#i main both of them so they have to be friends

[cazort]

things people can do:

listen and understand and show you they understand, which can sometimes help you feel better even if that's the only thing they do

help you with an insight or idea that you might not have thought of, which might improve your situation or how you feel

offer you some sort of material help if it's a situation where that would help (and sometimes material help can indirectly help with problems they have no control over, like for example if i'm really stressed by a situation out of my control, having someone bring me food when i'm out of food might help me so much even if the main bad situation itself is unchanged)

be grateful that you have shared with them how you are really doing, even if they can't do anything to make you feel better. i know i am like this much of the time, like when i know someone well, i can often tell when they're not fine but say they're fine. and when they tell me how they're really doing, it makes me feel good, because i know they trust me and feel safe and comfortable enough with me to share how they are really doing.

feel better about their own struggles. the person asking you how you are, may not be doing well themselves. they may even have similar struggles. and if everyone around them says they are fine, they may feel alone. but if you open up, you may be helping them to realize they are not alone. you can then both feel solidarity, perhaps commiserate.

so yeah. this is why i often actually tell people what is going on with me when i'm not fine, and why i really appreciate it when others do the same with me.

not just friends, sometimes strangers.

like once i was in a coffee shop and there was a long line and the scene was hectic and several customers in front of me had been snippy with the baristas, so when i got up to the front of the line the barista was like "what can i get you?" and i paused and i was like "how are you?"

it threw her off guard. she sighed and i could see her whole posture change, like she shrugged her shoulders and physically relaxed and her face changed. she looked visibly tired and exasperated but more relaxed, and she didn't answer my question but she didn't need to, i could read the answer all over her face. and she was like: "you are the first person who has asked me that in a while and i can tell you care" and that's all she said and then i made my order.

but it really touched me because it was a genuine human connection, a sharing of a moment of intimacy with a stranger that i think was beneficial for both of us, in a sea of hectic, stressy interactions that can be quite alienating.

i think that that small interaction taught me a deep lesson, that sometimes, sharing with someone that you are not doing well, can actually be a gift to that person. it can be a tiny moment of mutual healing, even if nothing further comes from it. it reaffirms the thread of humanity that is all-too-often missing in our modern society.

[leafofkudzu]

Happy New Year, everyone - I hope 2025 treats you all well! On my end, this upcoming Saturday marks the second anniversary of my own little New Years' resolution: the art parties I host with my guild, [VS] Verdant Shield! And, as has now become tradition, we'll return to where it all began, the location of the very first party - the (uninstanced) asura home instance in Rata Sum!

But first, a quick tl;dr for what said art parties are! A concept carried over from Final Fantasy XIV, art parties are in-game get-togethers for artists of all kinds to hang out, chat, and create together! For GW2 parties there’s more of an emphasis on hanging out and gathering references during the party itself, and then in the days/weeks following to work on your creations at your own pace and then post to the shared art party tag. We’ve used the same one (#VSArtParty) since the very beginning so you can go allll the way back and explore what people have made!

Even more tl;dr is this: the ‘goal’ of an art party isn’t to be drawn, but to draw others, and share with the community!

Time and /squadjoin information is below the cut, but will also be posted again on the day of the party as things begin!

Location Information:

It's a little out of the way, but my intention back in the day was to pick a location near and dear to my asura-loving heart while also not drawing uninvited eyes, and such did the uninstanced asura home instance get chosen! To get yourself over there you'll want to have some kind of flying mount, or at the very least a teleport-to-friend to pop yourself over!

Time & Squad Details:

As is customary, we’ll be having two parties - the first one on EU servers and the second on NA - with an hour break in between for those who may want to attend both!

The EU server party will begin at 9pm Central European Time (aka 3pm Eastern Standard Time or 4 hours before in-game reset). I’ll be hosting this one on my EU alt account, so please either /whisper or /squadjoin Paranomalous Plexxi for a taxi invite if you don’t end up on the right map!

The NA server party will begin 1 hour after the EU party’s official end, at 7pm Eastern Standard Time (aka 1am Central European Time or at in-game reset). I’ll be on my main account for this one and may switch ‘host’ characters a few times, but please /whisper or /squadjoin Teekzi for a taxi invite if you don’t see my customary white cat tag hanging around on your map!

Closing Words:

Had a few real-life delays to making this post, thank you for your patience! Related to one such real-life delay, have cat tax by way of apology:

Anyway! Expect perhaps something a little special for this month's party, maybe some trivia or something? I had a few plans in the works but most fell through due to irl things, as they often do. Regardless, I always appreciate everyone who comes out to these parties - you are always what make them special! Take care of yourselves, enjoy your New Years' festivities, and I'll see you this Saturday! ♥

[yurimother]

Second English Edition of Independent Yuri Manga Magazine “Galette” Launches Crowdfunding on Kickstarter

On Tuesday, the independent, creator-owned Yuri manga magazine Galette launched its new Kickstarter campaign to fund its second English edition. This initiative follows the successful crowdfunding of its first English edition in August.

In the first 24 hours, the campaign raised over ¥3,000,000 (approximately $19,000), surpassing its initial goal of ¥2,000,000 (around $12,500). At the time of publication, it has doubled its goal with the support of over 300 backers contributing to the project, putting it in the top 10 of current Kickstarter campaigns.

The crowdfunding campaign is set to conclude on January 31.

The first overseas volume and special booklet can be purchased as optional add-ons, so those who did not pledge to the first Kickstarter still have the option to acquire them.

The English editions of Galette contain translated versions of selected works from the magazine’s publication history. The second volume includes seven titles, including an extra story from Milk Morinaga’s bestselling 2006 manga (licensed in English by Seven Seas). It will be published in both ebook and paperback formats and will be around 260 pages long.

The series included in the second special English edition of Galette are:

Liberty by Izumi Kitta× Moto Momono

I Want You to Show it Only to Me by Nekohariko 22

That Woman in the Infirmary by Miyuki Yorita

Fluffy, Fuzzy, Dreamy by Mera Hakamada

The Girls' Arcadia by Haru Yatosaki

Sky Blue Melancholic by Ringo Hamano

Grooming Everyday (GIRL FRIENDS extra edition) by Milk Morinaga

The Kickstarter campaign includes several stretch goals such as a new book cover, additional color illustrations, postcards, and an acrylic stand of Yuna and Rena from Milk Morinaga’s My Cute Little Kitten (also licensed in English by Seven Seas).

Additionally, backers have the option to pledge at a higher level and receive a bonus special booklet containing English editions of previously published one-shots by Milk Morinaga, Mera Hakamada, Yukino Sakuraya, Moto Momono, and Nekohariko 22.

The manga is translated by Red String Translations.

Galette is a creator-owned Yuri manga magazine, largely funded via memberships on Fantia. The first Japanese issue of the quarterly magazine was published in February 2017. Since then, Galette Works has published 32 volumes of Galette alongside multiple collected volumes of serialized works and 25 volumes of its sister publications, Petit Galette and Galette Meets, the latter of which feature more adult content than the main magazine.

Galette Works plans to crowdfund and publish seven volumes of this overseas edition, drawing from eight years of previous releases. Afterward, Japanese and English editions of Galette will be published simultaneously. However, if any future edition fails to reach its funding goal, Galette Works will cease releasing English volumes.

You can support the Galette- Special English Edition02 campaign on Kickstarter until January 31.

Sources: Kickstarter Campaign Page, Galette Works Offical Website

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Jan 1st

~*~

1. New year, new fics ahead, but before that - please rec me ONE fic you read last year ^^

i guess i'll have to change my plan by darjeelinh (E, 42k, WangXian, Modern, Meet-Cute, Falling In Love, Love at First Sight, First Kiss, First Time, Inspired by Before Sunrise (1995) and Before Sunset (2004), soft rom-com vibes, One Night Stands, but not really, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, they both have demi vibes in this fight me about it, Misunderstandings, Separations, Reunions, WangXian canon Elopement™️ shenanigans, now with art)

🔒 A Heart Undying by NonsensicalRambling (M, 114k, WangXian, Undead WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical dead things the burial mounds, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Eventual WangXian, No Yīn Tiger Seal, Morally Gray WWX, Animals Eating People, WWX’s questionable choices, Morally conflicted LWJ, Oblivious WWX, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei, YLLZ WWX, Sect Leader WWX, LWJ & WQ have an Understanding)

Once Patience Bears Fruit by FinallyGotTheInvitation (E, 88k, WIP, WangXian, Immortal LWJ, Immortal LSZ, Mortal WWX, soon to be, Immortal WWX, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Fluff and Smut, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Oblivious WWX, Protective LWJ, Reincarnation, Sex Magic, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, novel canon, "Straight" WWX, Age Difference, switching POV, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Flirting, Power Dynamics, Light Bondage) For #1 & 13 It’s a wonderfully done spin on the Immortal LWJ x Modern Reincarnated WWX trope. And not only do we have the whole family bonding in the mountains we also have all of WWX’s past loved ones reincarnated as well this time all of them live and they’re all pretty tight knit, this WWX definitely has the support system #13 was asking for, but while it is an important plot point, it’s not the main point of the fic.

Turn Left by kianspo (M, 204k, WangXian, NieLan, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Friends to Lovers, eventually, references to child sexual abuse, not main characters, Neurodivergent LWJ, Slow Build, Lán Family Feels, specifically, Twin Jades of Lán Feels, lwj-centric, Twin Jades of Lán Dynamics, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Angst with Happy Ending)

~*~

2. Hii I’m not sure if you guys take crossover requests? If not just ignore this! But for ITMF, I’m looking for fics that have WWX as a supreme ghost king (mdzs x tgcf). Thanks!!

Back From The Dead by Suibian_613 (T, 44k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, HuaLian, XuanXuan, XinQing, Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Supreme Ghost King WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, JZX lives and so does JYL, HX is stupid and in love, SQX is the Wind Master, Badass WWX, Not so oblivious WWX, XY is a Brat, he doesn’t kill anyone important tho, WWX has a ghost city, Let the Yunmeng Bros be Bros, Suggestive Themes, obsessive XY, gender fluid SQX)

The Red Ribbon by sanmaci (M, 22k, WangXian, HuaLian, Canon Divergence, Ghost City, Immortality, Cultivation Partners, Juniors, XL and HC find a child who happens to be WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluffy wangxian, WWX is a Supreme Ghost King, First Time)

and thus the crow flies by cloudyrobinwrites (jwyoomi) (M, 39k, WangXian, MXY & WWX, HuaLian, WIP, Ghost WWX, WWX is a Calamity, Sentient Burial Mounds, The Burial Mounds Wants More Kids, Canon Divergence, what happens when a ghost king gets thrown into a murder mystery, WWX picked up MXY and decided he'll be his student now, MXY managed to summon a calamity level ghost what a guy, WWX disguises himself as a rogue cultivator, WWX's crows have adopted MXy, WWX and MXY make a very good duo actually, WangXian are going on a roadtrip, WWX learns how to do ghost mitosis, local newborn supreme ghost wranglers HuaLian, LWJ is not saying much but trust hes coping as well as he can w all these curveballsm hes just happy that WWX is back)

~*~

3. do you guys know any post-(novel)canon fics that focus on the juniors' relationship with wwx?

bespoke by cafecliche (G, 3k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Fluff, LSZ is a very good boy, which is specifically a tag for the fic but also just true in general)

See Me, Feel Me (Listening to You) by Ghost_Honey (T, 29k, WangXian, POV WWX, WWX Needs a Hug, WWX’s Abyssmal Self-Esteem, Emotional Healing, Angst, The Juniors love their Senior Wei, Curses, WWX is an Unreliable Narrator, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling)

Trust by FlyingMachine1 (G, 8k, WWX & Junior Ensemble, WangXian, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, BAMF WWX, Humor, junior quartet is the wwx fan club)

The following also feature the relationship between Wei Ying & the Juniors but involve time travel

❤️ Tragedy is Not the End by Hobbsy3 (T, 358k, wangxian, Time Travel, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Canon Divergence from Qiongqi Pass, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Yunmeng sibling bonding, good dad wwx, good dad lwj, JZX Lives, JYL Lives, Junior Quartet Dynamics)

And They Lived Happily Ever After… by Morgana_avalon (G, 51k, WangXian, Zhuiling, Time Travel Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon Universe, Canon Related, set before the ambush happens at Qiongqi Path, Canon Divergence, Bunnies, Good brother JC, Good JZX, CQL Verse)

🔒 Forget Myself in Memories by geethr75 (T, 10k, JC & WWX, JC & JL, JL & LJY & LSZ & OYZZ, WangXian, LXC & NMJ, JYL/JZX, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Time Travel Fix-It, Juniors travel to the past, Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, double trouble, Past WWX meets future WWX in MXY's body, Past JC meets future JC, Sect Leader JL, Sect Leader OYZZ, Sect Heir LJY, Fluff and Angst, Mostly Fluff, Happy Ending, JGY dies as Meng Yao, SS and JZn diesn JGS dies, WQ and WN lives, JYL and JZX Lives, no golden core transfer, No golden core melting, The Juniors save the day, WWX saves the day too, Alternate Timelines)

~*~

4. itmf fics where someone kills jgs (and that's a focal point of the fic). thanks! 💙

He Had It Coming by The_Hourglass_Muse (M, 2k, JZX & JGY, JGY & XY, Have to hide a body, Minor Character Death, JGS is dead, Dark Comedy, Revenge, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Warning: XY, Body Horror, Corpse Desecration, Villainous Friends)

Blood is compulsory by april_rainer (tom_bedlam) (T, 3k, LXC & JGY, Major Character Death, JGS is the major character death, no other main characters are harmed, although a lot of background people die, JGY & LXC both have various levels of feelings about killing lots of people, TW:Suicidal Thoughts, (minor but there))

🔒 Ripples in a Pond by Spiraling (Stormwind13) (T, 5k, MS & JGY, MS & Madam Jin, Non-Linear Narrative, Slice of Life, Canon Divergence, Dead JGS)

Cover-Up by nirejseki (Not Rated, 1k, JYL/JZX, Murder, But Justified, JGS dies, does it count as a major character death if no one is upset about it?)

🔒 murder is easy, especially if you're murdering an asshole by ravenditefairylights (Not Rated, 5k, JC & WWX & JYL, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, Murder, Violence, Blood, Sibling Bonding, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Protective Siblings, Derogatory Language, really just jgs being himself)

🔒 The Straightest Path by meyari (T, 30k, WangXian, NieLan, MingLi, ChengSang, war and death, Grief/Mourning, Politics, plotting for neuroatypicals, Autistic LWJ, WWX Has ADHD, Non-Canon Relationship, No Yīn Iron, Sect Leader LWJ) it's not the focus of The Straightest Path but the story goes into details of JGS' death in chapters 9 & 10.

Wandering Eyes (That Nie Mingjue will gouge out if he notices, Father, STOP) by AstaraelWeeps (M, 12k, NHS & JGY, NHS & NMJ, 3Zun, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Murder, JGY has no idea, JGY POV, NHS is a scheming schemer who schemes, and we love him for it, Fix-It)

~*~

5. Helloo, good day to all of you mods!

For the next "In The Mood For", can I trouble you with Uncle WWX.

Like WWX raising Jin Ling instead of Jiang Cheng.

Thankss @lil-dusty-rose

~*~

6. I'm in the mood for- A Chengqing arranged marriage AU with a happy ending? Also, no archive warnings or explicit sex, please? Thanks! @greyjedijaneite

~*~

7. Helloo!! For the next ITMF, im looking for a fic which has a little slowburn and pining (wangxian ofc) and lots of jelly lz!! It would be great if there was some sexual tension too 🤭 BUT PLS NO BOTTOM LZ . The universe doesnt matter it can be modern au or post canon anything is alright. As always thank u in advance!! @for13years-i-play-inquiry-foryou

Wrong Turn, Right Place by diamondbruise (E, 71k, WangXian, Time Travel, kind of, it’s more reality travel but there’s modern wwx and cultivator lwj, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jealousy, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Cultural Differences)

a light hidden and singing by occultings (microcomets) (E, 48k, wangxian, arranged marriage, pining, getting together, slow burn, misunderstandings, miscommunication, blood & injury, happy ending, smut)

Odd Geometry by maziodyne (M, 116k, WangXian, JC/NHS, JYL/JZX, JYL/WQ, WIP, WWX does not grow up in Lotus Pier, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, Elemental Magic, Healer WWX, Sunshot Campaign, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Slow Burn, letter writing romance, flirting at inopportune times, Crows, Familiars, Homoeroticism, epic divorce incoming, triple agent WQ, lockpicking, communication (but does it change anything?))

🔒 The Promises We Make by Mayarenerose (G, 34k, WangXIan, LSZ & LWJ, LXC & LWJ, WN & LWJ, JC & LWJ, Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Fluff, Angst, Everybody Lives, Canon Divergence, Gratuitous Bed Sharing, LWJ: moves into the Burial Mounds, WWX ??? wtf??? are you??? doing??, Rabbits)

~*~

8. any recs for get lost cave scene lwj pov and/or 33 lashes + what happened after he found out about wwx’s death

~*~

9. Hi! For the next ITMF do you have any recs with intense yearning. Specifically where LWJ does the yearning. Longer fics would be great! Thanks!!!

💖 A Crying Shame by thunderwear (G, 16k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, A-yuan to the rescue, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, Domestic Fluff, Love Confessions, First Kiss, LWJ joins WWX at burial mounds, LWJ is soft pass it on, literally all fluff, Marriage Proposal, Oblivious WWX)

It's Only Time by etymologyplayground (T, 8k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, Epistolary, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, It's About The Yearning, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Humor)

Inquiry by incendir (G, 10k, WangXian, LSZ & LWJ)

🔒 so take my hand (take my whole life too) by cicer (E, 92k, WangXian, Modern AU, Accidental Baby Acquisition, oh my god they were roommates, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, this fic is not about trauma, it’s about the yearning, slowburn)

爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie (E, 68k, WangXian, Case Fic, Blood and Injury, Demons, Body Horror, [Podfic] 爱不释手; never let me go by argentumlupine)

~*~

10. Hello!

Could you please for itmf:

Modern aus where both wwx and lwj are older than ~35

Mlm

Thank you!

~*~

11. Okay I just finished reading Prenups and Pelicans byElpie (Horribibble)

And I want more of this is if there any other fic

That is kind of similar to this and has the reactions of all the guests because I want to read the reactions of the Jin and madam yu @constancebloodstone

~*~

12. Do we have any " the help" fusion of wangxian where wwx is miss Celia and anyone else is minnie Jackson? Or something similar to it? Uk where the dynamics btwn wangxian is like the dynamics miss Celia amd her husband have? @jaywuji

~*~

13. hi this is ITMF! im thinking a fic very much so wwx centric. preferably in that he has a strong support system and people who obviously care abt him. hurt/comfort or angst welcome. if there's a focus on wwx being attractive, in looks or in personality that's cool too! tysm for all the hard work and happy new year :)

In Exchange by FlautistsandPeonies (M, 8k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Implied WangXian Ending, The Power of Yiling Laozu Sexy, WWX Canon Memory Loss, WWX gets his original body back, Crack Treated Seriously, not for jc fans, Attractive WWX, WangXian Get a Happy Ending)

the stone-filled sea by yukla (T, 9k, LSZ & WWX, LSZ & LWJ, WangXian, Post-Canon, senior wei defense squad, a study of the way prejudice and injustice and anger trickle down from generation to generation, [Podfic] the stone-filled sea by yukla by Beria1021, the stone-filled sea [Podfic] by BrickGrass)

🔒 Bright Voice Roughly Rendered Softly Silent by Preludian_Staves (T, 26k, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, No Golden Core Transfer, Muteness, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Not JC Friendly, Confessions, Angst, Choking, Red String of Fate, Appearances by Paperman!WWX, Inventor WWX, Good Uncle LQR, WWX goes to Cloud Recesses, Feelings Realization, Caretaking, Supportive Lan Family, Genius WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Protective LWJ, Protective Lan Family, Character Death (not wwx or lwj))

Meet you at a different place by tawaen (M, 57k, WQ & WN, WN & MXY & WQ, WQ & WWX & WN, Eventual WangXian, Ghost General WN, Ghost WQ, Canon Divergence, WQ comes back to haunt the cultivation world, Bad idea to kill the one person who didn’t kill anyone, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Wen Remnants Deserve Better, Sīsī Deserves Better, MXY Deserves Better, POV WQ)

🔒 between the shadow and the soul by Reverie (cl410) (M, 22k, WangXian, JYL/WQ, JC/NHS, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family, Dark WWX, Feral WWX, Memory Loss, Magic, Magical Realism, Protective LWJ, Protective JC, Protective JYL, Grief, BAMF WWX, POV Alternating)

Once Patience Bears Fruit by FinallyGotTheInvitation (E, 88k, WIP, WangXian, Immortal LWJ, Immortal LSZ, Mortal WWX, soon to be, Immortal WWX, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Fluff and Smut, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Oblivious WWX, Protective LWJ, Reincarnation, Sex Magic, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, novel canon, "Straight" WWX, Age Difference, switching POV, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Flirting, Power Dynamics, Light Bondage) (link in #1) For #1 & 13 It’s a wonderfully done spin on the Immortal LWJ x Modern Reincarnated WWX trope. And not only do we have the whole family bonding in the mountains we also have all of WWX’s past loved ones reincarnated as well this time all of them live and they’re all pretty tight knit, this WWX definitely has the support system #13 was asking for, but while it is an important plot point, it’s not the main point of the fic.

The most dangerous thing is to love by KatAnni (E, 113k, WangXian, Golden Core Reveal, Fix-It, Everybody Lives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Hurt!WWX, Found Family, Implied/Referenced Torture, POV Multiple, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, Panic Attacks, PTSD, Golden Core Transfer, Golden Core Transfer Fix-it, Medical Procedures, Fainting, Major Character Injury, Blood and Injury, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Asexual JC, homophobia doesn’t exist here, Marriage Proposal, Marriage, Wedding Night, Whump) This fic is in the Sunshot campaign era, and as such WWX is obviously *going through it*, and he tried to do it with just as much secrecy as cannon. Too bad for him the author had something to say about that and he got found out basically instantly, which causes his support network to start actually supporting him… but the angry grape is still there so it’s done with a lot of caring anger.

~*~

14. Fics about Yiling Wei Sect!! Butttt!! It was already established long ago and wwx was not the one to establish it.

~*~

15. Hello Happy new year Everyone I am currently in the mood for some Switch/Versatile SangYao fics. @thatperson0-0

~*~

16. For the next ITMF, does anyone know of any fics where someone tries to assassinate WWX before he defects from the Jiang clan? (Either during the sunshot campaign or shortly after) thank you in advance ✨️

~*~

17. hi! any fics were lan zhan's rich and pays for anything wei ying needs, buys him lots of stuff, and just spends a lot of money on him? could be a sugar daddy au or just a relationship with this dynamic @ashxi-wx

The Misunderstanding by kisahawklin (T, 9k, WangXian, Modern AU, Misunderstandings, POV Outsider)

For Safekeeping Purposes by ChilianXianzi (M, 2k, WangXian, Modern AU, Gangsters, Crime Boss LWJ, Sugar Daddy LWJ, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, Domestic fluff but everyone’s in a crime syndicate, Found Family, Age Difference, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Canon-typical Abusive Jiangs)

🧡 All Old Things are New Again by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (M, 51k, WangXian, Reincarnation, Modern AU, canon still happened, extreme post canon, Sugar Daddy, Kink Negotiation, gentle dom!LWJ, canonical levels of consent play, Modern Cultivators, cultivators can recognize important people from previous lives, vaguely, this started out as a cute sugar fantasy and got just incredibly horny very fast, blame LWJ)

🔒 Snow by kuro (M, 38k, WangXian, Modern, Snow, Sick Character, Caretaking, Fluff, Sugar Daddy, only they're like… bad at it, Angst, Rabbits, Food, Sexy Times, occasionally)

golden when the day met the night by glitteringmoonlight (Not Rated, 95k, WangXian, Slow-ish burn, Sugar Daddy LWJ, Light Angst, Fluff, Developing Relationship, WWX gets all the appreciation he deserves, even if he's a bit confused about it at first, warprize au with a twist, in that everyone thinks WWX is a warprize, but LWJ has only platonic and honourable intentions, at first 😏, Eventual Smut, WIP)

my rivers tilt towards you by perfectlyrose (T, 26k, WangXian, Canon, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Fairy Tale Elements, dragonji, mentions of, Madam Yu's A+ Parenting, First Meetings, Romance, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[estellan0vella]

Exactly As It Should Be: L.M & H.J Lee Minho x fem!reader x Han Jisung (College AU)

WC: 19.5K

CW: pre-established relationship between Minho and Jisung, implied sex, mxm smut scenes (oral), simp Minsung, pining Minsung, protective Minsung, discussions of polyamory, mxf dry humping (reader and jisung are under the influence), masturbation, stalking, blackmail, upskirt picture (not taken by Minsung), fighting, violence, blood, discussion of drug use, alcohol consumption, Minsung are horny all the time

(first ever time writing any kind of smut and publishing it)

General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist

The music from the main floor of the Alpha Phi frat house is fucking deafening. Bass reverberates through the walls, a constant, pounding reminder of the rager that has the house packed with sweaty, drunk partygoers. You push your way through the crowd, clutching your little crossbody bag tightly to your side. The smell of spilt beer and something vaguely fruity clings to the air, and you grimace. You’re already tipsy, your ill-advised pregame to survive tonight’s disastrous date, but you’re determined to find solace.

You make your way to the entertainment room. Unlike the chaos outside, it’s a haven for the members of Alpha Phi and their closest friends. The door is heavy, solid wood, and you knock three times in a rhythmic pattern Jeongin taught you before pushing it open. Inside, the atmosphere is calmer, the chaos muffled by thick walls and a closed door.

Chan looks up from his spot on the couch and grins. “There she is!”

The group perks up at your arrival. Felix pats the spot next to him, his golden blonde hair glowing under the warm lighting, and Hyunjin scoots over to make room for you on the other side. “C’mere, baby,” Felix coos, using the nickname you’ve earned thanks to your love for Dirty Dancing. “You look fucking freezing in that skirt.”

You plop down between him and Hyunjin, ignoring his comment but grateful for the warm presence on either side of you. “Hey, guys,” you say, trying not to slur.

Jeongin is already on his feet, grabbing a glass. “Vodka orange?”

“You know me so well, Innie.” You grin as he hands it over, his black hair flopping into his eyes. He sits back on the armrest of the couch, looking you over with a concerned frown.

“How was the date?” Chan asks, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

You groan and take a large gulp of your drink. “Oh, that, uh… That was less than great.”

Jeongin raises an eyebrow. “Need me to beat him up, or is it a ‘sic the whole frat on him’ kind of bad?”

Hyunjin snickers, leaning his chin on his hand. “Yeah, spill, Y/N. What happened?”

You sigh, placing the glass on the low coffee table in front of you. “Okay, so, he made a lot of comments about how nice my skin was.”

“Like, ‘Oh, I’m a dermatology student,’ or ‘I’m Ed fucking Gein’ kind of way?” Changbin cuts in, leaning back in his chair. His arms are crossed, and his black shirt stretches over his broad shoulders.

“The latter,” you say, cringing. “But, other than that, he was really nice.”

Seungmin snorts from the corner where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. “You have the worst fucking taste in men.”

“My poor baby.” Felix pulls you into a cuddle, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. His cologne is comforting, and you snuggle into his side as he pets your head. “I swear, only creeps date you.”

“That’s because she’s too nice to tell them they’re creeps,” Seungmin mutters.

You whine, nudging him with the heel of your boot. “Shut up, Seungmin.”

The door creaks open, and you glance over to see Minho and Jisung lounging on a large beanbag. Jisung is sprawled across Minho’s lap, both of them sipping on identical glasses of whiskey. You don’t notice the way their eyes linger on you. On your black and green tartan skirt, your thigh-high boots, or the green ribbon in your hair. They exchange a glance but stay silent as the conversation carries on.

“Oh, Minho, you got rid of the cherry red!” you exclaim, noting his newly purple hair.

Minho smirks. “Jisung and I made a bet. I lost. Now it’s purple.”

“I love it,” Jisung chimes in, his silver hair falling into his eyes as he leans back against Minho’s chest.

You hum in response, turning back to the others. “It suits you.”

Felix runs his fingers through your hair, still playing with the green ribbon. “So, baby, why do you keep giving these losers a chance?”

“Because I’m trying to stay optimistic?” you reply, batting your lashes at him.

“That’s bullshit,” Hyunjin says, his sharp grin softening the harshness of his words. “You could have anyone. Why settle for fucking creeps?”

“Maybe because I’m not as picky as you guys,” you shoot back, a teasing smile on your lips.

The group erupts into laughter, but Minho and Jisung stay quiet, their focus never leaving you. If you noticed, you’d see the faint flush creeping up Jisung’s neck or the way Minho’s fingers twitch slightly, itching to reach out. But you don’t, caught up in the comfort of your friends and the growing buzz of your drink.

Hyunjin grabs your phone from the table, his perfectly manicured fingers swiping across the screen as he smirks. “Alright, let’s see who the fuck you’ve got lined up, baby.”

You groan but don’t fight him. Felix leans closer, peeking over Hyunjin’s shoulder, his golden hair brushing against your face. “Swipe right on the cute ones. None of those creepy accountant types.”

Hyunjin hums thoughtfully. “Wait-” He freezes, looking at the screen. “You’ve got women on here?”

Felix looks intrigued. “Women?”

Before you can answer, Jeongin leans back in his seat, smirking. “Believe me, she’s dated just as many creepy women as she’s dated creepy men.”

“And creepy couples,” he adds, earning a dramatic gasp from Felix.

“Couples?” Felix asks, staring at you as if you’ve suddenly sprouted a second head.

You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “I’m not picky.”

“Obviously,” Seungmin mutters dryly from the floor. You retaliate by kicking him lightly in the thigh, sticking your tongue out at him.

“Hey, they weren’t all bad,” you say, taking your phone back from Hyunjin for a second to scroll. “I mean, one couple was super nice. They just, uh…” You trail off, cheeks heating slightly.

“They stole so much of her fucking underwear,” Jeongin blurts out, grinning wickedly.

“They didn’t steal my branded ones,” you reply, deadpan, taking a sip of your drink. “So, it’s fine.”

The room dissolves into a mix of laughter and groans.

“What the fuck,” Changbin mutters, shaking his head. “How do you end up in these situations?”

“I’m curious about the logistics,” Seungmin adds, tapping his chin. “Like, were they doing recon during dinner?”

“Shut up!” you whine, throwing a cushion at him.

Hyunjin grabs the phone again and suddenly gasps, clutching your arm. “Ooh! A match!”

Felix leans in so close his nose nearly touches the screen. “Oh, they’re hot!”

You grin, a mix of excitement and apprehension bubbling up. “Okay, okay, let’s see what they say.”

Across the room, Jisung nudges Minho, who’s been quiet, watching the whole scene unfold. Minho leans back, resting his head against the beanbag with a smirk. Jisung turns his head slightly, lowering his voice. “If she’s into couples, we might have an in.”

Minho’s lips curve into a lazy smile as he presses a kiss to Jisung’s cheek. “We’re not creeps, so we’re already golden. Just play it cool.”

“Like you’re playing it cool right now?” Jisung teases, earning a light shove.

Hyunjin, Felix, and you let out a synchronized shriek, jolting everyone else in the room. You clutch Felix’s arm as Hyunjin clutches yours, all three of you staring at the screen in horror.

“What the fuck did they send?” Felix asks, barely containing his laughter.

Hyunjin giggles so hard he has to hold his stomach. “It’s- it’s so much worse than I thought!”

Chan raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Alright, move over.” He leans in and peers at your phone. A beat passes before he tilts his head, squinting. “Oh, wow.”

Changbin, unable to resist, gets up to look. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, his expression somewhere between impressed and horrified.

“It’s like Aslan’s tail,” Chan says, his tone completely serious. 

Seungmin, sitting on the floor, perks up. “What the hell are you guys looking at?” He crawls over, peeking over the couch, followed by Jeongin.

“Holy shit!” Jeongin barks out a laugh, covering his face. “Why does it curve like that?”

Felix, Hyunjin, and you are still clinging to each other, gasping for air between fits of laughter.

“It’s got a personality,” Felix wheezes, wiping at his eyes. “Like, it could be a main character.”

Seungmin scoffs. “Main character? That’s the fucking villain.”

Hyunjin waves a hand at him. “Shut up. That’s at least an anti-hero.”

“Oh, my God,” you gasp, trying to reclaim your phone, but Felix holds it away.

“Minho, Jisung,” Felix calls out, waving the phone. “Come see this.”

The two on the beanbag finally break their whispered conversation, leaning forward to look. Jisung’s jaw drops first. “No fucking way.”

Minho narrows his eyes, studying the screen. “Is it… braided at the base?”

The room explodes with laughter again.

“It’s got layers,” Hyunjin howls, collapsing onto Felix’s lap.

Jeongin snorts. “I don’t think I’ll ever recover.”

You bury your face in your hands, your laughter muffled as Felix pats your head. “I think it’s safe to say this one’s a no.”

“Hard fucking no,” Changbin agrees, shaking his head as he returns to his seat.

Jeongin stretches dramatically, brushing the laughter from his eyes. “Alright, enough about dick pics. Let’s fucking dance! C’mon!” He’s already up, tugging at Felix’s hand.

Felix looks to you, eyes glittering. “You in, baby?”

You down the rest of your vodka orange, setting the glass on the table with a loud clink. “Fuck yes.”

The three of you head out into the living room, where the music is even louder. The bass of Government Hooker pounds through the speakers, vibrating through the floor and into your bones. The room is packed, bodies moving together in a sweaty, chaotic rhythm. The heat is suffocating, but the energy is electric.

Felix grabs your hand, twirling you like you’re the lead in some impromptu ballroom routine. “Work it, baby!” he shouts over the music, his golden hair sticking to his forehead as he grins.

You laugh, letting him spin you before pressing your back against Jeongin, who’s already swaying with the beat. Jeongin wraps an arm around your waist, steadying you as you move together. Felix starts voguing dramatically, throwing in exaggerated poses that make you and Jeongin double over laughing.

Mid-spin, Felix leans in close, his voice teasing. “Two o’clock, hot girl eyeing you up.”

You glance discreetly and immediately recognize her. “That’s Ryujin,” you yell back, barely containing your grin. “Kappa Tau’s finest. Regular of mine.”

Felix’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, it’s like that, huh?”

You shrug nonchalantly, adjusting the green ribbon in your hair. “I’ll see you in two hours after I let her desecrate the spare room upstairs.”

Felix snorts, his laughter following you as you weave through the crowd. Ryujin watches you approach, her head tilted in amusement, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her blue-black hair shines under the dim lighting, her sharp features accentuated by her cocky confidence.

“Ryujin,” you say, stopping in front of her, your voice light and playful.

“Y/N,” she replies smoothly, leaning in close. Her fingers trail up your arm before twirling a strand of your hair around one finger. “Looking like a fucking snack tonight.”

You look up at her through your lashes, your lips quirking. “There’s a room upstairs.”

Ryujin chuckles, her smirk widening as she leans in, her breath hot against your ear. “Oh, cupcake, I’m going to ruin you.”

“Promises, promises, Ryu.”

Her eyes darken, and she takes your hand without another word, leading you toward the stairs. Felix and Jeongin watch from the dance floor, both grinning as they see Ryujin’s confident swagger.

“She’s gone,” Jeongin observes, sipping from a beer he snagged from a passing tray.

Felix giggles, leaning against him. “She always crashes here, but I hope her lady friend knows I don’t make breakfast for my friends’ hookups.”

Jeongin laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t know how she fucking does it.”

Felix sighs dramatically, watching you disappear up the staircase. “It’s the doe eyes. She lures them in like a Disney princess.”

Jeongin smirks. “But sluttier.”

“And we love her for it,” Felix finishes, raising his beer in a mock toast.

Chan approaches, a curious look on his face. “Where’s Y/N gone?”

Jeongin points toward the stairs. “Upstairs. She’s with the dommiest mommy I’ve ever fucking seen.”

Felix leans against Chan, grinning like an idiot. “She’s going to come back a reformed woman, dommed into submission. Mark my fucking words.”

Jisung bounces over, dragging Minho behind him. “Who’s getting dommed?” he asks, his silver hair already a sweaty mess from dancing.

Chan jerks a thumb toward the staircase. “Y/N. By a dommy mommy, apparently.”

Jisung’s head whips toward the stairs, and his face immediately falls when he spots you disappearing with Ryujin. Minho stiffens beside him, his jaw tightening.

Jisung leans closer to Minho, whispering, “She really does get all the fucking attention, huh?”

Minho’s lips press into a thin line before he forces a smirk. “It’s Ryujin,” he mutters, but there’s a distinct edge of jealousy in his tone. “What did you expect? The girl has game.”

“She’s got more than fucking game,” Jisung replies, watching you vanish from sight. “She’s got her.”

They share a glance, both trying and failing to disguise the frustration simmering beneath their carefully crafted facades.

Felix notices their looks and nudges Jeongin. “What’s their problem?”

Jeongin shrugs, still grinning. “Probably just jealous they’re not getting dommed by Ryujin.”

Felix cackles, but Jisung and Minho remain silent, their eyes glued to the now-empty staircase.

The library is eerily quiet, as it always is on weekday afternoons. Jisung pushes through the heavy glass doors, his bag slung lazily over one shoulder, a list of books for his criminal psychology course clutched in one hand. He hates how the place smells, like old paper and dust, but he trudges in anyway, scanning the aisles for the section he needs.

As he rounds a corner toward the back of the library, he freezes. There, tucked away at a small table by the window, is you. At first, he’s caught by the sight of you: your sharp eyeliner that practically screams I know I’m hot, your red lipstick, and the flawless way your grey coat drapes over your shoulders. But then he notices the slight tremble in your hand as you hastily swipe at your eyes.

You’re crying.

Jisung frowns, his usual easy-going demeanour slipping for a moment. He watches as you hurriedly stuff a piece of paper into your coat pocket when you sense someone approaching.

“Oh, hey, Jisung.” Your voice is bright, forced, but your sniffle gives you away.

He drops his book list on the table and pulls a travel-sized pack of tissues from his bag, sliding them across to you without a word. You stare at it for a moment before taking one, dabbing at your eyes carefully.

“Is your eyeliner waterproof?” he asks, tilting his head, his voice soft but teasing. “Because it hasn’t smudged. Not even a little.”

You giggle weakly, and the sound tugs at his chest. “Yeah, it’s waterproof. Rain-proof, apocalypse-proof, probably space-proof at this point.” You gesture at your face with the tissue. “If this doesn’t scream ‘prepared,’ I don’t know what does.”

Jisung smiles, sitting down across from you without asking. He doesn’t mention the paper or your puffy eyes. Instead, he leans back in his chair, folding his arms. “So, I had no idea you were secretly a Terminator with indestructible makeup.”

“That’s me,” you reply, your voice a bit steadier now. “Just call me Y/N Schwarzenegger.”

He snorts, propping his chin on his hand. “You’re such a dork.”

For a moment, the tension in your shoulders seems to ease. You lean back in your chair, crumpling the tissue in your hand. Jisung doesn’t press you for answers. He knows better than to pry when you’re clearly trying to keep it together. Instead, he launches into random topics, filling the silence with his signature chaotic energy.

“So,” he starts, “did I ever tell you about the time the whole frat decided to get high on molly just for shits and giggles?”

You raise an eyebrow, the corners of your lips twitching upward. “No, but I feel like I need to hear this.”

He grins, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Okay, so picture this: everyone’s fucking gone, like, way too gone. I’m talking Changbin trying to have a deep conversation with the coffee table level gone.”

You burst out laughing, and Jisung’s grin widens. “Then Minho and Chan, don’t ask me why, decide it’s a great idea to strip naked and strut around the house like they’re walking a goddamn runway.”

“Oh my God,” you gasp, laughing so hard you have to cover your mouth. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Jisung chuckles, shaking his head. “And Minho, my boyfriend, mind you, starts fucking helicoptering in the middle of the living room.”

Your laughter bubbles up again, your shoulders shaking. “Helicoptering? Like, with his-?”

“Oh, yeah. Full fucking display. Meanwhile, I’m on the couch, so high I swear I was tasting colours, just watching him spin around like it’s a goddamn art performance.”

“What were the rest of you doing while all of this was happening?” you ask, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes.

“I was cuddling Felix and Jeongin,” he says, his grin turning soft. “Felix was curled up in my lap like a fucking cat, all snuggly and cute, and Jeongin was spooning both of us like we were his personal stuffed animals. Hyunjin was trying to draw some random shit and Seungmin was doing fuck knows what”

You’re laughing so hard now that the librarian at the front desk peers over, shushing you with an exaggerated glare. You press a hand to your mouth, trying to stifle your giggles, but Jisung’s grin is triumphant.

He doesn’t say it out loud, but seeing you laugh like this, your eyes bright, your smile genuine, makes him want to keep talking forever. He doesn’t need to know what made you cry. Not yet. For now, he’s content just being the one to make you laugh.

The soft glow of Minho’s bedside lamp casts a warm light over his bedroom, the sheets tangled around the two of them as they lie in the aftermath of their passion. Jisung is still catching his breath, his chest rising and falling against the pillow. Minho leans over, pressing soft kisses down the length of Jisung’s spine, his lips warm and gentle against sweat-slicked skin.

“You’re distracted,” Minho murmurs, his voice low and teasing as he lies down beside Jisung, pulling him into his arms. The sheets are cool, their bodies warm, and Jisung burrows closer against Minho’s chest.

“I’m not-” Jisung starts, but Minho cuts him off.

“Bullshit.” Minho brushes his fingers through Jisung’s damp hair, his tone playful but laced with concern. “You were distracted even when your dick was in my mouth, which, honestly, is fucking insulting because my blowjobs are top-tier.”

Jisung snorts, hiding his face in Minho’s chest. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“No, I’m serious,” Minho continues, pressing a kiss to Jisung’s temple. “And then you were distracted when I was fucking you with everything I have, which is even worse. My hips? Shakira level fluid, jagi. What’s up?”

Jisung groans, rubbing at his face before meeting Minho’s eyes. “I’m sorry. You know I’m usually way more focused during… that particular activity.”

Minho hums, waiting for him to go on.

“I saw Y/N earlier at the library,” Jisung admits, his voice quieter now. “She was crying.”

Minho’s brows knit together. “Crying?”

“Yeah,” Jisung says, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. “She still looked beautiful, of course, like, who the fuck cries and still looks like a goddess? But yeah, she was crying. And she stuffed this piece of paper into her coat like she didn’t want anyone to see it.”

Minho doesn’t say anything for a moment, his fingers tracing absent patterns on Jisung’s shoulder. “We’ll keep an eye on her,” he says finally, his voice steady and reassuring. “If something’s wrong, she’ll tell us when she’s ready.”

Jisung exhales, nodding. “Yeah. I just hate seeing her like that, you know? She’s always so happy. Or, at least, she pretends to be.”

Minho presses a kiss to Jisung’s forehead. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t stress too much, jagi.”

Jisung shifts again, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “Can we go for a shower now? My ass is full of your cum, and I want to wash up.”

Minho chuckles, tightening his hold on him. “Just stay here a little longer.”

“Or,” Jisung counters, his grin turning wicked, “we could have round three in the shower.”

Minho’s lips quirk into a smirk. “Tempting.”

“I’ll even let you pretend I’m her,” Jisung teases, his voice dripping with mischief.

Minho’s eyes darken, his smirk growing. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

Jisung laughs, rolling out of bed and dragging Minho with him. The two stumble toward the bathroom, their laughter echoing through the room as the door shuts behind them.

The night air is cold, crisp against Minho’s flushed skin as he walks back to the frat house, his bag slung across one shoulder. His head is buzzing with formulas and terms from his veterinary science assignment, and all he can think about is collapsing into bed. The campus is eerily quiet, the silence broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant hum of a car.

The click of heels behind him draws his attention. Minho slows his pace, glancing over his shoulder just as you appear under the glow of a nearby streetlamp. Your black leather trousers gleam faintly in the light, your boots adding an extra edge to your look. Your hair is pulled back in a sleek ponytail, with a few strands framing your face. Despite your flawless makeup and sharp outfit, there’s tension in your posture as you glance over your shoulder again, clutching your black handbag a little tighter.

When your eyes meet his, they soften with recognition, and relief washes over your features. You quicken your pace, linking your arm with his the moment you reach him. “Walk. Quickly, please.”

Minho nods without question, his body automatically adjusting to match your stride. “What’s going on?”

You glance behind you one last time before focusing on him. “I thought someone was following me. I’m not sure, but I saw you, and, sorry for grabbing you like that.”

“Don’t apologize,” Minho says firmly, his tone laced with a protective edge. “You heading to the frat?”

You nod, your arm still looped through his. “Yeah. I’m set to get stoned with Lix, Hyun, Chan, and Innie. Something about the best weed brownies ever, the kind that’ll make me see Jesus.”

Minho chuckles, the tension easing just a little. “You’ll have to let me know if you see the pearly white gates.”

You grin despite the lingering anxiety in your eyes. “I’ll say hello to the big man for you.”

Minho smirks. “Appreciate it. We’ll walk to the frat together then. What are you doing out so late, anyway?”

You sigh, your grip on his arm loosening slightly as you relax into his presence. “I was in the fashion department, working on my showcase pieces. The theme is nature, so I decided to use Monet’s Water Lily painting as my inspiration.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Sounds fancy.”

“It was a mistake,” you admit, shaking your head. “It’s taking up all my time, and now I’m behind on my consumer psych work. I’m basically drowning.”

“Sounds like you need a fucking break,” Minho says, his tone light but his concern evident.

“Tell that to my professor,” you mutter, your smile wry.

Minho stops walking for a moment, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Pass me your phone.”

You blink at him, confused, but comply, fishing your phone out of your bag and handing it over. Minho takes it, quickly adding a new contact before handing it back. “There. That’s mine and Jisung’s numbers. We have the most fucked up sleep schedules you could imagine, so if you’re ever out late again, let one of us know, and we’ll come meet you.”

“Minho-”

“No arguments,” he interrupts, his tone leaving no room for debate. “You shouldn’t walk across campus alone at night.”

You bite your lip, then nod. “Okay. Thanks.”

The two of you resume walking, the frat house’s glowing windows finally coming into view. You glance up at him, a thought clearly forming in your mind. “Hey, you box, right?”

Minho nods. “Yeah.”

“Any chance I could get some self-defence lessons?” you ask, your voice hopeful. “I don’t want to learn how to box, just how to defend myself. You know, in case someone actually does follow me.”

Minho’s lips quirk into a small smile. “Yeah, sure. I go to the gym Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. Pick a day that works for you.”

“Saturday,” you say immediately. “No way I’m working out on a weekday.”

He chuckles. “Fair enough. We’ll start this weekend.”

As you reach the frat house, the tension from earlier is all but gone, replaced by the easy comfort of his presence. Minho watches as you step inside, greeted by the sound of laughter and the faint smell of brownies wafting through the air. He lingers by the door for a moment, his eyes softening as he watches you disappear into the living room.

“Saturday,” he mutters to himself, a faint smile tugging at his lips before he follows you inside.

Minho pushes open the door to his room, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. Inside, Jisung is sprawled across the bed, clad in nothing but a pair of boxers with a ridiculous pattern of tiny ducks. Minho stops in the doorway, raising an eyebrow as he notices Jisung fully engrossed in Roblox Dress To Impress on Minho’s laptop.

“Really?” Minho asks, letting the door shut behind him. He peels off his long-sleeved t-shirt, revealing the defined lines of his chest and shoulders. His cargos follow, leaving him in just his boxers for a moment before he tugs on a pair of sweatpants.

Jisung’s eyes flicker up from the screen, his lips parting as he watches Minho’s movements. He licks his lips, unabashedly staring. “What? It’s a good game,” he says, his voice slightly hoarse.

Minho smirks, climbing onto the bed and leaning against the headboard. “You have your own room, jagi.”

Jisung doesn’t look away from the laptop, his fingers moving deftly on the keyboard as he accessorizes his character. “Yes, but it’s a mess, and why should I clean it when I have my gorgeous, sexy boyfriend’s bed across the hall?”

Minho shakes his head, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “I walked here with Y/N.”

“Oh yeah?” Jisung’s tone is casual, but there’s a flicker of interest in his eyes as he glances up briefly.

“She was freaked out,” Minho continues. “Thought someone was following her. I’m teaching her self-defence once a week, she asked.”

Jisung finally pauses the game, looking at Minho properly. “Did you see anyone?”

Minho shakes his head. “No. But even if it was just a cat making noise, it shook her up. Walking home at night is a completely different thing for women, you know?”

Jisung hums thoughtfully, his fingers back on the keyboard as he adjusts his character’s pose. “You think she has someone specific in mind?”

“Maybe,” Minho replies, his tone serious. “She didn’t say, but I got the sense she wasn’t just spooked by random noises. It felt targeted.”

Jisung nods slowly, the wheels in his head turning. He presses a key on the laptop, making his virtual character strike a flawless pose in an outfit that looks straight out of Vogue. “First place, motherfuckers!” he announces triumphantly.

Minho laughs softly, shaking his head. “You really take this game seriously, huh?”

“Damn right, I do,” Jisung says, grinning. “You think I’m gonna let some twelve-year-old out-style me? Hell no. My outfits slay every single time.”

Minho rolls his eyes fondly, nudging Jisung’s thigh with his foot. “Anyway, she seemed shaken up, so I’m glad I ran into her.”

Jisung tilts his head thoughtfully. “I’m coming with you to the gym on the days you teach her self-defence, by the way.”

Minho raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

Jisung smirks, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “To hold the boxing pads. Or the water. Or something. Also, I want to see her in workout clothes.”

Minho groans, covering his face with his hand. “You’re ridiculous.”

Jisung closes the laptop, setting it aside before turning fully toward Minho. “We need to talk about her.”

Minho stiffens slightly, but Jisung continues. “I took a BuzzFeed quiz on it. Having a partner but also having feelings for someone else. You know what it suggested?”

Minho’s lips twitch, already anticipating something absurd. “Let me guess. Polyamory?”

“Exactly,” Jisung says, nodding earnestly. “And don’t laugh, okay? BuzzFeed told me I’m a Hufflepuff, told me I was bi, and that the celebrity I share a personality with is Cher. It’s my gospel.”

Minho can’t hold back his laughter this time. “You seriously take BuzzFeed quizzes as life advice?”

“Yes,” Jisung replies, entirely unbothered. “They’ve never been wrong.”

Minho shakes his head, the laughter still in his voice. “You’re unbelievable.”

Jisung grins up at him. “And you love it.” He sits up slightly, his fingers already toying with the waistband of Minho’s sweatpants. “Now drop your pants and let me suck your dick.”

Minho snorts, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re so fucking shameless.”

“Uh-huh,” Jisung replies, tugging at Minho’s sweatpants until Minho shifts, lifting his hips slightly to help. “Now lean back and let me do what I do best.”

Minho sighs dramatically, leaning back against the headboard as Jisung settles between his legs. Jisung starts slow, kissing a trail along the sensitive skin of Minho’s inner thigh, teasing him just enough to draw a soft groan from his lips. His hands are steady, warm, as they glide along Minho’s skin.

“What are you thinking about?” Jisung asks, his voice low and teasing as he presses another kiss on Minho's thigh. “Me? Her? Me and her together?”

Minho groans, his hand sliding into Jisung’s hair. “You’re impossible.”

“Oh, you have,” Jisung continues, his lips curling into a wicked smile as he kisses his way up Minho’s dick. “Naughty, naughty Minho. Tell me about it.”

Minho’s head tilts back against the headboard, a flush creeping up his neck. “Jisung-”

“Are you the one in control?” Jisung interrupts, licking a stripe up Minho’s dick that makes him shiver. “Or are we both in control with her? Tell me, Min.”

Minho groans again, his hips shifting slightly as Jisung’s tongue flicks over the tip. “Both,” he finally admits, his voice low and strained. “I thought about both of us.”

Jisung hums in satisfaction, his hand stroking Minho slowly as he looks up at him through his lashes. “Mmm, tell me more.”

Minho swallows hard, his fingers tightening in Jisung’s hair. “I thought about her between us,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “About both of us taking care of her.”

Jisung’s grin widens, his tongue swirling teasingly. “Taking care of her how?”

“Jisung-” Minho’s voice is a warning, but Jisung only doubles down, his movements purposeful and unrelenting.

“Come on, Min,” Jisung coaxes, his breath hot against Minho’s skin. “Tell me. Are we gentle? Or do we ruin her together?”

Minho lets out a low whine, his control slipping. “Both. Fucking both.”

Jisung’s laughter is sinful as he leans forward, taking Minho fully into his mouth. He doesn’t let up, his lips and tongue working with practised precision as Minho’s breaths grow heavier. When Minho finally comes undone, his groan is deep, guttural, his body trembling beneath Jisung’s touch.

Jisung pulls back with a satisfied hum, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re a mess, Min.”

“And whose fucking fault is that?” Minho retorts, his chest still heaving.

Jisung crawls up beside him, curling into his side with a self-satisfied smirk. “You’re welcome.”

Minho shakes his head, his hand resting on Jisung’s back. “You’re going to be the death of me, jagi.”

“Worth it,” Jisung murmurs, his voice softening as he presses a kiss to Minho’s shoulder.

Jisung walks hand in hand with Minho, their fingers loosely intertwined as they stroll across campus. The morning breeze tousles their already messy hair, remnants of a quick and filthy session in the toilets. Jisung grins up at Minho, his cheeks still slightly flushed, and Minho smirks back, tugging him closer as they weave through the clusters of students.

“You’re disgusting,” Jisung mutters, his grin betraying his words.

“Disgustingly in love with you,” Minho retorts smoothly, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Jisung’s temple.

Their playful banter comes to an abrupt halt when they hear a raised male voice echoing from a stairwell. Minho and Jisung share a glance, their curiosity piqued. Gossip is a shared hobby, and neither of them can resist a good dose of campus drama. They poke their heads into the stairwell, and what they see instantly wipes the humour from their faces.

You’re standing near the edge of the stairs, clutching the railing so tightly your knuckles are white. Your black cigarette trousers and white sleeveless turtleneck are pristine, your makeup flawless, but there’s fear flickering in your eyes as a man they recognize from Theta Tau looms over you. His sneer is menacing, his body language aggressive as he steps closer, forcing you back, closer to the edge.

Minho’s jaw tightens as he watches you stumble slightly, your heel slipping at the very edge of the flight of stairs. You grab the railing tighter, trying to maintain your balance.

The Theta Tau guy smirks, taking another threatening step forward.

Minho’s voice cuts through the tension like a whip. “Oi! You’ve got two seconds to back off before I throw you down those fucking stairs.”

Jisung steps up beside Minho, his grin sharp and dangerous. “Or don’t. I’d love to watch you break a few bones on the way down.”

The man’s smirk falters as he glances over at the two of them. Minho’s gaze is cold and unyielding, and Jisung’s expression is downright feral. But instead of stepping away, the guy leans in close to you, whispering something in your ear. Minho and Jisung can’t make out the words, but whatever he says makes your eyes flicker up to him with a mix of defiance and something else. Something wary.

The Theta Tau guy smirks again, straightening up before walking down the stairs, brushing past Minho and Jisung without a word.

Minho steps forward immediately, his hand brushing against your arm. “What the fuck was that about?”

You force a small smile, letting go of the railing as you straighten up. “Nothing. I had it handled.”

Jisung scoffs, crossing his arms. “Yeah, sure. You were about to fall, or get pushed, down the stairs.”

Minho’s expression softens, but his voice is firm. “Okay, come on. I’m teaching you how to throw a punch. Right now.”

You blink, surprised. “In this?” You gesture to your outfit, your tone incredulous.

Minho raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching upward. “Take the shoes off once we get to the gym. You’ll be fine. Let’s go. I’ll keep it light so you don’t sweat in your nice clothes.”

Jisung grins, already stepping toward the nearest gym. “I’ll hold the pads. Let’s see if you can throw a punch that’ll knock someone on their ass.”

The walk to the gym is lighthearted despite the heavy situation that led them there. Minho strides confidently at the front, his gym bag slung over his shoulder, while you and Jisung follow close behind. Jisung is already cracking jokes about how out of shape he is and how he’s going to collapse holding the boxing pads.

When they arrive, Minho efficiently signs all three of you in on his membership, exchanging a few friendly words with the staff before leading the way to the back of the gym. It’s quieter here, the distant clink of weights and hum of treadmills a background buzz. Minho gestures toward a corner, and you step onto the mat, kicking off your white stilettos.

“Nice socks,” Jisung says with a grin as he notices the pastel Tinkerbell pattern adorning your feet. “Love them. I want a pair.”

You roll your eyes, smirking. “You’d look great in them.”

“I know,” Jisung says, dead serious. “I’ve got the legs for it.”

Minho clears his throat, drawing your attention. “Alright, let’s get started. Boxing is great, helps you know how to throw a punch, but it’s not the only thing you need to know. You’ve also got to know how to get out of holds. So, someone grabs you from behind, what do you do?”

You tilt your head thoughtfully. “Throw my head back and break their nose?”

Minho shakes his head. “Last resort. Sure, it could work, but it’s risky. You could disorient yourself, get a headache, or spotty vision. Now you’re temporarily free but vulnerable, and bam, he’s got you again. You need to focus on vital spots and the best way to get out.”

He steps behind you, his voice steady and calm as he explains. “If someone grabs you from behind, there are three good spots to target: the ribs, the groin, and the knees. You stomp backwards on their knee with those big-ass boots or stilettos of yours. Knees aren’t meant to go backwards.”

Minho gently places his hands on your shoulders to guide your stance. “Alright, lift your leg.”

You follow his instructions, lifting your foot slightly.

“Now, bring it back onto my knee. Gently. Please don’t fuck my knee up,” Minho adds with a smirk.

You laugh softly, bringing your foot down carefully against his leg.

“Good,” Minho says, nodding in approval. “When someone grabs you, your adrenaline’s going to be pumping. It makes you stronger, more alert. You kick their knee just right, they’re not chasing you anywhere anytime soon if their kneecap’s out of place.”

Jisung watches, arms crossed, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Damn, Min, you’re scarier than I thought.”

Minho ignores him, stepping back in front of you. “Alright, now, if someone comes at you head-on, you’ve got three main targets: eyes, throat, and groin. Blind, wind, incapacitate. Fingers to the eyes, punch to the throat, knee to the groin.”

“Blind, wind, incapacitate,” you repeat, nodding. “Got it.”

Minho steps closer, miming a punch to the air. “You hit them in those spots in quick succession, they’re done. But what if you’re pinned to the ground? Then what?”

You pause, frowning slightly. “I… don’t know.”

Minho gestures for you to sit on the mat, then lies down beside you, demonstrating the position. “If you’re pinned, you need to use your legs. They’re your strongest weapons in that position. Hook your leg around theirs, shift your hips, and roll them off balance.” He sits up, locking eyes with you. “The goal isn’t to fight forever. It’s to create an opening to escape. Always focus on getting away.”

Minho claps his hands together, signalling a change in the lesson. “Alright, punches. You’ve gotta learn how to throw them properly, or you’ll break your wrist or your thumb. And trust me, that shit’s not fun.”

He grabs a roll of hand wraps and steps closer to you, his fingers deftly unwinding the fabric. “Hold still,” he mutters, carefully wrapping your hands. His touch is firm but gentle, ensuring the wraps are snug without cutting off circulation. He secures the ends and slides on wrist supports to reinforce the wraps, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“Thanks,” you say softly, flexing your fingers experimentally.

Minho nods, stepping back and motioning to Jisung. “Jagi, grab the pads.”

Jisung snatches them from the floor, slipping them onto his hands and holding them up. “Ready for action!” he declares, his grin wide.

Minho quirks an eyebrow. “Hold them properly, jagi. You might be my boyfriend, but I’ll laugh if she misses and messes up your pretty face.”

Jisung huffs dramatically, adjusting his grip. “You wouldn’t laugh. You’d cry. You’re obsessed with my face.”

“Shut up,” Minho mutters, shaking his head. “Alright, Y/N, let’s see your fist.”

You raise your hands, curling them into fists with your thumbs tucked inside. Minho’s eyes widen, and he quickly steps forward, his hands gently encircling yours. “Yah! Do not tuck your thumb inside your fist. What are you trying to do, ruin your hand forever?”

You blink at him. “Wait, why?”

Minho adjusts your fist, his movements deliberate. “Tuck your thumb across the base of your index and middle fingers, like this,” he explains, demonstrating. “Keep it on the outside of your fist to protect it from injury when you hit something. If you keep it tucked inside, you’ll fuck it up. Like, badly.”

“Fuck it up how badly?”

Minho pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling dramatically. “Like badly, Y/N. Just trust me.”

You mimic the proper fist formation, nodding. ��Got it.”

“Alright, now punch the pad,” Minho instructs, stepping back.

You throw a punch, your fist connecting with the pad Jisung holds up. The sound is faint, almost unimpressive.

“I felt nothing,” Jisung says flatly, lowering the pad to give you a deadpan look. “Was that supposed to scare me?”

Minho smirks, crossing his arms. “There’s no power behind your punches. Like, none at all.”

“Gee, thanks,” you mutter, rolling your eyes.

“Here,” Minho says, stepping behind you. He places his hands on your shoulders, adjusting your stance. His touch moves to your arms, guiding them through the motion slowly. “Like that. See? You need to use your whole body, not just your arm. Power comes from your legs, your core, and your rotation. Without that, it’s like throwing a frozen pea at a moving car.”

You try again, this time focusing on the movement Minho demonstrated. The punch connects with a louder sound, and Jisung staggers back dramatically, flailing his arms.

“Whoa! Oh no, she’s too strong!” Jisung cries, falling to his knees in mock defeat.

You burst out laughing, your shoulders shaking. “Jisung, get up.”

“Never!” Jisung declares, crawling on the mat like he’s been mortally wounded. “I’ve been taken out by the incredible, indomitable Y/N!”

Minho sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose again. “You’re not helping, jagi.”

“Yes, I am!” Jisung retorts, getting to his feet. “She’s laughing, isn’t she?”

Minho shakes his head but doesn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Fine. But you’re holding the pads until she gets it right.”

“Deal,” Jisung says, raising the pads again with an exaggerated flourish. “Hit me, Y/N! But not too hard. I’m delicate.”

You laugh, taking your stance again as Minho steps aside to watch. The lesson continues, and while your punches still lack power, you’re improving with each attempt. Minho’s patient guidance and Jisung’s over-the-top antics keep the mood light, and for the first time in a while, you feel genuinely at ease.

Minho and Jisung lie tangled together in Minho’s bed, the warm glow of his bedside lamp casting soft light over the room. Minho’s laptop balances precariously on Jisung’s stomach as they scroll through the Theta Tau guy’s social media. Minho, shirtless and relaxed, has an arm slung over Jisung’s chest, his chin resting on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Jisung, still wearing Minho’s oversized hoodie, lazily scrolls with one hand while the other plays with Minho’s fingers.

“There’s nothing on here that points to Y/N,” Minho mutters, frowning at the screen. His thumb absentmindedly strokes Jisung’s hand.

“There has to be something,” Jisung insists, his eyes scanning the page with growing frustration. “I mean, you don’t just corner a girl in a stairwell and nearly knock her down the stairs for no reason. My journalist senses can feel it, Min, it’s tingling in my left nut.”

Minho snorts, burying his face in Jisung’s neck for a moment to stifle his laugh. “Your left nut? Really?”

“Yes!” Jisung exclaims, looking at Minho with mock seriousness. “It’s like that time Felix no-ballsed me into putting Deep Heat down there. Something was wrong that day, and that same wrong feeling is back.”

“All I remember from that day,” Minho says dryly, lifting his head, “is you crying like a baby and me having to help you wash your balls in cool water.”

Jisung groans, throwing his head back against the pillow. “It was traumatic.”

“For me, too,” Minho says, smirking. “You were screaming like you were being murdered.”

“Because it felt like my balls were on fire, Minho!” Jisung huffs, but there’s a playful glint in his eye as he turns back to the screen. “Anyway, focus. We’re looking for dirt on this dickhead.”

Minho chuckles, nuzzling closer as Jisung scrolls. A few moments later, Jisung suddenly perks up. “Ooh! Here!” He points to the screen, his voice tinged with excitement.

Minho leans closer, narrowing his eyes at the photo Jisung has pulled up. It’s a picture from a Theta Tau party a year ago. You’re front and centre in the photo, a red solo cup in hand, your smile wide but a little too forced if they look closely enough. The Theta Tau guy stands beside you, his arm slung over your shoulders, his grin wide and smug. The caption reads: Wildest girl on campus.

Minho’s eyes darken. “So now engage your criminal psych brain, Ji.”

Jisung sits up slightly, his focus sharp. “Alright,” he says, his voice more serious now. “My criminal psych mind jumps to stalker, but that’s just me. The photo, the caption, it’s giving possessive vibes.”

“Possessive how?” Minho asks, his fingers still absently toying with Jisung’s hoodie strings.

“Look at the caption. Wildest girl on campus. It’s like he’s trying to brand her,” Jisung explains, gesturing at the screen. “But we don’t really know anything yet, so we can’t make assumptions.”

Minho hums thoughtfully, his eyes fixed on the screen. “But if he does have some sort of obsession with her, it might explain why he was cornering her in the stairwell.”

“Exactly,” Jisung agrees. “But we need more to go on. This is just speculation.”

Minho sits up, taking the laptop from Jisung and setting it aside. He looks at his boyfriend, his expression serious. “If it is something like that, we’re not letting it slide.”

“Duh,” Jisung replies, rolling his eyes. “You think I’d let anything happen to her? I’d kick that guy’s ass myself.”

Minho smirks, pulling Jisung into his arms. “I’d pay to see that.”

Jisung grins, wrapping his arms around Minho’s waist. “Don’t worry, jagi. Between your boxing and my journalist instincts, we’ve got this.”

Minho presses a kiss to Jisung’s temple, but his mind is still racing with possibilities. Whatever’s going on, he’s determined to get to the bottom of it and to keep you safe in the process.

The college football field buzzes with energy. The stands are packed with students wearing the red and black colours of the Miroh Maniacs or the grey and purple of the Levanter Lobos. The crisp fall air carries the faint smell of popcorn and hot dogs from the concession stands, and the band plays an upbeat fight song to rile up the crowd.

You’re seated in the front row of the bleachers, your black and red tartan miniskirt catching the light as you cross your legs. The thigh-high black-heeled boots you’re wearing make you feel both powerful and overdressed compared to the sea of jerseys and hoodies around you. Your black turtleneck and red and black tartan blazer complete the look, and the red ribbon tying back your half-up, half-down hair flutters slightly in the breeze.

On the field, the Miroh Maniacs’ lineup is imposing in their red and black uniforms. Chan, #03, is shouting instructions as the team gathers at the line of scrimmage. Minho, #25, adjusts his helmet, his sharp eyes scanning the opposing players. Changbin, #04, slams his hands together, psyching himself up, while Hyunjin, #69, stretches dramatically, earning laughs from nearby players. Jisung, #08, bounces on his toes, and Felix, #01, waves at you from his position near the sideline. Seungmin, #11, and Jeongin, #23, exchange a quick fist bump before taking their positions.

When they all glance toward you and wave, you smile brightly, waving back enthusiastically. The sight of you seems to inject an extra burst of energy into the team, and Jisung flashes you a grin before nudging Minho. “She’s got the best seat in the house,” he says.

“Damn right,” Minho mutters, his focus briefly flickering to you before snapping back to the game.

The whistle blows, and the first quarter is chaos. The Maniacs play hard, with Chan’s commanding presence as quarterback setting up plays that leave the Lobos scrambling. Changbin bulldozes through the defence, and Hyunjin makes an acrobatic catch that has the crowd on their feet. Jisung is everywhere, darting through gaps in the Lobos’ defence with impressive speed, while Minho is a brick wall, stopping the Lobos’ offence in its tracks.

Halfway through the first half, Jisung glances at the bleachers to steal a look at you. His smile fades instantly. Minho follows his gaze and spots what Jisung is staring at: the Theta Tau guy is sitting next to you. His body leans in toward yours, and his lips move as he whispers something in your ear. Your face is a mask of calm, but your eyes are locked straight ahead, not acknowledging him.

Jisung’s grip on his helmet tightens. “What the fuck is he doing?”

The guy leans closer, saying something else, and you suddenly get to your feet. Your hand grips the strap of your handbag tightly, and you follow him toward the back of the bleachers. But as you walk, you glance back over your shoulder, your eyes locking with Jisung and Minho for a split second before disappearing out of sight.

“Chan!” Jisung shouts, his voice sharp with urgency. “Call a fucking break!”

Chan turns, confused, but the look on Jisung’s face tells him it’s serious. “Shit,” he mutters, jogging over to the referee to call for a timeout.

The crowd groans in confusion as the game pauses. On the sideline, Jisung and Minho are already ripping off their helmets and jogging toward the bleachers.

“Where the hell did she go?” Jisung asks, his voice tight.

Minho’s eyes scan the area, his jaw clenched. “Behind the bleachers. Let’s go.”

Without another word, the two of them take off, their cleats clacking against the pavement as they make their way to find you. Minho and Jisung crouch as they reach the back of the bleachers, their cleats scrape softly against the gravel as they peek around the corner. The sight before them makes their blood boil.

You’re standing with your back against a steel support beam, clutching your black handbag tightly in one hand while the other lightly presses against your mouth. Blood trickles from a split in your lip as the Theta Tau guy looms over you, his face twisted into a smug smirk as he waves his phone in front of you.

“Delete it,” you plead, your voice trembling but firm. “Please. Just delete it.”

“I told you what you have to do,” the guy sneers, his voice low and mocking.

You shake your head, tears glistening in your eyes as you struggle to maintain your composure. “I don’t want to do that.”

Before either of you can react, he grabs your face roughly, forcing you to look at him. That’s the last straw.

Minho is on him in an instant, his cleats kicking up gravel as he grabs the guy from behind and locks him in a headlock. “You fucking piece of shit,” Minho snarls, his biceps tightening around the man’s neck.

“What the fuck?!” the guy chokes out, his phone slipping from his hand.

Jisung snatches it up without hesitation, his expression icy as he flips the device over in his hand. “Hold his head still, Min.”

“Already on it,” Minho growls, adjusting his grip to keep the guy immobilized. The Theta Tau guy squirms, but he’s no match for Minho’s strength.

Jisung holds the phone up to the guy’s face, the screen unlocking instantly with Face ID. “Got it.” He hands the phone to you, his voice softening slightly. “Here, Y/N. Delete whatever he’s holding over you.”

Your hands tremble as you take the phone. Your breath hitches as you navigate to the photo gallery, and your face twists in a mix of relief and anger when you find what you’re looking for. An upskirt photo. Your eyes sting as you quickly delete it, your fingers moving with unsteady urgency.

“What did you threaten her with, hmm?” Minho hisses, his tone venomous. “Answer before I start breaking bones.”

The guy glares at Minho but falters when the pressure around his neck increases. “An… an upskirt picture!” he chokes out.

“You piece of shit,” Minho spits, his jaw tightening.

“Is it on your iCloud?” Jisung demands, his voice sharp and unwavering.

“No! Just my camera roll!” the guy blurts.

You glance at Jisung, who nods encouragingly. You double-check the recently deleted folder and erase the photo permanently before handing the phone back to Jisung. Without hesitation, Jisung hurls it to the ground, the screen shattering on impact. He stomps on it for good measure, grinding it into the gravel until it’s completely destroyed.

Minho loosens his grip slightly but doesn’t let the guy go. “What else did you do to her?” His voice is deadly quiet, his rage barely contained.

“I just followed her a few times! Sent her some notes! It was harmless shit!” the guy protests.

Minho’s laugh is dark and humourless. “Okay, so if that’s harmless, me breaking your nose is also harmless, hmm?”

Before the guy can respond, Minho lets him go, stepping back just enough to wind up and punch him square in the face. The crack of impact echoes under the bleachers as the guy stumbles back, clutching his nose with a pained yell.

Jisung moves to your side instantly, his hands cupping your face gently as he examines your split lip. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice softer now, tinged with worry.

You nod, but your lip wobbles, and tears spill over despite your best efforts to hold them back. Jisung pulls you into his arms without a second thought, holding you tightly as you cling to him. His hand smooths over your hair, his voice low and soothing as he whispers, “Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay now. I’ve got you.”

Minho steps back to your side, his breathing heavy but his expression softening as he looks at you. “We’ve got you,” he says firmly, his hand brushing against your shoulder in a silent show of support.

The Theta Tau guy stumbles to his feet and takes off without another word, leaving the three of you alone under the bleachers. For now, the game is the furthest thing from anyone’s mind. Minho and Jisung are focused solely on you, their protectiveness evident in every glance and touch as they guide you away from the scene.

Minho straightens his jersey and exhales sharply, his jaw tight as he glances between you and Jisung. Your face is buried against Jisung’s shoulder, your hands clutching at his jersey like a lifeline, and Jisung’s arms are wrapped protectively around you.

“I’ll go talk to Chan,” Minho says, his voice steady but edged with quiet fury. “Two of the newer guys can sub in for us. I’ll grab our bags from the locker room.”

Jisung nods, his fingers combing gently through your hair, careful not to disturb the ribbon tied at the back. His other hand strokes soothing circles along your back. “Go. We’ll be here.”

Minho jogs off toward the field, his cleats crunching against the gravel. Jisung looks down at you, his brows knitting together as he leans his cheek against the top of your head. “How long has this been going on?” he asks, his voice low but firm.

You don’t lift your head, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “A few months,” you admit, your grip on his jersey tightening.

Jisung’s heart aches at your admission. “Oh, our sweet, sweet girl,” he murmurs, holding you even closer. The words slip out without thought, and you don’t even seem to notice. His chest tightens as he thinks about everything you’ve been carrying on your own, and the urge to shield you from every possible harm swells within him.

He gently shifts his stance to hold you more securely, his voice softening. “We’ve got you, okay? Minho and I. Whatever you need, we’ll be here.”

You nod silently, the motion so small and vulnerable that it makes Jisung’s throat tighten. He stays quiet for a moment, simply holding you as your breathing evens out. His hand continues stroking your back, the repetitive motion grounding for both of you.

Minho returns a few minutes later, a gym bag slung over his shoulder and an intense look in his eyes. He pauses when he sees the way Jisung is cradling you, his expression softening for just a moment before he clears his throat. “Chan’s got it covered. He’s pissed, but he said he’ll handle it with the coach.”

Jisung nods, his hand still threading through your hair. “Thanks.”

Minho steps closer, setting the bag down at his feet. “Let’s get out of here,” he says, his tone gentler now. “Y/N, you good to walk, or do you need me to carry you?”

You shake your head slowly, lifting it just enough to meet Minho’s eyes. “I can walk,” you whisper.

“Alright,” Minho says, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch is light, careful, as though he’s afraid you might shatter. “Let’s go.”

The walk back to the frat house is quiet, the tension from earlier still lingering in the air. Jisung stays close to your side, his hand hovering near your back as if ready to steady you at any moment. Minho walks on your other side, his sharp gaze flicking to anyone who so much as glances your way. When the three of you step through the front door of the house, the familiar warmth and faint smell of laundry detergent and leftover pizza greet you.

Minho sets the gym bag down near the couch and turns to you. “We’re gonna go shower,” he says, his tone softer than usual. “You gonna be okay?”

You nod, managing a small smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Minho’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer, his lips pressing into a thin line. Jisung hesitates too, his brows furrowing, but he doesn’t say anything as they both head upstairs. Their heavy footsteps fade, leaving you alone in the quiet house.

You take a deep breath, exhaling shakily as you step into the kitchen. Bending down, you pull the first aid kit from under the sink and set it on the counter. You reach into your bag, pulling out your compact mirror and flipping it open. The fluorescent kitchen light illuminates the damage.

Your split lip looks worse now than it did under the bleachers, the small wound red and raw. A faint shadow of smeared lipstick surrounds it, a stark reminder of how hard you’ve been trying to keep it together. You sigh, reaching into the kit for an antiseptic wipe.

The moment the cool wipe touches your skin, a sharp sting flares up, making you wince. “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, dabbing gently at the cut. The antiseptic smells sterile, a harsh contrast to the comforting familiarity of the kitchen. You work methodically, cleaning the area and wiping away the traces of blood.

As you do, your mind drifts back to the events of the day. The Theta Tau guy’s smirk, his hand grabbing your face, the fear that coursed through you as he loomed over you. Your hands tremble slightly, but you force yourself to focus, using the mirror to inspect your work.

“Not bad,” you mumble to yourself, forcing a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

You toss the used wipe into the trash, closing the first aid kit and leaning against the counter for a moment. The silence feels heavy, pressing down on you as you try to shake the lingering unease. You press your hands against the cool surface of the counter, grounding yourself, and close your eyes, taking a deep breath.

They said they’ve got you. And for the first time in a while, you think you might actually believe it.

The hot spray of the shower cascades over Minho and Jisung, the steam curling around them in the small bathroom. Minho stands with his hands braced against the tiled wall, his head bowed, water dripping down his tense shoulders. Jisung watches him quietly, his own body relaxed but his mind racing.

“Min, you need to calm down, baby,” Jisung says softly, stepping closer and placing his hands on Minho’s shoulders. His thumbs press into the knots beneath the damp skin. “You’re too wound up to go back down and comfort her like this.”

Minho lets out a heavy sigh, his breath fogging in the humid air. “I know,” he mutters, his voice tight. “But it’s not fucking working.”

Jisung’s hands still for a moment before resuming their gentle massage. “Stress reliever handy?” he asks, his tone calm but purposeful.

Minho nods, his head dipping slightly. “Yeah.”

Jisung leans in, his lips brushing against Minho’s ear. “Make no mistake, I’m in control right now because that’s what you need.”

Minho nods rapidly, the tension in his shoulders shifting as he gives himself over to Jisung. “Please.”

Jisung hums in approval, his hands sliding down Minho’s arms before circling him from behind. “Relax, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “Let Ji take care of you as we both think about our pretty girl, hmm?”

Minho’s breath catches, his hands curling into fists against the tile. “Fuck, Ji.”

“That’s it,” Jisung whispers, his hand wrapping around Minho’s dick with practised ease. His strokes are slow at first, deliberate, coaxing. “You kept our pretty girl safe, Min. You stopped that guy. I’m so proud of you, my Minho, my beautiful Min.”

Minho’s head tilts back, his breath coming in short, shaky bursts as Jisung’s hand moves faster. “Ji-”

Jisung presses kisses to Minho’s collarbones, his lips soft against the slick skin. “You kept her safe,” he continues, his voice full of praise. “You showed that guy what happens when someone messes with her. My strong, sexy baby.”

Minho cries out, his body trembling under Jisung’s touch. Jisung holds him steady, his strokes firm but comforting. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “Come on, let go for me.”

Minho’s release is sudden and overwhelming, his body shuddering as he leans back against Jisung for support. Jisung holds him close, his free hand stroking Minho’s side in soothing circles as the water washes away the evidence of their intimacy.

“Shh,” Jisung whispers, his lips brushing against Minho’s temple. “You’re okay now, baby. Feeling calmer?”

Minho nods weakly, his head lolling to the side as he catches his breath. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “Thanks, Ji.”

Jisung smiles, pressing one last kiss to Minho’s shoulder before stepping back slightly to rinse them both off. “Anything for you, Min. Let’s finish up and go check on her, yeah?”

Minho straightens, the tension in his body eased but his determination renewed. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

The two of them step out of the shower moments later, their movements in sync as they towel off and redress, their focus already shifting back to you. Whatever comes next, they’re ready to face it. Together.

Minho and Jisung descend the stairs, their hair damp from the shower and their moods slightly more composed. Dressed in sweatpants and soft t-shirts, they move through the house with purpose, their footsteps muffled against the carpet. As they reach the kitchen, they stop in the doorway, their gazes landing on you.

You’re perched on a stool at the kitchen island, your compact mirror propped up as you dab at your chin with a makeup sponge. “Hey,” Jisung says softly, stepping forward as you glance up at them. Your lips twitch into a weak smile, and he’s relieved to see even that small flicker of emotion.

“Hey,” you reply, your voice quiet.

Minho moves past Jisung, heading to the counter where the kettle sits. “I’ll make tea,” he says, his voice calm and steady, a grounding presence in the room. “For all of us.”

Jisung pulls out the stool next to yours, sliding onto it. He leans his elbows on the counter, his head tilted as he watches you. “Let me fix that,” he says, gesturing toward your face.

You blink, confused. “You can do makeup?”

Jisung grins, leaning closer. “Not eyeliner, I’m shit at that. But the basics? Yeah. Min likes makeup sometimes.”

You glance at Minho, who’s smirking as he fills the kettle. “Really?” you ask, your curiosity momentarily distracting you from everything else.

“Yup,” Minho says without looking up. “I’ve got the cheekbones for it.”

You can’t help the small laugh that escapes you, and Jisung beams at the sound. “Okay,” you say, handing him the makeup sponge. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Jisung takes the sponge and your compact, his movements careful as he dabs at your chin. His touch is gentle, his focus intense as he smooths out the area where the blood had crusted earlier. “You’re good at this,” you murmur, watching him work.

“Told you,” Jisung replies, winking. “Minho’s got high standards, so I had to learn.”

Minho chuckles from across the room, pulling mugs from the cabinet. “That piece of shit won’t come near you again if he’s got a single brain cell in that thick skull of his,” he says, his voice low but firm.

You glance down at your hands, twisting your fingers together. “You guys don’t have to do all of this,” you say softly, guilt flickering in your tone.

Minho sets a mug on the counter in front of you, his sharp gaze softening as he leans against the island. “You don’t understand what we would do for you, sweet girl,” he says, his words measured but earnest. “But that’s okay. Give it time. We’re in no rush.”

You blink, confusion crossing your face at the intensity in his words, but before you can respond, Jisung leans back, examining his work with a satisfied smile. “Done. You’re back to flawless.”

You smile faintly, taking the compact back and glancing at your reflection. “Thanks, Ji.”

“Anytime,” he says with a grin, his hand brushing against your arm briefly before pulling away.

Minho places a steaming mug of tea in front of you, the warmth seeping into your fingers as you cradle it. “Drink,” he says simply. “You’ll feel better.”

You nod, taking a small sip, the warmth and taste grounding you. The two of them stay close, their presence comforting in a way that words can’t quite capture. For the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself lean on someone else.

Jeongin’s room is a cosy disaster. There’s a pile of laundry in the corner that’s been waiting to be folded for weeks, and his desk is cluttered with an assortment of notebooks, snack wrappers, and half-finished projects. But his bed is a sanctuary, a fluffy mountain of mismatched blankets and pillows, perfect for a lazy night in.

You’re lying on your stomach in the centre of it, your feet kicking idly in your fluffy black socks as you sip straight from a bottle of cheap red wine. A cooling sheet mask clings to your face, and the glow of The Princess Diaries illuminates the room.

Jeongin is beside you, similarly face-masked and holding his own bottle of white wine, which he swirls like a sommelier despite it being something that cost less than ten bucks.

“I can’t believe you own a Juicy tracksuit,” Jeongin says, gesturing at your outfit with his wine bottle. The black velour set hugs your figure, the word “Juicy” spelt out in glittering diamantes across your ass. The cropped hoodie rides up slightly as you shift, revealing a sliver of skin.

“Hyunjin has it in pink,” you reply, completely unfazed. “Felix has it in blue. We found them at a thrift shop, and obviously, we had to buy them.”

Jeongin snorts, shaking his head. “I can’t decide if that’s iconic or tragic.”

“Both,” you say, grinning as you sip your wine. “But mostly iconic.”

The movie plays on in the background, the familiar scenes providing comfort. When Mia Thermopolis takes her infamous tumble in the bleachers, you both burst out laughing, even though you’ve seen it a dozen times.

Jeongin’s laughter fades as he looks over at you. “So,” he starts, his tone shifting slightly, “Minho and Jisung told us all about the Theta Tau dickhead.”

Your smile falters, and you lower your wine bottle. “Innie-”

He shakes his head. “I’m not mad at you. I just want to know why you didn’t tell me.”

You sigh, resting your cheek against the cool pillow. “I would have told you, but he said if I told anyone, that picture would go all over the internet.”

Jeongin’s face softens, and he reaches out to nudge your shoulder gently. “I’m not mad at you, idiot. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m okay,” you insist, though your voice wavers slightly. “My lip’s healed. The guy backed off after Minho wailed on him and Jisung smashed his phone to pieces. It’s handled.”

Jeongin doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he nods, taking another swig of his wine. “Talking about Minho and Jisung,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “what’s going on there?”

Your brow furrows. “How do you mean?”

“Girl,”

“Boy,”

“Be so fucking for real right now,” he demands, sitting up and glaring at you through the slits of his face mask.

You groan, rolling onto your back. “Okay, fine. They’re not exactly subtle, but what if they just want one night and done?”

Jeongin raises an eyebrow. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m not!” you protest. “I mean, what if I mess things up? What if it’s just casual for them?”

“Well,” Jeongin says, shrugging dramatically, “you’ll have to ask them.”

“That sounds like hell,” you mutter, groaning again as you cover your face with your hands.

Jeongin pats your thigh consolingly, his voice softening. “It’s not hell if they care about you, and I think they do. You’re not as good at hiding your feelings as you think, and neither are they.”

You peek at him through your fingers, your lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “Since when are you this wise?”

“Since always,” Jeongin says smugly, reclining against his pillows like a king. “Now shut up and pass me the chocolate. Therapy wine and The Princess Diaries require snacks.”

You chuckle, tossing him a candy bar from the pile of junk food on the nightstand. For now, you let the conversation drop, burying your worries beneath laughter and cheap wine as the movie plays on. But Jeongin’s words linger, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you know he’s right.

Minho’s room is a blend of chaos and comfort, with the faint hum of David Attenborough’s soothing narration on the TV providing a calm backdrop to Jisung’s enthusiastic commentary as he plays The Sims on Minho’s laptop. The two of them are sprawled on Minho’s bed, Jisung’s legs tangled with Minho’s as they cuddle beneath a blanket.

Jisung is perched with the laptop balanced on his thighs, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he perfects his newest sim. “Alright,” he says, biting his lip in concentration. “I’ve got your sim, and I’ve got her sim. Now it’s my turn.”

Minho doesn’t look up from the screen, where a pod of dolphins gracefully arches out of the water in stunning high-definition. “Make yourself hot, jagi,” he says absently, his hand lazily stroking Jisung’s thigh.

“I’m already hot,” Jisung retorts, smirking. “But fine, I’ll be extra hot.”

He finishes tweaking his sim’s features, giving it his trademark silver hair and an outfit that looks straight out of a runway show. Once he’s satisfied, he grins wickedly. “Okay, time to make my sim woohoo your sim.”

Minho finally glances over, raising an eyebrow. “Sexy.”

Jisung snorts, clicking the interaction button. “Look! We’re woohooing! Oh my God, the bed is shaking! Scandalous.”

Minho chuckles, his lips quirking into a smirk as he watches the pixelated characters dive under the covers with a flurry of hearts and confetti. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously hot, you mean,” Jisung says, grinning as he continues to make the sims woohoo. “Ooh, we’re going again. Look at us. Nonstop action. This is basically porn.”

“Pixel porn,” Minho deadpans, though his eyes are sparkling with amusement.

Jisung keeps clicking, his enthusiasm building. “Oh, wait, plot twist! Your sim is pregnant.”

Minho groans, throwing his head back. “Jisung.”

“Look!” Jisung exclaims, pointing at the screen. “Mpreg! Mpreg Minho! It’s even alliteration. Meant to be.”

“That is the worst thing you have ever done,” Minho mutters, though he’s laughing despite himself.

Jisung giggles uncontrollably, leaning against Minho for support. “You’re like an omega from A/B/O. Submissive and breedable.”

Minho snorts, swatting at Jisung’s arm. “Shut up.”

“Never!” Jisung declares, clicking away. “Ooh, we’re woohooing again. Now you’re woohooing her sim! Now I’m woohooing her sim! It’s a polyamorous paradise.”

Minho shakes his head, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “You’re having way too much fun with this.”

Jisung grins devilishly, his eyes glued to the screen as he starts making dirty commentary. “Oh, look at that. Jisung Sim, absolutely wrecking Minho Sim. And now Minho Sim is carrying twins. Who’s the daddy? Me. Plot twist, it’s always me.”

Minho groans, covering his face with one hand as his shoulders shake with laughter. “You’re insane.”

“And you love me for it,” Jisung says, leaning in to kiss Minho’s cheek before going back to his chaotic gameplay. “Oh no! Minho Sim is going into labour. What do we do?”

Minho rolls his eyes, still laughing. “Delete the game. That’s what we do.”

Jisung suddenly shuts the laptop with a decisive snap and looks up at Minho. “I have an idea,” he announces, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Minho raises an eyebrow, leaning back against the headboard. “Is it a good idea?”

“When have I ever had bad ideas?” Jisung counters, puffing out his chest in mock indignation.

Minho doesn’t even hesitate. “Do you want me to start from the top? Because I will. How about the time you bought that vibrating cock ring and it got stuck?”

Jisung’s face flushes. “That was one time!”

“Or when you thought a double-ended dildo would be fun for us and ended up knocking over the lamp while trying to figure it out.”

Jisung groans, burying his face in his hands. “Stop.”

“Oh, and let’s not forget the brilliant idea of edible lube that tasted like fucking cough syrup,” Minho continues, smirking. “Or-”

“Okay!” Jisung interrupts, holding up his hands in surrender. “Fine. I’ve had a few missteps.”

“A few?” Minho scoffs, but his smirk softens as he leans forward. “So, what’s this idea?”

“I’m going to go ask Y/N on a date,” Jisung declares, his grin wide.

Minho blinks, his brows knitting together in surprise. “Uh, what?”

“Not just me,” Jisung adds, hopping off the bed and heading for the door. “Both of us. A date with both of us.”

“Wait, hold on,” Minho says, sitting up straighter. “You’re going right now?”

“Yup,” Jisung chirps, already halfway out the room. “Be right back!”

“Jisung!” Minho calls after him, but Jisung is already bounding down the hall, his bare feet slapping against the wooden floor. Minho lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his temples. “Fucking hell.”

In Jeongin’s room, you’re lounging on his bed, the remnants of your wine bottle on the nightstand and the sheet mask peeled off and discarded. “Y/N!” Jisung’s voice rings out, loud and enthusiastic.

You and Jeongin both whip your heads around to see him standing in the doorway, his silver hair slightly damp and his grin as bright as a kid who just found out it’s Christmas.

“Uh, hey, Ji?” you say cautiously, sitting up straighter.

“You, me, Minho,” Jisung says in one breath, pointing at you with both hands. “Date tomorrow night. We’ll pick you up from your place at eight. Okay, bye!”

Before you can respond, he spins on his heel and marches back down the hall, leaving you and Jeongin staring after him in stunned silence.

“What the actual fuck just happened?” Jeongin finally asks, blinking at the empty doorway.

“I… I don’t know,” you admit, your face heating up as you process what Jisung just said. “A date? With both of them?”

Jeongin looks at you, his lips curling into a grin. “Girl, you better dress for that. This is huge.”

Your heart is pounding, your thoughts racing as you glance toward the door, then back at Jeongin. “This can’t be real.”

“Oh, it’s real,” Jeongin says, grabbing his phone. “We’re planning your outfit now. You’re going to knock them both flat on their asses.”

Jisung returns to Minho’s room triumphantly, shutting the door behind him as Minho stares at him, his expression a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“What the hell did you do?” Minho asks.

“Secured our date for tomorrow,” Jisung replies. “Get ready, Min. We’re making moves.”

Jisung grins at Minho, his silver hair falling messily over his forehead as he dramatically flops back onto the bed, his hands behind his head.

“Okay,” he declares, “now suck my dick! For being the best and getting us a date.”

Minho snorts, leaning against the headboard. “Now there’s a good idea.”

Jisung raises an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. “I’m serious, Min. I deserve a reward.”

Minho rolls his eyes but pushes himself up from his relaxed position, crawling over to where Jisung lies sprawled out. His movements are slow and deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he murmurs, brushing Jisung’s hair back from his forehead before leaning down to press a teasing kiss to the corner of his lips.

Jisung shivers under his touch, his grin softening into something more genuine. “You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first.”

Minho smirks, trailing kisses along Jisung’s jawline, his hands sliding under the hem of Jisung’s oversized t-shirt. “Shut up, Ji.”

Jisung laughs softly, but the sound catches in his throat as Minho’s lips move lower, his mouth hot against the sensitive skin of Jisung’s neck. “Min-”

Minho doesn’t reply, his hands slipping down to tug at the waistband of Jisung’s sweatpants. “Lift your hips,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding.

Jisung obeys without hesitation, his breath hitching as Minho drags the fabric down, exposing him. The cool air of the room contrasts with the heat pooling between them, and Jisung’s hands grip the sheets beneath him, his confidence wavering just slightly in the face of Minho’s intensity.

“You really think you’re the best?” Minho asks, his voice teasing as he settles between Jisung’s legs.

Jisung’s grin returns, though it’s laced with a hint of nervous energy. “Obviously.”

Minho chuckles, his hands firm on Jisung’s thighs as he leans down. “Let’s see if I can knock you down a peg.”

Jisung’s laughter fades into a sharp inhale as Minho’s mouth closes over him, the sensation stealing whatever witty retort was on the tip of his tongue. His head falls back against the pillows, his fingers tangling in Minho’s hair as Minho works him over with maddening precision.

“Fuck,” Jisung breathes, his voice barely above a whisper. “Minho-”

Minho hums in response, the vibrations drawing a shuddering gasp from Jisung. His pace is steady, his movements calculated to draw out every sound Jisung tries and fails to stifle.

“You’re too good at this,” Jisung manages to choke out, his grip tightening in Minho’s hair as he teeters on the edge.

Minho pulls back slightly, his lips slick and his smirk sharp. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to, jagi.”

Jisung doesn’t have the chance to respond before Minho takes him again, pushing him past the point of no return. His release comes with a strangled cry, his body arching as Minho holds him through it, his hands grounding him even as he feels like he’s falling apart.

Minho finally pulls away, sitting back on his heels with a satisfied smirk as Jisung struggles to catch his breath. “Reward enough?” Minho asks, his tone light and teasing.

Jisung’s chest heaves as he laughs weakly. “You’re gonna kill me one day, you know that?”

Minho leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to Jisung’s forehead. “Only in the best ways, jagi.”

Jisung grins, pulling Minho down beside him and curling into his side. “I fucking love you, Min.”

“I know,” Minho replies, his smirk softening into a genuine smile as he pulls Jisung close. “I love you too.”

Minho’s car pulls up outside your dorm building, the sleek black exterior shining under the dim glow of the streetlights. You glance out the window as you lock your door, catching sight of him leaning casually against the car.

Minho’s outfit is effortlessly chic. A deep purple silk shirt that drapes perfectly over his frame, black slacks that fit like a dream, polished black shoes, and a black beret perched at an angle that only he could pull off. The pearl earrings and matching necklace glint faintly under the light, adding a touch of elegance to his beauty.

Your jaw drops as you step closer, the sound of your white wedges clicking against the pavement. “How do you look prettier than I do?” you ask, half-joking but fully in awe.

Minho looks up, his lips curving into a soft smirk as he takes you in. “I have an androgynous face,” he replies smoothly, gesturing toward his sharp cheekbones. “But you look stunning, so shush. Now hop in.”

“Flatterer,” you mutter, though a blush rises to your cheeks as you glance down at your blue sleeveless halterneck denim jumpsuit. The faux pearl necklace and earrings you’ve paired it with catch the light, complementing the way your hair cascades half-up, half-down, tied with a crisp white ribbon.

Jisung leans out of the backseat, his grin mischievous as he waves at you. He’s dressed to kill in a black tank top under a white jacket with intricate gold detailing, black trousers, and a matching belt. A gold chain hangs around his neck, catching the light with every movement. “Get in here already,” he calls.

You slide into the backseat beside Jisung as Minho gets into the driver’s seat. Jisung immediately pulls out his phone to fiddle with the music, his leg bouncing with restless energy.

“So,” you ask, settling into the plush leather seat, “where are we going?”

“The ice-skating rink,” Jisung announces, turning to flash you a grin.

“Isn’t it closed on Sundays?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Jisung shrugs nonchalantly. “To the public, yeah. But we know the owner. Connections, baby.”

“Like a mafia boss?” you tease, smirking.

Jisung snorts, his laugh bright and unrestrained. “Exactly like a mafia boss. Just call me the Don.”

Minho shakes his head, smiling as he starts the car. “We figured it was fair to do something we’re all bad at.”

You tilt your head, intrigued. “Oh, I did figure skating for thirteen years.”

Minho glances at you in the rearview mirror, one perfectly shaped eyebrow quirking upward. Jisung pauses mid-scroll on his phone, slowly turning to look at you.

“Thirteen years?” Jisung echoes, his tone incredulous.

“Yup,” you say, popping the ‘p’ and crossing one leg over the other. “Competitive and everything.”

Minho exhales dramatically. “Of course. Of course, you’d just casually drop that after we’ve made plans.”

“Oops?” you offer, biting back a smile.

Jisung leans closer, narrowing his eyes playfully. “You’re about to embarrass the hell out of us, aren’t you?”

You grin, leaning back in your seat. “Maybe. But hey, you’re the ones who invited me.”

Minho chuckles, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the steering wheel. “This should be interesting.”

The ice skating rink is eerily quiet as Minho unlocks the door, the sound of the key turning in the lock echoing through the crisp night air. The three of you step inside, the cold instantly hitting your skin. The faint hum of the cooling system and the smell of frozen air transport you back to your years of figure skating.

Minho flicks on the lights, and the rink glows, the pristine ice reflecting the overhead fluorescents. He glances over at you and Jisung. “Grab your skates,” he says, nodding toward the rental booth.

You find a pair of skates in your size with ease and sit down on a bench to lace them up, the movements instinctual after years of practice. Jisung and Minho follow your lead, though it’s clear neither of them has the same muscle memory. Jisung struggles with the laces, muttering a string of curses under his breath, while Minho frowns at his skates like they’ve personally offended him.

“Here,” you say, getting up and kneeling in front of Jisung. “Let me.”

Jisung freezes for a moment, then smirks as you begin retying his laces, your fingers moving quickly but carefully. Over your head, he wiggles his eyebrows at Minho, who rolls his eyes but can’t hide the faint quirk of his lips.

“You’re insufferable,” Minho mouths silently at Jisung, but there’s no real heat behind it.

“You’ve got to lace them like this,” you explain, tugging the laces tight. “It’s like when you wrapped my wrist for hitting the pads. It’s the same principle. Tight enough to protect your ankles but not so tight it cuts off circulation.”

Jisung hums in understanding, watching you with a fond smile. “You’re like a skate whisperer.”

“Shut up,” you say, but you’re smiling as you finish and move on to Minho’s skates. You crouch in front of him, repeating the process. Minho watches you quietly, his expression soft as you work.

“You’re really good at this,” he says after a moment.

“Well, it’s second nature at this point,” you reply, glancing up at him briefly. “Thirteen years and all that.”

Minho nods, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “Thanks.”

Once everyone’s skates are secure, you stand, brushing your hands against your jumpsuit. “Alright, let’s do this.”

You step onto the ice with ease, your movements fluid and graceful as you glide across the rink. The cold air bites at your cheeks, but it’s familiar, comforting. You pick up speed, spinning in place and lifting one leg behind you in an effortless arabesque.

Minho stops at the edge of the rink, blinking. “Well, shit.”

Jisung stares, his jaw dropping. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

You laugh, skating backwards to face them. “Come on, guys. It’s not that hard.”

Minho and Jisung exchange a glance before gingerly stepping onto the ice. Immediately, they both wobble, their arms flailing slightly for balance. Minho grits his teeth, muttering a curse, while Jisung lets out a string of nervous laughter.

“I’m going to die,” Jisung announces dramatically, clutching Minho’s arm for support.

“You’ll be fine,” you say, skating over to a nearby rack. You return with two penguin supports, the kind designed for children, and slide them toward the pair. “Here. These should help.”

Jisung stares at the penguin like it’s an insult. “Seriously?”

“You want to fall on your ass, or do you want to skate?”

Minho snickers, grabbing one of the penguins. “You look cute, Ji. Like a big kid.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jisung grumbles, but he takes the support anyway. “This is humiliating.”

You glide effortlessly across the ice, your movements smooth and fluid as you circle around Minho and Jisung, who are clutching their penguin supports like their lives depend on it. The contrast between your grace and their awkward stumbling is almost too much to handle.

“Show-off,” Jisung mutters, his feet skidding out from under him for the third time in thirty seconds.

“You love it,” you tease, skating backwards with ease as you flash him a cheeky grin.

Minho lets out a dry laugh, his beret somehow still perfectly in place despite the way he clings to his penguin. “I feel like Bambi learning to walk.”

“You look like Bambi learning to walk,” you quip, spinning in a quick circle before continuing your laps.

The two of them wobble and slide, their movements anything but coordinated. Every time Jisung tries to pick up speed, his penguin wobbles dangerously, forcing him to stop. Minho isn’t faring much better, though he’s at least managed not to fall. So far.

“Fuck this,” Jisung grumbles, glaring at the penguin as if it’s personally offended him.

You can’t help but laugh, your voice ringing out across the rink. “You’re doing great, Ji.”

“Shut up!” Jisung retorts, though the corners of his mouth twitch upward.

As if to prove his point, he leans forward on the penguin, trying to push off with more force. But the extra weight causes the penguin to tilt forward, and before he can react, both he and the penguin hit the ice with a loud thud.

“Fuck!” Jisung yells, sprawled on the ice as the penguin lies face down beside him.

Minho, who’s been watching the entire thing, bursts into laughter. It starts as a chuckle but quickly escalates into full-blown cackling. He’s laughing so hard that he loses his own balance, his feet slipping out from under him as he crashes onto the ice next to Jisung.

“Bullshit!” Jisung declares, sitting up and glaring at Minho. “This is fucking bullshit. Minho, I take back everything I’ve ever said about your intelligence. This is the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

Minho is too busy laughing to respond, tears streaming down his face as he tries to catch his breath. “Oh my God,” he wheezes, clutching his stomach. “You should’ve seen your face.”

Jisung scowls, nudging Minho with his foot. “You’re a dick.”

You skate over to them, crouching down beside their tangled forms with a bemused smile. “You two okay, or do we need to call an ambulance?”

Jisung narrows his eyes at you, a mischievous glint flickering in them. “Oh, you think this is funny?”

Before you can answer, Jisung reaches out and grabs your wrist, yanking you down onto the ice with them. You land with an unceremonious thump between the two of them, your arms flailing as you try to brace yourself.

“Jisung!” you yelp, glaring at him as you sit up.

He grins, looking far too pleased with himself. “Now we’re all on the same level.”

Minho finally manages to compose himself enough to smirk at you. “Welcome to the chaos.”

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up. “You two are ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” Jisung says smugly, echoing your earlier words.

“Debatable,” you tease, but the warmth in your eyes betrays you.

Jisung shifts closer to you on the ice, his hands sliding to your waist as his dark eyes meet yours. There’s a flicker of mischief and something deeper in his gaze before he leans in, capturing your lips with his. The kiss is warm and insistent, his fingers digging into your sides just enough to ground you in the surreal moment.

Minho sits beside the two of you, his posture deceptively casual as he watches. His gaze flickers between your lips and Jisung’s hands on you, his teeth dragging across his bottom lip as he suppresses a groan. Something about seeing Jisung kiss you, your soft gasp, the way your body melts into the kiss, makes his skin tingle and his throat tighten.

Jisung pulls back slightly, his lips curving into a smug grin. “We could head to the staffroom,” he suggests, his eyebrows waggling.

You laugh breathlessly, still slightly dazed. “This jumpsuit isn’t exactly quickie-suitable.”

Minho clears his throat, smirking as he adjusts the collar of his shirt. “Besides, we’re doing this properly, you horny fiend,” he chides, his voice steady but teasing. “We’re not hooking up with her casually. We’re romancing her. Woo City Central.”

Jisung sighs dramatically, flopping onto his back. “You’re right,” he grumbles, though there’s no real disappointment in his tone.

You blink, the words catching your attention. “Not casual?”

Jisung lifts his head, grinning at you. “Oh, you haven’t figured it out? Pretty airhead, hmm?”

Minho chuckles, leaning closer as his hand brushes against your cheek. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re a lot dumber than you look, huh?”

Your lips part to protest, but before you can, Minho’s lips are on yours. His kiss is harder, more insistent, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer. It’s a sharp contrast to Jisung’s earlier kiss, where Jisung teased, Minho demands.

Jisung groans from beside you, his hand sliding down to palm himself through his trousers. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

Minho pulls back just enough to glance at Jisung, his lips curling into a smirk. “Bad Jisung,” he scolds, his tone mockingly stern. “Do you want to get frostbite on your dick?”

Jisung grins unapologetically, his eyes dark with heat. “I’ll happily risk it.”

Minho sighs, his forehead resting against yours as he brushes his thumb across your cheek. “We’re going out for food later, remember?”

“Oh yeah!” Jisung exclaims, perking up instantly as he sits up. “Dinner plans. Can’t forget those.”

Minho chuckles, finally pulling back but not before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “C’mon,” he says, standing and extending a hand to help you up. “We’ve got plenty of time for everything else later.”

Your cheeks burn as you let him pull you to your feet, your thoughts swirling. They weren’t kidding about the whole not casual thing and now, you’re not sure how you’ll survive the rest of the night.

The restaurant is tucked into a quiet corner of the city, its understated exterior hiding the cosy luxury inside. The three of you are escorted to a private room, the soft glow of hanging lanterns creating a warm and intimate atmosphere. At the centre of the low table is a built-in grill, the heat already radiating faintly.

You settle into the plush cushion across from Minho and Jisung, smoothing the fabric of your jumpsuit as you adjust your pearl necklace. The room is quiet except for the faint hum of conversation from other private rooms, giving you the perfect bubble of privacy.

Jisung leans back with a grin, pulling the menu toward him. “Alright, here’s the deal,” he says, his tone conspiratorial. “Minho’s love language is cooking. So just let him do everything, because if we try to help, he’ll hiss at us like a fucking feral cat.”

Minho raises an eyebrow, not bothering to deny it as he rolls up his sleeves. “I’m not that bad.”

“Bullshit,” Jisung says, pointing at Minho with the corner of the menu. “You’re worse. You’ll even feed us because that’s how you express love. But, and this is important, if you try to touch the chopsticks, he will swat your hands away. It’s like trying to take food from a tiger.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Got it. No chopsticks. Let Minho do his thing.”

Jisung nods approvingly and waves down the server. “We’ll take the bibimbap ingredients and a platter of assorted meats for grilling. Also, soju for me and her, and soda for the chef over here.”

Minho snorts as the server leaves, setting the table with plates and utensils before disappearing. “I like how I’m reduced to chef.”

Jisung leans over, kissing Minho’s cheek. “You’re my sexy chef.”

Minho rolls his eyes but smiles as he starts arranging the grilling tools. When the server returns with the soju and soda, Jisung pours a generous shot for you and himself, raising his glass. “To surviving ice skating with minimal injuries.”

“And to your future culinary masterpiece,” you add, clinking your glass against his before taking a sip.

Minho sets the platter of meats on the grill, the sizzle filling the room as the aroma of seasoned beef wafts through the air. He works methodically, flipping the strips of meat, his expression calm and focused.

Meanwhile, Jisung turns his attention to you. “Alright, random question time. What’s your favourite colour? And if you say blue just because you’re wearing it, I’m calling bullshit.”

You laugh, swirling your soju. “Green, actually.”

Jisung gasps dramatically. “Minho! Green! She’s practically your soulmate. Your plants would love her.”

Minho glances up from the grill, his lips twitching into a smirk. “I think my plants would approve.”

Jisung continues firing off questions. Your favourite ice cream flavour, your go-to karaoke song, your weirdest hobby. Somewhere along the line, the conversation shifts, and he dives headfirst into the Princess Diana conspiracy theories.

“So, hear me out,” Jisung says, leaning forward like he’s about to drop the secret of the century. “What if it wasn’t an accident? What if one of the British MI-”

“Oh, please,” you interrupt, waving your chopsticks. “Jeongin and I have been over this a million times. It was too convenient. The paparazzi were just a cover.”

Minho shakes his head, flipping the meat. “Are we really doing this?”

“Yes,” you and Jisung reply in unison, making Minho chuckle despite himself.

As the meat finishes grilling, Minho picks up a perfectly cooked strip with his chopsticks and holds it out to you. You instinctively reach out to take it, but Minho swats your hand away with a sharp flick of his fingers.

“Uh-uh,” he says, his voice amused. “Open.”

You blink, momentarily surprised, but you do as he says. Minho gently feeds you the meat, his eyes watching yours as you chew. It’s tender and flavorful, the perfect bite.

“Good?” he asks, his tone soft.

“Perfect,” you reply, feeling warmth bloom in your chest.

Jisung claps his hands together. “Alright, chef, my turn!” He leans forward eagerly, and Minho rolls his eyes but obliges, holding out a piece of meat for him as well.

Two hours and several bottles of soju later, the three of you spill out of the restaurant. The night air is cool against your flushed skin as you giggle uncontrollably, your arm hooked tightly around Minho’s. On his other side, Jisung stumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet before Minho steadies him with a firm grip.

“You two are ridiculous,” Minho mutters, but there’s a soft smile tugging at his lips as he watches you and Jisung dissolve into another fit of laughter.

“You love it,” Jisung says, slurring slightly as he leans heavily against Minho. His gold chain glints under the streetlights, and his grin is unabashedly cheeky.

“I think I like you, Min,” you declare dramatically, clutching his arm like he’s your lifeline.

“You’re adorable,” Minho replies dryly, his tone betraying the affection in his eyes. “Now let’s get you both into the car before you faceplant on the sidewalk.”

With one of you on each arm, Minho expertly guides you both to the car, his patience saintlike as you and Jisung trip over your own feet. By the time you reach the car, you’re hiccupping with laughter, and Jisung is humming a song that doesn’t seem to have an actual melody.

Minho sighs, opening the back door and gently manoeuvring Jisung inside first. “In you go, jagi,” he says, pushing him into the seat.

Jisung flops back with a dramatic groan, throwing an arm over his eyes. “This is so comfy,” he mutters.

Minho turns to you next, his hands firm but careful as he helps you into the seat beside Jisung. “Your turn,” he says, buckling your seatbelt like you’re a tipsy toddler. “Try not to kill each other back here, okay?”

You nod solemnly, which would be more convincing if you weren’t giggling the entire time. Minho finally shuts the door and rounds the car, sliding into the driver’s seat with a long-suffering sigh.

As he starts the engine, he hears a faint click from the backseat. Glancing in the rearview mirror, his eyes widen at the sight. You’ve unbuckled your seatbelt and climbed onto Jisung’s lap, your hands tangled in his hair as your mouths move together in a heated kiss. Jisung’s hands are on your hips, guiding them to rock against him as he groans into your mouth.

Minho bites his lip, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as he feels a rush of heat pool low in his stomach. “Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath, his eyes flicking between the road and the mirror.

Jisung’s fingers slide down to your ass, gripping it tightly as his other hand tangles in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. The sound of your soft whimpers and Jisung’s quiet groans fills the car, and Minho feels his self-control slipping with every passing second.

“You’re our girl now, yeah?” Jisung murmurs against your lips, his voice rough with want.

You nod silently, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps. Jisung’s grin is wicked as he presses another searing kiss to your lips, pulling you closer and making your hips grind harder against him.

From the front seat, Minho exhales sharply. “So much for romancing it,” he says, his voice strained as he adjusts himself in the driver’s seat.

Jisung pulls back just enough to smirk at Minho in the mirror. “I think she likes this way,” he says, his tone teasing as his hands tighten on your waist.

Minho tightens his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles white as he forces his eyes to stay on the road. But the sounds coming from the backseat are impossible to ignore.

Every soft whimper, every muffled groan, every wet, needy kiss reaches his ears and sends a sharp thrill through him. Despite himself, his gaze flicks to the rearview mirror, and what he sees makes his breath hitch.

Jisung’s hands are firm on your waist, guiding your movements as your hips roll against him. His head tips back briefly, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as his hips buck up in time with the motion. You’re straddling him, your hands buried in his hair as your lips move together in a desperate, messy kiss. Your soft whines are muffled against his mouth, your body arching as you cling to him like he’s the only thing grounding you.

Minho swallows hard, the heat in his chest spreading lower. “Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible over the sounds of your shared desperation.

Jisung shudders, his chest heaving as his grip on your hips tightens. “Fuck,” he groans, his voice rough and breathless. He presses his forehead against yours, his dark eyes glazed with need as his fingers dig into your skin. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

Minho forces himself to look away, his jaw clenched as he focuses on the road. The tension in his body is palpable, his breathing heavier than he’d like to admit. But just when he thinks he’s regained control, another sound from the backseat pulls his attention back to the mirror.

Jisung’s hips stutter beneath you as he lets out a strangled moan, his body shuddering as his grip on you falters momentarily. You follow seconds later, your head falling against his shoulder as a high-pitched whimper escapes your lips. Both of you slump against each other, your chests heaving as you come down from the high.

Your lips move lazily against Jisung’s in the aftermath, the kisses slow and sloppy but no less hungry. Minho exhales sharply, shifting in his seat as he struggles to ignore the heat coursing through him. “You two are going to fucking kill me,” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

Jisung glances up briefly, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. “Eyes on the road, Min,” he says, his voice rough but teasing as he presses another kiss to your temple.

Minho grits his teeth, refocusing on the drive. But the image of the two of you tangled together is seared into his mind, and he knows it’s going to be a long night in more ways than one.

Minho pulls into the driveway of the Alpha Phi frat house, parking neatly before cutting the engine. Without a word, he gets out and opens the back door, ushering you and Jisung out with a roll of his eyes as both of you stumble slightly, still giggling and leaning on each other for support.

“Upstairs,” Minho commands, his voice firm but laced with amusement as he hooks an arm around Jisung and places his other hand gently on the small of your back, steering you both toward the door. “Before you embarrass yourselves in front of anyone else.”

“We’d never,” Jisung protests, though his slurred words and tipsy wobble say otherwise.

Inside the house, the late hour has left the main floor quiet, and Minho takes advantage of the calm to herd you both up the stairs to his room. The cosy space smells faintly of fresh linen and the faint citrusy scent of his cologne. Minho flicks on the bedside lamp, casting a soft glow across the room.

“Clothes,” Minho says, rummaging through his dresser and pulling out two oversized t-shirts and pairs of sweatpants. He tosses one set to Jisung, who catches it with a wide grin, and holds the other out to you. “Put these on before you fall asleep in your fancy shit.”

You glance at the clothes, then back at him. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Minho replies, his voice exasperated but fond. “I’m not dealing with you whining about creased jumpsuits in the morning.”

You sigh dramatically, setting the t-shirt and sweatpants on the bed before reaching behind you to unzip your jumpsuit. Jisung is already halfway undressed, pulling the t-shirt over his head as his trousers drop to the floor. But when you peel off your jumpsuit, revealing a matching green lace bra and boyshorts, both Minho and Jisung freeze.

Minho’s lips part slightly, his eyes trailing over the intricate lace hugging your figure, the green contrasting beautifully against your skin. Beside him, Jisung groans audibly, his hand twitching at his side before it cups himself through his sweatpants. “Fuck,” Jisung mutters, his voice thick. “You’re so-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Minho cuts in sharply, though the edge in his tone is undercut by the way his gaze lingers.

You pretend not to notice as you pull on Minho’s t-shirt, the fabric falling just below the tops of your thighs. The sweatpants remain untouched on the bed. “Too warm for those,” you say, pointing at the pants as you climb onto the bed.

Jisung lets out a breathy laugh, tugging on his own t-shirt before flopping down beside you. “You’re killing us, you know that?”

Minho sighs, dragging a hand down his face before slipping off his beret and tossing it onto the dresser. “Okay, you two,” he says, his tone firm. “Bedtime.”

Jisung grins mischievously, crawling up the bed and pulling you with him. “Minho,” he says sweetly, his voice lilting with suggestion. “Let us help you.”

You nod in agreement, your eyes wide and teasing. “You deserve it.”

Minho’s lips twitch into a grin as he lets out a low chuckle. “Fine,” he says, climbing onto the bed and lying back against the pillows. “Go on, then.”

Jisung giggles as he turns to you, his hands sliding up to cradle your face as he pulls you in for a kiss. It’s soft at first, almost tender, but it quickly deepens as his lips move against yours with a growing urgency. The kiss is intoxicating, leaving you breathless as your fingers tangle in his hair.

Minho watches from beneath half-lidded eyes, his chest rising and falling steadily as his hand drifts to the waistband of his trousers. He palms himself lazily, his touch light as he watches you and Jisung kiss, the heat in his gaze burning brighter with every soft whimper and muffled groan.

Jisung’s lips leave yours for a moment, his breath ghosting against your cheek as he murmurs, “She’s perfect, isn’t she, Min?”

“Fucking perfect,” Minho replies, his voice low and rough as his hand presses harder against himself.

Minho lies back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling, his breathing still heavy and his body far too aware of its unmet need. The bed shifts slightly as Jisung and you snuggle closer to each other in your sleep, soft snores escaping both of you. He glances over and nearly chokes on a laugh at the sight.

You and Jisung, curled up like contented cats, are completely dead to the world. Your lips are slightly parted, your body curled instinctively into Jisung’s side. Jisung has one arm thrown haphazardly across your waist, his face smushed into the pillow, and both of you look blissfully unaware of Minho’s predicament.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Minho mutters, though his lips twitch with amusement. The situation is absurd, he’s rock hard, practically squirming, while his boyfriend and new girlfriend are passed out like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

A giggle escapes him, soft at first but quickly escalating into a full-body laugh. He claps a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking as he tries not to wake you or Jisung. The harder he tries to stop, the funnier it all seems, and soon he’s burying his face in the pillow to muffle the sound.

Eventually, Minho gives up on willing his problem away. “Jesus Christ,” he groans, sliding out of bed as quietly as possible. He grabs a clean towel from the dresser and pads into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

The warm spray of the shower does little to soothe him at first, his mind racing with images of you and Jisung in the car. He leans one hand against the tiled wall, the other sliding down as he exhales shakily.

The way you’d straddled Jisung, your hips rocking against him, the breathless sounds you’d both made. It all plays in his mind like a vivid, erotic film. Minho bites his fist, stifling a groan as he gives in to the memory. His breath comes in uneven pants, the heat of the water cascading over his shoulders doing nothing to cool the fire coursing through him.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his movements quick and desperate as he chases relief. His mind is a whirlwind of you, Jisung, and the heat that had radiated off both of you. It doesn’t take long before he shudders, his knees nearly buckling as he leans heavily against the wall.

The water washes away the evidence of his release, and he exhales deeply, feeling the tension finally leave his body. “Better,” he murmurs to himself, shaking his head as he shuts off the water.

Minho dries off quickly, pulling on a pair of soft sweatpants before heading back into the bedroom. The sight that greets him pulls a small smile to his lips. Jisung and you are exactly as he left you, tangled together in a heap of limbs and blankets.

Carefully, Minho tucks the blankets around the two of you, his hands gentle as he adjusts the covers. He hesitates for a moment, watching your peaceful expressions, before climbing into the bed on your other side. He manoeuvres himself so that you’re nestled between him and Jisung, the three of you forming a warm, protective cocoon.

As he drapes an arm over your waist, his fingers brushing against Jisung’s, a wave of contentment washes over him. The night has been chaotic, messy, and entirely unexpected but it’s also felt right in a way that Minho hasn’t experienced before.

He presses a soft kiss to your temple, then to Jisung’s shoulder, before settling in. “Goodnight, loves,” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the rhythmic sounds of your breathing.

The sun streams through the windows of the Alpha Phi frat house, casting golden light across the hallway where Jeongin, Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Felix, and Seungmin are gathered, whispering and snickering like schoolchildren. They’re huddled just outside Minho’s door, their curiosity about the previous night reaching a fever pitch.

“You think they fucked?” Hyunjin asks, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with mischief.

“Of course, they didn’t,” Seungmin mutters, rolling his eyes. “Minho’s too much of a perfectionist. It’d have to be candles, music, and some five-star hors d'oeuvres first.”

Felix giggles, clutching Jeongin’s arm. “But what if they did? Imagine the chaos.”

Chan, ever the ringleader, presses a finger to his lips to silence them. “Shut the fuck up,” he hisses, pushing the door open just a crack to peek inside.

What he sees makes him freeze for half a second before a wide grin spreads across his face. He motions for the others to look, and one by one, they peer through the door, their laughter barely contained.

Inside, you’re sandwiched between Jisung and Minho, still fast asleep. Jisung’s arm is draped over your waist, his face tucked into your hair, while Minho’s hand rests protectively on your hip, his body curled against yours. The blanket is haphazardly thrown over the three of you, and the peaceful scene is both heartwarming and hilarious given the frat’s usual chaos.

“Oh my God,” Jeongin whispers, pulling out his phone. “We need pictures. This is too good.”

One by one, they start snapping photos, their phones clicking softly as they try to stifle their giggles. Hyunjin nearly drops his phone when Changbin elbows him, his laughter threatening to burst free.

Suddenly, Jisung stirs, his face scrunching as he lets out a low groan. “What the fuck…” he mumbles, blinking blearily as he turns toward the doorway. His hungover brain processes the scene slowly, but when it clicks, he frowns deeply.

“What the fuck are you guys doing?” Jisung grumbles, his voice hoarse. He shifts slightly, making sure the blanket covers you properly, shielding your barely dressed form from prying eyes. “Piss off.”

“Good morning, sunshine,” Chan teases, snapping one last picture before ducking out of sight.

Jisung groans again, rubbing his temple. “I hate all of you.”

The commotion is enough to wake Minho, who sits up with a start, his sharp eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene. He spots the group of frat brothers clustered outside the door, phones in hand, and his jaw tightens.

“Jeongin!” Minho barks, throwing the blanket off as he leaps out of bed. “You little shits!”

Jeongin squeals, bolting down the hallway with the others close behind. Minho snatches a handful of tissues from the bedside table as he gives chase, his bare feet slapping against the wooden floor.

“Minho, no!” Jeongin yells, laughing so hard he nearly trips. “It was Chan’s idea!”

“You’re all dead!” Minho shouts, his voice echoing down the hall.

He catches Hyunjin first, tackling him to the ground and straddling him with surprising ease. “Open wide,” Minho says, his voice deceptively calm as he shoves the tissues into Hyunjin’s mouth.

“Mmmph!” Hyunjin protests, flailing his arms, but Minho grabs his wrists and pins them to the floor.

“You should’ve thought about this before you joined the fucking paparazzi,” Minho says, his tone dripping with mock menace.

“Min!” Jisung’s voice calls from the bedroom, cutting through the chaos. “Can you start on coffee and breakfast? You’ve got two hungover lovers in here!”

Minho freezes, his expression shifting from murderous to begrudgingly affectionate in a heartbeat. “Of course,” he shouts back, releasing Hyunjin with a pat on the cheek. “You’re lucky,” he mutters before heading back toward his room.

Jisung’s voice follows him. “We’ll be down in ten!”

Minho shakes his head, chuckling softly as he makes his way downstairs. He pulls out ingredients from the fridge, eggs, bacon, and bread for toast, moving with practised efficiency. As the smell of sizzling bacon fills the kitchen, he feels a sense of contentment settle over him.

Minho is in the kitchen, carefully plating up scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and golden toast. The coffee pot hums softly as it finishes brewing, and he pours two steaming mugs, knowing full well his hungover partners are going to need it. The sound of shuffling footsteps and soft groans pulls his attention to the doorway.

Jisung appears first, his hair a chaotic mess and sunglasses perched on his nose despite the dim lighting inside. Behind him, you shuffle in, similarly dishevelled and wearing one of Minho’s oversized basketball shorts, the waistband tied in a haphazard knot to keep them from falling. You’ve also got sunglasses on, though they don’t quite hide the exhaustion etched into your features.

Minho sets the plates down with a smirk. “Look at you two,” he coos, his tone dripping with faux sweetness. “My poor, hungover babies.”

“Shut up,” Jisung mumbles, collapsing onto the couch and immediately reaching for one of the coffee mugs. “I can hear colours right now, and I don’t like it.”

You flop down beside Jisung, groaning as you grab the other coffee. “Min, why did you let us drink so much?”

“I didn’t let you do anything,” Minho replies, amused, as he carries the plates to the coffee table and sits beside you both. He starts eating without ceremony, entirely unaffected by the previous night’s chaos.

You and Jisung nurse your coffee in silence for a moment before Jisung looks over at Minho, squinting through his sunglasses. “Hey, Min,” he starts, his voice scratchy. “What did you do last night? We fell asleep pretty early.”

Minho glances at him, entirely unbothered, as he sips his coffee. “Jerked it in the shower.”

Both you and Jisung burst into laughter, the sound unrestrained but quickly turning into groans as the movement jolts your heads. You clutch your temples, wincing. “Fuck, it hurts to laugh,” you complain, leaning into Minho’s shoulder for support.

Minho chuckles, setting his mug down. “That’s what you get for overdoing it.” He stands and walks to the window, pulling the curtains closed to block out the offending sunlight. “Better?”

“Much,” Jisung says, his voice muffled as he leans back against the couch, coffee mug still clutched in his hands.

The three of you settle into the couch, the aroma of breakfast wafting around the room. You and Jisung pick at the food, your movements slow and deliberate, while Minho continues eating with the precision of someone who didn’t wake up feeling like death.

When the food is gone, you and Jisung instinctively lean into Minho, your bodies slotting against his like puzzle pieces. He wraps an arm around each of you, pulling you closer as he grabs the remote. “How about we put on something soothing?” he suggests, scrolling through the options until he lands on Bridgerton.

“Scandal and corsets,” Jisung mumbles. “Perfect.”

The room falls into a comfortable silence, the soft sounds of the show mingling with the occasional hum of Minho’s approval as he strokes both your heads. His fingers are gentle as they thread through your hair, the motion lulling you and Jisung into a haze of comfort.

One by one, you both fall asleep, your breathing evening out as you curl into Minho’s chest. He glances down at you and Jisung, his expression softening as he adjusts the blankets to ensure you’re both covered. His arms tighten around you, his touch protective and tender.

“You two are going to be the death of me,” he murmurs quietly, his lips brushing against the crown of your head.

Despite his words, there’s no trace of complaint in his voice. Minho sits there, holding you both like you’re the most precious things in the world, the quiet hum of contentment filling the space.

For the first time in a long time, everything feels exactly as it should be.

General Taglist: @nightmarenyxx

[startheskelaton]

Sorry to bother you but I gave a question about Slundblaster.

Is he related to Soundwave or Shockwave or both???

Since I saw your SG post about them calling him their son.

So would that make Soundblaster and Sparkplug cousins or something else? Im really confused, btw I love your character designs in other fandoms. Keep up

Okay so depending on the continuity, characters backgrounds will change.

In the main AU, Shockwave had feelings for Soundwave. But Soundwave was devoted to Megatron, Shockwave was very salty. He would then go on the artificial create a new version of Soundwave that would be his ideal version. However since it’s Shockwave we’re talking about, the new creature was… kinda fucked up looking (almost looking more like Shockwave then Soundwave). Thus creating Soundblaster.

No actually relation to Soundwave himself because the point of his character is to be what Shockwave thought Soundwave was like, not what he actually was.

Now going to Shattered glass Soundblaster.

In this, Soundwave and Shockwave are absolutely devoted to one another. Neither of them ever having any romantic feelings for Megatron, just being his good friends. SB is also a weird test tube baby but it was with good intentions. Sound and Shock though the human concept of “a child that’s like it’s two parents genetically” was rad as fuck and just went with it. As to why he looks like that…. Yet again, it’s Shockwave.

In the OG universe, Soundblaster has no tangible connection to Soundwave, and in the SG universe, Sparkplug has no tangible connection to Soundwave.

I know it’s very complicated but I’m just trying to make sure there’s no weird implications going on.

[midnight-mourning]

Ahem- noticed on discord ya mentioned you're short two days... Mayhaps I can throw out a suggestion hehe >:3 (if there's still space <3)

Call it a bit silly, but I feel like a Pirate AU would be such an interesting story besides also just loving em. It's Christmas/close to Christmas of all days, and they should be able to celebrate, even if they live on a ship! (And plunder but semantics.) It can be in any scenario really so here's a handful for you to play around with! (Choose whatever you want lol)

Y/n and the crew making a makeshift celebration on ship with whatever they have on hand without telling the DCA captain for a surprise (gone wrong? Gone right?). Going to a port and finding a town mid celebration, everyone joining the festivities (and mayhaps some issues arise). The struggles of getting a gift to a successful captain who could buy anything they want. Stopping by a nearby island to set up their own special celebration away from trouble.

The possibilities are endless on the open seas hehe!

Holidays on the Open Seas

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 32: Bonus Story❄️❄️

ahhh Lucky. Lucky, Lucky, Lucky. Your brain is massive, and you have also awoken a buried hyperfixation of mine, I do not regret the person I've become for this, i went for a bit of tension to make the fluff that much sweeter

anywho~

enjoy this bonus story all! Starting out the new year strong ^-^

Prompt: See Above

Word Count: 2747

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

You take a deep breath, inhaling the salty sweet air as you stand on the main deck, leaning against the railing. From here, you can just make out the port of Providence, getting only closer and closer as you sail. This would be your last stop in the colonies before heading south for the remainder of winter. You enjoyed the cold weather personally, but it was no good for sailing, or pirating, for that matter.

The crew is in good spirits as they prepare for docking, chatting amongst themselves excitedly about what they'll do once they get ashore again. You were only staying for a few days or so, but it would be enough for your purposes, it'd been your idea to stop after sailing over from Africa after all.

You see, your intention was to use this chance in order to get you captain, well, captains a gift for the upcoming holidays. Despite likely being on open water when the day of would arrive, you still wanted to get them something and celebrate. Problem was, you were struggling to come up with ideas. How do you get something for someone who could quite literally buy, cheat, or steal anything they could ever desire?

It was tough, and you were certainly stumped, so you were hoping that while pursuing the streets of Providence you'd find the perfect gifts for them.

Speaking of your captain, you glance up to where he stands near the helm, and unusually solemn look across his sunny features.

Over the past few days he'd been uncharacteristically avoidant, to you specifically. Which wouldn't be an issue if you weren't his quartermaster, making direct communication between the two of you incredibly important. That was ignoring the fact that you were good friends outside of your positions. And of course, your long-withstanding crush on both Captain Sun & Captain Moon. Having never acted on your feelings due to your own responsibilities to your ship and the crew.

Sun's gaze meets your own and your heart races from being caught in the act. Still, he gives you a small grin of acknowledgement, but it doesn’t quite match up with his usual cheeriness. It worries you, as much as Moon's now short, blunt, conversations he has with you. A stark contrast to your usual nightly discussions.

You turn back out to sea with a sigh, maybe they're just concerned about the length of your stay, or of the authorities being less than welcoming or the likes.

You force yourself to stop worrying about it for the time being, especially when to your and the crew's delight, Providence is mid-celebration for Christmas. The streets are lined with decorations, festival crowds fill every corner—making it that much easier to blend in—and music lofts through the air. Everyone is in merry spirits, and the festive energy rubs off on each of you. Even Sun cracks a smile at the sight, though, he's still not talking to you, to your disappointment.

"You're readin' too much it into it, mon ami." Monty tells you as you peruse the streets together. "He's probably just concerned until we make it back south."

Of your options, he was surprisingly the best one ask when came to searching for gifts. Freddy or Chica may accidentally snitch, while Roxy would probably end up trying to talk you into a gift that would be better for her than it would be your captains.

You sigh, stopping for a moment to peek inside a store. "Yeah, so am I, but if that's the case we should be talking more, not less. It, hurts. But maybe that's just my heart talking."

"That heart of yours is gonna be the death of me, honnement." Monty scoffs as you once again choose to move to another store. "Just tell them already, ouais? There is no reason to believe they do not feel the same."

You rest your hand on the glass pane of this shop's window. Inside rests several displays of stunning jewelry, which ironically, would be ill-suited for your captains. Still, you can't help but admire the pieces, in particular a necklace featuring a sun & moon charm, dotted with tiny emeralds and sapphires. A shame you only have enough money to buy something for the two of them, and it's too open of a place to snatch it up for yourself.

You sigh, shaking your head. "With how the past few days are going, I'm not so sure."

Despite your lack of luck finding a gift, you do your best to enjoy and partake in the festivities. You join in the gaiety, drinking and dancing away your troubles. It's a lovely time. That is, until it's interrupted.

You see, you weren't foolish. A bit tipsy, yes, but still aware of your surroundings. And in your surroundings was  a certain captain, glare on you all throughout the day as you had fun with your crew and the townies.

It comes to a head when day shifts to night, and mid-dance with an—admittedly—handsome stranger, you're separated by a firm hand on your shoulder.

Utterly confused, you trace the hand back to its owner, seeing a scowling Captain Moon.

Before you can protest he speaks, words gritted out and low. "I think that's enough for tonight, don't you, Nightingale?"

"I, suppose?" You're a bit in shock, honestly.

Moon nods, dragging you away from your dance partner. "Good. Glad we're in agreement."

You stumble along beside him for a moment, starting to come to your senses and anger boiling up in place of your confusion.

"Hey, what exactly is the issue? I don't understand—woah! Put me down!"

Moon adjusts his grip on your legs and back, carrying you bridal style back to the inn you were staying at for the night. "No. You're stumbling and stuttering your words."

"I, because I'm flustered and you're throwing me around like a ragdoll, that's why!" You beat your fists against his chest. "You know, I'm getting real tired of how you two have been acting the past few days. We're supposed to be in this together!" Your tone turns soft, wounded, vulnerable. "At least, I thought we were."

Nothing but the sound of Moon's footsteps against the cobblestone street. Glancing up, you see he's still got that same frown on his face but his eyes seem, conflicted.

When you get to the inn and he shifts to Sun, his counterpart keeps that same expression, ignoring your questions as he passes by the room you were going to be sharing with Roxy and Chica. When you head upstairs, it clicks he's taking you to the nicer room they'd rented for themselves.

He drops you on the bed unceremoniously, then heads for the nearby chair and collapses in it. Seeming intent to get straight to resting without further discussion.

You realize it's exactly that when he mumbles. "Goodnight, Bluebird. Get some rest. We're leaving at sun up."

Sun closes his eyes, and you're left staring at him with utter confusion (and partially concealed frustration) in the glow of a dying fire. When you realize that he's actually gone to bed you huff, and make a fuss over kicking off and tossing your boots in his general direction, followed by your remaining outer clothes. Which, you also toss his way. Sun's  brow furrows slightly at the noise, but otherwise ignores you.

You toss over in the bed, it's creaks under your weight, and after a bit of extra tossing and turning, you wind up falling asleep. Somehow.

The next morning, Sun keeps his word, and you're leaving town at the crack of dawn to the displeasure of every crew member, including yourself.

Now, you're not just upset, but angry with the two. You're still going to find them the perfect gifts for the upcoming holiday, but now you're mad about it.

So, what's a quartermaster to do when it's the holidays and their captains' are being difficult? Why, hammer down on the festivities and make them get their acts together, of course.

Before you'd left town, you'd gotten a few of your crew together and sent them out to gather supplies, using whatever means they chose; legal or otherwise. Then, when you got out to sea, you reviewed what materials you had and began plotting.

You'd  be in the open ocean when Christmas finally came, not likely to arrive in the Caribbean for at least several weeks. Therefore, any and all celebrations would have to happen on the ship. And you were going to make them count.

The crew knew the plan, and they followed your lead when it came to preparations. Everyone knew their place, now it was just a waiting game.

In the meantime, tensions rose further between you and the captains. After that night they'd tried for an apology, but you were still angry, and busy with planning that you initially blew them off. Which you'd argue was fair after how they'd been ignoring you. Now you'd catch them staring, remorse worn heavy on their features. Still, you kept your distance, mainly so you wouldn't let anything slip about your surprise. You did stay cordial though, you had a job to do still, after all.

As for your gifts, you'd struck up an idea one night and when you realized you had the supplies for it, got to work. It wasn't easy, you weren't a woodcarver, but you tried. Made a mess of your hands though, from how many times you'd nicked yourself in the process.

You almost got caught one night, walking through the ship's belly back to your room, after getting patched up by Chica. Again.

You're passing by a dark corner when a hand suddenly snatches your wrist. You gasp whipping to look at the culprit and seeing red eyes staring at you from the dark.

Your surprise turns to irritation. "Something wrong, captain?"

"What have you been up to?" Moon's words are sharp.

You keep your cool, chin tilting up. "I don't know what you're referring to."

"Don't play coy, Star. Not with this." He steps forward, Sun's rays popping out as he does. "What's happened to your hands, Sunshine?"

You notice how the grip on your wrist is less a grip and more a gentle hold, his thumb soothing over were one of the bandages wraps around the back of your hand.

It causes two things to happen, your face heats up, and you have the urge to snatch your hand back, feeling they have no right to be so soft with you. "That's not your business."

"You're our—our quartermaster, of course it is." Sun shakes his head, frowning. "Why do you have to be so difficult?"

You scoff. "Me? I'm not the one that's been—" You cut yourself off, turning away. "Forget it. Goodnight, Captain. I'll see you tomorrow. Have a nice rest of your evening. Or Christmas Eve, I should say."

You pull away then, leaving him alone in the hall. Had you looked back, you would have seen how his hand was still outstretched, face filled with longing and regret.

You work late into the night to finish your gifts, and rise early in the morning to enact your plan. With the help of the crew, you decorate the entire ship inside and out with the decorations you'd gotten back in town. They'd even managed to snag a Tree, propping it up by the main mast, it's beautiful, but Providence is a sea side  town, meaning they—likely—stole it out of someone's home. Oh well.

By the time the Captains wake up, the entire ship is filled with holiday activities from the main deck down to the mess, where Chica works on making a the perfect holiday dinner. Again, you didn't give them that much to spend, so you can only assume some poor family—or families rather—is missing out this morning.

Sun's eyes are wide as he steps out onto the deck, looking around with an awe that you've missed.

Taking a deep breath, you step toward him as he looks to you, tinge of a confused grin on his face. "What's all this now?"

"It's Christmas, Captain." You shrug. "You think we weren't going to celebrate?"

He looks around again, eyes stopping on the tree with a laugh. "I suppose I did."

"You were mistaken, then." You hold out your gift to him, ducking your head. "Now, take this before I change my mind." Or get too embarrassed, you think to yourself.

You can hear the shock in Sun's voice. "I, for me?"

"Both of you, actually. But their a set so it's just easier for you to open both. I  hope Moon won't be too upset by that."

Sun takes the gifts and you step back, face starting to burn now as you wait. "He can deal with it. Thank you." He looks down at the gift, then back to you, smile soft. "It means a lot."

"Yeah, yeah just open it already and end my suffering. My hands need closure."

A second of recognition in his gaze. Then, with careful precision, Sun opens your gifts. Inside the cloth are two small wooden figurines, carved painstakingly by you. A bluebird, and a nightingale, one for each captain, respectively.

"I thought you two could use a reminder of who's in charge around here. So now you have something to keep that'll maybe make you think of me." You look down to the deck, fiddling with your hands. "I guess it's a little silly, since it's not like I'm going anywhere anytime soon but you two are horrible to try and shop for and—"

Your ramble is cut off by a tight hug. Sun shifts his hold to wrap around your waist, head resting against your neck.

"Thank you, love. They're wonderful."

Before you can say anything he pulls back, and with his free hand grips your chin, leaning down to kiss you. He stops after a moment, eyes half-lidded as his thumb rubs against your cheek.

The crew all around you starts cheering. Whopping and hollering as you duck your head and march up to the helm, hand held tightly in Sun's as you drag him with you.

"You don't hear a thing, got it?" You point your finger at the helmsman, who nods quickly before turning forward again.

Sun's chuckling turns your attention back to him.

"If I'd known you'd be flustered I would have done that somewhere more private. My sincerest of apologies."

You scoff. "I'm more than flustered, I'm furious. Who are you calling me 'love' after how you've been acting?"

"You're not wrong." He ducks his head, now his turn to be embarrassed. "I owe you an explanation. We both do."

You cross your arms, leaning against the railing.

Sun sighs. "We care about you, I care about you. A lot, Bluebird. A dangerous amount, to be frank. And we both came to that realization quite recently, despite feeling this way for some time. And it, scared me, scared us both. If something were to happen to you, because of us, because of what we do." Sun shakes his head. "I could never forgive myself."

Your sternness softens. He continues. "We shouldn't have pushed you away, should have tried to explain. I suppose we thought that avoiding you meant these feelings would go away. It was a foolish endeavor, I see that now." He laughs softly. "And when we saw you, without us, with someone else back at the festival, it made us realize that we don't want to lose you, don't want to let you go. Even though we know the risks that come with that."

"Sun—"

He shakes his head. "But, if nothing else, I'm sorry. As is Moon."

You stare at him a moment, taking it all in. Then, you sigh, and open your arms. "You are foolish, the two of you. But your my fools, so come here."

Sun all but leaps into your arms, wrapping his own around you to pick you up into a spin. You laugh, arms going around his neck as you kiss him once more.

This time, you ignore the heckling of your crew down before, instead enjoying this moment for what it is. You'll worry about being teased for the rest of your days later. For now, you have a captain to kiss.

Two captains, if you have anything to say about it

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you for the lovely request @luckyyyduckyyy!!! As you can see i had a lot of fun with it, decided to have a combo of ideas bc they were all SO good, hope that it flowed properly despite that ^-^

Thanks for reading!

Masterpost link

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info, you can also dm me!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay

[ilikelookingatthings]

I think what bothers me is both sides are sort of right but I haven't seen people bring up the actual issue.

Mari IS valid for being upset. She gave chat a heads up she wouldn't be in Paris and he ASSURED her that he's be in Paris and guve her a signal with the vibrating toy if the city got attacked. She trusted that he could minimize damage until she got there and he did seem to a bit goofy when she asked him.

The city was in danger and got PERMANENT that he either could have mitigated.. .or the sentibeing wouldn't have been shut down if he had been there to battle it so she would have had time to go... if he had warned her she could have watched the news herself to speed back as well.

So from her perspective he did break her trust and was careless and it was very incharacter fir her to snap at him and spiral a bit and her temper coming out because that's what happens when she's worried. She tends to exaggerate hkw she feels to make a point especially because she misunderstood and thought chat wasn't taking it seriously. And normally chat is the one who blunces back...the one with stringer patience and thicker skin who doesn't give up...who doesn't seem to take things that personally. She's snapped at him before after all and he's always known to not take it that personally.

In Orgins the dude messed up along with her but he still went out there and trusted she'd show up and in her plan. When she lost fu and accidentally led hawkmoth to have all the other miraculouses. In gamer 2.0 when she was pissed and impatient and snapping at him e stated focus on the battle and didn't snap back and helped her get in a better mood to fight max. Heck in the specialize assumed he was being sneaky trying to give her a yellow flower despite her already turning him down so she thinks ge doesn't take her words that seriously....where in fact he was sincere in it being a friendship flower abd when it was rejected he rolled with it and offered himself flowers.

It makes complete sense for mari to snap at him cuz she is worried about Paris and personal damage and she misunderstood chat trying to focus on the battle infront of them as him not taking her concerns seriously. And nari's main issue in the special os she underestimates the impact she and her words has on people.

What bothers me is the show made a point that it was PLAGG'S idea not to tell ladybug. Adrien was willing to give up his chance to go on the field trip with his friends to fulfill his promise as unlike mari IN Startrain....master fu never told him he shouldn't miss out on important things just to be chat/LB. Adrien was worried LB would be disappointed in him but plagg...instead of reassuring Adrien LB would understand....that ladybug WOULDN'T be disappointed in adrien....plagg instead advised Adrien to just go on the trip and not feel guilty for going...that he could watch the news and speed back if a attack happened and avoid disappointing LB.

A plan that WOULD have worked probably if adrien and mari weren't trapped by the two American super teenagers trying to ship mari and adrien due to mari's feelings.

(and don't give me 'mari was trying to get over adrien so it doesn't count' when mari's REAL main motive of adrien going on this trip is because SHE wanted to go on a trip with adrien and she didn't want him alone with lila. Mari had no closure, she stared at his posters still and she even talked alot about adrien to luka when luka helped drive her to the pick up cuz she was late)

And more chat was trying to focus on fighting the villian infront of them so they could get that done quickly so they could go speed run to paris...he even asked for a plan and asked if they could discuss why he was in newyork later.

But mari assumed from the get go that chat DIDN'T have a good excuse for going to paris. Instead of choosing to rip into him or interrogate him later and focus on the task at hand. She knows you can't give too many details about civilian lives yet expected chat to tell her specifics mid battle. When chat asked for a plan to defeat the bad guy quicker she instead said NO, that she can't trust him anymore or work with him in the MIDDLE of him fighting...which is what distracted him and got him thrown and got anon catasclysmed.

And is what took up even more time!

Its definitly incharacter for mari to spiral more abd be upset and lash out because chat normally is the positive one who bounces back, takes it on the chin and finds a positive.

So it makes complete sense when CHAT understandably spirals because he catacyslmed someone, adult heros ripped into him and chased them, ladybug ripped into him and Paris took permanent damage...and mari doesn't realize how bad that is and doesn't try to drag him out of that because she normally doesn't have to and she is distracted by her iwn issues.

What bothers me is though is plagg never fesses up that it was plaggs idea not to tell ladybug. Mari doesn't think maybe chat had a good reason for coming to newyork cuz hawkmoth and akumas showed up there. She doesn't think aboit how SHE was the one who distracted him in the middle of the fight, refused to work together or how him leaving was due to her words of saying she doesn't trust hjm and can't work with him anymore and hkw she didn't refuse what those adult heros said at least.

Like....Mari gets chat back of course but she tells him to never leave like that again and that she can't be LB without him(or that she doesn't want to be cuz she threaten to give up bring LB)without acknowledging her words or how she distracted him. No plagg correcting her that it was plagg's idea or assumjng that chat must have followed hawkmoth here once she found out a akuma was around. No ankn feeling bad because by trapping him in yhe museum he couldn't rush back.

And it's not helped that the only one who seemed to back up adrien was right to want to go on the trip and fight for it was marinette. Bur WE know her real motive was due to her iwn crush and not wanting him around lila. So when his dad sends for adrien to go back to Paris which is adding another layer to adrien already feeling like it was a mistake to put his wants first to go on the trip..that adrien was selfish....Mari niot defending for adrien to stay....not even saying she's glad he came felt like shs backed gabe up.

And it feels more frustrating because we know the only reason adrien got to come was mari's meddling gave gabe a excuse to reconsider.

On one hand...it is consistant with mari flaws that she underestimates the impact of her words on adrien and chat and she sometimes misses exactly what went wrong but trying g to fix it anyways.

And her not actally understanding the right reason and everything...and accidentally falsely backing up that adrien was selfish for going actually is good set up for adrien to get more insecure in following seasons and not really understand his importance and why LB doesn't trust him with more important things. She went for the quickest way to get Chat back...semi threatening him to get him back. Just as gabe truies to drag adfien back quickly for safety since hawkmlth wss going to attack new york were he felt thevquickest way was. Y being blunt and unreasonable and reversing his decision even though GABE is the one making the danger and its not adrien being in the wrong.

And I GET the importance of the lesson that you can't just leave and that mistakes can be forgiven and chat probably should have had more faith LB didn't REALLY mean it. Not project his stuff with the dad...and it was still his choice not to tell LB and she had a right to be upset.

But even without his dad issues his logic for giving up his miraculous makes perfect sense with how LB refused to work with him to fight the bad guy before, he killed someone, adults said he wasn't worthy and LB not stopping his spiral at all. He didn't make excuses and she knows this is one of his fears from sandboy!

And itz frustrating because we know how serious he is! And it's nice they acknowledge mistakes happen and he's brought back....but God it was frustrating because no acknowledgment it was plagg's idea? Or that he was trapped in the museum and couldn't leave? No realization of why it would be understandable he believed her harsh words? Or that her assuming he wasn't taking the fight seriously caused issues a by elevating the fight and distracted him to get thrown? Heck mari never even got to tell adrien she wanted him yo stay or that she was glad he came...they sent him a cute picture to include him later but still!

No hint from anon his plan would have worked if ge hadn't been trapped on that museum?

And people tend to rip into adrien or mari in tge special. What about kagami and luka....but adrien was sincerely touched mari backed up his want to go on the trip when everyone gave him condolences. Adrien was grateful to mari so him wanting to hand out more with his friend makes sense! He thinks mari likes luka! Adrien isn't thinking of any of that as romantic! And he thinks mari can barely handle being next to him on a plane despite her claiming she isn't into him to everyone else!

And the joke with the flower js the fact chat was sincere in it being about friendship because unlike mari he had closure by confessing and he wasn't lying about his feelings....but could still choose how he wanted to water each plant/relationship while mari/LB assumed chat wasn't actually moving on because of how denial and terrible SHE js with her own crush/feelings. Contrasting how they both handle things.

Alli can think about is how adrien was used to validating his own feelings/views by himself but when he thoighf mari was backing him up...the influence she had over him in reased so when she didn't fight to validate jt again when his dad tried to take him home....adrien didn't fight it the way he normally would by himself after that despite Nino's protests.. especially considering mari was portrayed as someone who could get through to gabriel.

I mean in mari's defense she was diwn and in shock over losing chat.....but it did remind me that her support for adrien was more due to her own feelings rather than ACTUALLY aboit his right to go on the trip...even if she used the better reason to validate her support before to cover her real motive....which IS VERY incharacter and common for mari. And how if anon wasn't there and knew...bare minimum getting chat back would have taken longer because mari again didn't think about it from the other person's perspective.

Also does no one bring up tikki knew his identity and didn't say anything ir think anything about mari fighting to get adrien on the trip? Unless I'm wrong and owlman happened later.

Once again, Adrien is the sweetest kid ever, and this scene hurt

[whereispearlescentmoon]

Hello!

I’ve been on tumblr for a while now and have just recently started posting - specifically Pearl fanart - but I have no idea how main tagging works. does it have something to do with the first tag? Can there be more than one?

Just, any basic thing people should know about main tagging.

I would really love to know in order to make sure I don’t accidentally cross any boundaries Pearl has put down.

Main tagging just means tagging something with “Pearlescentmoon”. It’s considered the “main” tag because it’s all encompassing. Pearl herself is on tumblr and checks that tag regularly, which is why she has asked that any shipping content of her not be tagged with “Pearlescentmoon”. She’s also asked that people are careful about specifying when stuff is about her character rather than her.

The big tags to keep in mind when making ship are “hermitshipping”, “empiresshipping” and “trafficshipping”. Hermitshipping for Hermitcraft, Empires for Empires SMP and trafficshipping for the Life series. Another one is “TrafficYuri” which is specifically for any combo of Gem, Lizzie, Cleo, and/or Pearl. If someone blocks all of those tags, they generally stop seeing most of the ship stuff. And If someone looks for these tags they will find all of their shipping goodies!

Generally speaking the main ship people have for Pearl is Gem. The ship tag for this is “GemPearl”. The platonic tag for when you are just drawing the two of them as friends is “Shiny Duo”. Sometimes people will tag a post as both when it is more ambiguous whether it’s shippy or not. Sometimes people tag explicitly romantic stuff as Shiny Duo, which Pearl has said is kind of up to the fandom to police on our own, which is totally fair.

The only ship I personally post, and one that I feel is fine to go in the main “Pearlescentmoon” tag, is Pearl and her irl partner, Karnasas. The ship name for them is either PearlKarn, Pearlnasas, or Karl, I choose Karl cause it’s funnier.

Generally speaking these are the other tags for the most popular ships vs friendships vs sibling headcanon (from what I have been told so I might be wrong or missing somethings):

Pearl and Cleo: Ship-Pearleo, Friendship-Moonrot (I’ve seen this used for shipping too)

Pearl and Tango: Ship-PearlTek, Friendship-Ruby Duo, Sibling- Firemail Siblings(I’ve only ever seen this used once but it was on the big Pearl family headcanon bracket)

Pearl and Etho: Ship-Pearltho, they didn’t have a platonic duo name I could find

Pearl, Etho, and Tango: Ship-Poly PET, Friendship- PET Postal/The Deepfrost Court

Pearl and Scar: Ship-PearlScar or ScarPearl, Friendship-Sunflower Duo, Siblings- Snowblings

Pearl and Scott: Ship-MajorMoon, Friendship- Galaxy Duo

Pearl and Grian: Ship-GriPearl, Friendship and Siblings-Skyblings

Pearl and Mumbo: Ship-MumPearl/celestial nonsense. They don’t have a platonic duo name I can find.

Pearl and Sausage: Ship-MythicalMoon, Friendship-Arena Duo, Family-Arena Cousins/Siblings

Pearl and Lizzie: Ship and Friendship- Shadowmoon

[hollowed-theory-hall]

I'd love to know your thoughts on the Gaunts in Hogwarts Legacy. I loved Ominis as a character, and the story of his family was interesting, but I'd really love an in-universe explanation for how they get to the state they are at when Tom is born in less than what... 40ish years? At most? How exactly do they go from multiple family members functional enough to attend Hogwarts to barely able to speak English (or seemingly use magic) that quickly?

So, the reason I didn't put Ominis and the Gaunts in my big canon contradictions in the HL post, is becouse I can in fact headcanon my way into Ominis' existence making sense (kinda). We only need one big factor that would allow for a very fast decline and we have one — inbreeding.

I mentioned this already here, but Marvolo speaks like he remembers the influence his family once had. Not only that, but he's different from his kids. He acts more like a person who can be somewhat reasoned with than both his barely more than squib children who don't seem capable of much intellectually.

How this might've happened is, say, one Gaunt got obsessed with blood purity and around the 1780s married his cousin.

His children turn out okay since it's just one generation of cousin marriages, but then his son also marries a cousin in the 1810s.

Their children would still seem reasonably fine and marry cousins again. And they have children in the 1840s.

By this point, most of them would be losing prestige and money and many other purebloods would want nothing to do with the Gaunts. This pushes them to keep marrying just a bit too close and shrink down the family to only the main line and maybe another one.

So, these children born in the 1840s would have their own kids with their cousins around the 1870s.

Now, these kids are Marvolo and Ominis, another brother (since Ominis mentions having older brothers), and at least one sister (for the sake of this theory to work). By this point, inbreeding would start to be a problem after 4 generations of first/second-cousin marriages in a row, which would work with Ominis being born blind, for example (which is a possible result of inbreeding).

Now, while both Ominis in the game and Marvolo in the 1920s talk a big game about their family influence, by the 1890s, it's a lie. I think they started falling from grace earlier throughout the century (as I mentioned), losing money and prestige and holding onto their position in the wizarding world by the skin of their teeth. Ominis' posturing about his father knowing the headmaster in HL always came off to me as just that — posturing. His father may have met Phineas Nigellus Black, but they weren't close by any means. Ominis is just threatening you the way he knows and can — which is some of the connections still left for his family since the money ran dry years ago.

The fact we don't see other kids in Slytherin trying to win Ominis' good graces for the sake of his family's influence (blindness or not) again suggests a lot of said influence is posturing more than the real deal. I mean, he's only friends with Sebastian and Anne, two students who are definitely outsiders within Slytherin (even if there's no way they live in Feldcroft, since there's no way that hamlet doesn't exist in the books).

Also, Ominis mentions his brothers and father tortured muggles. There's a non-zero chance that in 1890 most of his family is in Azkaban and he really is just lying and he has nothing he can do against anyone with his connections. Basically, it's a bluff.

I think seeing them like this adds an interesting reason as to why Noctua (Ominis' aunt) would want to look for Slytherin's Scripturium (though I don't think the Scripturium exists in the books, so let's say she looked for the Chamber of Secrets and was eaten by the basilisk since she wasn't the heir it was meant to obey in the 1880s). Becouse she's trying to bring the family back to its place of influence as descendants of Salazar Slytherin in a different way from her brother.

By the 1890s, Noctua is dead, there are no Gaunt cousins, just the main line with Marvolo, Ominis, unnamed brother, and unnamed sister.

Ominis is likely disowned at some point, and it fits his character to decide not to have kids and not pass on Parseltongue, which he sees as dark. I can see his character making that decision. But for this theory to work, he has to die before Tom is born, so he doesn't live a long life unless he left Britain and is living happily in the US or Australia or something.

The unnamed brother might be in Azkaban for crucio-ing a muggle, getting him out of the picture in an in-character way and making sure he has no kids.

Marvolo is where it gets interesting becouse with the state we see with his kids, and the nosedive off a cliff the family took in his time, my theory is that he had his kids with the aforementioned named sister. It would explain why Morfin and Mereope are like that. It would explain why they were completely shunned from wizarding society. How they lost even the measly amount of influence they had so quickly. It would fit with Marvolo's view of blood purity and the Gaunts' blood in particular, being purer than the rest.

So, this is my answer as to how I can headcanon my way into the Gaunt family's fast decline making sense. That being said, do I think Ominis is canon for the books' universe? Probably not, but I can make up shit to make it work, as I illustrated here.

[mikuni14]

2024

There were a lot of series released in 2024, I don't know if more than in 2023, but it seemed to me that there were a lot of them… because all this year I was aware of how many series I didn't watch while they were being aired. I know it sounds weird, but sometimes I had the impression that the more series were being aired, the less I started them. I didn't start many series because their plots weren't encouraging, I also started many but dropped them because they couldn't keep my attention with their story and characters. I admit with shame that there were also series that I watched with one eye, trying to more or less keep up with the story, while doing something else. My "hate watching" of series that I loved at the beginning and which ended in a completely unsatisfying way was even weirder if I'm being honest. What a strange year...

While trying to remember what I liked last year, it turned out that every time it was a series from 2023, so I finally checked the list of series from 2024 and… well, this year in terms of BL series was poor and weak in my case, especially when I compare it to 2023, when a lot of my favorite series so far came out, when I actually had a problem choosing the best ones, because there were simply so many of them. I also have the impression that a lot of series that came out in 2024 - which, although nice and cute - were a bit... about nothing. And sadly the older I get, the easier it is for me to lose focus and interest, sooo.. this trend is not good for me 😅

2024 was also a year that confirmed how "dangerous" is getting attached and invested to series and praising them before the finale. For example, my summary of 2023 began with me gushing about The Sign, which began then, and it is the biggest disappointment of this year and my personal "grief".

So here's my small summary of the series I watched in 2024 (it turns out that there are not that many of them, I'm such a horrible fan 😭):

Best BL series: Love For Love's Sake (which means that for the last 3 years my best BL series have been produced by Korea 😮). I should also include I Cannot Reach You, because even though the series is from 2023, I only watched it this year

Fun fact: the best series from Thailand this year in my opinion are: Dead Friend Forever and High School Frenemy, and from Japan Oppan, which are hard to call a BL, I think it says something 😀

Couples who had satisfying relationships: High School Frenemy, GreatTyme (4 Minutes), LFLS, I Cannot Reach You, Perfect Propose, JJMethas (TLDHLB), Cosmetic Playlover, Love is a Poison, I Became a Main Role of a BL Drama (both couples), Tan and his revenge (DFF)

Interesting, unique series that pleasantly surprised me with how different they are: Dead Friend Forever, 4 Minutes, Oppan

Series that started out 10/10 and ended up being an absolute disaster and made me the most bitter: The Sign, I Hear The Sunspot

Series that started out well and ended up being meh: Love is Better the Second Time Around, Last Twilight, Living With Him, Jazz for Two

Series with a good potential not fully used (which I still liked): Gray Shelter, Twins, The On1 One which wasted its potential in the finale which could be better imho, apart from that it's a very good series

The craziest series I've watched anyway: Twins

Best fandom experience: DFF (gosh I miss it 💖🥺)

Worst fandom experience: I Hear The Sunspot

New stars✨in my sky: SkyNani, Mio 💖💖💖

My obsessions this year: High School Frenemy, LFLS, DFF

2024 also gave me some problematic blorbos 😌: Way (Pit Babe), Tan (DFF), Great (4 Minutes)

Hot guys 🔥: GreatTyme (4 Minutes), SanVee (Century of Love), SaintShin (HSF)

Characters I think of fondly: all the guys from LFLS, Isumi (Sugar Dog Life), Jiang Tian (The On1y One), Tan (DFF), Shiba Ryoma (Love is a Poison), Ju (Century of Love), Saint (HSF)

Characters I enjoyed watching when they showed their love or when they seduced their crushes: San (Century of Love), Shiba Ryoma (Love is a Poison), Cha Yeo Woon (LFLS), Phum (We Are), Saint (HSF), Great and Tyme (4 Minutes)

Best kiss / hot scene 🔥:

4 Minutes

Century of Love

Love for Love's Sake

Perfect Propose

Unforgettable scenes:

LFLS (all the "fuck yeah I'm gay" scenes 😍)

DFF (my son getting his revenge 💖💖💖)

Cosmetic Playlover ("he's mine")

The Rebound (iykk 🤭)

👵🎧

4 minutes (their scenes were the best tbh)

Jack & Joker (hands hands hands)

Basically every scene from High School Frenemy (✿◠‿◠)

I wish us all the best BL series in 2025 🥳🥳🥳🥳

[rareblackcat]

I was tagged to participate by @liondrakes

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

I have adopted quite a few labels over time. Therian was the first label I was introduced to and my main label to describe my animal identity. I am a vacillant therian specifically, as I don't have an animal-human side and am both simultaneity while still experiencing shifts that vary in intensity. I also use transspecies because it aligns with my feelings of being a werecat trapped in a human body and my wanting to change my body. I also use the border term Nonhuman because I am simply not human despite my current form.

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

I am a winged werebombay but I just say werecat. Bombays are a specific breed of cat. I am a Bombay specifically because of my domestic nature, as Bombays were bred to be pets and I look like them in my full and feliped forms. As a werecat, I can transform and have three different forms. One is felinoid (Humanoid cat), the next is Felianthro (anthropomorphic) and the last one is fully cat. You can see what they look like here

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

I am permashifted and I experience mental, phantom, and envisage shifts. How am I permashifted while being a vacillant therian? Because my shifts never reach non-existence. If shifts are on a scale of 0-10 with 0 being completely human, I simply never reach 0. My strongest shift is my phantom and envisage one. The two types of shifts come together for me allowing me to see my in my mind's eye/imagination. I can feel my whole body being covered by a phantom body or just specific limbs.

4/How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

My animality affects the things I like to do. I love to eat meat and fish, sun basking and, I'm pretty social for a cat so hanging around my friends is always nice. Being a blend between human and cat I'm pretty good at blending in. I'm my most cat when I am alone or with my boyfriends. Being cuddled and taken care of like a pet is the best.

5/ What do you think of the community?

I am in many different Alterhuman communities, I'm on TikTok, I occasionally look through Reddit, I'm in a few Discord servers, Pinterest, YouTube, and even some forums. I can't give a proper answer because the community is just like any other community, it has its good and bad parts, its misinformation, and its joys. I will say that information about different alterhuman experiences is lacking in certain communities and would be useful. All in all, I think the community is both chill and fun but also a bit high-strung in some places.

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

Being able to talk to like-minded individuals who understand me always makes me comfortable and euphoric, I also enjoy looking at media and pretending I'm in that world in my true body (though I don't have a hearthome,) I do enjoy wearing gear even if It doesn't help with my dysphoria, and my boyfriend treats me like a cat so talking to him is nice too. I also enjoy sleeping, eating meat, rubbing myself on soft blankets, sitting in the sun, biting, and play fighting.

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

I do experience species dysphoria almost every day. It to me, feels like I have an incomplete body that doesn't quite fit me. I don't hate my body and my true body would still incorporate this one, though it would look a bit different, It's just this one doesn't quite fit who I truly am on the inside.

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

"Education is elevation" is something a beloved content creator of mine says. When looking for what labels fit you don't fret about asking for other's experiences who use that label and jump into some ask boxes. Do your research and ask around, hear both sides of the argument before you make up your mind on something.

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

I do! I have a pair of ears, a tail, and some gloves. I do have a mask but I don't wear it unless I need to protect my identity. I've already ordered some black fur leg warmers and some more ears. I'm looking to buy a pair of wings and some fake teeth.

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

I consider my Therianthropy to be psychological but I do not think I was born a Therian but I was born a bit animalistic. I watched a lot of animal media that helped foster my identity. My identity is behavioral and something that just feels right at the same time. I act like a cat and so calling myself one feels right. I think my animal identity is just something I developed over time. I think from a psychological standpoint the idea that therianthropy might be psychoneurological. Our brains might be wired differently and that causes us to act more animalistic and then our brain either latches on to an animal that matches what the brain experiences or we push it away and train it out of ourselves.

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!

@zith-ipeth @bunnyboyzyon @creatureheart @wanderingcritter

@thatintrovertedbobcat If you're a mutual and have already done it please @ me!!/nf

If you are a alterhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

[dreamsofbroflovski]

yo…hear me out..

what the main four or others (as long as kyles in it..) are like for new years celebrations!

happy 2025 yall. let’s cook.

oh look its kyle bufflobster on that gif. my personal enemy.

Happy 2025!!! Hope everyone's having a great time already! As for me, I managed to drink cider that's been expired since 2021. It's going swell.

My first request for headcanons! I don't even know if I did these right, but I really did rack my brain. I also added some words about how they'd be with the reader because why not.

MAIN FOUR HEADCANONS - NEW YEAR'S CELEBRATIONS

𓆩♡𓆪 STAN MARSH

First thing that needs to be said: this man is pissed off days in advance over fireworks - if he has any pets, he has to make absolutely sure they’re safe and secure before anything else. He’s that guy who’s very vocal about how bad they are for animals (doesn’t really mention their effects on people), has probably tried to get them banned completely at some point.

Now that that’s out of the way. I think he’s the type to stay holed up in his home, order takeout and treat it as just another evening. 

With the exception that he’ll have an excuse to drink a whole lot of cheap champagne without anyone being up his ass about it.

Avoids his family altogether, mostly due to his father wanting to go absolutely wild on the holiday, he needs to be far away from all that.

He’s not opposed to attending a party and being around his friends, but will not actively seek that out.

And if he’s partying, he’s gonna go blackout drunk and probably miss the actual turn of the year - only to try and drunkenly state his well wishes (or personal grievances) to everyone half an hour later when the whole thing has pretty much died down.

Thumbs up reacts to everyone’s texts on the afternoon of Jan 1st; no real response.

No resolutions at all. There’s no point - at the end of the day, the new year is just a continuation of everything that has been going on in his life. If he has to achieve anything, he’ll do so of his own accord, making a promise is just putting unnecessary weight on his own shoulders.

If he’s with you, however… He can be a little better and put more effort into it, because he sees how excited you are and doesn’t wanna burst your bubble.

Will do whatever you wanna do, but has a high preference for it just being the two of you somewhere isolated, with some food and music and the aforementioned champagne (which he drinks a lot less of if you’re present)

Will pull you into a kiss right as the fireworks start and try to keep you distracted for the duration, both because he wants to be as close to you as possible in that moment and also so that he can ignore the things entirely.

Will tell you all about how he loves you and how you’re the best thing that’s happened to him. Even if he sounds drunk, you know he means all of it entirely.

𓆩♡𓆪 KYLE BROFLOVSKI

He’s probably nothing special on NYE. Probably also stays at home, but not isolated.

Jewish New Year isn’t on Dec 31st, but I still think his parents do a little something, like some nice dinner or a reunion with extended family members or friends.

If he finds himself at some party, he’s pretty well-behaved even there. I don’t see him raising hell - however, if anyone stresses him out, he’ll fight like it’s any other old day.

Is the one fucker who brought the expensive champagne that no one can recognize the name of - which got the same treatment as the other cheap ones from the supermarket.

I do unfortunately see him in the position of designated driver. Someone has to make sure his dumbass friends don’t kill themselves on the road. That doesn’t mean he’s ever happy about it, though.

Watches people partake in superstitions, but doesn’t do any of them himself.

Sends ‘Happy New Year’ texts to almost everyone he knows as soon as midnight rolls over.

Makes resolutions and sticks to them - writes them, pins them to the wall, the whole nine yards. Morning of Jan 1st he’s already making detailed plans about how he’s going to achieve everything he said he would that year (whether those plans actually succeed is a whole different animal)

If he’s with you… He absolutely tries to make it a special night, despite it meaning little to him in a superstitious sense.

He’s also in the position where your plans are his plans, he’ll follow you. However, if you do accept to spend NYE with his family and him the whole time, it sends his heart soaring because he knows that you’re choosing him above all the other stuff you could be doing, and he’ll make sure you have a great time even if his family is… difficult.

Brings you into a soft and tender kiss as the new year rolls over, holding you close as you both share a toast of champagne and sort of ignore the first fireworks in favor of being with each other.

At the top of his resolution list is the mission to make your year the best it can possibly be, and to love you through all of it. He hasn’t really written that down on his list, though - because it’s on his mind 24/7 anyway.

𓆩♡𓆪 ERIC CARTMAN

Leaves his mother alone - he’s at a party somewhere, for sure. Even if he was invited to none, he’ll sneak his way in. Since no one really has it in them to argue with him on NYE, he gets to stay.

Which shouldn’t even be a bad thing, because he actually brings the heat; he shows up with several beverages and food every time. The part of it that sucks is the fact that everything he brings is for his consumption, so he’s still an expense to the host.

He can, however, legitimately be trusted with the aux. Actual decent taste when it comes to party music.

That one guy making jokes about how he ‘hasn’t showered since last year’ or shit. Except he says them at 10pm still on Dec 31st and no one’s sure if he’s just stupid or if it’s really true.

Wears party accessories ironically; possibly brought them.

Buys whole boxes of fireworks. He’ll try to find some poor soul to do the work of lighting them up for him, but normally can’t, so he does it himself and probably needs to be taken to the hospital from the burns or sets fire to something else entirely.

Makes posts and stories on social media wishing a half-assed Happy New Year to ‘everyone’ - when in reality he got maybe like, two texts at most. (Butters and his mom, most likely)

Strangely superstitious? People will see him go through all the possible traditions that anyone said would bring him good fortune. If anyone asks him about it, he’ll deny deny deny - actually, he’s wearing full white ‘because it’s drip’ and eating those grapes under the table ‘because he doesn’t want to share them’, it’s definitely not that he fears for his own luck if he doesn’t do so.

Since he is a little ‘stitious, that does mean he makes resolutions. And they’re usually grandiose, full of bullshit, and don’t really signify any relevant positive change for his life - it’s mostly just material and physical gratification. Needless to say, they’ve never come to fruition.

If he’s with you, barely anything changes, really.

Talks to you about his plans for the evening as if they’re a done deal. Basically drags you to whatever it is he wants to do. (You might even be the reason he’s able to get into a party to begin with)

Doesn’t kiss you straight away because he’s busy with his fireworks, but if he manages to not hurt himself, you get a heavy makeout session afterwards.

He talks mad shit about how you’re lucky to have him and how you should thank him for spending this time with you, but in reality, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

Immensely grateful for your presence in his life and willing to do anything to keep it that way. However, you won’t hear a single word about it.

𓆩♡𓆪 KENNY MCCORMICK

Out of his house by sundown - the addicts around him don’t really need a special occasion for doing their shit and stirring trouble, but it still seems to worsen on the holidays, so he wants to avoid that.

The protection Stan feels towards animals, he feels towards his siblings. Before he goes do anything else, he has to make sure they’re accounted for, with their friends somewhere safe where they can enjoy the night.

When that’s dealt with, it’s party time. He does get invited to stuff, and tries his best to not show up empty-handed, even if it’s just a bottle of cheap alcohol. He might still fail in that regard, though, but it’s okay, we still love him.

Wears all the ridiculous party accessories unironically.

Has died, more than once, due to firework-related accidents. Still enjoys watching them, albeit from a very safe distance now.

Watches the ball drop livestream on the television with great interest, even if just because it’s in HD this time. Celebrates heavily when it finally happens.

His ‘Happy New Year’ texts come in the afternoon, because he’s always too wasted in the morning to tell anyone anything. People might receive a drunken nonsensical jumble of letters at midnight, though.

Says surface-level words about a resolution or two, but it’s mostly really simple stuff. Also doesn’t really hold any of that to heart, because he knows of his own bad luck.

Doing the absolute most for a new year’s kiss (or several), practically on his knees begging for it.

However, if he’s with you… You’re getting way more than a kiss. It doesn’t even matter where y’all are, he’s starting the year by doing his favorite thing with his favorite person.

He kinda drags you into his plans, but it’s not in a selfish way like Cartman does. He just wants to make sure the both of you have a great time.

If you turn out to invite him personally to spend time with your family or just yourself, words cannot describe how happy he’s gonna be. It’ll basically make his whole year. He’ll ditch any party for that.

Partying all night with his baby, watching the fireworks, making love and not having to worry about anything else? Count this dude in.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[cannibalisation]

every inch of me is full of pain

luigi mangione/fem!reader

idgaf how anyone feels abt the ethics of writing ff for luigi, ppl literally be writing for the worst individuals ever so… 🤷🏻‍♀️ and i will add that this fic is not a reflection or representation of luigi, tumblr pls don’t ban me 🙏🏻 (1.1k words)

caution. rpf, reader and lu have matching chronic pains lol, ambiguous relationship (yearnful situationship type 😈), flower symbolism, set before his incarceration.

THE grip held on your own palm is unbearable. The metallic stench of blood breathes through the crevasses of your skin. The pain of the wounds has generally died down now, leaving only the numbing sting of regret.

Luigi is asleep; you couldn’t bear to wake him up.

It was a deal the two of you shook on. If the pain was too much to endure alone, you’d let the other know. It was mutually beneficial, this relationship.

No, you weren’t dating; he introduces you to others as a friend, and you do the same with a racing heart. It was more of an oath, a pledge between two bodies, tied to the earth by a turn of phrase.

His body is warm beside you, rising softly with each breath. His back faces you head-on, the ripples of muscle and skin stretched with growth are prominent in the dim light of your bedroom.

A breath hitches in your throat. How domestic it is for him to be like this. Safe and content in the comfort of your bed. Normally you’d laugh at the scene of him swaddled up in the blush-coloured sheets—teasing him at the idea of the forget-me-not flower patterns. But now, all it does is let guilt pool in your gut.

Your hand trembles under the weight of your form as you press it against the mattress. He is safe here; you hope to keep him safe for as long as possible.

With a dismissive scoff, you pull up off the bed, and it squeaks under the release of your form. These thoughts aren’t good for your conscience; you'd hate to let it make you keel over.

The hallway is dark, but after the past month and a half of living here, you’ve become used to it. While you navigate the length of your apartment, an all-too-familiar pain builds in your lower back.

The winter weather fell short on aid when it came to your aches; you could only pray that the wind wouldn’t shatter you whole.

A faint light bursts through the kitchen curtain, leaving a hollow glow of orange. Regardless of the chilling air, the light brings warmth to the room. Non-fluorescent lights were always a must in your living spaces; they were the most efficient to your mind.

Green tea typically helped with the heated fuss of pain, but you had forgotten to grab some during your last stop at the grocery store. Luigi had been kind enough to offer to go and purchase some for you, but you had declined. It was a rainy day when he did; you wouldn’t ask him to go forth into it just because of your poor decisions.

The effects are more placebo-like in your mind anyway.

Cinnamon has always been a common item in your pantry, on account of your mother’s teachings. Paired with the acidic juice of a lemon, the tea proves worthy to combat the stir of aches and pains.

The water will take a few minutes to boil, and even then it will be too loud. Perhaps it would be best to have lukewarm tea, just so the squeal of the kettle doesn’t wake Luigi up.

He bears a similar inflection to you. That’s really the main reason as to why you both get along so well. There’s a reciprocal understanding, one that is unknown to everyone else. You don’t expect anyone else to be aware of it—nor do you want them to be.

No words have to be shared for the pair of you to understand.

The moment the kettle starts to let out a faint whistle, you pull it off of the stove.

A rich aroma of cinnamon fills the space, and you already start to feel the tension leave your spine. As you reach out for the handle of the refrigerator door, a pair of mellow footsteps sounds out from the dark hallway. Despite your mindful precautions, you still somehow managed to wake him up.

The jug of milk is heavy in your grasp as you briefly lock eyes. His are sleep-ridden and squinty; it almost causes a smile to form on your face.

“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

The hushed tone leaves your throat, croaky with lack of use. Luigi stands to the side of you, blinking away the sleep from his eyes. The shirt he has on is straining over his shoulders; it’s one you recognise as yours. He had a habit of raiding your wardrobe whenever he was over.

“You should’ve.” Was all he said back, voice equally as quiet. From the corner of your eye, you see as he brushes a hand through his messy curls. He’s stood beside you now, lent down so he could rest against the kitchen counter.

In a show of guilt, you smile lacklusterly. It was a part of the deal to make sure the other knew when it got particularly bad—but something in your heart was telling you to act differently.

How would you know if he were to do the same? How many sleepless nights has Luigi gone through merely because he didn’t want to burden you with it?

The tea is hot against your lips; the cinnamon is overpowering, but you like it; at least that makes you feel something. The liquid is murky; the milk manages to convince you that it’s anything but a placebo-featured remedy. Hot chocolate would be nicer.

You tilt the mug towards Luigi as an invitation. He takes a moment to peer into your eyes, like he’s searching for something so specific it’s unseen to the naked eye. The eye contact makes your heart pound wildly, the intensity of his gaze picking at you like one would whilst analysing a century-old painting.

Unfazed by his own sudden actions, he takes the mug from your hand with a hushed “Thanks,” and you lean back against the counter. You subtly push at your sternum, aiming to quiet your racing heart.

Silence envelops the room once more, and somehow, you couldn’t be more at ease. Luigi has a knack for making you flustered but always manages to keep you sane. His presence beside you is anchoring. It’s a lingering feeling, warmer than any cup of cinnamon tea. You wonder, does he feel the same about you? Does he feel content, just alone, in your company?

The mug is handed back to you with a gentle brush of touch. He doesn’t flinch at the contact, so you don’t either.

“Lu,” you start, teeth tugging at your lips, “I’m.. tired.”

He hums, bringing his hand up past your shoulder. His fingers start to toy with the baby hairs at your neck.

He says nothing, and neither do you.

No words have passed, and yet, you’ve both said all that was necessary.

[amourquinn]

𝐀𝐂𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 ; quinn hughes

prologue

first chapter ➙

「 author’s note 」 here it is!! this prologue is pretty long, but it explores the background of quinn and camila’s relationship ( the main events basically ) and how everything turned upside down

JULY 2017

The air was thick with the buzz of summer—warm, with just a hint of coolness as the night deepened. A group of college students had rented a lake house for the weekend, hoping to escape the pressure of exams, assignments, and the looming future. There was the unmistakable scent of campfire smoke in the air, blending with the earthy aroma of the lake, and the crackling of the fire itself added a rhythmic background to the laughter and chatter that floated around the gathering. People were huddled in small groups around the bonfire, some with drinks in hand, others leaning against the railing of the dock, gazing out over the dark waters.

But Camila wasn’t with the rest of them.

She sat by herself on the edge of the firepit, her gaze fixed on the flickering flames. The warm light cast a soft glow on her face, making her look almost ethereal. She liked the solitude, the way the fire seemed to embrace her in its warmth, its crackling whispers almost like a language only she could understand. It was peaceful, and she felt at ease here, in the quiet of the moment, the chaos of the party distant and muted.

Quinn, who had been standing near the edge of the firepit talking to a few friends, noticed her sitting by herself. He hadn’t seen her around before, though he recognized her face from mutual friends. She was new. And, though he was never one to be forward, something about her calm presence caught his attention.

He excused himself from the group, making his way over to the spot where she was sitting, his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, his eyes studying the fire for a moment. He wasn’t quite sure what had drawn him to her. Maybe it was the way she looked so at ease, so comfortable with herself. Or maybe it was the fact that she wasn’t laughing at some joke or chatting animatedly like everyone else.

When he reached the log she was sitting on, Quinn hesitated. He wasn’t particularly skilled at starting conversations with strangers, especially not pretty girls, but something about her presence felt… easy. He cleared his throat, stepping into her line of sight.

“Hey,” Quinn said, his voice a little louder than he intended. Camila glanced up again, her dark eyes meeting his with a soft smile.

“Hi,” she said, her voice calm but warm, but she was a little suprised by the sudden approach.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.

“Not at all,” she replied, scooting over slightly on the log she was sitting on. Quinn sat down, a comfortable distance away, though he couldn’t help but feel drawn to her quiet demeanor. She wasn’t like the others at the party, all loud and over-the-top. There was something incredibly peaceful about her.

“I’m Quinn. We haven’t met before,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Camila,” she responded, offering him a small but genuine smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“I noticed you sitting over here by yourself,” Quinn said, feeling a little awkward. “Is it… just a preference? Or are you just trying to avoid the crowd?”

Camila chuckled softly, shaking her head. “A little of both, I guess. I’m not really the party type. I prefer the quiet. It’s easier to think here.” She nodded toward the fire. “The flames have this… calming effect. I can’t explain it.”

Quinn smiled, nodding in agreement. He wasn’t particularly into loud parties either. Hockey had always been a big part of his life, so he was used to the intense focus that came with that, and he found it hard to relax when everything around him was a blur of noise and movement. “I get that. Sometimes it’s just nice to sit back and enjoy the moment.”

They both looked at the fire for a while, the occasional pop of a log causing both of them to glance toward the flames. Quinn found himself more at ease than he expected. He wasn’t great at starting conversations, but something about Camila made him feel like he didn’t have to try so hard.

“So,” Quinn began, breaking the silence again, “I’m guessing you’re not from around here?”

Camila raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “How could you tell?” she asked, her smile playing at the corners of her lips.

“Well, it’s just… you’ve got an accent,” Quinn said, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Camila laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re right. I’m from Barcelona,” she said, her smile softening. “I moved here a few years ago with my parents.”

“Barcelona?” Quinn repeated, surprised. “That’s… far from here. What’s it like?”

“It’s beautiful,” Camila said, her eyes brightening as she spoke. “The city, the food, the beaches… It’s hard to explain. But it’s home.” She paused for a moment before adding, “Michigan is nice, but it’s very different.”

“I can imagine,” Quinn said, leaning back on the log and watching her as she spoke. He was fascinated by how easily she shifted from being quiet and introspective to animated when talking about her home. It made him want to know more. “So how’s the adjustment been? I mean, living in a place so… different.”

“It’s been a challenge,” she admitted, looking at the fire. “The weather, the culture, the food… everything. But I’m getting used to it. I mean, it’s not all bad. I like it here.”

Quinn nodded, trying to picture it in his mind. “Sounds like it’s been a lot to get used to.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, but… it’s life, right? You just adjust.”

He paused for a second, glancing toward the cooler nearby where a few bottles of soda and beer were sitting, then back to her. “Hey, I was gonna grab a drink, want one?” Quinn asked, gesturing to the cooler. “I can bring something over. I’m not sure if you want beer or something else, but there’s plenty of options.”

Camila considered it for a moment before nodding. “Sure, why not. A cherry soda would be nice,” she said, offering him a small smile.

“Alright, I’ll be right back.” Quinn got up, feeling a little more confident after the smooth exchange. He returned shortly with a can of cherry soda and a bottle of water, handing one over to her with a grin. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking the soda with a grateful nod. “Now tell me about yourself,” she turned to him with anticipation.

Quinn chuckled, realizing he hadn’t really introduced himself. “Well… I play hockey for Michigan,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Been with the team for almost a year now. It’s a big part of my life.“

Camila’s eyes flickered with interest. “Really? That’s awesome. I’ve heard a lot about the Michigan hockey team. You guys are pretty good, right?”

Quinn chuckled, a little embarrassed. “I guess so. It’s been a lot of hard work, but I’ve been lucky to play with some amazing guys. My brothers—Jack and Luke—they’re both into hockey too. So it’s kind of a family thing.”

Camila raised an eyebrow. “You guys must be competitive.”

“Oh, we definitely are,” Quinn said with a grin. “But at the end of the day, it’s all about pushing each other to be better. I couldn’t imagine doing it without them.”

“That’s really cool,” Camila said, her smile softening. “It sounds like you have a really tight-knit family. I bet that’s something special.”

“It is,” Quinn agreed, his tone sincere. “They’ve always got my back, even when things get tough.”

“So, how’d you get into hockey?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Quinn shifted a little, considering the question. “I don’t really remember a time when I didn’t love it. My dad put me on skates when I was three, and I just never looked back. It’s always been part of me.”

“That’s pretty incredible,” Camila said, her eyes soft with admiration. “I can tell it’s something you’re passionate about.”

Quinn smiled, feeling a little more relaxed now. “Yeah, I guess you could say it’s my thing.”

They spent the next few hours talking about their favorite movies, music, and some of their university experiences. The night had grown quieter, the soft crackling of the bonfire filling the space between them as the party around them slowly wound down. Quinn could still hear faint laughter and music from the house, but here by the fire, it felt like they were in their own little world.

He glanced at Camila, who had tucked her knees up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them as she gazed into the flames. There was something calming about her presence—like she belonged to this moment more than anyone else.

“Hey,” he started, his voice breaking the silence. Camila turned her head toward him, her expression curious but soft. Quinn hesitated for a moment, then pushed forward. “I, uh… I was thinking. Maybe we could hang out again sometime?”

Camila’s eyes flicked up to meet his, her expression caught somewhere between surprise and nervousness. “You… you want to hang out with me?” she asked softly, her tone uncertain but curious.

“Yeah,” Quinn said, his cheeks heating as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, only if you want to. I just… I really enjoyed talking to you tonight.”

Camila bit her bottom lip, her own cheeks warming under his gaze. She hesitated for a moment, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater before she nodded slightly. “Okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’d like that.”

Quinn’s lips curved into a small, relieved smile, and for a moment, neither of them seemed to know what to do next. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Uh, do you want to, um, exchange numbers? So I can text you or something?”

Camila’s blush deepened as she nodded. “Yeah, sure. That works.” She pulled out her phone with slightly trembling hands and handed it to him, glancing away to avoid his eyes.

Quinn took it carefully, his fingers brushing hers for the briefest moment, sending a jolt of nerves through both of them. He quickly typed in his number, double-checking to make sure he hadn’t made any mistakes, before handing the phone back to her.

“There,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Now you’ve got it.”

Camila glanced at the screen, her lips twitching into a shy smile as she saved the contact. “Thanks,” she said softly, her fingers lingering on her phone. After a moment, she added, “I’ll, um, text you first. So you know it’s me.”

Quinn felt his face heat up again, but he nodded, grateful for the gesture. “Yeah, that works,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll look out for it.”

They sat there for a moment longer, both feeling the weight of unspoken words but too shy to say them. Finally, Camila stood up, adjusting her shorts. “I should probably head inside,” she said, her smile apologetic but warm. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, me too,” Quinn agreed, though he didn’t want the night to end. “Goodnight, Camila.”

“Goodnight, Quinn,” she replied, her smile lingering as she turned and walked back toward the house.

Quinn watched her go, a quiet sense of accomplishment washing over him. He hadn’t expected to feel so drawn to someone he’d just met, but something about Camila felt different—special. A small, shy smile played on his lips, his mind replaying their conversation. It wasn’t much, but it felt like the start of something he didn’t want to let go of.

OCTOBER 2017

Quinn stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of his light blue button-up shirt for the third time. He stepped back, frowning slightly. Was it too formal? Not formal enough? He sighed and glanced at the dark jeans he’d paired it with, wondering if he should have gone with something else.

His heart was racing, but he told himself to relax. It wasn’t like he hadn’t spent time with Camila before. They’d texted and talked constantly over the last few weeks at school or on the phone, but tonight was different. Tonight was their first official date.

A knock on his door pulled him out of his spiral. “Come in,” he said.

His mom, Ellen, stepped in, holding a laundry basket. She smiled warmly when she saw him. “Wow, look at you. You clean up nicely.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Quinn said, his cheeks warming.

Ellen set the basket on his bed and looked him over, her mom radar clearly picking up on his nervous energy. “You look great, sweetie. But what’s with the face? Are you nervous?”

Quinn hesitated before nodding. “A little. It’s our first real date, and I’m meeting her parents.”

Ellen’s smile softened, and she walked over, placing a hand on his arm. “That’s a good thing, Quinn. It means she trusts you enough to let you into her life.”

“I guess,” Quinn said, scratching the back of his neck. “But what if I screw it up?”

Ellen chuckled. “You won’t. Just be yourself. Be polite, respectful, and don’t forget to listen. Parents notice how someone treats their child.”

Quinn nodded, taking in her words. “Got it.”

“And one more thing,” Ellen added, tilting her head. “Compliment her. It doesn’t have to be over the top, just something genuine.”

“Mom, I know,” Quinn said, though his blush betrayed him.

“You’re going to do great,” Ellen assured him. She gave his arm a gentle squeeze before turning to leave, but before she could make it out the door, Jack barged in, his grin wide.

“Well, well, well,” Jack said, leaning against the doorframe. “Quinn Hughes, about to go on a date. This is groundbreaking.”

“Jack,” Quinn groaned. “Not now.”

“No, no,” Jack said, stepping into the room. “This is important. I need to document this moment for future generations. Should I call Dad? Maybe Luke? They’ll want to hear about this.”

“Jack,” Ellen warned, though her tone was amused.

“Alright, fine,” Jack said, holding up his hands in surrender. He sat down on Quinn’s bed, his mischievous grin firmly in place. “So, what’s the plan? Fancy dinner? Romantic walk? Or are you just winging it?”

“We’re going to that Italian place in the city,” Quinn said, straightening his shirt again.

“Ooh, classy,” Jack said with a mock-serious nod. “And you’re meeting her parents first, right? Good luck with that. Her dad’s probably going to ask you what your intentions are.”

“Jack,” Ellen said, shaking her head.

“What?” Jack said innocently. “I’m just preparing him. He’s going to need all the help he can get.”

Quinn sighed, grabbing his watch from the dresser. “Why are you even in here?”

“Because it’s fun watching you freak out,” Jack said, smirking. “But seriously, don’t trip over your own feet. Or, you know, forget how to talk.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Quinn said dryly, though a small smile tugged at his lips.

Ellen shook her head, patting Quinn’s shoulder. “Ignore him. You’ll be fine.”

She started to leave the room, pausing at the door. “And don’t forget, be home by a reasonable hour.”

“Got it, Mom,” Quinn said.

Once she was gone, Jack leaned back on the bed, grinning. “So, when are you going to introduce her to me? I’m great with parents.”

Quinn threw a pillow at him. “Get out.”

Jack laughed as he dodged the pillow and strolled out of the room, leaving Quinn shaking his head but feeling a little more at ease.

⋆˙⟡

Quinn parked his car in front of Camila’s house, gripping the steering wheel as he took a deep breath. He grabbed the small bouquet of flowers he’d picked up earlier and stepped out of the car, heading toward the house.

The front porch light was on, and the house looked warm and inviting, with flower pots lining the steps. After a few knocks, the door opened, and a tall man with dark hair stood in the doorway.

“You must be Quinn,” the man said, extending a hand.

“Yes, sir,” Quinn replied, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Bailey.”

“Come in,” Marc, Camila’s dad said, stepping aside. “Camila’s still getting ready.”

Quinn stepped inside and was immediately greeted by the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen. He looked around, taking in the cozy home with its family photos and warm decor. A woman appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on an apron. She had the same warm brown eyes as Camila and a smile that could put anyone at ease.

“Ah, you must be Quinn!” she said, her voice full of warmth.

“Yes, ma’am,” Quinn said, handing her the flowers.

“Qué detalle tan bonito,” Camila’s mom said, pressing a hand to her chest. “Gracias, Quinn. They’re beautiful.”

“You didn’t have to bring anything,” Marc said, though his tone had softened.

“It’s nothing,” Quinn replied, smiling. “I wanted to.”

Camila’s mom motioned for him to sit down on the couch while she disappeared into the kitchen. Marc settled into the armchair across from him, his gaze steady.

“So,” Marc began, his tone conversational but with an edge of protectiveness. “Camila tells us you play hockey.”

“Yes, sir,” Quinn said. “I play at college.”

Marc nodded, his expression neutral. “And you’re close with your brothers, right? She mentioned that.”

Quinn nodded. “Very close. We grew up playing hockey together. They mean a lot to me.”

Marc studied him for a moment, then leaned back. “Good. Family’s important. Camila’s our only little girl, you know. She means everything to us. So, take care of her, alright?”

Quinn met his gaze, his voice steady. “I will. I promise.”

Before Marc could say more, Camila’s mom reappeared with a plate of cookies. “Quinn, take one, mijo. Eat! They’re traditional cookies from Spain.”

Quinn hesitated, then took a cookie, his cheeks warming at her fussing. “Thank you, Mrs. Bailey.”

“Call me Valeria,” she insisted, waving her hand.

At that moment, Camila came down the stairs. She was dressed in a simple but elegant black top and a flowy skirt, her hair loosely curled. Quinn stood up, his heart skipping a beat.

“You look beautiful,” he said softly.

“Thanks,” Camila replied, her cheeks flushing. “You look nice too.”

Valeria clapped her hands. “¡Qué guapos los dos! You make such a beautiful couple.”

“Mamá,” Camila groaned, clearly embarrassed.

Marc stood and gave Quinn a nod. “You two have fun. But not too much fun,” he added with a pointed look.

“Dad!” Camila exclaimed, her face turning red.

Quinn laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Got it.”

⋆˙⟡

As they stepped out of the front door and walked toward Quinn’s car, Camila let out a small sigh, running her hand through her hair. She felt her cheeks burn as the memory of her parents’ teasing lingered.

“I’m so sorry about them,” Camila said softly, glancing over at Quinn. Her voice was a mix of embarrassment and mild frustration. “They can be a little… much.”

Quinn chuckled, adjusting his grip on the car keys as they reached his car. “You don’t need to apologize. They were really nice.”

She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “They were a little overwhelming, don’t you think?”

“Well, yeah, a bit. But that’s not a bad thing,” he said with a shrug. “It just means they care. Your mom’s really sweet, and your dad—” He hesitated, trying to think of the right words. “Well, he seems like a guy who looks out for his family, which I can respect.”

Camila let out a small laugh, her cheeks still rosy. “Yeah, that’s my dad. He doesn’t take any chances when it comes to me.” She grinned, but there was a softness to her expression

“I can tell,” Quinn said, smiling to himself. He opened the passenger door for her. “But honestly, it’s nice. You know, the whole family thing. It’s clear you’re close to them.”

Her gaze softened at his words, and she looked at him as she slid into the car. “You really think so?”

“Definitely,” Quinn replied as he closed the door behind her. Then, he made his way around the car, sliding into the driver’s seat. He started the engine, and the car hummed to life.

As they drove away from her house, the city lights streaked past, their quiet chatter filling the space between them. But as the conversation lulled for a moment, Camila turned to him with a genuine, happy smile.

“I’m really glad we’re doing this,” she said, her voice quieter, more sincere. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week, actually.”

Quinn glanced at her, his heart fluttering a bit at her words. He glanced back at the road, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Yeah? Me too.”

“It’s nice to finally go out on a date with you,” Camila continued, her tone soft and slightly shy but full of excitement. “We’ve been talking for so long now, and it just feels like the right time.”

Quinn’s smile deepened, a warmth filling him. “I agree. It’s been great talking to you. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you.”

“I’m glad you feel the same way,” she said, turning her head to look out the window for a moment. Then, she turned back to him with a soft smile. “I was a little nervous, but now that we’re finally going out, I feel… I don’t know… happy. Really happy, actually.”

“I’m happy too,” Quinn said, his voice almost quiet but full of sincerity. He glanced at her again, his heart racing slightly. “We’ll have a great time, I’m sure.”

Her smile grew wider, and she looked at him with a twinkle in her eyes. “I think we already are.”

And with that, they continued their drive, the evening ahead filled with promise.

DECEMBER 2017

The soft glow of twinkling fairy lights strung along the trees illuminated the frozen lake like tiny stars, their warm light dancing on the smooth, glistening ice. Snow gently fell from the sky, each flake adding to the thick, powdery blanket surrounding the rink. The air was crisp, biting at their cheeks, but the warmth between Quinn and Camila was enough to keep the cold at bay.

Camila clutched Quinn’s arm tightly, her skates wobbling on the ice as she struggled to keep her balance. “Quinn, I’m going to fall!” she exclaimed, her voice somewhere between a laugh and a panic.

“You’re not going to fall, Mils,” Quinn said, his voice calm and steady as he guided her across the ice. His gloved hand covered hers, his hold firm and reassuring. “You’ve got me. Just trust me, okay?”

Camila looked up at him, her dark brown eyes wide with both nerves and amusement. “I do trust you, but I don’t trust these skates.”

Quinn laughed, the sound light and warm in the frosty air. “The skates are fine—it’s all about confidence. You just have to glide. Watch me.” He let go of her hand for a moment and skated ahead, his movements smooth and effortless as he turned to face her. “See? Easy.”

Camila stopped in place, her hands flailing slightly as she tried to steady herself. She couldn’t help but admire the way he moved, like he was born to skate. “Easy for you to say,” she muttered under her breath, though a small smile tugged at her lips.

“Come on, Mils,” Quinn said, extending his hand toward her. “I’ll help you. One step at a time.”

She hesitated for a moment before reaching for his hand, her fingers curling around his. The warmth of his touch, even through the layers of gloves, sent a flutter through her chest. Slowly, he pulled her toward him, skating backward as she followed, her steps tentative but steady.

“See? You’re getting it,” Quinn said, his smile widening as he watched her gain a little confidence.

“I think I’m getting the hang of it,” Camila said, her grin growing as she took another step forward. But just as she started to relax, her skate caught on an uneven patch of ice, and she stumbled forward with a startled yelp.

Quinn caught her instantly, his arms wrapping around her waist to keep her upright. “I’ve got you,” he said softly, his face just inches from hers.

Camila’s cheeks flushed, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or the way his blue-green eyes seemed to hold her in place. “Thanks,” she whispered, her breath visible in the chilly air.

They stayed like that for a moment, neither of them moving, the world around them fading into the background. Camila’s heart pounded in her chest, and she could feel Quinn’s arms steady and warm around her.

“You’re doing great, Mils,” Quinn said, his voice low and gentle.

“You think so?” she asked, her lips curving into a small, shy smile.

“I know so,” he replied, his gaze flickering down to her lips for just a second before meeting her eyes again.

Camila’s stomach flipped, a nervous but excited energy coursing through her. “You’re sweet, you know that?” she teased, trying to lighten the moment, though her voice came out softer than she intended.

Quinn chuckled, his arms still holding her close. “Only for you,” he said, his words carrying a weight that made her heart skip a beat.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence between them filled with an unspoken tension. Camila’s gaze drifted to his lips, and she felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to close the distance between them. But before she could move, Quinn spoke.

“Mils,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I tell you something?”

She nodded, her eyes locked on his. “Of course.”

“I… I’ve really liked spending time with you these past few months,” he said, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. “You’re amazing. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

Camila’s breath caught in her throat. She could feel her heart pounding, her chest tightening with a mix of emotions she couldn’t quite name. “I’ve been thinking about you too, Quinn,” she admitted, her voice soft but certain.

Quinn’s eyes lit up at her words, and for a moment, he looked like he was trying to decide what to do next. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his movements careful and deliberate, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she wanted to. But she didn’t.

When their lips met, it was soft and tentative, a gentle brush that sent a spark of warmth through both of them. The kiss deepened slightly as they leaned into each other, their breaths mingling in the cold air. It was sweet and unhurried, a perfect reflection of everything they felt but hadn’t said until now.

When they finally pulled away, Camila couldn’t help but smile, her cheeks flushed and her heart racing. “That was… really nice.”

“Yeah?” Quinn asked, his own smile soft and a little shy.

“Yeah,” she said, her gaze meeting his.

Quinn took a deep breath, his hands still resting lightly on her waist. “So, what does this make us now?”

Camila tilted her head, her lips curving into a playful smile. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I think… I’d like to call you my girlfriend,” he said, his voice steady but his eyes searching hers for approval.

Camila felt her heart swell at his words, warmth spreading through her chest like sunlight breaking through a winter storm. “I’d like that too,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Quinn grinned, his face lighting up in a way that made her stomach flutter. “Really?”

“Really,” she said, her smile widening.

Quinn pulled her into a gentle hug, their skates scraping against the ice as they steadied themselves. “This might be the best winter ever,” he murmured against her hair, his voice full of quiet happiness.

Camila laughed softly, her arms wrapping around him. “I think it might be mine too,” she said, her voice full of warmth and certainty.

As they skated hand in hand under the twinkling lights, their hearts full and their smiles wide, the world around them seemed to fade away. It was the beginning of something new, something beautiful. And for the first time, they both felt like they were exactly where they were meant to be.

MAY 2020

The Hughes’ backyard was alive with celebration, strung-up lights casting a warm glow over a crowd of friends, family, and teammates. It was a night to honor Quinn’s nomination for the Calder Memorial Trophy, a testament to his incredible rookie season. Laughter and chatter mixed with the faint hum of music, but for Camila, it felt like she was on the outside looking in.

She stood by the drinks table, her hands wrapped around a glass of sparkling water as she watched Quinn move effortlessly through the crowd. He was laughing, smiling, shaking hands—completely in his element. She felt a pang of pride for him, but it was overshadowed by the aching distance she felt growing between them for the past two years.

He hadn’t noticed her standing alone. He rarely did these days.

“Cam!” Jack’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. He approached with his usual grin, but it faltered when he saw the look on her face. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

Camila forced a smile. “I’m fine, Jack. Just tired.”

“Yeah, right,” he said, giving her a pointed look. “What’s really going on?”

Camila hesitated, her throat tightening. “Can we talk somewhere private?”

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded. “Sure.”

They made their way to a quieter corner of the yard, away from the laughter and music. Jack leaned against the fence, his arms crossed. “Alright, spill. What’s going on?”

Camila took a deep breath, her hands trembling. “I’m moving back to Spain. In three days.”

Jack froze, his eyes widening. “What? Spain? Are you serious?”

She nodded, her voice shaking. “My parents need me there, and… I need to go, Jack. I’ve been thinking about this for a while. It’s not just about my family. It’s about me too.”

Jack’s face twisted in disbelief. “Does Quinn know?”

“Not yet,” she admitted, looking away. “I didn’t want to ruin tonight for him. I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

Jack shook his head, his voice rising. “Cam, you can’t just drop this on him. Why are you even leaving? You guys have been together for three years.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Because we’re not the same anymore, Jack. I love him, but I miss him. Even when he’s right in front of me, I feel like I’m losing him. We’ve grown apart, and I can’t keep pretending everything is fine when it’s not.”

Jack’s shoulders slumped, his anger giving way to sadness. “But you’ve always been there for him. You’re part of his life—our life.”

“I know,” she said softly. “And I’ll always care about you guys. But Quinn’s world is so big now, and I feel like I’m just holding him back. And maybe… maybe he’s holding me back too.”

Jack stared at her, his expression torn. “I hate this. You’re my best friend, Cam.”

“I hate it too,” she whispered. “But this is what’s best for both of us.”

Jack pulled her into a tight hug, his voice quiet. “This sucks.”

⋆˙⟡

The house was peaceful, but for Quinn and Camila, it was anything but. She stood in the living room, her arms wrapped around herself, while Quinn sat on the couch, his elbows on his knees, staring down at his hands. The tension between them was palpable, an unspoken truth hanging heavily in the air.

Camila took a deep breath and finally broke the silence. “I think we need to talk.”

Quinn’s head lifted slightly, but he didn’t look at her right away. Instead, he stared at the coffee table in front of him, as though bracing himself for the conversation he knew was coming. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “We probably do.”

She stepped closer, her heart pounding in her chest. “Quinn, I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this, but there’s no easy way. I’m… I’m moving back to Barcelona.”

Quinn’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto hers. “What?” he said, his voice filled with disbelief. “What do you mean you’re moving back? When?”

“In two days,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I’ve already made all the arrangements. My flight’s booked.”

“Two days?” His voice rose slightly, a mixture of hurt and frustration. He pushed himself off the couch, standing up to face her. “You’re telling me this now? After everything? Camila, how could you keep this from me?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” she said, her words coming out in a rush. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Quinn. But I can’t keep pretending everything’s okay when it’s not.”

“What do you mean it’s not okay?” he demanded, his tone sharp. “We’ve been together for three years. We’ve been through so much. And now, all of a sudden, you’re just… leaving?”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, trying to stay composed. “It’s not all of a sudden,” she said softly. “I’ve been feeling this way for a while. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself, let alone to you.”

He shook his head, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “Feeling what way? That you don’t want to be with me anymore?”

“No, Quinn,” she said, her voice breaking. “It’s not about not wanting to be with you. It’s about realizing that we’re not in the same place anymore. You have your career, your priorities, and you’re doing amazing. But me? I feel like I’m stuck, like I don’t know who I am or where I’m going.”

“Then let me help you,” he said, stepping closer to her. “We can figure it out together. You don’t have to do this alone, Mils.”

She shook her head, a tear slipping down her cheek. “That’s the thing, Quinn. You shouldn’t have to. You’re already carrying so much with your career, and I don’t want to be another weight on your shoulders. You deserve someone who knows what they want, who can support you the way you need.”

“Don’t do that,” he said, his voice tight.

“I’m sorry, Quinn,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I can’t keep relying on you to hold me together. I need to figure out who I am on my own. And I can’t do that here.”

His jaw tightened, his eyes searching hers for something—anything—that would make her change her mind. “So, what? You’re just walking away? Throwing everything we have away?”

“It’s not throwing it away,” she said, stepping closer to him. “It’s letting it go because I care about you too much to keep dragging us through this. We’re not the same people we were when we started dating, Quinn. And that’s okay.

He looked at her, his face a mixture of heartbreak and anger. “That’s such bullshit,” he said quietly. “If you love someone, you fight for them.”

“I have been fighting,” she said, her voice breaking. “But it’s not just about love, Quinn. It’s about timing, about priorities. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be, and I’m… I’m lost. I need to go home, to figure things out. For me.”

Quinn turned away from her, his hands on his hips as he tried to process her words. The room was silent except for the sound of Camila’s shaky breaths.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought we had more time.”

She closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face. “I thought so too.”

He turned back to her, his eyes red-rimmed but filled with determination. “I’ll always love you, Mils. And I don’t think that’s ever going to change.”

“I’ll always love you too,” she said, her voice barely audible. “And that’s why I have to do this. For both of us.”

They stood there for a moment, the weight of their words hanging heavy in the air. Then, Quinn stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him. She clung to him, burying her face in his chest as her tears soaked into his shirt.

“Promise me something,” he said, his voice muffled against her hair.

“Anything,” she whispered.

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” he said, pulling back to look at her. “Promise me you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

She nodded, her heart breaking all over again. “I promise.”

He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he let her go. “I guess this is it, then.”

Camila nodded, tears still dripping down her cheeks.

Without another word, she turned and walked toward the door, her heart heavy with every step. She paused at the threshold, looking back at him one last time. He stood there, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slumped as though the weight of the world had finally caught up to him.

“Goodbye, Quinn,” she said softly.

“Goodbye, Mils,” he replied, his voice barely audible.

As she walked out of the Hughes’ home, out of his life, Quinn stood there, the weight of their love and their loss settling over him. Their story had come to an end. And though it was painful, they both knew it was the right choice.

© amourquinn

[dasketcherz]

I also just love how well this sets up so much of the choices of the main cast by the near end of the final act.

Nuru and Yong still having reservations about Varian concealing his past this whole time and how that put a strain on their relationship and how they perceived him from there while Hugo tried to be the mediator for once, and trying to help the two understand on behalf of Varian—that no matter what he has done, Varian really really did care for them, values them and didn't mean to hurt them like this. And the most damning part?—he's not just talking about Varian when he says these, he's talking about himself too (knowing what's coming next sooner or later and aghhhh)

It's one of those cases of "you wouldn't truly understand it unless you were there" situations. And Hugo's betrayal really shifts something in both Nuru and Yong. They saw how as equally hurt Varian was of this action as they were—and yet he chose to prioritize keeping them both safe as best as he can even after they constantly distanced themselves from him, because it was the right thing to do and they cant help but commend him for that.

So when Hugo act on wanting to set things right, their shift of realization about Varian is what helped them choose to give Hugo another chance and help him correct his mistake, because it was the right thing to do.

And the way by the end, Hugo made it abundantly clear that he had remorse and was truly sorry for what he did. And Varian knows that Hugo probably expects not to be welcomed back in their group anymore after everything, but Varian knew firsthand what it felt like to feel abandoned and left behind by the people you thought were your friends—and he's never gonna let Hugo have to go through that same rotting feeling like he did—so he asks Hugo to stay.

And Nuru and Yong finally genuinely understands that even good people are capable of making poor decisions, but that doesn't make them inherently a bad person, especially when they make an effort to undo their wrongdoings. So they, too, agree and support Varian's sentiment to open their arms up to Hugo again.

(this part is something my friend @star-burrow brilliantly pointed out) Meanwhile, Hugo saw the damage Ulla's fallout with Donella caused his mentor everyday ever since and he could never think of himself doing that to Varian (and the others), no matter how terrible and undeserving he believes he is, he wants to make amends with all of them and not run away from this—so Hugo stays.

Team Radical mean so much to each other and they're willing to give this another go, they know it's gonna be worth the shot... because after all, they're scientists—"trial and error is part of the process and there's always room for improvement" is their mantra as a group of nerdy friends. And that's exactly what they'll do—make room for improvement for one another.

I love this spin-off a normal amount you guys, I swear to god.

Something that’s really cool about the Varian And The Seven Kingdoms Mini-Series that plays in my head occasionally, is how the writers treat Varian’s villain arc.

It’s something he keeps hidden. Because while yes, his past is something he’s made peace with, and is even something he can joke about with his friends. But it’s one thing to joke about something with your friends who see you as an equal, to joke about it with people who were there and affected.

But it’s almost impossible to bring up around people you’re supposed to be leading, around people who you recently met. He’s trying to earn the trust of Yong, Nuru, and Hugo. He needs to earn their respect so they trust him to lead them through the trials, not to mention the fact that Nuru and Yong are both children.

So instead of Varian ever mentioning his past- a fabled man named “The Alchemist” is brought up. Yong hears about him at the market, and asks about him at the camp fire, where Nuru regales him with the tale of The Alchemist who tried to take over Corona- the ruthless scientist who took the queen hostage, experimented on animals, and tried to kill the princess. As she goes on, she gives Yong a story that is clearly filled with exaggerations and lies, scaring him. This only furthers Varian’s desire to keep quiet about everything. Throughout the series The Alchemist is brought up again, always in a negative light. Varian always shuts down any conversation about the mythical being.

And Hugo gets suspicious.

On their way to Corona, the episode before the two-part finale, they’re walking through the woods and find Varian’s old wanted poster, and he confesses to everything.

Nuru and Yong are understandably upset and set up their tents elsewhere- having no desire to be around the person who lied to them all year, even if they understand his side of the story. It’s still a hurtful betrayal to learn that someone isn’t who you thought they were…

But Hugo stays. Hugo put it together long ago, and even if he didn’t, he knows that sometimes a part of yourself is best kept hidden- or a part of yourself shouldn’t be revealed until you’re ready. He consoles Varian, confirms he still trusts him, and assures him that Nuru and Yong will eventually forgive him too. Varian is incredibly moved by the support and affection.

The two even almost share a kiss, before they notice a blue lantern float towards them. Like one of Rapunzel’s birthday lanterns- but blue and being powered by chemical vials, with The Brotherhood’s emblem stamped on. (The fact that Rapunzel sent birthday lanterns for Varian to lead him back home from his journey made me tear up a little.)

Idk I just thought that was a really sweet way the writers handled that storyline and I love the special moment between Varian and Hugo that foreshadows the finale…