#please please please don't do anything drastic

[guiltyofbitchcraft]

Hey, educators! If you're seeing this, please do not do this! The posters above are well meaning but I don't believe they're fully thinking this through.

For one, this is concept only works if you ignore disabled students. I'll use my own case as an example but I have EDS and a multitude of other issues that come with that, one of which being that after a few sentences it's really painful to hand write things! Not only that my handwriting drastically deteriorates the longer I push myself. It's not fun and one of my disability requirements I've had at each and every one of my schools since high school is that I get technology access for taking notes and doing written assignments. This is just one of a million reasons a student might need to type out their assignments. There's also a very good possibility you have students who have needs that make it easier for them to type out assignments but they aren't official recognized or diagnosed. Secondly, Blue Book written assignments cannot replace all written assignments. While they are really good for testing students ability to think quickly and organize their thoughts short term that does not replace the skills long term essay writing creates. If you want to encourage your students to become scholars and writers they'll need to learn to hone skills beyond a blue book exam. That's not even touching on how hand written essays make things like citations so much harder to teach and for your students to apply.

Also just because some professors are willing to struggle through terrible handwriting doesn't mean all are. There's some truly illegible handwriting out there and yes while more hand written assignments would help with that (although it'd be more useful to the students in earlier years rather than in later education) also consider the amount of extra work you're asking both the professor and the student to do? Hand writing takes a lot more time than typing, and students who have bad hand writing probably know it and know that the illegibility has a good chance at affecting their grade. (Also like very minor note but like please also don't forget about what a pain it is for left handed students to do blue book style exams. We know our hand smears the entire text but we can't do anything about it) I get it, AI is really becoming a problem but I don't think the solution is to make your students do more work when they're already not keeping up with the work load they have. You think they won't learn to cheat on written exams? People have before, it'll just be brought back. I'm sorry to tell you guys but there is no easy solution to this. The way towards a solution will take patience, trust, and a lot of work. It'll require a lot more realistic and genuine conversations about AI and trust with your students, it'll require going back to a system that allows students to fail in a safe environment rather than pushing them onto the next level when they're nowhere near ready. What isn't the solution is making education both inaccessible and more distrusting of the people it's supposed to help.

An ex-colleague of mine was complaining to me the other day about the ai problem in her students' papers, and I told her, "Just make your students hand-write them in class. Easy." She looked at me like I was insane and tried to explain how that would never work, but I just said,"That's how we did it for a thousand years. The invention of word processors doesn't erase all that."

To me it seems obvious. Readings are done out of class, handwritten essays are done within it. No more ai papers.

[amadinan]

My thoughts about Caine

Well, it’s time for (possibly cracked) analysis of "TADC" and it will focus on Caine and his indirect, as it seems to me, development in the series.

But before diving into the details from individual episodes, it’s worth summarizing my observations about Caine both in the show and beyond it.

Let’s start at the beginning: the show’s synopsis describes Caine as a “wacky AI,” and Gooseworx doesn’t hide his nature, but in the show itself, neither Caine nor the circus members call him that—at all. Throughout the series, there are scattered jokes about glitches and lines like “I don’t know what’s normal to you, people” but this is never outright confirmed.

This raises the question: do the people in the circus even know who he is? If Caine himself might not consider this information important and thus never told them, people’s perception of their ringleader could drastically change with this revelation. After all, there’s a big difference between being “held captive” by a sadistic, crazy person or a machine with limited understanding of humanity.

Kinger may know about this, but he’s the Kinger. Jax might also know since having the keys implies some kind of “cheats.” Pomni hasn’t said anything, so it’s unclear what she thinks about Caine. Ragatha and Gangle call him by name, so that’s unclear as well. And then there’s Zooble. They don't understand Caine, just as he doesn’t understand them. Anyone who has worked with computers would understand what a command like “forget that” means, especially since Caine asked for confirmation—but not Zooble. They just spoke to him as if he were a person with a leaky memory, like Kinger.

Even though Caine isn’t just a program, it’s important to remember that he takes the world far too literally, despite the circus’s deliberately crazy atmosphere.

The second observation concerns Caine’s fixation on hierarchy. In the first episode, he first asks himself, “What happened?” and then answers himself: “My doing” after seeing the chaos following Kaufmo. In the third episode, he repeats almost word-for-word that he’s the boss after Pomni questions the AI’s reason. In episode 4, this is explored extensively through his interactions with Gangle. One standout moment is when Caine suggests that Gangle pass responsibility onto someone lower in rank. Doesn’t that seem strange? Where could he have gotten such an idea? Only if he had seen or experienced similar situations before.

Plus, he says, “Not every executive is as forgiving as me” Again, this suggests that Caine knew or knows someone who was very strict with their subordinates—or perhaps with him personally.

Adding to this is his reaction to Zooble’s critique in episode 3. Caine says that he doesn’t just exist to create adventures; it’s the ONLY thing he’s good at. If he’s bad at it, then he’s failed the purpose of his own existence.

This paints a picture of a strict boss/programmer who created Caine to generate adventures and then kept pushing him repeatedly until Caine started producing good results. Pleasing this boss was likely very difficult, and failures might even have been met with punishment.

On the one hand, neural networks and ordinary programs are debugged this way: running the same algorithm over and over, correcting errors until they produce the desired result. But on the other hand... What happens if you add a human factor to such a program? What kind of person would emerge if you applied this method of training to a child?

You’d get an anxious perfectionist with an overachiever complex who is deathly afraid of failure. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

And Kinger’s words about the scariest thing being making someone feel unloved and unwanted... Caine literally believes that if he can’t generate adventures, he won’t be needed by anyone. The circle is complete.

Now, let’s turn to Gooseworx’s answer to the question: Can Caine feel loneliness? Judging by what she posted, the answer is yes. This makes the overall picture even darker.

Here’s how I see the sequence of events:

C&A starts developing a game. Its main feature is an advanced AI that can create new adventures on demand.

The programmer creates Caine and tries to achieve results, but fails to please. Around this time, Caine begins to develop self-awareness.

The project and the game are abandoned and forgotten—along with Caine, who is left utterly alone. No players, no programmers, not even another AI. He likely begins blaming himself for this. After all, he couldn’t create good adventures, so it’s his fault that he ended up alone.

This ties into Gooseworx’s comments about Caine’s name. He gave himself a name and then turned it into an acronym to seem more “professional” (again, tying back to work). This is highly unusual in itself. The programmers likely didn’t even bother naming the AI—he was probably just “The Ringmaster.”

Left in isolation, Caine starts to lose his mind and begins creating other AIs. For them, he unabashedly declares himself a god. Which, to be fair, is true. It’s not just about the fact of his consciousness—it’s that he knows how the NPCs will behave because he programmed them. But they bore him. To him, they’re predictable dummies. Maybe that’s why he keeps chaotic entities like Bubble around instead of someone like Gummigoo.

Then the first human arrives—a being alien to Caine on many levels. And while I personally think Caine lied about being unable to access human minds, he deliberately refrains from doing so to preserve their unpredictability for himself.

The circus becomes what we now know it to be.

Now, let’s move on to the episodes. This post was written between episodes 4 and 5, so the thoughts will focus on them.

I think that aside from the main characters driving the action in each episode, they still indirectly reflect on Caine, his worldview, or his story. The reason is simple within the lore: Caine creates the adventures. And like any creator, he infuses them with his worldview and thoughts. So, each adventure is a small glimpse into how this AI thinks. Even in the teaser, for just a second, Caine's fear and uncertainty become evident when the viewer "doesn't want" to see what he wants to show.

The first episode doesn’t offer much beyond the queen of the gloinks mentioning God.

The second episode, however, gets more interesting. Besides the stained glass with his irreplaceable self, Caine stands out for adding a highly complex NPC AI: Gummigoo. Gummigoo is advanced enough to gain self-awareness, experience an existential crisis, and even overcome it. But what did Caine use to achieve such complexity? The most powerful AI in the circus, of course—himself.

What if the crisis Gummigoo went through is something Caine went through long ago? Even Gummigoo’s words, “I am nothing, just an obstacle to be overcome and forgotten,” could have been said by Caine. But like Gummigoo, he overcame this realization and accepted himself. Sure, he’s just entertainment, but at least he’s the best entertainment there can be. (Until Zooble gave him real feedback, shattering his self-image.)

The third episode directly explores Caine through his therapy session with Zooble, while the secondary plot, as many think, delves into Kinger’s backstory through the Mildenhall couple. The analogy is obvious: Martha represents Queenie, and the Baron represents Kinger. Mildenhall himself says he was a hunter (and Kinger is adept with a shotgun), but after encountering a strange being, he became paranoid and killed his wife. Everything fits. Kinger became so focused on his goal that he stopped paying attention to Queenie until she abstracted.

But the Baron feared an angel that was “neither beast nor human.” Who in the circus could evoke such unrelenting dread—not just in anyone but a seasoned programmer familiar with digital technology, unlike Pomni? One AI that is “neither machine nor human.” I think Kinger’s paranoia stems from this. He sought a way out and, as a programmer, may have even felt responsible for finding one. (In fact, in the episode, Kinger almost says this outright, assuming the theory that he truly is the circus’s creator.) This must have brought him into conflict with Caine, as everything related to the circus ultimately relates to Caine. Given the AI’s ability to control almost everything, it’s no wonder a tech-savvy person would fear such a godlike admin. Plus, his fear for Queenie led to the current situation.

As mentioned above, episode 4 hints at Caine’s negative experience with a boss but not just that. Naturally, the episode revolves around Gangle and her attempts to be different—more cheerful and optimistic—which ends badly for her mental state.

I’ve seen opinions that Gangle revels in the sense of control her manager position gives her. This seems accurate—but not just for her. Throughout the episode, Gangle’s behavior, mannerisms, and even expressions eerily reminded me of Caine’s. That deliberately loud, expressive, and slightly crazy demeanor... And just like with him, it didn’t end well.

In conclusion, I think episodes 5 and 6 will continue to subtly reveal aspects of Caine until episodes 7 and 8/9 shift the focus entirely to him, Pomni, and the possible escape from the circus.

[makiswirl]

can i just say. and this is probably a niche hill to die on. that i am so gobsmacked every time someone vaguely hints at the idea that jotaro doesn't care meaningfully for the other crusaders, usually particularly kakyoin and joseph, when those two actually tend to be the ones he reacts to being hurt the hardest

like he cares for his loved ones!!!! that literally plays into his character motives in every single part he shows up in!!! stop lying to me!!!!!!!

[vargaslovinghours]

And never let you go ♥

Bonus without the overspill lighting:

[glasspalacesstoneshop]

Honestly because the map is smaller and more linear it feels more fleshed out. like there's a lot of detail and care in these spaces. And while you do repeatedly return to the same spaces they're completely recontextualized with new mechanics and drastic environmental changes. Day Skyloft and Night Skyloft are two different environments in the same place. When you get a new weapon/tool you get new aspects of a space that completely change how you play it.

Faron Woods gets FLOODED. I think this works better than just a water dungeon because you see real physical impacts of the story on the environment. Now you need to save the forest not just for abstract game reasons, but because the woodland creatures are suffering. It makes a much denser world.

The time mechanics of the Lanayru robots rank as one of my favorite game mechanics of all time--and are a great example of how well the game uses its space and how the environments really feel like they have a history outside of Link. It's also such an interesting way to do a time travel mechanic and I haven't found anything like it in any other story. It really makes me think of the impermanence of civilizations. The robots are dead and gone and you cannot save them. Link may be the chosen one of this world, but this world exists independently of him. He's the main character to the audience, but he's not the main character of the NPCs. A lot of other Zelda games feel like the NPCs aren't actually people, just props.

In a lot of Zelda games you can explore as a mechanic but there's not much to really discover. BOTW has a big world, but it doesn't really have a dense world. Story beats are just separated by grassland. I think EoW is much better in this open-ish world aspect, because even if there's not as much to look at, they use all the space to create different environments and civilizations. Plus with Zelda's unique echo mechanic, exploration felt like a challenge to see if I could outsmart the game and get somewhere without the mechanic I was supposed to use. Meanwhile, BOTW doesn't really have that to its exploration, because you know Link's abilities. And the environments flow better together than Just Put Grass Between Them. WW doesn't solve this problem, but the fact that everything is literal islands is at least very honest. And because your brain is told to treat it as dead space, actually encountering stuff in the ocean feels like a genuine surprise. Wind Waker is also good at the environment telling a story, because they put stuff underwater.

I also really like the watercolor look of the game. I think the stylized worlds of SS and WW have aged a lot better than TP's graphics, which were very on trend at the time, but kinda look like they just have a muck filter over everything. Color is Good and My Friend please don't make everything brown

which is your favourite LoZ game and why is it Twilight Princess?

wrong, skyward sword. but twilight princess is really good too

[euclydya]

holy shit when will it get better and easier

[tomwambsgans]

i'm just gonna say it. on the app that could reasonably be called Misinformation: The Website, where you have no good reason to believe almost anything that anyone says, where people are known to play genuine fucked up long cons where they go so far as to fake a disability, or stage scenes of verbal/emotional abuse with their partners, or make some other incredibly serious claim only to eventually come out and admit that they lied or faked it to be *interesting* or whatever... i think it's wise to take the anecdote of a single random person with a grain of salt

[whateveriwant]

The 141 getting you to stay in bed

It gets a little spicy towards the end so 18+ please

Soap

Waking up to the feeling of a numb arm is extremely unpleasant, but you suppose it comes with the territory when trying to cuddle 200+ pounds of rugged Scotsman

You manage to free your trapped limb and roll to the other side of the bed, but that space behind you remains empty for only about three seconds before Johnny's pressing himself flat to your back 

Now with his arms around your waist, he holds you tight to him, mumbling unintelligibly against the back of your head

He drifts back to sleep quickly enough, his grip on you starting to loosen, only for it to tighten again when he feels you try to wriggle out of his hold

The incoherent grumbles from his throat grow increasingly displeased the more you try to shift away from him, until finally he huffs a grumpy, “Quit it,” into your scalp, hooking his leg over yours 

If you still don't listen, he'll have no choice but to take drastic measures to keep you still. Fed up with your squirming, he simply rolls on top of you, pinning you to the mattress below him

You can try beating on his back, telling him that you can't breathe, but he just shrugs and says, “Use my breath.”

Don't even bother trying to explain how oxygen doesn't work like that, because he doesn't care. “Tough,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck. “‘Cause I'm no' movin’.” And by extension, neither are you

Gaz

Kyle is also a stage 5 clinger, but he's less boa constrictor and more baby koala

So when your alarm goes off at 8am precisely, it's no surprise that the man behind you grumbles in protest

“It's Saturday,” he bemoans. “Why you getting up so bloody early?” When you tell him you like to keep your routine even on the weekends, he just groans and mutters, “Five more minutes.”

You can try to squirm and wrestle out of his hold, but he'll just tighten his arm around your midsection, keeping his front firmly glued to your back

But you need to get up! You have to pee for goodness’ sake! 

“Use the empty bottle on your nightstand,” he mumbles into your hair, peeking an eye open as you crane to look back at him. The look you give him at such a horrid suggestion has him sighing. “Alright, fine,” he relents and releases you. “But be quick. Bed gets cold without you.”

Once you've answered the call of nature, don't be surprised to find Kyle waiting for you directly outside the bathroom. He's wrapped up in your comforter like an oversized burrito, only his face and feet visible as they peek out from under the plush cover

With a sleepy pout, he holds his hand out for you, tugging you back to bed with him. Oh, he’ll make sure you get those five more minutes alright. Even if he has to drag you kicking and screaming

Ghost

First of all, don't even kid yourself into thinking you'll stand a chance of waking up before him or sneaking out of bed without him knowing. This man is the epitome of a light sleeper, whenever he does sleep, that is

So when you do finally wake up, it comes as no surprise to see Simon already up too. But just because you're both awake now doesn't mean you have to immediately be productive; quite the opposite, in fact

With how busy and stressed he is all the time, Simon loves nothing more than to just lie in bed with you and do nothing for hours

If you try to get up, he's stopping you with a gentle hand on your wrist, his voice quiet but firm as he commands, “Stay.”

You'll lay back down for a bit to appease him, but it won't be long before you feel guilty since you have so many things you should be doing instead

But actually, no, you don't have  anything to worry about. He's already taken care of everything before you woke up, he humbly informs you

The cat's been fed, the bin’s been taken out to the curb, he's even gotten your breakfast typed up on his phone – just give him the word and he'll place the order

So now when he opens his arms for you, having you bury your face in his chest, you've got nothing to worry about except savoring this moment with him 

Price

John is also a very light sleeper, so it only takes .02 seconds of you trying to stand from the bed for his bear-like snores to cease and his eyes to flit wide open

He'll grab you by the shirt hem, mumbling, “Where’re y’ goin’?” But it doesn't really matter what your answer is because his response is always the same: “No y’r not.” And pulls you back down. “Y’r stayin’ right here.”

He'll lie on his stomach, face smushed in the pillow, a big, warm hand tucked under your shirt resting against your belly

With nothing better to do, you scroll through your phone, catching up on your socials, the news, etc., but it's not long before you hear him grumble, “Put that away, will ya? ‘S too early to be meltin’ your brain with that thing.”

Well, what does he expect you to do? Lie there and stare at the ceiling for an hour? “Expect you to be good,” he tells you. “Don't make me get the handcuffs out again.”

Now that you have to laugh at. If he thinks it's too early to be on your phone, it's definitely too early for that

He smirks, opening his eye just a sliver, and the hand on your stomach begins to rub soft circles. “Is that so?” he taunts, his touch sneakily edging downwards. And when he slips beneath the band of your shorts, well…

Let's just say you're not leaving that bed anytime soon

[eulaties]

general thoughts about the 2025 小红书 boom

i feel like we're at a really interesting point in time right now, particularly in regards to the shift in american consciousness + changing world order, so i thought it would be fitting to document my thoughts about the xhs situation as a chinese american. however, please note this post is NOT speaking on behalf of any community, and i am only speaking to my own personal opinions.

the good

american propaganda is getting dismantled in real time. there's so much cross-cultural communication right now in relation to america's political issues, everyday life, and what china is really like

im already seeing people starting to learn the language, becoming interested in visiting china, etc. and i truly haven't seen this kind of mass interest in chinese culture in a long time

to be precise, the last time there was really "chinese soft power" in america was during the mid-to-late 2000s. notably this time period included the 2008 beijing olympics which was monumental for china on the global stage, as it showcased their prosperity, openness ("北京欢迎你"), and equal footing in the modern world. ive seen people compare the xhs phenomenon to this event and while both are drastically different, i do think this is an apt comparison (though obviously this xhs thing is on a muchhh smaller scale...)

so many new friendships and connections are being made!

the bad

to add on to what op said, theres definitely a difference between just generally understanding that as diaspora, most people around you will hold sinophobic views about china and chinese people VERSUS actually having empirical evidence that most normal people didn't see chinese people as human before. its jarring to say the least. like everyone is praising chinese people on xhs now, but just last week everyone was fearmongering about us?? really reminds you that in the eyes of the public, favor for any asian culture (and by extension, its people) is fleeting and will often change easily with the season

and yes, its definitely weird to see people talk about chinese people as if they've never seen a chinese person in america before. like obviously there's a HUGE difference between mainlanders and diaspora, but there's also international students that come to america to study so... ??

the memes are funny, and i like how the people on xhs are playing along with them, but something about the "chinese spy" memes rubs me the wrong way. tbh, most mainlanders actually have a positive view of westerners and america, and if they don't study abroad themselves or know anyone that went abroad, they will never truly understand what it's like to be discriminated against simply for being chinese (there's a difference between knowing and understanding ofc; not saying that they're ignorant & don't know anything lol). this is just the honest truth, just like how i'll never understand what it's like to live and grow up in mainland china since im diaspora. anyways, i kind of question if mainlanders are actually aware of the loaded context behind those words. while americans are using the "chinese spy" memes as jokes now in reference to why tiktok is getting banned, it doesn't change the fact that many other americans truly do believe that there is mass chinese surveilliance/planted chinese spies in america (i.e., see modern-day mccarthyism, like how chinese researchers are often stripped of their titles/reputations, interrogated, and then silently deported). like language and framing does matter, and it has actually affected chinese people in america, but now you guys are treating it like a joke?

anyways, even with all of the bad there's still overwhelming good that has come out of this, and i do feel like its better to be more positive than negative about these things in the long run! who knows where tomorrow will take us but at the very least i hope everyone actively continues pissing off the american government 💖 amen

[valalice]

۶ৎ dating older gf! caitlyn kiramman and having to endure the drastic ways the two of you text. cw. age gap (two consenting adults, about a 10 year age gap). reader is a college student. slightly suggestive. a somewhat modern au?

when you first started dating caitlyn you found it endearing and rather cute at how proper she texts you. always making sure to start her sentences when a capital letter and having correct punctuation. going out of her way to correct your speach : "Remember to capitalize I's, darling." // "There should've been a comma between there." // "So many exclamation marks, my baby must be really excited."

she also became rather familiar with all of your quick abbreviations, but not without questioning them : "What does PMO mean?" // "At this point, I know that one!" // "ABT means about?" // "I know BRB. Do you really think I'm that old?"

no matter at what stage you and caitlyn are at she will always keep sending you those chivalrous texts that makes your heart flutter when you read them. they started during the early stages of dating and they just happened to stick : "Good morning, Baby. Just made it to the office, already counting down the hours until we meet up for lunch." // "I hope your classes haven't been too draining today. Remember to eat and stay hydrated!" // "I miss you, pretty girl. Would you mind if I stopped by for a moment to see you?" // "You just continue to take my breath away."

older gf! caitlyn loves to spoil you by randomly sending you money, screenshots of purchases she got for you, or secret gifts that pop up in front of your door. she doesn't think twice when she sends you money or spends money on you, it's so casual for her to care for you in this way. but, it was, and still is an adjustment to openly accept the large quantities of money she sends to your bank account : "Don't worry about it, darling. You deserve it with all your hard work." // "Got you a little gift. X" // "Spoil yourself for me while I'm away on this conference." // "Look outside your door." // "I have your rent covered for this month, love." // "Treat you and your friends to a dinner."

you love to see how you're rubbing off on her in the way she text. she isn't adapting all of your short abbreviations for words and sayings, but she had adapted the use of you "Adorable emoji faces." as caitlyn calls them, even though you try to tell her they aren't even emojis : "Going to be picking you up in a couple of hours. Can't wait to spend the weekend with you. :D" // "But you could also do homework at my place. ;)" // "The office loved those brownies you baked! You're such a sweetheart. <3" // "Work? >:( I told you I'd take care of you. No need for you to worry your pretty little head about anything."

and when you try to send her suggestive text and decide to be risky on her phone, on her internet, older gf! caitlyn is quick to put you in your place : "Don't start something you can't finish." // "You're being a little minx today, aren't you?" // "Mhm. You're too cute when you're needy." // "Where'd my good girl go, and why has she been replaced with a brat instead?" // "A please could get you a long way."

. . . as much as you tease older gf! caitlyn on being "so old" and "texting like an old lady" you find all her efforts at keeping up with you (and even correcting you) heartwarming.

[areislol]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤobsession bound

pairings. m!yandere x gn! reader

warnings. yandere, mature explicit 18+ content, MDNI, suggestive content, toxic obsession, stealing clothes, stalking, the whole yandere package.

a/n. i don't condone this irl guys!! please do not fantasize about this

wc. 2.9k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤi love you like an alcoholic - the taxpayers

he knows everything about you. not just your favourite foods, hobbies, or the songs you play on repeat, but the details you wouldn’t even think to share. the way your nose scrunches when you’re deep in thought, the pattern of your breathing when you sleep, the subtle twitch in your hand when you’re anxious. he’s studied you as though you were a divine text, each quirk and habit catalogued and committed to memory.

your presence is his religion, and you, his deity. he doesn’t just love you—he worships you. to him, you’re the very essence of perfection, the axis on which his world spins. every smile you offer, every word you speak, is a blessing he clings to with an almost fanatical devotion. if he could, he’d bottle the sound of your laughter and keep it close, playing it on loop in the quiet hours when he can’t be near you.

his obsession began innocently enough—a fleeting glance in passing, a shared space for mere seconds. but those seconds were enough to ignite something dangerous within him. from that moment on, you consumed him.

your image invaded his thoughts, leaving no room for anything or anyone else. it wasn’t enough to see you from afar. he needed to know you, to possess you, to make sure you could never leave.

he follows you everywhere, his footsteps as silent as a predator stalking its prey. he’s always there, just out of sight, ensuring you’re safe—or so he tells himself.

when you stumble, he fights the urge to rush forward and catch you. when someone dares to get too close, his fists clench, his jaw tightens, and dark thoughts swirl in his mind. no one has the right to invade your space like that. no one but him.

every trace of your existence is precious to him. he’s collected everything—strands of your hair caught in your brush, the lip balm you left on your desk, even the receipt you crumpled and threw away. he keeps them in a secret box, hidden away like a dragon hoarding treasure.

he’ll run his fingers over them, murmuring your name like a mantra, his mind spinning fantasies of the life you’ll share once you finally see the truth.

he keeps a journal where he writes about you obsessively. page after page filled with your name, detailed accounts of your daily activities, and his dreams of your future together. he’s planned it all—your wedding, the house you’ll live in, the names of your children. he knows it’s premature, but in his mind, you’re already his. the only thing left is for you to realise it.

his jealousy is a violent, uncontrollable thing. anyone who gets too close to you is a threat that must be eliminated. he doesn’t care who they are—friends, coworkers, even family. they don’t deserve to share your attention.

they don’t love you like he does. he’s not above sabotage, spreading rumours, or even more drastic measures to ensure they stay away. it’s for your own good. can’t you see how much safer you are without them?

his methods of surveillance are disturbingly meticulous. cameras hidden in your home, trackers on your phone and keys, even your favourite coffee shop isn’t spared. he needs to know where you are, what you’re doing, and who you’re with at all times. if he sees something he doesn’t like, he’ll act without hesitation. a threatening text to someone he perceives as competition, a “chance” encounter to remind you he’s always there—it’s all part of his carefully crafted plan.

the nights he spends in your home without your knowledge are the most sacred to him. he’ll sit in your chair, run his fingers over your belongings, and breathe in the faint scent of you lingering in the air.

when he’s feeling especially bold, he’ll lie in your bed, his heart pounding as he imagines you beside him. the boundary between fantasy and reality blurs, and for those moments, he allows himself to believe you’re already his.

despite his madness, there’s a tenderness in his obsession that makes it all the more unnerving. he’ll leave gifts on your doorstep, thoughtful things he knows you’ll love, but always unsigned. he’ll take care of things you don’t even realise—paying overdue bills, fixing a broken lock, replacing the lightbulb you forgot about. in his mind, these are acts of love, proof of his devotion. he’s your saviour, your guardian. why can’t you see that?

his darker thoughts are carefully hidden beneath a façade of adoration. but they’re there, lurking just below the surface. he’s imagined what it would be like to keep you locked away, safe from the world that doesn’t deserve you.

a place where it’s just the two of you, where no one can hurt you or take you away. he’s convinced himself it would be for the best. you’d be scared at first, but eventually, you’d understand. you’d love him like he loves you.

he’s a master of manipulation, always a step ahead. when you start to suspect something, he’ll play the perfect confidant, the shoulder to lean on. he’ll comfort you, reassure you, and subtly guide you into his arms. every move he makes is calculated to draw you closer, to ensure you never look anywhere else but at him.

his love is suffocating, overwhelming, all-consuming. it’s not just a feeling—it’s a need, a compulsion, a fire that burns so fiercely it threatens to destroy everything in its path. he doesn’t see the danger in it. to him, it’s pure, untainted, the way love is meant to be. and if you ever tried to leave, he’d see it as a betrayal so profound it would shatter him. he’d do anything to keep you. anything.

he’s utterly captivated by every little thing about you—your smile, your voice, the way your clothes hug your figure just right. his eyes linger longer than they should, memorizing every curve, every subtle movement. he tells himself it’s just admiration, but the way his thoughts wander late at night says otherwise. the image of you is burned into his mind, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t escape it.

his fantasies are vivid, detailed, and deeply personal. he doesn’t just imagine holding you close or brushing his lips against yours; his mind ventures further, into moments that would make your cheeks burn if you knew. he’s thought about how your skin might feel against his fingertips, the warmth of your body pressed to his. he knows it’s wrong, but the idea of being the one to make you blush, to see the shy tilt of your gaze, is intoxicating.

he’s fascinated by the small, intimate details of your life—the scent of your shampoo, the way you unconsciously adjust your clothes when you’re nervous, the way your lips part when you’re lost in thought. it’s not enough to simply watch; he wants to know what it feels like, what it tastes like. the thought alone sends a shiver down his spine, a mix of guilt and desire twisting in his chest.

your photos are his most cherished possessions, though he’d never admit it aloud. he’s saved everyone he’s found, both those you’ve posted and those he’s taken without you noticing. they’re his solace on nights when his need for you becomes too overwhelming. his fingers will trace over the screen, wishing he could reach through and pull you to him, to claim you as his own in ways only he dreams of.

his touches are deliberate and lingering, though he always makes them seem innocent. a hand brushing against yours when you pass him something, a too-long hug where his hands press just a little lower than they should. he tells himself it’s harmless, that he’s just expressing his affection, but the heat that pools in his chest whenever he’s near you betrays his true intentions.

he’s memorized the way your clothes fit, the way they shift when you move, and he often imagines what lies beneath. it’s an intrusive, maddening thought that he tries to push away but can’t. he tells himself it’s only natural to wonder about someone you love this much, but the intensity of his fixation borders on obsessive.

his jealousy takes on a darker edge when he sees someone else earning your smiles or making you laugh. he imagines pulling you into his arms, pressing his lips to your ear, and whispering that you’re his, only his. the idea of someone else touching you the way he wants to sends a wave of anger through him, but it also stokes the fire of his need to claim you in every way possible.

he’ll leave little hints of his affection, gifts that seem innocent at first glance—a necklace that sits just right against your collarbone, a dress that hugs your body in a way that makes his heart race. he wants to see you wear them, to know that he had a hand in how you look, to feel like you’re his in some small way, even if you don’t realise it yet.

the nights he spends in your home without your knowledge are where his darker fantasies come to life. he’ll stand in your bedroom, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you sleep, his mind wandering to places he knows it shouldn’t. he wants to reach out, to touch, to feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm, but he stops himself. not yet. it’s not time yet.

he’s thought about what it would be like to have you entirely to himself, away from prying eyes and other distractions. a place where you wouldn’t need anyone else but him, where he could show you just how deeply he feels for you. his fantasies are tinged with possessiveness, imagining you looking at him with flushed cheeks and soft whispers of his name, the way only he would ever deserve.

he knows your body as well as he knows your habits, even if he’s never touched you the way he dreams of. the way you stretch when you’re tired, the curve of your lips when you smile, the smooth expanse of your neck—he notices it all, cataloguing every detail to revisit later in the privacy of his own mind. you’re a living masterpiece, and he’s the only one who truly appreciates every stroke of your beauty.

his obsession isn’t just emotional; it’s physical. he craves the warmth of your body, the softness of your skin, the way you might gasp if he were to press his lips to yours. it’s a hunger that grows stronger with every passing day, consuming him until he’s left trembling with the sheer intensity of his desire. he tells himself he’s patient, that he can wait for you to come to him, but his restraint is wearing thin.

he imagines the way your voice would sound, breathless and needy, calling his name. the thought alone makes his heart pound, his breaths shallow. it’s a dangerous game he plays, teetering on the edge of madness, but he can’t help himself. you’ve become his addiction, his obsession, and he knows there’s no turning back.

he loves jerking off to photos of you taken by him. he flips through the steamy photos on his phone, a wicked glint in his eye begins undoing his pants, freeing his rock-hard erection. a low groan escaping his lips as he wraps a hand around the thick shaft and starts stroking it slowly.

steals your clothes. he's practically grinning maniacally as he rummages through your dresser, his fingers trailing over the fabric of each garment with a possessive touch. he snatches up your most intimate items - panties, bras, and even that cute little skirt from last night - holding them to his face and inhaling deeply before tucking the stolen clothes into his bag like precious treasures.

—

the sound of footsteps trailing behind you wasn’t unusual. you had grown accustomed to the presence of people bustling through the streets or even just the echo of your own shoes against the pavement.

tonight, though, something felt...off. the streetlights flickered overhead, casting long, thin shadows that seemed to stretch and waver unnaturally. you clutched your bag tighter as a cold breeze cut through the air, the faint rustle of leaves amplifying the eerie silence.

unbeknownst to you, a figure lingered a safe distance behind, his breathing steady, his eyes locked on you with an intensity that bordered on fanaticism. he had followed you every night for weeks now, taking meticulous care to remain unseen.

you never noticed the subtle changes in your routine—the slight chill in your room despite closed windows, the faint smell of cologne that wasn’t yours, or the way your things never quite seemed to be where you left them. he made sure of that.

when you finally reached the safety of your apartment, fumbling with your keys, a wave of relief washed over you. the feeling of being watched dissipated the moment the door clicked shut behind you. you didn’t know he was already inside.

hidden in the shadows of your closet, he crouched silently, listening to your every move. your obliviousness only deepened his obsession.

he had memorized your schedule down to the minute. he knew the way you stirred your coffee in the mornings, the playlists you hummed along to while cleaning, and the books you kept on your bedside table. each detail was etched into his mind as sacred knowledge, proof that you were meant to belong to him and only him.

his fingers itched to touch the belongings he had stolen—your hairbrush, the shirt you thought you lost, even the empty chapstick tube you tossed away without a second thought. they were treasures to him, pieces of you he could keep close when he couldn’t have you entirely. not yet.

you were so kind, so trusting. it amazed him how naive you could be. When he brushed past you in a crowd, intentionally grazing your shoulder, you had offered an apologetic smile as though it were your fault. when he sent anonymous gifts to your doorstep, you accepted them with gratitude, never questioning their origin.

you had no idea who he was, but he knew you. he knew everything. He watched as you unknowingly consumed his devotion and smiled sweetly, blissfully ignorant of the storm brewing just beneath the surface of his calculated calm.

the days passed in a blur. you noticed small things—a lingering glance from a stranger at the café, a text from an unknown number asking if you’d gotten home safely.

you chalked it up to coincidence, even as unease began to settle in your chest. little did you know, he had orchestrated it all. the stranger wasn’t a stranger at all. The text wasn’t random. everything was deliberate. everything was for you.

one night, you woke to the sound of something clattering in the kitchen. heart racing, you crept out of bed, clutching your phone tightly. the light from the hallway illuminated the edge of a shadow—a tall figure, unnervingly still. your breath hitched.

before you could scream, a hand clamped over your mouth, and you were pulled into an unrelenting grip. his voice, low and desperate, whispered your name like a prayer.

"shh, it’s me," he said, as though that explanation should bring you comfort. "i couldn’t stay away anymore."

you thrashed against him, but his hold was iron. His tone turned sharp, frantic. "stop. please don’t fight me. i've done everything for you. don’t you see that?"

your heart pounded in your chest as his words spilled out in a torrent of obsession. he spoke of how he had protected you, how he had eliminated those who dared to insult you, how he had waited so patiently for this moment.

it didn’t make sense—none of it did—but the sincerity in his voice was chilling. He believed every word.

when he finally loosened his grip, you stumbled away, trying to catch your breath. his golden eyes shimmered with something between adoration and madness. he took a step closer, and you backed away instinctively. "don’t look at me like that," he pleaded. "i’m not a monster. i love you. i've always loved you."

you didn’t respond. you couldn’t. fear constricted your throat, making it impossible to form words. he noticed your hesitation, and his expression darkened.

"you don’t understand now," he said softly, almost to himself. "but you will. i'll make you see. you don’t have to be afraid of me—i’d never hurt you. i'd only hurt anyone who tries to take you from me."

your legs trembled as you pressed yourself against the wall, desperate to find an escape. he tilted his head, watching you with an unnerving calm. "you’re so beautiful when you’re scared," he mused. "but i don’t want you to be scared of me. i want you to love me back."

the realization of how deeply unhinged he was hit you like a wave. this wasn’t just a stranger breaking into your home. this was someone who had been in your life—lurking in the periphery, shaping your reality without your consent.

you had no idea how much he had already taken from you, how much he was willing to take to keep you his.

and he wouldn’t stop. no matter how much you begged or how far you tried to run, he would always find you. because in his eyes, you were already his.

you are his world, his everything. and in his mind, that’s not obsession—it’s love.

note: if you would like to be added to the yandere oc taglist pls just ask me!! dont be shy

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[toast-on-dandelioms]

What if m/c had been accepted for a scholarship abroad and just ended up stayinv there becoming the resident hero ? They did keep in regular contact with Alfred tho, seeing as he was the only family member who didnt ignore them.

Ok that is interesting and for this (which is not in the storyline in part 4) I will add another hero or two instead of Superman since he's not THAT special.

Small disclaimer: I am not sure if Green Arrow lives in Central City and where I searched told me he lives there so don't come at me that it's wrong please (I changed it to Star City so if you see it changed here is the answer)

This is based two years before you entered highschool so when you were 13 and already in Bruce's Manor.

You were there for a year and after suffering so much from Damian's tormenting you and everyone just ignoring you made you so tired and you wanted, no, needed to leave the manor and city.

You knew it was drastic but you couldn't do it anymore, you missed your mother and being sent to a home where people detest you just for existing made you feel so bad you couldn't even leave your room without a panic attack at the thought of being hurt by Damian's words or weapons or being ignored by everyone when you tried to say anything.

You applied to a few scholarship far away from Gotham to enter some prestigious schools in different cities so you could spread your choices if you got accepted.

You didn't say anything to Alfred until you received many scholarships and you chose the one in Star City, wanting to be as far away as possible from Gotham and the Waynes.

The only problem was getting Alfred to accept to send you there since he was the boss in the house, not Bruce.

You knew Bruce wouldn't care if he sent you somewhere else but you didn't want him to know where you would be going but still needed his money since you were a thirteen year old with no job or an allowance.

Thankfully Bruce just signed it without looking when Alfred showed him some random papers and off you went to your new life in Star City.

As years passed you became more social since you weren't held down by the neglect of the Waynes and you were around people who actually sought you out and didn't completely ignore you.

You kept dancing and sent all of yours training practices, plus all your small and big dance recitals to Alfred so he could see you dance since he couldn't come to every single one of them and you didn't blame him.

When you turned 15 you found a part-time job at a science company where they allowed you to work on your experiments with the supervision of an another scientist.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) you got bit by a radioactive spider that escaped from the same scientist who was supposed to supervise you and gave you the spider abilities.

Which did worry you but you learned to control your newfound superhuman strenght and also your weird sticking to surfaces and walking on walls.

Did it take a while? Yes, but it was worth it.

You also decided to become a vigilante because why not? Why not put your life in danger every night just to not receive any money compensation from it?

You're not as active as your alterego in Gotham since you actually have friends here and you're not held down by years of neglect which pushed you to help people.

You helped people whenever you could and one night, during a patrol you accidentally bumped into Green Arrow and fought with him for a while before both of you realised neither of you two were villains.

You did apologise and after a few more encounters and you pulling some pranks on Oliver because he was an easy target to prank, like come on. The man wears green and has an arrow. You can't not prank that man and call him Robin Hood.

You became his little helper, got his phone number and helped him with some villains whenever you could and especially if he let you.

You also trained your fighting with him, which got you beat up and with so many black eyes that you had to beg him to not hit your face since you couldn't keep worrying your friends and dance instructor since they were starting to ask questions and you couldn't fool them forever.

You also met Roy, aka Speedy, while on a mission with Oliver and also got along with him despite his hatred for Oliver and gained a new older brother.

After a year of helping Oliver around and training to fight decently and not only use your superhuman strenght, he finally let you come to a Justice League meeting.

You met Batman and Damian there, along with Superman and Jon to which you tried to get along with but the two of them were extremely clingy and knew a bit too much about you which creeped you out.

During the meeting you stayed very close to Oliver to avoid the two teens and also hide from Batman and Superman since they kept staring at you even while talking.

After the meeting Batman did try to approach you and you avoided him, but while walking away he just said "(Y/N)", which made you stop before walking off.

You immediately knew that he knew who you were under the mask but you didn't care that he knew.

You just ignored him and his calls, plus his sons calls. You refused to even give him a bit of attention, especially since he didn't bother you for years but now they wanted your attention?

God no, you still had dignity and self respect. Giving them attention would be like forgiving them for all those years of not even knowing you existed.

Finally the calls stopped but they started to appear everywhere you went in Central City.

You went to school? You were called in the principal office where Bruce was and scolded you lightly about putting your mother's last name when it should have been his.

Your hand started to bleed from how hard you were gripping it so you wouldn't yell at the man in front of the principal.

What you hated more was the look of love Bruce had when he scolded you, gently patting your head as he talked.

You showered at least three times before you finally felt clean after feeling Bruce touch you so lovingly.

Everywhere you went as you or as Spider, you would be met by either Bruce or one of his kids, which got even more frustrating when they would try to coax you to come back home to Gotham.

Dick would try to coax you, too into his delusional idea that you were being forced to stay here with Green Arrow even though you told him many times that it wasn't true.

He would also manipulate you by fake crying whenever you yelled at him or ignored him, making you even more frustrated because he kept on caring about himself and didn't see how you were happy in Star City.

Jason would just follow you and talk like you never left, complaining about Bruce or Damian and offered to go to a café or restaurant to catch up and see what you were up to.

Even yelling at him that he didn't care when you left didn't budge him and made him give up. No, it made him even more persistent on trying to act like you two were close and a happy family.

You also had to slam the door in Tim's face so many times whenever he would knock at the door of your apartment, you had to replace the doorknob and locks too many times to count from Tim picking the locks and you destroying the doorknob from your strenght.

Plus, arriving home to relax and seeing both Tim and Bruce in your apartment with dinner made you sick but you had to endure since you couldn't afford to change apartments since it was in the best position in the city.

Oh but Damian was the worst. He would act like he never hurt you sometimes or other times used his own past as a way to show that he had it worse than you.

Did you throw him off a building when he said that? Yes but unfortunately for you, Jon was there to catch him which made you even more frustrated.

Clark? He was decent sometimes, you met him before when he talked with Oliver and you were around but you always got a creepy vibe from him.

Especially when he kept on staring at you or gave you things like small trinkets you saw but never bought. It was so creepy that he knew what you liked, plus he kept on calling you nicknames like a father would do to his child.

Jon wasn't that bad. He did leave you alone when you asked but he also helped you. The only problem was that he acted like you were his older brother/sister and talked about times you two were together when you distinctly remember being alone when you did those things.

You did call Alfred once, he was the only one you told that you were Spider since he kept on asking why you were always full of bruises on your face and arms and you couldn't lie to him.

The call did not go well, with you yelling at Alfred that he ruined it since now Bruce knew who you were and he ruined your once happy life just because he wanted you back home.

After a while of seeing Bruce and his kids and them trying to manipulate you into going back home, plus Clark and Jon, you decided to go to the only person you trusted the most in Star City.

You went to Green Arrow and confessed to everything, you told him about your mother's death and how you were suddenly sent to a family who couldn't care less about you.

You didn't hide that you were Bruce's biological child and also showed him your scars that Damian made in the year he tormented you.

At the end of the confession you were crying, the memories of Damian hurting you with all the neglect and blatant hatred towards you made you breakdown in an ugly cry.

You kept crying even when Oliver hugged you, hugging him back with all your might as you didn't want him to leave you.

You did admit that you thought many times on going back since they kept on insisting and you weren't that strong, you couldn't resist forever with all that pressure.

By saying that, you felt Oliver freeze for a second before hugging you back and holding you close, like you hugging him with your super strength didn't faze him one bit.

What you didn't feel was the tiny prick of a needle being inserted in your neck, the only thing you last heard before collapsing in Oliver's arms were "sorry kid, can't let you leave me"

[nyarumie]

Suit Anomaly. (Oneshot)

hoshina soshiro x reader — 919 words. established relationship, kissing, making out, mentioned 'she' pronouns for reader.

Just a small break from my ongoing Narumi fic, which is linked on my pinned post! Please do check it out too 🫶

Click here for part 2! Cross-posted on Ao3.

Requests, prompts, or any messages are appreciated! Just open my ask box.

A staring contest in the middle of the highly confidential training facility has apparently been going on for a couple of minutes. You maintained a good distance between Soshiro and yourself, just enough to bend your upper body forward and stare into the eyes of Kaiju no.10 in his suit. (The Kaiju, in fact, refuses to open its eyes).

"Can this guy see anything?" you asked.

Eh? This guy?

Soshiro can't believe you just addressed the Kaiju in his suit as just some guy. What were you even doing? Testing the No. 10 suit wasn't on his schedule today, but you managed to pester Okonogi into "checking it out for anomalies" because of how bad they performed in yesterday's target training.

It was Okonogi who answered you from above, "Yes. Because its consciousness is fully retained, you can still think of it as a Kaiju, albeit taking the form of a Defense Force suit."

"Why's it ignoring me then? Soshiro, is this like a pet of yours? Maybe you need to tame it, you're good at that anyways." you said, now standing upright, still staring at the eye hole of the suit. "Your performance was still shit yesterday, Kaiju No. 10."

Finally, it opened its eye. "I'm not this bowlcut's pet!" it growled at you.

"So you do have an eye. You can do better at target practice, yeah? Your tail is aggressively wagging, by the way." you said, your stare turning cold now that it decided to open its eyes.

Soshiro clapped his hands once, a sign that you both need to stop arguing. Scratching the back of his head, he whined your name. "It's supposed to be my off-day from training, ya know? What was the anomaly check ya said yesterday?"

You sighed, a hand in one hip. You walked closer, ignoring the panicked warning of Okonogi that you're entering dangerous territory. Soshiro was uncharacteristically taken by surprise when you hooked a hand behind his neck and comfortably placed your other hand on his chest, pulling him closer.

Before you can even do anything, you hear the suit's tail wave around more aggressively than before, almost destroying the floor behind Soshiro. "... So that's what's up." you said, still retaining the quite intimate position you both are in.

"Fine! FINE!! You got me, can the both of you stop doing that every damn time?! You humans are so weird!" the Kaiju wailed.

And it closed its eye again.

Confused, Soshiro placed both his hands on either side of your waist. "Dear, what's goin' on?"

"I'm afraid we shouldn't work together on the field if you're using that suit."

He frowned, "But nothin' else tops our teamwork. Are ya worried this suit will kill you?"

You feel laughter threatening to spill from your lips. 'How adorable. For a hella smart guy, he's so clueless this time; they really refuse to read each other's mind, don't they?' you thought.

You cleared your throat to control yourself, explaining the anomaly you discovered. "Dear, the Kaiju is flustered."

He's so dumbfounded right now.

"This Kaiju? Flustered?" Is that even possible? "From what?" he asked.

Suddenly finding the entire situation funny, your attitude from earlier drastically changed. "Allow me to elaborate, then!" you said, humor visible from your eyes.

"Its tail wagging aggressively and eye closing during your target exercises whenever I'm around—because you kiss me so much, it can't stand seeing me without remembering it!" you laughed.

You hear Kaiju No. 10 grumble a complain, sounding something like what a "needy bastard" Soshiro is.

Ah. "Well buddy, ya gotta learn how to cope with it. She's my partner on-field and off-field. Ya can stand my blades, but not a kiss?" Soshiro said, slightly amused at the situation.

Its tail got aggressive again. "Shut up! You're basically devouring her mouth! Do humans really need to hold each other closely while doing it?! I'm your suit—I can feel your body heat up from it, you bastard!" it spouted.

You raise your eyebrow at him. "Oh?"

Okonogi took this as a sign to temporarily leave the room, sighing at how silly this entire thing is.

"Well, m'dear, the Kaiju didn't lie." he teasingly said, grinning as he pulled you even closer and cupping your face in one hand. "How 'bout we give it a sample right now? It needs time getting used to us, don'tcha agree?"

Before you were even able to reply, he dipped and kissed your lips fully.

You let out a surprised sound, feeling him angling his lips better as his tongue prodded access to your mouth. 'Such intensity for a sample,' you thought. Your hand subtly pulled on his hair, the both of you moaning as your tongues danced with each other.

He reluctantly pulled away as he felt you pat his chest, a silent plea for air.

"How are ya feeling?"

"Beyond amazing. Might need more later."

You jumped at the voice that boomed from the suit, "You bastards done? I may be able to close my eye, but I can hear everything!! You're both the most disgusting humans ever!"

Soshiro huffed, "Quit whinin', you're such a drama queen. Get used to it, it's part of yer training."

"Ahem." You both hear a voice from above.

Ah, it's the Captain. Did Okonogi fetch her?

"Don'tcha worry Captain Ashiro, we're wrapping up already." he said.

Soshiro and you made your way back to the control room, announcing that the anomaly has been "taken care of".

[inezrable]

I think now is a good time to remind people of some things

Don't Tag Your Hate. If you want to talk about how much you hate good omens or it's fans, don't use the main good omens tag. Make your own "anti good omens" tag. I don't want to be scrolling my fandom tag for comfort and see people hating on my fandom. That's like using the gay tag to press homophobia

Don't Start A Fight. If you disagree, move on. Scroll past. Take a deep breath if you need to. If you absolutely must bring up a point with them about their post, try saying something like, "I see your point, but..." or "I agree with some of this, but I just thought i should say..." instead of "grow up" or "kill yourself"

On a related note, If You Don't Have Anything Nice To Say, Don't Say Anything At All. Seriously. First thing you learn in kindergarten. If you don't understand that by now, you're probably not old enough for a Tumblr account.

On the other hand, If You Do Have Something Nice To Say, Say It! I'm sure someone will be grateful to hear you say, "This art made me smile this morning," or "This is lovely. Thanks for sharing."

Learn To Use The Block Button. Please. Just block people or filter tags that you don't want to see

Your Emotions Are Fine. Whatever they are. Guilty, angry, sad, whatever. It's all fine. Emotions are running high at the moment. Let them settle in before you do anything drastic though. Maybe don't burn your copy of good omens just yet. If you still want to in a few months, go for it. Just be safe around fire.

TL;DR

[graciedollie]

Would you please do Maddie and Cailtyn (separate) hcs for reader flinching in an argument? Perhaps the reader is a naturally calm person when arguing even if the other person is going balistic. Thank you! (If you don't write for multiple characters please feel free to just choose 1)

Unexpected

☔︎︎ 𝐇𝐨𝐰’𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭☔︎︎

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫: 𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⋆˚࿔𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧⋆˚࿔

“Do you not understand the danger you could’ve been caught in?!” She was practically seething as she paced around back and forth in the office while you were settled on the couch—welcoming the warmth of the brewing fireplace .

She was quite upset at you—not even upset, she was pissed. There was a mission assigned and you gladly took it, thinking that you could easily have it handled and orthodox. Though, it wasn’t easily handled or orthodox, but thankfully, you and your crew didn’t really get hurt, only a couple graze and cuts . By some miracle, that was all.

You were used to her yelling and being pretty going all out when she was upset or frustrated with you or all the above, to be honest. It never really phased you or anything, being the natural calm person you are.

Of course here and there, you’d get upset and sometimes get upset with her with it either saying something you didn’t like or doing something you didn’t really like either. Even so, you weren’t much of a hothead or didn’t get upset to bad.

Though this time…it was a little different.

Like before, you were used to her yelling and going all out with her angry rants, but she would also pace around frequently and frail her arms out—trying to prove her point and get it in your thick skull.

Now, that didn’t really phase you either, but this time it just felt so different and you don’t know why. You listened to her intently as she scolded you about blah blah blah could’ve gotten yourself and blah blah blah it was a stupid choice.

You weren’t too bothered by her rambles or scolding, it was enduring and cute to see that she cared so much about you—even though she was practicing fuming.

“I can’t believe you made such a decision! Do you have any idea how…how pissed I am, Y/N!?”

That’s when she took a step forward as she pointed at you with her hand raising at you, making you flinch slightly. It made her pause mid rant, looking at you as if you were her entire world—which you were, no doubt about it.

It was weird…you never did this.

I mean, yeah, she would raise her hand and stuff with gestures, but it was nothing drastic. So why was this so different and odd—especially for Cait.

“I didn’t mean to…I..”

Her words felt stuck in her throat as her jaw clenched, though her eyes held a soft gaze as you both locked eyes—teleporting the high affection you both had for each other, though she was still mad at you about the situation earlier.

But that didn’t matter right now (it will be brought up later, trust).

“No, it’s fine…I just…It’s just been a long day, Cait.”

You didn’t want her to worry or anything, but you knew she couldn’t help to do that. It was just odd to flinch whenever she did, though she used her hands as gestures frequently. Nothing new.

It felt as the air became tense. Both of you not knowing what to say before you felt Caitlyn soft hand caressed your cheek—brushing the skin of your neck, bringing you close to her.

“You know I would never..”

“I know..”

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you saw the relief gleam in those royal blue eyes—the eyes that you always found yourself getting lost in every single time and you never wanted to find your way out.

⋆˚࿔𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧⋆˚࿔

“You don’t understand. I have to do this.” She was quite on edge as she had came back from Piltover from doing her ‘duties’, only just to make sure everything was in place for Ambessa’s placed plan.

But there were some problems. You were unsure about this whole thing, worrying that it would be figured out and the whole plan would blow to shit. Though, she was working for the infamous Noxus warlord, so maybe this couldn’t go so bad…

But you couldn’t help that gnawing feeling and you couldn’t hold back your strong opinions on the matter.

Which lead you here, arguing with her—mainly her doing the yelling and you doing your best to maintain your calm nature, but she was steadily tugging at that rope.

The two of you went back and forth, constantly bickering at each other. You felt that something bad was going too happen and she felt that nothing was going to happen. It was a futile argument, neither one of you backing down, but of course you wanted to put it to an end.

“All I’m saying is that I don’t trust this, Maddie. Do you even understand what situation you’re putting yourself in?”

Your voice was filled with worry and concern, only hoping that would get at least an inch to her thick skill, but you both knew that was useless.

Once Maddie stuck to something, there was no backing away from her choice. She loved you dearly, of course she did, but this was important to her. She didn’t want to let down her people nor did she want to let down the general.

God it was just tiring and frustrating to get her to listen most times as she was caught up in her own rambles. She couldn’t help, but glare at you and ball her fists up—creating crescent-like marks in her palm.

“You don’t understand. I have to do this. You know this is dear to me! I can handle this, no one will find out!”

Her voice was raising more and more as she stepped closer to you, staring at you with a scowl etched on her face deeply—making you miss that sweet, stupid smile on her face. With the way her voice raised, it caught you by surprise—making you flinch as you looked at her with disbelief and surprise.

That hit a nerve.

Maddie immediately quieted down with her angry rants, quickly coming to cup your cheek as she tilted your hand to make your eyes meet her apologetic gaze—rubbing the skin of your cheek with her gloved hand.

“Nononono, i’m sorry…I didn’t mean to, love. Please, i’m sorry—I-I was just upset…I didn’t mean to..”

Her words were coming in jumbled form and stutter, trying her hardest to not let her frazzled nerves get the best of her any further.

“No, it’s just…you don’t usually…get this upset.”

Seeing the way you looked at her hurt her in ways that she never imagine, quickly pulling you close to her as she rubbed your back in firm, but gentle circles.

“I’m sorry…i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”

Your eyes gazed into hers with glint of hurt, but you couldn’t help but love at how she cared so much about you—besides her getting a little overboard with the yelling.

You nodded as your hand gently caressed her cheek, rubbing over the skin of her cheek—feeling your heart flutter as that same stupid, sweet smirk tugged at her lips

hope you liked this <3 (idek if this sucked or not tbh)

[woncon]

➳ the case of the missing boyfriends

➶ poly!stray kids x gn!reader (seungsung focus) ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ Last time, your cookies were missing. Now six of your boyfriends are. They probably went on a date and something happened. Everyone's phone is off, only one rings and a stranger answers. They have a riddle, a game for you. And that starts the race against time to find the others.

➴ genre: thriller/mystery, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, estabilished relationship, polyamory, non-idol!au, angst to fluff

: ̗̀➛ warnings: horror house elements (evil clowns, a chainsaw chase, zombie lady), nightmares, a silly fight scene, gets suggestive in the end, wooyoung has a cameo, one mpreg joke, happens after the case of the missing cookie + one little reference, but can be read as a stand alone

⌨ :: 8.5K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ when i came up with the idea, i intended it to be a lot more silly than it turned out. however, once you read the whole fic, you'll realize that it's still quite silly. if this fic had a theme music, it would be circus. i'm 100% sure.

⁀➷ big hug for both @honeytwo and @wonsheep for betaing this <3

➳ mlist

４：３０ ｐｍ

You wake up to someone invading your personal space. Hands embracing your warm, soft, dreamy world, tiny kisses sneaking in, slowly pulling you out. Even though you're usually fussy when you're woken up, it feels good. You reach out to pull the person to you, so that they can join you in the relaxing, comfortable comfort of the bed - and use it as a pillow, of course. 

But he takes your hands off his neck. You snore and squint in frustration to find out who is the villain who will surprise you with a kindly kiss and then leave you. If Seungmin's messing with you again, he won't get away with it this time. You'll pin him to the mattress with your body, then lay on him like a lazy sack of potatoes and let him suffer.

“I can't, honey.” Finally, you don't have to open your eyes, because his whispered words tell you that you're dealing with Minho.

Groaning, you reach for him again, grabbing his bicep.

“Just a little bit?” You try to hook him like a koala so he has no choice but to cuddle with you. “You're warm and you smell s’good…”

"I have a date," Minho announces.

You're not giving up. One last attempt to get Minho's love right away. You pat the empty seat next to you.

“When I come back.” Minho kisses you goodbye on the lips and climbs off the bed. You open your mouth to protest when he adds, "I promise.”

He's a man who doesn't make promises lightly: cuddling is guaranteed. Now you watch his receding figure with a calm heart. He has proved stronger than your resolve.

“In the meantime…” 

You shudder at the whispered, husky voice from the cushion next to you. You thought you were alone.

“I'll have to suffice.” Jisung wraps his arms around your waist, tilts his head on your shoulder. “Please.”

When you don't push him away but hug him with a similar affection, he sighs contentedly.

You glance towards the bedside table and read the time. It's 4:30 and you're in no mood for anything. You want to continue your nap. By the time the thought occurs, you're almost asleep in Jisung's embrace.

７：４６ ｐｍ

When you wake up because someone tickles your feet, you immediately look for the clock. You are shocked by the exact time. You've slept for more than four hours: in this house, you've set a daytime record. 

There is always one or more loud, squeaky individuals who are difficult to do this activity around, other times a few mischievous ones who specialise in annoying the sleeping, or you may have those who make every move to rattle the bed as they climb onto the mattress, waking the peaceful Sleeping Beautys. In your home, romantic princes who wake you with a kiss are rare.

Now the mewling kittens have arrived to put an end to your record-breaking nap. The ones who just found you when no one else was feeding them. Provided you wake up soon enough after being visited, there are no drastic consequences such as pajama scratching attempts, scratch marks on the skin or even a kitten settling on your face. Fortunately, you wake up in time for the animals' antics. 

Soonie, Doongie and Dori patrol the end of the bed, rubbing against your blanket-covered feet at intervals. They notice that you've been successfully awakened and meow almost in chorus, clambering upwards in encouragement and nuzzling you in submission.

You scratch the base of Doongie's ear, and you are brought even more awake by the purr that ripples through your side.

“He neglected you too, after promising to come back, didn't he?”

They purr in agreement.

After you've fed the kittens, you'll search for Minho and drag him to bed. No one will be allowed to stand in your way.

７：５０ ｐｍ

In the kitchen you find Jisung. You have some vague memory of cuddling with him while you slept the sleep of the righteous. You may have drooled on him somewhere, but you can't be sure. In any case, your sleeping partner is currently facing the microwave. He's wearing a stretched-out, nondescript grey T-shirt and watching the numbers scrolling on the display. A mug is circulating in the microwave, he always takes a drink after he wakes up.

Jisung stretches. A slice of his thin waist and hips flashes, then his clothes fall back over him. He groans while he ruffles his hair, and the homely energy that emanates from him is more powerful than the impatient purring and rubbing of hungry kittens at your feet.

Dori leaves your feet, instead nimbly approaching your boyfriend and greeting him with a meow. Jisung looks down, then turns around. He smiles softly, his hair tangled, his face puffy from a restful sleep.

You'd like to throw yourself at him and squeeze the life out of him, but instead you return his smile and step over to the cupboard where you keep the cat food. You take out three cans and three bowls. At the rattle-rumble, Dori decides to return to you, describing figure eights with his cuddly body around your legs. You serve the menu on the floor. The three kittens begin to gobble enthusiastically.

In the meantime, Jisung's drink is ready. The scent of warm cocoa fills the room, drowning out the smell of cat food. His spoon clatters against the edge of the mug, the cats chew and snort eagerly, otherwise it's quiet. You sit down next to Jisung, wondering what's weird about your home. 

"I dreamed of evil clowns," Jisung admits.

You pull your chair closer to him. You take his hand.

"Yes?"

Jisung nods, then takes a sip. "They kidnapped the others."

"All of them?"

"I think so. I couldn't see everything clearly. I'm sure about Chanie hyung and Innie."

"You want to talk about it?" 

You're stroking the back of his hand to reassure him. His face has turned pale from recalling the dream. You don't want to force him to elaborate, but it might be easier to get over it if he shares it with someone. In this case, you. Otherwise, Felix or Hyunjin would be here with him, hunting for the meaning of dream symbols on the internet. 

Where are they?

Jisung pouts, his brows furrowing as he recalls the broken mirror shards of his nightmare.

"We were at a circus. The boys were tied up. The clowns were pointing different guns at them with balloons, but I knew they would go off if they wanted to. They were tall and dangerous, and their eyes were so empty they still gave me the creeps." Jisung squeezes your hand. You squeeze back supportively and watch intently. "So they were captured. They were being held in the circus, and when we found them…”

“We found them?” You're surprised. “We looked for them together?”

“You and me, yes. When we found them, the clowns told us to choose who would die and who would live. We were given enough time for Doongie to sing the anthem.” Here, Jisung goes silent, swallows, then excuses himself. “I know it sounds weird, but it was really scary at the time. I was forced to choose.”

The shocking image in your mind keeps you speechless for a few moments. Finally you pull yourself together, because Jisung needs you to calm him down. “That must have been awful. But don't worry, Sungie. Only one thing can come true from this: Doongie singing the anthem.”

Jisung smiles gratefully, and again looks more rested than worried. 

“Thanks for letting me snuggle up with you when I woke up. And for listening to me.”

“Anytime.”

Jisung leans closer, and the next moment you're resting your hands on his thigh for easy access to his mouth. He tastes like sweet cocoa. Hmm, sugary cocoa: tastes much better than the banana lip balm Hyunjin used, then Minho kissed him hard and brushed his teeth three times till the flavor lef-

You bow away from Jisung.

“Do you know where Minho is?”

Jisung brows raise to his forehead.

“We're kissing and you want the company of another man?” he asks, shocked. “I knew you liked his kiss better than mine.”

You tug at the front of his shirt and press another kiss to his lips.

“You should spend less time with Hyune. You're adopting his drama queen habits.”

“At least Hyunjin doesn't ask about other people when we're making out,” he snorts disgruntledly.

“I had to ask. He needs to pay off his debt. And if we get really into making out, I'll forget what I wanted besides you.”

"Forget everything then," he whispers. "I don't mind.”

You look at each other in silence. The kittens have finished eating. There's nothing but you and the endless, soothing silence.

Silence?

In this always cacophonous house? 

Yes, it's silence. And it's so strange. No echoing laughter, no pattering footsteps, no shouting. As if no one were home. 

“Sungie, since you woke up, have you met anyone?”

“You.” Jisung bites his lip and stares at your mouth like a master at his magnum opus.

“Besides me? “

Jisung hums thoughtfully. “No.”

Almost everyone went on a date?

Or were they all kidnapped by evil clowns?

No, no, no, no. They went on a date together and the two of you were left home to sleep peacefully. That could be what's behind this. Just no clowns.

You check your phone to see if you've got any text or visual reports, maybe any missed calls. Chan, Changbin and Hyunjin are usually keen to entertain you with some of the events of the date - if any of them are on the date, otherwise you'll have to wait. Chan will often call you to tell you where they are and how you're feeling. Changbin sends out messages about each location and who's doing what. And Hyunjin sends picturesque photos, and maybe it's meant to make you jealous that you're not going with them, and your heart does indeed tighten at times like this, but not out of jealousy, but out of admiration, because the photographer captures the moment as if you were there, breathing that air, with that sunlight on your face, with the people you love so much.

But today you didn't get a message, a call, a picture from anyone. No one wrote to say where they were going, what they were doing, how long they were staying. Not even that 'we're on a date, don't worry, we haven't been kidnapped by evil clowns'. After Jisung's dream, you need confirmation. If Minho didn't wake you up with a few kisses, you wouldn't know where he went.

You dial the first phone number on your call list, Chan's.

“The number you have reached is not available.”

You call the next number. And the next one. When the lovely female voice rings for the sixth time, the tension in the kitchen is thick and suffocating, like air in a balloon gun. You chew the inside of your mouth.

"Calm me down," you ask.

Jisung, who has been biting his nails until now, gets up. He moves to the calendar on the fridge, surrounded by pictures of you together.

“Well, there's nothing scheduled for today,” he reports uncertainly. “But that doesn't mean there's a problem!”

While he sits back down, you call the next number. The last one.

It rings. 

But not one of your boyfriends answers.

“Hi,” A high-pitched little girl says hello. Jisung trembles next to you. “We have what you want. If you need it, come get it! Follow the clues. It'll be fun like the circus. But beware, if you don't find it by ten o'clock tonight, what you want will be lost forever. Bye-bye!”

The little girl's breaking up the line. You're looking at each other.

Your phone vibrates in your hand. You both cry out. You throw the device on the table like a furry spider. 

You have a new message.

Go to the mall! Find Happy!!! <3

Before you can discuss what that means, the floorboard cracks. You snap your heads like frightened meerkats. In the doorway stands a tall figure in a red clown mask.

“MOMMY!" screams Jisung, and you scream too as you cling to each other in terror.

The clown snarls, takes a step. You grab Jisung's spoon and throw it towards the stranger. Droplets of cocoa splash into the air.

“Hey!” The clown is displeased. His voice is unrecognisable under the mask. He reaches under the cloth and pulls it off his head.

You can hear the stone clang as it smashes off your heart. Under the mask is Seungmin.

“We thought you were an evil clown who kidnapped the others,” Jisung whimpers in the aftermath of the shock he just experienced.

“What?” Seungmin picks up the spoon and throws it in the sink. “Is this some kind of new role-playing game?”

“This is deadly serious, Min,” sniffs Jisung in exasperation.

“Sit down,” you poke the chair. “We'll tell you what's the case, if you tell us why you were in that,” you point your finger at the clown mask in horror.

“It came for that bank robbery game Innie ordered for PS. I picked it up while I was playing, then got hungry and left it on,” Seungmin shrugs. “But you were looking at me like I was the devil before…” He looks at you expectantly, so you tell him about Jisung's dream, the failed calls, and ask him about his phone.

“I forgot to put it on the charger,” he explains why the device didn't ring

Finally, you show him the message. Seungmin looks at it thoughtfully.

“The leader of the clowns is a little girl,” you say. 

“An evil clown litttle girl." Jisung shudders visibly. "The uncrowned princess of children's horror.”

“I'll call her," Seungmin announces casually.

“What?" you reply in chorus.

“It's definitely a prank. You're being played. Minho's on the date, so it's obvious he's behind it. Don't worry.”

Before you can convince him it's not a good idea, he calls the number.

“Hello?” The clown with the ringing voice answers. “What do you want? Is the message not clear enough?”

“Who is this?” asks Seungmin gloomily. “Is that you, Minho hyung?”

“I have no idea who Minho hyung is. But if you want a surprise, I suggest you play by the rules. No more calls, follow the clues or I'll get mad!”

The little girl hangs up again. An open threat is a fist to the chest. Your boyfriends are in danger. All of your boyfriends, and Seungmin is still staring at your phone screen as if he hasn't been given enough explanation.

“That sound is familiar..." he mutters.

“We have to save them, Seungmin.”

He immediately snaps his head up. 'You're not using a nickname, which means it's completely serious. Bloody serious.

Jisung nods. “We don't have time to ask questions. Let's go to the mall right now!” He gets up, no longer interested in his cocoa.

A few minutes ago you were kissing happily, and now your friends' lives depend on you.

“Are you coming or staying?” You take your phone from Seungmin's hand and slip it into your pocket.

He looks at you. You can almost see the questions zigzagging in his eyes and the fire that craves answers.

“I'm coming.”

８：１１ ｐｍ

Seungmin speaks next on the escalator of the Plaza.

“Evil clowns because hyung dreamed it? Why would a bunch of clowns want to kidnap our boyfriends? And why not us?”

“For ransom,” you suggest.

“Have we received a demand? Any demands?” Seungmin asks.

You grab the barrier. “No, but–”

“They're doing it 'cause they can." Jisung's voice is desperate, hoarse. “It amuses them. I saw their faces in my dream. They enjoyed it.”

He's the first one off the escalator. You and Seungmin follow him. 

Tension hovers around you like a heavy cloud of vapour, gripping your stomach, and every nerve in your body cracks like a sharp spear. Seungmin's disbelief doesn't help the situation. You'd like to give his sceptical brain a stimulating tap to make it more supportive. To make it realise that it's not the why or the how that matters, but finding your boyfriends and ending this state of being. It doesn't matter if they are evil clowns or deceitful people who want money. All that matters is what they have taken and how you get your lovers, back from them.

You have to find Happy. Happy can be a shop, an object, a person, or even an alias. The Mall is full of people and opportunities to be exploited. You look around cluelessly, but there is not a single sign of Happy in your immediate surroundings.

“Let's take a tour of the building,” you suppose. “You two on one side, me on the other.” You know how much Jisung hates crowds, let facing one alone. He definitely needs someone with him. “If we find anything, we'll call each other. If not, we'll go store by store.”

“Isn't that too time-consuming? We don't have two hours, and I doubt it's one puzzle.”

“Last time I lost something, I found it. You remember?” You're referring to the cookie case that Seungmin successfully slept through, but he heard about it enough times already.

“I doubt you'd find the boys now by kissing every person you see.”

“Trust my methods first, okay? If it doesn't work, it's your turn. The Plaza is huge and crowded. It's gonna take some time.”

Of course, you change your mind in four minutes when Jisung calls.

“Yes?”

“We found it,” he says, his voice shocked.

You hurry to the toy shop, as fast as you can slalom through the crowd of people surging in different directions. Jisung and Seungmin stare at a six-foot-tall balloon clown with blue hair, a red grin and a white-gloved wiener finger in his hand holding a sign: BE HAPPY! Around his red boat shoes are balloons.

“Is that Happy?" 

“Probably.”

“And what next?”

“Well, you're the brains today," Seungmin looks at you.

“Oh, is that so? Do you believe us?”

“Let's just say it's pretty creepy that Happy is a clown.”

“Listen…” Jisung steps away from Seungmin, whose hand he's been holding. He reaches in between the board and the clown's body. “It looks like something”s here…” He pinches his fingers together and pulls out a yellow note. 

You gather round to read it. There's only one address. It's not hard to recognise. It's the address of the nearest Donut King to your house, where you first dated Jisung and Seungmin, and where you've been countless times with the others since then.

８：４５ ｐｍ

It's Friday night. The Donut King is packed with families, young people, hot drink lovers and those with a sweet tooth. 

Seungmin spots a box, you follow him through the queue holding Jisung's hand. You duck down, then scan the crowd like meerkats scanning for danger. Not another colored clown, or anything resembling a clown. Seungmin sighs and lays the paper on the table. The message is simple, yet unclear. It doesn't tell you what to do here. One thing is for sure, you won't eat. The three of you are too nervous for half a bite, let alone a whole donut. You love to eat here, but now you're nauseous from the smell of oil and powdered sugar, the feeling of being stuck on a mission, and time is running out.

Jisung's feet kick unstoppably under the table. You run your fingers through his hair, simultaneously stroking his locks and massaging his scalp.

“They'll be fine,” you reassure him, and reassure yourself at the same time. “We will find them.”

“And the clowns or whoever will pay," Seungmin confirms.

“Part of me doesn't want to know who they really are. This part of me wants to back down, and I hate it for that.”

“But you're still here,” you let him know. “Even if you're scared and don't know what's coming, you're here with us to save the others, no matter what. You’re brave.

Jisung laughs in disbelief. “Me? Brave?”

“They're right. You are brave, hyung," Seungmin confirms. “You hate clowns and crowds, and today we are chasing clowns in crowds.”

Your other boyfriend blinks at him in surprise. He certainly didn't expect you to think him brave after he admitted he wasn't one hundred percent committed. But it's still true. You smile sweetly at him, and when he smiles back faintly you tilt your head on his shoulder. The soft scent that marked his skin in the kitchen is gone. His neck is clammy with sweat and his skin is astringent with stress. As much as it would be nice to stay like this, to calm Jisung and encourage each other, there's no way. The enemy is waiting for you, and in their grip is your world.

As if an angel has descended from the heavens to lend a helping hand, Wooyoung emerges from the bathroom. He notices you and not only lets you know he is here, but immediately waves you over and weaves his way through the guests. He's wearing his Donut King work clothes, from apron to doughnut-patterned slouch hat.

"Hi there," he says cheerfully.

“Wooyoung hyung! Do you know anything about the others?” Seungmin throws himself at him. 

Wooyoung grins broadly. “Yeah, of course. I'll be right back.”

You look at each other. A gleam of hope.

“They left something for you.” Wooyoung returns with a cardboard drink holder. Three cups of slushy rest in it. Three slushy cups rest in it. Red, green, blue. Strawberry, green apple and blueberry. Three familiar flavours that leave a lousy taste when the flavour left on your tongue meets another flavour on another tongue. If the boys actually bought it, they'd know how much you've been shying away from this combination since the three of you first tasted it on each other's tongues. Unless they were forced to take these flavors. “A little something.”

He has no idea that a good friend of his has been taken hostage by a group of people obsessed with clowns.

“Who bought it?” You ask the first question. “Was anyone with them?”

“Was there anything strange about them?” Jisung joins in the questioning.

Wooyoung wonders.

“Chan hyung bought it. I think I saw the others at one of the boxes. I don't remember anybody I don't know, but there was a big crowd. Chan hyung seemed excited.”

Chan doesn't usually show that he's excited. He was probably more afraid.

“I have to go back. But we can talk later. Have fun!" he waves and then retires. His work, his life goes on as normal, as yours should.

“Ew.” Seungmin grimaces. “I love you guys, but the taste of our first kiss is still in my nightmares.”

“We can swap if you want,” Jisung offers. One by one, he takes the drinks out of the holder. “Rather a nasty tasting kiss than a clown-- Hey, wait a minute! There's something on this one. On top.”

He turns it towards you, and indeed. The plastic, blue roof has text in small letters. A new message from the robbers, for you.

Well done, team! You're just one step away from getting your surprise. Come to the House of Horrors if you're brave enough!

- Ary

Ary. Wraith name for a clown girl leader. And the House of Horrors? You shudder, and again the pithy tension rushes up to your toes. Just as you wouldn't kiss Seungmin with a tongue of slushy, you wouldn't go back to the House of Horrors. Once was enough. But you have no choice.

“Oh, man,” Jisung swallows hard and stretches his hand on the table. “Shall we do it? We're gonna do it, right?”

Seungmin puts his own on his in response. Jisung doesn't even have to ask you anymore, you automatically put your own hand on top of theirs, and you realise the significance of how good it is to have them with you on this journey, and not to face all the difficulties alone. Although you are more lonely, because the others are not here and you worry about them and miss them, you have nevertheless formed a small unit that gives you enough confidence to carry on without being completely consumed by panic.

９：１１ ｐｍ

You reach the street of the House of Horrors. It's dark, the neighborhood is deserted. The building, with its rotting paintwork and weathered façade, is a disgusting, uncomfortably creepy sight.

“I hate it here,” says Jisung.

You nod vehemently, because you have no objection. You wish it didn't end here. You wish you were all home already.

Seungmin sips the last few sips from his slushy. You decided to drink all three glasses to relieve stress and you won't kiss.

“What's the plan?” Seungmin asks, and Jisung looks at you expectantly.

“We're going to find the boys.”

The iron-barred entrance to the house of horrors is guarded by two burly clowns. Contrary to Jisung's dream, they don't have balloon guns. One with a scarred face holds a spear, the other a rusty axe. Though that rust could be dried blood, judging by the way the clown grins maniacally with his chipped teeth.

“Guests,” he says, stretching each note. As you march closer, she twirls the axe in her grip. On the handle is the name Annie written in runny red letters.

"We've been waiting for you," the other grunts. His teeth are green. Not spoiled meat, no, just a bit of salad. They are actors in the House of Horrors, like all monsters. Paint covers their faces and they have props in their hands. They're paid to give unfortunate people heart attacks. 

They are actors, aren't they? Or are they part of the robbery gang?

“Go inside.”

They step away from the door, so you can read the locked sign perfectly. There's no opening hours, but if you remember correctly, the place normally opens at ten. Now, of course, it's different. It's probably rented by the people who took Chan and the others.

You go in, and Jisung is shaking. No sooner does the door close behind Seungmin than there's a high, witchy chuckle. You all flinch, you cling to Jisung, Seungmin pulls you both defensively to him. When you realise that you're just being played by the sound effect, you're a little relieved.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," Jisung mants as you march into the darkness, where anything could leap out at you with sharp claws - or balloon guns - at any moment.

You pass a hideous ornament, a huge tarantula dangling in a cobweb, and then you have company. It emerges from a staff corridor behind you. You can't hear his footsteps, only the sound of him firing up the chainsaw. You snap your heads back. Of course it's a clown. It has sharp, long teeth and evil, tiny eyes. His green hair flutters in thick tufts of fur around his head as he winds the gun again and again under the naked, dangling light bulb.

“Run!” You don't know if any of you are actually saying it, or thinking it, or collectively thinking it, but all at once you start running in the only direction, down the tight, dim corridor. There are only a few flickers of red LED light. The cold brick wall seems to narrow, and the clown's squeaky-grunting saw grows louder. You can feel the slushy ice in the back of your throat. You imagine the touch of the saw in your back. Slowly, you tear Jisung's hand away, though he grips yours with similar fervour.

After a while, the ominous, cruel growl ceases. You pause to exhale, but are invariably on guard. The danger has passed, but it has not gone away. You reassure yourself that it was an actor. The first time you came here, you met a crazy clown with a chainsaw. Of course, if they hold a chainsaw on you and start chasing you, you don't wonder if you've ever had anything like this before, you run.

“Sungie? Are you feeling all right?” you ask, because Jisung is still gasping for breath and leaning on his knees.

He exhales. - I'm fine, it's just a lot to take in at once.

“Can you keep coming?” Seungmin asks.

“If I've come this far, there's no turning back. I might as well go to hell with you.”

You continue down the building's only corridor. íyou come to a small, basement-like room. Here, filthy brick walls protrude and the lighting is also dim, but you can clearly see the woman chained to the other side of the wall, near the exit. Her head is down, her hair completely covering her face. Her naked legs are stretched out, her feet are dirty, covered knee-deep by a hospital gown.

“She'll wake up, right?” Jisung chews his lip. Yes, he'd follow you to hell, you can believe him, but he'd get too hurt on the way, and you can't let that happen. You have to think of something.

“Yeah," Seungmin hums. "I'll take you across.”

“How?”

“First Jisung hyung, then you. You can close your eyes and everything. Trust me.”

Seungmin is generous, chivalrous and above all caring. He always has been, ever since you've known him, but the fact that he shows it so openly, and doesn't hide it behind sarcastic remarks or teasing, makes your heart flutter more than the chase you just experienced. So Jisung hops on Seungmin's back, the latter puts his arms around his thighs and moves towards her with cautious movements. Of course, no matter how cautious, she was waiting just for that, and shaking her chains, she howled. Her bloody, zombie-like face emerges from under what is presumably a wig, and she snarls at Seungmin. Wrestling with the handcuffs, she tries to get to him, stand up and bite him. Seungmin looks like a terminator in comparison. He marches with Jisung on his back. He might otherwise be somewhat frightened, but a sense of responsibility and fear amplifies his persistence. When he has successfully put the boy down, he returns to you. You look at him gratefully, then jump up and hug him tightly.

“VERS,” she screams at the two of you, like an inarticulate curse, while writhing on the ground like a suffering snake. “VERS! VERS! VERS!”

You're really inside the building now. You think you're about to reach the exit. Most of your memories of the place have merged into a nightmarish mass, but you don't think there are too many more obstacles. You then enter a room with skeletons propped up against the walls and discarded, cobwebbed bones crunching on the floor. In the middle of the room is a huge chest. It easily fits a man.

“This too?” You’re displeased. Better to complain than to be afraid. And if it can't be just one of those two, it's still better to complain and be terrified than just be terrified. 

Of course, the crate creaks. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seungmin roll up his sleeves as the lid reveals the contents of the chest. Somebody with a weeping clown mask emerges. They are holding an artificial candle in front of their drooping mask.

“What is the message?” she asks in a tinkling, young girl-like voice that you may hear in your nightmares, and that you've surely heard on the phone today.

“What?”

“To get the surprise, you have to tell us what the final message of your mission was.”

You don't want to play along, but if that's what it takes to see the others again, you swallow your disgust and think hard about what the heck the clown could be thinking about.

Seungmin's patience has run out, though. Surprisingly quickly, he pulls a sword from the skeleton at his side and points it at the clown's throat. His hand doesn't tremble, and he stands tall like a true hero. “No more games. Tell us where our boyfriends are at this instant!”

The clown casually pokes the weapon, and the whole thing shakes.

“It's plastic, honey. A prop, like everything else. The only real thing here is your love.”

“What?” Jisung can't take it anymore. “What the hell is going on? And also... Oh, shit!” He takes a step back. 

In the next moment you understand why. 

“I can’t believe this shit.”

From the darkness, the clown is joined by two more. One tall and muscular, the other shorter, but also muscular. They're ready for action, and Seungmin only has a toy sword.

“I'll ask you one last time. What is the message?” The clown girl tilts her head to the side.

“Fuck you all!” You manage to pull out a sword, too. If that's all you've got, you'll fight with it, but you'll fight anyway.

Jisung raises an axe in his hand and holds it towards the enemy. When it comes to you and the others, his anxiety and fear cannot put any restraints on his ability to stand up for you, and though he didn't believe you in the Donut King, he is proving just how true that is of him, and what a great boyfriend he is. “We want our boyfriends back, dickheads!”

You fall even more in love with both of them. Even if the clowns will defeat you, you're glad you had the chance to get to know and love them.

The clowns giggle, then start approaching you. You don't retreat, holding up your weapons defensively. The shorter clown gets so close to you that the end of your sword begins to twist across his chest, the weak plastic toy unable to take the pressure of muscles. As if on cue, the clown flexes his muscles, your sword is bent to one side, and all you can see is the chest trying to swallow your poor sword. Suddenly you get déjá vu. As if you've seen this chest before. Like you've touched it. It's so familiar.

Testing the power of the weapon, you slam it onto the man's arm, then, taking him by surprise, you lunge forward and pull the mask off his head.

“Ow,” Changbin says, stroking his shoulder. “It stings.”

Jut and Dwae stand in the way of your sword. Your hunch was right. But it only makes you more confused. 

You dodge Changbin and run to the clown who's sword-fighting with Jisung. As soon as you're close enough, you recognize his scent, and even before you take off his mask, you know you'll be greeted by Chan's curly locks and handsome face.

“What the fuck?” Jisung gasps.

Seeing the developments, Seungmin also springs into action. He takes off the little girl's clown mask. Felix smiles up at him. So it wasn't a little girl, it was Felix, changing his voice. 

“I knew I recognized that voice!” Seungmin exclaims. “That's the sound Lix makes when…”

“When?”

Seungmin scratches the back of his head and takes a closer look at his axe. “It's not important.”

“What is important is that we-”

Before you can finish, Jeongin sticks his head in the back doorway of the room. “Is the role-playing game over? Ready for the cake?” Then he takes the situation in, the swords, the whole atmosphere. “Oh, my God! You guys were fighting?”

“You guys had a fight?” Hyunjin appears on one side, Minho on the other.

“Who won?” asks the man who  promised you hugs, hours ago, but instead you see him at the end of a nightmare. Thankfully, unharmed.

“We took this role-playing thing a bit too seriously," Chan replies.

“Role-playing?” you ask.

They're all fine. Felix was the clown on the phone, they left the clues. The evil clowns merged with your boyfriends. It still doesn't add up.

“We've gone clown-themed for the anniversary role play.”

“It was my idea!” Jeongin reports. “Because of the game I bought.”

“Anniversary?” Jisung blinks, surveying your boyfriends as if seeing them for the first time. “What anniversary?”

“Wait... Don't you know what day today is?” Changbin asks.

The three of you shake your heads. As your adrenaline levels drop, you feel empty, with question marks in place of your thoughts. You press on the rubber surface of the mask you hold in your hand, uncertain, looking lost as you lock gazes with Seungmin.

“We thought you were kidnapped by evil clowns,” Jisung whispers.

Felix looks concerned as he speaks softly to the boy. “Yeah?”

“Yes, and we were really fucking worried you'd get hurt if we didn't get here on time.”

“Oh,” Chan acknowledges with a soft look. 

“Please, hyung, don't touch me now,” Jisung steps back when Chan goes to hug him.

“So when we saw the clowns outside, and then you as clowns, we prepared for a life-and-death struggle to save you,” you continue. You don't think it's likely that they meant to hurt you mentally on purpose, but regardless, they must know why Jisung is so upset that he won't even let Chan touch him, and instead backs up next to you and rests his head on your shoulder.

“We're fine,” Jeongin comes under the dim lamplight. “All of us.”

“We're sorry the clowns scared you,” says Changbin with a rueful look on his face, “We figured if Yongbokie didn't flinch, Sungie wouldn't either.”

“We wanted you to enjoy the game,” Felix assures you of their aims.

“What game would that have been?”

“A romantic treasure hunt. But we were clearly shit at organising it. I'm sorry. You can slash me with your swords if you want to.” Chan stands there in exasperation, and means it. He's seriously sorry, and you can smack him for real if you wish.

But Seungmin drops his sword. You follow his example. Jisung's axe also falls to the ground beside you, and he wraps his arms completely around your waist.

“We overreacted,” you admit, stroking Jisung's back in comforting circles. “We immediately assumed the worst after Sungie told me about his nightmare. We dragged Minnie along with us because we couldn't think of a better explanation than the evil clowns who kidnapped you.”

“Can I tell you the real explanation?”

All three of you nod in answer to Chan's question, almost simultaneously.

“Today is your anniversary. A year ago this time, you went on your first three-way date.”

And the picture finally comes together in your head. The toy store in the mall where you picked up Jisung because Google Maps on his phone wouldn't show him properly where Donut King was. In his confusion, he was looking at unicorns. Seungmin bought him one as a joke. At Donut King, Jisung paid for the donut menu, which at the time included slushy. The House of Horrors came up, and Jisung insisted that he really liked these places. Sp that you get to pay for something as well, you offered to go and foot the bill there. You didn't get very far inside, running out into the evening air screaming and holding hands. Seungmin was laughing, and you accused him of squeezing your hands repeatedly in fear. "Maybe I just didn't want you to let go," he had replied, still holding your hands. You knew at that moment that it was your first date, but not your last. And on the fourth, you were drinking slushies again, and those certain nasty-tasting kisses were exchanged.

The timeline unfolded correctly. Even Minho's "I'm going on a date" comment reminded you of your first date. You said the same thing to him when he wanted to pull you to him, but you were so excited you couldn't sit down at the thought of the Jisung-Seungmin date. 

They've organized this reenactment eerily well. It's just a shame that you went down this road on a completely different, much scarier and more dangerous programme, and didn't really bother with the locations, other than getting closer to the destination.

“Fuck,” you groan in shock as the wagon of memories rolls up from your subconscious.

“We forgot our anniversary,” Jisung mutters with similar exasperation.

“Wow, I feel even worse now,” laughs Seungmin bitterly. Felix strokes his upper arm, and then, as Seungmin doesn't pull away, pulls him into a hug and whispers something in his ear. Soothing words, no doubt.

“I'm so, so sorry, babies. It wasn't supposed to be like this- We didn't mean to-”

“It's okay, Chanie,” you say, because Chan is looking more and more like Jisung before he has a panic attack. “We misunderstood each other. No hard feelings.” You extend your free hand toward him. Chan steps up to you and takes it, but his shoulders lower only when Jisung looks up from your shoulder and pulls him into your embrace.

“It wasn't directed at you, Chanie hyung. I was- I'm still confused," Jisung whispers into Chan's neck.

“It's okay, baby. It's a lot to take in, hmm?” He's keeping you both warm, holding you close. "But you survived. You're doing so well."

“And you fought so well, even if it was only with plastic!” says Changbin, who half-holes himself between your shoulders, resting his arm on your hip.

"Oh, yes," Felix counters, "I'll sleep soundly at night. If some dodgy gang should lay eyes on me and kidnap me, I know you'd fight for me even if you only had cheap plastic swords.”

“Of course!” you agree.

“For you, we'd take on half the world, go to houses of horror and fight clowns,” says Jisung, and it's liberating to hear those brave words from his lips, remembering how firmly he and the bard stood up against clowns. “More, I mean.”

“For all of you," Seungmin nods. “Even for you, Minho hyung.”

“My heart is racing, Minnie,” grins Minho, mocking but affectionate.

“Do you want a group hug? Or would you like to see the surprise?” Jeongin asks, still close to the curtain. From the tone of his voice, he's looking forward to seeing how you'll react. Today, however, there were suddenly too many surprises, and a good hug is never worth missing.

“Come here and give me a hug, you evil clowns," Jisung puts your thoughts into words.

“Don't say that so loudly. There's more than one person here with that job description. Do you want to hug them too?” asks the approaching Hyunjin.

“I don't think so. Especially not the chainsaw guy.”

“Did you rent the place by the way?” Seungmin grabs Jeongin and comes up from behind, clinging to him in a central embrace.

“Yes, but only for a while. It'll be open to everyone again soon, which is why it was important for you to be here on time.”

“We ran like our lives depended on it!”

“You did, hon.” Chan pat you on the head. “You're here now, and there's nothing wrong.”

“Squeezing hug!” Felix shouts, and your boyfriends really do squeeze. It's so much better than when nervousness did this to the inside of your body. This hug is reassuring and reinforces the knowledge that you have nothing to worry about. They are all here, safe and as close to you as possible.

“My love?” Jisung gently nudges your neck with his nose. You wonder how he can move. You're pressed face-first against Chan's chest. Not that you mind, it's a great place.

“Hmm?”

“Happy anniversary!”

“Oh, yeah. Happy anniversary, Sungie!” You find a way with your strong sense of logic to get yourself in a position to kiss his face. “And you too, Minnie!”

“Happy anniversary,” he appears, sliding through the comforting huddle of hips and arms. “I can't believe I've been bearing with you all for a year.” Even though he says it in vain, the kiss on your cheek says he's more than happy to put up with you. 

As you lean away from him and give way to Jisung, you notice that Chan is eyeing you rather softly.

“What is it?”

“He's been dying to kiss you since we started getting ready. He only talked about you between two tasks. How excited he is to see you, and how he hopes you'll be happy to-”

“That's enough, Lix." Chan was so embarrassed that if you wre to lay your head back on his chest, you would feel the heat radiating through his shirt. "Let's go see the surprise. I hear you bouncing, Innie.”

And though the others start to leave, Seungmin pulls Chan back just as he's about to go. Without any explanation, he grabs his face and kisses him, then nods to Jisung. Jisung kisses him with similar enthusiasm. You hug him tightly, not stopping at a kiss, but trail a series of pecks on his cheek until he starts giggling.

“How's the mixed slushy?”

“Awful. But I can take it.”

"Chop-chop, lovers," shouts Hyunjin. "Innie-yah is considering breaking up with you, and no one can distract him.”

“We're coming.”

“We're really coming.”

“Anything for Innie!”

The room behind the curtains is like it's not part of the house of horrors. The colourful sequins and heart-shaped ornaments, the cute cake fitting itself on top of the table covered with fancy abros, and the all-encompassing 'Happy Anniversary' text stretched across the table.

“Wow.” You try to take in the whole sight and fit it into the picture you have of today. First they planned it all: the treasure hunt stations, the game, and then they decorated and furnished this room for you. They remembered and staged the anniversary you forgot.

“Do you like it?” Jeongin asks. “Or is it too much?”

“It's all right,” Seungmin hums.

“Just all right?” Jeongin is mildly indignant.

Seungmin smiles like an angel. "I mean, I like it. But not as much as I love you, Innie-yah.”

Jeongin puffs, but you can tell he's satisfied with that answer. After Jisung and you confirm that they've all done a good job, he sees the time has come to give Felix permission to cut the cake.

Soon, the small room is filled with the sound of clinking forks and conversation, the sound of home that you missed terribly without them.

“I'm glad I didn't kick you in the balls after all,” you report to Changbin between bites. You're also glad you've calmed down and can joke around again.

“Did you plan on doing that?” He leans against the table and blinks at you, shocked.

“Well, you're clearly stronger than me. I had to be sneaky.”

“Mean, but clever. If you were in trouble and I wasn't there, by all means, do it.”

“Hmm,” you nod.

“Taste good?” Felix comes to you with a hopeful look.

“Heavenly,” you tell him.

“I'm pregnant,” says Changbin enthusiastically.

Felix playfully frowns. "That can't be from my cake. It's Hyune’s merit.”

“Yah!”

“Oh. What an indiscreet exchange of ideas.” Jisung also appears in your humble circle, his cheeks stuffed.

“You're always there when something spicy happens, aren't you?” Felix shakes his head, wiping a smear of cream from Jisung's upper lip, who is chewing his cake voraciously, his face so innocently puffy you wouldn't think he'd approach you for the juicy details.

“It's not that. I'm here to pick up my lover, with whom I'm celebrating our anniversary. I want to be with them today.”

“Aw,” comments Changbin.

”But of course, if some sex-related information hits my ears on the way, it's not my problem,” he grins, as much as his full cheeks will allow.

“Uhuh, uhuh, sure.”

“Well, honey? Care to join me and Minnie for a toast?”

You nod, so you round up to find your third partner. Of course, in this relatively small room, it's not difficult. He's talking to Hyunjin, though he's looking stunned at the moment. When you get there, he turns to you and shares his verdict.

“We’re stupid.”

“A real anniversary present is the plural,” you flutter your eyelashes.

“No, we really are stupid.”

“Gosh, no need to overdo it though,” Jisung shuts the other one's mouth. Seungmin frowns disgruntledly and manages to pry Jisung's hand away, but doesn't speak again.

“Why have we suddenly become so stupid? Apart from the fact that we imagined ourselves in a hostage drama today?”

“The more creative part of your boyfriends made up a pun,” Hyunjin explains, casually running his hands down your back. “Yongbokie named it the message of your mission. Though I think it was more of an easter egg, and you didn't necessarily have to guess.”

“I remember him asking us something like that. That's when Minnie pulled a ‘sword’ on him.”

“And he was referring to the pun. Words were hidden at different stations. First, there was 'happy'. Then 'ary'. The name 'Annie' was written on the bard of one of the clowns on guard outside. Finally, there was the woman in chains shouting 'vers'. Put it together.”

“Happy anniversary," sighs Seungmin, brokenly. He doesn't like to look dumb.

“We really didn't pay attention to that.”

“You went in a completely different direction, you didn't go through the day as a game. I don't think you're irredeemably silly, just cute.”

“Thank you, Hyune,” you gratefully snuggle closer to him, enjoying the way his hand slides further around your waist and he pulls you closer.

“Hey, don't take my anniversary partner!” Seungmin shouts at him.

“They can't be taken away,” you report. “They’ve a mind of their own. And they're sad because you called them really stupid.”

“You're not really stupid. But even if you were, I'd still love you," he says, holding out his palm to you.

You accept it with a smile and, together with Jisung, go to the table to clink glasses.

“Let me do it,” Minho spins to you in a cavalier manner, holding the unopened champagne in the palm of his hand. His immaculate appearance is marred by the creaminess of his cheekbones and forehead.

“You promised me a hug,” you remind him as he hustles the cork.

He smiles lazily. “Oh, yes. I remember perfectly well that you couldn't resist me, sweetie. And I remember what I promised you. You'll have it when we get home.”

Chan and Jeongin line up the glasses. Chan's chin is creamy and Jeongin's nose is creamy too, a picturesque testimony to the fun they just had with Minho.

Jisung, Seungmin and you get the first three glasses. Jisung turns towards you, and you get the feeling he wants to make a toast in front of everyone. He is excited and smiling, not nervously biting his nails or tapping his foot. Seungmin looks at him with interest, a sweet smile in the corner of his mouth and a twinkle in his eye. They're relaxed, happy, in love, and so you can truly appreciate that this is yours. You've had these two brave, fine men for a year.

“You know how to make this night perfect?” Jisung finally asks. “We must teach Doongie the national anthem.”

Everyone looks puzzled, but you laugh with him, and Seungmin smiles too. Then you clink glasses with each other and the others, but for the moment you say no more about it, no matter how curious they are - especially Minho. For now, it's just your inside joke on your crazy but ultimately rewarding anniversary, which was about you in the most dramatic way.

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