#god I will never stop thinking about them

[reidmania]

opposites attract | s. reid

summary; spencer would give the world to be your person, even after you argue that you two are too different.

warnings; fem reader, pining!spencer, lowkey pining!reader, bombshell!reader, rejection, reader is described as confident and more of a black cat, insecurities, doubting, a bad date mentioned, happy ending, spencer lowkey gets frustrated, reader has tattoos.

an; messy and switches perspectives whoopsies. Idk how many words, a lot. Too many.

Two years. That was how long Spencer had been a complete and utter mess. Two years since his brain didn’t quite function the same, he remained intelligent, sure, but god so incomplete. Two years since you started at the BAU, two years since he met you.

You were out of his league. He had decided it the moment he laid eyes on you. You were stunning, absolutely perfect in anyones gaze. You were everything he could ever want and more, not just physically. Your laugh, your voice, the way you spoke to everyone around you, gentle, warm. The way you sat quietly in the corner most days, not because you felt out of place, nor shy, not because you didn’t enjoy being there, but just because no matter where in a room you were, your presence was known. Especially to Spencer.

He tried to pretend that he didn’t fall completely in love with you the first time the two of you ever had a conversation and you spoke to him with a smile, listened to him, he tried to pretend the scent of your perfume didn’t make him lightheaded, and the sight of your tattoo that he only saw on occasion’s didn’t make him wonder if you had more, what made you get it, was there meaning?

Spencer wanted to know everything about you, he wanted to live in your brain and know your every like and dislike, what made you smile a little wider, what made you unable to stop laughing, what your favourite drink was, what colour you liked the most, where your family was from, your middle name.

Spencer would stop the world to know you.

That was impossible to hide, even two years later. He tried, so many times to get your attention, to be the subject of your fascination. It didn’t help that every-time you looked in his direction his skin grew ten temperatures too warm and his head spun.

He tried asking you out, twice. Sort of.

The first time was too subtle, too rambling and hidden in the mix of stutters and hot cheeks, fidgeting hands. Because you were looking at him, with a gaze so intense and caring, patient.

How was he ever suppose to talk when you were looking at him like that? Like there was something that made him worth the gravity the warmth in your eyes held.

“Would you date me?” It was blurted out on a Tuesday afternoon, you were standing beside him as the buzz of the bullpen had calmed down, your gaze was focused on reorganising the files on his desk, his gaze was on you. You were reorganising because you didn’t like the way he had done it, and it had been ‘bugging’ you for weeks.

Spencer loved the way his files were organised, but he loved you more.

It was stupid, he didn’t even mean to say it. It was out of place leaving his lips and he knew it the moment your head turned towards him and a sweet laugh left your lips, not mocking him, god you would never. It was a laugh of shock, confusion, maybe even surprise.

“Are you asking me out?” You asked, raising your eyebrow slightly as you met his eyes. His cheeks heated before he could help it, eyes went wide because he had no idea what he was doing.

“What- I- no.” His voice was an octave higher, a tell sign he was nervous, if you needed any more tell signs between the fidgeting of his hands, his bright pink cheeks and his avoidant gaze. You smiled as you shook your head, looking back at the files on his desk, he watched your hand as your ran your finger along them once they were organised neatly, anyone else he might’ve cringed at the sight, but it was you.

“I don’t think so” You had mumbled in response and Spencer felt the world shift into an imbalance. You said it so casually. He didn’t know if his heart was beating too fast or if it was breaking. You turned your head back to look at him, a frown on your lips when you saw the frown that had snuck its way onto his features before he could even realise.

“Not because you aren’t great. Or attractive. You are — You definitely are. I just think we are too different.” You said. His eyebrows knitted together as he met your eyes. He hated the fact you were frowning, he hated the fact he was frowning. He hated what you had just said, god he loved you.

“Right” he didn’t know what to say.

“Spence” You spoke through a warm huff of laughter, shaking your head as you twisted your body to face him fully, your hip leaning against the desk as you crossed your arms over your chest. He watched your hair fall down the sides of your face, over your shoulders. He wondered if you had changed your shampoo since the last time, the only time you had hugged him a few weeks ago, when he had gotten the chance to breath it in, and then it was all he thought about for weeks.

You smiled at him and it was contagious, despite the ache in his chest and overwhelming sense of illness in his stomach, you were smiling. “I think you’re amazing, i always have” you started and his cheeks warmed more. “But we are complete opposite’s.”

He wanted to argue you. Say that he could change and be more like you, more like the guys he had seen pick you up after work, he could be whatever you wanted. He could be someone. Someone to you.

But he didn’t.

That was the last time Spencer had attempted to ask you out, you never bought it up. You never questioned it again, you didn’t push you ask why he wanted to know. Spencer remained sickeningly in love with everything about you, you remained pretending to not notice.

Why were you here? You couldn’t quite remember or find the time to think about it properly between the noise surrounding the fancy restaurant you were in and the sickening long rant the boy in front of you was going on. Something about a business, something about saving it, something egotistical and sickeningly boring.

The date starts out fine. It’s all small talk at first—work, hobbies, the usual pleasantries. But soon, you realize that Mark has a lot to say. About himself. A lot.

“And then I closed the deal,” he says, recounting some work story about how he single-handedly saved his company from financial ruin. He leans back in his chair, smiling like he’s just told you the most fascinating thing in the world. You nod politely, but your mind starts to wander. His voice fades into the background as you think about something else, someone else.

Spencer.

You wonder what he’s doing right now. Probably at home, curled up with a book, or maybe he’s watching a documentary. You can almost picture him, pacing around his apartment, muttering facts to himself about some obscure topic that no one but him finds interesting. But you love that about him. He’s so passionate about everything, even the things that most people would overlook. And he’s never trying to show off. He just loves sharing what he knows.

You try to pay attention to the guy in front of you, you really really do. But god he is so boring. You wonder how quickly you could get one of your friends to come save you from this horror of a date. You wonder how long you would have to hide in the bathroom for before he disappeared.

Mark’s voice pulls you back to reality. “So, what do you think?” he asks.

“Hmm?” You blink, realizing you’ve missed the last five minutes of whatever he was talking about.

“I was saying,” he repeats, a little slower this time, “I just think it’s amazing how people like me can juggle so many things at once. Don’t you think?”

You smile, but it’s strained. “Sure, that’s impressive.”

As the date drags on, you start to notice little things. Like the way Mark talks to the waiter, snapping his fingers for attention, barely looking up from his phone when the waiter brings the food. He doesn’t say thank you. Not once. It’s subtle, but it grates on you. You find yourself cringing, wondering if anyone else notices.

He was much more interesting when he asked you out a few nights ago at a bar, when you were drunk. Why had you agreed? Maybe drunk you saw something sober you didn’t. Or maybe drunk you just saw a male who was conventionally attractive and made you laugh. You wondered how low the bar was

You didn’t have a lot of time to wonder before you heard your name from behind you, your head spun and you almost cried with gratefulness when you saw Penelope standing there, a wide grin on her face, and then Spencer standing beside her, he offered you a gentle shy wave that made your heart warm.

“Oh my gosh! Do you guys want to come sit?” You asked, praying they said yes, praying that Penelope noticed the wide urgent look in your eyes and understood that you were begging. You were genuinely begging for a conversation about anything other than Mark’s biggest accomplishments.

“Oh- We don’t want to interrupt.” Spencer mumbled, looking between you and Mark, the two of you sitting opposite sides of the booth you were in. You noticed the look in Spencer’s eye, you knew what it was. He didn’t want to sit there while you were on a date with someone else. Clearly he misread the urgency in your gaze.

“No! Mark doesn’t mind? Do you mind Mark?” You asked, spinning your head around to face Mark who was confused on the two people and why they were talking to you. Why they had interrupted him. You had to hold back the urge to roll your eyes.

“Uh..” he started, you cut him off. “He doesn’t mind. Come sit.” You shuffled over to make room for the two.

Penelope slides into the booth beside you, while Spencer takes the seat across from you, next to Mark. He looks nervous, his fingers tapping against the edge of the table, but he offers you a small, shy smile.

“What are you guys doing here?” you ask, trying to suppress the excitement bubbling up inside you.

“Oh, we were just nearby, and I figured we’d grab something to eat,” Penelope says.

Spencer fidgets with his napkin, glancing at you, then back at the table. “I-I was telling Penelope about this, uh, documentary I watched the other night. It’s about the history of the subway system in New York. I think you’d really like it.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Really?”

He nods, his eyes lighting up as he starts to explain. “Yeah, it’s fascinating, actually. They had to navigate all these geological challenges, and the engineering behind it is incredible. I know you mentioned once that you’re interested in architecture, and I thought you might appreciate how they designed the stations.”

You stare at him for a moment, surprised. You don’t even remember telling him that you liked architecture, but he did. And now, here he is, rambling about a documentary he thinks you’d enjoy, not because he’s trying to impress you, but because he genuinely thought you’d find it interesting.

Meanwhile, Mark is looking more and more uncomfortable, clearly not enjoying the conversation. He cuts in, talking over Spencer to launch into another story about himself, but you’re barely listening anymore. Instead, you’re watching Spencer, noticing how different he is from Mark. Spencer, who’s always so considerate, who listens more than he talks, who looks at you like you’re the most important person in the room, even when he’s nervous.

And then there’s Mark, who hasn’t asked you a single question all night, who’s rude to the waiter, and who’s more interested in hearing himself talk than getting to know you.

“I think I might head off..” Mark muttered, clearly annoyed at the fact you had not only been interrupted on your date, but also frustrated that you were paying more attention to Spencer than him. You couldn’t care less.

“Oh okay! Have a good night” You smiled, sickeningly nice as he shuffled his way past Spencer to leave the table. He glanced at you once, not saying anything before he walked away.

“He was an asshole!!” Penelope bursts out into laughter the minute Mark was out of earshot, you immediately joined her laughter while Spencer remained quiet, shuffling around on the now empty side of the booth.

“Those are the type of guys you go out with?” He asked, his voice was quiet, almost offended. You wish you understood why when you stopped laughing at met his gaze. You opened your mouth to talk as the tension around the table grew.

“Hey! Don’t judge!” She gasped out, pointing her finger dramatically at Spencer, clearly not noticing his underlying feelings and why he had even said anything, you did. “It’s slim pickings out here!!”

Spencer hummed, tapping his fingers against the table as he avoided meeting your gaze. You frowned slightly. Soon enough the conversation fell back into rhythm, flowing like it did any other time. They ate, you paid since it was your date. Then Penelope left.

You stood outside of the restaurant, looking around the busy streets. “How are you getting home?” Spencer asked, his gaze meeting yours as you tilted your head upwards to look at him, you couldn’t not smile. It was impossible not to smile around Spencer.

“Uh- Walking. I walked. It’s really not far.” You nodded to support your words as you buried your hands inside the warmth of your pockets. You had been in a state since Spencer had gotten there, a state you couldn’t quite explain. Silently lost in thought, a state of confusion? Maybe realisation.

“I’ll walk you home. Its late.” He said it like it was a no brainer. Like it was the most obvious thing for him to do. No date you had ever been on had offered you walk you home.

Every time Spencer speaks, you feel yourself softening, smiling without even realizing it. His nervous energy, the way he fumbles over his words, it’s all so endearing. He’s not trying to prove anything to you. He just wants to share the things he loves with you, and it’s the sweetest thing.

“Okay.” You breathe out the silent agreement before your feet find rhythm next to Spencer’s as you walk down the street, the post lights causing an orange glow across the ground, across his face.

“Theres a study.” Spencer started, his breathe coming out warm against the cold air causing a fog of steam to follow his breath, you watched it for an moment before your eyes flickered to the side of his face, you’re still walking, his gaze doesn’t meet yours.

“That uh— Shows that opposites attract, it’s more of a theory, since scientifically it doesn’t actually work like that — although negatives are attracted to positives if you’re looking at electricity — but uh- People believe that a lot of people are attracted to people opposite them, because each person offers something the other lacks, making the relationship feel more complete.. Majority of relationships that are built off of opposites work better than people who are too similar because theres more of a balance.. its chaotic but, it uh — it works.”

He was nervous. You could tell. Your breath hitched slightly as he spoke, as he brought it up again. Your mind tried to process the overload of information he had mumbled out. You tried to process it.

“So scientifically we wouldn’t work.” You huffed out. He laughed. Genuinely laugh, it was breathy and quiet but genuine and it made your heart warm.

“Technically— but theoretically—”

You cut him off, a rare occurrence, “I thought you were a science guy.” You mumbled.

He was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “I think I am just a you guy.”

You didn’t know what to say. It was sweet in a way that your brain couldn’t process. He was going against everything he believed to be correct because he wanted you?

“I thought data and statistics are the most reliable source of information.” You mumbled the response, words he had said, probably months ago. Why were you fighting him on this? Why were you fighting yourself on this? You weren’t sure.

“Sure; most of the time. But they are subjective. Especially when talking about psychologically. Each couple, each set of people — they’re different.” He said, his gaze didn’t meet yours. You pulled your eyes away to focus on the street in front of you. You were getting closer to your house, yet part of you wanted to stay right here.

“You think we could work?” You asked. It was a whisper.

He paused, you could see him nod in your peripheral. “I do. I’d make it work, i’d do anything.” Maybe it came out more desperate than he had intended, you found it sweet.

You found him sweet.

“Spencer” you paused your movements and his stopped with yours. His body turned to face you as you looked up at him. His eyes were pleading, desperate, hoping. It almost made your heart ache at the slight fear in them, that you were going to maybe reject him again.

But you found him sweet.

“Id date you.” You answered the question he had asked maybe months ago now, you didn’t realise until now that you had conveniently stopped outside your house. You turned your head to look at the front door before back at Spencer.

“Can i- uh- Will you- I-“ He stuttered and your heart warmed at his nervous attempt to ask you out.

“Yes.” You answered gently, saving him the hassle. Maybe being different was a good thing. Maybe you could beat the statistics that proved otherwise.

Maybe opposites did attract.

[firehose118]

in sickness

for @bucktommypositivityweek - predict the future

Buck is rooting through their sock drawer when he finds it.

He’s looking for a particular pair of socks: wool, blue and grey striped, soft and warm. They’re the ones that Tommy likes to wear when he’s sick, and right now he is sick. It’s nothing life-threatening, but Tommy is miserable. He hasn’t been able to breathe out of his nose for two days now, his nostrils have been rubbed raw by tissue after tissue, and he’s still shivering under three blankets.

When Buck shoves aside several identical pairs of white socks and sees the little box, he’s confused; almost a little panicked. This isn’t where he hid it. He could have sworn it was still in his locker at work. How did it get here? How did it get to the house, first of all, and how did it end up on Tommy’s side of their sock drawer? Oh god, did Tommy already see it? There goes the surprise.

And then Buck realizes that this is a different box than the one that houses the ring he bought for Tommy. It’s a different color, texture, and it’s from a different store. That means Tommy bought this. Tommy bought a ring. Tommy bought a ring.

Tommy wants to get married. Tommy wants to keep Buck forever. It’s not a surprise—they’ve talked about it, and Tommy has been more than clear that he’s in this relationship for the longhaul; more than clear that he’s deeply in love with Buck and their life together—but it makes Buck’s heart flutter just the same. Tommy is ready to make the commitment.

Buck must have been still and silent for too long, because Tommy raises his head from where he’d been buried under the covers and looks in Buck’s direction.

“Did you find them?” Tommy asks, his voice scratchy and stuffy.

There’s no point in pretending like he didn’t find the ring. This is all he’s going to be able to think about now, and he’s terrible at hiding his thoughts. Tommy would sniff it out in a moment, even this sick.

“Uh,” Buck says, a massive smile taking over his face. “I- I found something.” He holds up the little box.

Tommy looks confused for a moment and then his eyes go wide. “Oh. You weren’t supposed to- I had a plan.” His head hits the pillow with a groan.

Buck walks over to the bed, still smiling, and kneels on the floor by Tommy. “Oh, you had a plan, huh?”

“Yeah,” Tommy sighs. His frown is earnest and adorable. “Big romantic thing. Helicopter and a picnic at sunset. You were gonna love it.”

That does sound like something Buck would love. It’s thoughtful, sweet, intimate—fun. It’s so much better than anything Buck has been able to come up with. Buck has been making and scrapping plans for two months now because they weren’t perfect. Tommy’s plan was perfect.

Still, Buck can’t let Tommy think he was the only one ready for the next step. Who knows how long Tommy has had that ring. Has he been waiting for a sign that Buck was ready? He’s been so good about letting Buck set the pace of this relationship. This would have been the first step that Tommy asked Buck to take since their first kiss, first date. Buck wants Tommy to know he’s ready. They’re moving at the same pace, and Buck thinks that’s a beautiful thing. Well worth ruining the surprise over.

“And what if I told you I bought a ring too?” Buck bites his lip.

“Yeah?” Tommy asks, his face lighting up. He tries to sit up but Buck stops him with a hand on his chest, rubbing it back and forth soothingly.

“Yeah. But I hid it somewhere you wouldn’t find it. Not in one of our shared spaces,” Buck teases. “Babe, I wear your clothes all the time.”

Tommy’s eyebrows pull together stubbornly. “Never my socks, though. You hate my socks.”

Buck has never said that out loud but it’s true. He’s a little overwhelmed by the casual intimacy that knowledge betrays. Tommy knows him so well. Tommy pays attention to him so well, and he seems happy to. It’s all Buck has ever wanted. Finally, Buck has the kind of love he’s spent his entire life searching for. He’s never been more sure that Tommy is it for him.

“I do,” Buck says. He sounds utterly besotted even to his own ears. “Your socks are terrible. The toe seams are too thick.”

“I’ve never once noticed the toe seam,” Tommy laughs, equally as besotted. Like the way Buck sees the world is charming and beautiful to him instead of frustrating and in need of correction.

“I have a hard time believing that.” Buck hands Tommy the ring box. “I’ll put this back and wait for your big romantic proposal if you want. The answer will be the same.”

Before he can respond, Tommy sneezes. Buck hands him a fresh tissue from the box on the nightstand. Tommy takes it and looks at Buck consideringly. He smiles fondly and shakes his head.

“No need to wait. Honestly, I think this might be more romantic.” Tommy gestures with the tissue. “In sickness and in health, right?”

The wet sound of him blowing his nose makes it very clear which side of that dichotomy he’s on at the moment.

“That’s right,” Buck smiles.

Tommy smiles back. He’s glassy-eyed and red-nosed, his hair is wild, and his stubble is scruffier than he usually lets it get. Still, in this moment, he’s the most handsome man Buck has ever seen.

Tommy’s hands shake a little as he opens the box. The ring is beautiful: simple gold, wide and rounded, understated and elegant. Timeless. It’s perfect.

“Evan Buckley,” Tommy starts, voice scratchy and congested. He gives Buck a pained look and sighs. “I had a whole speech planned for this, but my brain is so fucking foggy right now I can’t remember it all.” They both laugh. “But I know why I love you, so I’ll start there. You’re kind, and brave, and smart. You keep me on my toes and you make me laugh. You make me feel safe. I don’t think I’ve ever felt held the way I do with your arms around me. You love with your whole heart, and I feel so lucky that someone as incredible as you chose me. You’re the best partner anyone could ask for. Every day with you is better than the last. There were so many times over the years when we almost met that it’s kind of insane we didn’t, but I’m glad it took us so long. You know I don’t really believe in this stuff most of the time, but I think we met when we did for a reason. We weren’t ready for each other before that hurricane. But I’m ready for you now, and I hope you’re ready for me, too. I love you more than I could ever hope to put into words. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

“Please,” Buck says breathlessly. Tommy’s laugh is filled with affection as Buck hurries to correct himself. “I- I mean of course, yes. Yes, I- I will marry you.”

The tears are coming now. Even through the brainfog that comes with a cold like this, Tommy was able to pull that off. If that wasn’t the rehearsed speech, Buck doesn’t think he would have survived the real one. It makes Buck’s general you flipped my life rightside-up and now I see the world in color and I’ll love you forever feel a little inadequate. He needs to organize his thoughts a little better before he can present them to Tommy.

“I- I have a speech too,” Buck assures him, “but it’s not ready yet.”

“That’s okay,” Tommy says easily. He’s looking at Buck with such naked adoration that it makes Buck’s heart soar. “Neither of us were expecting this today. Give it to me when you give me my ring.”

Buck nods and sniffles. “I will.”

Tommy reaches for him. “Can I have your hand, sweetheart?”

Buck gives Tommy his hand and Tommy slides the ring onto his finger. It fits perfectly. It looks like it’s always been there.

Illness be damned, Buck has to kiss him. They’re long past the point of caring about getting each other’s germs. Tommy’s lips are chapped from days of breathing through his mouth, he tastes stale, and his skin is hot and clammy. It’s one of the best kisses Buck has ever had.

They pull back when Tommy needs to breathe. Buck doesn’t go far. He runs a hand through Tommy’s hair and just admires him. Even like this, he’s gorgeous. Buck is so lucky. This is the person who looked at Buck and saw him for who he is—who looked at Buck and saw Evan. This is the person who has had a front-row seat to all of his flaws and insecurities and bad habits and found something to love about all of them. This is the person who doesn’t love him anyway but loves him because—who loves his jealousy because it makes him feel wanted, loves his clinginess because it makes him feel held, loves his tendency to speak without thinking because it’s honest. This is the person who never makes him feel insecure about wanting or needing anything; about who he is. This is the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with. His fiancé. His soon-to-be husband. His-

“Baby, can I please have my socks?” Tommy asks in a small voice.

“Oh!” Buck had gotten so sidetracked by the whole proposal thing that he forgot why he was looking through Tommy’s side of the sock drawer in the first place. Buck presses a quick kiss to Tommy’s forehead and jumps up. “Of course, I’m sorry.”

Buck goes back to their dresser. The wool socks are right on top. He doesn’t know how he missed them before. It feels like a sign, like he was supposed to find the ring first.

It feels like the universe saw how stressed he’s been about getting the proposal exactly perfect and decided this was the right way for them to get engaged. No big plans, no rehearsed speeches, no theatrics. Just love and care and the simple intimacy of this life they’ve made together: messy and raw and gross. It’s so imperfect that it’s kind of perfect. It’s them.

This is why none of Buck’s plans had felt right. He’d been so focused on making things perfect and exciting for Tommy that he’d lost sight of what really mattered. The strength of their relationship isn’t in the big, dramatic moments. Sure, they met during a hurricane, but they built their relationship in the quiet, imperfect, domestic moments as they learned how to take care of each other. Their relationship isn’t a fantasy: it’s reality. It works precisely because it’s imperfect and they both want it anyway—because they are imperfect and they both still want each other.

Buck puts the socks on Tommy’s feet for him, then he lays under the covers next to him. He pulls Tommy to snuggle into his chest. Tommy is still sniffly and clammy and, objectively, pretty disgusting. Buck pulls him closer.

Soon, Tommy drifts off. He snores in the loud, startling way he only does when he’s congested. Buck feels lucky to hear it. He runs his hand through Tommy’s hair and feels his ring catch on the strands. Happy, content, at ease; Buck settles in.

{give me kudos!}

[lorebird]

In which Ford struggles so badly to relate to other people that he wonders if he’s really human at all. The more isolated he becomes, the harder it is to reconcile with his own humanity.

[hoshifighting]

heyy there!!

I was wondering if you could write a fiction where the svt members give a silent treatment to the reader but she is too sensitive and starts crying (because she thinks she doesn't deserve them)

Please feel free to reject it if ur uncomfortable 😚😚

seventeen reaction when you start to cry when they give you a silent treatment

a/n: guyyyys im the worst with angst, but i tried!! 🙏

seungcheol the second you start shaking, he’s up on his feet, crossing the room and pulling you into a tight, crushing hug. he’s warm, solid, his hand gently cradling the back of your head. “my fault, my fault, my fault,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “i should’ve been better. i should’ve stopped this. i didn’t mean to hurt you. god, i didn’t mean it.”

jeonghan’s regretting it the whole time. too good at keeping his distance, until he sees the tears running down your cheeks. then, he freezes “hey, hey…” he pulls you into his arms, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “shit, i’m sorry. you know i was just being stupid, right?” he leans his forehead against yours, brushing his fingers through your hair. “don’t cry, baby. it kills me to see you like this.”

joshua he’s always so gentle, i dont even see him giving silent treatment to someone. he’s instantly at your side, cupping your face in his hands. “please don’t cry. i hate this. i hate that i made you feel like this.” his voice wavers as he presses his lips to your forehead, his touch feather-light. “i love you, okay? i’m so sorry. i should’ve never let it get this far.”

junhui’s been avoiding your gaze, trying to keep the silence going even though it’s killing him. that first broken sob makes him almost freak out, he’s at your side, his hands trembling as he touches your arm. “oh— i— no, don’t cry,” he murmurs, his voice in purew panic. he gently pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

hoshi snapd. of course he snaps. he practically flies out of his seat, rushing over to you, arms wide. “oh, shit—no, no, don’t cry, don’t cry,” he blurts out, voice frantic as he wraps you up in the tightest hug, almost lifting you off the ground with how desperate he is. his fingers stroke your back awkwardly, trying to soothe you, and his voice is trembling.

wonwoo when he sees the tears fall, something inside him bursts. he’s not good at dealing with emotions, but he can’t just sit there while you’re crying. he pulls you gently onto his lap, his hand awkwardly stroking your hair. “i’m sorry, i don’t always know how to show it… but i care. a lot. i never wanted to make you cry.” he presses a kiss to your temple, his heart racing. “don’t cry, please. or I will cry too.” wonwoo says—already crying.

woozi stands up, awkwardly hovering for a second before pulling you into a tight hug. “fuck… i’m sorry,” he whispers against your hair. “i didn’t mean to push you this far.” his grip on you tightens, and he rests his chin on your head, letting out a shaky breath. “i can’t stand seeing you like this.” fingers twitching like he’s about to break any second.

minghao crouches down now too, right in front of you. he doesn’t say much at first, just gently tugs your hands away from your face, his touch delicate, like he’s scared to break you even more. “this was stupid, i shouldn’t have done this. it was childish.” he holds your gaze, his eyes serious “you didn’t deserve that.” kisses the back of your hands, laying his head on your knees begging you for forgiveness.

mingyu is already full of shame before you even start crying. but when the sobs hit, he stops dead in his tracks. he rushes to you, kneeling down in front of you. his large hands cup your face, and his thumbs brush away your tears. “fuck, i never wanted to make you cry.” his voice cracks, and he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, his head buried in your shoulder. looks like he’s about to break down himself.

seokmin gets on his knees beside you, eyes wide and watery, his usual smile completely gone. “my love i—” he says in this tiny voice, like he’s terrified he made everything worse. his hands flutter near your arm before he finally grips your sleeve like he needs you to believe him. “please don’t cry because of me.”

seungkwan’s been fidgeting the whole time, hating every second of the silence. thinking it couldn't get worse until you break in front of him “oh my god,” he blurts out, rushing over to you, his voice frantic. he pulls you into his arms, holding you as tight as he can. he lets out a shaky breath. “you’re everything to me. i’m sorry for making you feel like this.”

vernon is not sure how to fix it, thinking that in all ways, this sucked. the second you start crying, his chest tightens, and he’s at your side, pulling you into his lap. “i’m so so sorry. i didn’t mean to let it get this bad.” he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, trying to look into your eyes, pressing his lips into a line when you look away. “i’m here, okay? i’m here.” he presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

chan would be standing by the door, but the second you sob again, he’s crossing the room in three big steps, hands flinching to touch you and flinching back at him again as if he would burn you if he did. he would rather sit beside you still in silence, to find the best words since he hasn't talked during this whole time.

[annievrse]

the sled problem

roronoa zoro x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: thinking about alabasta where there's no room for matsuge to carry you, so zoro puts you on the sled with chopper (feat. a lot of reader x crew too!). w/c: 1.1k c/w: zoro refers to reader as 'my girl' & 'girlfriend', she/her pronouns, established relationship, reader is shorter than zoro. a/n: thanks everyone for voting! here is bf!zoro.

"My turn!" Luffy exclaims, feet dragging through the sand. You eye him wearily as it seems he used the last of his energy to make it known that he was to take your place on the sled. You wince when he stumbles, the last of the water hanging by a rope around his neck.

"No way, moron," Zoro grunts behind you. "My girl and Chopper only."

Next to Luffy, Usopp lets out a noise of disagreement, his body weight relying on the walking stick in his hand. "Surely she can walk— Ouch!"

Chopper's weak giggle cuts the thick air beside you, and you look to where the sharpshooter lays motionless in the orange sand. Glancing back, you see Zoro's fist lowering back to his side.

"Stop complaining," Nami says, adjusting the scarf on her head. "We'll be there soon."

"You're on the back of a camel," Usopp splutters as he gets to his feet. Matsuge grunts in dismissal, and Nami pretends not to hear her crewmate and turns to face the horizon.

"Let me on!" Luffy attempts to yell, staggering toward the swordsman. "C'mon, Chopper, you're an animal fit for the desert."

The reindeer shakes his head and clasps his arms around your bicep. "No way, you try having a fur coat in his heat."

Usopp giggles, though he eyes the waterskin that hangs against Luffy's chest instead of the medic. "I'll cut it off you if you'd like—"

A collective gasp sounds through the group; this time, you kick your leg out to trip him over, realising too late that he was speaking about the water and not Chopper.

Zoro chokes out a cackle at the thump of his crewmate against the sand. "Atta girl."

Usopp makes no move to get up. He lays there, delirious, until Sanji grips the back of his shirt and tugs him along. "Idiot."

The only sound is the wind and the crunch of shoes in the desert. Sighing, you start to feel bad for the others when you see them struggling to stay upright, so, you shuffle Chopper over so you can get up.

"'Ro," You say, turning to face his back. Zoro stops and looks at you with his brows furrowed. "Here, Luffy—"

The group groans as you stand, dusting the sand from your clothes.

Zoro shakes his head and scoffs. "I'm not pulling that moron. Sit back down."

With pleading eyes, you shove your captain toward the sled, carefully avoiding Chopper. "Just pull him; I'll walk with you for a while."

Zoro grumbles and suddenly jolts the sled, so Luffy slides off. "Oops."

"Please, Ro," You say, touching his forearm. "Just until I get tired."

"Yeah, just until she gets tired," Luffy mumbles, heaving himself onto the sled. "Which will be never."

Zoro glares at you, but the look is too familiar for you to take it harshly. Then, he starts walking again, purposefully making a face of discomfort.

"Thanks, baby," you smile, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

"Aw, baby, that's so cute," Usopp mumbles, his face just inches off the ground thanks to Sanji's grip. "Zoro, baby, my baby—"

Sanji rolls his eyes, drops him, and keeps walking. "Do you ever shut up?"

You glance back at him, but Zoro nudges you with his shoulder. "He'll catch up."

Sighing, you stop and walk back to Usopp. Zoro knows what you'll make him do, but god knows he’ll always do what you tell him.

You try your best to help the sniper to his feet, muttering that he won't have to walk anymore, giving Usopp the energy to run to the sled. So much for feeling bad for him...

"You need to learn to ignore them," Sanji says, plucking the cigarette between his lips. "Let the moss head drag you through the dunes. He clearly wants to."

You look back and slow down to match his steps, smiling at Sanji's attempt at being nice to your boyfriend. "It's the least I can do."

The cook begins to counter your lame argument but stops short when he sees Zoro waiting for you ahead: his captain, the sharpshooter, and the reindeer piled on the wooden sand sled.

"I'm doing all this for you, and you ditch me for the cook."

You can feel Sanji roll his eyes beside you. Laughing, you quicken your steps to catch up to the swordsman.

"Jealous?"

Zoro scoffs and readjusts his grip on the ropes. "Of him? I'd rather die."

There's a sigh behind you, and then Sanji speeds past you, hands clasped before him as he asks Nami if she needs anything.

Zoro knocks your shoulder with his bicep, bringing you back to the man beside you. He's a man of very few words, but you know what he's trying to say. Quit teasing me.

Rolling your eyes, you giggle. "Stop flirting, we're in the desert."

"Seriously?"

You shrug and glance at the boys on the sled, your sweet expression turning to irritation when you see them sitting cross-legged, whispering animatedly while Chopper lies half-delirious from heat stroke. “Seriously?”

“Yeah? I just asked that—“

You stop walking and hit an oblivious Luffy upside the head when he passes. Your captain tumbles onto the sand, Usopp following soon after with expletives falling from his lips.

Huffing, you reclaim your place next to Chopper. "Manipulative idiots."

“You got that right,” Chopper mumbles. You shake your head and watch as the pair stumble back to their feet and start complaining again.

"Why?" Usopp cries. "Zoro control your girlfriend; she's mean."

Zoro laughs deeply, like a warning. "Usopp, I swear to god, if I hear your voice one more time, I won't hesitate to kick your ass."

"Sorry," Usopp mumbles to you. "Sorry, Zoro."

"Damn right," your boyfriend states. "And Luffy?"

Your captain's head raises, face screwed in anticipation of what the swordsman had for him.

"Give her the water."

"But—"

"Now, moron!"

You go to counter Zoro's demand, insisting that it is fine, but Luffy hastily rips the rope from his neck and stretches his rubber arm to drop the waterskin in your lap.

"Thanks, Luffy."

His only response is a whiny grumble.

"Here, Chop," You unscrew the lid and push the bottle towards the reindeer. "Drink."

Chopper lifts his head weakly. "No, that's yours."

Rolling your eyes, you shove it further into his tiny chest. "Zoro won't curse you for drinking it, I promise."

Nodding, Chopper takes the waterskin between his hooves and sips.

"Hey, no fair! Why do she and the reindeer get water, and we don't?"

Zoro stops dead in his tracks and drops the rope to the sled. "Usopp."

A terrified scream echoes through the barren desert, and then Zoro rounds the sled and tackles the sharpshooter to the ground.

Nami groans from the front of the group. "Can't we have a normal trip for once?"

Vivi's soft voice follows. "Doesn't look like it."

"Please! Please, I'm sorry! Zoro, please! I'm not meant for combat!"

"Shut it, asshole," Zoro sighs. "You speak to my girl like that again? See what happens." 

[mayasikeu]

Hi I wanted to request enhypen x fan like nda kind of thing

so sorry for taking ages on this ive been really busy 🫶

"You really shouldn't be here, Y/n," Jake said.

You swallowed hard, "I know."

He pinned you to the wall, closing the gap between you two. "Do you have any idea what could happen if anyone finds out?"

"That's why I signed the NDA, Jake."

"Still, how can I trust you?"

Your pulse quickened as he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming you as his tantalising breath fired you up. "You can Jake," you whispered. "I would never do anything to hurt you."

He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek gently. You shivered under his touch. "Why are you really here, Y/n?"

You closed your eyes, savouring the feel of his skin on yours. "Because I couldn't stop thinking about you."

Jake cupped your face in his hands, "You're playing with fire, you know that, right?"

"I don't care."

His lips twisted into a playful smirk. "You should."

You leaned towards him, your body beginning to ache for more. "Maybe. But I can't help it. I've wanted this for so long."

He let out a slow breath. His eyes never left yours as he stared at you lovingly, his gaze overflowing with sincerity and affection. "You have no idea how dangerous this is."

You lifted a hand to his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your palm. "Your eyes are telling me otherwise."

"Alright then. If that's how you want it."

Suddenly, you felt a pang of disappointment, but it quickly vanished as he stepped back, reaching for the hem of his shirt.

"Take it off," he ordered.

He groaned as he watched you take your shirt off, a sound that sent a thrill of adrenaline through your spine. "Now the bra."

You did as he asked, unhooking the lacy bra before tossing it on the carpet. "Good girl," he murmured, stepping forward again.

This time, when he reached for you, you didn't hesitate. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close, and kissed him.

You whimpered against his lips. His tongue slipped past your lips, exploring your mouth hungrily. You met his thrusts eagerly and clutched onto him, afraid he might disappear if you let go. It all felt so surreal. Never in a million years would you have ever imagined yourself in such a situation with your bias.

He broke the kiss with a groan, his forehead resting against yours. "God, baby, you drive me fucking crazy," he panted.

His expression turned serious. "Are you sure about this?"

You nodded immediately, “Absolutely."

Jake's hands moved lower, unzipping your jeans and sliding them down your legs. He knelt before you, his face inches from your throbbing heat.

"You're already wet for me," he teased. With that, he pulled down your panties, exposing your glistening pussy.

You moaned as Jake's tongue flicked on your clit. He licked and sucked on your sweet bud. His fingers delved into your tight hole as he made out with your cunt.

"Oh, Jake... I'm gonna cum!" you cried out, your orgasm beginning to build up.

Jake didn't stop, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony. You threw your head all the way back as you came on his tongue. “You taste fucking amazing.” he hummed, licking all of your juices like a puppy.

"Get on your knees," he commanded, his voice suddenly cold and authoritative.

You obeyed instantly, sinking to your knees before him.

"Undo my belt," he ordered.

You tugged at the belt, your fingers shaking with excitement.

He exhaled sharply, his breathing heavy. "Now pull my pants down."

You did as he instructed, sliding the fabric down until they pooled at his feet.

"Like what you see?" he taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance.

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his large cock. "You’re just as big as I imagined."

He smirked, reaching down to grasp your chin. "Good. Because you're going to show me just how much you like it."

He released your chin, his hand moving to stroke himself. "Suck it."

Your breath hitched, a thrill coursing through your veins. You hesitated only a moment before reaching out, wrapping your fingers around his veiny shaft. He let out a hiss of pleasure, his eyes closing as you began to stroke him.

"That's it baby," he encouraged. "Now put me in your mouth."

You complied, opening your mouth and taking the tip of him inside. He groaned, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.

You swirled your tongue around the head, tasting his salty pre-cum all over your tastebuds. Jake's hands tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as you deep-throated him, taking him all the way to the back of your throat effortlessly.

"Oh fuck," he cursed, his fingers untangling to rest on the back of your head. "You're killing me, Y/n."

He slowly fucked his dick into your mouth as he let out soft moans with every thrust. You gagged slightly, the sensation both uncomfortable and exhilarating.

He pulled back, his eyes blazing with desire. "On the bed, now," he rasped.

Jake entered you in one deep thrust, burying himself in your cunt. You gasped as Jake began to move, his cock massaging your G spot with precision. He pounded into you, his balls slapping against your ass relentlessly.

Your body trembled with pleasure, back arching off his bed as the room became filled with his name. He fucked you slow and sensually, wanting to enjoy the feeling of you clenching around him for as long as you both could take it.

"Fuck, that's it," Jake groaned. "You're gonna make me cum."

"Cum for me, baby," he grunted, his own release building.

Your body tightened around Jake's cock as you climaxed, your pussy milking his cock. Jake roared as he emptied his load deep inside of you, his hot cum mixing with your juices.

[quitesins]

Deku’s Type!

Masterlist

Tags: 18+, Sfw-ish, short drabble, fem!reader, aged up! characters, teacher! Deku, kinda vulgar and fucky, im gonna tag misogyny, reader is implied to be “fucked in the head” whatever you want that to mean ^0^!

The boys gather round for drinks and discuss the type of women Deku seems to be fond of, much to his dismay…

“Sounds like Deku’s type,” Katsuki says, smirk in his voice.

Izuku frowns. “I do not have a type.”

Now that makes the table still for a second, not long enough for Izuku to predict the thoughts of his friends, but enough for the rest of the guys to come to the same conclusion.

Katsuki, Denki and Sero are the first to burst out in laughter. Katsuki’s cackle the loudest of them all.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” Katsuki laughs so hard he doesn’t even care that Denki is half laid over him, “You don’t see that shit?”

“Come on…” Denki says, still slapping Katsuki’s thigh as he laughs, “you have such a type!”

Izuku frowns, sterner, deciding to ignore the immature three and turning to his other friends for support. Both Iida and Shouto look away, their expressions telling.

“I do not have a type,” Izuku reiterates, firmly.

Katsuki shakes his head, finally shoving Denki off him. “All those girls you’ve dated? Exact fuckin’ same.”

Even Tokoyami turns his head, eyes never leaving his drink but a twinkle of unfamiliar mirth evident within them.

“What does that even mean?!” Izuku exasperates, looking around for a single ally.

“It means,” Mineta chimes in, and although Izuku enjoys his company, he already knows he’s about to hear something deplorable, “you like them sick in the head!”

Shouto can’t hold in his sputter, finally contributing to the conversation— with a laugh. The rest of the table is hooting, a few groans at the wording but nothing at the sentiment. All while Izuku looks absolutely scandalised, clutching his chest, eyes wide open.

“That’s horrible!” Izuku cries, so stunned he can’t even trail off into one of his signature rambles in defence, “that’s- that’s. What?!”

“All the girls you’ve liked man…” Sero starts, “they’re not exactly little miss sunshines are they.” He stops, which Izuku almost takes reprieve in until he continues, “you seem to like them a little off putting.”

“Yeah so he can fucking fix them,” Katsuki snorts.

“It’s your saviour complex,” Denki adds, chin tilted up, trying to look profound.

Izuku is quick to interject, waving his hands around. “You’re the pro heroes.” The poor boy tries his best to convince. “We all have saviour complexes!”

“Not like you do, mon chéri,” Aoyama tuts, then winks before saying, “Hero of Japan.”

“Izuku, They do still call you an honorary pro.” Shouto is trying to be nice, Izuku thinks. “And I’m sure your students think the same.”

Izuku grimaces, he knows he’s always had a complex that encompassed so much more than just his dreams to be a hero, but he doesn’t need it sullied by… that.

“Don’t ruminate.” Katsuki presses a drink into Izuku’s hands. “You like women a little fucked up, so what.”

Katsuki’s words do nothing to comfort Izuku, instead it has Denki and Mineta laughing all over again while Kirishima attempts to calm them down. Iida scolds Katsuki a little, doing a half bow in apology to the passing waiter clearly peeved by all the noise. Deku pays no attention, beginning to spiral in his head.

It feels wrong to view you that way. To view the women he’s loved that way. But he’s not an idiot, maybe a little blind at times but now that the proof is there— oh god—

“Listen, Midoriya, I am sure there are many reasons you have loved the women you have.” Iida notices the growing dread upon Izuku’s face. “You also like to save people. There is nothing wrong with that.”

Tokoyami and Shouji nod in agreement, Ojiro giving his own sympathetic smile.

“Yeah bro.” Kirishima raises a fist in camaraderie, though it’s definitely out of pity. “It’s manly to want to care for others.”

“Think he more than cares for ‘em,” Katsuki slickly adds, in an artful voice that Izuku is more that familiar with, “the fucker get off on that shit.”

This time, it’s Shouto who scolds him, Katsuki’s implications clear enough for even him to catch on. They rest of the guys begin to bicker in the background, one half in defence of Izuku’s less than innocent tastes in women, the other intent on making fun of the golden boy for once.

Though the attention is finally off him, it does not help Izuku feel any better.

Because there’s a thought that lingers… it’s a sick thought, a terrible, horrible, awfully honest thought.

Shit, he does like them a bit fucked up.

My truth is i still don’t know how to punctuate dialogue… pleek don’t look and none of dat…

Anyways I kind of wanna elaborate on Deku’s hero complex coming out in other ways in the 8 years of studying and becoming a teacher, like someone has to deal with it…

[cassi-pokeblogging-hub]

Saying No

Okay so a conversation in a discord server inspired me to make this.

You guys can say no to things. You do not always have to "Yes And" everything that comes to you.

Like. Usually when we talk about rping, we talk about saying yes and. continuing on the scene, not shutting interaction down. We're pretty lucky with how this rp stuff works where in character denying and saying no CAN work a lot better than in standard improv without fully stopping the scene and kinda shutting it down, but that's not what I'm talking about.

I've seen a lot of people who kinda. Accidentally start god modding or kinda burst their way into plotlines without asking and like. This is public rp! Anyone can join! But there is a certain degree where you gotta stop first and ask or just not say it.

But sometimes people do not think first and just do. Maybe sending a magic anon that solves all of your oc's problems. Maybe they have dimension hopping powers and are like "Don't worry! I've come to your reality and I can help you get away from your problems instantly!", maybe your character really wants a mega stone and you have plans to have a whole thing about them working to get this mega stone and learning to mega evolving their partner and then someone mystery gifts or pelipper mails the item to you immediatly.

You don't have to "Yes, and" that. You can just say "No, you didn't do that". You are allowed to say no when someone crosses your boundaries and is affecting your plot.

Is someone trying to involve you in their plot without asking? "That is not happening in my character's universe" Is someone trying to say they're just there at a crucial event with your character when they never asked? "Your character is not able to be there. Please delete that post".

Yes And only goes so far. There is a time and a place where you will need to say No, and that is just as important to RP as going with the flow! If someone's fucking with your plot, its your job to tell them to stop. People can get involved, sure, but sometimes people try and get way more involved than what you're comfortable and its okay to tell them to back off.

I've also seen people feel that stuff like Muse Mixup Madness or Pelipper Mail are mandatory things they HAVE to do? You don't! You don't need to do anything even if others are! So I guess this is your reminder that you can ignore pelipper mail and magic anons and just asks in general that you dont like! you can turn pelipper mail and magic anons off completely! you can ignore peoples replies to your posts if they fuck with what you have going on. you can tell people they did not do things that would fuck with your characters and story. you can just not do muse mixup madness when it rolls around. you can just not do follower special events. you don't have to participate in anything you dont want, and you dont have to allow people to do whatever even if it makes you uncomfortable.

Other people can do what they want, but you have a right to say no when they try to involve you.

[mills-73]

Sex on the Rocks

When Stan and Ford are dared to take some kinda of potion they found out in the woods…they become sort of feral for you

the Pines twins x reader

TAGS: 18+, smut, p + v, sex potions n what not

—

You, Stanford, and Stanley are all playing a round of truth or dare to help with your guys’ boredom at the Mystery Shack. Stan decided to close the shack early due to lack of customers, to his dismay.

“Hm…Ford! Truth or dare?” You smirk, leaning back on the raggedy couch that was a new addition to the living room.

“Truth,” he answers.

You think for a moment trying to come up with something. “What’s one thing you can’t live without?”

“My research,” Ford answers almost instantaneously.

Stanley coughs out a rough laugh from beside you, saying something about how boring that answer was. Then it’s your turn, Stanley looking you up and down with a small smile. “Truth or dare, y/n?”

“I gonna go safe and pick truth.”

Stan smirks. “What’s something we don’t know about you?”

You think for a second. “I’ve been to jail before.” Stanford gasps while Stanley looks almost prideful at you. “Shoplifted a pair of shoes I really wanted when I was seventeen.”

You guys go around like that for a few minutes until it’s your turn to ask Stanley. He picks dare. “You and Ford have to drink those small vials of liquid we found in the woods the other day.” You smirk at their disgusted faces. “You can’t back out now!”

The two brothers groan, Stanford getting up and exiting the room. He comes back a few minutes later, two vials in his hand. He hands on to Stanley and keeps the other for himself.

“Bottoms up, I guess,” Stanley scrunches his nose at the pinkish red tint of the liquid. He drinks his first, Stanford following a second after.

Their faces morph into that of distaste and you burst out laughing at them when Stanford starts gagging like a cat. Stanley just coughs but says he’s had worse. They both stare at you for a moment, probably contemplating firing you over this little antic. You smile innocently at them, but you continue playing the game until you notice they start looking a little…off.

Their faces are redder than usual, brown eyes glossy, and they seem like they can’t keep their gaze off of you anymore.

“Are you okay guys?” You ask.

They share a credulous look before turning back to you. Stanley bites his lip, looking your body up and down, his hand reaching for the pillow behind him to place on his lap. Stanford just looks at the floor, his breathing getting slightly erratic.

“I guess this is a good time to stop. You guys seem a little…sick?”

“I think it was the stuff we drank,” Stanford mutters quietly. “I don’t know what it was but…I feel…” He looks up at you, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. “Fuck,” he groans. “We have a problem.”

You tilt your head. “What kind of problem?” Your eyes flicker over to Stanley again, looking a little out of it.

Stanford sighs. “I think it was a lust potion. I’ve researched them before but I’ve never—I’ve never actually drank one.”

“A lust potion??” You question, not entirely following. Gazing at the pillow covering Stanley’s lap you finally understand.

Oh my god. They’re fucking horny.

“They’re made by the gnomes. They place them in the forest for their finders to drink and when they do they become…sexually stimulated. And until they fulfill their desires they’ll be…” he stutters off, as if he doesn’t want to say it. “They’ll be aroused.”

“Oh,” you breathe. “Can’t you guys like…masturbate until it goes away?” You ask.

Stanford shakes his head. “We have to fulfill our desires. As in, we have to give in to what we really want before it can go away. What you’re suggesting won’t work.”

Before you can process what you’re about to say, your mouth moves on its own accord. “Is there anyway I can help?” Now it’s your turn to blush. They both snap their gaze to you, almost piercing your skin with the amount of heat and desire loaded behind them. “Wait, I-I didn’t—”

Your throat bobs, mouth impeccably dry. The way they’re both looking at you makes your skin feel heated, your body thrumming from the extra attention. You won’t lie, you find the twins incredibly attractive, no matter their age. But you never thought they could be so…intense like this.

The air around the three of you is tense. You can see the slight bulge in Stanford’s slacks, and you assume underneath that pillow, Stanley’s is evident as well. In a quick motion, Stanford stands, walking the short distance to where you sit on the couch. He stands in front of you, your neck tilting to meet his eyes and not look other places.

“Don’t offer unless you’re ready to pay the price, sweetheart,” Stanford whispers.

You’re a little shocked by the roughness of his voice, never hearing that him talk like that before. To your left, Stanley shifts a little closer to you, his eyes never leaving your body. You look between the two, a little overwhelmed by their predatory gazes.

“I-I mean, if it’ll help,” you whisper.

“I think it would,” Stanley finally speaks. “After all, it only goes away when you fulfill your desires, right?” Stanford nods.

The word click a little. “You guys, desire me?”

Stanford’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, tilting your head back just enough to keep your focus on him. “More than just desire, y/n.”

Stanley reaches out and caresses your thigh, swiping his thumb over your knee. You shiver at the contact, arousal beginning to pool in your gut. “I’m with him on that,” he says, leaning in slightly. “Ever since you came to work at the Shack I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

Your head starts to feel lightly, the words coming out of Stanley’s mouth taking their time to process. You turn your head, mouth parted in a soft gasp. “Y-You what?”

“You heard him,” Stanford growls, making you look up at him again. “And I’m fine with sharing if he is. And of course, if you want it, too.”

You bite your lip, contemplating for a moment. You do want them, and fuck, both of them at the same time? How can you possibly say no to that? So you nod your head. “Yes…fuck. Please.”

Stanford smirks and Stanley chuckles against the skin at your neck, placing a soft kiss on the tender skin. “Then you better hold on, sweetheart.”

With a quickness that makes your head spin, they drag you to one of the bedrooms that you recognize as Stanford’s when you finally stop being so dizzy. Stanley comes up behind you, pressing his front into the small of your back just enough for you to feel his hardening length against the swell of your ass. Stanford comes back into few, standing so close that your breasts push against his chest. You get the feeling you’re going to be a complete and total wreck before the day even over.

Stanford leans in, his lips brushing over yours in a teasing like motion. As you try to connect your mouths, he smirks and moves back a little. You whine embarrassingly. With a small laugh, he finally gives in and kisses you.

Behind you, Stanley grips your hips and forces you to grind back on his clothed cock, hissing at the contact. Stanford kisses you with such passion that you can barely keep up with his pace. For two old men who knew how demanding they could be when it comes to pleasure?

You moan into Stanford’s mouth as Stanley moves his hands to your front, cupping your breasts in his palms. He kneeds them slowly, thumbs caresses over your hardening nipples. Heat explodes throughout every nerve, an ache beginning to form between your thighs as you get more and more desperate for more.

Ford kisses down your jaw and to your neck, suckling on the most sensitive parts, leaving small, red marks in his path.

“So perfect,” Stan mutters in your ear, continuing his assault on your nipples.

You moan breathlessly, grinding your hips so your against both men. You turn your head slightly, meeting Stan’s watchful gaze. Without a moments thought, you slam your lips against his, whimpering softly. Ford grasps the hem of your shirt, tugging it off, which makes you and Stan disconnect for a few short seconds, but he’s back to kissing you harshly before you can even tell him to.

Without your shirt in the way, Stan unclasps your bra, Ford slipping the straps down your shoulders so it falls to the floor, your tits in full display. Ford leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth, his hand coming up to play with the other. You moan into Stan’s mouth before breaking the kiss again to rest your head back against his shoulder.

“Fuck,” you sigh. “You guys are so fucking hot.”

Ford’s tongue laps around your nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. The contact makes you buck your hips forward into his cock before rocking back to rub your ass against Stan’s.

Sinking down to his knees, Ford unbuttons your jeans and pulls them down, taking your underwear with them. You step out of each leg and kick them aside, leaving you bare and vulnerable. You feel the ghost of his breath against your pussy, arching your back, begging silently for his mouth. Stan nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses where Ford left little hickeys in his wake. You feel Ford’d tongue lick a long stride against your clit and your convulse.

“She’s already so fucking wet for us. I can’t wait to make you cum all over my face, doll.”

“Please,” you beg. “I need your mouth on me.”

Ford smirks but closes his mouth around the mound of your pussy, flicking his tongue over your clit in a motion that makes your knees buckle. And you probably would have fallen if it weren’t for Stan holding you up.

Your chest heaves, moan after moan being drawn from the back of your throat. You can feel the flames engulfing your cheeks, dusting your face with a tint of red that almost matches Ford’s turtleneck. Stan whispers praises into your ear, his fingers tweaking at your nipples, adding extra pleasure that pushes you closer to the edge.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as you cry out, Ford devouring you as if it’s his life mission. “Oh god! Yes! Fuck, Stanford,” you almost scream.

Ford continues his pursuit, licking and sucking on your clit in ways that drive you fucking mad, the obscene sounds of spit and your own wetness mixing with your moans to create a symphony of sin. Your hips buck, and you feel that coil in your stomach tightening faster and faster.

“Oh god,” you whimper. “I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“Cum for us, y/n.” Stanley growls into your ear. Whatever was in that potion makes them fucking feral.

At his words, the coil snaps and you explode, your orgasm wrecking your body and leaving you dizzy. Ford continues to lap at your folds until you’re whimpering and pleading for him to have mercy on you. He stands up, tongue cleaning his lips as if he’s just had a very devine meal.

“Go to the bed.”

Stan pushes you by the small of your back, turning you around to lay you down on the soft sheets of Ford’s bed. You watch them undress, Stan crawling between your legs, holding open your thighs with two very big hands and Ford coming up beside your head. And fuck are they huge, angry red tips dripping with precum.

Stanley uses the tip of his cock to slide against your folds, never entering but teasing the head as you whimper and whine. You need to be filled up and used, you want it so bad.

You turn your head towards Ford, his cock almost even with your mouth, and you know exactly what to do. Your tongue darts out, catching a drop of salty precum that threatens to drip off the tip, causing him to groan and thread all six fingers through your hair, pulling your fact closer.

“Fuck, y/n,” Ford groans, slipping the head of his cock last your lips. “Suck my cock like the good little girl you are. Can you handle that?”

You nod, taking more of him in your mouth. Suddenly you feel Stan pushing his cock inside of you in one big thrust, causing you to gasp and jerk your head forward, taking Ford’s cock to the back of your throat.

Stan groans from above you, giving you only a second to adjust before he pulls back out and thrusts his hips again. Your bodies mold together as one the sound of skin slapping echoing off the walls as he sets an almost brutal pace, his cock so deep that it presses against every sensitive spot inside of you. Your moans are muffled by the gag of Ford’s cock, the feeling of being stuffed so full exquisitely tasteful.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Stan groans, keeping up his pace. His hands hold your hips down. “Yeah..fucking take it. So. Fucking. Good.” He punctuates each word with another thrust of your hips.

From above, Ford begins to thrust his hips, fucking your throat slowly yet going so deep you almost gag at the sensation, eyes pooling with tears that threaten to fall. Your whimpers and moans are drowned out by the cock stuffed so far down your throat that you can’t think about anything else but the two older men that have you at their complete disposal.

Their grunts are deep and guttering, your body shivering with sheer pleasure. You’re close again, and if they don’t slow down anytime soon you’re doing to fall over the edge. Possibly more than once.

You try to speak but Ford only fucks your mouth harder, shutting you up quick.

Stan’s pace begins to faulter and he whispers. “So close, baby, fuck. You’re so perfect. Like you were made to take my dick like this.”

His hand comes up to tweak your nipples, and you’re a fucking goner. You practically scream around Ford’s cock, body convulsing with pleasure so hard Stan has to hold you in place. With a loud grunt, his orgasm follows right after, filling you up with cum as he rides it out. He slowly pulls out of you, feeling his cock pulse at the overstimulation, before he moves out from between your legs.

“Think you can take another cock in your pretty little pussy, doll?” Ford smirks down at you, pulling your head off of his cock, and you gasp, nodding eagerly.

“Please,” you beg him.

Ford moves to take Stan’s place, not wasting a second before he’s inside of you, fucking you fast and hard. You scream out at the overstimulation, your back arching off the bed as you try to grasp for something to hold on to. One of your hands finds the bed sheets, your other finds Stan’s hand, squeezing so hard you’re sure to leave little crescent shaped bruises.

It doesn’t take long before Ford’s hips begin to stutter, his orgasm drawing closer. You wrap your legs around his waist, tugging him in, trapping him inside of you, and you can’t help but fall over the edge again with him.

Your pussy clenches around him, your mouth parted in a silent scream as you milk him for what he’s worth, and with a growl he spills inside of you.

The only sound that echoes in the room for a moment is the heavy breathing before a whimper drawls out of you as Ford pulls out. You can feel yourself gush, cum dripping out of you and onto the bed.

“Fuck,” you groan. “I’m gonna be so fucking sorry after this.”

The twins chuckle and rush to clean you up. You smile tenderly as Stan slips behind you and Ford cuddles your front.

“I think we need to find more of those potions,” you mumble softly into Ford’s chest.

The vibrations of his laugh startle you for a moment, but you settle. “Honestly, I don’t think we’ll need them. We’re never leaving this bed again.”

~

ty you the person who had this saved so i could repost it 🫡 didn’t meant to delete it off the page.

[accirax]

Danganronpa: Despair Time Chapter 2 Episode 14 Dissection

I can't think of how to introduce this dissection other than just saying "god damn??". This chapter-- especially its second part-- has been a wild ride, and one that it appears we're nearing the end of. However, we still have one important question left to answer, which I'm sure I'll talk about here. So, let's chat.

SPOILERS for Danganronpa: Despair Time Chapter 2 Episode 14.

Also, I will be discussing Ace and Eden as equally likely blackened candidates in this post. If it will upset you to hear about the prospects of either or both of them being the killer, you might want to sit this one out.

Given what happens later in the episode, it's very interesting that the episode began with (more or less) Ace "admitting" that he has no idea how the murder mechanism worked. A truthful method of disqualification, or a masterful play by Ace to ask Teruko to ask him about the murder method only to pretend that he has no idea what it was? Time will have to tell on that one, because I honestly have no leads.

Similarly, is this Eden being genuinely shaken up and not remembering what transpired in the Gym, or trying to play the helpless innocent card to get out of having to help Teruko explain the murder method that she stole? Spoilers for my thoughts later in this dissection, I guess: they're so evenly matched that it's crazy.

I've always thought that Hu is the prettiest DRDT character, and this episode did nothing but prove me right. Hot damn, ma'am.

The insistence that this questioning is "traumatizing [Nico]" makes me think that Hu could be projecting her own experiences on to them. Perhaps she was once an innocent in a situation for which she kept taking the blame? That would be interesting as another connection between Hu and Nico, of both of them having taken the blame for someone else's follies.

This was a hilarious comeback; never change, Ace. Or, maybe you do need to change slightly, to become a less cowardly and impulsive person. Or maybe I should at least be rooting for you to have the chance to change in the sense that you live long enough to have that work out for you.

Yet another instance of J being the one to say that murder is bad. I wonder if this has to do with her character/backstory in some particular way (although given what we know about her past I have no idea what that would be), or if DRDTdev just needed a judgmental and confrontational person who would snap back at anyone to take over these kinds of lines.

(That's not me dunking on J's character btw she's valid for this)

This was a really clever way for Charles to phrase this to make Hu listen and settle down. I appreciate the out-of-the-box yet logical thinking. (Also I missed hearing Charles' voice :,D)

Woah, I was not expecting to get a Closing Argument comic for the Gym murder, but I am obviously delighted that we have one! Also, OH MY GOD, THE CEILING GRATE. How did none of us even think to consider that as part of the murder mechanism?

However, there are still some aspects of the state of the Gym that haven't yet been accounted for with this version of the murder timeline. I don't really think it's anything that would stop Nico from being Ace's would-be killer at this point, but I'll list them out here in case they are or in case they turn out to be relevant to Arei's murder. I'll also be trying to debunk them, though.

Moved Benches: Some of the benches near the pullup bar were knocked over. These probably fell either in some sort of struggle while knocking out Ace, or when Ace's body fell from the fan.

Moved Weight Rack: The weight rack was moved closer to the bench press and flipped on its back. I guess this really was also knocked over in the same fashion, no matter how unrealistically difficult it should have been to move due to its weight? Or it really was "workout preferences"???

Nico's Missing Cowl: When Teruko and Eden found Nico at the scene of the crime, they weren't wearing their typical dark cape thing. I have no clue why. You could say that Nico was trying to look less instantly recognizable, but it's not as if anyone (other than maybe Teruko) who saw a dark-haired 5'5" individual in a blue shirt instead of a gray cowl would think it was anyone other than Nico. There's also ye olde theory that they might have used it to soak up blood somewhere, but 1) Ace seems to have lost less blood than it may have seemed, and 2) the cowl was still not seen anywhere in the crime scene. I think I remember speculating that after Nico hypothetically used it to soak up blood (or, on second thought, maybe used it to gag Ace with the turpentine), they then stuck it in the fridge to hide it for the time being, at which point MonoTV discarded it and Nico got a new cape from their room. Maybe if it was used to apply the turpentine, Nico also could've put it away to prevent themselves from being affected by the fumes? I guess that's what I'm going with.

Lack of Tape on Pullup Bar: So, this one is obviously relevant to the murder already because Rose not being able to do a pullup is part of what tips off Teruko to the fact that something is off with the tape. However, I have no idea why the tape actually got removed from the bar. I still maintain that I don't think anyone could have stolen the tape off of that bar and repurposed it elsewhere-- most online sources seem to agree that kinesiology tape isn't reusable, and the fact that it was already wrapped around the bar in such a tight spiral would make it difficult to conform to any new specific shapes. My best guess is that Nico might have tried to use the bar instead of the light grate at first, determined that the tape was preventing the wire from sliding properly, and then removed the tape before determining the bar still didn't work. Or, Nico could have tried using the bar before settling on the broom, and thinking that it wouldn't work with tape on it... for some reason? Kinda scratching my head here.

I wonder how long ago it was. It's been four days since the Chapter 2 motive was revealed, although Ace was attacked only two days after the motive. Furthermore, Ace had started bullying Nico to some level already by the end of Chapter 1. I'm sure that Nico must have known what their secret was and probably didn't want it to be shared. My guess would be that they probably started cooking on murder pretty shortly after the new motive was released. That would also work with Charles-via-Whit letting everyone know what the custom weapons were in the first Class Trial.

This was the perfect response for Nico's character. They don't understand why an untruthful "sorry" would actually serve as a courtesy for most people, so they try to say what they feel and get ostracized for it.

Gotta say though, Ace, that was a pretty aggressive reaction from someone who said he "didn't need other people to tell him lies just to keep him happy" ;) (/j)

Damn, way to throw Levi under the bus. I can see why, for someone like Nico, they would want to assert themselves as not the most abnormal person here, though. I just want them to be neurodivergent buddies :(

If that's the case, then I'd have to imagine that we won't be seeing Nico as a killer again down the line. However, they could also just mean "getting caught"/"going in without a solid gameplan," so it's still possible we will. There's also the possibility of them doing something more like a sacrifice kill, although it would take a lot of character work to make something like that feel within Nico's nature.

Sorry to keep screenshotting every little thing Nico says but they keep saying really interesting things. The fact that Nico specifically mentions their father as opposed to "parents" or "family" makes me think that we'll hear more about their father specifically sometime in the future. Or, who knows, maybe their other parent left or died.

Nico: I don't expect you to forgive me. Very few people ever do. So I don't see the point in acting sorry.

This was very interesting as an addendum to the above screenshot. What exactly did Nico "ask for" forgiveness for in the past? Was it just more social blunders, as they described in ch2-e2, or did they get into more trouble closer to this level than we realized? It could also be an indication that Nico has spent time with people who believe that being nonbinary is a crime that Nico needs to feel sorry for. Fascinating stuff, indeed.

Points for Ace being the killer. We know that he went into this trial looking to suspect Nico ("[...] I'm pretty sure I know who the murderer is. It's not David, it's Nico"), so if Ace is the killer, it would make sense if he'd want to make the crime scene resemble Nico's to make his bait more credible.

Hey, it's the aforementioned T A P E T I M E, motherfuckers :D (still /j) Personally, it's quite gratifying to hear that it wasn't just a visual malfunction or a minor detail blown way out of proportion.

You're, uh... getting to this point much faster than I expected, queen. I don't think she's now going to go down the exact same distrustful rabbit hole that she was in before, but there's definitely still potential for her hopes to be crushed by the end of this chapter. Or, maybe she will accept some people as genuine friends, and instead in the future have to confront how she feels when she loses a genuine friend, or not blaming herself for the effects of her luck, or something along those lines. I like that Teruko isn't a static edgy protagonist, though. Like, don't get me wrong, I've always known and appreciated that she has depth, but it's refreshing that she isn't someone who's so stubborn about her own way of thinking that she refuses to admit when she's in the wrong. Teruko really wants friends, guys.

TERUROSE REAL??????

(Also Rose's speech was excellent as well I just didn't have anything in particular to say about it other than "wow" at the moment)

Yahoo, lockdown logic strikes again! Also, a quick

Is Teruko Correct In This Assumption?

Personally, I fully think yes, only Ace or Eden could be the culprit at this point. MonoTV confirmed that it tried to restore the Gym to the best of its ability but couldn't return the tape, which means both that there was no tape in the Gym to be taken and that there was never any spare tape in the Storage Room that MonoTV could have used to replace the roll. I guess you could say that there was an extra roll of tape in the Storage Room that someone else took before the murder took place, but that level of coincidence seems implausible at this point in the Trial.

No, for anyone other than Eden or Ace to have acquired the tape, they must have either stolen it from one of those two or asked for it from one of those two. Asking them seems very unlikely-- for starters, if it was Ace who took the tape, I don't think he'd be giving free hand-outs to anyone. And, if Eden isn't the killer herself, that means all of her fright regarding stumbling upon Ace's body was genuine. I don't think she's naive enough to then hand over what was used in Ace's murder to anyone asking... or at least not without bringing it up now. Beyond that, anyone who would ask either of them for the tape would have to know that the tape was used in the murder attempt, knowledge of which was very limited. This episode went to lengths to establish that Nico was the sole culprit behind the attack on Ace, and while it's still possible it could all be an elaborate lie, the explanation Nico gave felt very in character and important for their characterization moving forwards. So, while Nico would obviously know it was used, if Nico asked either of them for the tape, surely neither Eden nor Ace would trust them. Otherwise, I think Rose is the only one who could have found out it was gone, but even so, given that neither Eden nor Ace have tried to argue that Rose asked them for the tape, I don't think that happened.

You could also say the same of neither Eden nor Ace claiming to have had the tape stolen from them-- but I could see either of them feeling like claiming to have taken the tape at all right now would be a death sentence, so I understand why they wouldn't say it. Still, I don't know if the narrative is there to support the tape having been stolen from them. On the day after the Gym murder (Day 7), Eden isn't seen in the daily life at all. If someone stole the tape from Eden on that day, I would think that DRDTdev would at least want to show us who Eden was spending time with on that day (given that he put in the effort to make the tape sprite disappear from the Gym at the time it did), so that we would have any idea who might have done so. Ace is seen once in the Day 7 daily life, arguing with Hu, Nico, Levi, Veronika, and Arei. However, having just been attacked, I imagine he'd be hyper-aware of anyone getting close to him, and therefore would be more likely to notice if someone was rifling around in his pockets (if he has pockets?).

Really, I think the only possible candidates for who could have stolen tape from Ace or Eden would be Levi (mostly just for Ace) and Arei (from either of them). Levi might have had an opportunity to take the tape from Ace on the night he was attacked, the night of Day 6. Eden said last episode that Levi "kept trying to help him" after Ace was attacked, which could imply that Levi was the one to put bandages around Ace's neck. Furthermore, he does have a criminal past, which could make him better at stealing. Similarly, Arei is confirmed to be a good pickpocket, stealing Min's pen without Min noticing at all. I think she's the only one with the proper buildup to have taken the tape from Ace at that breakfast, and would be the most likely to have spent time with Eden when Eden was off-screen. (Although, it would have to have been before lunch, because Eden says the last time she saw Arei was at lunch.)

However, I don't think many people think that Levi is the killer anymore, and if Arei stole the tape from Eden or Ace only for the killer to then steal the tape from Arei, I would start to wonder why DRDTdev even made the tape such a scarce resource in the first place. Remember that, if the killer was purposefully trying to recreate Nico's idea, they likely knew in advance that they would need the tape to pull off their plan. It was used in enough places that seizing the opportunity to take it off of Arei seems unlikely, as it was too fundamental to the plan's inception. Besides, for the killer to replicate Nico's plan in the first place, the killer likely needs to be Nico, Eden, Ace, or Teruko, who are the ones who could have most easily taken the tape on their own.

I've already seen people accuse this Trial of being bloated, and while I strongly disagree (I only think cases are bloated when they're stalling for time and have nothing of interest to discuss, and we've still had PLENTY of interesting stuff to discuss), if we spent a whole 'nother who-knows-how-many episodes reversing all of the progress we just made to say that either Nico wasn't actually the one to kill Ace or that someone who didn't see the crime scene killed Arei, that bloating problem would only seem worse to those people.

I understand if you don't want to believe that Eden or Ace has to be the culprit for whatever reasons-- whether that be that they're your favorites and you don't want them to die or you really like your theory and don't want it to be false-- but I really think that this episode cemented that either Ace or Eden will be voted for as the blackened for all of the reasons above. Therefore, I shall be proceeding accordingly.

She was WILD for this. Hilarious line of reasoning.

What's Up With the Body Discovery Announcement?

The "reveal" of this line of logic was no surprise to me. As someone who's believed that Eden is the culprit for quite a long time, we've had to figure out ways to get around this thing before, and besides perhaps "not witnessing the murder," someone else seeing the body before the BDA rang is the most obvious way to cheese it.

However, in order for this to be a thing, we have to ask ourselves-- who would have actually seen the body first?

David claims to, but he has an alibi starting at 7:30 AM with Veronika and J. Both because Arei theoretically wasn't dead before then and because we've been operating off of the assumption that a meal takes about 30 minutes to eat, I don't think any of the three of them could have stumbled across Arei in the morning. Nico and Hu both have an alibi, which I'm going to consider solid enough to remove them from possibility-- one of them spotting the body would be helpful to make Eden the killer, and I think the only people who believe that Hu and Nico are lying only believe so under the condition that one of them is the killer. Whit is out, because him seeing the body beforehand doesn't actually accomplish anything, and so is Charles, because we can assume that, if he saw the body, he would be out of commission. I'm also going to strike Rose from seeing the body before breakfast, both because she's very likely to have been asleep and because if she had already seen Arei's body in the Playground, she probably wouldn't have refused to draw a diagram. That would leave only Ace, Levi, and Arturo as non-blackeneds who could have helped facilitate culprit!Eden from not being caught by the BDA.

However, we also have to consider that "before 8 AM" isn't the only time someone could have stumbled across Arei's body. They also could have seen it before Teruko, Eden, and Whit did while everyone was looking for Arei. So, what do we know about what happened during the search for Arei? Not much. Hu says that they should split up, while J says she's going to check Arei's room. Teruko says that most people are probably searching the first floor, an assumption that's supported by Teruko, Eden, and Whit not seeing anyone else while they check the second floor. You might think that would eliminate the possibility of anyone else seeing Arei's body during the search, but Teruko did say most people, not all. There's also what MonoTV said when Teruko and Veronika were investigating the Gym.

MonoTV: It's too high! If you stood in the movie screening room on floor one and started punching through the walls, you'd fall into the playground.

This not-yet-addressed piece of evidence got me thinking about the possibility of someone seeing Arei's body from above, standing in the Motive Screening Room. It still probably couldn't be Teruko, Whit, Charles, Rose, or J, but anyone else would theoretically be back on the table if that were the case. That being said, I can't find any visual differences in how the Motive Screening Room looks between the beginning of Chapter 2, when the search for Arei begins, and when Teruko goes to check the motive secrets (other than a curtain being added over the screen in the third case). So, unless there was already a heretofore unmentioned hole to peek through in the room, I wouldn't count on that being the case. The connection between the Motive Screening Room and the Playground will probably just be relevant to a different chapter.

Therefore, that leaves us once again with Ace, Levi, and Arturo. The main problem with believing that any of them could have seen the body beforehand is why they wouldn't have brought that up at this point in the Trial. Here are my best guesses as to why:

Ace: I have genuinely no clue why Ace wouldn't have brought up that he saw the body in the morning (assuming that he actually did) to defend himself at this point. It's not like it would make anyone more suspicious of you.

Levi: Levi does seem to be a bit dense regarding what is and isn't helpful behavior in a Trial, so the most likely possibility to me is that he just didn't realize that confirming he saw her was helpful. Like, "oh, I didn't realize that me confirming that I saw Arei would help us pin down Eden as the killer. I was just trying to figure out how David and I both saw Arei's body this morning and I didn't see him." "Wh-- David was obviously lying!" "He was?" "I already told you he was lying before..." "Levi... we talked about this..." Bonus points for it not being out of character for Levi to be unfazed by seeing a body, though.

Arturo: In Arturo's case, I think it would have to be that he'd still be worried about people seeing him as suspicious for saying he found Arei's body in the case of accusing Eden specifically. They already have a past history of conflict, and I could see someone brashly accusing Arturo of throwing Eden under the bus just to get revenge on her for the secret thing (even if I don't think he would actually do that). He also made an enemy out of Arei, so I don't think he would be particularly fazed by seeing her corpse either-- similarities to Felicity's cause of death notwithstanding. However, I also find it likely that he trailed after J in going to check Arei's room.

So, what's our conclusion here? Does this mean that Eden is basically fully cleared by triggering the BDA? I wouldn't count her out just yet, but the evidence isn't looking great for her. It's quite possible David only brought up this argument to A) hold out suspension of disbelief that it's not just Ace for a little while longer, B) drop this logic as foreshadowing for a future killer's plan, C) characterize the kind of logic he uses in a Class Trial, or D) bring up this argument in canon so that the people who theorized that the BDA might not clear Eden or Whit wouldn't be like, "wait, but what about...?" However, it's also possible that one of the possibilities I listed above, something I might have missed, or the "see no evil" idea (as FF put it) could keep Eden in contention. That dynamism is part of what makes Ace and Eden feel so evenly matched.

See, this is what I assumed David was getting at after Nico reminded me of his early-morning alibi. But then he just kept talking...

I'm not going to delve into what David was thinking here too much, because I already have an anonymous ask about what I think David's rationale was that this will almost certainly come up in. However, as a short version, I imagine that David is trying to get everyone angry at each other in the hopes that it'll incite another murder that he can get the class to fail? Or to cause enough discord in the group that they just fail this one. That would be why he also rags on Rose for not remembering the tape, and insults Arturo's sister-- he wants no one to trust anyone so that the murder-solving process will be as un-streamlined as possible.

The fact that he targets Teruko so specifically is probably because he (accurately) assesses her as the only real threat there. Charles and Rose can help, sure, but their mental struggles make them easy enough to eliminate if you play your cards right. Teruko's main flaw is her lack of trust, so if David wants to weaken her, it makes sense to go right for that jugular. Furthermore, by stating his plans so plainly and publicly, it might incite other people to fight back against him and say that Teruko should trust them. However, that kind of olive branch might make Teruko even less inclined to get close to them, if what Teruko said to Eden at the end of ch2-e03 can tell us anything. Didn't stop Eden from trying at the end of this last episode, though!

After taking some more time to think about what David was up to this chapter, I might change my mind on those being his goals. But, this post does serve as my initial thoughts of sorts, and that's what I initially think about this scene.

I wholeheartedly agree.

Does Ace Have Nothing To Do With Arei?

What Ace has to say is more or less true-- barring the breakfast in which Arei didn't talk at all (AKA, no conversation), Ace has literally never been in a small group event with Arei. However, although they didn't talk to each other, Ace did overhear the conversation between David and Arei, which does give him a connection to Arei. Quite relevantly, Arei did say this to David during their conversation:

Arei: You said that sharing our secrets would help fight against the motive. But when I think about it, not a single good thing has come out of that. Eden was stupidly naive, as usual, and tried to talk to Arturo, so now I have to protect her.

From this, Ace could probably surmise that Eden had Arturo's secret, she talked to him about it, and that Arei stepped in to save her from Arturo. He was one of the few people who could have known that Eden and Arei grew closer before the murder occurred: another connection Ace had to information about Arei.

However, before you use that evidence to call Ace the killer, let me remind you that he still doesn't have enough information to write the note from just eavesdropping on this conversation alone. As I outlined in this theory (same as the one I just linked above), whoever wrote the note had to specifically know that Arturo's secret was about his sister, which Arei doesn't divulge (quite possibly because she didn't even know) to David. Therefore, although Arei mentioning Arturo and Eden in this conversation is interesting, it doesn't actually make Ace any more likely to be the killer, because he still would have needed to find some way to spy on Eden's secret and/or Arturo and Eden's conversation to write that note. (Unless mentioning the sister specifically was an oversight plot hole, but I never want to use that as my reasoning.)

So, do I get what Arturo is getting at? Yeah, Ace and Arei were never particularly involved, and Eden clearly has a greater connection to the victim. However, there is more to the Ace/Arei bond than it might first appear, and it's possible that could come up in the Trial moving forward.

This distinction-- between "Arei was my friend" and "Arei could have been my friend"-- could be very telling down the line. Eden pauses mid-tear-filled rant to distinguish that Arei is not her friend, not because she's dead, but because they hadn't reached that point yet. Arei is not Eden's friend in death. What can that possibly mean other than that Eden killed Arei?

... BUT THEN HOW THE FUCK CAN EDEN GO AND SAY ALL OF THIS, BE THE KILLER, AND THEREFORE PROVE DAVID RIGHT???

AND THE "BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT FRIENDS DO" REFERENCE??? AT THIS HOUR????? I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF THAT MAKES HER SEEM MORE OR LESS SUSPICIOUS!!!!

OUGH AND THE MIN PARALLELS TOOOOOOO

MIN WAS TERUKO'S FRIEND BUT ALSO A KILLER. DOES THAT MEAN EDEN IS GOING TO BREAK THE CYCLE OR DOES IT MEAN THAT WE'RE STUCK IN A DOOMED STORY IN WHICH TERUKO IS THE PROTAGONIST? IT COULD GO EITHER WAY!!!

Jumping back in time for just a moment...

A Piece of Evidence That Lines Up to Them Only

I thought about making this its own separate post, but decided not to. If you guys want me to make this part it's own separate post so it's easier to find/comment on directly, let me know, and I'll set that up.

But before you can make your decision, I suppose I have to explain what I aim to do here. Basically, Teruko has told us that she's still torn between Eden and Ace (mood), and that, while she'll start off attacking Ace, she's looking for any pieces of evidence that could prove that only one of them could have committed the crime. Problem is, we have no indication of what that specific piece of evidence could be, and, trust me, it could be a lot of them. Thus, what I'm going to do in this "mini" theory is list out every piece of evidence that I can think of, and say whether it points to Eden being the culprit, Ace being the culprit, or it can't point to either of them. Perhaps once we're done, you'll see why I'm so conflicted on which of them it would be.

I'm going to tier these pieces of evidence in terms of least likely to be the missing piece to most likely to be the missing piece, starting with all of the aforementioned unexplained gym evidence. The knocked over benches and weight rack were not part of the replicated crime scene, and I have no idea how Ace or Eden would have wound up with any version of Nico's cowl. The missing tape on the pull-up bar has the greatest likelihood to be relevant, but as we're already suspecting both of them for having the tape, I don't think it'd be a decision maker. Any of those pieces of evidence would be likely to come up in proving that Nico wasn't the one behind Ace's murder, but this theory is operating under the assumption that Nico is the one who tried to kill Ace, and either Ace or Eden killed Arei. If you want the answers for your own theory, do your own homework. (/lh)

Ace or Eden will get a point for any evidence that I think would better be used to accuse them as being the culprit. Therefore, winning points is actually a bad thing if you want to be innocent. For convenience of "scoring," Eden will be purple because of her shirt and Ace will be pink because of his "maroon" hair... and because I needed red and orange for the likelihood ranking.

UNLIKELY FINAL PIECES OF EVIDENCE

Arei's Body Swinging: This evidence has already been used to establish that Arei was killed in the morning, not at night. Either Ace or Eden could have killed Arei at 7:30 AM, so point to neither of them.

Ace Trying to Assign Himself to Guard Duty: This one is obviously a point for Ace if it were the final piece, but it's such a minor happenstance that I doubt Teruko would think to bring it up as the main thing against him. Like, she could bring it up in general, but I don't think it'd be her crowning jewel. Still, it's a piece of evidence we haven't discussed yet, so credit where credit is due.

Arei's Bound Wrists: Bound by the grippy tape that either of them could have stolen. Point to no one.

Broken Playground Lights: The lights in the Playground are broken, likely from the mechanism being hung up through the ceiling rafters. You could argue that this is a point for Ace's strength, but I don't think throwing a ball that high requires so much strength that Eden couldn't do it, especially if you might be able to use the see-saw to launch it somehow. Point to no one.

Dried Up Puddles: This has nothing to do with either of them. Point to no one.

Carousel Wrapped in Tape: Again, either could have had the tape, so point to no one.

Two Pieces of Rope: Either of them could have taken the rope from Storage and cut it; point to no one.

Food/Utensils/Napkins in Trash: Probably David's dinner. Possibly evidence of Eden and Arei having breakfast together, but that's a stretch. Point to no one.

Cups/Tissues/Palette in Trash: Rose says these were hers. Point to no one.

Incense in Trash: I know thebadjoe had (has?) theories about this being used to conceal the scent of Arei's body being hidden in the Relaxation Room a day earlier than anyone thought, but I find that to be too much of a stretch to accost Eden for it here. I think it's just filler. Point to no one.

Grippy Tape in Trash: I should just stop writing out tape evidence. Point to no one.

Broken Jugs: The killer used jugs of water to make Arei heavier, which broke when she fell. They probably had the fish water in them, but we're not talking about the fish themselves at the moment. I'll say point for Ace because the jugs are probably from the Gym, and we've seen Ace in the Gym far more times than we've seen Eden.

Needle and Black Thread: This evidence... might have to do with the ball of clothes, which we'll get to later. However, if this is relevant to the murder, it's probably from the Dress-Up Room, in which we've seen Eden but never Ace. Point to Eden.

Construction of the Note: After a bit of internal debate, I'm going to call this a point for no one. Why? Well, it's because Eden would have reason to help construct the note whether she was the killer or not. If she is the killer, she might have wanted to guide the discussion that followed its reconstruction, to urge to Rose and Whit that she's innocent and that someone must have framed her. It would also give her reason to come into the Trial already having a handwriting sample on her. However, if Eden is innocent, she also easily could have just wanted to help out. Most importantly, Eden already brought up the note being constructed in her initial defense, so I doubt Teruko would reuse it as the nail in someone's coffin.

Splashing Arei With Water: Either of them could have thought of this and accomplished this. Point to no one.

SOMEWHAT LIKELY FINAL PIECES OF EVIDENCE

Body Discovery Announcement: While this may very well play an important part in solving the case, I don't think it'll be the final smash, so to speak. That's mostly because we already talked about it a lot in determining whether Eden could have done it. In the end, I think we'll either have to come up with a way to justify Eden having cheated the BDA-- by Levi or Arturo having seen it or via see no evil-- or we'll accuse Ace without the BDA being a problem. I guess I have to call this a point for Eden because if the BDA were to be the damning evidence, I think it'd have to be for her. However, in my heart, this is totally evidence supporting Ace being the killer.

Arei's Broken Neck: I'm using this as a stand-in for the strength of the killer, in the sense of lifting Arei up and being able to stop the carousel. This is a point for Ace, because he's a professional athlete and Eden is generally the weakest person in the cast.

Scratches on the Ground: This evidence certainly seems to indicate that there was a struggle at the Playground, but is there anything more to it than that? I'm more willing to believe that Ace could have beaten Arei in a fight, but does that point to Eden because there would've been more of a struggle, or Ace because Eden wouldn't have wanted to fight Arei at all? Ace also normally wears heels (while Eden and Arei don't), which is what Hu cites will naturally scratch up the floor. This evidence is vague enough that I don't think it'll be used to point to either of them, but if it did, I think it's more likely to be Ace.

Ball of Starched Clothes: For starters, I'll share (I think it's) thebadjoe's theory that the ball was adhered together using starch from the Relaxation Room that's sprayed on the plants at night, because I saw some people questioning how the clothes could have been stuck together. Anyways, the ball of clothes itself is definitely a point for Eden, because we saw her in the Dress-Up Room specifically looking for Teruko's clothes. Although, Ace certainly saw Teruko and Hu's new fits, so he could have figured it out for himself.

Actual Acquisition of the Tape: I don't think this will be used as the final piece just because I feel like the narrative is pointing towards the damning evidence relating to Arei's actual murder as opposed to Nico's. However, it's relevant to discuss, so I'll list it here. Although Teruko says that Ace and Eden had equal odds at the tape, on the surface, it really makes much more sense if Eden was the one to take it. Star explained it well here, but I'll add my own recap: in the moments when the tape must have been taken, in between when Nico leaves and when MonoTV kicks everyone out, Ace is recovering from unconsciousness, covered in blood, full of rage, and has all eyes on him. Meanwhile, Eden is scared, sure, but she had a clear moment to actually examine the scene of the crime and is also knocked to the ground-- potentially right next to the tape-- with all her wits about her. While it's not impossible to believe that Ace sleight-of-handed the tape, Eden had a much clearer path to taking it. Point to Eden.

MOST LIKELY FINAL PIECES OF EVIDENCE

Arei's Missing Glove: To my memory, Arei's glove hasn't been brought up in the Trial at all, which is definitely strange, because it must be missing for a reason. If DRDTdev is crafting so much detail into the BDA that the swinging of the body is plot-relevant, there's no way he would have just missed giving Arei her glove. The question is, what was this used for? Those who are familiar with my theories should know that I've never been a fan of dress-up theories, so I'm going to discount that possibility. The thing I thought was the most likely was that the killer donned the glove so that their hands wouldn't get super scratched up from grabbing the grippy tape-d carousel bars, before gleamingtempest reminded everyone that both Eden and Ace already wear gloves. Still, looking at them, Eden's gloves are probably made of something more like cotton while Ace's gloves likely have some sort of tougher grip on the inside. So, Eden would probably be more likely to need something else to protect her hands. Also, given that both of Arei's wrists have marks on them, the glove was likely taken off before her wrists were tied. I can't figure out why Ace would have taken off Arei's glove before restraining her or how he would have gotten Arei to take it off otherwise, while for Eden, at least, I can imagine her asking Arei to take off her glove. Therefore, I'm going to call this one a point for Eden, while also throwing out that it might just be missing if Arei didn't bother putting on her glove for the early morning meetup.

Fish on the Playground: You've heard it from me before, Eden has an alibi through the entire time the fish could have been taken. With seemingly no accomplices (other than possibly Arei) in sight, I don't know how Eden would have gotten her hands on those fish. Meanwhile, Ace had a great opportunity. Point for Ace.

Pieced-Together Note: This evidence is very confusing, because I don't see how/why either of them would have implemented it. For Ace, I wrote that entire theory (I'm not going to link it a third time) about how, based on the information in the note and the layout of the first floor, it really seemed like eavesdropping was impossible, and the person who wrote the note had to be Arturo or Eden. Then there's what thefandomenchantress pointed out about Ace's pedantry making it seem like he wouldn't misspell "responsible" in the note, and that he just doesn't give me the vibes of someone who writes in cursive. By all accounts, it really seems like Ace can't have written that note. But then again, why would Eden have written that note? Okay, bad phrasing; she wrote it to get Arei to come to the Playground. But still, why would she sign it? Or if she were to sign it, to make sure that Arei knew it was her, why include so much detail about what Arturo's secret was? More importantly, why wouldn't Eden have just stuffed the ripped up note into her belt, or her pockets, or her room if it would serve to incriminate her? Put it wherever she put that glove! Hell, why not eat the note, if it's a life or death situation? There's the "reverse psychology" argument, but similar to what Teruko said this episode, it would have been much simpler for Eden to have pretended that Arei came to the Playground for some other reason without the killer planting some sort of note meant to frame her. And it's not like I think Eden is really the type to misspell "responsible" either. So, I'm kind of at a loss. It's such a major piece of evidence that I feel it has to come into play again somehow, but I'm not sure how. I think I'm going to call this one a point for Ace because at the very least I understand why he would want to leave this evidence here, even if I don't know how he created it. For Eden, I don't get why she'd leave it lying around, even if in pieces. You can call it revenge for Eden getting the point on the BDA, if you wish.

So, what are the results? If you add up all the points together, you wind up with 6 points for Ace and 6 points for Eden. Funny. If you tier the points, however, with 1 point for unlikely pieces, 2 points for somewhat likely pieces, and 3 points for the most likely pieces, you get 12 points for Ace and 10 points for Eden. Of course, that's using my tierlist of which pieces of evidence are most likely and on top of that, assigning the BDA and the Note the way that they are (if you flip them it's 11-11), but still. If you're invested in my findings, these are the results.

Needless to say, I hope you can understand why I'm having such a hard time determining which one of them will turn out to be the killer. Although, I must add...

If we're suspecting Ace first before we've done our Debate Scrum, that's not a good look for Eden never being suspected again in this Trial.

Concluding Thoughts

What? A conclusion? I've never done one of these on a dissection before?!!

Yeah, well, this time, I have stuff to say that I couldn't really correlate to one image in particular! And also I ran out of images, so this is what you get!!!

I spent that whole "A Piece of Evidence" section talking about the physical evidence that could support Ace or Eden being Arei's killer, but in it, I really didn't get to talk about the narrative implications of either of them being the killer at all. I know that Narrative Defenses are typically Venus' thing, but I have my thoughts on this, too. Namely, that both of them are riddled with narrative problems for being the killer at this point.

(Note: I don't mean "problems" in the sense that DRDTdev has written anything poorly. What I mean is, my own perception of how the characters are conveyed has me currently raising red flags about how either of their stories will pan out as a killer or how the rest of the story will pan out without them. At the time the answer comes, I have full faith that I'll be satisfied with the results.)

Let's start by looking at Eden, the spotlight character of the end of this episode. After that whole heartfelt speech with the CGs and the tears and the brilliant voice acting and the everything, how could Eden possibly be the killer?! I'm the one who was trying to defend the possibility of her still being the culprit after her little rant last week, and while I could probably do that again with this speech, it just felt so... I dunno, sincere. You can really feel Teruko's reluctance to put her faith in Eden, but her choice to do it anyways. Teruko already showed signs of growth this episode by admitting that she can't always solve mysteries by herself, so could that be a sign that she might come around on the group faster than we initially anticipated? If Eden was the killer, it would crush Teruko so hard. Is there any recovering from that? Can we really prove David right?

On the other hand, Ace is, quite possibly, one of the most intertwined members of the cast. He's probably Levi and Nico's #1 correspondent, and he's up there for Hu as well-- assuming they both survive the chapter, I'm sure their animosity towards each other will only grow in Chapter 3. With Ace just having given up on Levi, having just been the target of Nico's battery and Hu's verbal lashes, can the story really work without him in it at this point? Eden hardly has connections with anyone other than Teruko-- Hu's probably next, but Eden probably ranks, like, fourth on her list after Nico, Ace, and David-- which should make her more expendable. Is it really Ace's time already?

However, despite my complaints, I also think that both of them could be really good options as the killer here-- the two options I prefer over anybody else.

Eden is the character who's most connected with Arei. She plays into the chapter themes of being a good person beautifully. She's a good person, a tragic figure, that killed not because she wanted anybody dead, but presumably because she had something back at home that she had to get back to at all costs. Killing her off would break Teruko-- would break everyone. With the reveal of everyone's secrets, next chapter is going to be a living hell, so why not make that hell worse by removing the biggest conflict de-escalator here? It would force other people to step up to bat. It would give everyone a chance to change, what Eden wanted for Arei most of all. Eden's development isn't an arc, per say, but a fall-- a reminder that even the "most good" people can do the unspeakable.

Meanwhile, Ace has perhaps the most obvious reason to kill someone: he literally almost fucking died himself. Ace's execution would be a reminder of the physical reality of the killing game. That actions have consequences. Even if the guy who started all those fights is dead and gone, you can still feel his presence lingering in the arguments between the others. The guy you underestimated most of all-- not for being kind, but for being dumb-- can send you into a multi-hour spiral in which you accuse even the sweetest of participants. Ace's development isn't an arc, per say, but a fall-- a reminder that reveling in your own distrust and anger might lead you to do the unspeakable.

For someone who's spent so long believing that Eden is the culprit of the chapter, it's really amazing how down-to-the-wire DRDTdev has made the end of the case, where either option feels so believable that it's like you can picture the rope in their hands. Whether my theories, old or new, were right or wrong, I am highly looking forward to watching next week's episode and discussing it with you all. See you on Friday-- just try not to freak out too much before then, alright? (/aff)

[seongwars]

forget me not | iv

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x witch!Reader AU: non-idol | supernatural Summary: Yunho should be happy--he's got everything going for him and he's set to marry the love of his life! So why is he standing outside of your shop on the night of his engagement party? Word Count: 7.5K (my bad) Warnings: infidelity, use of the k word

Fic Masterlist

a/n: my stitches reopened and I had to go back and get restitched 😬 so I spent all day in bed editing this chapter. i love reading everyone's theories and feedback is always welcome!

The first time Haewon saw Yunho, it was at your dorm during a study session. You were both surrounded by books, notes, and various pieces of stationary scattered across the floor. While you were focusing on writing out your note cards, Haewon was dancing around the room in an attempt to “activate her brain cells”. 

She had been caught up in her own world until the sound of a knock interrupted her antics. You stood up to answer the door, and a low voice followed, mingled with a chuckle—deep, familiar, and warm.

Yunho.

He was your best friend, someone she’d heard about but hadn’t paid much attention to. But that day, something was different. He sat with a pile of books and a look of quiet concentration that intrigued her. His presence was magnetic, though subtle, and without realizing it, Haewon found herself sneaking glances at him, captivated by the calm determination in his demeanor.

She wasn’t sure when it happened exactly, but at some point, between stolen glances and shared laughter over late-night group study sessions, she started to fall for him. Yunho was kind, always the first to offer a helping hand, and his dedication to his friends and family was unwavering. He had a way of making everyone feel valued and heard.

And when he asked her to be his girlfriend, she was over the moon. 

"Did you know Yunho was going to ask me out?" she beamed, her voice laced with an excitement that made your heart sink.

You froze for a second, your pencil hovering above the page. There was a flicker of something—disappointment, maybe even hurt—but you quickly swallowed it down. 

"Maybe," you muttered, your voice light, almost teasing, though it took everything in you to keep it that way. Haewon didn’t see the way your grip tightened on the pencil, or how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.

"I can’t believe it," she gushed, oblivious to the turmoil behind your composed expression. "I mean, I’ve liked him for a while now, and I wasn’t sure if he felt the same way, but when he asked me…God, it was perfect."

"That’s great, Haewon" you said, your voice quieter than before, trying desperately to sound convincing. 

You fell in love with the way Yunho truly saw you, even when you tried to hide parts of yourself. He understood you in ways no one else ever had, knowing your fears, your dreams, and all the things that made you tick. Somewhere along the line, you stopped worrying about what he would think of you because with Yunho, you never had to pretend.

That’s when you knew you loved him—because the idea of life without him didn’t feel like life at all.

But how could you tell him? You weren’t like Haewon—bold and unafraid, able to voice her feelings as if vulnerability wasn’t terrifying. She was all confidence and ease, speaking her mind without a second thought, while you were cautious, overthinking, content to blend into the background.

Telling Yunho how you felt would mean stepping into the unknown. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him if things went wrong. So you stayed silent, burying your feelings deep, hoping that somehow, you could protect what you had by keeping your secret. 

But things went wrong anyway.

You tried not to not let their relationship affect you, told yourself you were happy for them. Haewon and Yunho were two of the most important people in your life, and they deserved happiness. You repeated that to yourself like a mantra, hoping that if you said it enough, you might actually believe it. 

It hurt seeing them together, knowing that while you were happy for them, you couldn’t help the ache in your chest every time Yunho laughed a little too easily at something she said, or when she rested her head on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The worst part was that you couldn’t even be angry. How could you? Haewon hadn’t done anything wrong; she hadn’t stolen Yunho from you, and Yunho hadn’t abandoned you. It was like watching sand slip through your fingers—nothing to hold on to, nothing you could do to stop it.

Yunho was happy, and you cared about him enough to want that for him, even if it wasn’t with you.

After you disappeared, everything fell apart in ways neither of them expected. Yunho and Haewon participated in search parties, posted on social media about your disappearance, and cooperated with law enforcement. But there were no answers, no trace of where you’d gone or why. The emptiness you left behind was palpable, a gaping hole in both their lives.

At first, Haewon believed they were grieving together. She felt the weight of your absence in every corner of her life, and Yunho, in his quiet way, did too. But then, she began to notice the way their relationship shifted. 

It was subtle at first: a slight distance in Yunho’s eyes, the way he seemed preoccupied even when they were alone. He would zone out in the middle of conversations, and even when he held Haewon in his arms, his heart wasn’t fully there. 

Slowly, painfully, she realized the truth. Yunho wasn’t just mourning you—he was waiting for you. He was still tethered to you, pulled by an invisible force that Haewon couldn’t compete with.

She never considered herself a mean girl. Sure, she had grown up in a comfortable world, surrounded by friends who were a little more tightly wounded and concerned with appearances. But now, standing on the other side of it, Haewon could see the truth for what it was. Yunho was never really hers to begin with. She hadn’t stolen him—not intentionally—but she had taken something that was never really hers to claim. 

Then there was Sungjae. 

Sungjae had never been a close friend, not really. He was more of a background figure—someone on the outskirts of Haewon’s social circle who, little by little, had weaseled his way in. He was everything Yunho wasn’t: impulsive, flirtatious, unpredictable. And it was those very qualities that ignited something in her.

The affair began quietly, like a secret Haewon wasn’t ready to admit even to herself. It started innocently enough—casual conversations, coffee outings after shared classes. They’d stay up late in the library, long after everyone else had left, talking about things that felt too personal, too vulnerable to share with anyone else. Haewon convinced herself it was nothing more than a close friendship—after all, she had a large circle of friends. What harm could one more friend do?

As time passed, the line between friendship and something more blurred. In the quiet moments following your disappearance, Haewon found herself relying on Sungjae in ways she hadn’t with Yunho in years. He became her anchor when the world felt uncertain, someone who made her feel alive and seen.

At first, it was easy to justify: she and Yunho had been drifting apart. Haewon had noticed it in the way their conversations had become shorter, less meaningful; the way they sat together in silence more often than not, the air between them filled with unspoken tension. 

But there was also something darker about Sungjae—something tied to the past Haewon desperately tried to forget. The night you disappeared, Sungjae had humiliated you, his cruel words cutting through the air as everyone watched in uncomfortable silence. And Haewon had stood by, doing nothing. She had stayed silent, too afraid to confront him, too indifferent to speak up.

Yunho had done nothing, either. His usual kind, gentle demeanor had turned into passive inaction, making excuses whenever Haewon brought up the topic like "It's just a phase" or "They’ll work it out."

“Do you think Sungjae had something to do with Y/N’s disappearance?” Haewon suddenly blurted out as the two were cooking dinner. 

Yunho froze, his jaw tightening. He knew the answer—he had always known. The last time anyone had seen you was when you stormed out of the apartment, cheeks flushed with shame and frustration. And yet, Yunho couldn’t admit it out loud. Admitting that Sungjae was responsible meant confronting his own failure, his own role in pushing you away.

“If he did,” Yunho said, his voice low, a dangerous edge creeping in, “I’ll kill him myself.”

“But you were the last one who saw her.”

His entire body tensed, the weight of Haewon’s accusation hitting him harder than he expected. He turned to face her fully, eyes dark and cold.

“You think I had something to do with Y/N’s disappearance?” His voice was low, hurt and anger threading through each word. He could feel the bile rising in his chest, burning with the injustice of her suspicion.

“That’s not what I said—”

“But it’s what you meant.” Yunho cut her off. “You think I’m the reason she’s gone?”

“I’m just trying to figure out what happened,” she murmured, her voice softer now, though the accusation still lingered between them. 

“All I did was walk her out, and the CCTV proved that! You have no idea how much Y/N’s disappearance is affecting me! But to even suggest that I could’ve done something…” His voice trailed off, swallowed by a surge of emotion.

“I can’t do this,” Yunho muttered, his voice barely audible now as he turned away from her. Grabbing his jacket off the chair, he headed for the door, his movements tense and deliberate. “I’m done with this conversation.”

His footsteps faltered just before reaching the door, the frustration inside him boiling over. He spun back to face Haewon, his voice sharp and biting.

“Every time it comes to Sungjae, you choose him. Why?”

“I–” Haewon’s voice cracked, but Yunho didn’t stop. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving a deafening silence in his wake.

Haewon knew it wasn’t fair to keep dragging him along when her heart was no longer fully his. But the thought of actually leaving—the finality of it—terrified her. The knowledge that once she walked away, there would be no going back was something she wasn’t sure she could handle.

And then Yunho proposed. 

It caught her completely off guard—a moment she hadn’t prepared for despite all her doubts and uncertainty. She hadn’t expected him to propose, not now. But instead of facing the truth, instead of admitting that her heart had drifted away and she was entangled in an affair with someone else, Haewon did the only thing she could think of: she convinced herself that accepting Yunho’s proposal would fix everything.

Haewon felt trapped. She felt the walls closing in, suffocating her as she tried to play the part of the happy fiancée. On the night of the engagement party, everyone around them was celebrating, toasting to their future, but all she could think about was how wrong it all felt. Her heart wasn’t in it—not fully—and she knew it.

The alcohol didn’t help. Glass after glass, Haewon drank to drown out the noise in her head, to silence the guilt and doubt. She wanted to forget, to numb herself to everything, but instead, it only made her feel more exposed.

She avoided Yunho most of the night, choosing instead to party with her friends, laughing too loudly, her smile brittle around the edges. Yunho tried to get her to slow down, to pull her back to him, to hold her close, but every time he did, it felt like the air was being sucked out of her lungs. It wasn’t his fault, but being near him only made the weight of her choices heavier.

Finally, something inside her snapped. Right there, in front of everyone. The frustration, the guilt, the suffocating pressure of pretending—it all came to the surface. She knew it was unfair, that Yunho didn’t deserve it, but she couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. 

Now, as she laid in bed next to Sungjae, the weight of her betrayal closed in on her. The wedding was fast approaching, a date circled on the calendar like a death sentence, and there was no backing out now. The dress had been chosen, the invitations sent. Everyone was expecting a celebration, but all Haewon could feel was dread. 

Yunho had betrayed you too, hadn’t he? He had stood on the sidelines, just as complicit, watching as Sungjae’s cruelty unraveled you. And yet, he had stayed—stayed with her, proposed to her, tried to build a future with her. It was laughable. 

The two of them, pretending like they could escape what they’d done, like they could forge something real out of ashes. But the truth had always been there, lurking beneath the surface. 

They were no better than the man lying next to her now.

Perhaps this was what she and Yunho both deserved—two people who had betrayed you, condemned to a life of misery together.

Life in the Emporium was nothing short of magical surprises.

Each day began with a quiet ritual, a moment of calm before the shop's unique energy fully awoke. The first thing you’d do each morning was reach for the incense—carefully selected for its cleansing properties—and light it. As the fragrant smoke curled into the air, it seemed to reset the entire space, gently sweeping away the lingering energies left behind by the previous day’s visitors.

Above, the flowers in the hanging garden stirred with the first touch of morning light, their vibrant petals responding as if in greeting. You watered them with a flick of the wrist, though it felt more like a gesture of care than necessity—they thrived on the shop's magic more than on water.

The shop had its own rhythm, a delicate balance between the mundane and the mystical. Travelers, clients, and even the occasional spirit wandered in, drawn by the promise of wishes granted—some simple, others far more complicated. You had seen all kinds: the weary traveler who just wanted safe passage home, the desperate lover seeking a second chance, or the ambitious merchant hoping to change their fortune.

But nothing in the emporium was granted without a cost, and the price wasn’t paid in gold or silver. Every transaction required something far more precious—a wish. Not the kind made on a whim, but a deeply held desire, pulled from the very core of one’s soul.

You would watch as they approached the counter, hands trembling ever so slightly as they revealed their request. Their eyes flickered with doubt as the weight of the exchange settled upon them. Standing before you, they were caught between what they needed and what they were about to give up, realizing that their wish, once surrendered, would be gone forever.

You always asked if they were certain. If they understood the nature of their sacrifice. But the emporium never rejected a payment once it was offered. 

You had become accustomed to the shop’s quirks, trusting its ancient magic to maintain a balance that you could only partly comprehend. It was more than a shop; it was a living entity, guiding not only the customers but you, its keeper, shaping the course of both your lives in subtle, unseen ways.

Everything functioned smoothly, like clockwork—until the day Yunho arrived.

From the moment Yunho stepped into the emporium, his presence unsettled you. There was a calm assurance in the way he carried himself, grounding everything around you. Despite never having met him before, something inside you insisted Yunho wasn’t a stranger. 

You recalled the strange memories that had flooded your senses—the wind whipping around you as you sat in a car with Yunho, the sun illuminating the way the corner of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. It felt so real, as if you’d lived that moment before, but then it dissolved into something deeper, something raw. 

The emotions had gripped you before you could react, dragging you under like a riptide. Your knees buckled, and the world tilted, leaving you gasping for air. Yunho was there, of course. Even through the thick haze of your feelings, he kept you steady, his arms the only thing keeping you from crumbling completely.

Even now, the echoes of that moment lingered in your body. You could still feel the weight of the emotions that had passed through you, as if the magic had left an imprint on your soul. 

“Fate has already tied their threads together.”

Your mind raced, trying to grasp Hongjoong and Wooyoung’s conversation. 

What did that mean? What threads? Could the connection you felt—this strange, undeniable pull—be part of some cosmic plan, one that had existed long before you even stepped foot in the emporium?

But how could you accept something so profound when you couldn’t even remember him? The thought haunted you, and yet, deep down, the pull toward Yunho only grew stronger, as if Fate itself refused to let you walk away.

You sighed, taking a long drag from your pipe, leaning back as you watched a few late summer blooms drift down from the skylight’s hanging garden. Their petals fluttered like tiny omens in the gentle breeze. Fall had arrived, and with the change in seasons, the line between the living and the departed would thin, bringing even more travelers and clients from different realms. 

The bell above the door jingled faintly, drawing your attention. You glanced over, catching the sleek, shadowy form slipping through the crack in the door—a flash of fur before it darted out into the evening. You immediately knew who it was.

“Wooyoung,” you called out. The cat froze mid-step, his tail twitching with surprise. Slowly, he turned his head, his onyx eyes gleaming mischievously in the dim light.

“Don’t even try it,” you added, placing your hands on your hips. He blinked at you, feigning innocence, but you weren’t about to let him slink away without answers this time.

The cat stretched lazily, as if he hadn’t just been caught trying to sneak out, then padded toward you with that familiar, too-casual saunter. By the time he reached you, he shifted back into his human form with a dramatic sigh, ruffling his messy hair as if you’d truly inconvenienced him.

“I was just stepping out,” Wooyoung said, giving you that infuriating smirk of his. “Needed some air. It’s stuffy in here with all this—" He waved his hand around vaguely, “—magic.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it. “You are magic, Wooyoung.” Your tone was teasing, playful. “Haven’t you had enough of the outside world and tormenting humans for one lifetime?”

“I’m a cat. Gotta see what the world’s up to,” he shrugged. 

There was a beat of silence, and you took a breath before speaking. “I heard your conversation with Hongjoong last night.”

Wooyoung froze for the briefest moment, his eyes widening just slightly before he masked it with another lazy grin. The shift in his demeanor was quick, but you’d known him long enough to recognize the flicker of panic he tried to bury. 

"It’s not polite to eavesdrop," he teased, his voice light but edged with a subtle wariness.

You weren’t about to let him wiggle his way out of this one. You had seen the way he was squirming, avoiding the real issue, and this time you needed answers. 

"What does fate have to do with me and Yunho?"

His smile faltered, a crack in his usual carefree facade. Wooyoung shifted uneasily, searching for the right words to soften the blow, but knowing there was no easy way out. He could feel your frustration mounting, the tension stretching unbearably thin.

"It’s... well, it’s like this," His voice lowered, and for once, he sounded serious. "Hongjoong thinks you and Yunho are bound together in ways that we don’t fully understand. It’s something that’s deeper and older…something that humans refer to as soulmates."

Soulmates.

It sounded ridiculous, unbelievable. You and Yunho, tied together by fate? He was just a traveler, someone the shop had revealed itself to. There was nothing special about him. 

"How?" you scoffed, shaking your head as if the mere action would dispel the ridiculous notion. "He’s a stranger, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. He shifted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at you. 

"Well… the thing is you have met him before.” But the thing is... you don’t remember. Because you can’t, Wooyoung wanted to say. 

"What are you talking about? Then why can’t I remember him? What did I forget?"

Your chest tightened. The frustration, the confusion, the pull you’d felt around Yunho ever since he first entered the shop—it all started to transform into something deeper, something more unsettling. It was as if a fog was lifting, revealing shadows of memories you couldn’t quite grasp.

He let out a long breath, rubbing his face. "It’s complicated. There are things...about you, that you don’t remember. That you chose not to remember."

Your mind raced. Memories? With Yunho? The man you barely knew, who had walked into your life like any other traveler? It didn’t make sense. None of this did.

"If I erased him from my life, then maybe I had a reason," you snapped, the words tasting bitter. Wooyoung winced but didn’t argue. 

"Fate doesn’t just disappear because you forget. He’s still tied to you, even if you can’t feel it." He paused, his eyes searching your face, hoping for some sign of understanding. "Maybe it’s why the shop revealed itself to him. It’s fate, pulling you back together."

You could feel the ground slipping from beneath you, your grip on reality loosening with every word he spoke. What Wooyoung was suggesting—soulmates, forgotten love, fate—it sounded like something out of a dream, a fantasy too far removed from the life you knew. 

"Why does it matter if I’m connected to him or not?" you continued, your throat tightening as the question lodged itself there, too painful to speak.

The air grew heavy, thick with tension, as if the walls themselves were reacting to the storm brewing inside you. The shelves rattled, and the shop’s energy pulsed erratically, reflecting the confusion and fear you could no longer keep at bay. The lanterns flickered wildly, casting frantic shadows that danced along the walls, twisting in the growing unease.

You tried to steady your breathing, to calm the chaos within, but your mind raced with unanswered questions, with the gnawing suspicion that Wooyoung was right, and it terrified you. 

Wooyoung’s face fell, the spark of his usual wit dimming into something darker, something almost sorrowful. He shifted uncomfortably again, as though he wished to be anywhere but here, at this moment.

"Because no one wants to see you hurting, Y/N,” His voice was barely above a whisper, thick with regret. "You were in so much pain that you thought forgetting him and becoming the keeper would make it stop."

That name again. Y/N. It echoed in your mind, a foreign weight on your chest. It felt like a name you should know, but it slipped through your grasp. A name tied to a life you no longer remembered. 

"That toy," he continued, "it triggered something, didn’t it? The memories—the emotions—they were too strong. And when you felt that, your magic went unstable. The shop could barely handle it."

You shuddered, the memory of that moment still fresh, still raw. But one question clawed at you, louder than the chaos you’d unleashed.

What had been so unbearable that the only answer was to forget?

“Why is it so cold?” you groaned, bouncing on your toes and rubbing your hands together, trying to get the blood flowing. 

The train station was always drafty, but today it felt like the cold had settled into your bones, refusing to leave. You shivered and glanced around, surprised to see no snow on the ground. It was odd—this time of year usually meant blankets of white everywhere, the world covered in a quiet stillness. Yet now, all you had was the biting wind and a gray sky threatening snow that never seemed to come.

Yunho stood beside you, his breath puffing out in small clouds as he huddled deeper into his coat. He laughed softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked at you. 

“You’re always cold,” he teased, nudging your arm with his elbow. “Should’ve worn more layers.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re practically a furnace,” you grumbled. 

The two of you had decided to take the train home for the holidays after your first semester of university. You were both exhausted—finals had drained whatever energy you had left—but there was excitement in the air as Christmas approached. 

“I’m surprised there’s no snow,” you mused, gazing up at the dull, overcast sky. The clouds hung low, thick and heavy, but still no sign of snowflakes falling. “Feels weird, doesn’t it? Christmas without snow.”

Yunho hummed in agreement beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat as he followed your gaze. “Yeah, it’s like something’s missing. Hopefully, it’ll snow while we’re home.”

His voice was hopeful, and you could see the small spark of excitement in his eyes. Yunho loved snow—it wasn’t just the beauty of it, but the way it brought a sense of stillness and magic to the world. The kind of magic that reminded you both of simpler times, of building snowmen as kids and staying out too long until your fingers were numb.

The next morning, Yunho’s wish came true.

Snow. Fresh, untouched snow covered everything. The rooftops, the streets, the trees—it all glistened under the early morning light, as if the entire world had been dipped in magic overnight. 

This was the moment he’d been waiting for, the moment he hoped for when you both had been standing at the train station, wondering if Christmas would even feel like Christmas without snow. Now, it was here. His wish had come true.

But more than that, he wanted to share this moment with you.

You blinked up at the sky, a few lazy snowflakes still drifting down, landing on your lashes and melting against your skin. Yunho stood beside you, watching the way your eyes lit up, the way you took in the moment like it was something precious. 

The two of you stood there for a while, wordlessly watching the snowfall together. It was the kind of stillness that felt sacred, the kind that only came with the first snow of the season. 

As Yunho glanced at you, his breath caught. You weren’t doing anything special—just standing there, bundled up in your oversized hoodie, your hair slightly messy from sleep, your cheeks flushed from the cold. You weren’t trying to impress anyone, least of all him. You were just you, in the most effortless way, and somehow, that had always been enough.

There was a simplicity to the moment that felt different, more profound than he expected. Last summer, when you’d spent long, sunny days together, he’d thought he understood what he felt for you. He cared about you more than anyone, maybe more than he should’ve let on. It was a love that had grown quietly, steadily, and was beginning to envelop him. 

It was too easy to love you. Too effortless, too natural, as if his heart had always been meant for you. And that’s what made it so dangerous.

He knew that sometimes, love—no matter how powerful—wasn’t enough. The thought of risking what you had—this simple, effortless connection that meant everything to him—for something as unpredictable as love felt like falling into the ocean.

And Yunho wasn’t ready to make the jump. 

He groaned, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples as if that could somehow ease the pounding in his skull. His head felt like it was being split open, a dull, relentless ache that refused to let up. The events of the previous night were a blur—fragments of conversation, too many drinks, and the sinking realization that he’d gone well past his limit.

He’s supposed to head back to Seoul today, back to his life and the steady rhythm of work that usually kept his life in order. But there was no way he could face that right now, not with the amount of alcohol that had been consumed. 

The events of last night came back to him in disjointed, hazy flashes. He remembered the way your fingers brushed against the plush toy, followed by the sudden paling of your face right before you collapsed to the floor. 

Yunho’s heart had nearly stopped at that moment, the world around him crashing into stillness. The usual hum of the emporium faded into nothing, the vibrant colors of the shelves and strange objects blurring into meaningless shapes. 

His legs moved before his mind could catch up, and he was running, sprinting toward you as if the very air had been torn from his lungs. The world shrank, narrowing to the sight of you lifeless in his arms.

"Y/N, stay with me," he whispered, panic thick in his voice as he cradled your unconscious body. It was the same terror he’d felt the day you disappeared, the same helpless, gut-wrenching fear that had kept him awake at night, haunted by the thought that he’d never see you again.

Yunho held you like his entire world depended on it, his arms wrapped tightly around you, desperate and unrelenting. He pressed his forehead against yours, as he cradled your head against his chest, the warmth of your skin barely noticeable as panic surged inside him.

“I’m sorry, just please, please don’t leave me,” he begged, his voice barely holding together. His fingers tightened their grip on you, trembling with the fear that if he let go, even for a second, you’d slip away for good.

He couldn’t lose you, not when he had just found you again.

Then came Wooyoung’s revelation. You had chosen to disappear from his life. It wasn’t an accident, or some cruel twist of fate. You had asked the shop to erase your memories—all of them. He could still hear Wooyoung’s voice, bitter and sharp, recounting the details, but the exact reason why Wooyoung had been so angry at him was lost in the fog of the night.

He remembered the sting—the way the door slammed behind him, the coldness of the night hitting his face as he stood there, dazed, confused and frustrated. You were alive, bound to this strange realm by forces he didn’t fully understand. But worse than that, you had willingly cut him out of your life.

After that, things blurred even more. He’d ended up at a bar, the numbness setting in as he ordered drink after drink, trying to drown the sea of emotions that threatened to consume him. Somewhere along the way, Yeosang had joined him, and Yunho found himself pouring his heart out—his frustrations, his guilt, his failures. He had ranted about the weight of trying to be the good guy while everything around him crumbled.

Now, in the harsh light of day, the weight of it all hit him with a different kind of intensity. His heart felt heavy, and he had no idea where to go from here.

Yunho sat up, staring at his phone as if it might give him the answers he was too afraid to ask for. His thumb hovered over Haewon’s name on the screen, trembling slightly. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say—he didn’t have a plan, only a sinking feeling in his chest that told him he couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine. 

The line rang once, then twice. By the third ring, his heart had started racing, the weight of everything he had to confront pressing down on him like a vice. When it went to voicemail, Yunho’s stomach dropped.

“Hey, it’s Haewon! Sorry I missed your call, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon!”

The artificial cheer in her voice made his skin crawl, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. He could almost picture her—smiling, carefree, the version of her that had loved him wholeheartedly. But that wasn’t who she was anymore. That wasn’t who they were.

"Hey..." he finally whispered, “give me a call when you get a chance.” Yunho waited for a beat, as if hoping she might pick up at the last second, but the line remained silent, empty.

“Yunho? Aren’t you getting ready to head back?” His mom’s voice was gentle, but it startled him from his thoughts. She appeared in the doorway, concern etched in the lines of her face. 

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know if I’m going back,” he admitted softly, his voice thick with uncertainty. 

His mom walked in, taking a seat on the edge of his bed, her presence warm and calming. She had always been able to read him better than anyone, even when he was trying his best to hide. Mrs. Jeong didn’t say anything for a moment, just letting the silence hang between them, giving him the space to breathe.

“Tell me more.”

Yunho sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of everything he’d been holding in. It was strange—he felt like a teenager again, venting to his mom about his problems, but this time it felt more suffocating. The future he had thought he wanted, the life he had worked so hard to build, no longer felt like his.

“I’m hungover. I’m miserable. I don’t want to marry Haewon. I’m not happy with my job or where I am in my life. Mingi is my only friend, Yeosang kind of hates me, and Y/N…” He let out a watery chuckle, the sound laced with bitterness. “She’s gone.”

There it was, the truth laid bare—the reality that had been gnawing at him for months, too terrifying to confront. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything he had been trying to ignore.

Mrs. Jeong’s gaze softened as she listened, her heart heavy with a mother’s instinct to protect, but knowing she couldn’t fix this for him. She reached out, placing a hand over his. 

“You’ve been carrying this for a while, haven’t you?” Her voice was soft, laced with a sadness that only came from witnessing the quiet battles of someone you love.

Yunho looked down to their joined hands, his throat tightening. The words he had held back for so long hovered on the edge of his lips, threatening to escape. 

“I thought I could handle it. But—" He paused, his fingers gripping hers a little tighter, his chest heaving as he fought to keep the floodgates closed. 

"I don’t want to keep pretending I’m okay,” he continued, voice cracking slightly. “I’m tired, Mom. Of the job, the engagement, everything. It’s like I’m suffocating, and I don’t know how to breathe anymore.” he replied, quieter now, almost like he was talking to himself. It was the first time he’d admitted it out loud. The fear that had been chaining him to a future he didn’t want.

His mother exhaled softly, her brow furrowing as she absorbed his words. After a moment, she squeezed his hand and spoke gently, her voice calm but firm.

“You’ve always been so considerate. Always thinking of others. But have you thought about what you want? Truly want, not just what you think you should want?”

It wasn’t something Yunho had ever allowed himself to consider fully, and even now, the thought seemed almost too outlandish, too selfish. But the way his mother looked at him, with such understanding, made it feel less frightening, less impossible to confront.

“You’re allowed to want something different, Yunho. You’re allowed to change your mind. You’re allowed to choose yourself.”

Her words struck something within him, unraveling the tightly wound rope of expectations he had tangled himself in for so long. He hesitated, his heart pounding as he dared to voice the question that had haunted him for months.

“So you wouldn’t be upset if I called off the wedding?” His voice was small, almost as if he were afraid the very mention of it might cause everything to collapse around him.

His mother shook her head, her expression soft and reassuring. “Of course not, Yunho. Haewon is lovely, but…” She paused, choosing her words carefully, as she looked at him. “I always felt like she wasn’t the one for you.”

Yunho blinked, surprised by the admission. His mother had never said anything like that before, and in all their talks about the wedding, she had always been supportive, never giving any sign that she might have doubts of her own. 

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” he asked, almost incredulous. 

“Because you’re finally listening to yourself. This is your life, not mine, not anyone else’s. It wasn’t my place to tell you how to live, Yunho. I wanted to believe that you knew what was best for you.”

“And if I quit my job?” he asked, testing the waters, anxiety sparking in his voice. 

“Gunho would be thrilled,” she laughed. “You know, he was absolutely livid when you took the finance job over the Tigers. I’ve never seen him so upset with you! He ranted for weeks about how you were wasting your talents behind a desk instead of being out there building the ultimate dream team.”

His mother’s laughter faded, replaced by a more serious expression. “We’ve all had our hopes for you, Yunho. But those were our hopes, not yours. Life’s not a straight line. It’s full of twists and turns. You don’t have to stay on a path that doesn’t feel right anymore.”

There was something comforting about the idea, the notion of stepping away from the path he had chosen, back to something that felt more like home—more like himself. Sitting with his mother, he began to wonder: What if it wasn’t reckless? What if choosing the life he truly wanted wasn’t some wild, selfish fantasy? What if it was okay to dream again?

His mind wandered to you, to the quiet snowfall and how the snowflakes caught on your lashes. He thought of that summer, driving to the beach, the wind in your hair and the sun beaming down on you, like the world itself couldn’t touch you as long as you were together.

He thought of meeting you for the first time at six years old, running across the street and greeting you as if he’d known him your entire life. It was as if he’d found his other half that day, the person who made him feel complete even in his innocence.

But then, more painfully, he thought of meeting you for the first time again. Only this time, you hadn’t known him at all. 

With you, there was no need to fill the silence. Everything felt easy, natural, like you were meant to exist beside each other. You were his best friend, the one person who made him feel like himself. And suddenly, Yunho knew. 

It was you. 

The version of himself that existed when he was with you—that was who he truly was. It was a terrifying realization, but at the same time, it was the most certain thing he’d felt in a long time. You had always been the one constant in his life, the one person who made everything feel okay, even when it wasn’t.

And he didn’t want to lose that. He didn’t want to lose you.

He wanted a future with you.

Yunho swallowed, his pulse quickening, but for the first time in what felt like forever, his mind was clear. 

“I think…” he began, his voice steady, resolute, “I know where I want to go from here.”

Pushing open the door, the familiar chime rang through the shop. It was empty, save for you, and Yunho’s breath caught when he saw you standing behind the counter, bathed in the glow of fading daylight. 

He glanced over at you, watching the way you moved, how you seemed so different and yet so familiar. The person standing in front of him was still you, the same person he’d known since childhood. The memories from childhood rushed back again—the snow, the summer sun, the first time you played baseball together. It all made sense now, in ways it never had before.

“Yunho,” you greeted, your voice carrying a warmth as you lifted your hand with a graceful flick. The scroll hovering beside you shimmered for a moment, then dissolved into the air, disappearing as if it had never existed. 

“How are you feeling?” Yunho asked quietly. There was something boyish, almost shy, in the way he looked at you, like he was a kid again, standing in front of his crush, hoping for something, anything, that would tell him he was making the right choice.

“Better. Thank you for being here the other night. It seems like you were a big help to Wooyoung.”

"I'm glad to hear that," he murmured, his voice soft as his gaze lingered on you, his eyes softening as if he were seeing you for the first time all over again. There was a quiet admiration that he couldn’t quite hide, no matter how hard he tried to keep his emotions in check.

"I uh…" he hesitated, his eyes flickered away for a moment, as if searching for courage in the silence between you, “I’m leaving for Seoul. Just to take care of some things. I wanted to see you before I left.”

You tilted your head, curiosity lighting up your eyes, the corners of your lips lifting in that familiar way that made his heart stutter. A playful yet gentle hum escaped your lips. 

“Oh? And why’s that?”

Your question hung in the air, teasing him, pulling at the tangled mess of feelings he'd tried to bury for so long. He looked at you, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he struggled to find the right response. 

“I—” he started, but his voice faltered. His pulse quickened, and for a moment, he felt completely exposed. “I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

The air around you seemed to still, the gravity of his admission settling like dust in the corners of the emporium. The idea of leaving felt wrong to him, and yet it was inevitable, something he had to do. 

Your eyes softened with understanding, feeling more like home than any place he could go. Something in your gaze recognized him, sensing the invisible thread that tied you together. 

“No matter where you are,” you said quietly, your voice carrying the same calm assurance that had always soothed him, “the emporium will always be within reach. As will I.”

The words were simple, yet they held a promise—a promise that went beyond physical space or memory. The emporium was never bound by the ordinary rules of the world, and neither, it seemed, were you. Your small, understanding smile made Yunho feel that, despite the uncertainty, everything would be okay.

“Besides,” you continued, a playful glint flickering in your eyes, “I can always ask Wooyoung to lend a helping hand. He knows the way.”

“That cat does nothing but bully me,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, recalling how Wooyoung had made him a target of mischief.

Your laugh filled the space between you, a sound that seemed to chase away the heaviness for just a moment. Though Yunho tried to maintain his frown, the corners of his lips betrayed him, lifting into a reluctant smile. 

Even though you didn’t remember him, it didn’t matter. There was something deeper between you, something unshakeable. And that, in its own way, gave him the strength he needed to leave.

You stepped forward, that invisible thread that had always seemed to exist between you tugged at your heart, drawing you toward him. It was a connection that transcended words, possibly even space and time. Yunho’s eyes lingered on you, their quiet intensity making your heart skip a beat.

“The next time I come into the shop,” he began, his voice low, “I’ll be ready to make my wish.”

You searched his face, trying to read the depths of what he meant, but all you found was that same gentle fervor staring back at you. 

“You’ve thought about it?”

“I have,” he admitted. “With everything that’s happening, I think I finally know what I want.”

The weight of his words settled between you like a promise. Whatever his wish was, it wasn’t something to be rushed—it belonged to the future, a time when he was ready to claim it. And somehow, you understood that.

“I’ll be waiting,” you whispered, though you knew Yunho heard it.

As he turned to leave, a sudden thought gripped you, pulling you back from the brink of your goodbye. “Yunho… before you leave…”

He froze at the sound of his name on your lips, his heart fluttering. Every breath, every glance, vibrated with something unspoken, something powerful.

“Who are you?” you asked, your voice soft, tentative. “To me?”

<< iii | v >>

taglist: @babymbbatinygirl @intowxnderland @hwasa28 @thedistractedwriter @beabatiny @lovelyglares @spenceatiny18 @tiny-apocalypse @sunnysidesins @heyitsmetonid @jwone @laurenwidjaja @potatos-on-clouds @xuchiya @syubseokie

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: xu minghao

enemies to lovers

'you're not mine but wouldn't you want to be?'

minghao tries is hardest to stay calm but all these higher ups are making it really hard. he turns to look at you and the sight of your hunched back and bitten raw lips makes him boil. are you two friends? no, far from it. minghao is very aware of the whole 'enemies' agenda that is happening between you both, but does he want to see you like this? nervous, agitated, scared? no. fucking hell, no. he wants to see you burning with passion, wants to see that fire in your eyes whenever you two argue - minghao feels like he's been punched in the chest when he realizes that he's ready to kill just for you to not look this scared.

'can we wrap this up?' he voices out loud, not bothering to hide his annoyance. 'i don't see any point in this.'

'it'd be wise for you to be more polite and remember who you are talking to, xu minghao.'

he sees how you cringe at this, how your hands ball up into fists at the way that man spoke to him. understanding that you are angered on his behalf warms minghao up; it feels incredibly nice to know that you care. he keeps his mouth shut, lets managers drag on about the issue and takes two step in your direction, stopping when your shoulders brush. you tense up at first, sending him a questioning glance but he only stays put to which you reply with a rejected sigh. they lecture him and then start lecturing you and minghao can't just stand still when you're obviously fuming. they are being rude to you and the words are out of his mouth before he can think them through: 'don't talk to her like that.' your sharp intake of breath kind of wakes him up and he stares ahead at all the managers, who all look shell shocked.

'you have no right to talk to her like that.' minghao pushes in a clipped tone. 'she did her best and so did i, our timing got fucked up but it's not our fault. don't speak to her in that tone.'

shortly after you get pulled away by other people and minghao is in for another 30 minutes of lecturing. by the time he finally gets out of that stuffy room, he feels like he wasted ten years of his life on nothing. he sighs, stretches and is about to turn when soft steps stop him. he knows it's you even before you call out his name.

'why did you do that?' you ask, squinting at him. 'why the sudden hero act?'

'it wasn't an act,' he says, rolling his eyes. god, he's so tired. 'but you're welcome.'

'i haven't asked for it,' you spit out, obviously angered. 'i don't need your pity.'

minghao turns around, raising his eyebrow. 'i have never pitied you,' he says strongly, feeling himself getting worked up again as some stupid side effect on you being close. 'can't you just say 'thank you' and move on?'

'i don't need your help!' you hiss. 'i haven't asked for it!'

and - only you can make minghao want to both bang his head on the wall from frustration and laugh like a maniac. he sometimes wants to step closer, pull you into his arms and... he doesn't know. part of him wants to strangle you for being so damn difficult all the fucking time, but another part wants to smash your mouths together so you can finally shut up. minghao is aware of how unhealthy it is just as he is aware of how often your gaze falls on his lips or his biceps. it's good to know he's not the only one who's gone mad. they say it's a fine line between hatred and love and for minghao right now this line is so thin that he barely see it anymore. is it the same for you? he wants to ask, but instead he says: 'why you didn't stop me then? you always could just interrupt me over there but you didn't say a thing. if you don't need my help why i was the one who you turned to when authorities came? you didn't say anything but you searched for me with your eyes, don't even try to deny it.'

five steps. that's the distance that separates you two and minghao thinks it's fitting. he can take two and then you can take two and then maybe you'll play game of chicken on that last step. but you surprise him with taking all those five steps yourself, storming onto him with fire in your eyes that he loves so much. 'you're not the one to talk, minghao. you think i don't know that it was you who asked everyone to wait up for me? who brought medicine to my team when i fell sick?' you try to push him on his chest but minghao easily catches you wrist in his, not letting you move. 'let me go.'

'that's not what you want.' he says in a calm tone that doesn't show all the hurricane which's happening inside of him.

reality of how close you two are standing dawns on you. jerkily, you try to step back but his hold on you is too strong. 'let me go,' you whisper, voice wavering. 'hao, let me go.'

hao. 'that's not what you want,' minghao whispers and lets his other hand wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to his chest. 'tell me what you really want, angel.' he sees how you shudder at the petname and smiles, leaning in. he lets go of your wrist, locking his arms around you instead. 'you can go if you want.' he leans in, brushing your noses together. 'or you can stay. and i can never, ever let you go. which i think is what you actually want.'

it's brave. it's bold, it's brazen and - it works. your body sags in his arms and you hide your face in his neck, hugging him back. 'prick,' you mutter into his neck, raising goosebumps where your lips touch his skin. 'self absorbed asshole.'

'yeah,' minghao easily agrees, hugging you tighter. 'prick, self absorbed asshole that i will never, ever let you go.'

a/n: this one is a bit vague but i couldn't figure out how to write this for the live of me. i hope this was okay? let me know! - nini

my seventeen works are here

my formula 1 works are here

[lady-of-endless]

"Always Been You"

Summary: The Marine vice admiral misses his enemy.

Tags: fem reader; whipped Smoker; enemies to lovers; you fell first, he fell harder;

Author's Note: I have had some One Piece feels lately and wanted to write my favorite dynamic with Smoker, our beloved. Let me know if you'd be interested in a second part.

..........................................................................................

Smoker could never tell when you were close but you always knew when he was.

You walked through his heavy smoke many times, feeling it cling to your clothes and hair and seeing it float around you when he was after you as an obvious and thrilling warning.

Now, smoke only floated towards the ceiling of his bedroom, from his cigar while his eyes were fixed on the empty spot of his bed.

Smoker lit up the second cigar and narrowed his eyes, remembering how you would always steal one of the two cigars he always had between his teeth, just to tease him.

You.

Where the hell were you?

The secret rendez-vous have come to an end for a few days, abruptly. You were not showing your face anymore around town, staying hidden God knows where and why, and the Marine couldn't decide if he only missed the touch of your warm breath on his skin and the pleasurable tension or everything that made you the pirate he fell for against his will.

He took another long drag, getting up from his bed and walking to the opened window of his bedroom. He looked at the Loguetown night sky. Even if you worked from the smallest and hidden corners of the town, he would still somehow stumble across you. It was like you wanted to be found by him on purpose, but not anymore lately.

Smoker took a deep breath, taking in both the taste of his cigars and the crispness of the cool night air, feeling his thoughts slowly drift off again. He tried to concentrate only on his work and his duties as a Vice Admiral, but his focus kept wavering as he felt himself being pulled back to the thought of you.

So much time passed since your last encounter that Smoker felt he could remember your face only from the wanted poster and not the flashbacks that get him distracted more frequently lately. He didn't want to think about how long you've been missing, how long he couldn't try to capture and arrest you or wrap his arms around you.

Smoker groaned, disgusted by his vulnerability. To be in such a high position and to have such a weakness for the enemy's affection was something that had to be kept secret.

He hated having to hide those affairs from the Marines. He despised lies but he had to be a liar to them for you. He had to lie about why he arrived later than usual in the morning, about why he looked disheveled before meetings, about the lipstick stains from his uniform jacket.

But you made it all so damn worth it and thrilling. Now, Smoker didn't know what to look forward to besides the moment when he'll chase you again. If you'll ever get back. Pirates are always unpredictable, after all, and he should have been grateful for your absence, not feel bitter about it.

"Damn it..." He muttered to himself, annoyed at his weakness. It was strange and revolting to long for the enemy's affection and not for arresting you once and for all.

As a vice admiral and commander of the Marines, he had a duty to uphold and a reputation to maintain. What would his peers think if they knew he was connected to a woman who actively defied and undermined the World Government as a pirate? His only safe space was his mind, where he could think about you without restrictions even when he tried so hard not to, stopping himself so many times.

He wished he could do his job without interfering feelings. He tried so hard to respond to your teasing by telling you he despises your kind without pulling you against him, in his arms.

His transponder snail rang suddenly, at that late night hour.

Smoker didn't flinch and reached for the transporder without even looking at who it was, almost like a reflex.

"Yeah?" He answered, his voice rough. It was Tashigi, of course. "Tashigi speak, what is it?" He asked, sitting down on the edge of his bed, frowning. He was immediately alert, not liking her concerned tone and the time of the call.

"It's her again. She has been seen in town." His subordinate reported sighing at the issue.

Smoker's cigars fell from his lips onto the floor.

"Captain?" Tashigi asked at the lack of response.

"I will inform the rest of the team to go out and search for her right now. I'll even track her down myself alone if I have to." Smoker responded, sounding more than just authoritative and furious, ending the call but knowing too well that he won't follow the plan and will go after you alone without the others. He groaned at the thought that he lied to his subordinates once again, just for your sake.

If there was one thing he didn't need to hide in this complicated affair was that he couldn't deny the thrill of being able to hunt you once again. He was the White Hunter, after all.

The thought of seeing you again filled him with an intoxicating rush of excitement and tension. In his troublesome imagination, Smoker could already see himself standing in front of you, looking down into your eyes, your lips a few inches away from his as you teased and riled each other until he kissed you roughly enough so that his stubble left your soft skin rosy and sensitive.

He got up from his bed and began to get dressed, his movements fueled by anticipation.

Smoker put on his boots and scoffed as he remembered each of your successful getaways and your incredible ability to get out of the Marine's grasp every time. It was annoying and also fascinating to watch you play nice, charming, and fool every Marine that tried to capture you. Yet, he couldn't help but wonder if he was just another victim of your act too, a plaything. It was time to get you and the answer to this.

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 21

Hey guys!! The story is starting ramp up to the finish line! I hope you guys are still enjoying it as much I enjoyed writing it.

In this we have Steve taking back his agency, Eddie and Jeff having a little chat and Abbadon leaning on his friends.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

~

As soon as Abbadon grabbed the mic, the audience knew they were going to be in for a ride.

“Las Vegas!” he roared to the crowd, who roared back. “There seems to be some confusion about how naughty I got with Eddie Munson in Denver.”

The crowd went wild, screaming and jumping up and down.

“I never do anything without prior consent,” he grinned. “I’m a gentleman, until you tell me you want it otherwise.” He winked and the crowd screamed back. “I’m not saying I’m coming for Asmodeus’s job,” Abbadon said, draping himself over his guitarist’s shoulders, “but I’m no innocent. I don’t need protection.” He walked across the stage to Astraeus. “I’ve always been affectionate. But I think it’s time to be put the rumors to bed.”

“Oooooohhhhhh!” Asmodeus and Astraeus shouted and got the crowd to say it with them. Once they were loud enough, Azrael started rapidly tapping his drums to further build up tension.

Just when Abbadon was sure the tension couldn’t stretch much further he said, “I’m not a slut. I’m the slut!” The throng of people roared back. “And I’m not going to hide who I am to make myself palpable to people I’ve never met or no longer have any connection to me. I am Abbadon! I AM THE FALLEN!”

Waiting in the wings was Jeff and Eddie. They had gathered to watch Steve do this in person instead of watching it live in the green room.

Jeff cocked his head to the side and clicked his tongue. “Whatever else you think of Abbadon and the rest of the band, you have to admit the man has charisma.”

Eddie pressed his lips together and nodded. He was proud of Steve. Of course he was, but it did sting a little that it took Shane to get him to talk about it. Not him, Not Robin. Hell, not even Simon, whom Eddie thought was unhealthily close to Steve. Shane. Of all the band members, Shane had the least in common with Steve. Spence had the EMT thing, Simon, the upper class upbringing. Other than them liking metal, they couldn’t be further apart then if God planned it that way.

Shane came from a middle class liberal family with an older sister he was close with. Hell, he even still talked to his parents while Steve definitely did not. He was a giant nerd who loved history and myths. Steve struggled in school and only made it out alive because he was on three sports teams and captains of two of them. Shane even slept around to Steve’s search for ‘the one.’ Which Eddie really, really hoped was him.

But maybe that was it. Maybe the reason Shane could get through to Steve was because they didn’t have much in common. Maybe their connection were their differences. That they were friends in spite of the gap between them.

Eddie almost wanted to get Steve into therapy like Gareth was. Because even though it always seemed to him that Gareth was one drink away from destruction these days, the therapy did appear to be working.

Steve could really use something like that.

They watched the set a little bit longer.

“Are you sure you’re okay with Abbadon flirting with Gareth?” Jeff asked.

Eddie blinked for a moment wondering where the comment was coming from. Because, sure, Gareth had talked non-stop about Abbadon being his favorite member, even going as far as to tattoo Abbadon’s mask on his left bicep. But Gareth didn’t seem interested in Abbadon as a person.

And it wasn’t like Steve was really interested in him that way before or after becoming a rockstar.

“Gareth and Abbadon both say it’s fine,” he murmured after a moment or two. “And I trust Abbadon.”

Jeff hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah okay. So this time it’s not going to be the duet?”

“No, I don’t want a repeat of last time. Abbadon is going to be taking the lead vocals on ‘Might as Well Fly’, I think he’ll lend a haunting quality to it.”

Jeff pursed his lips. Steve definitely had the pipes for it, but it wasn’t the song out of their discography that he would have chosen for Abbadon to shred.

Eddie huffed beside him and crossed his arms in front of him. “Let me guess, you have other ideas?”

“Can Abbadon play guitar?” Jeff asked rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Eddie shrugged. “I mean, I guess. He’s like able to play piano, violin, and guitar. Can he play the song you’re thinking of is the real question.”

Jeff turned to him with a grin. “Oh, if I know our friend as well as I think I do, he knows it.”

Eddie frowned at him and cocked his head to the side. “Which one?”

Jeff told him and Eddie rubbed his lips, skeptical. It was a good song. Harder than ‘Might as Well Fly’ and faster too. It had an extra guitar to it because it originally featured a famous guitarist. But it was also the lead guitar on that song.

“Do you really think he can do it?” he asked, licking his upper lip slowly.

Jeff scoffed, “Why? Do you think he can’t?” Eddie just shrugged. “Because holy hell, dude, I was talking to Asmodeus and he was telling me they formed their band over their love of our music. I’m betting if you asked Abbadon he could list his favorite albums alphabetically, chronologically, or which one is best musically. Even before you guys got together, before their band, before we even got a record deal, he’s been your number one fan. And he’s got the chops for it. You know he does.”

Eddie looked around to make sure no one had heard Jeff’s impassioned speech. He ducked his head. “Have Abbadon meet us before we go on to discuss the change while they setup our equipment.”

Jeff grinned and licked his lips. “You won’t regret this. And neither will they.” He jutted his chin out at the roaring crowd.

And yeah, Eddie knew he was being ridiculous about the song. He was trying to play this safe, but Steve didn’t need safe right now. He needed to take back his agency and Eddie knew that this song? It was fucking perfect for Steve. They would be able to feed off the roar of the crowd and give Steve a chance to really show them how good he is.

~

Steve loved the idea of the change in song. Don’t get him wrong, he loved ‘Might as Well Fly’. It just wasn’t the vibe he was trying to send today. Steve already was flying. Now he was raging at the people who were trying to clip his wings. And fuck them.

It meant that he couldn’t start on Gareth’s lap, but that was okay. This was going to be better. A hell of a lot better.

He pulled on his Corroded Coffin logo lined coat and swapped his mask for the lighter everyday one. He was going to need the extra movement for these vocals. He started in the middle again, this time in front of Corroded Coffin instead of between them.

“Hey, Las Vegas!” Eddie cried. “You bitches ready to rock?”

The crowd screamed back and Eddie laughed. “We’ve got a treat for you tonight!” The crowd screamed even louder. “We don’t usually play ‘Nightmare Killer’ because we don’t have that third guitarist.”

The audience went wild, screaming and whistling and stomping their feet in excitement.

“We asked Asmodeus,” Eddie continued. “But he’s too cool for us!” The crowd made teasing booing noises and oohhed. “But that’s okay, we found someone else willing to play.”

The room fell to a hush as Abbadon’s spotlight came on. There was some uneasy wrestling from the audience as he stood with his ear mic and white guitar. Something that eagle-eyed fans would know about Eddie and Jeff was that they didn’t own a white guitar. And all The Fallen fans knew that all of Asmodeus’s guitars were red and vaguely devil themed. This wasn’t his either. This was clearly Abbadon’s.

Abbadon began the opening riff and the crowd took a massive intake of breath as he sailed perfectly through the chunky bits of the original artist’s style. Then he began to sing, the haunting quality of his voice filling in the gaps of the silence that seemed to stretch on from the audience.

Eddie didn’t even bother trying to hold back the look of admiration on his face as he joined Abbadon for the chorus. Their vocals mixing beautifully to the backdrop of a hell beast looking for more from life than the violence it was weaned on.

Throughout the song the only sounds from the crowd were clapping in time to the beat. Eddie had never seen anything like at their concerts before. It was like there was this reverence for what was happening on stage.

Abbadon ate it up and played it up as he enticed the members of Corroded Coffin to him. Each of the members resisted. Then Abbadon handed his guitar off to a roadie and climbed the stairs to the platform that Gareth was on. He straddled Gareth’s lap and drumming cut out as his bandmates played on. From behind it looked like they were kissing, but with Abbadon’s mic off they were making fun of each other. Then suddenly he whirled on Gareth’s lap and hit the drums right on the last note with a crash.

Then in an instant the crowd thundered to life, cheering and stomping and clapping.

Abbadon blew Gareth a kiss and leapt off the platform to take his bows. The flutter of the coat revealing the Corroded Coffin logo again and the crowd screamed even louder. He blew kisses to the crowd and continued to bow. Eddie whistled loudly and Abbadon laughed.

Eddie grabbed the microphone. “Abbadon everyone! One very talented son of bitch! Another round of applause everyone!”

The crowd continued to go wild. Abbadon let out a whoop and jumped up and down, laughing. It was exhilarating, everyone just feeding the energy back to Abbadon and just feeling high off that. Eddie and Jeff shared a glance and Jeff winked. Eddie shook his head. Because yeah, Jeff won that bet.

Abbadon waved goodbye and walked off the stage. Once he was out of view of the audience Hopper swooped in and immediately threw a cool, damp towel over his head and Steve nearly sank to his knees in relief. Because try as they might, the hoods were still fucking hot. Hopper lead him to the dressing room where the rests of The Fallen were waiting.

As soon as the door closed tightly behind Abbadon, Steve pushed back the hood and ripped off the mask. His hair was wet and sweat clung to his face and neck. He let himself sink slowly into the soft cushions of the sofa and laid his head back.

A bottled water was being pushed into his hand and an ice pack was placed on his brow. He let out a small shuddering breath. He opened the water and dumped half of it on his face and the rest into his mouth.

“Thanks, guys,” Steve muttered, his eyes fluttering shut. “How did I look out there?”

Simon huffed a little a laugh. “Like fucking rock god.”

“I’m with Simon,” Spence said. “It won’t silence the naysayers but it’ll drown them out which is even better.”

Steve laughed. “Fuck that was so much fun. Gareth called me a queen. So I called him a bitch. I honestly don’t know if he likes Abbadon more now, or less!”

“Considering how little time you had to prepare,” Shane said, sprawled over an armchair instead of on the floor for a change, “I say you kicked ass. You’re going to get people saying you weren’t really playing but, they can suck your dick!”

Steve lifted his head, the ice pack sliding into his hand. “I hate doing this without you guys, though,” he admitted. “But as Shane pointed out, I’m already super affectionate with you already and short of French kissing Simon, they aren’t going to believe shit.”

“Nothing against you, Steve,” Simon said with a wince, “but I really don’t want your tongue down my throat.”

Shane raised his hand. “I volunteer! I volunteer!”

They all laughed. Then Robin as Celeste slipped in and sat next to Steve. She grabbed the ice pack and pressed it to the back of her neck. They all waited as she let her defenses slowly come down. She pulled off the wig and tossed it Spence who caught it deftly.

“Vickie has been working tirelessly tonight to keep an eye on social media,” Robin began, “she even has two of her assistants watching all the accounts, constantly refreshing.”

Steve turned on the couch to face her. “And what are they saying?”

Simon and Spence immediately moved over to her to sit on either side of her and Steve. Shane sprawled over the back like some Renaissance painting. He rustled her hair and she huffed out a laugh.

“You’re getting the trolls from both fans shit talking about how Abbadon is better than Corroded Coffin and should have turned them down like Asmodeus,” she continued, pausing only for Simon’s huff of laughter. “The Corroded Coffin fans were whining about how Abbadon’s vocals ruined the song and that he probably faking the guitar playing for the views.”

“I’d like to see them fake that bridge,” Steve scoffed. “It’s insane.”

Simon nodded. “I don’t think I could do it.” He snapped his fingers. “That’s what I’ll do. I’ll post a Tiktok of me trying to play it.”

“Wait!” Spence said. “Have Steve do it first, showing a close up of the hands dancing on the frets. Then you stitch it with your version. That should kick them in the ass.”

Steve and Simon fist bumped each other. “Hell yeah!”

“But the rest of the tweets and shit coming in is overwhelmingly positive,” Robin finished. “So that Tiktok should silence the Corroded Coffin fans.”

When Simon did his stitch of Steve’s video he made sure to admonish their fans about thinking who’s better than who. He was friends with the boys in CC and the being ‘too cool’ was a fucking joke.

Then Eddie did a stitch of both of their videos and showed them again how complicated the riff was for Abbadon to play by playing it himself. Abbadon and Asmodeus’s videos racked up a lot of views and shares, but Eddie’s really did the numbers. It blew up and completely overshadowed all the haters.

Steve made sure to thank Eddie for that later in the privacy of Eddie’s hotel room.

`

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay

[animentality]

special announcement time

alright everyone.

at long last, i have finished polishing my latest writing project, a horror romcom fantasy novel (94k words), and am looking for beta readers to tell me what they think of it.

but not only that...

i am also interested in beta swapping.

sooooooooo.

if you got an ongoing fanfic, if you've got a novel of your own...or any other kind of big writing project, or web comic even, that you want eyes on...dm me or send me an ask (or reply to this post, I'll reach out).

i have turned on dms and replies for this purpose.

it can be pretty much any length and any genre, about anything. i don't mind any experience level either, whether you've never written anything at all, or have been doing it for years. i can help aspiring authors (trad or indie), fanfic authors who want to participate in fan events/post to AO3, people who don't want to share their work with the public...

i'll read sci fi, fantasy, horror, historical, contemporary, romance. porn. any genre, with any audience (YA, MG, adult, whatever).

but also, you know. we don't have to swap. if you just wanna read it, that's perfectly alright too. summary here, so you can see if you'd be interested.

Warnings: Graphic violence, child death (death of an infant), self-harm (because their powers are blood-based, and they need to self harm in order to use them), implied sexual assault/incest (not graphic), animal death (a lot of it), and oh yeah, sex scenes. this is an adult romantasy. adult.

anyway.

here:

In a world ravaged by war between the old gods and the new, demigods sow chaos and discord wherever they go, destined to be either legendary heroes or fearsome villains. But Marrow is not like other demigods. They are the child of the god of blood and slaughter, born with only one purpose: to kill in their savage father’s name, and bleed the entire world dry. The one problem? 

The only living creature they want to kill is their father.

But Marrow has been imprisoned within their temple for their entire life, unable to realize that dream…until now. A deal with a devil allows them to escape, making their way into a hostile world they know little about- and matters are not helped by the fact that their father can use their eyes to see what they're seeing at any time. To keep him from seeing their location, Marrow must remained blindfolded. But Marrow, an eternal optimist, won’t let their lack of vision stop them from fulfilling their lifelong dream. 

The demigod hunter might, however. Arlo Ren is a member of the Razor Watch, a religious order dedicated to the goddess of the hunt. He is clever, but impulsive, eager to prove himself to his goddess by capturing powerful prey. Soon after meeting Marrow by chance, and discovering what they are, he sees his opportunity and refuses to let it go. Literally. The demigod hunter handcuffs the demigod to his side, and swears to sacrifice them in his god’s name. Luckily for him, Marrow is an inexperienced, blind pacifist, who needs him to guide them through a dangerous, unknown world. They fully intend to escape him eventually. But perhaps a demigod and a demigod hunter have more in common than they might think. Perhaps they might even need each other...but they will, at the very least, need to learn how to live, work, and fight together as they are relentlessly chased by Marrow’s powerful demigod siblings, all hoping to kill their youngest sibling and please the god they abandoned. 

So yeaaaah. DM or replied or whatever if interested. We can chat some more in discord or on Tumblr (but I'm faster on discord).

[lyraa-kill]

Shapeshifter Simon who’s true form is the Cerberus (new MW3 alone skin), only he hides it nearly all the time. Very few people know his “monster” status, and he’d like to keep it that way. He’d honestly like to stay in his human form for the rest of his life and completely forget about his two other heads.

Until he meets Johnny.

Suddenly, he wants Johnny to know him. He aches and yearns for Johnny to see his true form and still tell him that he loves him, that he thinks he’s handsome, that he wants to be with him. The two other consciousnesses he conceals scream at him inside to be let out, they want to know Johnny too! They want to be kissed and their faces held too! It’s not fair that Simon gets all of Johnny’s affection!

So one day, he calls Johnny into his room. He needs to show him. The nerves and adrenaline are coursing through his body, making him shake and his mouth go dry.

Johnny knocks on the door, then slowly opens it up once Simon says to come in.

“Ye wanted to see me?” Johnny asks, shutting the door behind him and making his way to Simon.

Simon nods. He can’t speak. Fuck, the anxiety is so bad. He feels his heart pounding at his chest like it’s about to break through his ribs.

“What’s wrong? Are ye alrigh’?” Johnny reaches up and gently holds Simon’s face, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs through his mask. Simon’s two other heads cry inside, wanting to know that touch as well.

“I’m- I’m okay.” Simon stammers. “I… I need to show you something.”

Johnny nods and looks at Simon, waiting.

“It’s weird. You’re going to freak out. B-but I need you to know, okay? I… I need to show you who I am. I need… I want to know if you can still love me, once you see the real me.”

Johnny’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Ah don’t understand. Of course I love you. That’s never going to change.”

Simon shakes his head. “Just… please. Johnny. Don’t freak out. Promise me you’ll stay calm.”

Johnny nods, a look of confusion on his face. “I promise.”

Simon lets loose a long sigh. Here goes nothing. Slowly, he lets the transformation start to course through him. He feels his flesh move and mold itself into its proper place, his bones and veins and muscles and arteries rearranging themselves. He feels his two other heads spring from his shoulders, his other arms pushing out of his back.

Johnny watches. His eyes go wide, his heart starts to pound. What the fuck is he witnessing? What is his boyfriend turning into? What is Simon turning into?

When the transformation is complete, Simon (and Ghost and Riley) stand there. Utterly terrified. Ghost and Riley are ecstatic to see Johnny with their own eyes for the first time, but they can also see the look of panic on Johnny’s face. The subtle step back he took. They can hear the pounding of his heart, smell the adrenaline in his blood.

“I’m a shapeshifter,” Simon says. “This… this is what I truly look like.”

Johnny stands there in silence.

“I know you weren’t expecting this and that it seems unbelievable. I know it’s probably terrifying. I’m… I’m sorry. Fuck. God, Johnny- I’m so fucking sorry-“

Simon starts to tear up looking at Johnny’s shocked face. He just ruined this. He ruined the most perfect and beautiful thing in his life. He starts to transform back, cringing when Ghost and Riley start to groan in protest.

Johnny reaches out, putting his hands on his shoulders. “Wait!” He exclaims.

Simon stops the transition. He gulps.

Johnny takes a deep breath in and swallows the rock in his throat. He looks at all three heads. Really looks at them. The middle one is his Simon. His perfect, beautiful, sculpted by the god’s Simon. The one to the left, because of the mask, looks near identical to Simon, but there’s something different in the eyes. The one to the right wears a different mask, and his face looks slightly different, his eyes more rounded and soft.

They’re all beautiful. If this is who Simon really is, if he’s three people in one, Johnny can love him. He can love all three of them. Absolutely.

“I’m not… I’m not scared of ye, Simon. I’m not.” Johnny says. “This is a little shocking and it’s not what I was expecting. I… wasn’t even aware this sort of thing could happen in reality. But I’m not scared. Never of you.”

Simon sighed, tears falling from his eyes. Ghost and Riley join in too.

“They’ve been wanting to meet you,” Simon whispers. “Was jealous I got you all to myself.”

Johnny smiles. “That right?”

The head to the left groans, a few raspy inaudible words leaving its mouth. “That’s ghost.” Simon says. The head to the left groans as well, muttering out a small Johnny. “That’s Riley.”

Johnny smiles. He holds Simon’s face in his hands, then softly kisses him on the forehead. “I love you, Simon.” He says. He turns to the left and grabs that head, saying, “I love you too, Ghost.” He then turns to the last head, softly holding him under the chin and kissing him on the tip of the nose, then says, “I love you as well, Riley.”

All three heads cry from joy. Simon at being accepted, and Ghost and Riley finally being able to feel Johnny’s touch.