#but holy cow was that an experience to read

[deathsmallcaps]

Ok when I reblogged this last night, I picked 3rd because that’s what I’ve heard, but I also said maybe a little bit #4? Because at the time I thought ‘well something not really mattering to you = a sort of rejection” so I was a little confused as to how they were separate options?

And then when I woke up and I saw this I remembered that the ‘rejection’ idea was an antisemitic talking point. As in supposedly you saw the undeniable truth of Jesus and were like nah.

So I’m not sure how else it could’ve been worded - it was quickly visible to me after a good night’s sleep - but I wonder how many other people were thinking similarly to me when they picked #4, and how many are genuinely antisemitic. But I hope there’s just a lot of confused people.

[wongyuseokie]

Theories & Heartstrings | k.m.g

Chapter 3: Fucked Up, Still Falling

Summary: As a writer with a mildly cynical take on love, you’ve always believed people have a “type”—a pattern they never stray from when it comes to dating. And Kim Mingyu? He’s the textbook definition of someone who wouldn’t go for someone like you, nor would you go for him. But you test your theory when a fateful run-in with your charming neighbour sparks an unexpected attraction.

The plan? Go on dates with him and count how many it takes before your heart gets involved—if it ever does. But Mingyu is unpredictable, effortlessly breaking down your carefully constructed walls with every smile, every late-night conversation, every moment that feels too easy to be just an experiment.

The real problem? Secrets never stay secrets for long. And when Mingyu finds out the truth behind your so-called theory, will it prove you right, or that love doesn’t follow the rules you thought it did?

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut

Word Count: 15,457

Pairings: Neighbor! Mingyu x Journalist! Female Reader

Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Neighbours AU! Fake Dating AU! (but only one is fake dating. It’ll make sense when you read it, lol). Non-Idol AU!. 

Content Warnings: yelling, swearing, LOTS OF ANGST HOLY COW shit really hit the fan here. Mingyu is very sad and angry (rightfully so) cheol is very very mean, but its warranted, hoshi is mean but not as bad more bitchy than mean. seokmin is snippy but sunshine cant ever be truly cruel. Smut Warnings:  no smut actually, suggestive sure, but no sex mentions of anal sex its more jokey but none of it. lots of kissing, fingering (but its not y/n) dun dun.  Author's Note 1: I'd be remiss if I didn't thank the lovely people who helped beta this monster of a story. thank you @lovetaroandtaemin @nebulousbrainsoup @strxwberry-skiess for your patience time and love thank you guys so much!! Author's Note 2: welp here it is guys my last fic, ever, but good news, this is only chapter 2, and the rate at which i keep increasing my word count, it'll be a while before this is all over. Series Masterlist

That evening, your bedroom was a mess of indecision.

Three dresses lay crumpled on the bed, all rejected for reasons that now felt trivial. Too safe. Too bold. Too pink. Too much like the last time you tried too hard.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, bare-faced and half-dressed, clutching a blouse by the hanger like it might whisper the answer to your dilemma.

“Why am I like this?” You muttered under your breath, heart already fluttering with a mix of anticipation and dread.

Tonight was a date. A real one. With Mingyu.

And you wanted it to be perfect. You needed it to be.

Your fingers fumbled with the delicate clasp of your necklace, the one Mingyu once complimented offhandedly—the one you hadn’t worn in months.

He made you feel... like maybe things could be different.

But even as you spritzed perfume along your collarbone and fluffed your freshly styled hair, the undercurrent of guilt pulsed just beneath the surface.

He didn’t know. Not yet.

About the article. About how much you’d withheld. About everything that came before the version of you he was finally getting to know.

You’d planned to tell him. You would tell him.

Just... not yet. Not tonight.

You needed this evening. One moment where things felt light again. Where the flutter in your chest was excitement and not fear. Where his gaze stayed soft and adoring and not clouded by betrayal.

You just needed one more night.

With trembling hands, you smoothed down the front of your dress and gave yourself a once-over in the mirror.

“You’ve got this,” you whispered.

And maybe, for just a few hours, you could believe it.

“Wow,” Joshua said, eyes widening as you stepped into the living room. “You clean up… shockingly well.”

You smirked, smoothing down the front of your satin dress. “I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“I mean it,” he said, placing a hand on his chest dramatically. “I’ve never seen you look so—wait, is that contour?”

“Shua,” you warned, grabbing your purse.

He grinned. “Okay, okay. You look gorgeous. Just—please tell him tonight.”

Your smile faltered. “What about tomorrow? I just want to bask in tonight, it might be the last time he wants to be around me. I promise, just give me tonight and I’ll tell him.”

“You keep saying that,” he replied gently. “And the longer you wait, the worse it’s going to feel.”

You glanced down at your heels, then at the tiny clutch in your hands, where the journal—a condensed version of your article draft—was tucked beneath your lipstick and phone. “Just… let me have this night. One last perfect date.”

Joshua didn’t say anything else. He just stood up and kissed your forehead. “Then go get your perfect date, bub.”

When the knock came at the door, you inhaled sharply before opening it.

Mingyu stood there in a crisp, charcoal suit, holding a single sunflower. “Hi.”

You blinked. “You wore a suit.”

“You said fancy,” he replied, extending the flower with a sheepish smile. “And you look… beautiful.”

You took the flower and gave him a bashful smile. “You clean up alright too.”

“Alright?” He scoffed. “I wore cologne for this.”

You laughed, letting him lead you down the hallway. His fingers found yours the moment you stepped into the elevator, and the silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable, and warm.

Still, the journal in your clutch weighed heavier than ever.

“Okay, no hints?” You asked as you slipped into his car.

“None,” he said, grinning as he pulled out of the parking lot. “But I will say this—you’ve never been to this place.”

Mingyu’s car smelled like him — something warm and clean and distinctly comforting. He played music as he drove, humming along quietly.

“This song’s cute,” you said, smiling as the melody filled the space between you.

“I thought you'd like it,” he replied, sneaking a glance at you. “Do you want me to sing it to you someday?”

You grinned. “You sing?”

“Only in the shower. Or when I’m drunk. Or when I think you won’t hear.”

“Maybe I’ll catch you one day,” you teased. Then, softer, “I’d like that.”

The rest of the drive was warm and easy, and you found yourself leaning toward him even without meaning to. Everything felt so natural — his jokes, the way he opened your door, the way he pulled you close when you walked toward the restaurant.

And then you saw where he’d brought you.

“Wait. This place is—Mingyu, it’s fancy-fancy.”

He smiled sheepishly. “I said dress fancy, didn’t I?”

“You also said you weren’t trying to impress me.”

“I lied.” He held the door open with a dramatic bow. “I’m trying to impress the hell out of you.”

Your heart swelled. And cracked.

Over candlelight and wine, you let yourself enjoy the night. Mingyu was in his element — charming, attentive, funny. You kept catching yourself staring, forgetting the food in front of you entirely.

“So,” he said between bites of risotto, “on a scale of one to ten… how good of a date am I?”

You choked a little, caught off guard. “What?”

Mingyu smirked. “Come on. You’re a journalist. I’m sure you rate everything.”

You forced a laugh. “Please, I only rate movies and bad exes.”

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “What if I want to be rated?”

You tilted your head. “Dangerous request.”

“Hit me with it.”

You looked at him for a long moment. Everything in you wanted to say ten. But your throat tightened and the number stuck in your chest like a stone.

“Solid… nine,” you managed, lifting your wine glass to cover your mouth.

He gasped. “Nine? What the hell do I have to do for a ten?”

You laughed. “You’ll figure it out. You’re annoyingly good at that.”

Mingyu grinned and leaned over the table. “I’ll earn it. Just wait.”

You smiled back, but the weight of your secret pulled a little heavier.

~~

You spent the weekend scribbling in your journal like it was a secret lab notebook. Bullet points. Observations. Emotional barometers. You even rated the dates, which—when said out loud—sounded ridiculous. But somehow, it helped. Date one: a six. Sweet, funny, respectful. He kissed you. You left out the part where his hands were on your hips for half the movie and your thigh was slotted between his.

You were trying to be scientific about it. But there was no method for what was happening to your heart.

And the worst part? He still didn’t know.

“How’s the story going?” Keira peeked over your shoulder, her iced coffee in hand and her voice low. 

“Is that a hickey?”

You slammed your laptop shut with a yelp. “Keira.”

She grinned. “Relax. I’m just saying, if you’re going over to his place today, maybe wear a scarf. Or concealer. Or both.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s fine.”

“He gave you that hickey?”

You didn’t answer. Keira smirked. “His lips do look soft.”

You laughed nervously. “They are.”

She wiggled her eyebrows. “Use protection, Hemingway.” ~~

Later that evening, you flung your arms around Mingyu’s neck as he lifted you off the ground with a grunt.

“Koala mode activated,” he teased, carrying you inside.

“Mingyu what time do you need me at the gallery tomorrow? You said you needed help moving some stuff right around right for your showcase?” 

Mingyu pondered for a second, “maybe around 4?” 

“Cool, anyway, you lovebirds, keep it PG,” Seungcheol muttered as he passed by, smirking over his bowl of pasta.

You giggled and buried your face in Mingyu’s shoulder. The scent of him, faintly earthy and warm, made your stomach flip. Mingyu carried you straight to his room, and neither of you seemed particularly interested in leaving it.

The door to Mingyu’s room barely clicked shut before you were on each other.

His hands cupped your jaw as he pulled you into a kiss—hot, urgent, toe-curling. You barely had time to catch your breath before his mouth was on yours again, one hand already sliding beneath the hem of your dress.

“You’re sure?” he asked against your lips, his voice already thick with want.

You nodded, tugging his shirt up in answer. “Off. Now.”

He chuckled softly, but obeyed, yanking the shirt over his head and tossing it aside. His chest was warm against your palms, all firm lines and soft skin, and you couldn’t stop your hands from roaming.

“God, you’re unreal,” you muttered.

“Right back at you,” he said, already working on the zipper of your dress.

Clothes came off in between kisses and breathless laughter, piece by piece—your dress hitting the floor, his jeans half-kicked off before he stepped out of them entirely. By the time you tumbled onto his bed, you were down to just your bra and panties, and he was in nothing but his boxers, hovering over you with flushed cheeks and heavy-lidded eyes.

And still kissing you like he couldn’t get enough.

“You never told me you had a showcase,” you murmured later as you lay on his chest, slightly breathless from the makeout session your fingers absentmindedly tracing the curve of his biceps.

He shrugged. “Didn’t know if you’d want to come.”

You looked up at him. “I’d love to. You know I’d love to.”

His ears pinked at your earnestness. “It’s not much. Just a small gallery set-up. Some portraits, mostly candid stuff. I’ve been working on this series of people mid-laugh.”

“That’s adorable,” you whispered and meant it.

Mingyu ran his hand down your back, fingertips grazing the base of your spine. “You have a very nice butt,” he said, dropping a kiss on your shoulder.

You turned, smirking. “Do you plan to fuck it?”

His face went crimson. “Hey! That’s unfair.”

“Why? I’m merely asking questions.”

“You’re mean.”

You rolled onto your back, stretching. “Do you remember that night in the shower? After the party, when you touched me there…it felt so fucking good.”

Mingyu groaned and immediately rolled away from you. “Nope. No. We’re not doing this.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He stood, pulling on his sweatpants like it was armour. “I already broke the rule once. We said no sex until we’re ready, and I want to do this right.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You realise all I’m wearing is my bra and panties?”

He winced. “You’re killing me.”

You sat up. “So what? You just want me to deal with it? Touch myself and journal about it later?”

The words spilled out before you could stop them, and Mingyu’s head jerked toward you.

Oh no. You hated the way it sounded. You could feel it—the guilt slowly bubbling under your ribs like carbonated dread.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” he interrupted. “I’m sorry for snapping. I just… I really like you, okay?”

You softened. “Let’s make a new rule: no more dates at anyone’s house until we’re ready to break all the rules.”

He smiled and tugged you back to bed. “Deal.”

You curled into his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. And yet, your mind was elsewhere. On your laptop, your notes, the dates you were documenting. You wondered if he would’ve ever agreed to be part of your “research” if he had known.

You were halfway to falling for him. And he didn’t even know he was being measured.

~~

“Have you told him yet?” Joshua asked you the next morning, watching you poke at your cereal like it had personally wronged you.

You didn’t look up. “No.”

“How many dates has it been?”

You mumbled, “Ten.”

“Y/N.”

“I know. I know, okay?” You sighed, “I’m telling him. Just… not tonight. He is preparing for his showcase. I don’t want to mess with his head.”

Joshua narrowed his eyes but let it go—for now. ~~

The gallery was empty, but you could see Mingyu inside preparing for his showcase at the end of the week. Minimalist lighting, deep charcoal walls, the soft hum of polite conversation. You stood in front of one of Mingyu’s photographs, a candid of an older couple laughing over a chessboard. It made your chest ache.

“You came,” Mingyu whispered, suddenly appearing beside you.

“I’m almost done here, just ensuring the lights and all are set for the showcase, at the end of the week.”

You turned to smile at him, but his tie was crooked and his hair was slightly damp—like he’d been nervously running his fingers through it all evening.

“You look like someone’s proud boyfriend,” you teased.

He blinked. “Am I?”

Your breath caught. You didn’t answer.

You were walking home, your heels in your hand, when Mingyu tugged you under a streetlamp.

“I didn’t want to ask you like this,” he said, his voice unsteady, “but I’ve known for a while now… I like you, and we’ve been through so much, but I like you. A lot. You make me nervous in the best way. You make me want to be better. So—” he swallowed, “—will you be my girlfriend?”

You stared at him. You should’ve said it right then. About the article. The dates. The reason you were writing everything down.

But you didn’t.

You just said yes. And kissed him so he couldn’t hear your guilt screaming in your throat.

“You said yes,” Mingyu whispered into your hair, almost in disbelief. You could feel the grin on his face as his hands slid around your waist and pulled you into a deeper hug. His voice was low, warm, and giddy. “I have a girlfriend.”

You laughed softly into his chest, but guilt bloomed like ink in water.

“I was going to ask you another day, actually on the day of my showcase, well after it,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at you. “I had this whole plan. Photos of you projected behind me, a cheesy slideshow. But tonight felt… right.”

Your stomach twisted. Photos of you?

“You’re serious?” You asked, half smiling. Mingyu nodded, almost shyly. “I’ve been taking candids whenever you weren’t looking,” he admitted. “I know, creepy boyfriend behaviour. But they’re… they’re beautiful. You’re beautiful. I wanted to capture how you make me feel when I look at you.”

You didn’t know what to say. A part of you wanted to cry — from the sweetness, and the shame.

“That’s really… thoughtful,” you said, trying not to choke on the words. Your smile faltered. “I can’t wait to see it.”

But you could barely look him in the eye.

That night, after Mingyu walked you home and kissed you with all the sweetness in the world, you sat on your bed with your journal open on your lap. You hadn’t written anything since the first few dates. The number six still stared back at you, innocent and clinical. You hadn’t added the last four dates. You didn’t know how to write about the way he made you laugh when you were angry. Or how he told you he dreamed of printing photos in black and white because that’s how he saw the world when you weren’t in it. Or how his lips felt against your forehead after he sang on stage like he was made of stardust.

You crossed out the six and wrote nine.

Then stared at it for a long time.

You closed the notebook and shoved it into your work bag. 

You’d tell him. You had to. But not tonight. Not when he was smiling so brightly. Not when he called you his girlfriend like he’d been waiting his whole life to say it.

You curled into bed, burying your face into your pillow, guilt prickling at the edges of your happiness.

Soon, you told yourself. You’d tell him soon.

~~

The next few days blurred into a montage of camera flashes, coffee dates, and late-night phone calls where Mingyu would talk about lighting setups and lens choices like he was describing magic.

“I’m thinking of opening with black and whites,” he said over the phone one night, his voice sleepy. “The ones I took of you. You know, that photo from the coffee shop? You were laughing at something dumb I said.”

You clutched the phone tighter. “You took a photo of that?”

“I take photos of everything,” he said. “But that one… that one’s my favourite.”

You didn’t know whether to melt or cry. “I can’t believe I’m going to be in a gallery,” you said, your voice lighter than you felt.

“You’re not just in the gallery,” he chuckled. “You’re the inspiration.”

You could hear the grin in his voice. And you wished you could deserve it.

By Thursday, Mingyu was knee-deep in final edits. You stopped by his place with snacks and coffee, trying not to let your nerves get the better of you.

Seungcheol glanced up from the couch. “Hey, muse,” he teased. “He hasn’t stopped pacing for two hours.”

You smiled awkwardly. “I brought croissants.”

Mingyu looked up from his laptop like he hadn’t noticed you come in. “You’re here,” he breathed, and suddenly all the tension in his body melted. “Come see.”

He beckoned you over, pulling you gently into his chair as he stood behind you. Dozens of thumbnails filled the screen — shots of city streets, shadows cast on faces, hands mid-gesture — and scattered among them were photos of you.

One of you reading in the park. One with your hair messy and your lips parted in laughter. One where you were looking directly at the camera, unaware he’d even lifted it.

“Gyu,” you said softly. “These are…”

He rested his chin on your shoulder. “You always say you don’t know how you look when you’re not trying,” he murmured. “I do.”

You didn’t trust your voice. You turned toward him, and he kissed your cheek gently.

And all you could think about was the notebook in your work bag and the words “latest article” scribbled across the first page.

Later that night, curled up together on his couch as he scrolled through playlists for the showcase. 

“You okay? You’ve been quiet.”

He hesitated. The words perched on his lips like a bird on a wire.

“I’m just nervous,” he said instead. “Big night coming up.”

You squeezed his hand. “You’ll be amazing.”

You almost laughed at the irony. Instead, you smiled and leaned into him, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your heart had started to race.

~~

You stood outside the gallery, trying to convince yourself your knees weren’t trembling. The venue was elegant — all high ceilings, exposed brick, and warm ambient lighting. Mingyu’s name was printed in glossy serif font across the entrance: Kim Mingyu: Through My Lens.

You took a breath. Then another.

“Are you going to walk in?” Joshua whispered behind you, “or just stare at the door until the exhibit’s over?”

You shot him a glare but let him loop his arm through yours.

“I can’t tell if I’m nervous for him,” you muttered, “or just a horrible person.”

“You’re not a horrible person,” Joshua replied easily. “Just… an occasionally dumb one.”

“Thanks,” you grumbled.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” he added as you stepped through the door.

The second you entered, it was as if the air changed. Soft music played overhead, the scent of white wine and something citrusy floating in the space. People lingered over photographs mounted on pristine white walls, murmuring appreciatively. You spotted Seokmin and Keira by the drinks table, and Wonwoo near the back corner with Mia.

And then your eyes landed on him.

Mingyu was in black slacks, a crisp button-down, sleeves rolled up, the camera still slung around his neck even though tonight wasn’t about taking photos — it was about showing them.

When he saw you, his smile was so instant and so sincere it nearly shattered you.

“Y/N,” he said, slipping his hand into yours as you approached. “You came.”

“You asked me to,” you said softly, “I wouldn’t miss this.”

His hand lingered at your waist as he leaned down. “You look breathtaking,” he whispered.

You smiled, kissed him quickly before you lost your nerve. “So do you, artist boy.”

Mingyu turned you toward the display. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

You followed him through the crowd, weaving past strangers and small talk until you reached the far wall — a quiet corner lit by a single spotlight.

There were three frames there.

The first was a cityscape at sunrise. The second was a candid of Seungcheol asleep on the couch with a book covering his face. And the third was you.

The photo was simple: you, sitting at a window, eyes closed, sunlight brushing against your cheeks like a secret. It looked like peace. Like love.

Your breath caught.

“I call it Falling,” Mingyu said softly.

You swallowed. “That’s…”

He smiled down at you. “I took it three weeks after we met, when we were hanging out in the park, that’s when I realized I was in trouble.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came.

“I’m serious,” he added, his voice barely audible over the soft clinks of wine glasses and distant chatter. “I knew you were going to wreck me, and I didn’t care.”

You could feel your heart cave in on itself.

“Gyu,” you whispered, and he turned to you, expectant.

But you couldn’t do it.

You couldn’t ruin this night.

So instead you leaned up and kissed him, slow and soft. “It’s beautiful,” you whispered. “You’re beautiful.”

He wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Let’s celebrate later. After this, it’s just you and me.”

You nodded, your smile shaky. “I’d like that.”

But the words stayed trapped in your throat like a secret begging to be released.

~~

The showcase wrapped up to rounds of applause, handshakes, and endless praise. You watched from the sidelines as Mingyu basked in the limelight — cheeks flushed with pride, hair slightly tousled, still laughing from something Seungcheol said. He looked like he belonged in a painting, and for a moment, you felt like the luckiest person in the room.

But also, the most deceitful.

He found you again before you could spiral too far. “Come on,” he whispered, curling his fingers around yours. “My place. Just us.”

You nodded, letting him lead you out of the crowd, out of the venue, out of the guilt temporarily.

Mingyu's apartment smelled like him. Warm, slightly musky, with a hint of cologne and something sweet — the remnants of a scented candle from weeks ago. You curled up on his sofa while he kicked off his shoes and brought over two glasses of wine.

“To you,” he said, raising his glass.

You blinked. “Me?”

“For showing up. For holding my hand through all this. For being the reason I made half those pieces.”

You stared at him, heart in your throat. “Mingyu…”

He leaned closer. “Can I say something stupid?”

You nodded.

“I think you’re it for me.”

Your heart stopped. You couldn’t breathe. The wine turned to acid in your stomach.

“I mean, we haven’t even been together properly that long, but every time I see you, it feels like everything falls into place.” He laughed softly, bashfully. “Sorry. That was probably too much.”

“No,” you choked, voice barely holding steady. “It’s not. I just…”

You paused, fingers tightening around your wine glass.

Say it. Tell him. Just say it.

“I’m really lucky,” you said instead, forcing the words out like poison disguised as honey. “Lucky to have you.”

Mingyu smiled at you like you’d handed him the world. He reached for you and pulled you into his lap. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “You know that?”

You nodded against his chest, burying your face in his shirt. You couldn’t look at him. You didn’t deserve to.

His fingers stroked lazily up your spine. “I’m happy,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

You swallowed the truth. You kissed him instead.

The guilt didn’t disappear. It just burrowed deeper.

And as his lips brushed against your collarbone, his arms wrapping tighter around you like you were everything he’d ever wanted—you promised yourself, next time. Next time, you'd tell him.

You had to.

~~

“Y/N, do you have a hair tie? I’m trying to see how I’ll look with a ponytail,” Mingyu called out to you one evening later from the living room, his voice light.

You smiled, “yeah, in my bag!” You called back, tugging your blanket tighter around you. You didn’t think twice—Mingyu had gone through your bag a dozen times before, always fishing for snacks or stealing your lip balm. You only grew concerned when the silence stretched a little too long.

“Gyu?” You asked, walking out of the bedroom.

And then your heart stopped.

Mingyu stood completely still in the middle of your living room, your journal clutched in his hands like it had scalded him. His brows were furrowed, lips parted in disbelief, and you could tell he had been flipping through it for a while. You followed his gaze to the open page. Your handwriting. His name.

Your stomach dropped.

“What the fuck is this?” Mingyu’s voice was quiet. Too quiet.

You blinked. “Mingyu—”

“Are you seriously rating me?” He said, louder now, shaking the journal for emphasis. “Is this what this was to you? A fucking science experiment?”

You took a step toward him, arms up as if approaching a wild animal. “Gyu, I can explain—”

“No. Don’t. Because right now my brain is running in circles trying to understand how the hell I could be so fucking stupid.” He threw the journal on the couch like it physically burned him. “I thought I was in something real with you, Y/N. I thought this meant something.”

“It does,” you whispered.

“Does it?” He snapped. “Because you sure as hell didn’t act like it. You wrote down bullet points like I was some test subject. You kept track of our dates like I was a fucking checklist.”

You flinched, guilt crushing your chest. “I was going to tell you.”

“When?” His laugh was sharp, humourless. “After you published it? After you hit ten dates and figured out whether I made the cut or not?”

“No! God, no. I just… I didn’t expect to actually fall for you.”

Mingyu’s jaw tightened. “That doesn’t make this better.”

“I didn’t think it’d go this far,” you continued, helpless now. “It started as an idea, a pitch for a column. But then we kept going out, and it stopped feeling like research. I started liking you. A lot. I still do.”

He stared at you, breathing hard. And then he said, so quietly it was almost a whisper, “So the night you said yes to being my girlfriend… you still wrote about me?”

Your silence was answer enough.

Mingyu let out a strangled laugh, blinking rapidly. “Cool. So the moment I thought I’d finally found someone who actually gave a shit about me, I was just another subject in your notebook.”

“No, Mingyu, please don’t say that—”

“Why not? It’s true, isn’t it?” He shouted. “You let me fall for you while you kept notes behind my back. You smiled at me, kissed me, touched me—and you were always thinking about your next paragraph.”

You took a shaky breath, reaching for him, but he recoiled like you’d burned him. “Don’t,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “Don’t touch me.”

You felt your throat tighten. “Gyu, please. I know I should have told you, I just—I was scared. Scared it would ruin what we had.”

“Well, it’s ruined now,” he said coldly. “So congratulations.”

“Mingyu—”

He brushed past you, but paused at the door. “You know what hurts the most? I told you things I’ve never said out loud. I let you in.” His voice cracked then, just a little. “And all the while, you were writing me down like I was disposable.”

And then he left.

You sank onto the floor, the weight of everything collapsing on top of you. The journal sat on the couch, open and damning. You couldn’t even look at it.

You had wanted to fall for him.

Now you weren’t sure you’d ever stop. ~~

You woke up the following morning to silence. No hum of Mingyu’s heater, no soft snores beside you, no faint scent of his cologne in the air. Just your own bedroom, dim and cold.

Your eyes blinked open slowly, heavy, as if even they didn’t want to face the light. The moment you tried to sit up, a dull ache pulsed behind your eyes, the aftermath of hours spent crying into your pillow.

You reached for your phone automatically, more out of habit than hope. No new messages. You hadn’t expected one… but some small part of you still wanted it. Still wanted him.

You groaned softly, dragging your blanket over your head like it might shield you from your own thoughts. But it couldn’t. Not from the way he’d looked at you. Like he didn’t recognize you. Like something in him had cracked—and you had no idea if it would ever be whole again.

You got up eventually, padding into the bathroom. Your reflection startled you: eyes puffy and red, lips chapped, skin blotchy from salt and regret. You splashed your face with cold water, trying to erase the damage, but the guilt clung stubbornly beneath your skin.

The kitchen was too quiet, too neat. You set a pot of water to boil, more for the comfort of routine than any real desire to eat.

As you leaned against the counter, your phone buzzed again.

Still no messages from Mingyu.

Just a calendar reminder. Dinner with Gyu — 7PM ❤️

You deleted it. And still, your chest ached like you'd just done something irreversible.

You whispered into the silence, “I’m sorry.”

But no one was there to hear it. It was just you sat in the living room, feeling awful. 

The front door creaked open sometime late afternoon, followed by the shuffle of sneakers and the low hum of conversation.

“Should we pick up more oat milk next time?” Joshua’s voice drifted down the hall.

“I’m not the one finishing it in two days,” Wonwoo replied, a teasing lilt in his voice.

You didn’t move from where you sat, curled into the far corner of the couch with your knees pulled to your chest, your oversized hoodie practically swallowing you whole. The television was on, playing a random episode of a show you weren’t watching. A forgotten cup of tea sat cold on the coffee table.

Joshua was the first to see you. “Y/N?” His voice softened instantly. “Hey... what’s wrong?”

Wonwoo paused behind him, his eyes immediately taking in the puffiness around your eyes, the slumped shoulders, the blank stare.

“Y/N?” Joshua’s voice shifted instantly. You hadn’t even realized your face had crumpled until you saw the way both their heads snapped up. “What happened?” He asked again, this time standing up, eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the way your shoulders shook.

“He knows, he found out.” 

Joshua was beside you in a second, arms wrapping around you as you sank into him. You didn’t even bother holding it together anymore. You let yourself sob, the ugly kind, the kind that made your throat burn and your chest ache. Joshua whispered something softly—comforting, aimless sounds—and rubbed your back.

Wonwoo stood silently, his jaw tight as he looked down at the journal, then back up at you.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” you finally whispered after a while. “I really didn’t.”

Joshua pulled back just enough to see your face. “What happened?”

You wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoodie. “He found it. The journal. The whole damn thing. I think he was looking for a hair tie or something, and it just… fell out.”

Wonwoo closed his eyes and let out a long breath.

“He thought it’d be cute or romantic or something,” you said, your voice hollow. “You know, me scribbling little lovestruck notes. But instead, he found ratings. Fucking ratings. Breakdown charts. He read them all. And then he looked at me like I was the worst person he’d ever met.”

“What did you say?” Joshua asked gently.

“That it was for an article. That I had this stupid idea—this dumb, terrible idea—and that I didn’t mean for it to go that far.” You looked down at your hands. “But it did. I fell for him, and I never told him the truth, and now he thinks everything I said was a lie.”

Neither of them said anything.

“He stormed out. Thinks I’m a liar. Asked if I had to force myself on dates with him just to see how long it would take to fall for someone like him. Like he wasn’t enough on his own.”

Joshua sighed and sat back down, rubbing his temple.

“I begged him to listen. Told him I didn’t mean to hurt him. That I’d planned to tell him. But he just—he didn’t believe a word of it.”

“And now?” Wonwoo finally asked, voice flat.

“I don’t know,” you said quietly. “I don’t think there is a now.”

~~

You hadn’t planned on coming by. Honestly, you weren’t even sure what you were doing until your knuckles rapped twice against the door to Mingyu’s apartment. There was a half-second where you considered turning around, pretending like you’d never shown up. But the door swung open before you could.

“Y/N?” Seokmin blinked at you in surprise. “Hey, wow. Uh—Mingyu didn’t say you were coming by?”

You offered him a small, nervous smile. “I just... wanted to talk to him. Is he in?”

Seokmin hesitated. “Yeah, he's around... sure, come in.” He stepped aside, gesturing for you to walk through. You did, clutching your bag a little tighter to your side. You didn’t know what you were hoping for. A moment. A conversation. A sliver of the version of Mingyu who used to laugh when you messed up the coffee order.

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

Then, Mingyu stepped out of the hallway, stopping dead when he saw you.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” His voice wasn’t raised yet, but it landed like a slap. 

Cold.

Sharp.

You flinched. “I just wanted to talk.”

“Oh, you want to talk now?” He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “That’s rich, coming from someone who spent weeks documenting me like a lab rat.”

“Mingyu, please—”

“No. Don’t ‘please’ me.” He was walking toward you now, slow and deliberate. “Do you think I’m stupid? That I wouldn’t find out eventually? You thought you could just scribble notes behind my back, rate my kisses out of ten, and I’d what—fall even harder for you?”

You opened your mouth, but Mingyu was already shaking his head.

“Seokmin, why the hell did you let her in?” Mingyu snapped.

Seokmin looked between the two of you, piecing together what he had clearly walked into the middle of. “I didn’t know... I didn’t know she—”

“Yeah, well, now you do.” Mingyu’s gaze flicked back to you, burning. “Did you come back to take more notes? See what heartbreak looks like up close?”

“Gyu, I just needed to explain,” you said, voice cracking. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Then why did you?” He asked bitterly. “You chose to keep lying. You chose to keep writing.”

“I was going to stop,” you said quietly.

“But you didn’t,” he bit back. “You kept going. Even after I told you how I felt. Even after I asked you to be mine. You rated the date that same night, didn’t you? What was it—an eight? A nine? Was it good content at least?”

Your throat closed up.

“I was falling for you,” you whispered. “I still am.”

He laughed—a harsh, humorless sound. “Too late. You already wrote the ending.”

You took a step forward, and he took one back.

“Don’t. Don’t look at me like that. Like you’re the one who’s heartbroken. You wrote this story, Y/N. You chose the arc. And now you get to live with the ending,” Mingyu’s voice cracked, and for a second, just a second, you saw it. The pain. The betrayal buried under all that rage. The way his eyes shone—not with hate, but heartbreak.

With all the noise you noticed that Seungcheol had stepped out of his bedroom to see what the commotion was about. 

You wanted to reach for him.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

You saw how they all looked at you–their expressions cold, unreadable, like they didn’t even recognize you anymore. You bent down slowly, the weight of the moment pressing on your spine, and collected your scattered things. 

“Mingyu…” you whispered, one last attempt.

But it was Seungcheol who answered, you didn’t even know when he left his room to join the commotion he heard outside.  his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “Leave. For your own good, leave.”

You nodded. Numb. Ashamed. You turned without another word and closed the door behind you.

The second it clicked shut, the tears came fast and merciless. You barely made it down the hallway before they overwhelmed you, hot and humiliating. By the time you stumbled into your own apartment, your face was blotchy, your breaths short and uneven.

You didn’t laugh. You couldn’t.

“Well?” Joshua asked softly.

“He’s done with me,” you choked, “and please, if you can spare me the I told you so lecture—” But the rest of the sentence never made it out. It dissolved into broken sobs as you crumpled into Joshua’s chest. His arms wrapped tightly around you without hesitation, while Wonwoo just let out a sigh of disappointment. 

They didn’t say much that night. There wasn’t much to say.

You were silent through dinner. Silent through the movie Joshua tried to put on to distract you. Silent even when you crawled into bed hours later, the covers pulled over your head like they could shield you from the reality you’d created.

It had only been a day since it happened, but already the weight of it sat on your chest like a brick.

~~

The next afternoon, as you walked home from work — eyes bleary and head pounding — you spotted Seokmin across the street. He didn’t wave. Just kept walking. You jogged across to meet him.

“Seokmin,” you called, a little breathless. “Please, I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

Seokmin turned, slow and stiff. His face was unreadable at first, then slowly twisted into something sharper. “Just go back to pretending you never knew us, yeah?” he muttered. “You’ve done enough damage.”

You swallowed hard, heart lurching. “Will he ever forgive me?”

Seokmin’s jaw tightened. “Who knows. You don’t deserve it. But if you’re lucky… he’ll forget you.”

You blinked back the sting in your eyes. But Seokmin didn’t wait for your response. He shook his head in disgust, walked up the steps to their apartment, and slammed the door in your face.

You stood there for a long time. Just breathing. Just trying not to fall apart again.

~~

You hadn’t expected anyone at your door that afternoon, so when you opened it and were met with a stranger, you were already bracing to explain you weren’t in the mood for conversation. But then she smiled politely and said. “Hi, oh shit you’re not Mingyu, I must have the wrong apartment. ”

You blinked, as a beautiful woman with soft curls, glossy lips, familiar doe-eyed charm greeted you outside your door. 

“You’re looking for Mingyu?” You asked, your voice flatter than intended.

“Yup!” She said, eyes lighting up. 

You nodded slowly, lips pressed tight. “Yeah. The doors look the same.” 

Before she could respond, the door across the hall swung open. “Hey, baby,” Mingyu’s voice floated out, smooth and warm like nothing had happened. “Sorry, I disturbed your neighbor. All the doors look the same.”

The girl giggled and practically leapt into his arms.

“Missed me?” She asked.

Mingyu smirked at her, eyes flicking up to meet yours for a second. That smile you once thought was just for you felt like a blade this time. “Let me show you how much,” he said, pulling her into his apartment.

“Mingyu, I’m sorry,” you said quietly, not knowing why you did. Reflex, maybe. Hope, maybe.

He rolled his eyes and let out a scoff, the door slamming shut before you could get another word out.

You closed your own door gently, like the sound might shatter you if it echoed too loud.

“Y/N?” You turned to find Wonwoo entering the living room. You hadn’t even heard him come up behind you.

“He has a girl over. He’s moving on. And I...” Your voice cracked before you could finish. The lump in your throat grew too big, too fast.

Wonwoo stepped closer, placing the groceries down and wrapping his arms around you. You leaned in, too exhausted to pretend you weren’t breaking anymore.

“I need to fix this,” you whispered into his sweater.

Wonwoo let out a slow sigh as he pulled back. “Or you could just let it go,” he said gently. “Mia wasn’t impressed by it either.”

You stepped away from him, frustration bubbling up beneath your grief. “Who told you to tell her?”

“I didn’t,” Wonwoo replied, his tone calm but stern. “She asked. And you think she wouldn’t have heard it from the others? I told her what happened, and yeah—she got mad. Not just at you. At me too. She’s upset you hurt someone like him.”

You closed your eyes. “I didn’t mean to. I just—I wanted to fall for him. I wanted to try. And I did.”

“Then let him heal,” Wonwoo said quietly. “Maybe he’ll come back to you.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then maybe it means he’s not supposed to.”

You nodded slowly, the ache in your chest pulsing harder. ~~

You had been chased out of your apartment by Joshua, something about you moping and crying killed aura, and plus he said you needed to get out. So while you where in the grocery store, you didn’t expect to see Mingyu. You certainly didn’t expect him to catch you staring at a magazine with the poster from the movie How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. ​​Because that was you. You were Andie Anderson, and you’d lost him. Not in ten days, but close enough. You reached out for the magazine, maybe just to laugh at the irony.

“That’s rich.” The familiar voice hit you like a slap. You turned to find Mingyu standing a few feet away, arms crossed, a smirk that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Looking for more inspiration to screw someone over?” His voice was sharp, slicing through the aisle like a whip.

You turned slowly, heart already sinking. “No. I wasn’t.”

He glanced pointedly at the magazine. “Actually, the funny thing is—you didn’t even need ten days.”

You didn’t answer, just grabbed a basket and kept moving. Mingyu stayed behind for a moment, then stepped up beside you. “You tried to see how long it’d take for you to like me. You lost me instead. Ironic, huh?”

You flinched, but didn’t stop. You just grabbed your milk, turned toward the cashier.

By the time you paid, rain had started pouring outside like some kind of melodramatic movie set. Your umbrella was sitting back at your apartment. Of course.

“Fuck,” you muttered, arms full of groceries, glaring at the downpour like you could will it away.

“Need a ride?”

You turned around slowly. Mingyu. Hands in pockets, shoulders tense.

You shook your head. “I’ll wait.”

“It’s going to pour for hours. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

Mingyu grabbed the bags from your arms anyway. “This is not an inconvenience, you dating me for an article and breaking my heart? That was an inconvenience.”

You followed him out in silence, too tired to fight.

The drive was quiet, tense. The rain drummed on the roof like it was keeping time with your heartbeat.

“I’m not writing the article anymore,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

Mingyu didn’t look at you. “Because you didn’t get enough content?”

You looked down at your hands. “Because it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I don’t care if you write it or not,” he muttered. “I don’t care about anything that involves you anymore.”

You nodded, throat burning.

“I didn’t mean to let it go that far,” you whispered.

“Don’t,” Mingyu said, his voice suddenly small. “Just don’t.”

You shrank into your seat.

“She’s pretty,” you said after a moment. “That girl. She seems light. Happy, and pretty.”

Mingyu said nothing, eyes fixed on the road. But he tightened his grip on the wheel.

You glanced down, feeling foolish, and reached out to rest a hand over his. He flinched.

You pulled away instantly.

“I can carry my bags,” you said.

“I know,” Mingyu replied. But he still walked you all the way to your apartment and didn’t say another word.

~~The elevator ride was agonizingly silent, save for the soft hum of movement and the rhythmic buzz of the floor numbers lighting up. You didn’t dare look at Mingyu, not when your reflection in the metallic doors already looked wrecked enough. His jaw was tight, eyes fixed on a spot just above your head like if he made eye contact, he’d combust.

The ding of your floor felt more like a punch to the gut. You stepped out, expecting him to turn around and go, but he didn’t. He followed you.

“Mingyu?” You asked softly, turning to look at him as you unlocked your door. His arms were full of your groceries, but it wasn’t the gesture that threw you. It was the fact that he looked more exhausted than angry now—like he'd screamed himself hoarse in silence, and only ashes were left.

He didn’t answer. Just walked past you once the door opened and placed the bags gently on the kitchen counter. You watched him, unsure what to do. Unsure how much space to give someone who already felt galaxies away.

“Oh uh you-,” you said after a beat, trying to sound firm but it came out smaller than intended.

“Save it, I’m just dropping this off,” Mingyu replied without looking at you. “I’m just dropping this off.”

He lingered by the door, hands in his jacket pockets now, as if grounding himself. “Do you… want anything?” You asked, and it felt like asking a stranger if they needed water before they left your home forever.

He looked up at you then, and for a second, you saw something. Sadness? Regret? Longing? You weren’t sure. It flickered across his face and disappeared before you could name it.

“I wanted to hate you, you know?” He said, voice low. “That night, I really thought I could. But then I remembered everything else. The way you’d smile at me when you thought I wasn’t looking. The way you’d write things down when you were nervous. The way your voice always cracked just a little when you were excited. You didn’t make it easy.”

You swallowed hard, tears already welling again. “So you don’t hate me?”

Mingyu shook his head. “No. I think that’s what makes this worse.”

Your breath hitched. “Then what now?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I still can’t look at you without remembering that I was just another chapter in a story you were writing. Whether or not it became real for you, I’ll never stop wondering if it ever started that way.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Every word felt like another nail into your chest, and you weren’t sure if it was guilt or grief that made your throat ache more.

“I should go,” he said quietly, already stepping backward toward the door. “But for what it’s worth, I hope the story was worth it.”

“Mingyu, wait—” you called out as he turned the doorknob, but he shook his head.

“Don’t,” he said, not unkindly. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Determined to show how much you cared for him, you still continued to speak. “I really hope that she makes you happy; you deserve it. I’m so sorry.”

Mingyu looked at you then—really looked. But there was no softness in his gaze, no flicker of the man who once spooned you in his sleep just to be closer.

He stepped away from your reach, disgust curling on his face like it physically hurt him to see you cry.

“I hope that you never find love, Y/N.”

 He said it low, like a curse.

“Because you don’t deserve it.”

The door clicked shut with all the finality of a goodbye you weren’t ready to accept.

You stood in your kitchen, surrounded by your groceries, heart pounding in your ears and chest aching. You didn’t even realize you’d started crying until the sound of your own sob cracked through the silence.

Then he was gone. The door slammed shut before you could blink, and you stood there, a hand still reaching out for him like some pathetic remnant of a memory. The sob left your throat before you could stop it, and this time you didn’t bother to wipe it away.

You didn’t deserve to.

~~

The next morning, your eyes were puffy, your voice hoarse, and your heart too hollow to carry the weight of your body properly. You dragged yourself into the office anyway, needing the distraction, needing something to hold onto.

Keira spotted you before you could slip past her.

“Y/N, can I speak to you?”

You stopped, wincing. God, you weren’t ready for another confrontation.

“Hey,” you muttered as you stepped into her office.

“Can you shut the door behind you?” She asked gently.

Your stomach dropped. “Please don’t fire me,” you said with a half-laugh, though it came out far more desperate than funny.

Keira softened. “Honey, I’m not going to fire you. I’m calling you in because I’m concerned. You look like you haven’t slept in days. And you scrapped the article?”

You sank into the chair across from her, shoulders folding inward like you were bracing for impact.

“It’s a long story.”

Keira studied you for a moment, then reached for her purse.

“Okay, how’s this? We skip the desks and head to the bar across the street. You tell me everything over a very strong drink. My treat.”

You blinked at her. That small gesture—kindness without demand—was enough to make your throat tighten.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’d really like that.”

And for the first time in days, you felt a flicker of something that almost resembled relief.

~~

“So,” Keira said, finishing off her drink and eyeing your fourth glass like it personally offended her. “Do you like him?”

You didn’t even hesitate. You nodded, your fingers curled tightly around the rim of your glass as though the condensation might cool down the burn behind your eyes. “Yeah,” you said quietly, “I do.”

Keira leaned her chin into her palm, her eyes narrowing as she watched you. “Then go get him.”

You laughed. It wasn’t a pretty sound. “He told me I don’t deserve love.” You stared down into your drink. “And maybe he’s not wrong. I hurt him.”

“Sweetheart,” Keira said, straightening her spine, “you did a stupid thing. A spectacularly dumb thing. But that boy likes you, and he’s bleeding all over you because he’s hurt, not because he doesn’t care.” She reached out and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “Don’t give up on him just because he’s angry.”

But her words barely reached you. Your mind was elsewhere—caught in the sound of his laughter, in the way he used to absentmindedly brush your hair behind your ear, the warmth in his voice when he called you by your name like it meant something.

You blinked, and suddenly you were crying.

“Hey, no tears tonight,” Keira said quickly, passing you a tissue from her purse. “Drinks first, tears later.”

It was a promise you failed to keep.

Two more drinks in, and you were barely standing. Keira kissed your cheek and called you a cab, but you insisted on taking the bus. Said something about needing to “feel things.” You weren’t sure what that meant now. By the time you reached your apartment building, you were too drunk to even recognize your floor. You stumbled into the elevator and prayed to whatever higher power existed that your key would match the door.

You cursed under your breath as your keys jangled uselessly in the lock. “Why won’t you open?” you muttered, knees buckling as you reached forward again—and missed. Your balance tipped, your body about to crash into the floor when strong arms caught you mid-fall.

Your head lolled against a familiar chest.

“Y/N,” Mingyu said, sighing. “You’re trying to break into my apartment.”

You blinked up at him, all wide eyes and bright smile. “This isn’t mine?”

“No it’s not,” he said, dragging a hand down his face. “Come on. You’re drunk.”

“I’m allowed to be drunk,” you mumbled stubbornly.

“It’s literally seven p.m.”

You beamed. “Then I’m very early.”

Mingyu didn’t laugh. He groaned, lifting you with ease and carrying you into his apartment. “You’re lucky Seokmin and Seungcheol aren’t home,” he muttered. “They’d kill you for this.”

You let your head fall against his shoulder. “They’d have to catch me first.”

He sat you down on his bed and fetched a glass of water. “Drink. Please.”

You did as told, the cold water clearing your throat but not your thoughts. The alcohol had cracked your walls open, and guilt was spilling out in waves. “I shouldn’t be here,” you whispered.

“No kidding,” he replied, but his voice was gentler than his words.

“I don’t deserve you, or your kindness, or your stupid soft hoodies.”

Mingyu knelt in front of you, jaw tightening as he watched your face crumble.

“Your eyes are really sparkly,” you said, reaching out to touch his cheek. He flinched—just slightly—and the movement sliced right through you.

“I should go,” you whispered, making a shaky attempt to stand. You wobbled, and his hands shot out instinctively to steady you.

“Okay, let’s just get you lying down before you face-plant.”

You groaned. “I need to shower. I’ll just sleep naked. It’s fine.”

“You are absolutely not sleeping naked in my apartment,” he muttered, ears turning red.

You grinned, delighted by his discomfort. “You used to love when I was naked.”

“And now I just want you clothed and far away from my fragile self-respect.”

Eventually, he helped you to the bathroom. You showered—sloppily, messily, shampoo probably still in your hair. But you got through it. You managed to step out, towel clutched around you, and found him waiting exactly where he said he’d be—on the edge of your bed.

“See?” You mumbled. “Didn’t die.”

But the joke didn’t land. Not when you looked at him and remembered everything. The notebook. His shattered expression. The sound of his voice when he told you to leave.

“Mingyu?” You whispered, voice suddenly small.

He didn’t look at you. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

There it was. The truth. Raw and exposed and echoing through the air like an apology too late to be heard.

He turned slowly, his expression unreadable. “Seokmin said you’d never earn my forgiveness. But maybe, with enough luck, I’d forget you.”

You swallowed thickly. “Can you?”

“No,” he admitted, voice cracking. “I’ll never forget you. But forgive you?” He shook his head. “That’s something I don’t think I have in me.”

You nodded, and even as he stood and walked to the door, even as he didn’t look back, you whispered a soft. “I get it.”

Mingyu didn’t see the tears that fell the second the door closed behind him. But he heard the sound of your sob breaking the silence, and it tore him apart to keep walking.

~~“Oh, Y/N,” Keira sighed, tapping her mug against yours as the two of you sat in the quiet corner booth of your favorite café on a dreary Monday morning. “You’ve got it bad for him.”

You gave her a wry smile as you swirled your tea. “Yeah, well… that makes two of us, apparently.”

Keira raised an eyebrow, already sensing the storm brewing in your voice. “I have some news that’s probably going to ruin your morning.” You glanced up sharply. “Do not freak out,” she warned, glancing toward the main entrance of your office.

“What?” You asked, heartbeat stuttering. You turned—and froze.

Mingyu.

He walked in like he belonged there, tall and calm in his oversized hoodie, camera bag slung over his shoulder. Your stomach twisted into a knot.

“What the fuck,” you whispered under your breath.

Keira quickly stood and put on her most professional smile. “Mingyu, welcome! This is my main feature writer; I believe you’ve read her work?”

He nodded, eyes on you. “Yeah. Sandy Beaches.” His lips twitched at the name, and you wanted to murder Joshua for convincing you to use a beach pun as your pen name.

Mingyu turned to you, his voice clipped. “So, neighbor. You ready to do the artist spotlight on up-and-coming photographers?”

Keira let out a nervous laugh, clearly sensing the tension. “Okay, I’ll leave you two to it.” She bolted.

You led Mingyu to your office, conscious of every footstep behind you. The second the door closed, you rounded on him.

“What the hell is this?” you hissed.

He leaned casually against the wall. “Before you get mad, I was contacted the day of my showcase about doing a feature. I thought it’d be... ironic, you know? My girlfriend writing about me.”

“You know I can reassign this—”

“I don’t care,” he cut in coldly. “You write well. It’s just a profile. I figured I could survive your presence for an hour.”

You swallowed hard, voice softening. “I’ll need to see your work.”

He gave a humorless chuckle. “You already have. Remember the night you agreed to be my girlfriend? That was me, in my element.”

You said nothing. Guilt chewed away at your insides.

“Anyway,” Mingyu continued, “you know more about me than anyone else on staff. Do a decent job. Unless you’re planning to spin this into a tragic tale of the stupid boy who thought he was worth something.”

“Mingyu,” you sighed. “I didn’t lie.”

“No?” he snapped, pushing off the wall. “Then what do you call it?”

You didn’t answer.

“I came in as a formality for your boss,” he continued. “Not for you. You know enough—write your fluff piece, send it off, and we’ll both pretend it’s the end.”

He didn’t wait for a response as he walked out, slamming the door behind him.

~~

You were exhausted from the day’s emotional whiplash and stayed late at the office to avoid running into anyone. By the time you arrived home, it was well past midnight.

The elevator doors creaked open and you stepped out, only to be met with the sound of moaning echoing down the hallway. You frowned, pausing mid-step.

“Harder,” someone panted.

Your stomach dropped.

Your eyes followed the sound—and there she was. That same girl from who knocked on your door by mistake, the girl Mingyu was moving on with, pressed against the hallway wall, legs wrapped around Mingyu’s waist. His back was to you, hands gripping her thighs. Her head lolled back in bliss.

“Gyu, stop. Someone’s here,” she giggled.

“It’s okay,” he muttered. “She’s nobody.”

You blinked. And then you ran—into your apartment, slamming the door shut before the tears could fall. “Oh hi guys,” you greeted Joshua and Jihoon once you entered your apartment, and Jihoon simply stared at–correction–through you.  

Joshua looked up from his laptop. “You okay?”

You tried to smile. It cracked at the corners. “I guess being forgotten feels worse than being hated.”

Jihoon sat up straighter, jaw tightening. “So that’s why you’re mad? Because you hurt someone and now you have to watch them move on?”

“Jihoon,” Joshua warned quietly.

“No, I’m serious,” Jihoon snapped. “You don’t get to stomp on someone and then cry when they refuse to crawl back to you.”

You clenched your jaw, the shame burning under your skin. “I didn’t ask for a lecture.”

“Well, you’re getting one,” Jihoon stood. “Mingyu is like a little brother to me. I didn’t say anything because Joshua begged me not to. Said you were a good person. But I don’t see it.”

That was enough.

You turned without another word and left your apartment, ignoring Joshua’s calls. The hallway was empty—thank god. You slipped out the building and found the nearest bar.

By your second glass of wine, the edges had dulled just enough to stop shaking.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called out.

You turned. Soonyoung, another one of Mingyu’s friend.

The only time you’d spoken was at the party months ago.

“Or should I say... heartless?” He said with a crooked grin.

You exhaled. “Hi, Soonyoung.”

He slid into the booth across from you. “Sorry, I just needed to get that out of the way. You don’t look great.”

“I’m not.”

He eyed your wine glass. “You drinking alone?”

“Apparently, that’s all I’m good for.”

Soonyoung watched you, head tilting. “Why did you do it? Why write about love like it’s a science experiment?”

You shrugged. “I guess I was scared. Falling for someone the normal way felt… too easy. Too vulnerable.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, well. You broke the rules. And now you’re stuck trying to rewrite an ending that was already perfect.”

You blinked down at your glass, throat tight.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” you said quietly.

“Okay, and why didn’t you tell him that? Like say something like hey I think I sort of have some feelings for you, but I want to go on a few dates to solidify them?” You sighed, dragging your finger around the rim of your empty glass. “Hindsight is clearly not my friend.”

Soonyoung nodded slowly. “So why are you here?”

You shrugged. “Well, I saw Mingyu with his fingers deep inside another girl, and he acted like I wasn’t even there. Then Jihoon, I guess, said what he wanted to.”

Soonyoung winced. “Yikes.”

“Why are you here?” You asked, frowning slightly.

“Just wanted to use their restrooms, and I saw you, so I decided to come by and grill you,” he replied, lips quirking. “Look, before I go—what you did was really fucked. But did you like him?”

You nodded wordlessly.

“I still do.”

Soonyoung sighed and leaned forward. “Then tell him. Be creative. Tell him until he acknowledges it. I’m not saying he’ll forgive you, but he’ll feel less like an idiot.”

You stared at the condensation slipping down your glass. “Why are you helping me?”

“I’m not,” he said. “I’m trying to help my buddy find some comfort in knowing that he’s someone worth loving, and not just a catchy headline.” Soonyoung sighed and then spoke again. “Y/N, just don’t wait too long if you really do like him. Before someone else writes the ending for you. Anyways, I think the staff here can tell I’m not a patron, so I’ll see you around, I guess. Take care!”

You watched him go, and when the door shut behind him, you realized just how quiet the bar had gotten. And how late it was. You’d lost track of time—again.

The chill in the air greeted you the moment you stepped outside, and it sank in just how far from home you really were. You turned a corner, tried to retrace your steps, but your stomach dropped when none of the streets looked familiar.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

You fumbled for your phone and called the one person you shouldn’t.

“Hello?” “Mingyu.” Your voice was small, unsure. “Hi, I know you hate me, but I… I’m lost.”

A groan crackled through the speaker. “You—”

“No, never mind. I’m sorry for bothering you,” you blurted, ending the call before he could say anything else.

Your screen dimmed before the app you opened for a taxi could even load. Your phone powered off completely in your hands.

“Fucking wonderful.”

You sat down on a nearby bench, staring into the dark, unsure if you should wait it out until morning or hope that someone—anyone—might pass by.

Just as your thoughts started spiraling and panic bloomed in your chest, a voice cut through the silence.

“Hey.”

You turned with a jolt, nearly jumping to your feet. But there they were—Mingyu’s familiar doe eyes, breath visible in the cold air. “So you hung up, and it was a real struggle to find you and I…” Mingyu trailed off, startled when you suddenly wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight.

“You okay?” He asked softly. His arms didn’t move to return the hug.

You stepped back, cheeks flushing. “How did you find me?”

“I assumed you’d gone drinking,” Mingyu said, his voice low, careful. “Soonyoung-hyung texted me, said he saw you at that bar. I just traced my steps.”

You nodded, brushing the back of your hand across your eyes.

“Come on, let’s go back,” he murmured, guiding you toward his car. The silence between you was heavy, but not hostile.

When you reached the car, he hesitated before opening the passenger door for you.

“Hey, um… nothing happened, right? Like, no one tried to hurt you?” He asked as he slid into the driver’s seat.

You shook your head. “I’m okay.”

Mingyu nodded. “I’m sorry for what you saw earlier.”

You bit your lip. “No… I mean. We aren’t together. And I hurt you. So, it’s only fair.”

“No, it’s not.” His tone turned sharp. “That’s fucking toxic, and I’m sorry. We were just caught up in the moment. I didn’t even realise until I saw your face.”

You looked out the window. “Do you like her?”

He shrugged. “Don’t think I’ve been on enough dates yet.”

You winced. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he repeated. “I just meant… it’s too soon to tell with her.”

You took a breath. “I knew. With you.”

Mingyu froze. His hands tightened around the wheel as he pulled over.

“What?” You turned to him, your heart thudding. “I knew I felt something for you. I knew it when I saw Mia and I got jealous. I got jealous of the rock climbing receptionist and then that girl you’re dating now. No one gets jealous unless they care.”

Mingyu’s jaw ticked. “Why are you telling me this now?”

You sighed. “Because I should’ve said it when it mattered. Because I miss you. And I hate that I ruined it.”

He didn’t say anything, but the crack in his silence was louder than any words.

~~

The ride back to the apartment was silent, heavy with everything left unsaid. When Mingyu pulled into the lot, the car barely came to a full stop before you unbuckled and got out. You didn’t wait for him, didn’t speak—just walked briskly toward the front of the building, your heels clicking against the pavement like punctuation to every aching beat of your heart.

You didn’t expect him to follow. But when you reached the elevator and hit the button, you caught a brief glance over your shoulder—and there he was. Mingyu, leaning slightly against the railing, his hands shoved into his pockets, his face unreadable. For a second, your eyes locked. No words were exchanged, but something passed between you—an unspoken permission, a quiet nudge.

You took it as a sign and stepped into the elevator. When he joined you seconds later, the air between you thickened, pressing against your chest like gravity.

The elevator ride was short, but the silence felt infinite.

Neither of you said a word as you reached the hallway. Mingyu unlocked his door, then paused—just for a breath—before stepping inside. He left it open. You followed.

His apartment looked the same, but everything felt different.

Mingyu didn’t look at you when he spoke. “I need you to know that every single emotion I felt with you was real,” he said softly, his back still to you. “Every time you kissed me, it felt like fireworks. Every time you hugged me, I felt safe. And every time we—” He paused, his voice catching. “It wasn’t just sex. It felt like a journey. You made me feel special every time I was with you.”

You swallowed. “Mingyu, I made a stupid mistake. But I wanted to fall for you… because I knew there was something there. I just—I went about it the wrong way. I was scared. But you? You’re someone worth loving. Not just… someone worth writing about.”

He turned around at that, slowly. His eyes scanned your face like he was searching for the lie.

“Are you just pushing me into forgiving you?” He asked, but there was more pain than malice in his voice.

You shook your head. “No. I just don’t want what I did to affect how you see yourself. What I did was on me, not on you.”

For a flicker of a second, you saw something shift in him—like your words hit somewhere tender. But then he stepped forward, and the moment shattered.

“Oh, really?” Mingyu scoffed. “Me? Affected? I’m the one getting laid. Not you.” His words came out harsher than intended, bitterness rising. “Fuck, has anyone ever even wanted you? Approached you? Your ex cheated on you,  even Wonwoo Hyung avoided you—he warned me, you know? He knew you were a ticking time bomb.”

You flinched. Your stomach twisted.

“And I still fucking fell for you,” Mingyu said, voice rising. “Ten dates. Don’t worry I’m over i, clearly, I don’t care, because not too long ago, my fingers were inside another girl.” He said it like a weapon, wielded cruelly, “She was tight. Fuck. Her body was—”

“Enough,” you said, barely a whisper, but Mingyu stopped. Like he finally heard himself.

You turned away and made a move to leave his apartment. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Mingyu asked, eyes wide.

You didn’t answer, just tried to get out of his apartment. 

“Y/N! Fucking stop.”

You froze as Mingyu walked up behind. “Y/N,” he said again, softer now, “look at me.”

You didn’t move.

“Y/N. Look at me.”

You slowly turned your face toward him. His expression was crumbling.

“I know I crossed a line. What I just said… it was cruel, and I didn’t mean it. As toxic as it is, I just wanted to hurt you, the way you hurt me, but I went too far.”

You held your hand out to stop him. “I fucked up, Mingyu. I know that what I did is unforgivable. I want to thank you for tonight. I don’t deserve your kindness. I’ll have your artist profile written and sent to you for your kind perusal in a week.”

“Y/N—”

You smiled, and Mingyu could see the tears threatening to fall. “Goodnight, Mingyu,” you whispered, leaving his apartment, walking across the hall and entering your own apartment, and closing the door behind you. 

He stood there long after the door closed, your words hanging in the air like smoke.

~~

“Y/N? You’ve got a visitor,” Joshua called out, poking his head into your bedroom the next morning. You were freshly showered, curled up in your robe, sipping on kombucha when you caught sight of a familiar figure hovering behind him.

“Oh.” You blinked. Mingyu.

“Can he stay, or do we not like him today?” Joshua asked, squinting at Mingyu like he was trying to summon a glare.

“He can stay,” you replied, quietly.

Joshua nodded. “Alright. But if I hear her cry, I’m calling Wonwoo Hyung to hurt you.”

“Why not you?” Mingyu asked, brow lifting.

Joshua shrugged. “Your stupid golden retriever face makes it hard to stay mad. I can’t hit a puppy.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shua.”

“I’m going. Holler if you need me.” He winked, disappearing into the hallway.

You gestured toward the bed. “You can sit. I won’t bite.”

“You seem better,” Mingyu said, stepping inside and cautiously sitting down beside you. His eyes scanned your face, your posture—like he was trying to read how much of your recovery was real.

“Getting there,” you lied, sipping your drink. “You gave me closure last night, so I guess now I just… learn and heal.”

That lie tasted bitter. You weren’t over him. You weren’t even close.

“Really?” Mingyu asked, his expression tightening. “You got over me so quickly?”

You shook your head, voice soft. “No. I just… I’m leaving you alone.”

He looked down, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Look I’m so fucking sorry for what I said, I was being spiteful. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said about her. Or… you.”

You gave him a small nod. You didn’t know what to say to that.

Silence stretched between you until Mingyu glanced around the room and started to get up. “Okay. I guess I should go?”

But he didn’t leave. Instead, he took a hesitant step toward you and knelt on the edge of your bed. His hand brushed your cheek—light as a whisper—and you froze.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. “Truly.”

Then, just like that, he was gone. His hand pulled away. His body retreated. And he rushed out of your room like a man on fire, leaving you stunned, confused, and just a little less miserable.

~~

The following evening, you were sprawled on the couch in your favorite hoodie, arms crossed stubbornly as House Hunters played in the background at low volume. The sunlight had long since dipped behind the skyline, casting a moody blue over the apartment. You hadn’t moved in hours — not since Mia’s party invite had come through the group chat.

“You’re going,” Wonwoo said, nudging your foot with his knee as he walked past holding a bowl of popcorn.

You didn’t even look up. “Absolutely not.”

He sat down on the edge of the coffee table, facing you. “Come on.”

“I’d rather attend my own funeral,” you muttered.

“Dramatic,” he said, popping a kernel into his mouth. “It’s not her wedding, it’s a party. Mingyu will be there. Your friends will be there.”

“Only you and Shua, no one else wants me there.”

Wonwoo tilted his head. “You can’t avoid everything that makes you uncomfortable.” “Mia does,” Wonwoo tried to lie. 

You rolled your eyes at him “that’s because she’s dating you and she cares about you.” 

“I’m not avoiding,” you snapped. “I’m choosing peace.”

“That’s funny, because you look like a woman actively losing her mind in a hoodie cocoon.”

You finally sat up, scowling. “I’m just not ready to go to a party where everyone knows I screwed up.”

Wonwoo gave you a pointed look. “Everyone screws up. But only some people decide to marinate in guilt like a mopey rotisserie chicken.”

“That’s a terrible metaphor,” you muttered.

“Still worked.”

You rolled your eyes and reached for a throw pillow to hug. “Wonwoo, what if he’s there and just—ignores me? What if Mia says something? What if I cry into someone’s jungle juice?”

“Then you cry. But at least you’re not crying alone on a couch watching reruns of sad real estate couples.” He leaned forward, voice softer. “You’re allowed to show up for yourself. Even if it’s awkward. Especially when it’s awkward.”

You stared at him, torn. “Ugh. Why are you good at pep talks?”

“Because I know you,” he said with a small smile. “And you hate feeling left out more than you hate confrontation.”

“God, I hate when you’re right.”

“And yet you listen every time.”

You took his hand. “I’m blaming you if this ends in disaster.”

Wonwoo smirked. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” ~~

Later that evening you were in full panic mode. 

“Wonwoo, I can’t do this. Everyone there hates me,” you groaned as he paced around your living room.

“Oh also, plans changed, Mia needs help so you need to go yourself,” Wonwoo said sheepishly 

“What the hell, no I’ll be walking into a lions den!” 

He shrugged. “Jihoon and Joshua are already there setting up. Mia’s with me. So yeah, it’s just you. Good luck.” And with that, he ducked out the door before you could protest.

You knew you’d have to face the crowd, you decided to suck it up and get dressed. 

You chose your silk blue dress—short, elegant, and dangerous. The kind that hugged all the right curves. You were slipping on your heels when someone knocked on the door.

“It’s open,” you called out.

“Hey. Oh—wow,” Mingyu muttered, stepping inside. The words slipped out before he could stop them, and you instantly felt your cheeks warm under the weight of his gaze.

You cleared your throat. “Uh hi?”

He smiled faintly. “Mia’s party. Seokmin and Cheol are already there setting up. I figured… maybe we could share a ride?”

You hesitated. “Isn’t your date going with you?”

He shook his head. “Yeah… she’s not really relevant anymore. Turns out I was just the decoy to make her ex jealous. She got him back.”

He let out a short laugh. “Guess I’ve got that ‘easy to fuck over’ vibe.”

You didn’t say anything, but your silence was loud.

Mingyu glanced at you. “Anyway. I called us a cab. You ready?”

You nodded.

~~

The cab ride to the party was quieter than expected. Not awkward, not tense—just quiet. Mingyu sat beside you, elbow on the window, tapping a soft rhythm against the glass. You stared ahead, feeling the buzz of anticipation, dread, and god-knows-what else coiling in your stomach like a tightened spring.

“You look amazing, by the way,” Mingyu said suddenly, breaking the silence.

You glanced at him, caught off guard. “Thank you.”

He smiled at the floor of the car, like he didn’t quite know what to do with your voice.

When you both arrived, the apartment was already buzzing. The bass of the music thumped low through the walls, and there was a faint glow from the string lights Seokmin had insisted on. You could hear laughter, someone singing off-key, and the gentle hum of people who weren’t thinking about you at all.

“Ready?” Mingyu asked, already stepping out and circling to open your door.

You paused. “Not even a little.”

He chuckled. “Same.”

The second you stepped in, all heads turned. Not because of you—no, definitely not just you—but because of you and Mingyu, together. He was in all black, stupidly tall and maddeningly handsome, and you were in a dress that had already gotten three glances and a whisper before you’d made it past the entryway.

You felt the pressure of every gaze crawling up your spine. Your hand brushed Mingyu’s by accident. He didn’t flinch, but he didn’t reach back either.

“Hey!” Seokmin grinned, running over, arms already halfway to a hug before he remembered. “Right, hi.”

“Hi,” you replied awkwardly.

“Come on Mingyu, party’s started,” Seokmin said guiding Mingyu, and reluctantly you to the bar.

Mingyu gave him a nod before grabbing a drink from the bar and handing you one without asking.

“I thought you might need this.”

You took it gratefully, muttering, “God, yes.”

The night unfolded in slow motion.

Joshua and Jihoon were manning the playlist and playing hype-men near the drinks table. Mia was radiant, bouncing around in a sequin dress, glowing like a mirrorball. Wonwoo hovered at her side like a quiet shadow, until he caught your eye and gave you a small nod.

You raised your glass in a silent toast.

Mingyu disappeared midway through the night, and you let him. You weren’t sure if you were meant to follow, but you didn’t want to look like you were chasing him. You ended up nursing your drink on the balcony, alone with the music and the pulse of memories.

“You okay?”

You turned to see Joshua step out beside you, two drinks in hand.

“Not sure,” you admitted.

He handed you one of the glasses and stared ahead into the city lights. “You’re handling this better than I thought.”

“Only mildly crumbling.”

“Progress.”

You both sipped quietly.

Back inside, you caught sight of Mingyu again—laughing at something Seungcheol said, his head thrown back. That laugh used to belong to you. That laugh used to be something you could earn, like a reward. And now it was just… public domain.

You turned away, heart thudding like a warning.

You hadn’t even noticed someone approaching until you heard the voice.

“Hey, pretty thing. You’re that girl, right? The one Mingyu dated?”

You turned to face a stranger, his breath laced with tequila and whatever cologne he’d bathed in.

“Excuse me?” You asked flatly.

He leaned closer. “I’m just saying, he clearly upgraded. You should see the new one.”

Before you could reply, you felt someone step between you and the guy.

“Walk away,” Mingyu said, low and lethal.

The guy held up his hands. “Alright, alright. Touchy.”

He slinked off, and for a moment it was just you and Mingyu. Again.

“Thanks,” you said, barely above a whisper.

Mingyu’s jaw was tight. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

“I’m getting used to it,” you admitted. “Not being liked very much.”

Mingyu looked at you, really looked at you. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think that.”

You didn’t know what possessed you in that moment—maybe the warmth from the drink, or the weight of his words—but you reached for his hand and found he didn’t pull away.

Instead, he gave it the smallest squeeze.

Just once.

Mingyu didn’t let go of your hand.

He hadn’t meant to hold it in the first place, but when you slipped beside him in that quiet moment by the balcony doors, your fingers brushed his—and he didn’t move. And neither did you.

From inside, the party carried on. Someone shouted about food. The lights shifted warmer. The bassline of an old familiar track pulsed through the floor. But here, in this sliver of quiet between the hallway and the chaos, everything stood still.

Your hand was still in his.

And he was still staring straight ahead, jaw tight, like if he looked at you now, he wouldn’t be able to look away.

“I should go and get some food,” you said finally, barely above a whisper.

But he still didn’t let go.

“I miss you.” The words dropped like a weight between you. Unprepared. Raw.

You turned your head sharply, breath catching in your throat.

“Mingyu—”

“I shouldn’t,” he cut in, eyes still fixed ahead. “I shouldn’t say that. But I do. I fucking miss you.”

Silence.

You looked down at your joined hands, his thumb just barely brushing your knuckle. It felt like fire.

“I never stopped missing you,” you murmured.

He exhaled through his nose, eyes flickering down to the floor. “That makes it worse.”

“I know.”

“I see you, Y/N. At the café, in the elevator, even when you don’t look at me. I still feel like I’m watching the version of you I used to have… and I don’t know how to unsee her.”

You blinked fast, swallowing around the lump rising in your throat. “I’m still her. Just... more broken.”

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” he said, softer this time. “And I don’t know what it says about me that part of me still wants to.”

That hurt.

But you nodded. “I wouldn’t expect you to. I just needed you to know... that none of it was fake. Not a single second.”

Mingyu finally turned his head to look at you. And when he did, the full weight of the ache between you crashed like a wave. The room behind you could’ve gone silent or exploded into flames—you wouldn’t have noticed.

“You made me feel like I was everything,” he whispered, eyes locked on yours. “And then you made me feel like I was nothing.”

You didn’t even realize your hands had tightened together until he pulled away.

“I need air,” he muttered. “There’s food inside.”

And just like that, the warmth of his touch vanished.

You stood still, heart racing, fingers burning in the space where his had just been.

Inside, Mia was mid-toast, giggling through champagne bubbles and surrounded by friends. “To a great group of friends, lets have a great night and make regrettable choices!” She shouted, and the crowd cheered.

You laughed weakly, even as your eyes found him again—across the room now, leaning against the kitchen counter, beer in hand, nodding along to something Wonwoo was saying. He wasn’t looking at you anymore.

But his foot tapped restlessly on the floor.

And you knew he felt it too—the storm, the crack, the pull that hadn’t gone away, no matter how much damage you’d done.

You took a step forward.

Then stopped.

Somewhere between the beat of the music and the hum of the laughter, you realized: this wasn’t the moment. Not yet. He wasn’t ready.

And you… you weren’t sure if your heart could take another hit just yet.

So you turned, smiled at Mia, and raised your glass instead.

But still, in every reflective surface—windows, wine glasses, the shine of the fridge—you kept catching glimpses of him.

And you knew he saw you, too.

~~

You had found a quiet corner near the bar, nestled just far enough from the dance floor to avoid being dragged into conversation, but close enough to still look like you were trying. You sipped your drink slowly, hoping that the low lighting and loud music would blur you into the background.

That hope lasted all of ten minutes.

“Well, well,” a familiar voice drawled behind you. “Look who showed up like she was invited.”

You didn’t even have to turn to know it was Seungcheol. You tensed, your hand tightening around your glass.

“I was invited,” you replied coolly. “Mia said—”

“Mia invited you because Wonwoo wouldn’t stop pushing for it,” Seungcheol cut in, stepping in front of you. “And even then, we all said it was a bad idea.”

You glanced over his shoulder and caught Seokmin standing a few feet away, arms crossed, jaw tight. His expression wasn’t hostile—just cold. Closed off in a way that hurt more than yelling ever could.

“You think just showing up fixes what you did?” Seungcheol asked, voice low enough that no one else around you could hear, but sharp enough to slice. “You think looking pretty and keeping your head down makes it all okay?”

“I didn’t come here to start anything,” you said, eyes flicking down to your drink. “I just wanted to show up for Mia. That’s all.”

“Then show up somewhere else,” Seokmin said finally, stepping forward. “Anywhere but here.”

You blinked, trying to keep your composure, but it was getting harder with every second they kept looking at you like you were a stain on the floor.

“Look, I’m trying to be nice,” Seungcheol added, not quite as kind as his words claimed. “Mostly for Gyu’s sake. But if you’re still here in the next hour, I’m not going to hold back. Got it?”

You gave a small nod, lips pressed together so tightly you could taste the metallic bite of blood from how hard you were biting the inside of your cheek. You didn’t wait for them to say anything else.

You turned on your heel, pushing your way through the crowd, each step heavier than the last.

And then you were outside—air crisp, music muffled behind the walls, and your breath fogging out in short, shallow bursts. You rubbed your hands along your arms, trying to breathe, trying to forget the way Seokmin wouldn’t even look you in the eye.

That’s when you felt it—a hand around your wrist.

You yelped, startled, only to find yourself face-to-face with Mingyu.

“Y/N?” He said, his brows furrowed in concern. “Why did you leave?”

You exhaled shakily. “I wasn’t exactly made to feel welcome,” you muttered, pulling your wrist gently from his hold.

Mingyu blinked. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you whispered, suddenly so tired your bones ached. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place.”

Mingyu stepped closer, voice gentler now. “Wait—Y/N, it’s freezing. You didn’t bring a coat?”

You shook your head. “I’ll get a cab.”

Mingyu frowned, glancing around. “There’s a diner around the corner. Let’s get food? I’ll make sure you get home safe after, I promise.”

You hesitated. “Gyu, you don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to,” he said. “But I want to.”

~~

The fluorescent lights of the diner buzzed quietly above you, a stark contrast to the bass-heavy chaos of the club. The booths were faded vinyl, the menus laminated and slightly sticky, and the warmth inside made you realize just how cold your skin had gone. You were still clutching your arms like a shield, and Mingyu noticed.

“Sit here,” he said, gesturing to a booth in the corner. “It’s quieter.”

You slid into the seat without argument. Mingyu sat across from you, tapping his fingers nervously against the salt shaker before picking up a menu he didn’t bother reading.

The hostess from earlier walked over with a soft smile. “What can I get you two? Drinks to start?”

You opened your mouth, but Mingyu beat you to it. “Hot chocolate. Extra whipped cream, if you’ve got it.”

Your eyes flicked to him, startled.

He offered a small shrug. “You always get hot chocolate when you’re sad.”

You blinked, the lump forming in your throat again. “And for you?” the hostess asked, turning toward him. “Coffee. Black.” He paused, glancing at you. “Unless you want to split something.”

“I’m not really hungry,” you mumbled, looking down at the menu without seeing any of it.

“We’ll share the fries,” he told the waitress softly. “Thanks.”

When she walked away, the silence pressed in between you again, dense and tight. You stared at the table, tracing the ring of condensation left by a glass long since cleared.

“You want to tell me what happened in there?” Mingyu asked eventually.

You hesitated, your voice low. “Seungcheol and Seokmin. They cornered me. Said I wasn’t welcome. That they were being nice for your sake, but if I stayed… it’d get ugly.”

Mingyu leaned back in his seat, jaw tense. “They had no right.”

“They were defending you,” you murmured. “You were hurt. I get it.”

“I can fight my own battles.”

You looked up at him slowly. “Can you?”

That made him pause. He looked tired suddenly, like the weight of everything was finally catching up to him. “I didn’t know they said that to you.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you,” you admitted. “Because I already knew. I knew I didn’t belong there. Not anymore.”

The waitress returned with the hot chocolate and coffee. You wrapped your fingers around the mug, letting the heat seep into your hands.

“You know,” Mingyu said, eyes on his cup, “for a long time, I hated myself for still caring.”

Your heart squeezed.

“I’d see you around and I’d want to yell, or kiss you, or run in the opposite direction. Sometimes all three in the same minute.”

You smiled faintly. “That’s... fair.”

“But tonight, when I saw you outside?” His voice dipped. “You looked so lost. And I didn’t think. I just ran.”

You stared down at your mug, unsure what to say. So instead, you took a sip. Whipped cream clung to your lip, and Mingyu leaned forward, gently swiping it away with his thumb. Your eyes locked for a breath too long.

“You shouldn’t be this nice to me,” you whispered.

“I know.”

“So why are you?”

He gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Because I don’t think I’ve ever stopped hoping you’d surprise me.”

You swallowed hard, heart thudding.

“Are you still angry?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said honestly. “But less than I was yesterday.”

Your lips curved upward slightly. “Progress.”

He nodded, then signaled the waitress for the check. “I’ll get this. And I’ll put you in a cab, like I promised.”

You stood together, walking toward the door in silence. But just before you stepped out into the cold again, Mingyu turned toward you.

“Don’t listen to Seungcheol,” he said. “You weren’t unwanted.”

With that, he opened the door, walked you up to your apartment like a gentleman, and bid you goodnight.

You could only hope that tonight was the start of healing for you both.

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Hi DarkLord, just finished reading through all the asks now you have the master list. (Holy cow there's a lot more of them than I thought) and something you said in the replies of one caught my attention. On the Shifter Stan v.s. Jurassic Park ask you mentioned that Stan also wizard drugged Fiddleford. I have follow-up questions.

How does Fidds react when he finds out? How does Tate react? Does Stan also end up wizard drugging Tate? Is that before or after they find out Fidds is (arguably) immortal now? How does Emma-May feel about the fact her husband (and maybe son) are immortal, but she doesnt get to have the cool wizard drug immortality experience as a direct result of her Dino Crimes?

What does Shifty think about. Any of the immortality nonsense?

Hello Art Fox! (Yes, there were so many. I went through my archive and looked at every single ask since november of 2024. My brain hurt)

You know Fiddleford was enraged that Stan drugged him, then built a robot about it. Stan only drugged the two Fords, as he wasn't going to let Ford die before him and he thought Fiddleford was his boyfriend/secret husband and no one corrected it until it was already too late and Stan just looked away from the fact he'd already extended Fiddlefords lifespan at that point. He's already accepted that he'll outlive most of the humans he likes, he just couldn't accept Ford being one of them. Emma-May is very jealous, and demands wizard potions as well. Except then she'd be an old lady for ages, and Tate did a firm "if you drug me, i'll never talk to you again" and Shifty has healthy enough relationships with others he never pushed the issue, so if she went immortal (not really, its just an extra 200ish years) then she'd outlive him and also be old.

A hard choice really.

Shifty did not push the wizard potion on Tate, as he's had a much healthier upbringing and didn't cling to him like a barnacle the way Stan and Ford do with each other. He'll be sad once Tate goes, but he's also not human, so he'll treasure the time he has and not force Tate to give him more. Its very nice his parents and uncle are going to be sticking around for ages though, even if it was unwilling on his parents part.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I read the post where you answered why you didn’t like Malleus and remembered that you placed Leona really highly on your favs list, and Leona is my favorite so do you mind me asking why do you like Leona?

[My TWST character tier list is here.]

[Anon is also referencing this Malleus post.]

THERE’S A REASON WHY L*ONA IS IN “Unfortunately Enjoy” TIER 😭 I think for like... over a year (2020-2021)? Probably closer to 1.5 years?? I really disliked him and swore up and down that I'd "never in my life simp for the fake cat". This was largely in part due to book 2, which to this day I believe did Leona a HUGE disservice and made him look very unintelligent and uninteresting. Then I was drip fed new Leona content as it steadily came out (vignettes, voice lines, event stories, his return in book 6) and my opinion of him vastly improved. Book 2 was just a really bad introduction to him and it greatly soured my first impressions. sjfyofqebfeiafns B-But now I'm too embarrassed to openly declare, "Yeah, I like a sad muscular l*on man. So what?" Some would say that's tsundere behavior... BUT I SAY I'M COMPLETELY JUSTIFIED FOR ACTING THIS WAY BECAUSE IT ISN'T EASY TO CONFESS WITH YOUR WHOLE CHEST THAT YOU LIKE KINGSCHOLAR OF ALL TWST CHARACTERS

... Anyway! For a much more expanded explanation, I'd recommend this post! It already states a lot of my thoughts, and I don't want to repeat them in yet another lengthy lion-related post. What I'll do instead is summarize the key points for you, plus add some commentary about Leona and Malleus at the end.

Admittedly, he is pretty. VERY pretty. I'm saying this as someone who normally really dislikes hair longer than shoulder length, the "wild"/bad boy aesthetic, and kemonomimi. Leona breaks ALL the rules and still somehow manages to wear everything and anything well because of his sheer confidence and natural grace. His physical features are also very striking... The sharp bright green eyes, the small waist and large chest (there's NO reason why he HAD to be built like that), his stupid smirk, etc.

His pettiness and sarcasm. Leona has, hands down, some of the funniest lines 🤡 I love that he has the balls to speak callously to everyone, including fellow dorm leaders and royalty. His best moments, however, are when he whips out the sarcasm on statements which are so patently untrue--like when he says he is a 'delicate prince' and a 'lost child', both moments from book 6. It's also hilarious whenever Leona speaks in a formal way, showing that he does have the education and the knowledge of how a prince should present himself, but just actively chooses to not make the effort and only does so mockingly or when social grace calls for it.

HIS BIG BRAIN FOLDS, HOLY COW (err, book 2 aside). Leona works smarter, not harder!! He's always one step ahead of everyone else, even if he appears sleepy or disinterested at the time. He figured out the trick behind the "indestructible" golden contracts, he sussed out Jamil WAY before book 4 ever came out (saying that Jamil has "eyes that always glare" and implying that Jamil poses a threat to Kalim's life; this is from Jamil's School Uniform vignette), he takes what he learns in textbooks and so easily translates it to real-world experiences (ie advising the first years on how to more efficiently mine magestones in Vargas Camp), etc. Additionally, Leona knows when to step in and when to be hands off. It's not done out of cowardice or laziness, but rather because he's thinking strategically. For example, he could have resisted capture at the hands of the Ferrymen, but he didn't because it would be smarter to just go with them willingly. It saves everyone a lot of time and energy, and it’s this kind of intelligent thinking that makes Leona really stand out.

He knows how to lead. There are many different types of beastmen, each with own beliefs, values, and traditions that are unique to their own group. As a result, it is very difficult to unify all beastmen within the Sunset Savanna under one rule. Guess who doesn't have this problem? THAT'S RIGHT, IT'S LEONA. There's a variety of beastmen in Savanaclaw, and he effortlessly rules over them and commands their respect.

He actively thinks about how to improve the Sunset Savanna. Leona's ideas are not always the best (like, yeah, you could introduce new technology to the country but expect significant social pushback from the people, who prioritize living in harmony with nature). However, I can really appreciate that he did not entirely turn his back on the people who feared his powers and talked him down. I think he eventually realized the flaws in his way of thinking and actively chose an energy and mining lab internship in hopes of researching ways to slowly implement changes that will benefit the Sunset Savanna while also remaining respectful of the people's beliefs. He is concerned about Falena's lax way of ruling and consistently brings up ideas in various voice lines about how they can improve the Sunset Savanna and its relationships with other countries and tourists. In spite of everything he went through, Leona never wants to hurt those who hurt him with their comments and comparisons to his elder brother. He does not ever want to tear down the system that kicked him down again and again, only wants to challenge it by proving his own merits and the merits of the other downtrodden that he leads.

As much as he wants to deny it, he cares about his underclassmen and goes out of his way to help them. There are sooo many examples of this that it cannot possibly fit in one bullet point. (I would really recommend reading the elongated post linked above, as I go into more detail on this.) Suffice to say, Leona has been shown guiding, instructing, and mentoring many other characters including, but not limited to: Epel, Ruggie, Jack, Jamil, and various Savanaclaw mob students. This really hits me in the heart because I love reliable big brother characters 😭 EVEN THOUGH LEONA IS TECHNICALLY A YOUNGER BROTHER...

He understands his strengths—and he understands others' strengths too. This man is fully aware of his magical might and powerful presence. He uses every last bit of it to full effect and to attain his goals, whatever those may be. One of my favorite uses has to be In Fairy Gala!! He distracted some pixies by simply demanding water and their attention so his partners in crime could escape—and what’s more, this was a plan he came up with on the spot because their mission was being jeopardized by unforeseen events. Leona is also good about pinpointing people’s best attributes and then helping them hone it. This happens a lot during club practice, bur it also occurs in book 6 between him and Jamil. Speaking of…

THAT WHOLE BOOK 6 CONVERSATION WITH JAMIL DESERVES ITS OWN BULLET POINT. This part was peak mentor mode Leona 😭 Sure, maybe he wasn’t the kindest with his wording, but I felt this was the wake up call Jamil needed to hear. What really got me though was the part where Leona tells Jamil there’s still hope for him… “unlike me”. (I believe this part was translated differently in EN to make Leona’s ego sound more inflated (ie “I’m not like you”) which saddens me immensely.) It paints the image that Leona is still struggling to believe his efforts will amount to anything and that he believes more in his juniors than in himself :(( (which informs my headcanon that Leona mentors younger students so that they can have the bright future he doesn’t think he can have for himself).

Emotional complexity. When you get down to it, what started off as a very basic story of jealousy and inferiority complex actually resulted in a deeply flawed, traumatized, and scarred individual who continues to doubt and put himself down but is slowly recovering. Leona is smart and charismatic—he is everything a leader should be, but he doesn’t truly see his own worth. (Ironically, the only people who do are the ones who look up to him and follow him.) And now… Leona’s actually got his eyes set on graduating! He has his internship plans set! I think he’s made such big strides since book 2, and it’s been so rewarding seeing him regain his willingness to try and succeed return to him.

Looking back on it, it’s so ironic how things ended up working out. Initially, I was totally on Lilia’s side when he insulted Leona and said he would never be the kind of leader Malleus is. Now I’m realizing how Leona does many of the things I don’t see Malleus doing (despite Lilia claiming Malleus is more fit to be king than Leona is).

Malleus isn’t harming his people by any means, but it’s more like he’s… stagnant? Complacent? He’s satisfied with the status quo and is comfortable resting on his laurels. And because of that, Malleus doesn’t really seem to consider what he, as a leader, can do for others, be it for his dorm members or doe his country. (Part of this is also how isolated and opposed to change Briar Valley is, of course! That kind of culture definitely shapes Malleus’s thinking.) He tends to avoid situations which involve navigating social complexities rather than dealing with them himself. Think of Ghost Marriage, when Sebek proposes in his place. Think of Fairy Gala, when Silver is the one that ultimately resolves the conflict between the diurnal fae (who have historically not been friendly with nocturnal fae) and NRC. Malleus is so sheltered that has not truly been put in situations where he has to make tough decisions or where he has been challenged. He has never had to claw and scream and beg for people to see his worth.

Leona has been through that emotional wringer, and though he’s been hurt so badly, he still came out the other side. In running from the shadow of his family—of his older brother—Leona found solace in this new kingdom, Savanaclaw. It’s a place to build himself up, to stew over the ideas he has that have yet to be realized, all with a safe mental distance from home. It’s through the many hardships he has experienced that has refined his wit and given it a place to practice, to be used.

When it comes down to it, Leona and Malleus are two sides of the same coin. Both arrogant princes, the second born and crown prince, respectively, wishing for the other’s circumstances. Leona desperately wants that respect and recognition that Malleus has. Malleus longs for the intimacy and camaraderie that Leona is so easily able to cultivate and command. Leona has been forced to adapt, to learn, to grow from his scars. Malleus struggles with the concept of change (understandable, given his background) and actively denies reality if he finds the truth to be unpleasant. He’s not used to facing dilemmas that cannot be solved with magical strength, and has not ever been challenged in such a way. Malleus doesn’t know how to deal with that, which is partly why be panics and loses himself to emotions in book 7. (By the end of it, I’m sure he’ll be given the chance to see the error of his ways though 💦 or at least I hope he does??)

Their characters are very different, and that’s not a bad thing!! If anything, it makes their dynamic so interesting to observe and it offers varying interpretations of the same “prince” trope. I definitely know which of the two I prefer 🤡

[sweettjrose]

So I just finished Volume 1 of The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck and...

Yeah I get it now.

HOLY COW, what a ride. I've been wanting to read this story in full for a while and I was not disappointed when I finally did. I just loved how well the story flows together, it felt like binging a TV show but like in the best possible way. And I was really captivated by the story. I'm still in shock in how well they show Scrooge going from a well-meaning kid who just wants to support his family to a greedy miser who doesn't trust anyone. Like the shift felt very seamless and very in character.

Like I really like how Scrooge being less trusting could arguably be pinpointed to a single panel. And of course it's the the most iconic one

It also was just fun to read though and see how well the lore of the Duck Family was implemented. Like it is one thing to know, but a completely different thing to experience.

And also... It's just really funny. It really feels like watching a cartoon, I just love all the gags and how much they are able to pack in a single panel without it coming across as too cluttered. Like the layout and use of space is incredible. Gee I wonder if this series won an Eisner for a reason.

Honestly the only main criticism I have is the stuff that didn't age well (even when they were made tbh). But outside of that it was truly life changing. I can't wait to read Volume 2.

Also just for the sake of it, some of my favorite gags:

The fact that Scrooge decided to pay Donald like this because of this one moment is hilarious

[northhopest]

7x10: Chaos Agent

Alexi used this episode as a promo for Zander’s music, and you know what? I’m not even mad. The major disappointment with Zander was not performing Cop Cuties.

The cold open with him being Celina’s date with a hidden agenda to get closer to Nolan is comical. I also love Bailey and Celina’s mother/daughter relationship even though Jenna’s only 9 years older than Lisseth.

Daddy Cop: Tim’s Version

I’m not surprised that Lucy knows Daddy Cop. In one of my fics, she sings it so much that their 3 year old daughter ends up innocently singing it to Tim.

This Chenford and Nolan scene also speaks to Chenford’s progress. Compared to that godforsaken food truck scene in 7x02 when Lucy made that problematic paying off her “debt of gratitude” to Tim statement, this scene was classic Chenford.

Up until 7x07, I was one of Chenford’s biggest critics and up until 7x05, I was extremely protective of Lucy. They jumped right into the season with flirting (Tim) and bantering (Lucy) without a roadmap of where they’d been during the hiatus. The season became more enjoyable for me once Tim started showing his feelings. Tim is actively trying to fix what he thinks is irreparable. He didn’t even do this with his wife (7x07). Once the damage was done with Isabel, he moved on. But with Lucy, it’s different.

Lucy: I don’t understand why men take everything so seriously Tim: I don’t see how you can generalize something like that Lucy: Experience

There are different ways to interpret “experience.” If this is a Cholan reference, I hope whomever wrote this episode gets skunked. 

I think it’s her being spicy towards Tim in a sarcastic/feisty way and telling him that he takes everything so seriously.

The Lucy that sang Cop Cuties, bantered with Tim, and then had her hand on Tim’s arm in the raccoon scene was different from the Lucy that bantered with Tim in 7x01. She didn’t have the stiffness of 7x01, the morning after avoidance of 7x06, nor the love declaration avoidance of 7x08. I see that as progress. He’s been doing the work to work his way back into a place where she’s comfortable with him. That took time. His hard work is paying off because the Lucy in these two scenes, “experience” jab aside, is seemingly the Lucy in S5 that stole his radio.

Chenford: Miles’ Biological Parents

Smitty sneaks off into Tim’s old office to eat his donuts (and, let’s be honest, take a nap). Smitty almost face plants when Tim shoves him. They did it for comedic purposes, but shoving a coworker is grounds for termination in real life. 

Tim and Lucy give conflicting advice to Miles about what to do with the raccoon. Lucy undermining Tim in front of his rookie is funny yet disrespectful—no one else could get away with that. Tim lets Lucy get away with it. “Small doses” Tim will let Lucy get away with just about anything if it doesn’t harm her. But if the roles were reversed and he undermined Lucy in front of her rookie, fandom would be in hell over it. 

Lucy and a rodent (quick take)

Rodent: You think this guy is really gonna come back for her?Lucy: I think there is no guy Me: I think there is no cancer Rodent: Holy cow, that’s wild. She seems so innocent. Me, since December: Rodent’s evil. If Lucy’s career gets tainted by yet another white male (Nolan, Bradford, Primm, Rodent) I’ll -  Fandom discovering Rodent's true colors: Holy cow, that’s wild. Rodent seems so innocent.

Lucy and Her Stepmother

I love Luna’s sass as she asks Lucy “why?” Why is she asking Luna about a shady oncologist? It seems more reasonable for Wes, Angela or Nyla to prod into Hasanoff.

Also Lucy’s stepmother: I will not tell your father unless I need to.

I love the way Luna reads Lucy like an open book. Lucy counts her losses and spills the beans. They have the insurance talk. Luna tells Lucy “If I needed a doctor to lie for me, Hasanoff is who I would go to.” The Watch Commander’s wife took all of a minute to figure out that Seth is lying. She’s not messing around. I think she knows about Seth’s mishandling of the Wildfire. There’s just no way Grey didn’t go home that evening and vent to Luna. 

Look, Lucy would not go to the Watch Commander’s wife for work help if she didn’t need it. It’s a cry for guidance. She needs to know her instincts about Seth are correct and Luna tells her without telling her that it’s correct. I was in Lucy’s shoes last year, trying to figure out my own five player trade. You get to the line as close as you can without crossing it, and the other party does too. Just enough information is exchanged to make your move. 

He’s Definitely NOT Undermining Her

I don’t think Tim was undermining Lucy in 6x01. I think he gave her what she asked for but I don’t think she used her words correctly to ask him for what she truly needed. Tim would give her anything as long as it doesn’t harm her. He’s perceptive for a guy but he’s still a guy. She knows that about him. She knows HOW to ask him and how he’s going to respond. As she told Isabel, she’s got him all figured out. 

All season long, he’s giving her space and agency to deal with Seth. She asks him for help and he gives her distance to figure it out while still having her back when things go south. 

When she calls him after her conversation with Luna, he doesn’t tell her what to do until she asks for it. When she does, he gives her the tools to make her own decisions. He’s in crisis mode at Mid Wilshire with the inmates but he still picks up her call. Husband material.

Bye, bitch.

There’s a missing scene between Lucy’s phone call to Tim and Seth’s firing. Tim told Lucy to get the hospital to draw Seth’s blood. Lucy never asked Seth on her own. She went back to the station to deal with Zuzu, had a conversation with Tim, Tim gave her a gameplan, they briefed Wade, and arrived at the hospital as a unit. I think Chenford both knew that Seth would retaliate against Lucy if it were just her asking Seth. He’s taken advantage of her all season, he’ll try to do it again if it were just her asking him to submit to a blood draw. 

Seth is a white man. Tim, Nolan, and Wes are too but they’re cut from a different cloth. There’s privilege at play but the latter three wouldn’t knowingly use it to their advantage. Seth would. Seth is always using his status as a young white man to his advantage. Compare what he gets away with to Miles who gets away with nothing. Miles would never try anything with Tim. Miles tried with Lucy until Tim shut him down. Seth tries with Lucy all the time, even after Tim shut him down. It’s difficult for women to train male rookies. It’s even more difficult for women of color to train white male rookies. You’d have to be a Nolan type for it to be effective.

I think this is the main reason why Lucy didn’t ask Seth to submit to a blood draw without backup, and why Tim and Wade are involved. She recognizes what’s happening. Tim can’t get Seth to submit to a blood draw, he’s not Seth’s TO. But Wade can.

Tim is so over it the moment he sees Seth.

Wade lays out the grounds for termination. Only Wade can officially terminate Seth. This mirrors 7x04 when Tim told Lucy they should talk to Wade about Seth. 

A switch goes off in Seth. He has no reason to be nice and clumsy anymore. He turns mean. 

Tim then gives Seth the procedures following dismissal. I think if Tim were Seth’s TO, he’d lay down the rules and escort Seth off the property himself. But I think there’s the unspoken status at play again, Tim recognizes this, and, accompanies Lucy in escorting Seth.

Lucy is Never Alone

One of Tim’s most powerful lines in S1 is when he tells the criminals that he’s never alone and the LAPD shows up in the air, on the ground, etc.

Lucy is never alone, either. She has powerful people in her corner. Luna gave her solid advice. Wade, though there were still messes to be dealt with at the station, went to the hospital just for her and arranged for another officer to stand guard in place of Seth. 

And Tim. Tim won the 7x01 bet with the rookies, and Lucy’s career remains unscathed since she went through the proper channels. It’s a win-win.

Tim Bradford would do anything for Lucy Chen. She may not want to go to him for advice about her personal life, but keep in mind that she shares an apartment with Celina and Rachel. Tim is there where it counts, where it matters, where it’s essential. He’ll protect her with his life.

Grey Needs a Vacation

Grey looks like he needs an all-expenses-paid trip to Palm Republic.

Quick Takes

They wrote a whole episode around Zander and a raccoon. How?

The unique title card was a hint that this wasn't going to be your typical episode.

What are county inmates doing in city jail?

I love how gentle Tim is with Smitty after Smitty gets beaten up

The raccoon saved Tim’s life and singlehandedly made sure that Chenford is NOT bones.

I saw some chatter about Melissa being the only one who cares about Lucy. That’s simply not true. There are probably a hundred people involved in making Lucy Chen, Lucy Chen. From Alexi to Judy to Tamiko who does Lucy’s stunts to Mike who photographs Lucy and the rest of the cast, everyone CARES about Lucy.

I do not care for the slender man story or those kids. There are other ways to get Lucy and Seth (and Wade and Tim) to the hospital to fire Seth.

This episode was PEAK chaos. I can’t wait for the April Fools one to outdo it. 

[anonymouscheeses]

Reasons I love Chaggily

1. They work well together, let me explain. (The plot could easily set them up to be in a throuple)

While Charlie and Vaggie are an amazing couple, ( and I absolutely ship them together) adding Emily to the mix would make complete sense. Whether Emily falls at some point or decides to help Charlie and Vaggie, they all have one thing in common. They have been lied to, and or hurt by heaven’s actions. Making the perfect situation for them to bond over shared trauma.

Season 1 Ending Spoiler coming up in my next sentence!!! You have been warned.

With Sir Pentious making it to heaven, Emily has more motivation and reason to help Charlie and Vaggie with the Hotel. Or at least find a way to stop heaven from continuing the exterminations. Like I said before this places the characters in a perfect spot to work together/get to know each other better. (Assuming this is the route Emily chooses to go, in order to help Charlie and Vaggie)

If all three of them interact more in season two or three we could get cannon Chaggily, but ultimately it is up to the writers and producers. I would be shocked and thrilled if chaggily became cannon, but I am satisfied with Chaggie staying in a relationship.

2. They work together as foils for each other’s character development.

In the event that Emily continues to realize that heaven isn’t what it says it is, Charlie can remind her of all the good that is still in the world while Vaggie can relate to, and understand where Emily is coming from.

In the event that Emily falls, Charlie and Vaggie would be the perfect people to help her through everything. This would set them up to spend more time together and possibly end up together in a throuple.

For Charlie, Emily brings the eye opening experience of realizing that Heaven isn’t all it says it is. While Vaggie helps support Charlie’s dreams, Emily could bring a more painful, but open view of Heaven to Charlie. And that is not to say that Emily wouldn’t believe in Charlie’s dream, but she could bring the realization that many “Sinners” can’t get to heaven just from trust exercises.

For Vaggie, Emily and her share a feeling of betrayal from Heaven. Vaggie’s betrayal is far more intense than Emily’s of course, but if Emily falls (that would change things). With Emily’s arc of learning that heaven isn’t what it says it is, Vaggie and her can bond over the fact that they both hate, or for Emily specifically (starting to hate the way heaven treats “sinners”)

I could keep ranting about Chaggily, but I don’t want to be overwhelming.

Thank you for reading this, if you made it through my rant. :) I would love to talk about Chaggily anytime!!

HOLY. COW???

THIS IS ALL OF MY THOUGHRS AND I LOVE THAT YOU PUT THEM INTO WORDS! I AGREE WITH EVERYTHING, THANK YOU!!

PLUSS, i toats agree that Chaggie by itself is a satisfying relationship that can just be by itself, and if the writers were to go down that route i wouldnt be mad myself. But the crazy potential of CHAGGILY. Is INSANE. and you pretty much took the words out of my mouth! Its just such a beautiful relationship that would work perfectly as for the dynamic, character growth, plot, etc etc! Thank you anon 🫶🫶

[tonycries]

I just wanted to send you a little appreciation for all of your writing because I'm seeing on my dash that fanfic writers don't get enough appreciation and I don't EVER want you or any of the amazabong writers on this site to feel that way.

So anyways

GURL WOW YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOD LIKE HOLY COW CAN I EAT YOUR BRAIN???? WHAT GLORIOUS STUFF GOES ON IN THERE LIKE HELLLLOOOO!!!!

MADAM GOJO? BANGER.

The one with feral clan head toji? Absolutest banger

Anything with choso? Chefs kiss

The list is so long like literally all of your works are in my likes which I like reading again and again and never get tired or bored of your writing like daddy tony, i have to say, your skillz are otherworldly

Please never stop writing whatever your heart desires to and never ever feel pressured to write something for your rabid readers, a majority of us, including me, appreciate and lkve you for your efforts, so don't forget that, okay?

K bye love you lmaoooooooooo

*SOBS REAL ALPHA TEARS* what if I bought myself a wedding dress, huh? What if I picked out a Gojo-themed venue, huh? What if I flew you out for our wedding, huh?

And ahhhhh this actually made my day sm, thank you for the kind wordsss <3 It's lovely, lovely messages like these that keep me going ehehe 💕

Also to answer your other ask-

I've heard of ittt but I haven't actually used it because I've had some awful experiences having my work fed into AI (without permission) to be made into bots 💀 LMAO but they seem funnnnn I dunno if I'd ever use it though because 👿daddy's shy👿

Anyways, I hope you have the loveliest week mwah mwah mwah <3

[whxre-bxby]

i luv your writes so much! I haven't been able to read many fics these past weeks bc of work life ugh but im catching up AND LET ME TELL U YOUR FICS DON'T DISAPPOINT!!! (LIKE UR SMUTTY ONES HOLY COW🐄)

ANYWAY HAV A GOOD NIGHT HOHOHOHUHUHUHUUHEHEHE *FLIES AWAY*

i may or may not hav sent this while high ssshhhg

PLZ- glad you're feeling happy lmao

"Comfort of your Body"

Recom Mansk x Human f. Y/N

(Saw someone post these ducks and it's amazing)

A/N: it's getting way too warm and summery for my liking

Masterlist

Summary: Injured and tired Mansk returns to Bridgehead after the final battle. He finds his girlfriend Y/N in his room, waiting for him and needs her to distract him from the horrible mission. (1K special request from @emzerdoo)

WARNINGS: SMUT, fluff, angst, death, injuries, sub Mansk, dom Y/N, edging, blowjob, penetration, breeding kink, size difference

Word Count: 4415 (a bit shorter, I have so much to write)

Today’s mission had been exceptionally brutal for the recoms. Not that the mission had changed. They still had to hunt down and kill Jake Sully. But today, most of them didn’t make it back home. 

Mansk was one of the three who had survived today. Quaritch and Lyle had made it out of the battle alive too, but everyone was in a bad condition. 

Flying back on the Ikran was almost impossible because the Marines were so terribly exhausted. They had to wait a few hours for an aircraft to come and get them. 

Returning to base, they were all ordered to go to the medical centre immediately. Lyle needed it the most because he had a concussion after his rough fall on deck. Quaritch needed rest and quite frankly so did Mansk. That’s why Mansk refused to stay in the emergency room. He was too tired and still too shocked by the near-death experience that he couldn’t be around people now. He just needed his quiet, his bed and you. 

Before going to your room which was all he really wanted to do, he forced himself to go to the showers first. Every step of the way pained him and while under the water he was getting flashbacks of almost drowning in the wreckage. The memories made it difficult for him to stand still. The wounds as well. He hissed and flinched when the water came in contact with his open and fresh injuries until he couldn’t bare it anymore. He wanted to collapse into his bed and have you by his side because in what he thought were his last moments, he had to face the likelihood of never seeing you again. 

He had found some fresh clothes for himself which he put on while holding the blood-stained gear of today in his right hand. Mansk limped through the now eerily quiet hallways of the recom dorms. They were quiet now. Usually, the team would be constantly walking through them but now he was alone. There was no team. The remaining bits of it were suffering in the medical rooms. 

Finally, he reached his door. He stopped in front of it, leaning against the doorframe in an attempt to gather himself. 

Whenever he would leave for a mission he would have to leave you behind. To comfort yourself, you found it helpful waiting in his room rather than yours. Not only was it bigger to fit him, but it smelled like him and he would often find you asleep in his bed when he would return. 

Today, I couldn’t sleep. Something felt off as I waited for my boyfriend Mansk to return. I was in his bed, sitting upright while I hugged his pillow and stared at the door. My eyes find the electronic clock which showed me that it was past midnight. The time worried me more. Mansk was never this late. They always returned before 9 or 10 pm so that everyone would be fit for the next day. 

The uncertain and uneasy concern was eating me alive as I waited for hours. Dreadful thoughts filled me, making me worry about whether something had happened to him. Maybe he was hurt or maybe he wasn’t even alive. Perhaps they were looking for him and that’s why it took the recom’s so long or perhaps none of them had made it back… 

I too had noticed, how quiet the hallway outside his room was. No one in his squad had returned. It made me sick to my stomach to think about what could have happened. 

My eyes occasionally teared up and I would bury my face into the pillow from time to time and inhale his scent. If I tried hard enough, it would seem like he was here with me. 

Suddenly I heard faint shuffling in the hall and it stopped right outside my door. For a few moments, there was just silence. 

Then I saw the door handle move and my heart stopped beating in anticipation. 

To my relief, Mansk stepped into the room and I noticed how his eyes searched for me. His body visibly relaxed when he saw me sitting on his bed. But he looked clearly exhausted and weakened.

“Mansk-” I say, immediately getting up and hurriedly walking over to him. His stressed gaze softened when he saw me and his ears drooped in relaxation as he gently nudged the door closed before kneeling down in front of me. 

We were roughly the same height now that he was on the ground and once he opened his large arms to me, I threw myself at him and buried my face in his shoulder while we hugged.

Mansk tightly wrapped his arms around me, holding me as close as possible to him. One of his hands rose and he cradled the back of my head. He pressed his face into the crook of my neck and kept it there for a few moments, inhaling my scent which would comfort him while I refused to unwrap my arms from around his neck. 

He was alive and okay. And mainly, we were together. 

After a few minutes, we slowly pull away from the hug but we don’t let each other go. I look up at him and he’s looking at me with watery eyes filled with sorrow, while his hands hold my body and caress my cheek.  

“I was worried…” I whisper, placing my smaller hand on top of his one which was resting on my cheek. We gaze at each other, never seeming to want to look away. 

“Me too…” he softly answered and I noticed how gruff his voice was even through the whisper. He must have been shouting a lot. 

“Are you okay?” I ask, scanning over him with worry in my eyes. 

He hesitates to answer for a second before he tenses and nods. “Yeah.” he breathily says. I can tell he only means physically okay even though I can see lots of scratches and bruises. 

“Oh, Mansk…” I sigh, cupping his cheeks into my palms. Seeing him so distraught made my heart break. His tired and sad eyes meet mine again and feel how his fingers tremble. 

“I’m so happy you’re here.” he whispers, pulling my head to his so that our foreheads are pressing against each other. I small smile forms on my lips and I hold onto him again while he calms down in my presence. 

“I’m happy to see you too.” I reply, softly. My hands gently hold him and I kiss him on the cheek before we look at each other again. 

“Let me take care of you.” 

His tired eyes open slightly wider than before and his ears perk forwards, granting me his attention. That offer sounds so good to him, Mansk can’t help but nod.

I take his large hand into both of mine and he slowly gets up and off the ground, following me to his bed. My plan is to relax him so that he could fall asleep easier. 

Mansk was a strong man, no doubting that. That applied to him both physically and emotionally. But this lifestyle takes a toll on everyone and it has its side effects. He would often become disassociated from reality and would be completely submerged in his thoughts. The thoughts and memories often haunted him, not letting him forget the gruesome images he has seen. That is also why Mansk would struggle to fall and stay asleep. Sometimes he would lay in bed for hours without being able to close his eyes properly. And even if he would manage to fall asleep due to exhaustion, he would dream of those burdening things and therefore never wakes up well rested. 

It really isn’t fair on him, so you try your best to help ease his problems. He once told you that your presence at night helps him sleep and stay calm. So sleeping in his room has become a pleasant and regular experience. 

Mansk sat down on the side, his soft gaze not leaving me as he watched me guide him. I could see through the faint smile on his lips that he was thankful. 

“Take them off, please.” I say with a smile, pointing at his sweatpants and top. Mansk listened without hesitation, removing his clothes so that he is only left in his underwear. This wasn’t the first time I would help him relax so he roughly knew how I liked to do it. Usually, I massage and worship his body in a way that has him drifting off to sleep. Small, gentle touches ease his pain and let him forget everything except for him and me. 

In the end, I lay on him and we fall asleep together.

Mansk enjoys being close to you and feeling your warm skin pressed against his. Ever since he met you, he’s been feeling better all around. His nights aren’t as long and torturous and his days are brighter. He’s told you before, even if you wave it off, he knows he wouldn’t have been able to hold on and stay strong for as long as he is if he were alone. 

Mansk lay down on the bed, letting his heavy head fall back into the soft pillow. The rest of his body weakly slumped into the mattress. 

He was looking forward to seeing you all day, he would have been all fidgety and antsy if he weren’t so tired. 

I climb onto the bed with him and straddle his waist with a smile on my face. I hovered above his upper waist because otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to reach his face. He was already melting against me. I loved how easily I could maneuvre him. 

My hands trailed up and down his torso, making small shivers erupt from him. The size difference between us made things more interesting and apparently my small hands felt nice. He just needed small and gentle touches so I traced his stripes and drew circles around the small specks of luminescent light in his pretty blue skin.��

Occasionally, my eyes would return to scan over his face and when I notice that his eyes are fluttering closed and his breathing is faint, I feel better about what I’m doing. His body was still and not a single muscle was strained or tense. 

I felt such love for him I couldn’t hold back on worshipping him more, so I leaned forward and started placing gentle kisses along his torso. I don’t usually do this so it took Mansk by surprise and his eyes opened to watch me before he lay his head back and hummed in approval. His eyes close once more so he can focus on the feeling but the darkness brings back the distressing images of his mission. Quickly, they open once more and I notice the small jump and the fast action. 

I stop and sit up, looking at him in worry. Was he in pain or did I do something to make him flinch?

“Are you alright?” I ask, placing a palm on his chest to comfort him. Mansk inhales deeply before sighing and rubbing his eye. 

“Yeah- sorry.” his quiet and tired voice replies. 

“Don’t apologise.” I say, scooting closer and rubbing a soothing circle over his tattoo. He nods a little, running the hand over his face and taking a deep breath. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, leaning onto him. 

I notice his sad eyes staring at the ceiling before they meet mine. 

“No…” he whispers. Mansk wasn’t the person to talk about things. I told him it was unhealthy and he really was getting better, but I knew that there were certain things he has to go through that he prefers not to tell me. Mainly so that I don’t have to be burdened by the violent images like he is. 

I stay quiet for a while, thinking about what to do but then Mansk breaks the silence. 

“I just- I need to think about somethin’ else.” he says, tilting his head to lock eyes with me. I tilt mine to the side, wondering what he means. 

“I want to think about you.” Mansk adds and his words surprise me. I catch on to what he’s saying. He wants to be distracted by me, from his mission. 

“If it will make you feel better…” I say, leaning forward so that my face is above his. 

“It will.” he reassures me, raising a hand and soothingly cupping my face. “Please.” 

I can’t say no when he begs and asks so nicely. A smile forms on my lips, informing him that I’m agreeing to his plea. His hand suddenly grows firm on my cheek and his long fingers reach the back of my head. He then pulls my face down to his and presses our lips together. 

It had been a few days since I saw him last, so I missed the warm feeling of his kiss. 

Mansk was eager to continue it, not wanting it to end. I understood that this helped him forget his worries so I wanted it to last longer too. 

My hands once again roamed his chest and I started tracing my fingers over his muscles, slowly reaching his abs. I broke the kiss to move lower down his body so that I could kiss his flexed and toned stomach. He wasn’t happy about the loss of contact but he let me do what I wanted. 

My lips softly pressed against his skin, making his breathing hitch as he watched me work my way down his huge torso. I smiled up at him before sticking the tip of my tongue out and trailing it over his ab muscles which tensed even more at the touch. 

I took my time, wanting him to know I appreciated him. While focusing on his slim waist, I sit back on him and my movements faltered for a second when I hear Mansk whimper. My eyes shoot up to his face and I notice the faint blush on his cheeks and the way his ears wilt to the sides. Then I look back at me, noticing I sat on his crotch. A grin paints my face and I grind down against him, watching him suck in a swift breath through clenched teeth. I can also feel him slowly hardening under me. 

“Aw, you feeling good?” I ask him in a teasing manner. He nods, staring at my lower half that’s sitting on him. 

“Please, Y/N.” he breathes out and his hands slide up my thighs but I gently push them away. 

“No touching. Just lay back.” I whisper, slowly pushing his chest back down into the mattress. Mansk doesn’t fight it and listens, letting his body fall back. 

If he needs a long distraction I’ll give him one. 

My fingertips graze his skin again, softly tickling his blue body. I could tell that his senses had heightened through his building arousal. Mansk’s heartbeat increased and his breath became heavier and deeper. He lost his rhythm of breathing due to occasionally gasping when I could nibble and kiss his now sensitive skin. 

Slowly, I dip my fingers beneath the waistband of his underwear, slowly tugging it down inch for inch. Mansk shudders beneath me and slightly lifts his waist up, eagerly wanting me to hurry. But I won’t. 

However, I do comply with stripping down his last bit of clothing, pulling it down his legs and throwing it on the floor next to the bed. 

He exhales in a form of relief. Apparently, clothes get uncomfortable and feel restricting on Na’vi when they are aroused. So Mansk preferred to always take everything off which I thought was funny because he would spend his days completely covered in long sleeves and pants. 

“God you look so good-” I breathe out, running my flattened palms up his thighs. He sighs in enjoyment and I notice his blush return. I feel over his v-line, before resting my hands right next to where he’s desiring my touch most. 

My eyes once again meet his and he’s lovingly staring at me. His eyes are soft and half-lidded and his lips are lightly parted. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” I ask, making his ears twitch. 

“Yeah-” he breathes out, locking his eyes on my hand which was daringly close to his crotch. 

“How bad?” I ask, wanting to push all the begging out of him. 

“Please, don’t tease.” he asks, looking at me with pleading eyes. I can see how tired and desperate he is, so I was going to spare him. 

“Okay, okay.” I say with a smile, gently wrapping my hand around him. At least I attempt to wrap it around him. My fingertips don’t reach, there is a small space separating them. 

Mansk shakily exhales as I slowly stroke him. I move my body in between his legs, kneeling in the space between his knees while my hands work and warm him up. 

His head drops back down into the pillows and he lets me take complete control. 

I lower my face down to his level. At this point in our relationship I know the things he loves, so I do my best to pleasure him. 

I nuzzle my face against the side of his shaft, kissing along his warm skin. 

Mansk’s mouth drops open and his eyes flutter closed. 

I stick my tongue out, licking a sloppy stripe from his base to the tip of his dick. His skin is speckled with goosebumps as I do so. 

I swirl my tongue around his tip, hearing a small groan escape him. 

Continuing my work, I move back down and lick over his balls, cupping them with my free hand while stroking him with the other. 

“Shit-” he sighs. Mansk’s tail is excitedly thudding against the mattress. 

I switch it up again, kissing my way to the top of his now almost fully erect dick. My lips wrap around his tip and I lightly suck on it while Mansk balls up his fists and groans in pleasure. Even just the tip has my mouth filled. 

“Feels so good.” he whines, clenching his eyes closed.

I can taste the precum on my tongue as it mixes with my saliva. Then I feel Mansk lightly buck his hips up and I get the message.

I open my mouth wider and start to slowly take more of him into my mouth, each time I bob my head. 

Small grunts escape his lips as he raises his head and fights the urge to thrust up into me again. 

Every time Mansk gets close to cumming I stop my movements, just kissing the skin of his abdomen until he’s calmed down before riling him up again. He wanted to forget about his problems so I would make sure of that. 

It’s becoming messy and sloppy. Mansk has a death grip on the pillow, refusing to let go because he doesn’t want to force you further down him. He is amazing at holding back and letting you take control of him. 

Sweat is rolling down his forehead and his skin is glistening and moist from it. His veins were bulging out of his skin and all his muscles are flexed as he tries his best to stay still and lay down while you edge him for probably the fourth time. 

He was whimpering, begging me to let him cum but I wasn’t going to let him cum like this. I knew he enjoyed this and I was simply trying to prolong his pleasure. 

“Y/N, please-” he chokes out. His eyes have become glossy and his dick is pulsing because it’s so painfully hard. 

“Not yet, baby. Hold on.” I smile at him, cleaning off the sticky pre cum that dripped down his shaft and all over my hand. 

He hisses through his clenched jaw, trying his absolute best not to spill and I decide that I’ve pushed him enough. 

My hands leave him and I lick my fingers clean while he watches me with wide eyes. 

“Take it off.” I say, motioning to my silky nightgown. Mansk never needs to be told twice. His large hands are on me in seconds. Even despite the skin on them being rough, he manages to gently push the thin straps off my shoulder, letting the thin material fall to my knees. 

I smile at him, pleased with how well he is cooperating. Mansk doesn’t even see the smile because he’s staring at my naked body in adoration. 

“I’ll give you what you want now.” I say, letting my smile turn into a grin. 

His big ears come to life again, perking forwards and his lust-blown eyes meet mine. Mansk literally cannot wait. 

I move back to his waist, straddling his trembling body once again. This time I’m not kneeling but squatting above him. He’s so bewildered and desperate that he stares and watches with a flushed face and perked ears. 

One of my hands rests on his abdomen to steady myself. The other reaches for his throbbing and saliva-covered dick, angling it to meet my now wet pussy. Playing with him turns me on, I count it as my foreplay. 

I press his tip against my slick heat and he groans words and curses I don’t understand. He’s too pussy drunk already to talk. 

I rub him through my folds, humming in approval to myself before focusing on touching my clit with him. 

Mansk’s hands are once again digging into the pillow and his head is thrown back. He can’t take the torture much longer. 

Without further warning, I decide to give him what he needs and what I now want. I line him up with my entrance and let myself sink down comfortably until his tip is engulfed by me completely. 

“Fuckin’ hell- Y/N…” he moans, needing to prop himself up on his forearms to watch me.

He was much larger than me and if I placed his huge cock on top of my body, the tip reached the beginning of my ribcage. I was never able to take all of him and never will be but I was able to bare the pain of having most of him inside me. 

I move up on him before sinking down a little more. My eyes clench closed as I flinch at the slight stretch but I know it is only temporary. 

I look back at him, watching how he’s fighting himself again to not buck up into me. Mansk knows it hurts me and he feels bad about it. It took me a lot of persuading to tell him that I enjoy sex with him. Now, he lets me do what I need to do and won’t dare touch, push or move me without my consent. 

“You’re so good to me.” I whisper, drowsily smiling again. He loved and needed praise. I knew he took it to heart, so I helped him feel better about himself. 

“You can touch now.” 

His eyes light up and I nod to reassure him. He was so big I would get tired quickly while riding him. 

Mansk’s large hands release the pillow and he closes them around my waist after running them over my bare chest. I put my hand on top of one of his and nod again, allowing him to move me. He needed his pleasure much more than me so he could get it now. It was well earned. 

I also happened to enjoy seeing Mansk lift me so effortlessly up and down him. 

He supported my movements, making it easier for me to ride him. Mansk was sitting up now and I held onto his shoulders while he thrust me down on him. 

“So tight-” he groaned, his hot breath fanning against the top of my head. 

His ears were pinned back in pleasure and he had his fangs bared as he concentrated on chasing his high. 

He was so sensitive from all the edging I had put him through, I could tell he is close. 

I want us to cum together so I reach down between our wildly different bodies and rub my clit. His eyes open and he watches with his jaw lightly hanging open. 

Mansk always grew weak when you touched yourself. It was a sight that would instantly turn him on. Whether you were naked or were doing it over your clothes didn’t matter, Mansk adored seeing you please yourself. 

That’s also why he moaned and his hips stuttered. 

“Y/N- I’m gonna cum-” he hissed, needing to let go now otherwise he would become an even bigger desperate mess. 

“Let go, baby, I want to feel it inside me.” I manage to say through heavy breaths. He groans at my requests and I feel his dick twitch inside me. 

Suddenly, I’m being pulled down against him faster than before and Mansk starts desperately fucking up into me. I can feel his cum explode and shoot deep inside me and the feeling of it makes me moan and throw my head back. Within seconds I’m cumming too and Mansk rides out both our orgasms until our quivering and trembling bodies fall against each other. 

His arms are around my waist, holding me close to his chest and his head rests on top of mine as we both calm our heavy pants. 

“Thank you…” he whispers, tipping his head down and kissing my forehead. 

“You don’t need to thank me, Mansk. I love you.” I say, looking up at him. 

“Love you too, baby.” Mansk whispers, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. 

He gives me a tired smile before helping me gently get off him. His cum flows down the insides of my thighs but I don’t mind it. Mansk loves the sight of it but he cleans it with a tissue for my comfort.

We’re both so tired now that Mansk just falls back into the bed and I fall with him. 

He was happy to be back with you in a safe space where he could forget everything except for the things that made him happy. Your presence had calmed him and he was able to fall asleep quickly, but only after making sure you were already asleep. His dreams won’t haunt him tonight. And that’s thanks to you.

Tag List: @numarusworld @ikranwings @jatwow @number1gal @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

[ivystoryweaver]

Just finished "With You" and "What A Mother Can Be", and as always, your stories are phenomenal!

I would love to know how life gets for them!

(plus Jake in "3 Times"? Holy cow 🙈🙈😏😏 yes I'd love to know more)

Thank you so much for writing and being in the Moon Knight fandom.

You're an absolutely amazing person and we all love you so much for it. ❤️

3 Times!Jake Thots

Ilysm too! The MK fandom is the most fandom fun I've had in a long time. I'm so pleased to hear you like the stories - those are some of my favorites!

More about Jake in "3 Times Jake Lockley Tried to Kill You and 1 Time He Saved Your Life" without getting too spoilery

Jake wants you more than he wants revenge

He's been pretty singleminded about avenging his brother Randall until now

He's always planned to leave Chicago/his violent lifestyle and let Steven have his wish and live in London. He prefers NYC but it doesn't feel quite safe/far away enough, and Steven may blend in better overseas.

He doesn't know how to tell you about his alters - what if you don't believe him? It worries him more than the fact that he actually stabbed you

He's never met a woman who either wasn't afraid of him or didn't look down her nose at him. You're the only one who really sees him and meets him toe-to-toe - it drives him wild

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

More about Marc/Steven/Jake, you, Grant, Jakob and baby Lockley in "What a Mother Can Be" (in a prequel sense)

Marc was terrified of being a father

And when you were expecting/preparing to adopt twins (whichever reader experience you choose), he was sure he would mess up your life together somehow

He withdrew and Steven really had a chance to shine. He was over the moon.

Jake, too, took on a protective role, showing more tenderness than ever before. He built two cribs and loved every second.

You were all very patient with Marc, tried to be there for him and let him adjust.

Once the boys arrived, Marc was so relieved and thrilled, it was his idea to name them after Steven (Grant) and Jake's real name (Jakob), so that their names would be on legal documents forever (since the family took the legal last name Spector)

While waiting on the arrival of your baby girl, you thought about using your middle name for her. But when you laid eyes on her, you smiled. "Her name is Lockley." It was perfect - no one questioned it.

Most people don't understand the significance of the kids' names, but Jake in particular has never felt so included in his life.

And as for life after "With You", make sure to read the sequel standalone "Still With You"

It means so much that you asked about my stories!!

Ivy's 1st Ficiversary Celebration

My Masterlist

[blushblushbear]

BEAR'S EPIC BLOGGING

so I already feel bad for the anon who asked my opinionated musical theater ass to look into Epic.

Gonna attempt to keep my thoughts succinct and all on the same thread/under read more--

but with that said if you wanna avoid this all together, which is very fair, I'm gonna be tagging this as bear's epic blogging

with that all said DOWN INTO THE CUT WE GO

So right off the bat I will say the musical IMMEDIATELY looses points cause the majority of the songs are 3-4 minutes long

I'm very much of the mind set that all big feelings and plot points SHOULD have a song, but the issue with a lot of modern musicals is that they think all songs need to be 'song' length (so about 3 to 4 minutes long)

they're wrong and I think my favorite example of how to do 'give a feeling a song but don't let it over stay it's welcome' is I guess this is Goodbye from Into The Woods (side note if you saw disney's movie of this musical, I'm so sorry, that was insulting, go watch that PBS recording with Bernadette Peters, she's amazing)-- it's about fairy tale characters, this is Jack of Jack and the Bean stock fame and this is the moment he's saying goodbye to his beloved cow in exchange for magic beans. This is a big moment for Jack and is the driving force for his actions for the first half of his story so it's important, and since it's an important beat in a musical, we sing! -- for about 30 odd seconds and then we continue with the plot cause we have A LOT of story to get through.

And on the note of A Lot of story to get through---

SO-- I'm a broke bitch, so how I experience musicals is I read through the plot summary on wiki, and as songs come up, I listen to the song.

This approach is especially apt here since there is no stage production and low key THANK GOD cause this opening number is actually pretty bad as opening numbers go.

But put a pin in that cause we'll come back to it, NOW--!

I actually gave the wiki a dry read before putting music into anything cause--- well, admittedly it's partly curious but also low key uh--- so I'm not as Hot on The Odyssey as everyone else seems to be? It's a story about a captain who gets mad lost, and losses most of his men, and cheats on his wife, and yeah I GUESS it's an epic tale of his journey home or whatever but like----

I feel like it puts a damper on things when you take some details into account--- like how it's mostly just HIS journey, fuck all the dudes he brought with him I guess. This ain't about them meme. Also 'Her white arms round him pressed as though forever' does loose some cache for me when I know cha boy like---- full on cheated on his wife on the way there. He never gave up coming home! Buuut he did take a break to get laid and loose a lot of his men on the way.

I know it's like-- cunning and he out smarts the odds and blah blah blah but like-- he's still an asshole ya know??

So I was curious how they were gonna spin this, so I read the wiki. I still have not finished the wiki cause HOLY SHIT this thing is long. I know it's supposed to be An Epic but like--- I feel like things could've been stream lined SOME. ESPECIALLY when the songs are 4 minutes a piece BRUH.

I'm going to try and have an open mind here but the odds are already against this thing from word go.

BUT OKAY, the opening number.

I know it's not a stage production but like---------

If you're gonna call something A Musical, on some level you have to treat it like one.

A lot of musicals lately seem to want to REMOVE the theater aspect of musical theater (god forbid we have some incidental music or like------ A THEME or anything)

At the start of this I'm already missing the sort of Establishing Song that's in a lot of my favorite musicals.

Or I guess I should say like--- the establishing melody or stanza or something. Not all of them are full numbers but they help set the stage (sometimes literally, fucking the way the Beetlejuice musical has all it's pieces like light up or roll in and just like the scene fades in MWAH glorious I DROOL)

But yeah, Prologue: Invisible from Beetlejuice, Overture from The Producers (which I only just realized has a bit of Prisoners of Love in the full version WHICH IS THE SECOND TO LAST SONG they really said MEDLEY! with their whole chest lol), Little Shop of Horrors from Seussical the Musi--- JUST KIDDING IT'S FROM LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS, No One Mourns the Wicked from Wicked, The Ballad of Sweeney Todd from Sweeney Todd (2012 London cast my beloved), Seasons of Love from RENT, Alexander Hamilton from Hamilton (which say what you want about Miranda but DAMN this musical is so efficient and well crafted ARGUE WITH THE FUCKING WALL) HELL, EVEN HOLD ME, BATBOY FROM BAT BOY THE MUSICAL

Ever single one of these starts with a song or a bit of music that sort of Vibe Checks the audience into the world we're gonna be living in for the next 2 to 3 hours and if they don't also act as a whole on establishing number (aka a Welcome To This World song or Here's The Start of The Plot song) then it's the very next number in the show and usually follows IMMEDIATELY after

(Opening Night from the Producers, Rent from RENT, The Whole Being Dead Thing from Beetlejuice, Aaron Burr, Sir from Hamilton, No Place like London from Sweeney Todd, AND Downtown/Skid Row from The Little Shop of Horrors MY BELOVED, HAZBIN HOTEL FUCKING WISHES SHE COULD BE YOU SO BAD, MY BEAUTIFUL FLAWLESS, DARLING!!! {okay but seriously Happy Day in Hell wanted to be Skid Row so fucking bad but she tripped over the starting line and broke her neck, deadass. Though to be fair Hazbin sweetie, you never stood a chance, Skid Row does SUCH an AMAZING job introducing it's world, establishing it's characters and their wants and feelings, No One can beat it. THAT FUCKING PART WHERE THE BUMS ARE CLIMBING THE DAMN FENCE LIKE FUCKING ZOMBIES you live in my head rent free! You and the lady who starts the song-- DAMN! Sing it child INDEED.})

But yeah, back to Epic.

I'm not going to hold the fact that it doesn't sound like Full Musical Theater deal against it since it's basically a handful of people headed mostly by One Guy (there is no pit, there is no orchestra, it's not a whole ensemble of singers), but I WILL hold the fact that it basically doesn't have an establishing number at all at it's start against it.

No Vibe check, no settling in, just BAM! In medias res! Hey dude, I know you're in a war right now, but you gotta kill this baby dude, trust.

It really did just smack me in the face with it's plot. (full palm)

AND THE FACT THAT THIS IS GREEK MYTH LIKE-------

HELLO??????? GREEK CHORUS??????? WHERE ARE YOU GREEK CHORUS??????? GODS AND OR MUSES???? OUTSIDE OBSERVER TO TELL THE STORY THAT COULD'VE GIVEN US A PROPER ESTABLISHING NUMBER???????? THAT CONCEPT IS /LITERALLY/ FROM GREEK MYTH?!?! ESPECIALLY SINCE THE GODS ARE APPARENTLY ALREADY HUDDLED AROUND WATCHING ANYWAY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

like.......................................

Like I said at the top of things I literally feel so bad for that anon. They probably did not know I am Mad Opinionated About Musical Theater but I am. And they did not know the land mine they stepped on by low key suggesting me to give it a listen.

Unfortunately I am Anton Ego here. I don't LIKE musical theater-- I LOVE IT.

THIS ALL BEING SAID---

I will say I think a saving grace for me during this is that Jorge Rivera-Herrans has a pretty solid singing voice.

It's very modern musical pretty boy which I'm not the hugest fan of by I can def see why people want to draw a face to match it and/or apply it to their blorbos and ocs.

This ride is already starting out bumpy for me, but my butt's probably just sensitive, so take my bitching with a grain of salt.

Also know that just cause I'm complaining doesn't mean I hate it. I complain about Blush Blush all the time in the discord and I basically spend most of my free time doing shit on here so--

Alright, I'm gonna get through a few more songs before I tune back into yap some more

I'd say stay posted, but like--- maybe don't I'm always a complainer when it comes to modern musical theater <XD;

[followingtheladyofthesacredflame]

Hi I’m a new follower of Brigid, what things are sacred to her - animals, crystals, plants ect

Wikipedia came up with the birch tree being sacred to her but other sources have the oak

If you also have any books/info sources where I can learn more about her I’d love to hear your reccomendations

Hello, welcome to the hearth! So, what I know about Brigid, I've learned from books, blogs, videos, and historical sources. I'll list some of those first so you can do some deep diving yourself:

Brigid: History, Mystery, and Magick of the Celtic Goddess by Courtney Weber (available through Hoopla via the public library system if you're in the US, available through her Etsy shop as well) - this was written by a self-appointed priestess of Brigid practicing in Ireland and the US.

The House Witch by Arin Hiscock-Murphy and The Kitchen Witch by Skye Alexander (both also available through Hoopla I believe and most places books are sold) both have brief bios of Brigid and some tips for working with her as a hearth goddess - take these with a slight grain of salt as they have some Wiccan influence.

Lots of books of Irish folklore include some stories of the Tuatha de Danann, which are the gods of Ireland. There's also some great stories in Scottish and Welsh folklore that you can look into - try The Mabinogion for more information about her Welsh pantheon.

Brigid's Wiki has some great sources at the bottom to jump to.

A profile of the Lady from Druidry.org - take this with a mild grain of salt.

History Cooperative's entry on Brigid - this focuses a lot on her Spring goddess aspect.

Encyclopedia Britannica's entry about Brigid (using the Scottish spelling, Brigit) has some solid base info.

A quick and easy video overview

A look at the Welsh pantheon of which Brigid (in Cymru, Braid) is a part

I don't have a specific source for this, but you might also look into St. Brigid of Kildare, an Irish saint who led a convent centered on a site holy to the goddess Brigid and is popularly interpreted as either a priestess of Brigid who carried her practice in secret through the conversion of Ireland or a version of the goddess herself accepted as a folk saint by practitioners who "converted" to save themselves from Christian "missionaries."

Obviously this isn't everything I've read/looked at, but it's a pretty good starter set of information if you're just starting working with her and not sure what aspects of Brigid you'd like to work with. So now, I'll share what I interpret as her symbols and associations, then what working with her looks like for me. Your experience will probably be different, and that's good! Deity relationships are personal and up to what you need them to be. Hope this helps!

My interpretation of Brigid's symbology:

Basic domain/"Goddess of":

Fire, inspiration, creative works (poetry especially)

Healing, wells, flowing/healing water

The forge, handicrafts (weaving, knitting, crochet, etc.)

Springtime, fertility, rebirth

Associated holidays:

Imbolc (February 1-2)

Associated colors:

Yellow

Orange

Gold

White

Associated animals:

Cows

Sheep

Domesticated animals/livestock generally

Associated herbs/gems:

Marigolds

Sunflowers

Oaks/acorns

Citrine

Red Jasper

Associated food/drinks:

Bread

Wheat

Water

Mead

Milk

Honey

Spiced things - apple cider, cinnamon rolls, etc.

What working with Brigid looks like for me:

Brigid is a motherly figure to work with, but in a more "tough love" sense than some other mother figures. She's willing to work with you and help you grow, but boy will she tell you when you fuck up! I've found working with her to be comforting and encouraging; she makes me feel confident in myself and my abilities and she pushes me to be a better witch, a better mother, and a better person generally.

You don't have to worship Brigid as the only deity in your work, either. In my practice, I've found she gets along well with the Virgin Mary and is cordial with Lady Minerva. She also seems to get on well with Jesus and the Abrahamic God, though she doesn't really get involved with those outside her pantheon.

I've found that the best ways of communicating with Brigid are through tarot, ogham, and astragalomancy (dice). She likes offerings of things you've made - bread you baked, spice mixes you put together, things you've crocheted or knitted or woven or sewn. She also loves tea - making a cup and sharing it with her is a great way to venerate her! I feel her presence as a warmth, like a fire in my chest and a warm blanket over my shoulders. She likes working with me in kitchen witchery and workings related to creativity, inspiration, luck, and healing. I keep space for her in my main altar and my kitchen altar, though I think if she had to choose, she'd prefer to be venerated in a kitchen altar.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Just read Infinite Rewind and holy cow you had on the edge of my seat towards the end *chefs kiss*. After finishing it I couldn't help but feel like the reader embodied this quote/ she would've used these lines(most likely in a conversation with Gojo or Geto) to convey her feelings on her sacrifices as well her possessing the memories of her deaths plus those of the people who killed her, and from that gain their feelings as well as experience life through their eyes. Its from a scene in season 2 ep.7 of a show called "Invincible" incase you haven't watched or are behind I'll tweak it a little to pretend spoilers. However it'll still be 98% accurate so I hope you enjoy it have a good day/night, get plenty of rest, drink some water if you haven't, and eat something.

"Each time I died, each time I came back it was because I helped make this world a little better. You've done the same as a Jujutsu Sorcerer protecting your comrades, students, and civilians. We're not our bodies were the decisions we make, the lives we change, the people we love, or who love us. I don't need to forget that and neither should you."

I also wanted to ask when Gojo said someone wanted to thank the reader after the second/third time jump I figured it was Suguru. If it was him rather than Gojo not wanting to directly express his appreciation does that mean he knew about her beyond the first time? What are his feelings towards her? I also forgot if the Reader has been given a "name" like your other fics to differentiate her. I tried looking through the tag, but couldn't find it.

thats a beautiful quote bestie! and omg i love love love the analyse yall give on my fics so so much?????????????

and technically i never rlly gave the mc a name. but in the fic gojo calls the mc Greeny, so we're using that.

[aikoiya]

Hello there, I love your post and I like your idea about Danny being affected by hamon but now not the time for dp x jjba and i have a long post idea that I would be understanding that it takes you days to research and post your idea.

Danny Phantom (phantom planet not happen in this au idea) x hunter: the parenting and by extension the world of darkness.

A few months before the event of Adorable Family Trip, the D family went to Amity Park for a month to visit one of Big-D ex, Jack Fenton, and while at Amity Park Kitten decided to look into Amity Park folklore. I want to know what 3 folklore that Amity Park has and what Kitten and Big-D thought about it, also bonus point if one of them is not about ghosts.

Also I have fun idea that the D family shenanigans while in Amity Park like Kitten learning about ecto ghost from Maddie ( who has extreme bias), Jack ( who is still learning about ecto ghost), and Big-D ( who usually keeps info until it's relevant), Marckus telling Danny and Dash about his experience with bully and tell them about how Brok Blacklaw eat Marckus book, gross Danny and Dash out, Door and Boy waiting in line at Nasty Burger for the meatiest burger for Boy and telling Jazz about his old 'mining day' unintentionally misled Jazz into thinking he was a miner and not a EOD specialist that he actually is, and Big-D and Jack have a journey and talk about why Big-D broke up with Jack as while Jack is good against ghost, he is not prepared for Big-D reckoning against the various supernatural.

Also for the funny Big-D know Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom when first met and didn't tell his family until on the plane back to Norfolk UK and his reasoning is that "it is obvious".

Holy cow! Honestly, I was confused for a bit. But the further down I got, the more I recognized. Like, Big-D was my first tip off, but it wasn’t until I read Markus, Door, & Boy that it clicked.

Now, I know what we’re talking about. I was afraid this was about Monster Hunter or Hunter x Hunter because I know practically nothing about either of those except dragons & that they are an absolute infestation in Monster Hunter.

You have no idea how lucky you are that my brother got me to watch the animated adaptation on YouTube or I would be completely lost! XD

So, congratulations, I can ramble about this subject!

However, I have only seen the animated adaptation up to Big-D's guide to avoiding arrest & am actually currently watching it as I type because I asked my brother a question about the show & he later said he'd rather watch more of it rather than continue with Lupin III. So, thanks for that. (Jk.)

Brok literally just appeared for the first time. His crew certainly seems to possess quite the motley assortment of very unfortunate faces, don't they?

But, yeah, I haven't seen any of the actual sessions, so my knowledge about how that world works is limited to that.

First off, I love, love, love all the supernatural lore in it. I was literally taking down notes.

Anyway, hmm… Well, I just looked at a list of Michigan cryptids & it talked about Michigan Mermen, though evidently, it's “bad luck to threaten one.” Though, the legend specifically says it's in Lake Superior. At the same time, the 2 lakes are connected by Whitefish Bay, so I wouldn't understand why they wouldn't also appear in Lake Michigan unless it was specifically inhabited by a predator of theirs. There's also apparently the Chicago Mothman, which according to a really cool map someone made from doing a bunch of research (Amity Park Location & Map), is most likely not even a full day's travel from Amity. Then there's the Lake Michigan Sea Serpent, which is, like, right there.

Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if it lived in Lake Eerie. Maybe even just a short walk away from Amity itself.

Though, I do also have something a bit more benign that I made up myself. It's not really a creature. It's just a jukebox that plays creepily accurate music. → The Haunted Jukebox

It's really not much, but I figure that it'd be nice to investigate something that wouldn't try to do unspeakable things to them for once, ya know?

And I do have to say that I very much don't see Jack as the type who'd be into Big-D. In fact, I think the only dude that Jack might have a chance of being into is Vlad, who was never interested & will never be interested. And I don't even know if Jack would be aware of his own interest or if it's ever even crossed his mind.

However, I do have an alternate suggestion. What if Jack & Big-D… were brothers or cousins?

Now, I have a lot of thoughts on not only the Fenton Family’s lineage, but several others too, so here's a link so that I don't have to put it all here. → DP AU - Family Legacy

For that matter, I also hc that Warden Walker is Maddie's dad (but neither are aware). Seriously, go read Grandpappy Walker on Fanfiction.com. It’s an interesting read. However, it never finished. I have other hcs involving her family here, too. → The Walker Family

Now, moving on. This could absolutely work because my theories regarding both the Fenton family & Big-D actually align very well.

Mainly in that I hc that the Fentons are descended from a Lugat, thus making everyone descended from him dhampirs after a fashion.

Now, if we go this route, my suggestion is that Jack was the black sheep of the family… but Big-D was the bedazzled, feral sheep that kept biting everyone. Brilliant & the star of the Fenton family with a brain like a supernatural encyclopedia, but obviously has something very wrong in his head.

In my mind, Jack was never good at learning other languages (which was very important for research) or the apotropaic magics of his family because he could never really wrap his head around the mechanics of how it all worked, so he became frustrated with it all, called it a load of hooey & became determined to prove himself a hunter through the medium he did understand: SCIENCE!!!

And engineering. However, because he'd felt like an outcast due to being unable to understand the magical side of things, he'd begun to reject a lot of the old, tried & true hunter methods, relegating them to the domain of superstition even though a part of him knew that it was all true. He was bitter, okay?

Despite this, he's actually surprisingly honest with himself, considering how full of himself he can be. As such, if he's ever shown concrete evidence that he's wrong, he's actually very quick to adapt & accept that fact.

Then, promptly make amends.

Maddie, however, is ridiculously secular & stubborn. As such, she would be ridiculously difficult to convince regarding subjects involving the supernatural that couldn't be explained using science.

Interestingly, despite being so very different, Big-D was actually one of the only ones in their family who actually heard out Jack’s theories.

At the same time, though Big-D thought that the possibility of this “Ghost Zone” was, indeed, possible, he'd never thought that Jack would not only be able to reach it, consistently of all things, but then prove it!

Personally, I love it when experts of the supernatural are entirely blindsided by something that completely shatters their understanding of the world around them. Like, science is making new discoveries all the time. Why can't the supernatural hunter field also be doing the same?

I'm saying that I think it would be fun if the entirety of Big-D's knowledge of this new plane of existence completely consisted of whatever theories Jack had spoken to him about regarding it.

On the one hand, he's so ridiculously PROUD of Jackie-Boy!!

On the other, Big-D is absolutely shitting his short shorts as it slowly dawns on him the implications of all this.

I mean… this… this is the fucking trans-universal thanatonexus!! Literal proof of alternate & parallel universes!!!

The universe between universes & the moment between times!!!

….

….

Big-D needs to sit down before he passes out…

Which, my guy. I have a full freaking masterlist of hcs regarding how the Infinite Realms work, how it interacts with the Living Realms, how ectoplasm is made. As well as hcs about Clockwork & Nocturn. → DP Ghost Zone Masterlist

Clockwork - The Origin of Clockwork - Clockwork Through the Multiverse - Nocturn (My Style)

Peruse at your leisure.

Seriously, I might have a problem…

I mean, if you really think about it, how would Big-D know much of anything about ecto-ghosts? The only people shown to possess portals are the Fentons & Vlad & the only other portals are natural portals which open randomly & very rarely. Like, maybe he's heard stories about powerful beings that could fly & shoot lasers, but I don’t think he’d know anything truly concrete.

But I definitely think he's aware of Danny's time traveling shenanigans, though only from the perspective of having seen imagery of Phantom & Plasmius scattered through time. But not that it’s Danny & the mayor of Amity (at least initially).

Which, I honestly think that they'd legitimately despise each other. D & Vlad, that is.

Which, perhaps Big-D's actual reason for visiting could partially be because of that? Maybe he saw a picture in a supernatural tabloid about a little town in Illinois that was a tourist trap centering around ghosts? And the picture used was of one of Danny & Vlad's fights?

Maybe it was Kitten who was reading it & Big-D was just sort of sipping his drink at breakfast, was chatting with Kitten, & glanced down only to choke on his drink as he recognized the figures from one of the single greatest mysteries in all of hunter history. He gasps & wheezes rather comically as he tries to catch his breath. Kitten is concerned, but the second D caught his breath, he declared that they were headed to Amity Park to visit family.

The terrifying thing is that I actually think that the Fentons of Amity might be the most well-adjusted members of the current Fentons in the family… This realization haunts me…

Holy fudge, I think Jack would end up being the responsible & rational one between him & D…

Like, I can just see Jack looking D dead in the eye & telling him that drugs, psychedelics, alcohol any purer than near beer, & especially sacrifices were not allowed within 5 yards of the perimeter of Fenton Works & neither were D's sexual indiscretions.

If he brings that shit anywhere near his family, no one will find the pieces. And if he gets caught with that sort of thing here, then Jack's never met the man.

Like, the supernatural stuff is fine, whatever.

Typical Fenton clan brouhaha, but Jack raised a couple of wonderful, talented, genius kids.

(Even if Danny was having a rough time keeping his grades up at the moment, he could still reverse engineer any one of their inventions practically on autopilot & sometimes could even surpass Jack himself in terms of guerilla science & ingenuity, but that's not the point!)

His kids were brilliant & they don't do drugs or commit crimes or go out drinking, & he's not about to have one Bignaceous Ditryck T. Fenton walking in & screwing up the 2 (3 if they’ve adopted Ellie) most sane, well-adjusted children born into the Fenton clan in 5 generations just because he couldn't behave like an adult for a week! Like, he loves D, but “Seriously, D, you need serious help.”

Which would probably start a bit of a dismissive handwaving about how, of course, he’d never dream of it! But Jack just narrowed his eyes at the other man’s insane smile before sighing with a slump of his shoulders before letting them in reluctantly.

Anyway, I'd very much appreciate Amethyst Ocean to be a thing here. This is the DP ship that I've been shipping since I first watched the show. And it was made canon.

Of course, in the end, it's your choice. Not mine.

Also, keep in mind that if Phantom Planet isn't canon, then neither is A Glitch In Time. Just something to remember.

[queenofbaws]

before the dawn, a bad moon rising an(other) Until Dawn/The Quarry fic by TheIcyQueen

“So this is awful, what I’m about to say. If anyone asks you later if you heard me say it, no you didn’t. But when you think about it—I mean, when you really think about it—thank God the twins aren’t here to see this shit.” Matt spun around, his expression nothing short of stunned, and holy cow, had he not heard her say it was going to sound bad?! “Oh, relax! I’m not saying I’m glad they’re dead or anything! I’m not! I miss them more than anyone else here combined! Except maybe Josh, I guess. I’m just saying, like, could you imagine how they’d react to everything happening lately? They’d lose it! Completely!” “I don’t think—” Emily pulled one of her hands out to shush him. “If Beth was here to witness the weird pseudo-flirting Sam and Josh have been doing? Wow. She’d gouge her own eyes out. Probably with her bare hands, too. Just so she wouldn’t have to experience all that secondhand embarrassment, you know? She could never handle that shit.” “Wait, flirting? Since when have Sam and Josh been flirting?” “Um, since the funeral? Duh? Pay attention sometime—you might just learn something.” She resisted the urge to heave another sigh, not wanting to breathe more of the icy air than she absolutely had to. Instead, she turned her eyes towards the horizon, fantasizing about getting back to the lodge and warming herself with a nice, cozy blanket and a nicer, cozier drink. “And don’t even get me started on how hysterical Hannah would get if she saw Jessica swoop in and grab Michael the second I dropped him like yesterday’s trash. God…” She shook her head, then stifled a laugh. “She’d tear that bitch apart.”

Read 8 HOURS UNTIL DAWN (7 new chapters) over on AO3!

[devilart2199-aibi]

IDW collection reading update! :3 📖

Just finished Phase 2 volume 2! So it's been 2 volumes since the last update? I think?

These volumes included: The Death of Optimus Prime, MTMTE 1-8, RID 1-9, Autocracy and Spotlights: Trailcutter, Hoist and Orion Pax.

My thoughts will be below! To spare people the long scroll! Haha

All MTMTE stories are very enjoyable, I really love the writing for them!! I love that each character has some kind of quirk and they're all so quippy haha.

I really liked the story on Delphi. Ratchet kick some booty! Also got to finally see this Pharma guy everyone draws, he's fine i guess 🙄 /joking I'm a total sucker for an evil doctor. I look forward to his return! That's not it for him right...?

Also got to experience Tarn! He's a cool character! I really like that he's like a Megatron loyalist to the highest regard. Back during "The Last Stand of the Wreckers" they mentioned the Phase Sixers and I kept thinking "Who is this Black Shadow guy????" (He appeared in like 2 frames lol) the Phase Sixers seem like big deals so I was surprised I hadn't seen him before and then Tarn and the DJD took care of him 💀 so there he was lol.

As for RID, BRUH it's wild, everyone's getting their heads exploded 💀 rip Constructions my beloved. Idk how I feel about Arcee just being super violent and murdering so freely. But yay Starscream in an advisory position. This whole IDW collection i feel like Starscream has been very good leaning, like he's been set up this whole time to be a good guy (or at least questioning Megs in a way that just isn't petty and more towards the way of a better future for the people of Cybertron. Like his intentions are there) Of course this could be hindsight bc I've read ahead by accident.

Speaking of good guy-bad guy, before starting this collection I'd seen a bunch of panel's and artwork with Megs on the Lost Light and it would get me thinking "what is acceptable? what is redeemable?" This is sorta random but I think about it when I read these comics like "holy cow this man gets away with a lot" (this kinda goes for everyone tho lol it is war, but oof) I haven't gotten to his reappearance yet, but I'm curious how he gets to "be free" to some degree, after everything. I imagine they put him to use under the eye of Fortmax or Magnus, I dunno. I'll see eventually! Haha.

The Spotlights for Trailcutter(Breaker) and Hoist were great! Orion's was fine. His stories are kinda confusing me now when trying to make a timeline in my head 😂

Autocracy was interesting 🤔 like with the Orion spotlight, timelines are kinda becoming confusing to me, at least through these. I feel like there is some retconning going on as I read. Orion's personality here is also pretty different. He's very erratic. Of course he's under a ton of stress and his whole understanding of the world has shattered, but still, very different than usual! I feel like things happen fast in this story. Orion also becomes Optimus Prime in this one too! Much goes on! Zeta Prime deserves a good pepper spraying to the optics lol I did enjoy the five minutes of the Autobot and Decepticons teaming up to fight him tho haha.

Anyway that's enough rambling for now! It's all very interesting and I'll probably continue reading more over the weekend :>