#i was like no!! no!! but he's so funny!!!!!! and the second he showed up in game again i started taking screenshots of me n the bestieee

[lesamis]

If you're up for it could you explain what is making the Germany government stuff so funny? I can find news articles about it (a coalition is dissolving? There's been tension for a while?) but they're all fairly serious. Thx!

ohhh, sure thing! i'll do my best!

i'll say upfront: this is a pretty serious thing to happen. our chancellor fired our minister of finance, Lindner, which definitively breaks up the governing coalition. germany will likely have snap elections at a moment in which far-right parties are polling extremely well. if news coverage about it seems like people are Worried, that's because, well, they are.

however. the reason it's funny is because our minister of finance was fired. ministers aren't really... ever fired. like, it's not a done thing. i'll fully admit i didn't even know it was an option until yesterday. and our minister of finance wasn't just anyone, he was one of the most mocked and hated figures in politics to germans who vote anywhere left of center.

the coalition that governed until yesterday was made up of the green party, the social democrats, and the neoliberal party (FDP). the FDP is infamous (and i mean, my parents already raised me to hate them for that) for playing kingmaker in coalition governments: they never get all that many votes, but they get just enough that whoever they agree to form a government with will probably succeed. they then tend to force extreme concessions from their coalition partners, because hey, if we walk off, you can't govern at all! so you better play along!

for the past three years, this behaviour has been extremely frustrating for germans who voted for greens or social democrats, because policy from their faction was constantly being blocked by the FDP and often by Lindner personally. the FDP received 11,5% of votes in 2021, but to many of us, it felt as if they were the only party who really had any say in the governing coalition. it made the green and social democratic coalition partners look spineless and passive.

and now, i invite you to imagine how on the day of the US election results, the day the whole world rolled their eyes at the sheer fucking stupidity and pointlessness of it all, at NINE IN THE EVENING, just as germans are getting ready to settle in to bed to dream of nightmare global politics -

the news suddenly breaks that our notoriously invisible chancellor just decided to fire Lindner for that exact behaviour. this chancellor comes out and says, on camera, to the entire sleepy nation, that acting the way Lindner did - blocking necessary policies, refusing to approve budgets unless his party's interests were met - was childish, selfish, irresponsible, and unfit for government, so, whoops, he had to go. shame. coalition over, i guess.

so, politically, that was a long-needed but never-expected moment of triumph for those of us who think the FDP is a clown show made up of human TESLA shares, and it came at a hysterically funny moment.

on a personal level, i can barely explain how uniquely hateable Lindner has always been. he's what would happen if a stock index graph came to life. he hates poor people with a relish; he mocks welfare recipients and would ax minimum wages in a second. he's everyone's business major roommate who shows up in boat shoes fresh off a yacht to discuss NFTs with you. throughout the entire time that he's used his rich boy policy blackmail strategy, he's been smug about it, and he was never taken to task for it, and millions of germans have been longing to throw rotten fruit in his face since 2017. and now we finally get to do it. via memes. on the day of trump's election win.

so that's why it's funny.

[tinythebunni]

rafe had his eyes on you for a while. you were new to the island and everyone wanted to be by you. you seemed to have this energy that attracted everyone, like a fucking magnet.

rafe couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you. you were everything he could want in a girl. tall, slim, curvy, shiny skin, beautiful hair, and most of all you were so feminine. he loved a girl he could take care of, provide for even.

he first saw you at the country club. you were clad in skimpy pink bikini with white polka dots, a white bow in the side of your hair, and white flats on. you read some magazine he couldn’t be bothered to even pay attention to. for right now, you were his main object of his attention. you could feel his eyes on you, you usually did.

you’d been here only two weeks and you knew all about the infamous rafe cameron. there were rumors he killed some cop and he had a drug problem.

people said he was one of the most fun people in the world but he would blow up in the quarter of a second. no girl could hold him down and he always got what he wanted. everyone wanted to be him or fuck him.

he’d made slight advances in the short amount of time you’ve been in the outer banks. holding a door open for you, paying for your drink, offering to apply your sunscreen while you tanned at the beach, the whole shabang.

you didn’t give him the slightest ounce of your attention. you wanted him to work for it. obviously you wanted him but you can’t let him know that! if rafe always got what he wanted then he wouldn’t mind a challenge.

you liked this game of cat and mouse you guys played. you didn’t know how much longer you could take it though. your friend daphne had invited you to some kook party at her stupid chad bfs house.

you went of course because rafe would be there. and you wanted him to see you, especially in this outfit. a lacy pink halter neck and pink mini skirt with ties on the sides. it showed just enough of skin to make him crazy. you wanted him to know what he was missing out on.

who knows? maybe tonight you’ll let him have a taste.

after a while of being at the party you started to get a bit bored. there were people making out in the corners, the alcohol tasted shit, and rafe still wasn’t here.

you were slightly buzzed and contemplating walking out when you saw him. he wore only a white wife beater and some denim jeans. what really caught your attention was the way his eyes were immediately on you when he came in.

he looked you over, greeting a few people, but not once did his eyes stray off you.

“top, i gotta go handle something. i’ll catch ya later.” and with that he strides over to you, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you into a room upstairs.

you had butterflies in your stomach. after a month he couldn’t take it anymore. you were excited to see what he would do now.

he swiftly locked the door and turned towards you with an almost primal look in his eyes. you giggle as he rubs the back of his neck and glares.

“do you think this shit is fuckin funny? been wanting you for months and you think it’s game. do you know how hard you make me? those skimpy fucking skirts and that coy smile.“

you were positive you looked like a fish out of water right now. you could feel a heat rising in your belly and a blush flushing your checks and neck.

“i didn’t know i affected you that much” you whispered.

“bullshit. i see you close your thighs each time i fucking look at you. can barely focus on anything when you’re near by.”

rafe is stalking towards you now, and you back up more and more until your knees finally hit the bed. he pushes you back until your lying on your back, with only your elbows and forearms holding you up.

he pulls your skirt over your tummy, glancing up at you as he places a kiss on your thigh.

“tell me this is okay. i needa know what you taste like. i can’t fucking stand it. so close to your pussy i can practically feel you on my tongue already.”

you give a shaky nod but that’s not enough.

he pinches the inside of your thigh and shakes his head with disapproval.

“no. baby i need words. use your voice, ain’t even touched you yet so i know you’re not fucked out already.”

“yes, yes rafe this is okay! please i need it” you whine while your lips pout slightly.

he was being so mean right now! is this what it felt like for him all this time?

he places a kiss on your clit over your panties and thumbs at your entrance. he smoothes your arousal over your lips and curses under his breath.

rafe takes his time making you whimper and whine. you push your hips up for some kind of friction, something more than he’s giving you. he uses his left hand to hold you down while his right pushes down on your clit, the pressure making your eyes roll back.

“calm down sweet thing. s’okay. m jus getting you ready. been dreaming bout this and i wanna take my time”

the cameron boy takes off your underwear and pauses. you can’t tell if he’s in awe or disgusted.

“so fucking pretty baby. is this all for me?” he questions as if he doesn’t already know the answer.

“rafe of course it is, do you see anybody else in this fucking room?” you’re mad now, you’re so fucking horny and he’s being a tease!

“alright alright” he laughs, placing a kiss to your thigh and looking up at you one last time.

“not letting you go after this is done. you’re mine.”

[crescenthistory]

did i hear you say you were writing another animagus!reader x regulus where they cuddle at hogwarts in each their cat forms? 🥺🥺

you know what they say, don't believe everything you hear... except for that, that's actually true

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, copious amounts of fluff, established relationship, bsf!remus, background wolfstar, reader and reg are kinda goody-two-shoes, platonic physical affection

Sweet Like Honey; Karma is a Cat

What a conundrum.

Remus should take this as an opportunity to be a good friend. You have spent almost two decades showing him exactly how to do that, playing the perfect part of the sister-he-never-had, loving and supporting him through life. For never turning your back on him, Remus is sure he owes you far more than what he can ever repay you, so he should try every single day. He should be a good friend.

But it was just too funny not to.

"At what point is it our duty to wake them up?" Sirius' voice whispered in his ear, shaking with mirth.

"I'm wondering the exact same thing." Remus dragged his words out to avoid making a decision. "How long do you think we can get away with?"

"I mean, they are already 15 minutes late to their Charms lesson, so we're dead men walking for not having said anything so far."

Remus is just able to tear his eyes away from you to glance sideways at Sirius, a too-fond smile already playing over his lips as he sees the exact mischievous look on his boyfriend's face that he expected. The look he fell in love with, not that Remus would be sappy enough to think about that right now. "So what you're saying is..."

"Leave it for a while longer?" Sirius grinned.

"Leave it for a while longer." Remus confirmed, whispering through a laugh, shifting his body further into Sirius' side as he lets his eyes fall back on you.

Well. On what he and Sirius knew to be you and Regulus, but what all other students in the library thought was just two cats sleeping in an armchair.

There was an elongated square of sunlight cast onto the middle of the seat by one of the beautifully decorated windows of the ancient castle, every cat's dream spot. The green velvet covering the seat of the mahogany chair was already riddled with fur from how long the two of you had been curled up around each other in it, white, grey and black hairs mixing together. Your forms might as well be mixing together too, fluid in a way that defied physics yet looked impossibly comfortable. Remus supposed you had to milk as much pleasure out of being an animagus as possible to make that whole mandrake leaf ordeal worth it. Though you could not answer even if he asked you right now, he was sure you at this very moment thought it was.

Remus' smile widened as he saw your chest rise dramatically as you breathed a sleepy huff, turning your head over slightly and burrowing it further into Regulus' plush neck. Your little cat bodies laid facing each other, arms around each other in a way he thought looked a little too much like a human hug.

It would be the absolute picture of serenity, two young things with no care in the world but each other – had it not been for the large clock ironically hanging right behind you, reminding you that you were not supposed to be here right now.

The four of you – five before James ran off the second he spotted red hair a few shelves back – had spent your two hours of shared free periods to read up together, for once actually doing a considerable amount of studying during it. Sirius was rubbing it in your faces, yours by consequence and Regulus' by design, that you still had one lesson left for the day when you abruptly stood up and demanded that you need a study break. When you then promptly dragged Regulus off into a corner, Sirius got the karma of a lifetime as he grew very concerned about what kind of break you would be engaging in. That was until the two cats lazily strolled back in and made themselves comfortable in the chair they now claimed as theirs.

Knowing you, Remus knew you hadn't intended on falling asleep, but maybe the fact that you did meant you really needed it. Yes, surely, you must have been exhausted and your body demanded a rest, so frankly he is quite an amazing friend for ensuring you listen to your health and your needs.

"Cats shouldn't be allowed to be that cute," Sirius all but grumbled as he looked at the two of them. "I should hate them on principle, but look at them Moony!"

"Quite literally no one is demanding that you hate cats on behalf of Padfoot, Siri."

"Padfoot is!" Sirius gave him a you can't argue with that logic look, but Remus knew he could.

"Ah, yes, my boyfriend the dog," he mused, cocking an eyebrow at Sirius who promptly reached out with his finger and pulled it back down.

"I could so give you a comeback to that, but I respect you too much not to say it in public," Sirius muttered and Remus couldn't fight his laughter.

Something moving in his periphery brought his attention back on you, seeing you shift even more into Regulus which caused him to begin stirring as well. Go back to sleep, go back to sleep, Remus whispered to you in his mind.

As always, you didn't listen to him, and ever so slowly Remus saw you peel one yellow eye open, blinking blearily at the room before turning your head back towards Regulus. The greyest of your four paws came up to gently pet at the black cat's neck, almost as if you were smoothing over the fur you had ruffled in your sleep. It made Remus' heart ache with love for you both, even as his stomach was slowly dropping.

A soft prrt! escaped Regulus before he instantly began purring and tightening his hold on you with his little cat paws, nosing his head against yours. A kind of softness Regulus rarely let himself fall into in public, though this was arguably a grey area.

It almost looked like you were about to be driven back into sleep by the vibrations moving through you from Regulus' chest. Remus noticed Sirius paying attention raptly as well, which was unfortunate.

Because when you shot up out of your seat with a small squeak, jumping as if startled as you looked towards the clock – now a good 30 minutes into your 45 minutes lesson – Sirius let out a loud bark of laughter. It earned him more than a few hushes from those around, but most importantly, it earned him your head snapping around to look at him with eyes that could rival a basilisk’s.

Considering Remus was already on a streak of making disloyal choices towards his loved ones, he didn't fight his instinct to stand up from his seat and back up when you ran and jumped onto the table right in front of Sirius' face with a hiss. You slapped at him with a clawless paw to which Sirius whispered something along the lines of "hey, knock it off, be cool" while trying to hold you at arm's length. You scowled at him as aggressively as any cat could, raising your back slightly before you arguably tut-ed at him and jumped back down.

Remus fought for his life to not laugh.

You turned around and ran over to Regulus who was still lazily stretching and gaining his bearings, not an ounce of care shown towards the near-assault of his brother. Nudging him with your head towards the end of the chair, he got the point and jumped down, already falling into his usual graceful mannerisms.

Together you scurried off back into your corner.

When you came back a mere minute later Remus swore there was no difference in your facial expression. Remus carefully walked around the table – where Sirius was still sitting with a petulant pout – hands up in surrender.

You crossed your arms, leaning your weight onto your right hip as you glared at your oldest friend, clearly expecting him to speak first. Behind you Regulus was strolling over, looking like he was trying really hard to be miffed but falling just short.

“How dare you,” you said – and it was a statement, not a question.

“In my defence,” Remus started, hands still up but so were the corners of his lips. “You two looked adorable.”

“That will surely hold up real well with the professor,” you scoffed.

“We didn’t make you fall asleep, princess,” Sirius grumbled to which you turned to him with a bitch please look Remus is fairly certain you picked up from Sirius.

“Apologies for expecting my friends to have my back. How stupid of me.”

“Very stupid indeed,” Sirius murmured as he took a sip of his coffee, grimacing when he found it to be cold. He nearly spilled some when Regulus gave him a light slap up the back of the head.

Remus figured it was time to pull out the big guns.

He manoeuvred his held up hands to be stretched out towards you instead with a rueful smile as he inched closer and closer. You had a moody expression still, eyeing him with suspicion, but you didn’t move out of the way. He dared make a small cooing sound as he brought you into a hug, coddling you like one would a child after they hurt themselves to keep them from crying.

“‘M super super sorry, lovie,” Remus half-muttered half-laughed into your hair as he rocked you a little bit. Your arms were still crossed against his chest, but you were leaning into him. 

“Don’t believe you, Loopy.” 

Regulus snorted at that and Remus looked up at him over his shoulder and the boys shared a look of humour and shared love for you that warmed his stomach. Though when Sirius nipped at Regulus’ sleeve to get his attention, the faux-miffed expression was plastered right back on the younger boy’s face.

Siblings, Remus thought and chuckled a bit into your hair.

“You laughing at me?” you questioned incredulously. 

“No, I’m laughing at our boys.” His response was quick to rid himself of any further accusations.

You instantly nodded against his shoulder. “Understandable.”

“Hey! Don’t bring me into this, amour.” Regulus' chiding tone was met with you uncrossing your arms at last, reaching a hand out behind you blindly, which he immediately took and squeezed with his own.

You let your other arm curl around Remus’ back. Forgiveness at last.

He pulled back to look down at you with a goofy grin, and was pleased to see you could no longer contain yours either. “You were really cute. Didn’t want to disturb you.”

You gave him a look. “Right, no laughing at our expense whatsoever.”

“Never.”

You gave him a light shove while you snorted, pushing him away from you. “This is what I get for my sacrifice for you?” you said as you shook your head at him not much unlike McGonagall would during detention.

“I would argue you got a pretty sweet deal with that sacrifice, doll, seeing as you can curl up with your equally sacrificial boyfriend and sleep in the library whenever.” Sirius nodded solemnly, while jutting his chin towards Regulus. “This one would never let that happen in any other form.”

“Oh, I’m sure I could’ve convinced him,” you replied, looking at Regulus with an almost salacious smile. As if to prove your point – or just to prove Sirius wrong – he came up to stand closer behind you, arms going around your waist. You leaned your weight back against him with a happy sigh.

“Disgusting,” was all Sirius offered.

You raised an eyebrow at him before turning your head sideways to give Regulus a short, sweet kiss.

“Disgusting,” he groaned once more, pressing the backs of his palms into his eyes.

“Karma,” you and Remus sing-songed at him at the exact same time in the exact same tone. 

Your eyes met in surprise before you both burst out laughing, any pretend fight seeping out of you as you both beamed at each other.

Siblings, Remus found himself thinking once more.

“Well, now that we don’t have a lesson to get to anymore, I suggest we get out of here,” Regulus sighed, squeezing your hips as if to underline his point.

“Where we heading?” Sirius asked as he swung his legs out to get up.

“I don’t know where you’re going,” you started. “But Remus will go hunt down a certain Head Boy and get him to make up some excuse to Professor Flitwick for why Regulus and I did not attend class so that our absence is removed from the records.” You put on your sweetest smile as you turned towards Remus at the last part.

“Regulus, what have you done with her?!” Sirius stage-whispered his accusation at Regulus who only responded with a certain impolite gesture.

“And why would James do that?” Remus drawls, certain that his entertainment was written all over his face.

“Oh, I’m sure he owes you for something, you figure it out.” You spoke as you tried to put your bag over your shoulder to leave, but Remus and Regulus both reached for it at the same time. They gave each other a look, trying to decide who will take the literal burden, before they both turned to Sirius and dropped the bag in his lap. He rolled his eyes at the both of them, but pulled the strap over his free shoulder nonetheless. 

“You are quite the minx, aren’t you?” Remus asked, going for chiding and landing somewhere along the lines of compliance.

“Learned from the best, Rem!” you cheered brightly, pressing quick smacking kisses on both his and Sirius’ cheek.

Before they could muster up a response or a reaction, you had already hauled Regulus down the halls of the library towards the exit with half-heartedly hushed giggles. The raven-haired boy looked over his shoulder right before you turned the corner with a barely-contained smile, inhibitions straw thin in your presence.

Remus understood him well.

He turned to Sirius with a pleased smile to find him already admiring his reactions from where he stood beside him.

“I get why they’re cats,” Remus mused as he interlaced their fingers, following the general direction you ran off to, ready to hunt down James and possibly claw up some furniture. 

“Because they’re adorable but also massive menaces?”

Remus breathed out contently. “Yeah.”

[verycoolusername1]

But Two Though?

Summary: In which you're so in love with your boyfriend that you see yourself starting a family with him and you obviously had to sing about it!

Quinn Hughes x Singer!reader

Warning: romantic themes, kissing, pet names, mentions of children, mentions of parenting, and mentions of sex.

A/N: even tho it's a singer reader this imagine also has AFAB!reader(cause of the song lmao) I still use they/them pronouns, no need to worry about that.

Juno is literally so good, and since I gave Nico bed chem, I just HAD to give quinn Juno! Hope you enjoy. And I had this fun idea of embarrassing Quinn when he's with his family on stage last night soooooo

You were estastic when you found out Quinn and his family would be at your concert tonight.

You brushed your hair for what felt like the hundredth time as you calmed your nerves.

Your manager later called you to get on stage, and you rushed there immediately. Your fans cheered as they saw you with your guitar.

"Hi everyone!" You waved to them all.

The crowd roared in excitement as they saw you and sang along to your many songs till the very last one. Little did they know that you had a little surprise.

You finished your last set, and when you didn't go off the stage like you normally would have, your fans grew in confusion but nonetheless enjoyed it.

"You didn't think the show was over, did you?" You chuckled teasingly. "I just have a little special song."

Your fans gasped as the Hughes looked at Quinn for an answer that never came.

"I wrote this song but I'm like never gonna release it." You chuckled. "Might give it to sabs- Sabrina or something. She'll certainly know what to do with it."

Your fans cheered at the slip-up not nonetheless you continued.

"I can't say much about this song, but... it is different from my other songs, different from older and five seconds flat." You explained. You and Quinn were quite private about your relationship, so you didn't want to go overboard on the speech. "I don't know how to describe it, but it made me feel things I didn't even know I would ever feel. This song is called Juno, like the movie Enjoy."

Your fans cheered to your speech as you strung notes on your guitar.

"Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing, oh yeah you just get it." You sang. "Whole package babe, I like the way you fit god bless your dad genetics."

Your mind flashes to you and Quinn in bed, cuddling next to each other in the night. The love you two shared never fading only growing stronger after that night.

"Will this change something between us?" You asked, looking up at him.

"What? No, never. We're still us, you know that." He reassured you.

"Still us." You confirmed in his hold.

Quinn looked at you in confusion. He knew your songwriting, it was a shock that this song was more upbeat and not lyrical there was a hint of fun behind it.

"I know you want my touch for life. If you love me right, then who knows," You hummed. "I might let you make me Juno."

He knew this song was about him, but how? Unless... Oh... oh

You saw Quinn as he interacted with J.T.'s kids and how easy it was to do so. It made your heart swell.

Natalie came up behind you. "You want one, don't you?"

You put a hand on your heart, currently not expecting it. "What?"

"A kid," She clarifies.

Your face flushed as you realized you have been caught. "I mean sure one day but it's too early."

"Well it doesn't help to try now, talk to him." She encouraged.

"Believe me, we've been trying." You chuckled dryly, Natalie on the other hand laughed loud.

"What's so funny?" Quinn was in front of you two now, holding one of the kids at his hip and you couldn't help but wonder... what if that was your kid?

"Oh nothing, Y/N just telling me what an amazing cook you are." Natalie winks at you as she takes her leave with her kid in tow.

Quinn eyed her suspiciously. "Okay... what were you two really talking about?"

"Exactly what she said, how you're a great cook, an amazing one." You lied through your teeth.

Quinn knew you were lying, if anything you was a much better cook than he was but he decided to let it slide and hugged you from behind the rest of the time.

You continued on with the song, getting out of your comfort zone more and more with each line. "Adore me, hold me and explore me, mark your territory tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one."

Luke hums. "This song is definitely was not what I expected."

Jack exclaims. "I'm sorry, did they just say what I think they just said? They just said they're horny on stage."

"You don't have to repeat it." Quinn mutters, his face getting flushed as the song came to a close.

Ellen looked at her son lovingly. "Been together five years and you still get shy when you hear a song they wrote about you."

"Let's not tease him too much he still has yet to ask the question." Jim joked.

"Dad," Quinn groaned.

"You can borrow my ring sweetie, the replica that is." Ellen offers.

"No mom it's not that..." Quinn trailed off.

Jack being the first one to realize, gasped aloud, and shook Luke back and forth. "You already have a ring!"

"I'm going to wait for them backstage." Quinn began to walk away.

"At this rate, we're gonna have to propose for him." Luke mutters, Ellen hit him on the head as a response as they followed Quinn.

When the rest of the family got there, you was already in Quinn's arms looking at him lovingly. They decided to go into their own conversations, letting you two talk alone.

"Did you like the song at the end?" Your voice began timid, the more you grew vulnerable.

Quinn hums. "Yeah, it was nice. Didn't know you wanted a kid with me."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to tell you about that." You look away from his gaze but he quickly gets it back.

"I want to have kids with you too Y/N. If I wanted anyone to make me a father it would be you." Quinn admits.

"You really that?" You said hopefully.

"Of course I do, but I would want to do something first before we get started." He says.

You grow confused. "And what would that be honey?"

"I would like to marry you." Quinn says without hesitation.

Your eyes widened in size as you took in his words. "You want to marry me?"

"I don't have the ring with me right now and I love you too much to say just one speech but I do know that I see myself spending the rest of my life with you, if you'll have me." Quinn looks at you hopefully.

"I'll always want you Quinn, I would be glad to marry you." You caressed his cheek, his eyes closing at your touch.

"I love you guys but please do not make me an uncle tonight." Jack says.

You both glared at Jack who quickly back off, he mutters a sorry and says he'll meet them in the car, Luke joining him.

Once they're gone, Quinn looks at his parents with a shy smile. "We're getting married."

[seongwars]

strangers by nature | i

Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor & fluff in later chapters Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever. Word Count: 6.8K Warnings: angst no comfort, swearing, suggestive content, puppy!!!!

Fic Masterlist

a/n: here's the first part to the revamped mingi drabble series someone tell me to finish my other wips

“Don’t fuck this up for me,” you hissed, slipping on your heels and casting a sharp look in his direction.

Mingi, lounging by the door with his tie half-done, didn’t even look up. He adjusted his cufflinks instead, his movements slow, deliberate, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You think I’m the one who’s going to mess this up?” he replied, his voice laced with mockery. 

“You’re lucky I’m even bothering to show up at all. God knows I could be elsewhere.”

“Did you forget that you sabotaged last year’s event when you showed up completely shitfaced?” 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you hissed, hoping no one would notice. Mingi just laughed, a bitter, mocking sound that rang louder than you’d intended to speak as you pulled him aside.

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” he slurred, his words coming slow and thick, as if savoring each one. “But look at you, all dressed up like it matters.” 

His gaze raked over you, and for the first time, you felt small—like everything you’d done, everything you cared about, was nothing but a performance in his eyes.

Throughout the evening, he continued, unleashing a trail of subtle digs and outright insults, each one cutting deeper than the last. 

“No, I’m not much into charity—though I guess marrying Ms. Choi counts,” he drawled. You felt the sting of the insult, a wave of humiliation creeping up as he smirked at your expression.

And as he went on, his words got uglier, accusations laced with venomous insinuations about your foundation, about the people you’d invited, about you. 

“You know what’s funny? This is all she has. She begged me to be here, begged me to care. Pathetic, right?”

It was the cruelty of it that made you flinch. He looked at you, pleased with himself, with that twisted smile that told you he had come tonight for one reason only: to break you down.

Mingi didn’t hate you. He didn’t even care enough to despise you. Hatred would have required him to feel something at all, but to Mingi, you were nothing more than an obligation, a piece of his life he had to endure when the occasion called for it. 

You had to exist in the same spaces as him, but only on his terms, only when he wanted to remind you how little you meant to him.

Mingi had taken so much from you already—had eroded every bit of independence and dignity you’d fought to hold onto. But the annual Gold Gala, hosted by your foundation, was different. It was one of the few things left that was still unmistakably yours.

The Cromer Foundation wasn’t quite the classroom you’d once dreamed of teaching in, but it was something. It was your way of keeping that dream of becoming a music teacher alive. It was a way to support arts education, a way to pour hope and passion into the future. 

It was the only part of this new life you’d been forced into that felt like it had real purpose, the only place where you could still feel yourself making an impact, even if it meant facing Mingi’s ire every step of the way.

“I had to work my ass off,” you bit out, voice trembling with the strain of holding back everything you wanted to scream. 

“I had to clean up your mess to convince donors to continue supporting the foundation after you nearly destroyed it last time. This is the one thing I have left that actually matters to me.” 

The words were punctuated by the ache in your throat, your heart pounding as if it might burst from the sheer weight of your frustration.

“I’m not begging you to be there. I never asked for that. But I think we both know that neither of us wants to hear our families complaining about your belligerence, especially since I made concessions to let her be there.”

Your voice caught on the word, but you forced it out. He knew exactly who you meant—her, the woman he’d flaunted just enough to humiliate you but never enough for his family to call him out on it. 

Jeong Ahri. His first love, the girl who knew him before he became what he was now. She was also his best friend’s sister, the one woman who, even in her absence, always held a piece of him. Just the sound of her name was enough for him to lay his arms down. 

Mingi didn’t consider himself religious. He’d never felt the pull toward faith, despite his family’s insistence on portraying themselves as god-fearing, pious people. But the day his father announced that he was considering a merger, weighing options to secure their legacy through an alliance, Mingi prayed for the first time he could remember. 

But his father chose otherwise. Mingi hadn’t heard his father’s reasoning in detail—only the clipped statement that “it was decided” and that it would be you instead of Ahri. It wasn’t that she was lacking in education or accomplishments; her qualifications were impeccable. 

But you were different, his father had said. More refined. More…controlled.

Where Ahri was unpredictable, a free spirit with an uncontainable passion that Mingi had always adored, you were composed, you brought a stability that his father believed Ahri could never offer, and to him, that was paramount. It was a choice made for optics and security, the perfect union on paper, a marriage that would uphold the family’s reputation.

Now here he was, bound not to her, but to you—an arrangement forged by titles and alliances, with love considered an afterthought at best. This marriage wasn’t just a partnership but a meticulously crafted piece of his family’s foundation. 

And you—perhaps unwillingly, perhaps reluctantly—were the chosen piece in this carefully woven tapestry of alliances.

“How could I forget? We’re putting on a show, some picture-perfect life that everyone else could admire.” His gaze was sharp, unyielding. 

“Picture-perfect life?” You let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh in the quiet of the room. 

“Please. This is far from that. All I wanted was to make something meaningful out of this sham of a marriage, to salvage whatever was left of my life.”

“Meaningful?” he sneered, his eyes narrowing. 

"You think you're the only one making sacrifices?" he snapped, his voice low but venomous. 

"I lost any chance at a real life the moment I agreed to marry some pathetic charity case." The words dripped with contempt, his gaze locked onto yours as though daring you to react.

“Playing the victim as always,” you replied coldly, your gaze steady as you met Mingi’s glare. His jaw clenched, a flicker of something dark passing over his eyes, but you pressed on,  undeterred. 

"Maybe you should have fought harder against your parents instead of just rolling over every time they threw you a command. Including this marriage.”

That struck a nerve. Mingi’s expression twisted, and for the first time, you saw a crack in his armor. He scoffed, but there was no humor in it—just a bitter edge, sharp and unrestrained.

“You think I didn’t try? They didn’t care who I spent my time with as long as they got what they wanted—a merger, a legacy. So I went along with it. It wasn’t worth the battle when I already had Ahri.”

His words stung, sharper than you’d anticipated, cutting right through you. But as you stared at him, searching for any hint of regret, any flicker of hesitation, there was…nothing. Just the same cold, unfeeling expression that had worn down your patience over time.

“And here we are—both miserable because you took the easy way out,” you sighed. 

“All those sacrifices you keep talking about, all those things you supposedly gave up? They mean nothing if you can’t even own up to them. Including marrying the ‘charity case’ you despise so much.”

You saw his eyes harden, his shoulders tense, but you refused to back down, leaning into the truth you both knew but never spoke.

“You wanted a convenient life, and you got it. But don’t you dare try to make me the villain just because you couldn’t stand up to them—or to yourself.”

You held his gaze, a cold, bitter silence stretching between you. Without another word, you turned, steeling yourself for the night ahead, knowing that the only thing left between you was the hollow image of the life you failed to create.

⋆

Your wedding to Mingi was more of a business transaction than a celebration. The ceremony took place in an office that bore more resemblance to a boardroom than a place for vows. 

The only witnesses were your parents, your cousins Jongho and San, and Mingi’s best friend, Yunho. All were seated with neutral expressions, gazes locked on the officiant as if marking the completion of a financial report.

You barely remembered the words exchanged. There was no music, no flowers—just the murmured vows, the scratch of a pen signing your names, and the cold weight of a ring slipped onto your finger by a man who didn’t even meet your eyes. 

When it was over, the officiant closed the book with a finality that made your stomach drop—a reminder that there was no turning back now. Your parents offered restrained congratulations, their smiles polite but empty. 

Only your cousins seemed to look at you with genuine sympathy, understanding the weight of what you’d just committed to. Mingi’s mother, on the other hand, wore a sharp, proud smile, one devoid of joy but full of satisfaction. To her, this wasn’t a marriage; it was a completed transaction.

Following the ceremony, a small reception was held in the upstairs lounge. Glasses were raised, and toasts were made to "a prosperous future," though they felt painfully empty. 

Mingi barely spoke to you, instead engaging in brief, clipped conversations with his father and yours about the two families’ businesses and the outlook for the next quarter.

You sat in silence, barely tasting the champagne in your glass, as you watched the people around you discuss the "success" of this union. You wanted to scream, to tell them this wasn’t a union, just an arrangement—a legal binding that had stripped you of any choice you once had.

The room felt cold, and as you glanced at the man who was now your husband, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the beginning of something lonely.

You had spent years nurturing a different dream—one that had nothing to do with boardrooms or mergers. You had wanted to teach music, to live a quiet, meaningful life, far from the shadows of your family’s empire. 

Drawn to the idea of leaving it all behind, you envisioned moving abroad to pass on your love for music to young, eager minds. The plan was simple: save enough, book a one-way ticket, and disappear into the life you wanted. 

But when you told your family about your plans, their reactions left you stunned. They couldn't see a future for you as a teacher—not when you were the heir to the Choi Group, not when your last name carried so much weight. 

You fought them on it, desperate to hold onto the life you wanted. Shouting matches stretched late into the night, but when arguments proved fruitless, desperation drove you to action. 

Just as you reached the final hurdle, minutes away from your flight, the authorities stopped you. Your heart dropped as you realized just how deep your parents' control ran—how their reach extended even across oceans you hadn't yet crossed.

By the time you both left the reception, it was clear there would be no honeymoon, no illusion of a romantic escape. Mingi went to his own car without a word, and you followed in your own to the penthouse, wondering how a marriage could feel like a prison on the very first day.

Crystal chandeliers cast their glow across the gala hall, the soft hum of conversation mingling with the gentle clink of champagne flutes. This event was one of the few things you could call your own—a charitable foundation you’d helped establish to support arts education. It wasn’t quite the classroom you’d once dreamed of, but it was something—a way to keep that dream alive, even in the world you’d been forced into. 

You moved among the guests, offering a polished smile and gracious words about the foundation’s mission, with Mingi at your side, his arm draped around your waist as you made the rounds together.

To the crowd, you looked like the perfect couple—a united front. But you felt the coldness between you, the way Mingi’s hand barely touched your waist, how his gaze slid away from yours the moment anyone’s attention drifted.

The evening was moving along smoothly until you noticed her—the woman standing near the bar, her eyes fixed on Mingi. Dressed in a red gown, she radiated confidence, her gaze unflinching as she watched him. She was the shadow that trailed him, the one he turned to whenever he could no longer bear the weight of pretending with you.

Beside you, Mingi’s posture tensed almost imperceptibly, his hand lingering at the small of your back. He noticed her too, of course; he’d be a fool not to. Yet his grip on you remained firm, as if bound by an invisible script dictating the image you two were expected to maintain. Nothing amiss, nothing unseemly, as though the weight of her presence hadn’t shaken him at all.

To anyone who looked closely, the story between them was clear: her gaze was steady, defiant even, a silent reminder that she held a part of him you would never touch.

This was meant to be your night—the one place to grieve the shattered pieces of your own dreams, had you succeeded in escaping the clutches of this arrangement. 

But as you held yourself in place, the warmth of Mingi’s hand was nothing but a reminder that even when he stood at your side, his heart was somewhere else entirely.

You returned to the penthouse alone, the buzz of the gala still ringing in your ears, though the evening itself felt hollow and cold now that you were by yourself. The laughter and polite applause, the countless exchanges of small talk and polished smiles—none of it seemed to matter. 

Mingi had left your side almost as soon as the event began winding down, disappearing into the night with the excuse of business matters to attend to. You didn’t need to ask; you already knew where he was headed and with whom.

You weren’t bothered by Mingi’s connection to Ahri. Sure, he brought her to the penthouse on your wedding night, but you understood that their story existed long before you ever came into the picture—a chapter of his life that, despite the complexities, didn’t take away from your own sense of self-worth or purpose in this arrangement.

The memory of that night still lingered. You had walked into the penthouse to find Ahri there, her laughter filling the space as she sat comfortably on the sofa, a glass of wine in hand. 

Mingi was by her side, his arm draped casually around her shoulders, his fingers tracing patterns along her thigh. A soft smile played on his lips—a smile you didn’t know he was capable of, one that felt like a taunt.

And when you retired to your room, the primal sounds from the both of them escaped through the confines of Mingi’s bedroom. 

“Shit, just like that, right there, Mingi!”

“Fuuuuck, takin’ me so well.”

You knew they were both trying to hurt you, flaunting how intimate their relationship was in front of you, as if to remind you of your place. Their calculated cruelty seeped into your consciousness like poison, amplifying your insecurities and sowing seeds of self-doubt. 

Every laugh, every touch between them was a dagger to your heart, a reminder of the love and warmth you were denied. The pain was a constant, gnawing ache, leaving you feeling more alone and unworthy with each passing moment.

You had hoped, at the very least, that Mingi might see you as more than an obligation—perhaps even as an ally. Instead, you were nothing more than a prop in his life, a fixture he resented. If only he’d see you for who you really were—not the enemy in this tangled web, but someone who could make this shared fate a little less lonely.

You kicked off your heels, draped your coat over the back of the sofa, and sank down, staring out at the glittering city lights beyond the penthouse windows. Loneliness settled over you as you replayed the night’s events. 

Your gaze drifted to the piano in the corner. For a moment, you could almost see him there—Hongjoong, with his fingers drifting effortlessly over the keys as he coaxed a melody from the instrument. 

He had been the son of your piano teacher, your best friend, and your first love. You remembered the way he’d listened to your dreams, encouraging you to reach higher, even when you could see the exhaustion creeping into his features, the shadow of his terminal illness never far behind. 

“Would you still believe in me now?” you murmured to the empty room, the silence thickening with the question. You knew what Hongjoong would say. 

“Fuck it, sell your shares and leave. Start over. Eat the rich.”

He had shown you what passion looked like, not only for music but for life itself, even as he faced an uncertain future. He had given you strength and taught you resilience. The long afternoons spent together, his hands guiding yours over the piano keys, had been a sanctuary from the expectations and pressures of your family.

The silence in the room seemed to shift, becoming less oppressive, more contemplative. You could almost hear Hongjoong's voice, softer now, more encouraging. 

"You've got this," he would say. "Just take the first step."

You closed your eyes. Tomorrow would come with its demands and pretenses, but for now, you surrendered to the silence, letting it carry you into a sleep that softened the loneliness—if only for a little while.

Ahri’s laughter filled the confined space of the car, soft and unrestrained as she collapsed against Mingi’s chest, her fingers drawing idle patterns along his jawline. There was a glint of mischief in her eyes, a playful daring that stirred something in him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Your wife looked like she wanted to kill me,” Ahri giggled. She knew exactly what she was to him—a temptation, a release, a break from the predictability of his life.

Mingi only smirked, his large hands cupping the curve of her ass with ease as he let out a low chuckle, brushing his thumb along her skin as if there wasn’t a care in the world.

“I would’ve stopped her,” he murmured, the words casual, devoid of any true weight.

Ahri tilted her head, her eyes searching his face, a smile curling at her lips. She could read the lack of hesitation in his expression, the cold confidence of a man who knew he was untouchable, who knew he had nothing to lose by being here with her. 

“You’d really do that for me?” she asked, her voice soft and playful, but she knew the answer. 

They both did. She didn’t need him to reassure her, didn’t need promises or apologies—she was here because she understood exactly who he was, what he wanted, and how little he cared about the impact it had on anyone else.

“Of course,” he said simply, brushing his lips against her neck with an easy familiarity. His smirk grew as he pulled her closer, rutting up against her with a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

The idea of hurting you wasn’t something he dwelled on; it was merely collateral, an afterthought in a life where his own desires came first. 

To him, this wasn’t betrayal—it was freedom. Being with Ahri wasn’t about guilt or regret. It was about the thrill of defiance, the joy of stepping beyond the lines and indulging in the part of himself he’d never fully let go. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Mingi suggested, his voice low, laced with an eagerness that hinted at the thrill of escaping somewhere no one could find them.

The steady hum of the engine filled the silence between them as Mingi guided the car along the winding roads leading out of the city. The quiet hum of the engine settled between them, and Mingi’s grip on the wheel tightened as he let the night swallow them whole.

His gaze flickered to Ahri, watching the way she leaned back, eyes half-closed, utterly carefree. She was always like this with him—at ease, undemanding, dangerous in all the ways that made him forget everything else. With her, he could let go of every responsibility, every burden weighing him down. 

The soft, velvety vocals of jazz singer Kim Taehyung drifted through the radio, wrapping around the pair in a warm embrace. For a fleeting second, Mingi allowed himself to sink into the fantasy. Here, with her beside him, the world outside felt like a distant dream, nothing more than whispers beyond the car windows.

But dreams eventually come to an end. 

Out of nowhere, a pair of blinding headlights burst through the night, a harsh, unforgiving brightness that tore through the calm. Mingi’s eyes widened, but the oncoming vehicle was so close, so sudden, that there was barely a second to react. His hands jerked on the wheel, trying to swerve, but the road was narrow, and there was nowhere to go.

In an instant, everything blurred into chaos. The impact hit them head-on, a deafening crunch of metal against metal, a violent jolt that rattled through the car as it skidded off the road. Mingi’s head slammed back against the seat, his vision blurring as the car spun, skidding to a brutal stop against the guardrail. The world seemed to fall silent in the aftermath, a surreal quiet settling over them.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard the faint wail of sirens approaching, growing louder with every passing second. As the darkness closed in, Mingi felt the weight of it all—the choices he’d made, the life he’d led, and the person waiting for him at home—weighing down on him, filling him with a regret he could no longer ignore.

⋆

It was after midnight when the phone rang, the sudden sound breaking the uneasy stillness of the penthouse. In your sleepy stupor, you hesitated for a moment before reaching for it, your heart pounding in your chest. A vague sense of dread built as you picked up the receiver upon seeing your mother-in-law’s contact photo.

“Y/N! Oh, thank goodness! Mingi—he’s in the hospital! He was in a terrible accident and is in critical condition. Your father-in-law and I are on our way now!”

Mingi. Critical condition. Hospital. The world seemed to tilt on its side, and you felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving you struggling to breathe.

“Wh-what happened?” you stammered, barely able to get the words out as you clutched the phone, your knuckles white. “How… how bad is it?”

“It’s bad. They… they’re not sure if he’ll make it through the night.”

In that instant, any resentment or past grievances faded into the background. You couldn’t deny the strange ache settling in your chest as you thought of Mingi lying in that hospital bed, perhaps alone, facing something he could not fight or push away.

You didn’t remember much of the drive to the hospital. The city lights blurred past you as you sped through the streets, your heart pounding so loudly it drowned out every other thought. All you could focus on was getting to him.

When you finally reached the emergency wing, the harsh, fluorescent lights made you feel even more out of place. You spotted his family first—his mother and father huddled together on the worn hospital chairs. 

Mrs. Song was barely holding it together, face streaked with tears as she leaned against her husband, clutching his hand so tightly her knuckles had turned white. Her shoulders shook with quiet sobs that she tried to stifle, but each gasp tore through the silence, raw and full of anguish.

It was odd, seeing her show so much emotion for her son when, for so many years, her presence in his life had been so distant. There was no trace of the stoic woman who had always seemed to keep the world at arm's length. Here in the unforgiving lights of the hospital, she looked like any mother, grieving, terrified of losing her son.

Your own parents were there too, solemn and tense as they stood a little to the side, offering whatever silent support they could. 

When your mother noticed you, her gaze softened, and she reached out, wrapping you in a brief, tight hug. Yet even in her embrace, there was a certain restraint, like she wasn’t sure how to give more, wasn’t sure how to bridge the space between you in a way that felt natural. 

But then you turned, and that’s when you saw him.

Through the window of the ICU room, Mingi lay on the hospital bed, looking nothing like the man you knew. He was pale, his face bruised and battered, his body still and weak beneath the sheets. Tubes and wires connected him to a series of machines, each beeping and whirring to keep him alive, monitoring his vitals after hours of surgery to stop the relentless bleeding.

It was a jarring sight, seeing someone usually so full of life, even if that life had often been directed at you in anger. Now he seemed so small, vulnerable, a shadow of the man who had once looked at you with such disdain. 

Despite all the bitterness, you couldn’t deny the weight settling heavily in your chest as you found yourself wishing he would open his eyes, even if it meant another one of his sharp, dismissive looks.

“H-Hey.” 

You whipped around to find Yunho. His shoulders were slouched, exhaustion evident in the dark circles under his eyes, and worry etched into his expression. He offered you a small, tired smile, a weak attempt at reassurance that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hi,” you murmured, tearing your eyes away from Mingi. 

The silence between you and Yunho was thick with unspoken concerns, a tension that felt almost palpable.

“I know things between you two have never been easy,” Yunho murmured, his voice low and hesitant. He avoided your gaze, eyes lingering on Mingi through the glass. His tone was careful, a mix of sympathy and regret. 

“I’m sorry that he’s been awful to you. My sister, too.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned. For so long, the hostility from both Mingi and Ahri had been an almost constant presence in your life, a simmering resentment that had shaped almost every single facet of your relationship with your husband.

But hearing Yunho acknowledge it so openly was…strange. Disarming, even. You weren’t used to someone seeing it, let alone speaking about it without any pretense or defensiveness. In his soft, understanding tone, you could sense not just sympathy, but regret.

“How’s Ahri?” you finally asked. 

“She’s pretty banged up,” he replied, rubbing a hand over his face, exhaustion evident. 

“But doctors say she’s expected to leave here in a few days. Nothing too serious, thankfully.” He hesitated, his eyes drifting back to Mingi. 

“But Mingi is still pretty touch-and-go.”

You could hear it in Yunho’s voice—the worry, the fear that his best friend might not make it. It was a stark reminder of just how fragile life was, how quickly things could change in the span of a heartbeat.

“He’s got so much fight in him,” you acknowledged softly, as if you were trying to convince yourself.

“If anyone can pull through this, it’s him. He just… he has to.”

Mingi’s presence, for all the ways it had complicated your life, was something you weren’t ready to lose. The ache in your chest betrayed the truth: you wanted him to fight, to come back, to have the chance to be more than the sum of his anger and bitterness.

“Hey! Can you hear me?” A voice cut through the silence, clear and sharp. 

Mingi’s eyes fluttered open to an otherworldly darkness, pierced only by the eerie glow of dim, floating lanterns. He felt weightless, almost translucent, his last memory fragmented—the screech of tires, the blinding headlights, the sound of metal twisting. He tried to move, but his limbs felt disconnected from him, as if he were less a person and more a shadow drifting in an endless void.

“Where… where am I?” he whispered, his voice echoing through the vast emptiness.

A figure emerged from the darkness, wearing a calm, almost unsettling smile. Dressed in flowing black robes, the man stood before him, his gaze sharp and cat-like.

“My courtroom,” the man replied, his voice smooth but cold. “People know me as The Judge, but you can call me Wooyoung.” 

His eyes gleamed as he looked down at Mingi, as if he could see every mistake, every regret, every flaw carved into his very soul.

“I’m…I’m dead?”

Wooyoung tilted his head, his gaze unwavering, assessing Mingi as if he were little more than a curious object. 

“Not necessarily,” he replied, a slight, detached smile curving his lips. 

“At least, not until you plead your case.”

A chill ran through Mingi, spreading from the base of his spine up to his shoulders. He was no longer in the realm of the living, yet neither was he truly dead. This wasn’t a dream, nor was it a fleeting punishment. 

This was judgment.

“It seems you have unfinished business,” Wooyoung continued, his tone as calm as if they were discussing the weather. 

“Regrets. Mistakes. Wrongdoings that tether you to the life you left behind. And now, you will face them.”

“W-What…” Mingi stammered, struggling to find words, every attempt at forming a coherent thought falling apart under the man’s unrelenting stare. 

“What… unfinished business?”

Wooyoung’s expression twisted, a mix of disbelief and disdain crossing his face as he raised a brow. 

“Really?” he said, his tone heavy with incredulity. He let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking his head as if Mingi’s question had been the most ridiculous thing he’d heard in centuries. 

Wooyoung’s eyes gleamed as he summoned a scroll into his hand, the parchment unfurling with a dramatic flourish and rolling all the way down to the ground. An endless list of Mingi’s transgressions and misdeeds spilled forth, each offense scrawled in elaborate detail, stretching on as if it would never end.

“Selfish. Petulant. You’re the kind of person who only considers what you want, regardless of who gets hurt.” His voice grew sharper, each word landing like a blow. 

“You cheated on your wife without a second thought, treating her like she was nothing more than an inconvenience in your life. And let’s not forget—” he tilted his head, a dark gleam in his eyes, “bullying other kids in middle school.”

Mingi felt the words hit him like a punch to the gut, dredging up memories he had buried long ago, things he’d justified or ignored. He shifted uncomfortably, every accusation pulling him deeper into his own shame.

“That… that was so long ago,” he whispered, barely audible. “I was a kid. I didn’t know any better.”

“Ah, so ignorance is your excuse?” Wooyoung’s tone was icy, unimpressed. 

Mingi swallowed, his mind flashing through a thousand faces, fragments of past encounters that blurred together but still left an unsettling weight in his chest. All the people he’d dismissed, manipulated, pushed aside. The friends he’d neglected, the promises he’d broken, and, above all, the way he had carelessly stomped on the one person who had also been innocent in this situation–you. 

“So how do I fix it? I—I don’t want to die. Please,” he choked, his voice barely above a whisper as he looked up at the man with pleading eyes. 

Wooyoung’s gaze didn’t soften, but there was a pause—a brief, quiet stillness that felt like a moment of reckoning. He tilted his head, studying Mingi as if weighing the depths of his fear, his regret, his desperation.

"Is that it, then? Now that you’re here, now that death is staring you in the face, now you want redemption? Not when you had the power to make different choices, not when the people who cared about you needed you to be better?”

Mingi swallowed hard, feeling the weight of each accusation sink into him. He could barely meet the man’s gaze, shame twisting in his stomach. 

“I made mistakes. I didn’t think…I thought I’d always have time to change, to make things right. But I can’t…I can’t end like this.” His voice broke, and he felt the desperation bubbling up, raw and unfiltered. 

“I’m begging you. Give me a chance. I’ll do anything.”

Wooyoung watched him in silence for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he took a step closer, his dark robes fluttering against the ground.

“Anything?”

“Anything,” Mingi whispered. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

Wooyoung’s lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. “If you want to escape this fate, then you’ll have to complete three tasks within three months.”

Mingi’s heart pounded in his chest, but he nodded, his eyes shining with desperate determination. 

“I’ll do it. Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”

“Good.” 

With a single snap, Mingi felt his body contort, an overwhelming, suffocating pressure enveloping him. His form began to shrink and his vision blurred. A high-pitched yelp escaped his throat as he realized he was no longer human. 

He was small, helpless, wrapped in fur with tiny paws trembling beneath him. He had been transformed into a puppy, looking up at the man from the ground, his new form shivering in fear and confusion.

“You’re much cuter when you’re not hurling insults at people and lying through your teeth,” Wooyoung cooed, reaching out to poke Mingi’s snout. 

Indignation boiled in Mingi’s tiny chest, but he was powerless to do anything but stand there, his fur puffed out as he tried to look fierce while Wooyoung continued to pet him.

“First,” Wooyoung began, “you’re going to learn what it means to be vulnerable. Focus on letting go of control completely, and start with small acts. ” 

“For your second task,” he continued, “you’re going to help someone who’s hurt or lost. You have to figure out how to comfort them. You’ll need to offer genuine support, not just do what’s easiest for you.”

Mingi whimpered, his tiny body shivering, but Wooyoung didn’t give him a chance to protest.

“And finally,” Wooyoung said, a smirk tugging at his lips, “you’ll help someone find happiness. You’re going to show them kindness and bring them joy, with no expectation of getting anything in return. For someone as self-centered as you, that’ll be your most difficult challenge of all.”

With that, Wooyoung straightened, a mischievous glint in his eye. 

“Simple enough for you, little guy?” he chuckled, scratching behind Mingi’s soft, floppy ear. 

“Complete these tasks, and you can have your life back. It’s not so hard, right?”

Mingi looked up, wide-eyed and uncertain in his new, pint-sized form. The world felt so large and overwhelming now, every shadow looming like a mountain, every distant sound magnified. His tiny paws shuffled nervously, a soft whimper escaping him.

“But, hey, if you can’t handle it and end up staying here, at least you’ll be the cutest little thing in the afterlife. You’re so small, I could just carry you around in my pocket!”

Mingi huffed, his tail puffing up in what he hoped was indignation. The thought was absurd! He couldn't decide whether to feel insulted or embarrassed, but Wooyoung’s warm smile and the affectionate scritch behind his ear made it hard to stay mad.

⋆

You sighed and sat down on a bench, the quiet stillness of the early morning hours settling around you. Mingi’s mother hadn’t let you leave, insisting that you stay for any updates on his condition. It was easier to wait outside, where the air felt fresher and the weight of worry wasn’t as suffocating.

Two years. Had it really been two years? You leaned back against the bench, staring up at the faint dawn light peeking through the trees. You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. Mingi’s bitterness had been a slow, creeping poison. He blamed you for the engagement, even though it was hardly your choice, and his resentment seeped into every corner of your life.

Every conversation was strained, every look filled with contempt, and yet here you were, waiting outside a hospital, a dutiful spouse in name alone. 

The weight of your commitment felt heavier now that he was teetering on the edge of life and death. The responsibilities and promises you had made to each other took on a new, almost suffocating significance. It wasn't just about keeping up appearances anymore—it was about being there, truly being there, when it mattered most.

You sighed, the sound mingling with the faint rustling from the bushes nearby, pulling you momentarily from your reverie.

From the corner of your eye, a small white puppy emerged, its fur dirty and matted with leaves. The tiny creature padded forward, nose twitching as it sniffed the air and hesitated as it spotted you. Something about its curiosity struck a chord in you, melting the heaviness in your chest just a little.

“Puppy!” you gasped, crouching down and holding out your hand. 

Mingi’s ears perked up at your voice, and he took a tentative step forward. 

You appeared more exhausted than usual, the shadows under your eyes more pronounced, and a weariness etched into your features that he hadn't noticed previously. There was a fragility about you that tugged at something deep within him, a vulnerability you rarely allowed to show.

But the way you whispered, with that soft, delighted tone and the way your face lit up when you saw him—it was unlike anything he’d ever seen before.

Without thinking, his little tail started wagging, betraying him completely. He could feel his new puppy body responding instinctively, unable to stop the joyful swishing, even though part of him knew how ridiculous he must look.

“Why are you by yourself?” you asked, wiggling your fingers in front of him. 

Mingi watched, trying to resist the urge to play, but then—damn it—he couldn’t help himself. Before he knew it, he’d pounced forward, his tiny paws reaching for your hand, teeth closing softly around your fingers in a playful nibble.

No, stop it, Mingi! He cursed, attempting to restrain himself from giving into his instincts. But he couldn’t. The look on your face, the warmth in your eyes, was worth the humiliation of his tiny, floppy form and the impulse to play like he actually enjoyed it.

He flopped onto his back, revealing his soft, fluffy belly, earning an immediate squeal of joy. The sight of his tiny paws tucked adorably close to his chest and his big puppy eyes was simply too much.

The sheer cuteness of the puppy version of him was undeniable, and you couldn’t help but scratch his belly. His hind leg kicked instinctively, a sign of his enjoyment.

Mingi let out a soft, high-pitched whimper, as you scooped him into your arms. This is…nice? And when your hand ran gently down his back, he melted further, his tiny body going limp as he nuzzled into your chest. His heart thrummed with a fluttering feeling he didn’t recognize. 

Why does this actually feel good? 

You didn’t have that look of quiet disappointment that had seemed to settle on your face since the day you both said, “I do.”

You just looked…happy.

For the first time, Mingi realized how little he’d truly known you. It hurt to realize that a tiny puppy—his current form—could make you feel more affection than he ever had when he was human. He hadn’t given you any reason to smile at him like this; he hadn’t even tried.

“I guess the universe is exchanging my husband for you, huh?” you mumbled, stroking his tiny head with your thumb.

Mingi bristled internally. How rude! He was irreplaceable. You couldn’t simply replace him with a puppy!

You stood up, carefully bundling him against your chest to shield him from the chill of dawn. 

He wondered if he would ever feel this again once he returned to his original self, or if he would only carry the ache of what he could have had—if he’d been a different person, if he’d ever let you in.

ii >>

a/n: I have a taglist signup to keep things organized! feel free to fill it out for any fics that I'm currently working on! also this first chapter will be the longest and future chapters will be shorter

[paymechildsupport]

hiii, how would you feel about a gojo x mreader sports au but they both play on the same team. Like hc’s about reader and gojo who are both on the same basketball team. I always see fics where just he’s on the team but I thought it would be interesting to see one where they both are. thanks!

Now hold on a second….

Gojo x M!Reader on the same basketball team // Hc’s

-!! SFW + NSFW hc’s,— you’re both in college

———☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

✮ Teammate!Satoru, whom you’ve always had the most insane chemistry with. Regardless of on the court or off, everybody knows you two have SOMETHING going on —

Some of the plays you pull off shouldn’t even be possible. You’re like a two man army. The two mvp’s of every team, an unstoppable force.

Varsity ever since freshman year of high school, and now you’re both in college and doing the sport you love most of all

You’re each other’s rocks, always there for one another. When he scores the winning basket you’re the first person he hugs,— full on SPRINTS across the court to get that one high-five from his best mate

You’re pretty much a package deal at this point. Back in high school it was clear to any team recruiter that you both came together- if they wanted one of you, they’d have to take both (which, who wouldn’t want to, honestly?)

✮ Teammate!Satoru, who absolutely adored all the attention. The man was born to be in the spotlight, and reveled in the publicity you both dug up.

You’d be in the middle of practice on a water break, and you best believe Satoru has the latest viral clip of you two playing on his phone, giggling to himself. He’s saved every single edit of your plays, has an entire folder dedicated to them. He’s always super ecstatic to show you them too,

“Ohhh!! Look how cool I was in that one— oh, and there you are- OH DID YOU SEE THAT PLAY?!”

It’s not just edits of your plays though…. He has another folder, which he has dedicated to ship edits of you two. His guilty pleasure would be staying up and mindlessly scrolling through the countless ship videos fans have made of you two. Artwork, from theories, to slowmo clips of you two staring almost lovingly into eachothers’ eyes…. All for shits and giggles though! You two are just super tight homies, that’s all! Right…?

He’d play it off too, make a bunch of jokes like,

“Ha ha, fans really think we’re dating… how crazy is that? I mean, it’s not like we like each other or anything, right? Like, it’d be really funny if we kissed on the court after we win the next game, rather than just hug. It could just be like a little peck on the cheek..— as a publicity stunt, of course! It’d totally go viral— as a publicity stunt.”

(The answer was a big fat no from the media manager, much to Satoru’s disappointment)

And yes, he’s VERY aware of the surplus of fan fiction about you two, he’s probably written half of it

“hey, ever heard of omegaverse-?”

Shit, at this point he might as well have his own ship account of you two

✮ Teammate!Satoru, who is the mortal enemy of your team’s media team, who beg him , above all else, to just watch the shit he posts online. They just don’t want a huge controversy, and the team’s two star players dating eachother?! That’s just a scandal waiting to happen. The news and magazines would go absolutely feral

But, of course, true to classic Satoru style, he just doesn’t listen

His entire Instagram account is just photos of you. Has a heart around your handle in his bio (labeled, ‘my pookie <3’ ,— mf even got down on his knees and begged you to match pfp’s with him

One of his many viral photos is of you in his pinnie, reading in bed (why you were in the same bed, nobody knows)

Another has you two on a vacation in Hawaii, sunbathing with nothing but your boxers, and beach chairs a little too close

Satoru posts all of them with jokes about ‘it ain’t gay with the homies ❤️’ and ‘catching yourself being a lil’ too fruity with bro 😂’ — but it’s gotten so excessive to the point where literally nobody knows if it’s a joke anymore or not (sure as hell don’t look like it…)

He crossed a bit of a line when he posted a picture of him getting a tattoo, of your jersey number. Yeah, the manager chewed him up good for that one.

———☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

✮ Teammate!Satoru, who’ll wait a good extra forty-five minutes for everyone else on the team to pack up and leave, just so he can fuck you in the shower room

He’s just so goddamn desperate, he’s turning all the showers on, and it still isn’t enough to mask the lewd noises you two make. Breathy moans, skin slapping,— it’s so hot in there, and Satoru knows it’s not from the steaming water coming from above.

After everybody from the team left, Satoru all but ripped his uniform off. Resorting to using the fucking 3-in-1 shampoo all the other guys use as lube, he’s quick to push himself inside of you.

He tore up the court last game, and for his reward he now gets to tear up you.

“Atta’ boy… hah.. fuck- .. fuck— ah.. did you see my winning shot today..? Ah.. hah.. it was so good, wasn’t it..-?”

He loves it when you wear his jersey while he does it too. He loves it even more if you let him wear yours.

—————————-—☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★——————————

[oldsoul007]

Second Chances

nicholas chavez x reader

summary: nicholas and reader were high school sweethearts and haven’t seen each other in years but what happens when you see him on tv

I was flipping through channels one evening when I suddenly froze. There, on the screen, was Nicholas, my high school sweetheart, starring in a popular TV show. I couldn't believe my eyes. It had been years since we’d seen each other, and here he was, looking as charming as ever.

I felt a rush of emotions—nostalgia, excitement, and a bit of sadness. Memories of our time together in high school came flooding back: late-night talks, prom night, and the way he used to make me laugh. Seeing him on TV was surreal, like a piece of my past had come back to life.

I couldn't help but smile as I watched him. I felt proud of him for making it big, but also a bit wistful, wondering what might have been if our paths hadn't diverged.

I walked into the cozy coffee shop, the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. I had just seen Nicholas on TV the night before, starring in a popular show. Memories of our high school days together came flooding back. We were inseparable back then, high school sweethearts who thought we’d be together forever.

As I waited for my order, I glanced around the room and nearly dropped my phone when I saw him. Nicholas was sitting at a table near the window, engrossed in a book. My heart raced, and i felt a mix of excitement and nerves.

Taking a deep breath, I decided to pretend I didn’t see him. What would I even say. I doubt he’d remember me. I wouldn’t want him to think I only went up because of his new fame.

As I waited even longer for my drink filled with anxiety, I see someone walk up to me in my peripheral vision. "Y/n? Wow, it's been so long!" He stood up, giving me a warm smile.

“Oh my god! Nick” I acted surprised. He pulled me in for a hug feeling the familiar embrace. As he leaned out of the hug he said. “I swear it was you but I wasn’t sure and just decided to see, wow you look great.” I laugh as he spoke.

“What are you doing in LA?” He asked. “Oh well I got an internship on this new movie but I’ve been here for a while. How about you?” I asked.

“Oh well, I’ve been pursuing acting a little bit more so it’s easier to just be here.”

We spent the next hour catching up, talking about our lives since high school. I couldn't help but feel a spark of the old connection we once had. It was as if no time had passed at all.

“Ok well I have to get back to set, but I’d love to see you again. Here give me your number.” He said handing me his phone. I typed it in and said our goodbyes.

Nicholas and I met up at a cozy bar one evening, the atmosphere buzzing with low chatter and the clink of glasses. We ordered a couple of drinks and settled into a corner booth, catching up on life. We laughed about old times, shared our current ambitions, and reminisced about the paths we had taken.

"Do you remember that time we got caught sneaking out to go stargazing and stole a pack of cigarettes from my dad?" I asked, a playful smile on my face.

Nicholas chuckled, "How could I forget? We thought we were so slick, but my mom was waiting for us at the door when we got back."

We both laughed, the memory bringing back a wave of nostalgia. After a moment, Nicholas's expression turned more serious. "You know, I always wondered what would have happened if things had been different."

I nodded, my eyes reflecting the same curiosity. "Me too. I guess life just took us in different directions. But seeing you again... it feels like no time has passed."

Nicholas smiled warmly. "It's funny how some things never change. It's really nice to catch up like this."

I agreed, feeling the familiar warmth and connection. "Yeah, it really is. I'm glad we decided to do this."

As the evening wore on, the familiar song Tennessee Whiskey, began to play. Nicholas's eyes lit up, and he turned to me with a grin. "Hey, remember this song? They played it at our prom."

My face softened with nostalgia. "How could I forget? That was such a magical night, even if we were only at the dance for five minutes."

Nicholas stood up and extended his hand to me. "Dance with me?"

I hesitated for a moment, then placed my hand in his. We moved to the small dance floor, swaying gently to the music. The memories of our prom night flooded back, and for a moment, it felt like we were back in high school, wrapped in the same youthful excitement and unspoken feelings.

As we danced, the world around us seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us and the music. The connection we shared was undeniable, but for now, we simply enjoyed the moment, letting the past and present blend together seamlessly.

As Nicholas and y/n swayed to the music, lost in their own world, they didn't notice the flash of a camera from the bar's entrance. A paparazzi had managed to catch the intimate moment, snapping a photo that would soon make headlines.

Flashback

Nicholas and I have been dating for a while now, our relationship filled with thrilling moments and stolen glances. One night, Nicholas decided to surprise me. He climbed up the tree outside my bedroom window, carefully making his way to the ledge.

When I was finishing some homework, I suddenly started hearing a soft tap on my window, I opened it with a grin. "Nick, what are you doing here?"

He smirked, slipping inside quietly. "I couldn't wait until tomorrow to see you."

We spent hours talking and laughing in whispers, savoring the forbidden thrill of our secret rendezvous. When it was time for Nicholas to leave, he gave me a quick kiss and climbed back out the window, making sure not to get caught.

As he disappeared into the night, I watched him go, my heart racing with excitement and a sense of adventure. Those nights were some of our most cherished memories, filled with the excitement of young love and the thrill of sneaking around.

The next morning, the tabloids were buzzing with the news. "Does Nicholas Chavez Have a Girlfriend?" the headline blared, accompanied by a photo of them dancing closely, their faces lit with warmth and nostalgia.

Nicholas saw the headline and sighed, knowing it would stir up questions and speculation. He called y/n to give her a heads-up. "Hey, did you see the news?"

She laughed softly. "Yeah, I saw it. Guess we made quite the impression last night."

We both knew that the photo would lead to a lot of attention, but for now, we decided to take it in stride. After all, the night had been special, and no headline could take that away from us.

I looked at the headline again and then turned to Nicholas, my expression thoughtful. "Do you ever wish you could have more privacy? I mean, do you really like this newfound fame?"

Nicholas paused, considering my question. "Honestly, it's a double-edged sword. I love what I do and the opportunities it brings, but sometimes I miss the simplicity of just being able to hang out without worrying about cameras and headlines."

I nodded, understanding his perspective. "I can imagine it must be tough. But for what it's worth, I think you're handling it really well."

Nicholas smiled, appreciating her support. "Thanks, y/n. It helps having someone who gets it and is there to share these moments with."

Nicholas and Y/n started hanging out more, finding comfort in each other's company. They'd grab coffee, go for walks, and talk about everything from their favorite movies to their dreams for the future. It felt so natural, like slipping back into an old routine.

But underneath the laughter and easy conversation, there were feelings that neither of them dared to mention. Every time their hands brushed or their eyes met for a little too long, it was like a spark of something familiar and unspoken.

They both felt it, that lingering connection from the past, but neither wanted to risk the friendship they were rebuilding. So, they kept those feelings tucked away, enjoying the moments they had together and wondering if the other felt the same.

After one night drew to a close, Nicholas and I found ourselves standing alone on the porch, the cool night air wrapping around us. The stars twinkled above, casting a gentle glow over our faces.

Nicholas took a step closer, his heart pounding in his chest. "Y/n, I've missed you more than I can say. Seeing you again has made me realize just how much."

I felt a rush of emotions flood through me. "Nick, I've missed you too. I never stopped thinking about you."

Without another word, Nicholas gently cupped my face in his hands, his eyes searching mine for any sign of hesitation. Seeing none, he leaned in, and our lips met in a passionate kiss. It was a kiss filled with years of longing and unspoken feelings, a kiss that bridged the gap between their past and their future.

As we pulled away, breathless and smiling, we knew that this was the start of something new, yet so beautifully familiar. We had finally found our way back to each other. A second chance.

[secretamongthestars]

Third Times the Charm [ ii ]

You and Spencer run into each other at a bar.

WARNINGS: show typical violence (I don't think there's anything in this chapter though)

Spencer Reid x Teacher!Reader | meet-cute | 2.9k

A/N: hi guys!! i just wanted to say thank you guys so much for all the support that Third Times the Charm [i] got !!! i wasn't expecting that at all and just wanted to say thank you!! also, apologies for how long part ii took to come out, midterms were kicking my butt!! plus election stress. anyways! i hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

masterlist

“Reid, what’s up with you?” Morgan asked. As the youngest member of their team walked in, he noticed a pep in his step and he didn’t immediately go for another cup of the obscene office coffee.

“What? What do you mean? Nothing’s up.” Spencer word vomited, quickly realizing if his behavior didn’t give himself away, then that certainly did.

“Okay, no. Sit down. Something is up and you’re gonna tell me,” Morgan told him, sitting on the edge of a nearby desk. Spencer was silent for a few seconds, debating if he really wanted to tell Morgan. However, as he thought about what happened in the past when he kept secrets with the team, he thought it couldn’t hurt to tell Morgan. After all, it’s not like the rest of the team was there yet. A few lower-level agents were going in and out of the bullpen, but save for the two of them, Morgan and Spencer were the only two team members present.

“Fine,” Spencer huffed out, watching as a grin overtook Morgan’s features. Knowing Morgan, he quickly told him, “But you can’t tell the rest of the team okay? Not yet at least.”

Morgan looked a little disappointed at that, but conceded to Spencer’s terms, “Fine. But if they find out on their own, that’s not my fault. Remember who you work with.”

Spencer began to tell him about the irresistible teacher he met, along with the events that conspired the previous Monday and earlier that morning. As he spoke, he became more animated, beginning to talk at a speed that was almost too fast for Morgan to understand.

“And then, I thought she was going to just leave, you know? I mean she said she had to leave, so I thought she was just going to head out, but Morgan, she asked if she could give me her phone number. Isn’t that crazy? And then she just left?!” Spencer rambled, finally getting to the climax of this story.

“Pretty. Boy. Reid,” Morgan said as he clapped him on the back. “Who knew you had it in you. Good for you.”

Spencer sat at his desk, blushing. He knew it was soon, but he was hoping it would go well. From high school throughout his life, he never had a good history when it came to the dating scene, never mind his love life. But you seemed kind and funny, and he admired your job, understanding just how unruly and unpredictable high schoolers could be. Before he could daydream any longer, Morgan snapped him out of it.

“So, when are you seeing her next?” he questioned. Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, confusedly.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she gave you her number, have you texted her?” Morgan questioned. “Are you gonna ask her out?”

Spencer looked taken aback like Morgan had asked him to shoot the president.

“That’s a bit fast-paced, right? I don’t want to seem overbearing to her,” Spencer confessed.

“Reid, she seems great. And if she gave you her number, she’s definitely into you,” Morgan advised him. “Go for it, okay?”

As he got up, and headed back to his desk, the rest of the team trickled into the bullpen. Noticing the odd atmosphere, one which they couldn’t quite place based on the neutral expression on Morgan’s face and the confused, bordering on frightened, one on Spencer’s they weren’t sure what had just conspired.

“What was that about?” Emily questioned Morgan.

“Just talking about Reid’s coffee,” Morgan quickly came up with an excuse. “Did you know he puts five sugar packets in there? And that’s on the low end.”

Emily didn’t believe him but decided to let it rest for now.

Hearing the discussion, Garcia added, “You know, I put him on that cafe, the one where he got that coffee. Their coffee is like if a kitten and a unicorn got meshed together, crashed into a rainbow, and vomited on a sprinkle cupcake.”

The team looked at her in utter confusion.

“It’s good,” she translated. “It’s so good. Too good to be putting Reid’s obscene amount of sugar in it.”

Hearing his name, Spencer was about to interject to defend himself, though JJ cut him off before he got the chance.

“Guys, Hotch wants us in the meeting room in 5. We got a case.”

౨ৎ

The school day had ended and all of your students were gone for the day: no extra help, no club meetings, and certainly no meetings with your supervisor. You only had a few student’s assignments left to grade; figuring that it would take less than thirty minutes, you decided to leave it for after you got home and had something to eat.

However, as you were on your way out, two of your coworkers stopped in: Andy, a fellow English teacher, and Brian, a history teacher. Brian had worked at the school for a few years at this point, but Andy only started one or two years ago. Anytime you had questions about the new school or needed to confide in someone the two of them had your back.

“Heading out for the day?” the latter had asked.

“Yeah, I only have a few assignments left, figured they can wait til I get home,” you joked with them.

“Hey, by any chance do you have my copy of Cat’s Cradle? We’re reading it in about a week,” Andy questioned.

“Yeah, hangon a second, let me find it,” you told her, shuffling through your bag in attempts to find it.

“Did you lose your copy?” she asked you.

“Something like that,” you replied vaguely.

“What, did you lend it to a kid and they forgot it at home?” Brian chimed in. “I’m surprised, you usually don’t lend that out, given your annotations, notes, and everything.”

Your face reddened, thinking about what actually happened to your copy of the book.

“Okay. Yeah, tell us right now what’s up with you, because you did not lend that to anyone,” Andy had already figured you out. “I could barely get you to let me borrow your copy of Chronicle of a Death Foretold for a day.”

“Ugh, fine,” you sighed, setting your stuff down, giving up on getting home early.

Sitting on a desk, you confessed to them what had happened the past few days. From the literal run-in to the book exchange to how he was literally gorgeous.

“So, what do you know about him?” Brian asked, snapping you out of your trance.

“What do you mean?” you asked, confused.

“I mean, you know his name is Spencer, but what else?”

That was a valid question that you hadn’t thought of.

“Do you at least know what he does for work?”

“Okay! I get it, I didn’t think of asking that in the moment though. Too late now,” you huffed at them. To be fair, they did have a point. Besides his name being Spencer, you knew nothing else about him. “All I know is that he was reading the Illustrated Man and that he wears sweater vests, alright!”

“Well, did you at least get a last name? Maybe we can look him up online,” Brian proposed.

“No! That’s gotta be an invasion of privacy or something!”

“C’mon, just one search can’t do any harm,” Andy added.

“Fine! But you better not accidentally like a post or something,” you yielded. Seeing as they didn’t even have a last name or any other information to go with, you figured their searching wouldn’t lead to anything, and therefore no harm would come of it.

As they relentlessly searched through instagram for what had to be at least 10 minutes, Andy finally spoke up: “Yeah, I can’t find any guy named Spencer who fits your description.”

“Me neither. I mean, what if he’s like a serial killer or something?” Brian questioned.

“Guys! He’s not a serial killer. Your internet sleuthing was probably just bad. You didn’t even have his last name,” you told them.

“Fine, but if he does turn out to be one…” Andy left out the ‘I told you so’, but you weren’t worried. There was no way that he would even be involved in anything related to that, right?

“Anyways, next week is the beginning of fall break. You guys wanna get drinks or something? Maybe Friday?” Brian proposed.

“Yeah, why not,” Andy agreed while you nodded along. After the first month or so of your new job, you figured a fun night out was deserved.

౨ৎ

In your defense, you did try to have an active break from school, but it seemed that the stress of your new job had finally gotten to you. There was only so much cleaning, morning coffee shop runs, and reading you could do. You didn’t even have any assignments left to grade or to plan.

Friday couldn’t come fast enough.

As you got ready for the night, you decided on a casual outfit, though certainly something different from what you typically wore to work or during a casual day at home.

You were running late as you had opted to put on a bit more makeup than you typically did (not the usual concealer and lip gloss duo). Andy offered to wait outside for you, but after your insistence, she came inside.

“So has he texted at all since you saw him last?” she questioned as you were rushing to put the last of your jewelry on.

“Um,” you opted to ignore her question, busying yourself with the clasp of a bracelet.

“Really? C’mon, with the way you talked about this guy, you would think he’s some kind of prince charming,” she said, shocked. “I know I joked about him being a serial killer, but this doesn’t raise any red flags to you?”

It wasn’t that she didn’t have a valid point, it was just that Spencer seemed so sweet and genuine. You refused to believe that he was like any of the other men you had interacted with in your love-life.

“Maybe he’s busy with work or something. Last time we ran into each other he said he travels for work,” you defended him.

“Yeah, but c’mon. It’s about a week? Isn’t that suspicious? Unless he’s batman or something he has some explaining to do,” Andy stated as the two of you left your apartment, heading out to meet up with Brian.

౨ৎ

The team had gotten back from a particularly tiring case the night before, deciding to get drinks together after some sleep. It wasn’t that the case was incredibly difficult or uncharacteristically violent and strange, unlike some of their previous cases. It just so happened that the unsub was striking at such quick intervals that they had barely any time to rest. Needless to say, drinks were needed.

As the team joked around the table, the jovial mood bringing laughter and smiles to all of their faces, a group of people walked into the bar. They were standing by the counter, joking amongst each other, when one of them looked away from the group.

No one paid any particular attention to three of them, until Spencer saw the face of who exactly just walked in.

“Guys does anybody need another drink?” Spencer quickly asked. While, sure, most of the drinks at the table were near-finished, it was a bit premature to get another round. However, after the past few days the team had, no one was complaining.

The team shouted out different drinks for Spencer to order, all of which went to the back of his mind, as he was focused on you.

Immediately after ordering the team’s drinks, he turned to you, who had also seemingly been the one to volunteer to order your friends’ next round.

“Hey,” his voice sounded quiet as the speakers blared music overhead.

“Oh my gosh! Hi!” you excitedly greeted him. “How’ve you been?”

“I- I’ve been okay,” he told you, not wanting to reveal that side of his life to you just yet, nevermind in a bar. “Sorry I didn’t reach out to you. It’s been a crazy week with work.”

“No yeah, I understand,” you told him. “However, my friend over there does think you may be a serial killer.”

This took Spencer off-guard.

“What?”

“Yeah, I may have told them about our little run-in, after work the other day, and they tried to find you online, sorry,” You told him. You weren’t drunk yet, but you didn’t seem to care about letting go of your filter. “They were surprised they couldn’t find you on instagram. That’s when they suggested your potential for crime.”

“Oh,” Spencer was confused, then let out a small laugh. “Well considering I don’t even have a personal email, that may be why they couldn’t find an account.”

“Really?” now it was your turn to be perplexed.

“Yeah, besides my work email, I don’t really have an online presence,” Spencer admitted. You were still a little confused so he blurted out, “Did you know that 80% of stalking victims are tracked using technology? I mean, typically people are stalked by people they know, but still.”

“I did not know that,” was all you could really say in response. Spencer awkwardly nodded, leaving the two of you in a strange, awkward silence.

“Did you at least go anywhere interesting for work?” you asked him, attempting to get rid of the sudden awkwardness.

“We went to Seattle, but unfortunately didn’t have much time to do anything.”

“Really? They overwork you that much?” You were surprised; you finally found someone with a job that nearly equal to yours in that regard. “What do you even do for work?”

Right before Spencer could think of a response, the bartender brought out your drinks.

“Hey, before you go back to your friends– I’m sorry for not reaching out to you,” Spencer apologized again.

“It’s okay, I get it. Work can be crazy sometimes,” you told him. Before leaving to bring your drinks over to your friends, you blurted out, “to make up for it though, you should definitely call me.”

He only blinked back in response.

“Only if you want to, I mean. I’m not gonna force you or anything-”

“No, yeah I’ll make sure to call you,” Spencer smiled at you. Regardless of what case got thrown his way, he would make sure that this time would. “Promise, okay?”

“Alright, you better keep it then, Spencer,” you told him as you finally made your way back to your friends.

“Who was that?” Brian immediately questioned as soon as you got back to the small table.

“Someone to make you forget about this Spencer? Who I still think is a serial killer,” Andy muttered that last part much more quietly, but Brian and you still heard it.

“He is not a serial killer. And coincidentally, that was him,” you informed her.

“You’re joking.”

“No, why would I be lying?”

“You were not lying about that man being gorgeous,” Andy told you, now staring at the man and his table.

“Stop staring!” you whacked her in the arm, hoping to get her to stop before his friends noticed.

“What? I’m just saying you were not kidding.” You rolled your eyes.

“Did he finally tell you why he didn’t call?” Brian finally asked.

“Yeah, he said it was work,” you told the two. You could immediately tell by the look on Andy’s face that she didn’t believe you. “He said he was in Seattle!”

“Alright…. But just because he’s pretty doesn’t mean he can’t be hiding something,” Andy retorted back. You just put your head in your hands. You would not be hearing the end of this anytime soon.

౨ৎ

“Reid, who was that,” Penelope immediately questioned him, before he even put the drinks down on the table. He rushed to find a reasonable lie but even he didn’t believe it.

“I don’t know, just some girl. I’ve never seen her before,” Spencer told the group defensively. None of them believed him. “I’m serious! I’ve never met her!”

“Reid, no offense, but that’s the first time we’ve seen you talk to a girl and she didn’t immediately leave the conversation,” Emily tried to tell him gently but it didn’t work at all. Spencer was slightly discouraged, though Penelope and Morgan certainly thought it was funny.

“Okay well, I definitely don’t know her so I don’t know what to tell you.” Spencer just wanted the attention off of him.. Even if he knew the team’s jokes were just that, he still wanted to keep this one thing for himself.

Finally, the team had become distracted with the new round of drinks set down on the table, taking the topic of conversation to something completely unrelated. Except for Morgan, that is.

Spencer and him made eye contact, and he knew that Morgan knew for sure that the girl from the bar wasn’t ‘just some girl’, but most definitely the girl Spencer had told him about a few days ago.

Spencer asked him not to say anything with his expression, and either Morgan understood or didn’t care enough to press on the issue.

One thing was for sure. Spencer would call her. Nothing would get in his way this time: not paperwork, not a meeting with Strauss– not even an unsub would get in the way this time.

[bad268]

hi can u do a paul aron x reader fic where she is like max fewtrell sister and like for a video on yt there react to the readers tiktoks where she has been slowly soft lauching her relationship with paul i hoped that makes sense can lando also be there reacting to the tts too she then later confrims she dating paul

smau/irl

TikTok Secrets (Paul Aron X Fewtrell! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (I love this so much, side note, I'm open to writing for Max Fewtrell now)

Warnings: sexual inuendos ig

POV: Second Person (You/your/They/them)

W.C. 1427

Summary: A quadrant video unearths a secret crush (at least, to Max it was a secret)

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Max thought this was an interesting idea. He knew you were always on TikTok, and as a member of Gen-Z, you were bound to have some questionable videos in your likes. He had mentioned the idea briefly to Lando, but then Lando agreed it would be funny to go through your liked TikTok videos for a Quadrant video. 

You showed up in the studio clueless since he didn’t tell you what the video was before this. You just handed your phone to Lando because that’s what you always did. Lando or someone behind the camera would take everyone’s phones out of the room, so there would be no interruptions. It was something that didn’t make you bat an eye.

“Hello everyone, and welcome back to another Quadrant video,” Max started off. “We have my sibling here, and today, we will be going through their TikTok liked videos.”

“Wait, Max, no,” You tried to protest as Lando handed the phone to Max. It was times like this when you regretted not having a stronger password on your phone. “I never agreed to this!”

“It’s not like you have anything to hide, eh?” Max teased as he opened your TikTok immediately and went to your liked videos. Thankfully, nothing super questionable played out when the app first loaded up. “See? This is normal Gen-Z humor stuff.”

You had been on a brain rot cycle that morning, so most of your recent liked videos were super random. The recording went on with casual and chaotic banter between you and Max, with Lando chiming in from time to time again from behind the camera. All was well until Max reached the section of videos you didn’t want him to see. The edits.

“Woah, does my sibling have a crush on a certain F2 driver?” Max teased as he watched the seemingly never-ending Paul Aron edits in your liked videos. “I thought this was a joke, but this is a little excessive, don’t you think?”

“Max, cut it out, please,” You pleaded as you tried to grab your phone. “I’m begging, cut this out.”

“Tell me, and I’ll cut it out of the video,” Max replied as he set your phone down but kept it out of your reach. 

“Cut the cameras now, and I’ll spill,” You countered, and Max nodded, gesturing to Lando to stop the recording. “Maybe I have a crush.”

“My little sibling has their first crush!” Max gushed as he squished your face between his hands. “You’re all grown up now! Stop it.”

“I can’t really just stop,” You chuckled, pushing his hands away from you. “I’m almost 20 now, Max. I’m more than grown up.”

“You’ll always be my little sibling, and that’s final,” Max joked. “So, do you need me to set you up with Paul?”

“You don’t even know Paul,” You chuckled in disbelief. This was not how you thought he was going to react, but you’re not complaining yet. 

“I’m more in the motorsport world than you are,” Max pointed out, “And by association, I’m closer to him than you. Let me set you two up.”

“Fine, if you want,” You relented, rolling your eyes. “Can we wrap this video up now? I’d like to go back onto my brain rot streak.”

“You Gen-Zers,” Max muttered, shaking his head.

“You are Gen-Z too, technically,” You teased, using this time to snatch your phone. “Now, let’s end this video.”

“Fine,” Max groaned before gesturing to Lando to resume filming, “Well, that does it for this video. We’ll see you next time!”

~

~

“Y/n, explain now,” Max pressed as soon as you answered his call. You were lying in bed with Paul at the hotel since it was the start of the race weekend, and his call woke you both up. If he was going to start your day like this, you weren’t going to be nice about it.

“What ever happened to “hello”, “good morning”, “how are you”, “what are you doing”, or y’know, any conversation starter?” You dragged out as you put the phone on speaker and laid your head back against Paul’s chest.

“Hello, good morning, how are you? What are you doing? When were you gonna tell me you were already dating Paul?” Max rushed, getting progressively louder as his sentence went on.

“Hello to you too. I’m doing well other than you woke us up at the ass-crack of dawn-”

“What do you mean “us”? Is he with you right now?” Max cut you off.

“Yes, now, if I can continue,” You cut back in with a sharp tone, “We were asleep, and you woke us up at the ass-crack of dawn. Do time zones mean nothing to you?”

“How was I supposed to know you were with him?” Max defended, almost completely forgetting his original point of the call.

“I told you I was going out of England for work,” You explained. “I said I was going to Qatar for work. I literally texted this to you yesterday.”

“You work with Paul? Since when?” Max questioned.

“Since I realized I can work remotely. Graphic design can be done from anywhere. I just decided this week it’s being done in Qatar,” You justified, looking up at Paul, who was trying his hardest not to laugh. “Was there a point to this, or can we go back to sleep? We had a long night.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what you did last night!” Max screamed into the phone, and both of you started laughing out loud. “Don’t laugh at this! I don’t wanna know what my youngest sibling does with the boyfriend I didn’t know they had! You’re just a baby!”

“One, I’m not a baby. Two, our flight got delayed, and we didn’t get to our hotel until about 2 this morning. We’re too tired to do anything but sleep, Max,” You deadpanned once you calmed your laughs. 

“I at least would’ve expected you to tell me before you posted it,”  Max complained.

“Would you like to know how long before we announce that?” Paul chipped in.

“I don’t wanna hear anything from you,” Max snapped before completely changing his tone, “Y/n, how long have you been with Paul?”

“About 9 months,” You chuckled at his quick switch. “We wanted to make sure we were strong before letting everyone in, and you were included in that. Sorry, bro.”

“Do not “sorry, bro” me like that’s gonna fix this,” Max complained, knowing you always pulled this whenever you wanted to sweep something under the rug. “It’s not gonna work on me.”

“Sorry, bro,” You said again with a smirk, “I’ll call Mum and tell her how much you hate me. I’m sorry, bro. I didn’t mean to make you feel left out.”

“No, I was just a little hurt. It’s fine,” Max comforted, feeling bad that he made you feel upset. Despite his original anger towards the situation, he hated making you feel bad. Call it a big brother thing, but he feels bad whenever he’s the reason behind your pain.

“So you’re not mad at me?” You pouted even though he couldn’t see you, but Paul could. He knew you were using your younger sibling power to get your way.

“No, I can’t be mad at you,” Max comforted, “I can understand where you two are coming from, so I’m not upset about it.”

“Good, we’re going back to sleep now then,” Your tone switched back to its usual peppy style, “I’ll call you later this weekend or something. And don’t worry, we’ll be safe, promise.”

You didn’t give him the chance to say anything as you ended the call and put your phone on Do Not Disturb. You moved it back to the bedside table as you got comfortable in Paul’s arms again.

“You know you gave him a heart attack, right?” Paul chuckled lightly as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you to be practically on top of him.

“That’s my job as the younger sibling,” You replied sleepily as you got your head comfortable against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “You do the same thing to Ralf, so don’t even start.”

Almost on cue, Paul’s phone started ringing. Who was calling? Ralf.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[confessionbrain-writings]

Stairway to Heaven - Hank Thompson

Pairings: Hank Thompson x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smutty content, unprotected p in v

A/N: Just seeing Austin as Hank in Caught Stealing got me reeling already, I'm afraid I can't cope when the movie comes out. Anyway, I went feral by seeing this photo and I couldn't stop thinking about it. It's not exactly what I had in mind and it's definitely not perfect, but it's something. There will be mistakes, I quickly typed this out and am too tired to fix it, you've been warned. 🧡

Check my masterlist here

A deep, irritated sigh escaped your lips as you eyed the clock behind the bar. One hour. You’d been waiting one whole hour for your date, and he still wasn’t there. That motherfucker stood you up. 

The handsome bartender, Hank, noticed your sour mood. He swung the towel he was using to dry glasses over his shoulder and leaned casually against the bar. He crossed his arms and eyed the clock as well, giving you a knowing look.

“He still ain’t here, is he?” He asked, his voice deep and soft.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Clearly, I’m still here on my own, aren’t I? So, yeah. He ain’t here.”

A grin tugged at his lip at your sharp and bitter tone. “Shame to stand up a pretty girl like you.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to the asshole, ” you snapped and slurped the last bit of your drink before shoving it across the bar with more force than necessary.

He picked it up and placed it with the dirty dishes, before continuing with drying glasses. “I will. But you know… some people just don’t know a good thing when they have it. It’s his loss.”

“Ugh, I guess so.” You agreed and couldn’t stop the words from spilling over your lips, unable to control your frustration. “I’m mean, seriously. I even went to get my nails done, bought this new dress— hell, I even put on this uncomfortable but stunning heels!”

The build-up frustration made you stand up, while you continued your rant. “And for what? To sit here all by myself, sipping some mojitos looking like a loner and—“ a tearing feeling made you stop in your tracks and looked down at the back of your thigh.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” You cursed upon eyeing the hole and growing ladder in your tights, caused by a chipped part of the barstool.

A chuckle made you look up. Hank eyed the tear and a smirk appeared upon his face.

“What’s so funny?” You asked, heat creeping into your cheeks.

“What’s funny,” he started, closing the distance so you could feel heat radiating from him, “is that you’re all dolled up for that asshole, but I’m the one getting a show.”

A shiver ran down your spine as his voice dropped an octave lower.

“And if I’m being honest, that ladder in your tights? Damn, it’s a stairway to heaven to me, and if you’ll let me, I’d gladly climb it.”

His words caught you off guard for a split second, the tension between you palpable and electric. Hank’s gaze changed and somehow your frustration transformed into anticipation, tension filling the air between you.

You leaned back so you could take a look at his face, checking if he was joking or not. The playful grin made way for a longing look, eyes flicking between yours and your lips. Your heart started to pound aggressively in your chest as you took a few shallow breaths.

“Well… maybe I’ll let you.” 

That was all the confirmation Hank needed. He made his way over and slung his arm over your shoulder, guiding you towards the back while he called to his co-worker Joe, to take over.

Before you knew it, you were cornered between shelves, carton boxes and crates. His broad hands roaming all over you, squeezing you at all the right places. Your heart-rate was skyrocketing, accompanied by your panting breath.

Your hands were trembling as you started to unbutton his shirt, and caught his eye, his usual blue eyes were now darkened with desire and it only fueled the building fire within you.

Without wasting another second he closed the distance and hungrily pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was wild, sloppy and full of hunger. It felt like you were on fire, and your body was yearning. Yearning for him.

His hands roamed down your waist to your thighs, and a gasp left you when the sounds of ripping fabric filled the room. Hank had ripped your tights all the way up to a big hole, so your inner thighs and apex were kissed by the cool air of the storage room.

A hoarse laugh came from Hank. “Oh, you should see your face.”

You huffed back and started to unbutton his pants, quickly snaking your hand into his boxers to cup his growing bulge. His brows knitted together and a soft moan escaped him.

“You should see your face.” You countered as you started to stroke him. 

Hank answered with another huffed chuckle and grabbed your wrist, tugging at it sharply and turned you around, so your front was pressed against a shelf.

“Yeah? Well, let’s see your face when I’m done with you.”

Without wasting another second he flicked the skirt of your dress up, bending you roughly against the shelf so you were more exposed to him and pushed your thong to the side.

A squeak left you as you felt his hot breath against your throbbing core, quickly followed by a long and sensational stroke of his tongue which made your knees buckle. He leaned back and spat, spreading the saliva with his finger, teasing your entrance, which made you moan in pleasure.

Gosh, it felt like you were about to jump out of your skin and before you knew it, you begged him. “Please…just fuck me already.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. He leaned back and made quick work of releasing his cock. A scraping noise of a crate being dragged across the floor made you look down, and watched how he had placed his foot on top of it, before lining himself up against your soaking entrance. His broad hands palmed your sides as he started to tilt his hips. 

He slowly filled you up, and the most sinful moan crawled its way out of your throat. You closed your eyes and reveled is the feeling of him stretching you open and filling you with his cock.

“Ah, fuck!” You moaned and pressed your hips back, eager to feel more of him. 

“So damn tight.” He groaned through clenched teeth and gripped your hips tighter. Slowly he started to thrust in and out. Your body starting to open up to him as he picked up his pace.

Moans and groans of pleasure started to escape the both of you. The building pleasure made you dig your nails into the wooden shelf as adrenaline pumped through your veins.

Hank praised you. Praising you on how amazing you felt and how you took him so well, causing goosebumps to break out all over your skin.

For fuck’s sake. This man was fucking you so good. So deliciously sinful and rough, it had nothing to do with making love, it was like a carnal need which both of you yearned for.

The shelf bucked against the wall with every hard thrust, causing some of the boxes with napkins and straws clatter onto the floor, but Hank didn’t care and neither did you. All what mattered was now, reveling in the pleasure the both of you experienced. 

One of Hank’s hands roamed over your thigh to the back of your knee, guiding it up onto the shelf so you were just standing on one leg, this way he created more access to enter your heavenly paradise. And goodness, this position made your body feel electric. 

Without losing a beat he kept on pounding into you like a madmen and you held on to the shelf for dear life. You felt how your heel was starting to slip from your foot and clattered to the floor, accompanying the other items from the shelf.

Hank started to grunt and his hips started to falter, him coming closer and closer to his release. His grip on your hips intensified and you were sure it would leave some bruises from how tight he held you. 

“Ah… mmmh.. fuck!” He cursed as he came. His thrust started to slow, creating a moment for the both of you to catch your panting breath. Your leg started to get a bit numb and you supported yourself onto your hands, turning your head to look at him.

His hair was tousled and a tiny drop of sweat adorned his brow, his lips were parted so his pants could escape. But his eyes were focused on the part where you still were connected. And he looked like… he looked like he was in a kind of haze, in a really good daydream, his expression filled with satisfaction. He lifted his gaze when he felt yours. A dazzling smile broke on his face as he shook his head. 

“You know,” he started and leaned forward, causing you to moan as he filled you once more. “I’m really glad I climbed those stairs, you know. Heaven is a place on earth, and it’s right there between your legs.”

His comment make you blush and you bit your lip. He cleared his throat as he gently pulled out and zipped himself up. He reached out for a napkin to clean you up.

“Meet me after my shift, so I can take you to my place.”

You shot him a questionable look. “Why would I do that?” “I can assure you, you won’t regret it. And even though I know you enjoyed this fuck, you didn’t come. So let me make that up to you and take you to heaven.“

Leave some 🧡 by a comment or reblog, would love to hear what you think and if you like to read more!

[dr-spectre]

As someone who's been in multiple fandom circles and calls themselves a Splatoon fan, I've seen a lot of focus and discussion on "THE LORE!!" and "CANON!!!" and to be honest with you... it's getting really tiring and I think people are just WAY TOO obsessed with what a wiki or an intern at Nintendo says rather than forming their own perspective on events and coming to their own unique conclusions.

Now, I wanna say, if talking about lore and discussing which elements are canon or not makes you happy and you love talking about that, then that's perfectly okay. It's fine. It's not for ME personally because my focus on Splatoon is the gameplay, music and the storytelling chops of each Hero Mode.

Story >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Canon for me any day of the week i do not care.

Because, to get away from Splatoon for a second, for my Sonic fans out there, you remember when Sega and the people behind the show Sonic Prime said that it was canon to the mainline Sonic timeline? And if you said otherwise you were technically wrong because "oh Sega said this, so it MUST be true!"

........But then everyone said that Sonic Prime cannot be canon to the mainline Sonic timeline because it has a fuck ton of inconsistencies? Yeah.... funny. Basically, don't put a lot of focus into "what actually happened" and "oh this is what the multi billion dollar corporation said!" because there's always gonna be one guy out there that goes "um this information kinda fucking damages the story in a severe way." (And sometimes that one guy is me.... hehehehe....)

I could obviously talk about.... you know.... Hypno Callie again for the 50th trillion time.... (and i will)..... This bitch.... I wanna love you girlie i really fucking do but Nintendo and millions of people make it hard to....

Nintendo set up Callie's villain arc decently in Splatoon 1 with the Splatfest dialogue, the Squid Sister stories and the Sunken Scrolls, yet they ultimately damaged the progression of the arc by saying "nah fuck u she got kidnapped and brainwashed, removing all of her memories and free will because fuck telling a good story with satisfying set up and pay off that allows for character growth. Fundamentals of storytelling? What are those?" And it also destroyed Callie as a character by reducing her to an object that the player "must save from da evil Octavioooo" and "oh look at her! She put the stupid brainwashing shades onnn againnn!! such a dumb fucking moron dumbass piece of shit right guys?!? lmaoooooooooo!! explore the dangers of addiction and how you need to seriously change your life and be surrounded by those you love in order to change bad habits?? Themes?? PFFTTT! NAWWW! THAT'S LAMEEEE!! It's Callie! No one cares about Callie!! She's stupiddd!!!"

(I talked about Callie in a tumblr comment section one time and I got made fun of for by a guy way older than me. I love humanity.)

It also ruined DJ Octavio's character too because, if what Nintendo said is true about what he did then he cannot be redeemed in Splatoon 3. He cannot go back on the shit he's done. But they try to redeem him out of nowhere and now he's all chill with the New Squidbeak Splatoon and appeared in the Grand Fest.... Yet what he did to Callie which Nintendo loves to push is truly TRULY unredeemable and if that's the case then welp.... I call that bad writing, straight up. It's bad writing.

I really hate it when something happens in a story and you perceive it in a certain way where you feel like it elevates the events, but then the company behind the story chooses to pick the worst outcomes possible just because? And everyone rolls with it just cause? Ugh...

Lesson of today is, don't fucking listen obsessively to what a company says and suck it up. Consume media and come to your own conclusions on what happened. As long as you have tangible evidence to back up your claims you can make any interpretation you want to, whatever makes you feel happy bestie!

[persistentplums]

No matter what you think about Brock and Rusty one thing is true they raised those boys together. And anyone will tell you kids pick up qualities of their guardians/parents which influences how they go about things.

The influence of Brock on Hank is simple, it’s the one the show starts off with and we see easily throughout the show. I wish they could’ve done more with Dean and Brock, unfortunately they don’t overlap enough to do something with but when they have overlapped the small moments, you stretch it you can see the impact Brock has on Dean.

“He believes in this stuff, not like Hank.”

“I have watched you pull a man eye from his head, made him dance like marionette with his own optic nerves.” “At least I didn’t break his heart.”

Heart is Brock entire thing. He is punished for his act of heart going against OSI and getting Billy and Pete together, him racing back in PROM, his attachment to the Ventures, and funny enough his lack of any real love life is because Brock does things true to his heart even when he’s not supposed to (“you’re a tool for the government.”)

That’s super easy to see in Hank, he follows his guns, jumps in, doesn’t second guess if he’s wrong. For Dean it comes out in belief of there being Good Guys. Something Brock shares. For a man who has no real issue with murder the idea of “Good guys” is a thing he sticks with very seriously. Dean copies this to a Dorky level coming off naive but it’s literally the same packaged differently.

Hank knows though everyone is just some guy, a bad guy or a good guy you are just some guy. A lot like his dad in that respect, when you understand this is all a game you can’t really bother with genuinely thinking of sides just how you interact within it. (Hank not really put off about dating Sirena even if her dad is his dad arch. That’s more of an obstacle that they are put into arch and protag categories so he can’t date her normally bc it’s not an actual *thing* for him)

Dean however is under the firm belief there are sides, they can work together sometimes bc he’s seen it, but like Brock, he believes in sides and gets riled up by it.

Speaking of riled up, Dean has Brock temper. I didn’t think much about it to be honest, it shows itself twice physically (Rusty Camp, radiant of the baboon) but when I hop around episodes now I see it in newer episodes. Dean temper is similar to Brock when he is really pushed off the need to protect or save another quality that is picked up by Brock.

Brock aggression is something Dean who is used to seeing it come out when he, hank and doc need protecting, saving, or an affective tactic. Another thing is Brock was and probably still is both boys example of classic masculinity in contrast to their dad (I’ll get back to this on another post.) I think Dean unintentionally mimics it, and I kinda believe we would’ve seen more of it if Dean was put into more situations where he was worried for someone else since the Rusty camp one was for Triana and the movie was for Hank. (Both against Dermontt which shouldn’t count but I am which I will get to in a different post about jealousy in VB)

Brock is the stereotypical “man” he protects the home, he kills to protect, his basics are that man spiel I don’t need to say we know it. Brock masculinity is never questioned really, it oozes out of him and is loudly punctuated. When it comes to sex it’s the same thing, to a problem. I think Dean inherited that, im not saying the one time Dean did a shitty sex related thing makes him like Brock but I actually think it’s more of a Brock move than Rusty weirdly enough. Probably because Brock has hooked up with people wives/gf but that’s not the reason why I say it.

Dean reason with hooking up with Sirena wasn’t really solid, because I don’t think there was a solid reason he did it just because it was happening. That’s why I think it’s more of a Brock move. Rusty we’ve seen talked himself out of being with women who even like him, yes he hooked up with a fan bc she was a fan. She wasn’t someone who can end up seeing his flaws, end up maybe loving back because love is frightening for Rusty because he wants it. If there was a room and a woman who was slightly interested in Rusty, Rusty would magically get out of the room then COMPLAIN he is out the room. We see it repeatedly he will make up reasons really get in his head to jump ship only to stick to people who don’t love him. Or like him.

Hank is the same line but opposite, he is open to love! Yes like Brock his attention to who is quick and focused but Hank is committed because he wants to be loved. Hank is scared of not being loved, he worries although less obviously or loudly about it, and leans hard into it. Action man called him on it, that he resembles Rusty in being downright too attached.

I’ll be honest here it’s so unlikely to actually see it but once you see the Rusty in Hank you’ll end up seeing the Brock in Dean. I remember a YouTube comment saying “Dean is all the negatives [of other people] it’s why I don’t like him.”

I don’t hate Dean, I don’t love Dean but I get Dean so while I don’t 100% agree with that comment I do get it. Dean picks up sometimes the worst traits because he’s so easy to imprint on. He’s funny like that, weirdly easy to leave an impression on but unaware how he repeats things of people he doesn’t want to. Brock being promiscuous, Rusty nostalgic past, the idea of what is important to a man etc Dean mimics it unknowingly. I don’t think that was the root of hooking up with Sirena, (bc the reason is bs yall) I’m just thinking of domino effect of parenting.

There’s a lot of Rusty in Dean literally everything Dean has is Rusty. But where they don’t match up are the core, Dean now understands his dad and they are the same brand of Venture boy but I really think Brock influence on both boys is there for good and bad it just harder to find in Dean. But I think it comes out when Dean stops letting his mind run too much, when he trusts himself, when he’s standing up for something, when he lets his body drive.

But I’m just spitballing! I just don’t believe Dean is all Doc, just like Hank isn’t all Brock. We just didn’t get a lot of time with the boys switched around

[charlieg1rl]

⤜ ˚. ✦ ⸝⸝ ֙⋆ 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 ᳝ › 𓈒 ୨.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐞𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐫𝐨𝐦-𝐜𝐨𝐦

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐠𝐲𝐦 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐲/𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐬𝐞𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓𝐤

You had always been fiercely competitive, especially when it came to working out. The gym was your sanctuary, a place where you could focus on your goals and shut out the rest of the world. That is, until Seo Changbin started showing up.

It started innocently enough—he'd be working on his deadlifts while you tackled the squat rack, both of you exchanging nothing but glances, silently sizing each other up. But eventually, it turned into something else.

Every time Changbin was around, you pushed yourself harder. If he upped his weight, you'd increase yours. If he spent an extra ten minutes on the treadmill, you'd go fifteen. It was a silent battle, but one that neither of you was willing to lose.

The problem? He was annoyingly good. No matter how much you pushed yourself, Changbin always seemed one step ahead. And the worst part? The quiet noises you made as you lifted—the soft huffs of breath, the occasional grunt of effort—never escaped his notice.

One afternoon, the gym was unusually quiet. Just you, Changbin, and the rhythmic clinking of weights. You were mid-lift, focusing on keeping your form perfect, when you heard him snicker softly from across the room.

You set the barbell down with a frustrated sigh and glanced over at him. "What’s so funny?"

Changbin, who had been busy with his dumbbell curls, didn’t even look up. "Nothing," he said, his tone casual, almost too innocent. But there was a smirk pulling at his lips.

"Doesn't sound like nothing," you muttered, picking up a towel and wiping the sweat off your forehead. He was always like this—infuriatingly smug but never outright rude. It was as if he thrived on getting under your skin.

"I just didn't realize you made so much noise when you work out," he teased, still not looking at you directly but clearly enjoying your reaction.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, though it wasn’t from the workout. You glared at him, crossing your arms. "Maybe you're just easily distracted."

Finally, Changbin set his weights down and turned to face you, leaning against the bench press with an amused expression. "Or maybe you’re trying too hard to keep up."

Your eyes narrowed. "Keep up? With you? Please."

He laughed softly, the sound low and maddening. "Hey, I’m just saying, if you want some tips, I could always—"

"I don’t need tips from you, Changbin," you shot back, stepping closer. You were nearly toe-to-toe now, the intensity between you electric. "Maybe you should focus on your own workout instead of listening to mine."

For a second, his eyes flickered with something unreadable, the playful arrogance faltering. But then his smirk returned, wider this time, more challenging. "Alright, how about a bet then?"

"A bet?"

"Yeah. Whoever can squat the most by the end of the month wins. Loser has to buy the winner dinner."

You raised an eyebrow. "Dinner?"

"What, afraid you'll lose?"

"Not a chance." You extended your hand. "Deal."

Changbin took it, his grip firm, his smirk never leaving his face. "Better start working on those lifts, Y/N. I’d hate to see you struggle."

The rivalry had officially been set, and now every session felt like a ticking clock. You could feel Changbin's eyes on you every time you walked into the gym, assessing your progress and your technique, but you were just as guilty of stealing glances at him.

It was all in good fun—or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. But the truth was, something about the whole thing had begun to mess with your head. Maybe it was the idea of losing to him, or maybe it was that smug look he gave you every time he outdid your numbers. Whatever it was, you were determined to win this bet.

It was about two weeks into the bet, and your routine had started to revolve almost entirely around this silent competition. Changbin had been throwing around heavier weights like it was nothing, and though you were keeping up, it was hard to ignore the way he always seemed to be a step ahead.

Today, however, was going to be different.

You loaded up the squat bar with more weight than usual, determined to set a new personal record. Changbin had noticed, of course—he always did. You could feel his eyes on you, but you refused to look his way. You focused on your breathing, on your stance, on everything but him.

You managed the first rep easily enough. The second one was a bit more of a struggle, but you powered through it. On the third rep, though, you started to feel the strain.

"Careful," a low voice suddenly interrupted from behind you.

Of course it was him.

"I'm fine," you muttered through gritted teeth, determined not to let him break your focus.

Changbin crossed his arms, standing back but still close enough that you knew he was watching. "You sure? That last one looked like it almost got you."

You glared at him through the mirror in front of you. "I said I'm fine."

Ignoring him, you went for the fourth rep, legs trembling as you tried to push through. You were just about to straighten up when your muscles gave out. Before you could drop the barbell, Changbin was there, steadying the weight and helping you guide it back to the rack.

Your heart was pounding—not from the exertion, but from how close he was. His hands were still on the barbell, and you could feel the warmth of his body just inches from yours.

"See? Told you," he said, his voice softer now, without the usual smugness. "I don’t want to see you hurt yourself trying to win this thing."

You turned around to face him, your breathing still heavy from the lift. "I’m not going to lose, Changbin."

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the tension between you wasn’t about the competition anymore. It was something else, something that neither of you had acknowledged yet.

He chuckled lightly, stepping back and giving you space, though there was something different in his expression now. "You’re really serious about this, huh?"

"Of course I am. Aren’t you?"

He shrugged, wiping some sweat from his brow. "Yeah, but...I don’t know. I figured you’d tap out by now."

You crossed your arms, offended. "Why? Because you think I can’t handle it?"

"No, because most people would’ve given up with how hard you’ve been pushing yourself."

His tone wasn’t mocking anymore. If anything, it sounded almost...impressed?

"I told you, I don’t give up," you said firmly. "And I’m not losing to you."

Changbin raised his hands in surrender, his grin returning. "Alright, alright. I’ll back off for now. But you should let me spot you next time if you’re going for a PR. I don’t want to have to swoop in at the last second again."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. "Fine. But only because I don’t want you making a big deal about it later."

As he walked back to his weights, you caught yourself watching him for a moment longer than usual. There was something about the way he’d come to your aid without hesitation, the way his tone had softened, that made your heart skip a beat.

This bet had started out as a rivalry, but it was becoming something else entirely.

The next few days were a blur of intense workouts and sly glances. Changbin had started offering to spot you more often, and though you'd initially refused, it became harder to say no when you knew he was genuinely trying to help.

But today, something was different.

As you finished up your routine, Changbin appeared at your side, water bottle in hand. "You wanna grab coffee or something after this?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "Coffee?"

"Yeah," he said casually, though his eyes held that mischievous glint you’d grown used to. "You know, just to practice for when you lose."

You rolled your eyes. "Please. I’m still winning this thing."

But despite your protests, you found yourself saying yes. The rivalry was still there, but something else had started to bloom between you two. Maybe it was the shared determination, or maybe it was the fact that you’d gotten under each other’s skin in the best possible way.

Either way, this ‘coffee date’ was going to be interesting.

As you both wrapped up your workouts and headed to the nearby café, the air buzzed with an unspoken tension, the atmosphere thick with the anticipation of something more than just a friendly rivalry. You could feel it in the way Changbin kept glancing at you, a small smile playing on his lips, as if he was excited about this unexpected twist in your dynamic.

The café was cozy, filled with the rich aroma of coffee and freshly baked goods. You both settled into a booth in the back corner, the soft chatter of other patrons providing a comforting backdrop. As you scanned the menu, Changbin leaned back, casually watching you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“So, what’s it gonna be? The loser pays, remember?” he reminded, crossing his arms with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your amusement. “I’m not losing, Changbin. So you better pick something good.”

He chuckled, his gaze unwavering. “You really are serious about this. I like that.”

You looked up, surprised by his sincerity. “Why? Because most people don’t care about a friendly competition?”

“More like because you actually challenge me,” he replied, leaning forward, elbows on the table. “Most people just want to lift and leave. You push yourself, and you push me too. It’s refreshing.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Well, I’m not backing down anytime soon. This is just getting started.”

As you placed your order, the conversation flowed easily between you two. You talked about everything—from your workout routines to your favorite music—and you found yourself laughing more than you expected. Changbin had a way of making you feel comfortable, and it felt nice to just enjoy each other’s company outside the confines of the gym.

After a while, you couldn’t resist teasing him. “So, tell me. What’s the secret to your incredible lifting skills? Is it just natural talent, or do you have some hidden workout routine you’re not sharing?”

He raised an eyebrow, a playful grin on his lips. “Oh, you know, just a bit of magic and a lot of hard work. But if you really want to know, I do have a secret. I visualize lifting heavy weights while eating a whole pizza. It really helps.”

You burst into laughter, shaking your head. “That’s the worst advice I’ve ever heard. But I appreciate your dedication to pizza.”

“Hey, it’s all about balance, right?” He shrugged, feigning seriousness. “Work hard, eat hard.”

Your food arrived, and you both dug in, the conversation flowing seamlessly. As you talked, you noticed the way he watched you, the way his eyes sparkled when you animatedly shared stories about your workouts and your goals.

The more time you spent with him, the more you realized how much you enjoyed this side of Changbin—the one that was genuine and unguarded, not just the competitive gym rat you’d been clashing with.

As the dinner progressed, the conversation took a more personal turn. You found yourself sharing stories about your family, your aspirations beyond fitness, and even your struggles. Changbin listened intently, nodding and responding with genuine interest.

“I’ve always wanted to do something in music,” he admitted after a moment of silence, his expression turning contemplative. “But I never thought I’d end up where I am now. It just kind of happened.”

You leaned in, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I was always drawn to it, but I never thought I’d be a part of a group. I thought it would just be a hobby.” He chuckled lightly. “Now look at me, battling it out in the gym and on stage.”

“It’s pretty amazing, though,” you said, genuinely impressed. “You get to do what you love and inspire others.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.” He paused, his gaze shifting to the window for a moment. “Sometimes I wonder if I could ever do anything else. But I love performing. It’s the adrenaline, the crowd... there’s nothing like it.”

“Do you ever get nervous?” you asked, curious about the man behind the persona.

“Of course. Everyone does. But I try to use it to fuel my performance. Kind of like how I do with working out—turning the pressure into motivation.” He looked back at you, and there was something in his eyes that made your heart race. “I think it’s all about mindset, you know?”

You nodded, feeling inspired. “That’s a good way to look at it. I think we’re both pushing ourselves to become the best versions of ourselves in our own ways.”

Changbin smiled, and in that moment, you felt a shift between you two—something that transcended the friendly competition that had sparked this dinner. The laughter, the stories, and the connection you were building felt undeniable.

As you finished your meal, Changbin leaned back, a satisfied grin on his face. “Well, I have to say, this was way more fun than I expected. Who knew dinner with my gym rival would be this enjoyable?”

You chuckled, pushing your empty plate aside. “I guess it’s not so bad when we’re not trying to outlift each other.”

“Speaking of which,” he said, his tone suddenly serious, “I’m still determined to win this bet. Just so you know.”

You smirked, feeling a surge of competitive spirit. “Bring it on. I’m not going down without a fight.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replied, a fire igniting in his eyes. “But just so you know, dinner’s on you next time.”

You laughed, enjoying the banter. “We’ll see about that!”

As you left the café, walking side by side, the evening air felt electric. The rivalry was still there, but now it was mixed with a growing connection, something deeper that you both were starting to acknowledge.

With every step, you felt the anticipation building for what lay ahead—not just in the gym, but in whatever was blossoming between you two. This competition was becoming more than just a battle of strength; it was the beginning of something exciting, and you couldn’t wait to see where it led.

As the weeks passed, the gym became a battleground of friendly competition and burgeoning chemistry between you and Changbin. The initial thrill of the bet had transformed into something deeper, with every workout session charged with an intensity that blurred the lines between rivalry and something much more intimate.

You and Changbin had developed a routine. He would spot you during your lifts, and you would call him out when he tried to slack off or take it easy. There was a rhythm to your exchanges, a playful back-and-forth that made every rep feel more intense and meaningful.

Today, as you both entered the gym, the atmosphere felt electric. It was an early Saturday morning, and the gym was relatively empty, the quiet hum of the machines echoing around you. You could feel Changbin’s eyes on you as you loaded up your weights, and you couldn’t help but smirk, knowing he was silently assessing your progress.

“Ready to lose?” he asked, a confident smirk spreading across his face.

You turned to him, an eyebrow raised. “In your dreams. Just wait until I crush my PR today.”

Changbin chuckled, stepping closer. “Alright, I’m counting on it. But remember, if you don’t hit it, you owe me that dinner.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, feeling the familiar spark of competition ignite. “Don’t get too cocky, Seo. You might end up paying for my meal instead.”

With that, you stepped up to the squat rack, your heart racing as you mentally prepared yourself. You could feel Changbin’s presence beside you, the weight of his gaze fueling your determination.

As you began your warm-up sets, you could hear him offering advice, coaching you through your form. “Keep your back straight! Focus on your breath!” His voice rang clear, steadying you when your muscles started to fatigue.

After a few warm-up sets, it was time to go for your new personal record. You loaded the barbell with the weight you had been dreaming about reaching. Your heart raced, not just from the weight but from the energy between you two—every glance, every word, adding to the tension.

You took a deep breath, focusing on the bar in front of you. The world around you faded as you set your grip, your hands tightening around the cold metal. With one last look at Changbin, who stood beside you with an encouraging smile, you felt a rush of adrenaline.

“Let’s do this,” you said, your voice steady as you positioned yourself under the bar.

As you began your lift, the weight felt heavier than usual. You focused on every ounce of strength within you, gritting your teeth as you pushed through the initial struggle. Halfway up, you felt a moment of doubt creeping in, your legs shaking under the strain. But then you heard Changbin’s voice, clear and unwavering.

“Come on! You got this! Just a little more!”

With his words echoing in your mind, you summoned every ounce of power and pushed through. The barbell rose above your head, and as you locked it into place, a wave of triumph washed over you.

“I did it!” you exclaimed, breathless and exhilarated, as you set the bar back down. You turned to see Changbin’s face alight with pride, his eyes sparkling.

“You killed it!” he shouted, an infectious grin spreading across his face. “I knew you could do it!”

Your heart raced—not just from the effort but from the way he looked at you, the unmasked admiration shining in his eyes. “Thanks! I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

As you stepped away from the rack, Changbin moved closer, his expression suddenly serious. “You really pushed yourself today. I’m impressed. This rivalry is making you stronger.”

You felt a rush of warmth at his words, a mix of pride and something deeper stirring within you. “Thanks. It’s easier when I have someone like you around to keep me motivated.”

Changbin chuckled lightly, but there was a hint of something more in his voice. “You know, I didn’t expect to have this much fun working out with someone. I thought it would just be about the competition.”

You shrugged, feeling a bit bashful under his gaze. “Yeah, same. I guess it’s turned into something different, hasn’t it?”

“Definitely.” He stepped closer, his gaze intense. “I’ve enjoyed every minute of this. And it’s not just about our competition anymore.”

A heartbeat of silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken feelings. Your heart raced, caught between the thrill of the competition and the undeniable connection that had formed between you.

“Are you saying you want to do more than just workout together?” you ventured, teasing but hoping he’d understand the weight of your words.

He grinned, the playful glint returning to his eyes. “Well, I wouldn’t mind some extra training outside the gym. Maybe a movie or two? Or just hanging out?”

Your breath hitched, a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling within you. “Are you asking me out on a date, Seo Changbin?”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

You felt a rush of joy, mixed with disbelief. “Well, I can’t say I’m opposed to that idea.”

“Great!” he said, visibly relieved. “How about dinner tomorrow? My treat this time. No bet involved.”

You nodded, a smile spreading across your face. “Deal. But don’t think I’ll go easy on you in the gym just because we’re hanging out.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replied, matching your grin.

The next day, the anticipation of your dinner with Changbin made it nearly impossible to focus on your workout. As you went through your routine, your mind kept wandering to the thought of what the evening would bring. You were excited, but you were also a little nervous—this was uncharted territory, and you wanted it to go perfectly.

When the time finally came, you chose a casual outfit that still made you feel confident, wanting to impress him without overdoing it. As you walked to the café you’d chosen, you felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach. What if it changed everything between you two?

Changbin arrived just a few minutes after you did, looking effortlessly cool in a casual hoodie and jeans. He smiled widely when he saw you, and you could feel your heart race in response.

“Hey! You look amazing,” he said as he approached, and you felt a warm blush creep up your cheeks.

“Thanks! You don’t look too bad yourself,” you replied, your smile widening.

They settled into a cozy booth, and as you both perused the menu, the conversation flowed easily. Changbin told stories from his time training with his group, recounting funny moments that made you laugh. You shared stories from your own life, your dreams, and the little quirks that made you who you were.

As the night went on, the laughter between you two felt effortless. The connection you’d felt in the gym only grew stronger as you shared these moments of vulnerability and joy.

“So, what do you think about the next competition?” he asked, leaning back in his seat, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Are you ready to defend your title?”

You laughed, taking a sip of your drink. “Oh, you mean the one where I completely crush you again? Absolutely.”

“Dream on,” he shot back, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’ll have to step up my game. No more pizza magic!”

As the night came to a close, you both walked out into the cool evening air. The world around you felt different, lighter, as if something had shifted within both of you.

“Thanks for tonight,” Changbin said, turning to face you, his expression sincere. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too,” you replied, your heart racing at the way he looked at you, the intensity of his gaze making you feel seen in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

Without thinking, you took a step closer, feeling a pull towards him. “So, does this mean we’re officially gym partners and... more?”

He grinned, taking another step forward, closing the distance. “Definitely. I’d like that very much.”

As the words hung between you, something shifted in the air, a moment of hesitation before he leaned in, his hand gently brushing against your arm. Your heart raced, and you found yourself leaning closer, caught in the moment.

But before you knew it, Changbin pulled back slightly, a teasing smile on his lips. “Just so you know, I won’t go easy on you in the gym because we’re dating.”

You laughed, relieved and exhilarated. “Good. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

The following weeks were a whirlwind of shared workouts, late-night texts, and unexpected moments that made your connection with Changbin grow stronger. The rivalry had transformed into a supportive partnership, one that felt exhilarating and new. Each session in the gym was no longer just about lifting weights; it was about lifting each other up, celebrating progress, and discovering the joys of being together.

One Saturday afternoon, you both decided to change things up a bit. Instead of your usual gym routine, you planned an outdoor workout at a nearby park. The weather was perfect—sunny and warm, with just the right amount of breeze to keep things comfortable.

As you arrived at the park, you could feel the energy of the day surrounding you. Families picnicked on the grass, couples strolled hand in hand, and joggers passed by, their laughter and chatter creating a lively backdrop. You spotted Changbin by a fitness area equipped with bars and benches, doing some warm-up stretches.

“Hey!” he called out, waving as you approached. His smile lit up his face, and you couldn’t help but grin back.

“Hey! Ready to get your sweat on?” you teased, watching as he flexed his arms, showcasing his toned muscles.

“Always. But I hope you’re ready, too. I have some new moves I want to show you,” he replied, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh really? I hope they’re not as crazy as your pizza magic.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Trust me, they’re way more effective. Let’s get started!”

The workout was invigorating. You moved from exercise to exercise, alternating between bodyweight drills and strength training. With the sun shining down and the fresh air filling your lungs, it felt refreshing to be outside, away from the usual confines of the gym.

As you pushed through your reps, you could feel Changbin’s presence beside you, his encouragement motivating you to push harder. “You got this! Just a few more!” he cheered, his enthusiasm infectious.

After a particularly grueling set, you collapsed onto the grass, panting and laughing. “I can’t believe how much I’m sweating! Who knew outdoor workouts could be this intense?”

Changbin plopped down beside you, mirroring your laughter. “Right? But look at us, we’re getting stronger together!”

You both lay there for a moment, catching your breath while the warm sun bathed you in golden light. The peacefulness of the park contrasted with the adrenaline from your workout, creating a comfortable silence that felt intimate.

“Thanks for always pushing me,” you said, turning your head to meet his gaze. “I really appreciate it.”

Changbin looked at you, his expression sincere. “You make it easy. I love seeing you challenge yourself and succeed. It’s inspiring.”

You felt a rush of warmth at his words, and for a moment, the world around you faded away. There was something special about this bond you were forming—something that felt deeper than just workouts and competition.

Suddenly, a playful idea struck you. “Alright, enough of this ‘supportive gym partner’ stuff. Let’s see who can do the most pull-ups.”

Changbin’s eyes lit up, a competitive spark igniting. “You’re on! Just remember, no mercy!”

You both jumped to your feet, heading over to the pull-up bars. As you started your sets, you could feel the excitement building in the air. With each rep, the competitive energy surged, making the workout feel like a fun game rather than a test of strength.

“Come on, you can do better than that!” Changbin called out, encouraging you between his own sets.

You grinned, matching his enthusiasm. “Just wait, I’m saving my energy for the final round!”

After several rounds, you both took a breather, panting and laughing. It was clear the friendly rivalry was in full swing, but there was an undercurrent of something more—an undeniable chemistry that made your heart race.

Later, as you sat on a nearby bench to rest, you looked at Changbin, noticing how the sunlight highlighted the contours of his face. There was a moment of silence, and you both exchanged a glance that felt electric.

“You know,” he started, breaking the tension, “I think this is my favorite way to work out. Just you and me, no pressure.”

“Agreed,” you replied, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. “It’s nice to just enjoy it without worrying about the competition.”

Changbin shifted closer, the air between you charged with an unspoken energy. “And who knew working out could lead to all this?” he said, gesturing around. “I mean, look at us!”

You smiled, feeling a mix of pride and happiness. “Yeah, it’s crazy. I never expected to meet someone like you at the gym.”

He looked at you, his expression growing serious. “I’m glad we met. I really like what we have.”

Your heart raced at his admission, the weight of his words sinking in. “Me too, Changbin. It feels…special.”

He reached out, gently brushing his fingers against yours, the simple gesture sending a shiver down your spine. “How about we keep this going? More workouts, more dinners, maybe some fun outings?”

You nodded, your smile widening. “Definitely. I’m all in.”

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the park, you both made your way back to your workout area, ready to finish the day strong. But there was a new layer to your routine now—a sense of partnership that felt profound and exciting.

After a few more exercises, you decided to call it a day, feeling accomplished and happy. As you walked side by side back to the car, the laughter and playful banter continued, but now there was an undercurrent of closeness that made everything feel different.

“Tomorrow, we’ll do cardio and abs, right?” Changbin asked, nudging your shoulder playfully.

“Only if you promise to go easy on me,” you shot back, grinning.

“Not a chance! I have to keep my title as the best gym partner,” he replied with mock seriousness.

You both burst into laughter, and as you reached your car, Changbin turned to face you, a smile still on his lips. “Thanks for today. I really had a great time.”

“Me too. Let’s make this a regular thing,” you said, feeling a warmth in your heart.

As you both exchanged goodbyes and promised to meet up again soon, you felt a spark of excitement for what was to come. This was more than just a gym partnership; it was a blossoming relationship filled with laughter, support, and the thrill of growing stronger together—both in and out of the gym.

And as you drove home, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that the best was yet to come.

tags: @jeonginsbaee

[zettaireido-emotion]

Camus character analysis: games VS anime

If you finished the Uta no Prince-sama anime and your opinion of this man is "wow, he's kinda terrible," I don't blame you. in fact I've seen a lot of people say this

In this post, I want to talk about his characterization in the games and give my two cents on what the anime was trying to do with him, especially in his single focus episode Saintly Territory (S3E6).

Disclaimer: I wrote this on a whim because I'm sick and stuck at home so if anyone reads this, sorry I might go all over the place

Spoilers for all of the games!

The "be my slave" thing

Starting with Anime Camus's most egregious crime: treating Haruka like a servant/slave (however you want to translate it)

Basically in his focus episode, Haruka is tasked with writing a song for Camus. She wants to learn more about him in order to write it, but Camus will only let her follow him if she acts as his servant. She accepts without complaining, Cecil is rightfully angry, Haruka continues anyway and the song gets completed.

Now, am I about to say that Game Camus would never do this? No because he literally does lmao.

The anime doesn't pull this "servant" plotline out of nowhere, here's the context in his route:

Haruka accidentally overhears Camus talking about a plot to assassinate Saotome on the phone. When he notices that she heard everything, he basically tells her that he has to kill her now. But if she served him, he'd be able to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't leak anything, so she could escape death.

Okay uh "work under me or DIE" isn't exactly better, nor is it a good start to a love story, but I'm not finished!!

(A side note: I have to add that the anime made him look like an even bigger asshole and borderline dumb when it came to the things he made her do. Like he expected her to know that snapping your fingers means you want coffee without prior explanation. bro

^This might have been for comedic effect but I promise he can be actually funny and endearing.)

What the anime couldn't cover

The Camus episode wraps up with Haruka pulling through and writing a song that makes Camus "sincere," he says it's cool at the very end and that's the episode. I think the problem is that we technically didn't see him being sincere or what that even means to him, besides when he was singing (banger song btw)

It's a shame because in a 20-minute episode you really can't show the game experience of slowly piecing together what this man's problem is.

First of all, in Debut and AS you'll be quick to notice that he always has homeland and duty on the mind, constantly reminding himself that he's in Shining Agency/Japan for a reason, and it's NOT to have fun or make friends

The truth is, he slowly starts to appreciate the banter with his colleagues, music, and working there in general.

But because of his initial mindset, he has to rationalize & justify every connection he forms, like "it's just for work" or worse: "actually it was ALL A LIE and I NEVER ENJOYED A SECOND OF THE TIME WE SPENT TOGETHER, I'm such a great actor haha"

He uses that to fool himself and to push the other person away so it doesn't happen again. This scene is probably the best example:

(I'll be using google lens because it's faster but I checked that the tls were okay)

He also does this in the Non-Fiction drama, which may or may not have actually happened, but I think it's still a pretty good reflection of what could happen in reality because he tells Ranmaru their bond was a lie, then mopes around in his guilt thinking about the good times and wondering why he's sad, and THEN later doubles down on the "it was a lie, I don't care about you" because he just can't let himself get attached to anything.

Basically, he's terrified at the thought of forming actual bonds because he genuinely thinks he's nothing if he stops being a cold weapon:

At one point he does admit he sucks (as a love interest)-

-which is pretty huge by utapri standards. I love these games, but the amount of times where a male lead does something icky, and everyone, including Haruka, acts like it's normal or like it's Haruka's fault is ehhh but I digress

Upbringing

Of course he's very proud of his homeland and status, but sometimes it's to the point of thinking he can't be anything other than his title. So why is he like this?

We got to hear about his childhood from Camus himself a few times, and it often ended with Haruka thinking "wait? that's kinda messed up?" and Camus insisting it's nothing/it's normal so yeah that's something...

His parents were in an unhappy arranged marriage, and his mother was forced to birth an heir which traumatized her so much that she can't see Camus without falling ill. Overall it's a pretty tragic situation since what happened to her was horrible, though not Camus's fault either. Even now she refuses to see him, and I wouldn't say that makes him sad because he never really met her, but simply knowing of her sacrifice probably adds a lot of pressure. As in, he only exists for this one purpose (inheriting his father's title and serving the country), so if he doesn't play his part correctly, it would have all been for nothing.

He was raised by his father not as a child or son but as the heir, always treated and judged as an adult (even during physical training apparently, make of that what you will)

When Haruka asks about childhood memories he has a very hard time finding something that doesn't have to do with his duties or the nation. And then admits he didn't truly have a "childhood" since he was never treated like a child

As for the queen, I think his love for her is sincere: she taught him a lot of things growing up, and according to him, she's also a victim trapped by her duties so he wants to ease the burden.

So hypothetically, if he found things or people that made him happy in Japan, he would feel obligated to lock them away because that happiness is incompatible with his life: he'll have to leave when his mission ends, he shouldn't be spending time on things that aren't "useful" as he doesn't have the free will to pursue them

In his mind he's completely tied down by the fact that he was born and raised for a single reason, and the fact that he does want to serve the queen.

(This is Saotome describing him btw)

Also it might sound ridiculous to bring his self-worth into question because of how pretentious he is, but I've counted a few situations where he seemed to have complete disregard for his own life, only worrying about Haruka and Cecil's safety in scenes when they were present. And he thinks wanting to be loved unconditionally is a childish thought he shouldn't have.

"Double Face" was a lie. There's like at least 10 layers

On the surface he does have two personas, his perfect polite butler act for the media, and his cold bitchy attitude off camera. But honestly, even when he's not acting as a butler, he's often putting up a front to hide any form of vulnerability (from himself as well)

His main struggle is finding who he is outside of what he's being told to do. Before, he never actually stopped to think about what he WANTS because it just never occurs to him, or if it does he ignores it.

That's why realizing that he has his own desires is essential to his character development, and him staying with Quartet Night (and Haruka in his routes) is so important. It's why Reiji feels the need to reach out and when he does, Camus either freezes up or tears up;

This all makes him the opposite of Ranmaru (being true to yourself and sincere), and similar to Ai (gradually learning to view the world in a less cold and logical way), but I kind of want to save that for another post lmao

He is especially hard on Cecil because Cecil says & does whatever he wants, and everything still works out for him, which is a way of life that Camus can't imagine for himself at all (despite maybe wanting it?)

That he can realize this and eventually admit out loud, despite all his pride, is also one of my favorite things about him

Season 2 does hint at something, so that's pretty cool!

Side note, I really love that his theme in the new Oracle series is "Change," the melting of ice.

So what was the anime supposed to do??

Of course there's no way to show all this in a single episode or even during the runtime of the anime, and I never expected them to because the story is very surface-level (that goes for all characters).

It's just unfortunate since the anime is the most accessible and well-known utapri media in the western fandom, and the character's main episode is bound to leave the biggest impression.

I understand the choice of being laser-focused on the servant plotline, it's supposed to be funny (?) and waters him down to a trope that's easy to understand at first glance (the step-on-me guy I guess)

Still, I can't help but compare it to Ranmaru's episode, who was also hard to work with in the games but was chill in S3E7 and got to pet cats. Anime onlys will never know how much Camus loves to dote on his dog smh.....

[svartalfhild]

More thoughts!

Illario is extremely sus.

THE CAMEOS!!!!! IN MINRATHOUS!!!!!

I always knew from the lore that the First Warden was a little bitch, but actually meeting him is a next level experience. What a fucking asshole.

Taash is such a fun character. They're so delightfully blunt, but also sweet in their own way. The gamer bros are so mad about Taash and those whiny little pieces of detritus can go fuck themselves.

Every now and again, there's a wild Matt Mercer, and I'm delighted. He Has The Range.

I'm genuinely enjoying the puzzles, which is a wild concept for a BioWare game. Finally, some good fucking level design.

They keep dropping deep lore bombshells that have put years of me going full Pepe Silvia over this world to shame, and I'm so excited about it.

Ghilan'nain is a straight up nasty bitch in every sense of the term, which I already kinda knew from Tevinter Nights, but fighting her makes me think Rook should invent bleach just to deal with her mess.

Emmrich's personal arc villain has energy somewhere between Yzma and Doc Ock, and I am very entertained.

Emmrich may not wear black, but he's the gothest motherfucker in this entire series and I couldn't be happier.

Everyone is so concerned about Lucanis' pantry living and it's very sweet but also hilarious.

I love watching Lucanis develop friendships with everyone else. That's right; open your heart, sad bird man.

Love how Taash is immediately Lucanis' #1 fan for assassin reasons and he's so confused by it.

Unlocking the pieces of Solas' backstory is so fun because you get worldview-altering lore drops and then the Veilguard has a family meeting every time to discuss the new info and read Solas for filth.

Absolutely worth reading any codex entries related to the Lighthouse or companions, because you get fun insight into the daily domestic living of the Veilguard in the Lighthouse on top of whatever lines you already get about it when they're talking to each other at home. They really are like a household.

I enjoyed the Descent DLC of Inquisition, so Harding's personal arc is an absolute joy.

All the gamer bros complaining that the game isn't dark, mature fantasy like the rest of the series are honestly probably just mad at the lack of Desire demons, because there is absolutely no shortage of dark shit in this game, y'all. I mean, for fuck's sake, the major factions in the story include 1) a struggling abolitionist resistance movement that routinely tangles with people engaging in horrifying ritual murder, 2) a guild of assassins who have way too much political power but have also been forced to become a resistance group because their country has no army, 3) the supposedly apolitical army of people who poison themselves to fight evil until they inevitably die horrible deaths, and 4) straight up necromancers. And that's just the factions! That's not even getting into the plot!

Neve and Lucanis continue to have stellar chemistry.

Bellara needs so many hugs and it frustrates me that I can't provide them.

Experienced a very funny glitch during Harding's second personal quest in Act 2 where something seemed off about my Rook and then I realized that her left boob was missing. Her left boob was Sir Not Appearing in This Film. Straight up had decided not to participate in this conversation. I lost my shit. I may share a screenshot of it at some point.

Taash admitting in an argument with Emmrich that they don't like him because they think necromancy is freaky allowed me the opportunity to be like "Do you think that about me? 🥺" as a Mourn Watcher, which I'm so glad of, because a lot of the companions are uncomfortable with Emmrich's necromancy and I have been dying to get the chance to call them out for not considering how that would make Rook feel.

Emmrich made a move on my Rook last night and *fans self* hoo lord. Lucanis better show up with some extremely strong game very soon, otherwise he will have thoroughly lost to Thedas' very own Hammer Horror Man.

(Davrin fell out of the running pretty quick, since his personality ended up not fitting well as a romance for my Rook. Ironically, when they first announced the companions, I was almost certain I would end up being a Davrin girlie. Alas, he is not the type I'd thought he'd be. He also failed to show up in a waistcoat, unlike the other two, and we all know how weak I am for a good waistcoat.)

I love that Act 2 is just like The Gang Goes To Therapy. Sometimes this involves killing things. Or people. But not always!

Some fun DATV things I'm experiencing:

Playing as female Rook makes the first few quests until you get Lucanis very Girls Night, which I really started to notice after a friend pointed it out and she is so right.

Neve is bestie.

Lucanis' intro cinematic made me feel so attacked. That shit was so my brand lol.

Lucanis and Neve's banter is hilarious and if I don't romance Lucanis I may end up shipping him with Neve.

Did Bellara's first personal quest and almost cried. Hit me a little close to home.

Neve's hangout quest was delightful. I want to chat and snack and walk around with her all day.

Neve and Bellara's developing friendship is so fun. I want to see a scene where Lucanis gets involved in their cooking adventures.

Shopping and getting coffee with Lucanis was like Oh No He's Thoughtful And Charming And I'm Weak.

Chose Lucanis over Neve in that one decision that made me want to scream and now she's hardened and I'm so sorry bestie I was thinking of the defenseless people and I will never be okay again.

Varric playing mentor to Rook got me right where it hurts. He's there for when you need an adultier adult to tell you that you're doing okay and that he's proud if you. I cry forever.

Assan and Manfred are my SONS and I LOVE THEM and I make the most ridiculous noises when they are on screen. THEY ARE SUCH GOOD BOYS.

The quest to acquire Emmrich is fucking delightful if you're a nice Mourn Watcher and you bring Bellara along. Just three huge nerds enjoying each other's company while doing dangerous shit.

Davrin and Emmrich's banter is like two dad's comparing notes.

As a Watcher, Myrna kinda feels like my mentor-mom, which is funny.

More thoughts to come. Just wanted to scribble down a few things so far for the people to let y'all know I'm having a fucking blast.

[fuzzbuns]

Quail, so confusing