#im not going to comment I'm not going to do it

[definitelynot-aleokin]

I both write and read fanfic. I read more than I write because writing while in university is hard. I also started on fanfic.net, though I am of the younger generation. I also spent time on wattpad before moving to ao3. I tend not to comment unless a certain part really gets me. A side comment on a subject here, that I know a lot about and want to share knowledge about how cool it is and you could add this if the fic goes that way! And I comment if I fic has me by the throat, but I only do on the last chapter, not every one. Part of this is while I was still younger, I made many mistakes. I embarrassed myself by commenting. So now, I wait, I think, and then I comment.

When it comes to my own fics, I could be projecting into the void and still write. For me, it's not about how many hits, kudos, or reviews. I write for me. I found, and make, my own happiness as a writer. Still, I LOVE when people comment! I get a lot of squees and "oh this one part is good!" But none are a conversation. I crave the conversation, really. I want to go feral with someone else who is just as feral about the subject (gimme the discords!). I love counting my kudos and hits. I see what stories I have that get a lot of people, and I see the ones that dont. But that doesnt make me write the more popular ones more. I write what I want. I have so many ideas that I dont think anyone is going to read, im still gonna write them (when I have time). Because, if I want it, statistically, there is one other who wants it just as bad. Even if they dont comment or kudo. I dont care. I want to be a writer that I would have wanted, either now, or growing up.

I'm pretty sure people dont like it when I post something original instead of only reblog on Tumblr. It doesnt stop me. And it shouldnt stop you. Its easier said than done, but, create your own validation and happiness.

"should we tell authors on ao3 when we have discord conversations about their fics" i don't speak for everyone here but if y'all ever find a group chat discussing my fics you can should must and WILL send me screenshots of the whole damn thing. inflate my ego. gimme

[whousestypewriters]

──── ୨ৎ THE BOOK CLUB — GRAYSON HAWTHORNE + READER ‧₊˚

a/n: pt two here we are!!! do i have any idea where this plot is going??? no. but you're along for the ride bitches so enjoy!! also if this is shit its bc im sleep deprived :)

[part one] i'm a fan

"it all happened so fast. everyone was happy... and then something happened... and now... now he's dead!" alya sobs from her spot on the couch.

"did you just spoil the book we're all reading together??" kira shrieks from her position on the mattress.

"i think the bitch actually just spoiled the entire book," pheobe rolls her eyes from underneath her blanket on the mattress next to kira's.

"oh come on you knew something like this was gonna happen!"

"yeah but i wasn't expecting it to be screamed aloud while i'm halfway through," kira says exasperated. "i mean please its not even five thirty yet, we got here an hour ago, how are you already finished?"

"alya, this is why we don't come over anymore," pheobe groans. "none of us were expecting that and now you've spoiled it."

"oh cry about it, i'm moving onto my next book anyway, does anyone want some snacks while i'm in the kitchen?" alya smiles nodding her head when kira requests some food and a bottle of water.

"so we're clearly never having a book club sleepover again guys," you say looking at the camera.

"no we're gonna have another," pheobe says shuffling over into the frame. "alya's just not invited."

────

yn.books

liked by alya.green, maxine.liu.loo, pheobethereader, kirasbooknook, graysonhawthorne and 672, 983 others

yn.books the book girlies unite!! for a sleepover a trip and a readathon (alya will not be invited back) stay tuned for the yt video!

tagged: alya.green, pheobethereader, kirasbooknook

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alya.green I AM OFFENDED

kirasbooknook good

pheobethereader had a lovely time with you girls can't wait to do it again (except for you alya)

alya.green u guys are so mean wtf

user1 im desperate to know why alya's in trouble lmaooo

user2 and im desperate to know why grayson is still in the likes

user3 THE GIRLIES ARE IN TEXAS I SAW THEN TODAY AND ASKED FOR A PHOTO!!!!

user4 they're in texas you say 😏😏

user5 divine rivals crushed me oh my goshhhh

graysonhawthorne divine rivals was a enticing read, thank you for the recommendation.

user6 ok so i died-

user7 OH OH OK SO WTF WHO WAS GONNA TELL ME GRAYSON IS HERE???

maxine.liu.loo the book girlies are together again!!! (invite me next time)

yn.books already done ;)

────

"they're mine," max's voice snips through the quiet of the room. she's staring directly at grayson and clearly referring to the book girls she watches.

"i'm not trying to steal anyone," grayson tries to reassure her.

"you're obsessed with my favorite one! why couldn't you have gone for pheobe or kira?" max huffs, you were her favorite. grayson had no right to become - rightfully - infatuated with you, and no matter how much he tries to deny it everyone can see he likes you. its painfully obvious.

"again i'm not stealing anyone, i've interacted like three times with-"

"grayson! the girl you're obsessed with posted another youtube video," jameson's extremely loud voice cuts through the room and emits a groan from grayson.

"i'm not obsessed with anyone," he says rising from his spot on the couch and picking up ruthless vows, which by the way he definitely went out and bought after he read divine rivals. what? he wanted to know what happened.

"oh my gosh they're in texas!!!" max screeches clearly watching the video. "they're in texas for a red carpet that they've been invited to!" she pauses watching for more conext. "they been invited to ask the people on the red carpet about books! oh my god- XANDER. we have to go to this event oh my gosh please?"

"sure and you can bring grayson along so he can officially join the book club, and meet his new idol," jameson smirks from the doorway

grayson responds by flipping him off.

────

graysonhawthorne

liked by thehawthorneheiress, ticking.time.bomb, yn.books, kirasbooknook and 4, 892, 647 others

graysonhawthorne a nice day out

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user1 i need him religiously

user2 NO BOOK THIS TIME???

user3 oh he is scrumptious isn't he

ticking.time.bomb i saw you obsessing over what photos to choose in case a certain someone saw this gray.....

user4 PLS TELL ME ITS WHO I THINK IT IS

thexanderhawthorne oh it is...

user4 OH MY GODDDD

user5 IN THE LIKES LOOK WHOS IN THE LIKES!!!!!!

user6 they're so into each other

alya.green we gotta catch up and talk about this whole situation buddy boy

user7 ALYA 😭💀

user8 i need him to go to the red carpet so they can meet!!!

────

maybe grayson should go to that red carpet... i mean he was invited. whats the worst that could happen?

𐔌 . ⋮ 🏷️ tags .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

@arqbella, @midiosaamor, @maybxlle @reminiscentreader, @sweetreveriee

@elysianwayy77 @tornqdowarnings, @catapparently, @zenikswaffleshop, @thelov3lybookworm

[its-avalon-08]

hearts intertwined (hamilton x sister! driver!rosberg) p18

chapter 18: voices got loud

series masterlist

The adrenaline from the race had finally started to ebb, leaving behind a strange emptiness. Y/N sat alone by the Red Bull garage, the trophy for the race winner gleaming in the fading sunlight. A quiet sense of victory mingled with a lingering unease. She had won, but at what cost?

Nico, his face etched with concern, approached her. He settled down beside her, his presence a comforting presence. "Schatz," he began, his voice gentle, "you did well out there. That was a fantastic drive."

Y/N nodded, her gaze fixed on the trophy. "Thanks, Nico."

A long silence followed. Then, Nico broke the silence, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment. "But that move on Lewis… it was unnecessary. You were fast, faster than him, but you didn't have to push him off the track."

Y/N stiffened. "Nico, I was racing. It was a hard move, but it was fair."

Nico shook his head. "Fair? You pushed him out. You could have caused a serious accident."

Y/N's eyes flashed with anger. "So? He's done the same thing to me countless times. He's pushed me off the track, he's ruined my races. Now, it's my turn."

Nico sighed, a look of frustration crossing his face. "That's not the point, Y/N. You're better than that. You don't need to stoop to his level."

Y/N scoffed. "Don't lecture me about sportsmanship, Nico. You and Lewis were the masters of dirty tactics. You pushed each other to the brink, and sometimes, beyond."

Nico's face turned a shade of crimson. "But that's different," he stammered, his voice barely audible. "We were… we were different."

Y/N scoffed, her eyes narrowing. "Different how? You were two drivers, fighting for the same goal. And you both crossed lines, just like I did today."

Nico was speechless. He couldn't deny the truth in her words. He and Lewis had engaged in their fair share of ruthless tactics, pushing the boundaries of fair play.

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes. "You guys did this to each other," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You ruined your friendship, all for the sake of winning. And now, you're judging me for doing the same thing?"

Nico reached out to comfort her, but Y/N pulled away. "Leave me alone," she muttered, wiping away her tears.

She turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing in the fading light. Nico watched her go, a wave of guilt washing over him. He had judged her harshly, forgetting the pain and frustration that had fueled her actions.

As he sat there, alone with his thoughts, he realized that perhaps he and Lewis were not so different after all. They were both victims of the cutthroat world of Formula 1, trapped in a cycle of rivalry and revenge.

time skip

Y/N hesitantly opened her phone, dreading the onslaught of notifications. As she scrolled through her social media feeds, her heart sank. The once celebratory comments had turned into a torrent of hate and vitriol.

Twitter:

"Y/N Rosberg? More like Y/N Reckless! Disgraceful display of sportsmanship. #Shameful"

"Unbelievable! How could she do that to Lewis? She's a disgrace to the sport. #Disappointed"

"Y/N should be banned! That was a dangerous and reckless move. #DangerousDriver"

Instagram:

Comment 1: "What a dirty move! I'm so disappointed in Y/N. She's ruined her reputation."

Comment 2: "Y/N should be ashamed of herself. She's a disgrace to women in motorsport."

Comment 3: "Lewis deserved better. Y/N should be get a penalty for that."

Y/N's eyes scanned the hateful comments, a wave of nausea washing over her. The once-celebrated victory now tasted bitter, tainted by the backlash. She scrolled through more comments, each one more hurtful than the last.

"She's just like her brother. Always causing trouble."

"Another Rosberg ruining the sport."

"She should be ashamed of herself. A disgrace to the sport."

The comments were relentless, each one a stinging rebuke. Y/N felt a lump forming in her throat, tears threatening to spill over. She had never imagined the backlash would be so intense. She had pushed the boundaries, yes, but she had never intended to cause harm.

The weight of the online hate was crushing. She felt isolated, misunderstood, and alone. As she scrolled through the endless stream of negativity, she couldn't help but wonder if she had made a mistake.

time skip

The paddock was tense, the air thick with unspoken words. Y/N, her spirit dampened by the online vitriol, moved through the crowd, her gaze fixed on the ground. She spotted Lewis sitting alone at a table, his expression grim.

Taking a deep breath, she approached him, a tentative smile on her face. "Lewis," she began, "I wanted to talk to you about the other day."

Lewis barely acknowledged her presence, his eyes glued to his phone. "What is it, Y/N?" he asked, his tone devoid of warmth.

"I'm sorry about what happened," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I didn't mean to cause any harm."

Lewis raised an eyebrow, a dismissive look in his eyes. "Oh, really? Because that looked pretty intentional to me."

Y/N's heart sank. She had hoped to apologize, to bridge the gap between them, but his coldness was a harsh reality check.

"I was just trying to win," she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

"At any cost?" Lewis retorted, his voice sharp. "That's not how we do things."

Y/N felt a wave of frustration wash over her. She had tried to reach out, to apologize, but he was determined to hold onto his anger. With a heavy sigh, she turned away, defeated.

Meanwhile, Max, sensing the tension, approached Y/N, his arm draped casually around her shoulder. "Hey, Y/N, you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "Don't let those online trolls get to you."

Y/N forced a smile. "I'm fine, Max. Just a bit tired."

"You sure about that?" Max raised an eyebrow. "You look like you could use a hug."

Y/N chuckled, but her eyes betrayed her sadness. "Thanks, Max. I appreciate it."

Max nodded, his gaze shifting to Lewis, who was deep in conversation with Charles Leclerc. "Don't worry about him," Max whispered to Y/N. "He's just being a drama queen."

Y/N smiled weakly, but the pain in her heart persisted. She couldn't understand why Lewis was being so hostile. They had been friends once, hadn't they?

The days that followed were a blur of awkward encounters and tense interactions. Lewis avoided Y/N whenever possible, his cold demeanor a stark contrast to his usual charm. Y/N, meanwhile, struggled to cope with the public backlash and the strain on her friendship with Lewis.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice session, Y/N found herself alone in the team garage. She was lost in thought, her mind replaying the events of the past few days.

Suddenly, a voice interrupted her reverie. "You know, you could try apologizing," Lewis said, his voice barely a whisper.

Y/N looked up, surprised. "I already did," she replied, her voice tight.

Lewis shook his head. "No, not like that. Not with that attitude. You need to mean it."

Y/N's eyes widened. "What do you want me to do? Get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness?"

Lewis sighed, his frustration evident. "No, just… just own up to it. Admit that you went too far."

Y/N stared at him for a long moment, then turned away. "I'm not going to apologize for winning," she said, her voice firm. "I did what I had to do."

With that, she walked away, leaving Lewis alone with his thoughts. He knew he had pushed her too far, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she had crossed a line. The tension between them was palpable, a silent battle raging beneath the surface.

taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 , @xoscar03 , @torossosebs , @jajouska , @lindsayjoy444 , @barcelonaloverf1life , @charli123456789, @heyheyheyggg

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

leave a like! leave a comment! reblogs are appreciated!

[letmerideitchris]

𐬺𝐕𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐𐬺

summary: Chris matt and nick get a new videographer, she is funny, smart and pretty, basically everything Chris could ever want in a girl. Chris finds it impossible to not fall for her…

Warnings: angst, yelling, cursing, mentions of killing (in a joking way)

Wc: 1009

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

“Chris would you like to tell us what the fuck we just walked in on?” matt says sternly

Y/n had previously left the house out of embarrassment to what nick and matt had walked into.

“does anyone know where some bleach is? My eyes need some” nick says looking around

“guys you're being dramatic, I'm sorry i couldn’t resist, she’s everything i have ever wanted” chris says as he looks down at the floor

“that is the least of our problems right now, shes meant to be coming over tomorrow to film a vlog for us, that is going to be so awkward thanks to you dick face” nick says hitting chris’ shoulder

“yeah chris, you need to sort it out and apologize because you are runing it for us”

“but I'm not sorry and i am quite looking forward to seeing her tomorrow even though it will be awkward…” Chris says slightly smiling at the thought of her

“im not sure if shes looking forward to seeing you, she just ran away” matt says looking at the open front door y/n previously left through.

“chris you make me want to kill you, is it hard being this dumb?”

“guys can you show some sort of sympathy? Like imagine the girl of your dreams is actually interested in you and then your brothers walk in on you fucking and she runs out of embarrassment?” chris says

“No i actually cannot imagine that i am gay if you forgot dumb shit” nick says in a duh tone

“you guys are ridiculous” chris mumbles annoyed as he makes his way downstairs to his bedroom.

The next morning chris is laying in bed half asleep, wishing she was beside him. But hes quickly taken out of his trance when he hears the doorbell, the sound he was dreading yesterday but wishing upon now.

“i’ll get it!” matt yells from upstairs

But when he turns to the door chris is already unlocking it

Nick is sitting on the couch with an unamused face, when matt looks over at him “look at this desperate dickhead”

“hes never gonna learn, fuck sake” nick eyerolls

When chris opens the door, y/n is taken aback by his face. y/n looks down at the floor and says quietly “oh… hi chris”

chris’ smile quickly fades as he hears her tone and realizes his excitement isn't mutual.

“hi y/n, come upstairs, can I get you a water or?-”

“uh no i should be good..thanks..”

Chris takes a seat on the couch wondering why y/n is acting so weird towards him. What did he do wrong? Did he say something bad?

The boys all give y/n a hug greeting her, besides chris.

“matt would you mind getting me some water? I’m really thirsty?” y/n says looking at matt

Chris looks over at her with a confused look across his face

“yeah of course, nick can you come with me, i think these two need to talk it out..” matt lowers his tone at the end so only nick can hear his last comment

Chris and y/n are both sitting on opposite sides of the couch looking at each other waiting for one to speak up.

“y/n, whats wrong?” chris speaks up

“have a think chris, have a think.”

Chris is using all of his brain and is trying to peice together what could be wrong. And then something clicks in his mind and realizes what has happened. He looks up with a concerned look on his face

“is this about yesterday, y/n? If it is im really sor-”

y/n cuts him off “chris do you not realize what we did and how this will affect our relationship and my job”

Chris is shocked by what she said “wait so your saying you regret what we did? I-I really thought we had something, something that would last, something you would care about” he says as he raises his voice and stands up angrily from the couch.

“no i don't regret it, that's not what I'm saying. I just think we should've been more careful or waited a bit longer” y/n says avoiding eye contact

“so you do regret it huh?” he starts to walk off then she grabs him by the arm

“no, chris just calm down i am not done-”

“well i sure am, get out of my house please”

y/n opens her purse quxckly, chris is standing there waiting for something that could save this relationship but instead it is something that will change their lives forever.

y/n slides a positive pregnancy test along the coffee table.

“as i was saying, we should've been more careful, should've waited longer, not saying i regret it.” she says shaking with tears forming on her waterline

She closes her purse, gets up, looks into the kitchen to see matt and nick both staring in such a state of shock. Tears start rolling down her face as she looks back at chris’ guilty and worried face. She wipes her tears and continues to leave.

The door slams

“i could choke you to death right now chris, not much is stopping me” nick says furiously as he follows y/n out of the house

Chris is still standing there in disbelief staring at that positive test.

“chris, ill get you some water, all you can do right now is sit down and try and relax yourself. Don't text anyone and don't listen to what nick is saying even though he is right, i know you would be really stressed right now and nothing he has to say will help.” matt says patting chris on the back gently

chris sits down on the couch shaking with tears falling down his face onto his pants, he can't seem to look away from the test. Regret and guilt clouds his mind and all he is thinking about is y/n.

“m-matt” chris stutters, matt turns back around to face chris, you can tell even matt is stressed out

“i, i am going to be a d - dad”

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @riggysworld @chrissturnsss @sophand4n4

@chrispycremedonut

[notiddygothgf]

15. An Affair

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ I'm not going home with you. ❞

★ c.w.: domestic violence, confessions (bad ones)

★ a/n: HEY GUYSSSS!! its my day off today and instead of studying I wanted to put somethin' out for my girlies. im ngl, this chapter was so hard to write, but the ending was so worth it. Y'all are gonna have such a love/hate relationship w me after this. Anyway! I hope yall enjoy! Keep those wonderful comments coming! I hope you have all been well. If not, I hope this chapter cheers you up (it prob. wont.)

★ w.c: .5.8k

shameless ; chapter index

PUBLIC SAFETY ALERT:|  Your presence has been requested at Public Safety Tokyo HQ. A mission is being assigned to you.

Seen

The morning air hung thick around the quiet school grounds, carrying a chill that made your skin prickle. Each step forward felt measured, heavy, as you walked alongside your husband, the space between you humming with unspoken tension. He walked with his hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze darting toward you now and then, searching for an opening to break the silence. But you kept your eyes fixed on the road ahead, determined to keep this quiet, to push down the remnants of last night’s argument until you could forget it entirely. Or at least pretend to.

Finally, he spoke, voice soft and wary. “About last night…” He trailed off, pausing to clear his throat as if that might help the words come more easily. “I didn’t mean for things to… go that way. I was just worried. I shouldn’t have…” He let out a short, strained breath, his gaze fixed on the ground.

The apology hung in the air between you, awkward, unfinished, and you felt it tug at something inside you—a part of you that almost wanted to forgive him. Almost.

But the way he’d looked at you, the words he’d said, were still fresh, lingering like a bruise that hadn’t fully healed. A quiet, distrustful part of him had surfaced last night, and even though he seemed sorry now, that part of him was still there, waiting.

You swallowed, keeping your voice steady, measured. “Can we just… do this job?” Your words were a plea wrapped in exhaustion, and you could feel his shoulders slump, the small fight in him deflating in one slow exhale.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Sure.”

The building finally came into view, its pale brick walls rising against the sky like an empty, blank stare. Division 4 waited by the entrance, their expressions serious, their stances taut with quiet anticipation. Aki stood slightly off to the side, his posture rigid, arms folded, his gaze fixed on the school’s shadowed entrance. And even in the cool, gray light, you found him instantly, drawn to that familiar, unshakable steadiness.

You caught his eye, and for a fleeting moment, the tension in your chest eased, his gaze steadying you like an anchor. There was a question in his eyes, something soft and understanding, though it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He held your gaze just a beat too long, as if reluctant to let it go, and you felt a quiet understanding settle between you.

“Good morning!” Himeno’s voice sliced through the tension, her warm smile easing the air around you all as she approached. She waved, the familiar glow in her eyes brightening her face. “Glad to see you’re here.”

Your husband shifted beside you, his face flickering with something unreadable as his eyes lingered on Aki before he turned to Himeno, offering her a small nod. Then, as if reminding himself of his role, he extended a hand toward Aki, his expression carefully neutral, voice formal. “Captain Hayakawa.”

Aki’s gaze drifted to the offered handshake, his expression barely shifting. There was a flicker of something—disdain, perhaps, or maybe just indifference. He didn’t bother to hide it. Instead, he straightened, his face a mask of calm detachment as he looked toward the group. 

“Let’s head in,” he said smoothly, his tone level, almost too controlled. His eyes flicked back to you and your husband, impassive. “You’re late.”

Himeno’s gaze flickered from you to Aki, a faint smile tugging at her lips, as if she could read the silent tension, though she chose not to comment. She was sharp that way, perceptive to the smallest changes, though she kept her observations to herself, a quiet ally in the awkwardness.

He’s so hot when he plays captain.

Your husband’s hand dropped back to his side, his face momentarily tightening before he carefully masked it, his expression becoming a careful blankness. He took a step back, composing himself as he fell into line behind you, saying nothing.

Aki kept his gaze forward, ignoring the unspoken friction that lingered in the air, his posture steady, unbothered. But you could sense the tension simmering just beneath the surface, in the slight shift of his shoulders, in the way he held his jaw just a bit too tight.

As the group began moving toward the building, you found yourself drawn beside Aki, his presence a steadying force that you clung to, even as you kept a careful distance. The two of you fell into step, shoulders almost brushing, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him despite the cold around you. He kept his eyes forward, his expression giving nothing away, but the quiet understanding between you both was enough.

Your husband walked behind you now, his steps deliberate, and though he said nothing, you could feel the weight of his gaze flickering between you and Aki. There was a guardedness in his posture, a watchfulness that lingered in the space between you all, like he was waiting for something to confirm whatever suspicions still lingered in his mind.

The school loomed closer, its windows dark, reflecting the dull gray sky back at you, and as you approached, a strange, unsettling stillness settled over the group. The building seemed to watch you all with an empty, silent gaze, as if daring you to step inside, to disturb whatever lay waiting in its shadows.

The building swallowed you up the moment you stepped inside, closing in around the group like a mouth with bated breath. Aki’s flashlight flicked on, cutting through the darkness in a narrow beam that skimmed over half-open lockers and scattered shoes left behind in haste. Stray papers littered the ground, pages from abandoned notebooks catching the flashlight’s glow, rustling softly with each step, as if stirred to life by your passing.

You stayed close to Aki, moving at his side, careful not to draw too near but finding comfort in his steady, unwavering pace. Beside him, you could let your own unease simmer beneath the surface, half-hidden, masked by his calm. Every now and then, he shifted the flashlight to scan further down the hall, his expression as unreadable as ever, and yet, in the quiet, a tension simmered. He was prepared, senses sharpened; you knew by the way his shoulder brushed yours in the narrow passage, felt by the slightest tightening of his grip on the flashlight.

Behind you, your husband walked a few steps back, his silence no less present. He didn’t have to say anything for you to feel the way he observed, his eyes moving between you and Aki with a cautious deliberation. The weight of his gaze lingered on the spaces between you, where he seemed to search for something neither spoken nor visible, yet unmistakable.

The halls echoed with your footfalls and the quiet hum of distant lights that hadn’t yet died out completely. The building had the eerie feel of a place left suddenly, like whoever had been here had simply vanished mid-motion. The lockers were open, contents strewn about as if someone had been in too much of a rush to close them properly. Shoes and scattered backpacks lined the floor, small details that added an unsettling familiarity to the strangeness around you. It felt like walking through a memory someone had tried to erase.

“This place is giving me the creeps,” Himeno whispered, her voice breaking through the quiet like the flutter of a bird’s wings. She kept close to Denji, her eyes darting around, and he gave a tight grin, though his shoulders were wound tense, his hand twitching at his side.

Aki didn’t respond, just kept his eyes forward, his flashlight sweeping the walls and floor as he led you through the darkened hallways. The silence settled back over the group, thickening as you continued deeper into the building. You reached the cafeteria, its entrance looming before you like the mouth of a cavern. Aki stepped over a fallen backpack just inside, his flashlight catching on the glint of scattered utensils and trays, and Denji followed close behind, moving with a quiet intensity that belied his usual carelessness. He lingered near the doorway, casting a quick glance at Aki before slipping further inside, putting a bit of distance between them as though seeking his own sense of direction, away from Aki’s unspoken authority.

You stepped in as well, your heart beating faster as the room stretched before you in a dim, empty sprawl. Anxiety simmered in your chest, the stillness of the place pressing down harder with each step. It was as if something waited just beyond the edges of the flashlight’s reach, lurking in the corners, lying in wait. You forced yourself to take a steady breath, though the question lingered, unsettling in its quiet persistence: Why hadn’t anything happened yet?

Then, Aki’s voice, low but clear, cut through the quiet. “Do you hear that?”

You stopped, tilting your head to listen. “What?” you whispered, your eyes scanning the dim shadows around you.

“There’s a… ticking sound,” he replied, his brow furrowing as he tilted the flashlight upward, his gaze following the beam to scan the high, shadowed ceiling.

Himeno stepped forward, moving cautiously, her eyes narrowing as she glanced around the room. “I don’t see anything,” she murmured, her tone wavering.

Aki’s attention sharpened, and he moved deeper into the room, his flashlight focusing on the rows of overturned tables and chairs, like soldiers abandoned mid-march. He stopped in front of an industrial oven, the source of the faint ticking that had drawn his attention. He bent down, inspecting it closely before he turned back to you all, his voice tense. “Stand back,” he ordered, gesturing for everyone to move away as he prepared to open it.

The group took a few steps back, a collective breath held as Aki swung the oven door open. The flashlight revealed only empty racks and dust, nothing to suggest any real danger, and yet the ticking persisted, faint but insistent.

Aki straightened, glancing back toward you all with a small shake of his head. “Nothing in there.”

The moment he spoke, a low rumble began, a tremor that sent vibrations through the floor. You looked to him, worry blooming as he took a step backward, his attention still on the others as if to reassure you all—but before he could say a word, the wall behind him burst open with a deafening crack.

Dust and debris exploded into the air, and Aki was thrown forward, his body slammed by a wave of rubble that crashed over him. He fell hard, hitting the ground as chunks of concrete and metal scattered around him. You staggered back, your breath catching as the sound of the explosion reverberated in your ears, muffling everything but the thundering of your own heartbeat.

Your ears were ringing, your head was throbbing, yet all you could think was – Aki.

The moment you saw him lying there, still and silent, everything around you faded into a muted blur. A distant voice, your husband’s, drifted from behind you, sounding strained and far away. 

“I’m here,” he called out, steady but cautious, like he was trying to anchor you, but it barely registered. 

The sight of Aki’s limp body, his chest unmoving, was all you could see. You moved past everyone—blind to the dust, the debris, and even the sharp sting in your own side—your legs carrying you to him without thought.

“Aki!” The shout tore from your throat before you could stop it, raw with a panic you couldn’t hold back. You rushed forward, your hands trembling as you stumbled over the debris, your focus locked on Aki’s crumpled form amid the settling dust – professional names be damned.

Dropping to your knees beside him, you reached out, cradling his head in your lap, your hands trembling as you gently lifted his face toward yours. Your fingers found their way to his cheeks, then to his brow, tracing the slight furrow still etched into it, as though he had fought to stay conscious even until the last moment. He was still warm, but his skin was too pale. It was as if the entire world had come to a halt around you. Somewhere behind, you could sense the others standing in stunned silence, unmoving. How could they just stand there, watching? The love of your life could be slipping away, and they were frozen.

Love of my life…

The thought stopped you cold, a rush of fear and realization so profound it almost hurt. Had it really taken you that long to realize it?

“He’s alive,” you whispered, your voice hoarse, so quiet you could hardly recognize it as your own.

From the corner of your eye, you saw your husband watching, his face tense but unreadable, taking in the scene with a look of guarded apprehension. He didn’t say anything, though you felt his gaze linger as you checked Aki’s pulse, letting yourself believe, even if for a moment, that everything might be okay.

Himeno limped toward you, her face pale and streaked with dust, though her eyes were focused. Denji hovered nearby, his gaze shifting nervously between Aki and the rest of the room, his usual bravado strangely absent.

A slow, mocking laugh echoed through the darkness, slicing through the tension. The sound sent a chill down your spine, and Himeno’s gaze snapped toward the source, her mouth twisting into a grimace. “Shit. He’s here,” she muttered, glancing down at you. “You’re bleeding.”

You blinked, looking down at your side, only just noticing the thick patch of blood soaking through your shirt. A sharp pain throbbed beneath your ribs, and you inhaled unsteadily, trying to keep your focus. You had been so concerned with Aki, you hadn’t noticed that a stray piece of metal from the inside of the wall had embedded itself into your side.

“He’s barely breathing,” you said, fighting to keep your voice steady. “We have to call for help.”

Your ears were ringing, the edges of the room swimming slightly as adrenaline surged and ebbed in rapid waves. Himeno looked at you, her expression torn, her face bruised and her breathing labored. But then she nodded, her decision clear. “Call for help,” she instructed firmly. “You stay with him and keep checking his pulse until they arrive. The rest of you,” she turned to Denji and your husband, “are coming with me. Let’s put this bastard down.”

Nodding, you reached for Aki’s walkie-talkie, your fingers slipping slightly as you clutched the radio and pressed the call button. Your voice cracked as you spoke. “This is… this is urgent. Aki’s down. He’s unconscious, barely breathing. He’s bleeding out—we need immediate backup.”

The rest of the group slipped away – Your husband cast you one final glance before following suit, leaving you and your lover alone with nothing but the deafening silence to accompany you.

The silence that followed felt endless, punctuated only by the faint static from the walkie-talkie and Aki’s faint, irregular breaths. You swallowed, trying to keep your focus even as your hands began to shake.

“Stay with me, Aki,” you whispered, brushing a lock of hair from his face, your fingers lingering on his cheek, willing him to open his eyes, to just look at you. But he remained still, each shallow breath a reminder of how close you had come to losing him.

Fifteen minutes later—though it felt like hours—help arrived. Three officers rushed in, their faces taut with concern as they took in the scene. One of them, a man you vaguely recognized, gave you a solemn nod before crouching down beside you, reaching for Aki. His hands were gentle, but the thought of someone else touching him, moving him, felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

“We’ve got him now,” he said quietly, but when he reached out to lift Aki, a desperate surge of protectiveness made you tighten your hold.

“No—” The word left your lips before you could stop it, raw and laced with panic. But they gently pried him from your arms, and the separation felt like a wound opening wide, a visceral ache that made it hard to breathe.

You clutched your bleeding side, your vision blurring as you tried to steady yourself. A thick, aching pain throbbed in your chest as you watched them begin to lift him, every instinct screaming to stay by his side. You had to follow. You had to make sure he would be okay.

“Aiko,” one of the officers said, his voice firm yet gentle, nodding toward the door. “Take them outside.”

He moved beside Aki, lifting him carefully, and without another word, he threw one of Aki’s arms over his shoulder, giving you a brief, determined glance. “Come on. Grab his other side.”

Wordlessly, you nodded, stepping forward and slipping your arm around Aki’s waist, bracing him as you lifted his other arm over your shoulder. The weight of him pressed against you, grounding you, and you forced yourself to keep moving, even as every step felt like a jagged edge digging deeper into your side.

With each step toward the exit, the fresh air grew closer, yet the world felt hazy, every breath heavy with worry and the knowledge that nothing would ever feel certain until he opened his eyes again.

As you moved to lean over, easing Aki into the seat beside you, a sharp, searing pain suddenly tore up your side, fierce enough to make you gasp. Your hand slipped, and you nearly dropped him, his weight sagging as you stumbled back, struggling to catch your breath. It took everything you had to hold steady, to keep your balance, gritting your teeth as you fought to ignore the blooming heat spreading across your ribs.

Aiko, his face furrowing with concern, caught sight of the blood soaking through your shirt. “Shit, are you bleeding?” he asked, eyes widening as he looked from you to the deep red stain.

The pain was settling into something fierce and relentless, throbbing with each shallow breath you took. You nodded, barely able to speak through the tightness in your chest, feeling the sting pulse along every nerve.

Without hesitation, Aiko steadied Aki, shifting his weight to settle him securely into the back seat of the car. Then he turned to you, his tone calm but firm as he took in your paling face and shaking hands. “We’re taking you to the hospital too. Both of you,” he said, cutting off any protest before you could muster one. “Get in the car. Other side.”

The finality in his voice made it clear there was no room for argument, and even if you wanted to push back, your strength was dwindling. You bit down against the pain, making your way around to the other side, sliding in opposite Aki. The weight of the seat seemed to press into your side, aggravating the wound as you struggled to find a comfortable position. You glanced over at Aki, his face still pale, breaths shallow as he lay slumped against the seat.

As the car started up, you shifted carefully, reaching over to lay his head in your lap. The feel of him there—fragile, the warmth of his skin faint against your touch—steadied you. Your fingers brushed over his hair, gentle and soothing, a small comfort as you tried to hold back the trembling in your hands.

Aiko turned to the driver. “Take them both straight to the hospital, now.”

The engine rumbled to life, and the car jolted forward, pulling you away from the scene, the night blurring past as the streetlights flickered over you in a stream of dim light. You adjusted yourself slowly, angling your body to support Aki’s head in your lap without disturbing your wound, even as the pain persisted, gnawing with every bump and turn. But you didn’t care; all that mattered was keeping him close, reassuring yourself with each faint breath he took, each barely-there rise and fall of his chest.

You focused on his face, his closed eyes and furrowed brows, his features softened in unconsciousness, untouched by his usual sharpness and guarded restraint. It was almost peaceful—if not for the bruises beginning to form along his cheek, the small streaks of blood that marred his skin. You reached up, wiping away a smudge of dust from his forehead, the simple act anchoring you to the moment, grounding you in the steady silence of the drive.

The pain in your side was starting to numb, fading into a distant ache as the adrenaline dulled your senses. But the reality of it all—the weight of what had happened, the fear that had gripped you—settled heavily over you like a thick fog, refusing to lift. You leaned back, eyes never leaving Aki’s face, your hand resting gently on his shoulder as the car carried you both toward the hospital, away from the shadows of that place.

In the quiet, with the hum of the engine and the soft darkness around you, it was just the two of you, a fragile peace holding steady as you waited for help, the tension of the night still lingering but softened by the small, steady assurance of his presence in your lap, the nauseating fear as you whispered again, 

“Stay with me, Aki.”

The moment you had been cleared to leave the hospital some three or four hours later, you found out what room Aki was staying in and rushed right over. There he was – stable, albeit not in very good shape. He was still asleep (which the attending nurse had said something about earlier, something along the lines of a medically-induced sleep). His skin was a little more colorful now, but still pale. He was donning the same hospital gown you had been wearing a few hours earlier, hair down out of it’s typical style and splayed out over the pillow. His vitals were being monitored on a screen on the other side of his hospital bed – an IV dripped syrupy-looking medicine into his veins.

He was achingly beautiful, even now. You stood off to the side of his bed, arms crossed nervously over your chest, fingers being chewed by your teeth. You didn’t know how long you had been waiting there – hell, you hadn’t even checked your phone since you had been discharged.

A pit in your stomach made it impossible to eat, even if you had certainly worked up quite the appetite. You didn’t want to leave his bedside, even for a moment. Any moment, he could slip away – slip through your fingertips and leave you for good (even if the doctors told you he was stable).

You stood at Aki’s bedside, rooted in place, the room spinning slowly around you as the weight of your own feelings sank in, cold and unstoppable. You’d been forced to confront it back there in the rubble, but now, with him lying so still before you, there was no denying it. Aki was the love of your life. 

The realization hit you again like a wave crashing over your head, pulling you under. He was it—the person you’d been circling, moving toward all this time without even knowing it. And if you lost him, you didn’t know how you’d survive it. The thought alone was enough to make the air feel thin, the walls closing in as you struggled to catch a full breath.

Aki looked almost serene under the fluorescent hospital lights, his face softened and bare, no longer hidden behind his usual quiet guard. His hair lay messily across the pillow, spilling across his forehead, casting delicate shadows over his cheeks. He looked painfully beautiful, achingly real in a way that left you feeling raw, vulnerable. And you knew then that you had been clinging to him, maybe all along, without even realizing it. There was something in his presence that grounded you, something you couldn’t name, but now that you had it, you didn’t know how you’d live without it. Without him.

A hollow ache twisted in your stomach, and you crossed your arms tightly over your chest, as if you could keep yourself from unraveling entirely. What if you’d lost him before you ever had the chance to tell him—before he knew what he meant to you? The thought stabbed at you, fierce and unrelenting. You tried to imagine a world where he wasn’t here, where he’d slipped away in those moments of silence and chaos, and the thought alone felt like stepping into an endless void, cold and unforgiving. 

What would you do if he left, if he was gone? How would you wake up each morning knowing he wasn’t there, wasn’t just a few steps away, grounding you in the only way he knew how—without even trying?

You swallowed hard, biting down against the well of emotions, feeling the sting of it all build in your throat. Your fingers trembled, itching to reach out, to grasp his hand, to feel the pulse of life beneath his skin. But you couldn’t bear it—couldn’t bear to feel the fragility of him, couldn’t stand the thought of his warmth fading, of his presence slipping away from you forever.

It was the one thing you couldn’t lose. Not him. 

And as you stood there, heart pounding, head spinning, you swore that if he woke up, you’d find a way to make him understand that—how much he meant to you, how deeply he had become a part of you. How he was the only one who ever truly had loved you.

A knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts. Without waiting for an answer, the door slid open, and in stepped Tanimoto, brown eyes somber like he knew he was the last person you wanted to see.

You looked at him, and suddenly, your mouth ran dry. What more was there to say? One look into his eyes, and you knew there was no need to clarify.

He understood, now. Everything.

He cleared his throat, “Hey.”

“Hey,” You said back, voice hoarse from all of the crying you had done before he came, from shouting Aki’s name the moment that wall blew up. “How’d the mission go?”

It was then that you realized – you couldn’t possibly have been less concerned with his well being on the mission since he had left you there with Aki in your arms, too preoccupied with the state of your lover to care.

“It went alright,” He sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He didn’t dare to move any closer, standing a considerable distance away from you, like he wasn’t sure whether or not approaching you would be the best idea. “It wound up being the school lunch devil, or some shit like that. A real small fry, but he wound up having a piece of the gun devil’s flesh. That would explain the…” He glanced over at Captain Hayakawa’s sleeping form, wincing at his condition, “Explosion.”

There was a pause. A long, drawn out silence, during which neither of you made eye contact. Your husband was the first one to breach it.

“Look, I was going to apologize about what I said last night, but… after today– after what I saw back there, I… I’ve been thinking of what I’d say to you,” He finally – finally – approached the elephant in the room, avoiding your gaze the entire time (not that it left Aki). He paused again to release a trembling breath. “Am I… mistaken? About you and him?”

Your eyes began to water before you knew it. It was as if everything from the past few hours – past few days had finally come crashing down on you. In one heart-aching moment, the world you had spent all of your time building up – the lies, all of it – came to a standstill. 

And it was then that you realized you didn’t have the strength to lie to him anymore. Not when the love of your life was sitting right there.

So you swallowed the lump in your throat, taking a moment to build up the icy resolve you desperately needed before you answered slowly.

 “No. You’re not mistaken,” You breathed. “I’m his mistress. I’m having an affair.”

And there it was.

The words hung in the air, heavy and irreversible, cutting through the sterile quiet of the hospital room. You could see the impact ripple across his face, a flicker of pain breaking through his carefully maintained calm before he composed himself again, pressing his tongue into his cheek as he nodded, slow and mechanical. The look in his eyes sharpened, darkening to something you could hardly recognize, and a tremor of fear crawled up your spine.

You had expected this moment to feel like some kind of release, like pulling off a bandage and letting the wound breathe. But as you looked at him, at the silent fury and restrained hurt carved into his features, a different kind of fear settled over you—one that made your body tense, instinctively bracing for whatever he might do next.

You couldn’t stop the shaking. It started in your hands, then moved through your shoulders, until your whole body felt unsteady, as if it could collapse under the weight of what you’d just admitted. The question pressed itself into your mind, unbidden: would he hit you? Here, in this sterile, fluorescent-lit space with Aki lying beside you? It felt like a violation, the idea of violence in a place that was supposed to be safe, where people came to heal. But even as the thought crossed your mind, you knew it wasn’t impossible.

To your shock, though, he didn’t raise a hand. He only let out a slow, exhausted breath, his shoulders slumping, as though the anger was something that would consume him from within rather than burst out. "I knew it," he muttered, his voice tight and shaking. He swallowed hard, but there was no break, no moment of hesitation as he spoke again. “I knew it from the start, but I thought—” He cut himself off, staring at you with that cold, assessing gaze that felt like he was searching for any sign of regret, any hint that you cared about what this was doing to him. “You don’t even sound the least bit sorry about it, do you?”

There it was—a blow sharper than any slap or strike, his words digging in deep, meant to hurt. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came, just a hollow, empty ache that left you frozen. Because the truth was, no matter how you tried to twist it, he was right. You weren’t sorry. Not about loving Aki, not about the way you felt when you looked at him, even lying in a hospital bed, his face softened and beautiful in the stark light.

“I’m not. I don’t regret it,” You retorted, a little bolder, now that the cat was finally out of the bag. What more was there to lose? Straightening your shoulders, you added, “We’re in love.”

He glanced at Aki. A cold, humorless laugh left his lips. When he glanced back at you, there wasn’t even an ounce of affection for you – all that was left was hatred, the same hatred you felt for him.

Before you could part your lips to speak again, he was craning his hand back – then there was a familiar sting.

He had hit you. Again.

And the worst part was that you couldn’t even bring yourself to oppose it. A moment of sickening silence passed before he spoke again.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” He spoke calmly, calculatedly, but you could hear the anger that seeped through his words. “This will be the last time you see him. You are to never speak of him again, or of this, and in exchange, I’ll let you keep the money and the house… and your life back at home.”

You swallowed, refusing to let him see the full extent of the hurt. It was nothing you hadn’t weathered before. And besides, the pain only sharpened the resolve forming inside you, stealing something that had felt soft, uncertain before. You weren’t backing down this time.

He watched you with an icy expression, something gleaming in his eyes that made you feel small, like a child being reprimanded, caught out in a lie you could barely understand. You gnawed the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to hold his gaze even as your eyes stung. He’d hit you, yes, but it was nothing compared to the ache in your chest, the hollowed-out feeling that had grown deeper with each beat of this tense, bitter silence.

His voice was sharp as he leaned in, his words clipped and venomous. “You can see him this one final time, and then it’s over,” he sneered. “That’s what you wanted, right? To see him?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and without thinking, you shot back, “Yes, but not to say goodbye.”

He stilled, his expression darkening, mouth twisting into something half incredulous, half enraged. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

But you’d started now, and there was no way to take it back. The words spilled out, gathering momentum as you spoke, voice steadying with each syllable. “Yes,” you repeated, stronger this time, voice firm. “But not to say goodbye.”

He looked at you like you were unhinged, something unfamiliar and unfathomable to him, and his lip curled with distaste. “You’re insane,” he spat, barely keeping his voice in check. “You’re hopeless. You’re married. It’s time to wake up and go home.”

The word married twisted inside you, feeling more like a chain than a bond, something cold and suffocating. And in that instant, as he spat the word out, you knew there was no future left here, no home in this hollow arrangement he was calling marriage.

And then, you dropped the second bomb of the evening.

“I’m not going home with you.” Your voice was quiet but clear, the words like iron. You felt something break free within you, some final tether to the life you’d been clinging to.

“I want a divorce.”

a/n: MUAHHHHHAHAHAAA!! OH MY GODDDD. it feels so good to finally write those words, you guys have NO idea. sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger, tho, you know i couldn't resist. To think that hours and hours and hours of my time have been poured into reaching THIS moment. Omg. We're reaching the climax of the story! Please let me know what you guys want to see happen before the story ends in the comments, or just drop by and say hello. I hope yall are as hyped for the next chapter as i am. Will y/n stand her ground? Or will she pussy out? Who knows (I do)? Stay tuned!!! Q of the Day: have you heard Rauw Alejandro's new album? (If not, what are you doing?)

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

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[fadelbison]

Thoughts on Joongdunk divorce and PR for branded pairs

so I read about the Joongdunk divorce era related ongoing drama and I have to say the thoughts I have are...perhaps very crazy but - sorry I have permanent brain damage from House MD - it fits. So take my opinion with grains of salt or better yet dont take it at all and just enjoy the conspiracy theory of it all. I'm fairly sure Joong is faking it and im pretty sure khaotung is...not faking whatever this 'I am going to fuck first against the nearest surface' vibe he has going on but he's certainly playing it up/into every moment like he's in a olympics style marathon thats just rail and be railed by your best friend.

Out of all the GMM men I follow, I follow Khaotung and Joong the closest and I would also say of the people I follow these two are the most likely to lie through their teeth about every single thing. And we already know that Joong has been helping FK but kind of particularly khaotung get more socmed savvy. So there is definitely some thread here to believe that PR discussions have occurred at least between Joong and FK but more likely between all four.

And the reason why I believe the Joongdunk divorce era is fake? It's becuase the thing between Joong and Est *was* real and Joong handled it completely differently. I had no idea it had happened even though I've been following Joong on IG through that entire time not until I went to twitter. I realized that whole thing was falling apart ONLY because people were talking about it. Joong's own posting was very staunchly business as usual.

And suddenly for his own branded pair right before a critical show who's success doesn't only affect him? What is he doing? Hanging neon signs that he's getting divorced. You're telling me to believe that Joong is middle school shading Dunk where even *I* could notice. Yes, I thought it was mega weird when he promo'd the THK release with pictures of him and FK but not Dunk. By this point, they *must* be aware of how people are talking about the Joongdunk divorce and what does Dunk do? Post a picture with FK but not Joong in the middle of it.

Really? Hours before the premiere?

See, the options here to me are:

1) Joong (and Dunk) has undergone a sudden and TOTAL personality change where he's suddenly inept at doing PR

or the crazier and yet to me the more likely scenario:

2) It's staged

And why would one do that? Why take the risk right before THK? To drum up engagement obviously. See we know that companies only care for numbers, these tweets and IG comments and likes are all going into some graphical format presentation in front of a guy who doesn't know or give two shits about what a divorce era is. So people talking about JD because their hobby is sniffing each other’s crotches or because they can’t stand each other is the exact same thing.

But how does Khaotung and his diabolical mind play into it, why did I bring him up in the beginning? We know that Fadel and Style start out as enemies…so like who's fucking playbook is that? Matching your promo to the dynamic of your characters? Who is the olympics gold winner in cosplaying your characters cosplaying as yourself?

I know people forget things week to week on socmed. But First and Khaotung were barely present during THK filming, soms were more or less only getting FK content from THK official twitter than First or Khaotung.

Khaotung was doing more fanservice with Joong than First at one point and he had a flurry of solo events during which soms were once more fractured between special treatment for Khaotung versus First [FK themselves were honeymooning in Busan and we got nothing other than the most brain damaging story about First scouring Busan for a hat Khaotung wanted and two posts of Khaotung ass up in their room that First must have taken].

Suddenly almost on the dot a month before THK release? They dialed the heat up without a reciprocal heat dialing up of Joongdunk. Summer Night definitely got in the way of that where Joong was giving Dunk a polite wide berth on IG liking and commenting on Summer Night stuff but not doing any CP related things.

So First and Khaotung suddenly act like they can't function without sampling each other's dicks thrice a day while Joong and Dunk stay business as usual. One pair taking the lion's share of THK hype is not a good thing for the other pair and genuinely I was like is JD really okay taking up second fiddle spot to FK for WEEKS. Lo and behold, days before THK all people can talk about is JD.

Anyway the following is an honest to god real photo of me writing this insane post. I just think things are going really well for Joong despite it all and I don't think it's on accident.

[vladdyissues]

Lately Ive seen some awful things about antis and haters making threats and getting artists banned from Tumblr and X. Im new to the Phandom and love pompep but Im scared i'll be targeted if I write and share pompep fics. How do you manage sharing your work so bravely?

Firstly, welcome to the Phandom—and especially Pompous Pep! I have a simple protocol for enjoying a drama-free Tumblr experience:

Preventative Action

1. Find your community. Follow other Pompep fans and supporters and reblog their things. Don't be afraid to leave nice tags; we love and welcome interactions :) You can also join the Pompep Discord server if you enjoy chatting (DM me for details).

2. Turn off anon asks. This will solve 99% of all potential problems, and you can turn it back on whenever you want. Antis are cowards who prefer to hide behind the mask of anonymity. They seldom have the courage to say something with their whole username.

3. Block the obvious haters. This is a big fandom, and at some point you're likely to come across people openly hating on pompep, either on their bio, pinned posts, or comments. Block them. For an added layer of protection, add their username to your Filtering Options.

4. Tag your work appropriately. When posting, make sure your work is tagged correctly (the #pompous pep tag is especially important) so people who like pompep can find it and those who want to avoid it can block the tag. Use Content Labels when applicable.

5. Try to avoid using the platonic tag (#badger cereal) and the romantic tag (#pompous pep) at the same time. Some fans are really touchy about this. I'm not, and I think there are legitimate cases where use of both is applicable, but if you want to minimize friction, just stick with one tag or the other.

If you're not sure which tag to use, ask yourself what your intentions are with your art or fic. Is the goal a romantic relationship? If so, use the pompep tag. If it's truly ambiguous and could be seen either way, use the platonic tag first. You can always add another tag like "okay to tag as pompep", just to let people know they can interpret it however they please.

Responsive Action

If the above guidelines aren't 100% effective, here's what you do:

1. Don't feed the trolls. If you receive any negative asks in your inbox, it's important to NOT engage with them. Delete them, ignore them, don't let them get to you. Antis thrive on attention, so let them starve. Eventually they'll move on when they realize they're not going to get a rise out of you.

The same goes for any negative comment left on your work. Just delete it, block the person who left it, and pretend it never happened.

These asks and comments may come in the form of questions. Example: "How can you ship Danny with Vlad? That's [insert gross accusation here]" Resist the urge to answer these questions. They are not made in good faith. This person just wants to start an argument.

2. Report any harassment. If by some chance you receive a seriously hateful ask, like threats of violence or abuse, take a screenshot for proof/safekeeping, then report the message and the user if they're not anonymous. If the ask is anonymous, use the meatball menu (•••) at the top right to report the message and block the anon.

Final Words

It takes time to develop a thick skin and Don't Give A Fuck attitude, but it can be done. You are a phan. You have every right to be here and enjoy this fandom in peace, just like everyone else. Anyone who believes in harassing others over silly things like which cartoon characters should be allowed to kiss clearly has nothing better to do with their life. The sooner you shut them out, the happier you'll be.

Regarding media: Artists attract a lot more negative attention than writers for reasons I won't get into right now, but if you're mainly a writer, you will enjoy a much quieter fandom experience. Wherever you post your stories—I recommend AO3; DM me if you need an invite—follow the same advice there as I've given here: make sure your work is tagged correctly; support your fellow Pompep fans by reading and commenting on their works, building that community; moderate comments if you're concerned about negativity; block and mute users if they give you any trouble, and you'll enjoy a much more positive fandom experience.

There is strength in community. When you start making new fandom friends, you'll feel a lot less lonely, and that will give you the confidence you need to really have a good time here.

Wishing you the best, anon!

[faiell]

yapping about fics and commenting

sorry to yap but work is boring today and tumblr isn't blocked on my work computer LOL

ok it's abt that post where the writer friend stopped writing because they weren't getting the comments/kudos they wanted.

i'm like. an overeager fandom person. like i cannot get into a fandom without wanting to meet new people and make friends. i love yapping about whatever silly gay idiots i'm hyperfixating over. i'm all about community, and sharing the joy of fandom, and all that fun positive stuff.

i don't post my art for stats but like. that means nothing coming from me tbh. i get stats. i can't accurately predict what would happen if i stopped getting notes on my art, but i would probably keep drawing and keep posting, just maybe less confidently, and less often. i recognize that stats make it much easier and while it’s not my primary motivation, it definitely motivates me to keep posting.

and yet. for years, i never commented on fic. i think i left kudos? and i saw posts like this all the time about how writers were so sad they didn't get comments. and i would feel super guilty about it all the time. but i still wouldn't do it! it sounds stupid, but i would feel pressured. if i liked a fic a lot, it felt even more difficult to comment, because i thought i would have to somehow give back to the author everything that fic gave to me. i wanted to craft the perfect comment that could perfectly encapsulate everything a fic made me feel. and that was way too much pressure so i would just not say anything.

when i got into drarry, i started reading a shit ton of fic. and i still wouldn't comment. i left maybe... 2 or 3 comments, maybe, i think. i can't remember. but i had a lot to say and i WANTED the writers to hear that i had read it and liked it. i just... didn't comment! u know what i did instead? i just fucking straight up DM'd writers on discord and started gushing to them that i liked their fic. somehow i was confident enough to do that, but writing a comment still felt like too much pressure. ?? i don't understand it either, but in my head it felt like a writing assignment, but when I was in DMs it felt more like a conversation and so there wasn't any pressure to make it "good"? idk!! it's very weird.

then i wrote and posted my first complete fic. just a oneshot, nothing special, and i was like. UNREASONABLY nervous about posting it. like. i am a confident person, okay? i was going to make a burner AO3 account and post it under a different name so nobody would know it was me, and then never mention it to anyone except MAYBE super close friends. i got talked out of doing that (thanks i feel a bit silly about considering that now). and then i received my first comment on it, which was basically a two-liner where someone said they liked it and thanked me for writing it.

and i was like. ??...?????? ???????? ...??!!! because i felt like... uncontainable glee? i was freakishly happy. the amount of serotonin those two sentences gave me was definitely unnatural.

is that healthy? idk. will it continue? idk. LOL. i hope so? but idk, some people said it wears off if you write/post for a while. but whatever, the fact that one little comment like that could make my entire day blew my mind. tbh i thought writers were just exaggerating when they said stuff like that.

ever since then i started leaving comments! that shit's easy! like what was i overthinking for? i'm such a fucking tryhard! all i gotta say is that i liked it, and even the bare minimum can bring lots of joy to someone.

so basically what im trying to say is that negative reinforcement doesn't do shit!! it just makes people feel bad about themselves. that post is nasty for guilt-tripping readers like that, and i bet you it's going to have the opposite effect (or no effect tbh).

YAPPING FINISHED. for now.

[scrumptiouskoalahottub]

☁️She's like a shot of espresso| Arthur Hill

[When you met Arthur he was known for having a temper, quick to react at any simple given moment, but since you've been dating his temperament has changed, he's more calm, laid back and less hot headed]

It was quiet in the flat, Arthur was out practising for his upcoming tour, you had nothing to do so you decided to make some dinner for when Arthur returned, you made a basic sausage casserole, it was a cold autumn night and you couldn't think of anything better than a hearty meal. You decide to live stream on TikTok as you cook, something to pass the time by; you engaged with your followers as you did Arthur's, some filtered through to ask about him and you responded, feeling like you'd made a family through the screen, someone asks a personal questions and you are reluctant to answer it.

"Do you think Arthur will ever stop being quick to anger, he seems hostile in recent his videos"

You study the comment with a dry throat, you knew he'd been having a stressful time and didn't want to discuss him personally, so you brush past it. The comments pops up again and you hesitate "I've seen the comment and I'm going to choose not to discuss my boyfriend in that context, he's a great person and I love him dearly, please don't comment it again" you smile, not wanting to sound rude. You leave the casserole to simmer as you say bye to the viewed and end the live. You set the table, waiting for Arthur to come back.

Just as you were stirring the food your phone rings "hey love, I'm on my way home, what're you doing?" He says softly "Im just stirring tea, you hungry?" You reply "you're an angel, it's just what I need right now, see you soon, love you" he says "love you too" you reply. The door turns and Arthur's home "that smells amazing" he says kicking his shoes off "how was practise" you say hugging him "it was good, I got a little bit annoyed because my throat was scratchy but it was a start" he says, the comments flickers in your mind as he mentions the word annoyed; he notices your face shift "what's wrong?" He says looking at you with concern "oh nothing, just a comment on my live from earlier" you say "what was it?" He furrows his brows "someone just mentioned that you were hostile in your videos and they asked me if I thought you'd ever not be angry" you say frowning, "oh.." he says, your heart shatters as he walks away from you "Arthur the content was filmed before we met, they will see how much you've changed" you say with reassurance "yeah, maybe" he says with a sigh. "Look forget the comment, let's eat and snuggle in bed with a movie" you say "i can't, I need to go somewhere" your brows furrow again "after food right? Where?" He gets up and walks to the corridor, slipping his shoes on "I just need..some air" he says walking out the door. Your face drops, you felt a wave of guilt as your stomach drops, you turn the food off and leave it on the stove.

You decide to text George incase he appeared at the flat.

You: "hey George, if Arthur comes by will you let me know, he's walked out and I'm not sure where he's got to"

George replies instantly: "yeah sure, is everything okay?"

You: "I'm not sure, I brought up a comment someone made about his temper and he just..left"

George: "that's strange, I'll let you know if he comes over"

You: "thanks George"

You pace round the flat, 20 minutes go by and you receive a text from George "he's here and he's stressed"

You heart sinks as you grab your keys, rushing out the door, you make your way over to the flat. You knock on the door as George opens it, you see a frantic Arthur pacing in the background "hey" you say sighing as you walk in the door.

"Artie" you say as he looks at you "y/n, please I just want to be alone right now" he says, you eyes become heavy "baby I'm on your side, let me in please" you say pleaing, George leaves you two to talk as he heads to his room "take all the time you need" he says as you smile at him; Arthur clutches at his knuckles, his anxiety was hitting a high, you rush over to him and grab him tight; he tries to resist but you squeeze him so hard if you squeezed any tighter you'd pop. When Arthur has the episodes, you use your body weight as an anxiety jacket, clutching him to shield him. "Please y/n" he grunts, wanting you to get off "Arthur you know I'm not hear to hurt you, just hug me back" you say he tries one more push but fails, he gives in and his arms lock around you. His body went from tense to soft almost immediately, his face sinks into your shoulder as he lets out a few sobs, you rub his head "let it out baby, let all the stress out onto me, I know you're trying your hardest and we're all here for you" your words wrap his heart like a bandaid, healing his ache. You both slide down to the floor as his emotions flood out of him, he was stressed, tired, run down and his brave facade had to fade at some point.

"I'm trying y/n, I really am" he sobs "I know baby, we all know, the comment was stupid and that's why I didn't answer it, you're making progress and the only people that matter are me and your friends" you see George poke around the corner as you wave him in, he kneels beside you both. "You're doing a great job pal, you've nothing to hold back when you're hear and you know that, y/n is in your corner 100% just like all of us" George says patting him on the back. You all have a small heart to heart as Arthur calms down, the stress radiates out of him with every little bit of release of words; communicating with you both about the stress. After a while you leave George, thanking him for letting you know he was here. You wave him goodbye as you go back to your flat, Arthur still puffy faced you link hands as you get to your home.

You walk inside and turn to him "I made casserole" you say smiling, he looks up at you with heavy eyes "Thankyou baby, I'm sorry" he looks at you with sad eyes "you have nothing to be sorry for artie, your feelings matter the same as anyone else's and I'm glad you could get it out, now let's eat and get tucked in bed, okay?" You say holding out your hand as he takes it with no hesitation. You finish your food as you place the bowls in the sink, you both scooch over to your room as you put on you pjs and put a Netflix series on. You sit up as Arthur burys his head in your chest. He lets out a big sigh of relief; "you okay?" You say stroking his curls "I'm fine now I've got you, you've really helped me throughout this and I can't Thankyou enough, even though I try to push you away" he says kissing your hand "I would never let you push me away, I know you don't mean to, we love you baby" you say kissing his forehead "you know, come to think of it, you're like my shot of espresso" he says sitting up, "how so?" You reply looking at him "you motivate me, put a kick in my step and make me feel..alive" he says cupping your cheek "oh artie" you say hugging him "I love you baby" you add on "I love you to pretty girl, thanks for being my rock" you smile into his shoulder.

-

🫶🏻

[drdemonprince]

hey, i love your blog & your advice & wanted to seek some of my own if thats okay. i made a friend recently who i think is great - we've been through very similar mental health struggles and we're both autistic and i've had many a time where he's told me really compassionate and helpful things, and he's very accepting of my struggles & seeks me out to hajg out, which a lot of people don't do - but i just can't shake the feeling that he's subtley making fun of me or insulting me? he definitely has a sense of humour prone to teasing, which i am very sensitive to, and i've expressed this to him... but it's just like, these little things, like when he wanted me to come to something with him but i have plans, he'll say something like 'dissapointed you didn't come with me...' or 'well if you were COOL you would have come with me' and it makes me very upset? like i said i've brought it up to him multiple times, but it seems like it's just his sense of humour, but it's beginning to seriously weigh on me. he's said he wants to do better by me and asked me what the line is but i feel like i don't know, sometimes our running jokes about me being a bottom are funny and then they suddenly get too much, and it feels like i'm reacting to the lightest comment (like when he comments that i'm late to things a lot or asks me if im going to be late) sometimes, i don't know how to express what i'm actually getting upset at. do you think there's anything i can do to make this situation better? i really don't want to lose him as a friend, and i want to work on my sensitivity, i just don't know if this is something i can work through

This is tough, but you're doing the important work of communicating about it. I'm a lot like your friend sometimes -- I notice patterns in how people cancel or turn up late to things, and then will state directly that I've observed it, or make predictions based on that pattern, which hurts people's feelings even when I mean it in a completely neutral or even affectionate way. Sometimes when intimacy between me and another person builds, I want to show that closeness by kind of play-fighting with them or making little sarcastic jokes or remarks, which can be wonderfullll when the energy is met, but it can also misfire and really hurt people. I'm putting this out there so that you and any one else reading can feel free to ask about this perspective. For me, it's not intended to be cruel, it's intended to show that I know and accept someone as they are, and find their traits endearing, and I LOVE when people playfully rib me too. it may also be an outgrowth of PDA and attachment trauma -- a way I can feel safe with getting closer is by pretending to keep a distance.

That said, I also HATE when someone guilts me for not being available for something, not wanting to do something, or not showing up. Again, it's the PDA there. I would really really hate someone giving me shit for not going to an event with them, as your friend did, I find that stuff incredibly manipulative and unpleasant, and I personally would be very bothered by those remarks too. So I can understand, I think, both sides of things here!

My question for you would be how your friend responds when you tell him that his remarks have hurt your feelings. I think there is room for a middleground in such matters -- he should work on calibrating his barbed remarks, and you can remember the goodness of the friendship and temper your reactions to some things sometimes, but he HAS to view your concerns as legitimate and be willing to apologize first. Does he freak out and self-victimize or blow things out of proportion when you speak up? Has he stopped making any specific kinds of remarks because you asked? Have you asked? Are you comfortable telling him that something bothers you, even when you can't fully explain why?

I think that if this friendship is going to negotiate both your approaches, it will be done in the gray areas. Sometimes you'll feel triggered by a relatively benign remark, and that deserves talking about! Sometimes he'll say something in completely the wrong way, and he'll need to apologize, and that should be talked about too! It's never inappropriate for you to bring up your feelings, even if you can't give him perfect guidelines as to what he should say or not say. And he should have some leeway to express his care for you in his own way, to an extent, too -- this doesn't mean you should let him do things that hurt you, more that you should try to operate with the base assumption that anything he says comes from his position as your friend who cares about you. That's IF he has actually consistently shown he cares about you and your feelings. If he hasn't, that's another matter.

I hope that makes sense! tldr; keep talking about it. Keep sharing how you feel. Listen to him and watch his patterns of behavior, and if he shows consistently that he does care about your feelings, then you can let that trust help you to process and temper some of your hurt when he accidentally hits your insecurities sometimes.

[cakepoppresent]

Trust Me Okay?

Whew, whoever told Chantel Williams about Andre really blew up his life before he was ready. Hopefully, it doesn't ruin anything...hopefully

Transcript under the cut~

Sebastian: Can you please please PLEASE make chicken alfredo pasta tonight? I’m really really REALLY craving it

Andre: No.

Sebastian: Why!?!

Andre: You can make that yourself.

Sebastian: Okay, fine. I can’t make steaks can you make that then? With mashed potatoes and veggies on the side

Andre: You’re always so demanding. I cook at work then I gotta come home and cook for you too?

Sebastian: PLEASE!!! We have the weekend off and when I do cook it never taste the same!

Andre: Being your roommate is tedious

Sebastian: I’m taking that as a yes! Let’s go to the farmers market!

Andre: *tsk* You’re exhausting

Sebastian: Stop acting like you don’t enjoy my energy! If it weren’t for me you’d be cooped up inside all day!

Andre: Yea, yea, yea whatever you say

Sebastian: Oh! We should also stop by the flea market and see if anything cool is there

Andre: *deep negro sigh* Alright.

*Paparazzi's Comments Start*

ANDRE! ANDRE!

ANDRE! ANDRE!

WHAT ABOUT YOUR YOUNGER SIBLINGS

WHY WERE YOU DISOWNED?

DOES YOUR FATHER DO WHERE YOU LIVE

ARE YOU NO LONGER GOING TO RUN THE VILLAREAL EMPIRE?!?

*Paparazzi's Comments End*

Andre: No Comment!

Sebastian: Andre whats going on? What are they talking about?!?

Andre: Bash let's go back home

Sebastian: Im scared Andre...how did they know my name?! How do they know you?!

Andre: Lets go upstairs first. We’ll talk about it later

Sebastian: But...

Andre: Lets go!

Sebastian: Andre please tell me what's going on! Why the hell are there paparazzi outside our building? How do they even know my name?! Where we live! and what the fuck is a Villereal ?!

Andre: Its complicated Bash but I need you to calm down.

Sebastian: How can you say that!? This is terrifying! I'm scared!

Sebastian: I’m ju-

Andre: Sebastian. I need you to calm down and listen to me.

Andre: I told you its going to be okay. Get changed and we’ll talk

Sebastian: Okay...

Andre: You trust me?

Sebastian: Of course.

Andre: I won’t do anything to harm you. Just get changed and we’ll talk. Okay?

Sebastian: Okay.

Sebastian: “Villarreal”...that’s a really wealthy family back in Windenburg right?

Andre: How are you feeling now...

Andre: Yes...

Sebastian: They own almost all the major real estate in Windenburg...google said that they come from old money...

Andre: Not that old... but yea...

Sebastian: Jesus.

Andre: Bash listen I didn’t mean to lie. I swear, It’s complicated but my father isn’t the greatest person and I had siblings to protect...I just...Its complicated

Sebastian: We’ve been roommates for so long...You’ve been lying for so long...You...You...

Sebastian: That doesn’t tell me anything or explain why you lied to me for so long...

Sebastian: If the paparazzi didn’t show up at our door would you have even told me? Would I have come home one day to find all your stuff gone?

Andre: That would never happen Bash. I always planned on telling you...just after I sorted everything out

Sebastian: I don’t even know what to say...my mind is going crazy. People know where I live, my name, and what I look like! They’re calling me all sorts of things online...how can I even go to work like this?

Andre: I will handle it. Stay off the internet for now but believe me when I say it will be dealt with

Sebastian: Im scared Andre...this is scary for me

Andre: I know and I'm sorry.

Andre: It's going to be okay. Just trust me.

Sebastian:...Okay

[captainkingsley]

i will Not comment on posts with stupid takes about Ashton I will Not,

(proceeds to ramble in my own tags because idk where else to dump this)

[fernsnailz]

sorry these kinds of comments have been really pissing me off recently lol

[deoidesign]

Time and Time Again comes back tonight!

Thank you all for being so patient with me, I know it was a long hiatus.

My health was struggling, my arm was (is) hurting, and I decided it wasn't worth it. I'd rather be slow!

So thank you for giving me that grace, and I hope you'll be there with me for the rest of the series.

[bonefall]

i found a god awful doc about this one person (who, too, is a god awful being) trying to reason why mudClaw would be a bad leader. I'ma try to find the doc but meanwhile I'll submit this because someone could have the link, I'll need your honest thought about it bcs why are we defending oneWhiker now

Anon, buddy, I'm gonna have to sit you down and gently discourage you from casually calling random human people "god awful beings" in my inbox like this. Not when you're just talking about relatively basic media analysis. That isn't ok or normal.

I hope that when I speak harshly, it's coming from a place of condemning hurtful actions and the tangible harm that they cause. I don't appreciate people trying to get me to directly beef with other people directly by requesting I break down their individual posts or analysis documents (when I ask for people to share links, it's so I can see and prepare to counter the ideas because they usually "float downstream" if they get popular); but in a second ask, you linked this document and there's nothing harmful in it. In fact, it's got a far more neutral tone than I'd take if I was writing an analysis about Mudclaw.

If you couldn't tell the difference between a document like this and one that contains active abuse apologia rhetoric, I would be filled with concern. But I don't think you read it. I think you maybe skimmed it and stopped reading, or just heard the title.

Because this document literally says this;

and your takeaway, something you felt so strongly about that you came to me hoping I'd validate it, was "Why Are We Defending Onewhisker Now."

Art is a tool we can use to explore our own biases, and teach us something about ourselves. That overwhelming sense of anger and disgust that you probably felt when you saw "Mudclaw Would Be A Bad Leader" made you jump to an emotional conclusion and you assumed something that was not said. I know the feeling. You might have had a reactionary impulse.

You are not a bad person for doing that-- you're human. You can grow.

Why did it upset you this much, though? Is there something very personal about this that set you off? ...are you spending a lot of time in spaces online that keep you angry? These are questions for you to reflect with.

I do not know the owner of this document or "what they've done," if anything, so I will not link it, because their Discord is at the bottom of the doc. If they are truly a "god awful being", please do not engage, just block and move on. Nothing is accomplished by following around 'A Bad Guy' and boosting their cat takes.

But something VERY bad WOULD be accomplished if I indulged an anon for a situation I know nothing about and unwittingly became part of a harassment campaign. How do I know that you've got good intentions?

I usually just delete unsolicited links to docs and videos that are 'fightbaiting' like this-- trying to get me to beef publicly with a 3rd person. But I've seen more of these than usual lately so I would like to try and cool it down.

[inkskinned]

maybe i'm a bitch but if i hear you go out of your way to judge someone's weight, i immediately lose trust in you & will probably forever find you a little unbearable . yes also the little floating bar over my head will start reading [hostile]. this is natural and u caused it.