tangentially relevant to the fic, which takes place in space.

BOOKCLOTH: Verona bookcloth in the shade Black Pearl, a lovely dark navy blue colour. Thought it suited the cover paper and title page. (Bought it for this fic specifically, but the colour goes well with almost all of my decorative papers so it should see a lot of use in the future!)

Endpapers

The final decision that held this project at a standstill for two months. In the end I drew inspiration from the matchups against the final opponent in the story. The image I used is a little chaotic and a little too unrelated to identify why I picked it without an explanation, but this book is for me and I know why, so there. (Note that I played around with the colours and cropped the photo.)

Endpaper inspiration: the maps for the matches against the Infilhites

"a long bridge through an enormous tube-like hall, where light seem to come from every side through stained glass windows. It was visually confusing, limited lateral motion" "a warehouse, crates stacked on and beside metal racks that went all the way to the ceiling." "a house of mirrors, fully enclosed to be sure the Infhillte couldn’t fly out of it." "like a volcano, rivers of lava moving sluggishly down a slope, occasional vents of overheated air nearby." "a series of overlapping bridges between halls and stairways, level after level layered over an open abyss."

Trimming & Painting the Edges

Going all out, a 2-for1 deal: the opportunity to use my lying press for the first time and learn a new technique!

TRIMMING: Used a paring chisel and lying press.

CHISEL: The 1.25" wide paring chisel I used was form a modern manufacturer. (Vintage paring chisels are very thin, enough so that you can bend/flex the blade. But don't do that.) It's long and wide blade made it easier to register against the surface of the press for consistent cuts. Looks like this one below from Lee Valley.

LYING PRESS: My dad's project. Solid black walnut, hand carved screws and internal threads — he even made the tools to make the threads too! The jaws of the press are each 3 7/8" wide. It's big and heavy (though much smaller than full-sized professional ones omg), but there's enough of a flat surface to register the chisel against. A thicc boi, much like this one below from Bookbinding Supplies.

PAINTED EDGES: The idea was to have dark navy edges, speckled with white stars. I used acrylic from a tube to paint the edges — tutorials recommended it over liquid bottled acrylic, and I had an old set hanging around. Had to water it down because otherwise the paint just flaked off.

My test of trimming and painting went well. Then the trimmed book itself came out slightly crooked, the paint required significantly more watering-down than before, and the white paint did not want to be both opaque and speckle-able. Unfortunate, but still book-shaped! And now I have an idea of what to do differently next time.

Also, did not like the glow-in-the-dark paint. Looked too translucent in the light when compared to the white acrylic, and needed a thicker coat to be visible in the dark. (The thickness combined with the translucence and base colour kinda reminded me of boogers... Ended up scrapping most of it off, so there's not much left to glow.)

Endbands

Still in the mood to have fun and go all-out, I attempted double-core endbands for the first time.

TUTORIAL: YouTube @ BookbindersChronicle: Bookbinding 101 Sewing Headbands Session 2. Also watched @ DAS Bookbinding's Double-Core Endband // Adventures in Bookbinding, but I personally found Chronicle's closeup video easier to follow.

I used embroidery floss from a 100pk of assorted colours off Amazon, wrapped around a core of 1.9mm leather cording from Michaels. I drew from Blurb_brain's art for the general colours, choosing a dark base, with red, blue-green, and gold. The specific shades were picked to go with the cover.

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - City Girls Part 7/8

Yeah this is a mess I can't fix 😅. Had fun writing this chapter tho since it ft Kyle Walker whom I am very fond of 🤣

Reader plays for the Man City girls academy. She struggles a bit but gets Ruben to mentor her. The the two don't hit off despite having many things in common. It all gets worse when Reader eventually catches feelings for Ruben.

Enjoy!

Cityzens Day.

It was mainly for the club sponsors but alot of players brought along their families and friends as the day was filled with fun activities, football challanges and the ever so popular guided tour inside the Ethiad campus.

It was your first time attending, although it was mandatory for all City players. A little sad, that you weren't able to bring your family from Brazil. They would have loved it, especially the chance to play football at the Ethiad Stadium. Apparently that was the highlight of the event, a friendly game between players from all levels, men, women, girls and boys, and of course their families. The game would be broadcasted on the teams website and it usually brought alot of laughs to alot of people. You couldn't wait to play, but until then you wandered the campus alone, watching other players enjoying spending quality time with their families.

"Hey Y/N, come here!"

You were observing a very intense juggling contests between an academy player and someone's kid, when coach spotted you in the crowd, waving you over.

"Meet my family." He stood next to a beautiful red-haired woman and young boy with a toothy smile. "This is my wife Trish, my son Ethan and that over there..." He pointed towards the crowd, to the center of it, where the juggling contests was happening. "That is my daughter Lucy." He said.

"Wow, she's really good."

She was definitely bruising the ego of the young academy player. He would certainly up his juggling game after this.

"You know, she reminds me alot of you." Coach smiled. "I can't get her to stop juggling the ball either."

"Seems like her talent won't go to waste today, the price is a Playstation 6, no?"

You shared a laugh. Coach had a lovely family who had flown all the way from Australia to see him. Cityzens Day was really the best time for that.

A food truck pulled up to campus just in time for lunch. You bought a taco bowl so big that you had to share it with another player as she saw you struggling.

"So when are you coming to play with us again." She asked, you knew her as Alison Bennett.

"I dunno?" You sighed. "I don't think I fit into the kind of squad your coach wants."

"Are you joking?" Alison frowned. "But you played so well with us."

It was strange really, but since it happned more than once now, that you got excluded from playing with the first team, you simply assumed the worst. Even though Ruben told you not to worry about it, you couldn't help but to. Your development as a player was at stake. And the fact that Ruben's diet helped you put on a few pounds was not a constellation. Perhaps the coaches on the first team had noticed, that you were getting fat?

"Speaking of playing, are you on for the game this afternoon?" Alison asked.

"The game against cityzens?"

"Yeah?"

You smiled. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Great. I really hope you're on my team. I'm the captain. We're gonna need...."

Alison got tuned out as you sighted something in the distance, or better yet, someone. It was Ruben, walking side by side with a woman just as tall as him only thinner. She was wearing a Man City jersey, sporting the number three, Ruben's number three. He held a hand to her lower back, guiding her around, introducing her to his teammates.

"Speaking of players I would like on my team." Alison took notice of where all your attention had gone. "We could surley use a defender like Dias."

"Ruben?" You asked, your voice a bit strained.

She nodded "He's like the best defender City's got. We'll never concede goals with him on our team."

You turned back to look at Ruben and the woman he had brought. Could it be his girlfriend? In that case Ruben didn't have a type, because you looked nothing like her.

"He used to coach me, you know?" Alison leaned in and whispered.

"Who, Ruben?"

She bit her lip, nodding her head.

"B...but you're a forward?"

"So? Aren't you one too? Nevertheless,  Ruben used to teach me how to improve my skills. You know, help me get past the...."

"Defenders." You said, finishing of her sentence.

"Yeah, exactly. He's a really good coach."

"I can imagine." You ignored the painful beating of your heart. "Tell me..." You asked. ".. did you used to go to his place to, you know,"hang out"?"

She snorted. "No, why would I do that?"

"Oh."

A slight relief.

Alison stood, having helped you finish your meal. Her smile was devious. "No, Ruben used to take me back to the infirmary. We used to"hang out" there."

Your heart sank.

It was the realization that perhaps you were one of many.

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

The afternoon sun was setting over Manchester City, but Cityzens Day was far from over. The game of cityzens was still on the agenda.

You laced up your cleats and stepped onto the football pitch at the magnificent Ethiad Stadium. It was truly breath taking playing in front so many people. Although the game was for fun, you were determined to showcase your talent, and even more determined to win against Ruben and his team. That's right, he was the captain of a squad containing lots of good players from all divisions. Players that made your teammates look like freaking toddlers.

"Alright! Ladies, fellas, huddle up!" A man urged for all the players on your team to gather around him. He was big, but funny looking, with a voice that did not match his brutal appearance.

"I'm Kyle Walker, but you can call me your captain for this evening."

"Captain?" Alison frowned. You were lucky to have her om your team, however, she did not look happy to find the captains armband handed to someone else. "We never voted for you to be our captain." She protested.

"Well, you should have. I have the experience when it matters and feel confident that I can lead this team to victory." He said.

"How?" A young U21 player squealed. Like the rest of you he was glaring at Ruben and his team as they warmed up on the opposite side of the pitch. The majority of Ruben's squad were players from the men's first team, including their assistant coaches.

"They're gonna eat us alive." The boy said, to which everyone agreed.

"Well that's not the spirit. Come on guys, hands in." Kyle ordered for everyone to stretch out a hand towards the ring you formed. "Victory on three, alright. One...two...three...VICTORY!" Kyle shouted, whilst the rest of you mumbled the words. Nevertheless you personally were not intimidated. You had played against tough opponents before, and you knew that you had a team that could give it their all, because Manchester City was arguably the best football club in the world.

The whistle blew, and the game began.

The first half was a blur of sweat and noise, as the two teams battled it out on the field. You dribbled and ran, dodging and weaving around your opponents, but Ruben and his team were tough to beat. They were bigger and stronger, and they had a few tricks up their sleeves.

"Whatta fuck!"

You ate dirt as Ruben ordered his players to tag team you. You stood no chance as Ruben was well aware that you rather go on your own than pass the ball.

"I'm sorry Y/N."

Ester pulled you up from the ground, having helped her teammates knock you down. She was playing for Ruben but seemed genuinely sorry for how he was running his play.

"Just give me the ball." You scuffed, as coach blew the whistle, handing your team a freekick for the offense made against you.

Kyle took it and missed.

The game resumed.

"Come on team, it's not over yet!" Your "captain", encouraged. "Fight until the end!"

As the second half began, your team was down by three goals, the majority of players being tired, cold and dirty, ready to throw in the towel. But you refused to give up. You knew that you had to do something to turn the game around, and you were determined to be the one to make it happen.

The moment didn't reveal itself until injury time. During he last minute's of the game. Ruben misjudged a pass, and you saw your chance. Charging directly towards him you had no other intention than to dribble past him.

"Pass the ball!" Kyle shouted, pointing to Alison who stood open, ready to receive the assist.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, you had to do this, you had to try and get past him. However Ruben's braud frame made it nearly impossible for you to sight the goal behind him. He looked smug, aware that your chances of getting past him were slim to none. But you had prepared for this. Ruben had prepared you for this. As he lunged forwards, you did not hesitate to bring the fight to him. The two of you clashed together, with Ruben's strangeth throwing you off, however you had suprised him with an elbow to his lower ribs, the quick jab making him fold before your eyes. It was your chance to get past him. For that split second that you caught him lacking you managed to ship the ball in the air and leaped your body over Ruben's extended leg. It was the moment of the match, the crowd on their feet watching a 60kg girl go head to head with one of the world's greatest defenders, beating him to it, sending the ball into the back off the net.

The crowd erupted in cheers, and your team rushed onto the field, arms around each other's shoulders, grinning from ear to ear.

"That's what I'm talking about. That's how we play!" Kyle Walker was in the verge of tears. You may have lost the game, but you had proven that you were not to be underestimated. Not now, not ever. By anyone.

"Great game Y/N."

"Um, thanks."

Ester approached you as the pitch cleared of people, friends and family members heading their respective ways. Cityzens Day was officially over.

"I really mean it, you played amazing."

You were on the ground tying your cleats. Looking up at Ester you sighed. "What do you want?"

Her expression was hard to read, her eyes desperate to tell you somthing. "I..." She squealed.

You stood, hands on your hips. "Yes?"

She sighed. "I'm sorry it had to be this way...between us. You really deserve to play with the first team but so do I. I've fought all of my life for this position."

"And I haven't?" You gasped. "Ester if you've got somthing else to say to me I rather not hear it." You turned your back on her and walked away, however, she fought to catch up to you.

"Come on Y/N. At least now you get to be with your boyfriend. I mean it was his idea."

"Whatta hell are you talking about Ester. I don't have a boyfriend."

"Could have fooled me." She chuckled, to which you frowned. "Ruben practically begged me not to tell the club officials about you two. He told me that he would talk to the coaches on the first team, tell them how you were having problems settling into a new country, mental problems, that were effecting your performance."

"He did what?"

Suddenly you lost the sensation of your hands and feet.

Ester nodded. "It worked. The coaches on the first team didn't want to put pressure on you by calling you up to play for them and so they picked me instead. It's a win-win for both of us since you get to be with Ruben and I get to play."

You were lost for words, trying to make sense of her words that were like riddles to your ears. However one thing was clear, Ruben had betrayed you, and for what?