#so got loads of stories updated

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

[roseinthestars457]

Hey, I just reread your whole fic: Give you my best shot, and I'm eagerly waiting for it to continiue. I hope you are doing ok, I know what it is when there is much going on in ones life. Thank you for the work you do and hopefully until soon

Rereading? Re? You’re gonna make me cry :_)

But in all seriousness this is so sweet, I’ve been rereading it and it means a lot. Thank you so much for this! Not to ramble but I’ve been struggling to get out bits and pieces of the story over the past months and this really helped me get my spark back! I went on a bit of a spree and finally finished out the arc I wanted to get done :}

That being said… there should be an update tonight 👀 thank you again, I hope you’re having a good day!!

[babygirlwwx]

anyone remember star project? that was such a fun game....

[captainreecejames]

Miss Movin On || My Ex is a Footballer CL16 Edition

links [masterlist] [my ex series masterlist] [series update with more footballers]

summary your ex is engaged and you haven't moved on, or have you?

pairings ex!federico chiesa x reader, charles leclerc x reader faceclaim benedetta porcaroli

warnings cursing, mentions of austria 24

notes lol this is kinda short but my head has been hurting for the past few days so I haven't been able to do much. Fernando Alonso's my ex is the next one I'm working on.

yn's instagram messages -----

yn's messages -----

twitter ------

ynusername posted a story -------

ynusername posted ---------

liked by carmenmmundt, arthurleclerc and others

ynusername me and the bestie tagged opheliamillaiss

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opheliamillaiss ti amo ynnie! i love you ynnie ↳ ynusername sei bellessima you are beautiful

username1 i HAVE seen two pretty best friends

username7 she's trying to distract us from her story ↳ username8 yn, babe, who was the man??

username2 why is arthur leclerc lurking in the likes? ↳ username3 was it him in the story? ↳ username2 no i don't think so ↳ username3 your're right, looked more like charles

username4 girl it's time to move on ↳ username5 she posts about her friend and you guys are mentioning chiesa! can't make anyone happy here

username6 thoughts on the euros? ↳ ynusername :(((

yn's whatsapp messages -------

"unofficial official drivers group chat"

charlie now accepting caption ideas for my post about yn

ynnie charles no

max emilian charles yes

ynnie max no

danny ric max yes

landotd max no

ynnie lol not the norstappen breakup drama

landotd you made this my name didn't you

ynnie well... yes you did say it was better than the actual trophy 🤷‍♀️

landotd you make me want to say max yes

ynnie lmao telling the f1 girlies that I'm the reason yall are getting back together

charlie and none of you are helping me with the caption

frenchie pie shhh cha, we're watching the girls fighting messaged haha'd by 11

princess george "imagine getting knocked out of the euros and losing yn, couldn't be me"

albono aww, george that's a good one

carmen 🩵 that's because it's my idea

lily 🏌️🏻‍♀️💙 I knew it babe

aussie son fumbled the bag and the girl or winning isn't for everyone, but it is for me 👎🏻 by ynnie

lily 🧡 how about monagasque men do it better 👎🏻 by ynnie

carmen 🩵 damn lils!

frenchie pie "you broke her heart, I breaka da spaghetti" 👎🏻 by ynnie

logie bear "formula 1 > soccer"

lewlew make that football and you got a good one

kmags why are we coming up with captions?

hulk 💚 because yn's ex man is messaging her being a dick and so charles has decided to hard launch

kmags ohhh wait, how do you know this nico?

hulk 💚 I stay in the know 💪🏼

ynnie gotta keep my grid dad up to date

nando why the fuck is he your grid dad??

lewlew yeah wtf?

ynnie uhm, cause my grid dad can't be my boyfriends grid dad or my son's dad's boyfriend???

charlie still getting off topic

frenchie pie don't worry chiesa, she's moved on to someone better

kika!! 💘 pierre, he is not saying that!

ynnie thank you!! someone actually on my side

kika!! 💘 say 'don't worry, she's moved on'

ynnie how about none of those

charlie i don't see you coming up with anything, mon cherie

ynnie meet my love, yn?? my beautiful girlfriend, yn?? something normal please

charles_leclerc posted ------

liked by ynusername, scuderiaferrari and others

charles_leclerc don't worry bud, she's moved on

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username11 calling chiesa bud is insane

username12 two different tifosi coming together to NOT maximize their joint slay ↳ username11 charles really declaring war on juve fans ↳ username12 who will win? ferrari or juve?

ynusername sha, this is not what we agreed on. ↳ charles_leclerc but this is funnier, no? ↳ ynusername I blame pierregasly for this ↳ pierregasly that's okay, MY bestie is iconic ↳ francisca.cgomes are you calling me not iconic ↳ ynusername hahaha, let's all laugh at pierre now ♥️ by estebanocon ↳ username13 not estie bestie liking that comment

username14 THE HAND ON HER THROAT IN THE SECOND PICTURE??? YN HOW DID YOU SURVIVE? ↳ username15 BITCH WHO CARES ABOUT THAT HAND!! LOOK AT THE FIRST PICTURE! ↳ username14 charles marking his spot like a dog

lewishamilton look at you two! ↳ ynusername hi future teammate!

logansargeant i liked my suggestion :( ↳ charles_leclerc me too ↳ oscarpiastri personally my options were better ↳ username16 now I want to know what you all suggested ↳ logansargeant formula 1 > soccer

username17 someone should edit that picture of jorginho getting the spaghetti dumped on him to chiesa, but it's actually formula 1 cars ↳ username18 winning isn't for everyone, but it is for Charles ↳ oscarpiastri that's what I said! ↳ username18 omg twins!

username19 chiesa really fumbled the bag ↳ oscarpiastri I said that one too! ↳ username19 oscar just twinning with everyone!

[underwhelmingalchemist]

So apparently the version of the "Isn't It Bromantic" interview that gets passed around isn't the full thing

So after seeing a tumblr post I can't find, about two and half hours of intensive internet digging, and one purchase from a sketchy second-hand site later (full story under the cut, I promise it's interesting, but also long), I got the physical magazine and scanned it

So here you go: the full "Isn't It Bromantic?" TV guide interview with Robert Sean Leonard and Hugh Laurie

Feel free to repost wherever you want- I want people to be able to find the full thing

SO, as for how I found it:

I saw this tumblr post forever ago that I can't find anymore because tumblr is just Like That with a cropped screenshot of an interview with Hugh Laurie and Robert Sean Leonard. In the interview, they're asked about the "bromance" between their two characters. Leonard makes an annoyed comment about how "everyone [is] obsessed with homosexuality", followed by the interview apologizing and Laurie immediately jumping in with, "No, no, let's talk about it. Wilson and House have an unusual relationship so you have to explore…" and the screenshot cuts off there. Cue funny comment from the OP about the interaction, roll credits.

Except, as these things tend to do, it ended up becoming a bit of a brain worm, and I wanted to find it again. But I couldn't find the tumblr post. I looked absolutely everywhere, and in the process of looking everywhere, I found what I thought was the original interview- a blog post with the full quote from the actor. I didn't think too much about it, I figured it was just a short quote given to a popular blog in 2008. There's a magazine cover above it, but I don't think too much about it, because I'm focusing on the quotes in the article instead of the rest of it.

So I send screenshots to a couple friends to make jokes, and it probably should have died there.

However, late at night I end up thinking about that interview again, because of course I did. I start to think about how it's weirdly formatted for, what I assumed at first reading, was just an entertainment news blog reaching out for comment and getting a response. So I pull up the screenshots of the article (because weirdly enough, the old-ass blog only loads on mobile) and look at it again.

This is when I realize that this isn't an original piece from a blog interviewing these two after reaching out for comment. This is a blog post quoting and commenting on a full interview from a magazine, which I had originally thought had just been the inspiration for the piece.

So naturally, I go looking for the magazine.

Luckily, the name of the magazine is displayed on the cover, and so is the title of its main piece. This should be easy to find, right?

Wrong.

This is an interview in a physical magazine. From 2008. October 13th, 2008, to be exact.

I know this exact date because searching the article title and magazine name leads me to an archive on the TV Guide website.

Of covers.

And nothing but covers.

I spend like forty-five minutes searching everywhere I can think of on the web. Internet Archive, the TV Guide website, any search result that comes up when I search any combination of the words "House" "Interview" "Bromantic" "Bromance" "TV Guide" "Archive" etc. Over and over, all that's coming up are that original blog post and the cover from the official gallery.

The only things I could find online were:

The cover and date of the issue on the TV Guide website

The original blog post that was screenshotted in the original tumblr post

Another blog post that had a much shorter version of the quote, references something Leonard says from later in the article, and makes a comment on the nature of his reaction to the term "bromance"

An entry on Leonard's IMDB page's "interview" list mentioning it in title only

And:

5. A single listing for the issue on what seemed to be a second-hand site that looked like it hadn't had its UI updated since the mid 2000's, with a listing with no date or additional information besides what issue it is.

This is the only listing anywhere. I checked every other second-hand site I could think of, and then some that only came up through google searches. There's not a single listing for that issue on any of them. There were plenty of listings of TV guide magazines, including one that seemed promising because it included issues from that year, but it was missing all of October.

It seemed like the only listing for this issue on the entire internet was this one copy on this one obscure website. For all I know, this was listed in 2008 and abandoned, and just never got marked inactive. It could also be a complete scam.

A few quick google searches show that that website seemed to be legit, albeit a bit loose on quality control (which makes sense, this website seemed like the kind of thing you'd have to use the Way Back Machine to access). It also had an option to pay via PayPal, which meant I could file a chargeback if need be.

It was $11.50 when you include shipping.

So at about half past midnight, I bought the listing.

Naturally, about an hour later, I manage to actually find a scan of the interview. I had to follow a link in the comments of a post on FanPop, taking me to an old wordpress blog, and I'm sitting in front of the damn interview at last.

But something doesn't make sense. Why would their cover story only be two pages of text that aren't even full pages, and why would it cut off so strangely? There was no concluding sentence or paragraph, even though it started with a fairly long lead-in. It also led right up to the edge of the page, which felt like there should be more to it. There were more images in the interview than text, and the fact that there are so many of them and they clearly did a whole photoshoot indicated that they had them on hand for a while. The silly string one, for instance, I imagine probably had to require a couple takes, which means cleaning off Wilson's hair and face, adjusting makeup, etc. for it. Meanwhile, the conversation itself seems like it could have taken ten minutes total. I could have been totally wrong and that was where the article ended, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there might be more.

So I hold tight. A couple days pass with no update, and then the PayPal purchase gets updated with a tracking number. Promising, but it could still be a scam. Whether or not I get the actual magazine becomes a source of anxiety for the next week.

Until today, when I get told it was delivered. And when I opened the envelope it was sent in: there it was.

When I tell you I was happy stimming in my bedroom just holding the damn issue in my own hands... And then opening it and finding out that I was right, there was a missing page... I was elated. I still am, just typing this.

So I spent half an hour getting my scanner to work, and I give you the above issues.

Like I said above, feel free to repost however and wherever you want. I want all this to mean something.

In the meantime, I have two more House-themed TV Guide magazines coming to try and get articles from.

[buttercupblu]

Satoru's Psyche|Surfacing

"Power dynamics, they're fluid."

Session 1 of 10|Next Session

🗂️Patient Chart Update: Routine patient visit and care performed. Patient is stable, mostly corporative, and only mildly rowdy today. Vitals are clear, appetite is normal, nothing of interest to report other than slightly abnormal behavior resulting in the [REDACTED] incident, pending Nurse deliberation on how to proceed with patient disciplinary action. 📋 Length of Session (w.c): 5.2k out of "we will cross that bridge when we get to it 🤠" 💊Intake Chart (tags): this is a full-blown AU with a slowww build-up, yandere-ish behavior, pet names, angst, compulsive flirter Gojo (he literally cannot help it), mentally unstable Gojo, Nurse!Reader ✏️doctor's angel’s note: there’s something very, very special about how this story was born. extended author’s note at the end of this chapter if you’re curious|kk I'm done talking - enjoy Satoru’s Psyche. 🎼 Waiting room music: Child's Play|SZA

They all worshipped the strongest. 

But no one saw the man; no one noticed the cracks until it was too late.

The first appeared after the Star Plasma Vessel mission—Gojo's near-death experience and first awakening. 

Then, it was his best friend, Suguru Geto. His betrayal, death. Murder. 

The blood on Gojo's hands left such a deep mark.

Devastation. Irreparable damage.

No matter what Gojo did after that, death followed him like a loyal dog. 

And when the final crack happened in the Prison Realm, with no distraction from his own thoughts and burdens and painstakingly harsh reality, Satoru Gojo bent..then snapped.

He can't remember what happened after being unsealed. 

All he knew was the blood that came afterward.

Apparently, he went on a rampage, but in his psyche, it didn't matter.

Nothing mattered.

And he didn't feel guilt—not in the slightest. 

They must have gotten what they deserved, right? 

The thoughts were deafening.

But Gojo’s natural tendency to play the hero was even louder and got the best of him. The realization of what he’d done was haunting—plaguing and persuading him like a Devil in his ear until he turned himself in to shut the voices the fuck up. 

Once again, good ruled over evil and the world was safe.

In Gojo's own sick and twisted way, he had once more saved the day.

And as a thank you? He's here, in a fucking straitjacket, seals all around to make his cursed energy dormant. At least, that's what those old fools believe…

Gojo can't help but scoff, recalling all their nonsense. 

“You're unstable. The mind needs to be healed.”

Blah fucking blah. What a load of bullshit. 

However, society never took too kindly to a little mass murder, so fine.

Gojo will play nice... for now.

And for the most unexpected reason why.

His grin only deepens, a borderline predatory look as he hears those familiar footsteps. 

Ah...how wonderful.

“There you are.”

The man waits by the door, shoulder framing your entrance and leaning on the wall. Welcoming, warm and expectantly, before the locks can disengage. 

Like many times before, your eyes meet through the window pane. A dull blue under snowy white lashes, heavy and following yours, but barely piercing the plastic—small and artificial—only a thin layer of careful separation, but you both see right through it. Neutrality on your face but wavering sharpness in your eyes. And a glint in his as the familiar buzz! ushers you into his world.

“How’s my favorite nurse?” he asks like a broken record. All casual-like, as if his arms aren’t meticulously tucked into tight restraints that work hard against his muscled frame. “Missed your favorite psychopath?”

He couldn’t sound more arrogant, but still has to smirk watching you brush past him—expecting nothing less—but feels a different air.

There’s a pep in your step, carrying you into the stark white room and making it impossible to miss the subtle sway of your hips and dangling supply bag on your arm. Naturally fluid as if you’re oblivious to its sensual nature.

Gojo rarely saw you wear any emotion on your sleeve, let alone what he thought was hints of joy, but something was slipping through the cracks.  

And what’s that? A slight grin on your face? 

What exactly do we have here?

This attitude is foreign. Better than the blank slate or frequent exhaustion you usually walk in with, but this was a side of you that was unfamiliar. 

What’s got you in such a mood, he wonders? And what else could it be, if not him? 

It’s all because today is an “okay day”. And in places like your ward, “okay” is as good as gold.

Rounds have been fairly simple in the usually chaotic hospital—a small win if you put things in perspective, but it’s enough for you to feel good about it. 

Hell, with the way things usually go around here, it feels like Christmas came early and you got just what you wanted. 

A big, whopping present called “all of your co-workers showing up to work”. The standard for most workplaces but here, such miracles only exist in your daydreams to get through your usually fucked schedule.

But not today. Today, the angels personally visited your ward to carry your burdens and lighten your load. For the first time in months, you didn’t groan the second you saw your patient roster for the day and instead had to do a doubletake because the list was surprisingly short. Only your regulars sat on it and that could only happen if the ward was fully-staffed.

You thought it was a mistake when you checked the schedule this morning, but no, everyone’s name sat prettily on the sign-in sheet at the front desk—a sight you hadn’t seen since orientation and was confirmed with every familiar and slightly foreign face you passed in the halls. 

There were no call-outs, no extra work, and the best part, no unexpected shift changes. 

Overtime would not get its hands on you today and the thought alone made you feel lighter because enough time is spent in these melancholy walls as is. 

With thoughts on the week’s end, you found yourself drifting through the day on autopilot. Wondering if you should make plans—doubtful you’ll see them through—and time seemed to be flying by with your thoughts. Following the rarely-seen routine you know like the back of your hand helped you blaze through the morning and grow closer to sweet rest for your already aching feet. 

Miracles were coming in left and right, proof that today just might be your day. It’s still early, but no one had broken out of their room or flung any property around yet. Guards sit comfy and reclined at their posts, lounging around more than they’re being called, and you haven’t even had to run off to the lockers to change your scrubs that are usually ruined by now. Luck is keeping you high and dry—free from accidents or patient tantrums, both of which are all too common. And always seem to have your name on them.

But the cherry on top, second to none, pièce de résistance.

Is a possibility.

Just the teeniest, tiniest, sliver of a chance…to walk out of these doors early. 

Be still your beating heart.

Early release?? Unheard of. You almost skipped through the halls thinking about it. Dreaming of the reclaimed time—the deliciously healthy heap of rest. 

With no signs of trouble, aside from forcing yourself to chug a wildly unhealthy energy drink to fight off tendrils of sleep, you just may be in the clear.

Things seem steady in the sleepy ward today. So sure, you’re in a relatively good mood. 

But is it good enough to deal with Gojo? 

It puzzles you, how he always knows you’re coming before he sees you. How he sort of announces your presence before you get the chance. Like the honor belongs to him.

The psychopath. 

Your head tilts at the diagnosis, hearing it come from his lips for the first time. Even if unseriously. 

He’s self-aware, at least. Not that the confession makes your visits any easier. 

Over time, after working so closely with a personality like Gojo’s, you’ve learned to take everything he says with a grain of salt. Especially when it comes from such shameless lips.

Answering his question with an eye-roll, you set your supplies down to pull out your clipboard and check his vitals. Something that once upon a time made your palms sweat and throat dry, but never showed on your face. You knew what the role required, what it would need for you to survive—intimidation and cowardice were not a part of it—and eventually, after you banged that into your head enough, even if you had to fake it til you made it, you became used to the routine.

As has Gojo, complying with each step on the checklist like it was second nature. Walking over to his favorite spot to be taken care of, the bed. Lifting his tongue to take his temperature. Offering his arm to check his blood pressure. Noting that his eyes aren’t bad today—not needing to wear his blindfold due to the security system. Doing it all without needing you to say a word. All within his control.

But the one thing he can’t get a grip on is how his heart begins to beat. Every time like clockwork the moment you lay a hand on his back to listen to it. Racing in his chest—thumping through your stethoscope—while he wears the calmest face. 

Curiosity called you after noticing it a few times once you determined it wasn’t a condition. Guaranteed to start up with the gentlest touch that he was surely used to. 

So, what exactly goes on in his mind in these moments? Despite hiding it so well? 

What could possibly be making Tokyo’s most unhinged, mass-murderer, so flustered? 

You never have much time to think about it because it won’t matter in the next few seconds anyway. Sitting still enough to get through vitals was as serious as Gojo gets, making the quickest part of your visits with him the easiest. 

Everything that follows the second you put your kit away is pure…surprise. 

“So…are you gonna undo the straps this time, sweet nurse? My arms are sore.”

He pouts. Sweetly. So devilishly charming. As he did so often with a flash of those cerulean, blue eyes that could make and break hearts.

You sigh. One could almost forget that by society’s standards, he’s a “dangerously unstable individual.” 

Something you’re acutely aware of. And trained for. Which is why you don’t mind the coquettish jabs he throws your way—and why he keeps on throwing them.

You aren’t aware but these hourly visits, along with his agreement to stay put, are the only reasons why he’s still here despite being Satoru fucking Gojo and simply walking out. It’s not like anyone could stop him if they really wanted to, and he knew that. 

Truth is—it pissed Gojo off, being stuck here. Cooperative. It was fucking irritating, to say the least. 

He’d rather be tortured than bored and might’ve second-guessed his decision to surrender if he knew the punishment would be…this. 

But lo and behold, here you are. Relief in the flesh while he bides his time. One that he wasn’t expecting.

“You sure are possessive today.” You hide a smirk, draping the stethoscope around your neck, his heartbeat returning to normal after losing your touch. “Am I really your favorite?” The leather straps hug his pale skin a bit tightly, but his mobility is good enough to ignore his request to loosen them. That would be suicide. 

He tsks, eyes sparkling at your words—a warning glimmer hidden beneath the icy gaze. 

Chilling. But the least bit surprising. 

Gojo and cattiness go together like love and war—and he wears it with his whole chest. 

Even when unprovoked, he’s known for being….testy. Trying his hand again and again until he gets some kind of reaction. Waiting to see what makes someone bite. 

But there was something disingenuous about this petty quirk. The repetition and how it seemed to lack a goal. How he seemed almost…desperate for interaction—attention—any attention.

Eventually, once you sat in his face long enough to learn how to disassociate with a straight face, you figured out that he just loves to hear himself talk. Like that one kid in class who’s always inserted themselves into every conversation and made it about them. 

He rarely gives you a hard time though—less than most of your other patients in fact—and usually sends more kisses than cuts. Occasionally, when you find them…okay, or tolerable enough, you indulge him and this charade between you two—like the high school crush it resembled. Strict. But harmless. 

And you’re only entertaining him now because he’s one of your last patients for the day. A fact not lost on him, but disregarded nonetheless. Even if you were just playing along, he knew there had to be more depth. All the masks in the world couldn’t hide that smile on your face.

His laugh breaks the tension. “I'm a yapper, not a liar...Am I yours?” He raises a brow. “You didn’t answer me earlier.”

His low tone carries an unspoken weight. Cryptic. Eerie. Needy. Almost calling you like a possession more frequently than ever.

It isn’t lost on you that his affections have blossomed as you’ve spent more time together. Visits are supposed to be 10, 15 minutes tops—collect vitals, serve meals, give meds, and avoid accidents. But Gojo? He drinks up your time. Going on 30, sometimes 45 minutes of routine maintenance and “extra care”. This wasn’t standard practice, but they didn’t tell you that, among other things when you accepted the position.

Every time you cross Gojo’s threshold, you’re reminded that you’re not actually supposed to be here. You’re just a nurse after all, not a therapist, and lacked the credentials to even begin to handle a patient like Gojo. But in the end, qualifications don’t matter when his staff has a famous history of running away. 

A fate shared by his previous nurse and therapist. Both fell victim to Gojo’s whimsical and relentless personality and suffered a mental breakdown from hell before quitting the ward. Capacity for hospitality completely shot, they nailed the coffin shut by ditching the healthcare industry altogether. 

And that was after only a few hours. 

In the beginning, you had absolutely no faith in yourself. Swore it was a sick joke as you couldn’t begin to fathom why they would even consider you for the job. 

You??

Gojo the Psycho’s nurse? It would’ve been easier to turn in your resignation right then to avoid living in hell.

You wondered how your life would change as you got to know the world’s most hated man. 

How long you would last—if he would let you. 

Anxiety and nausea gnawed at the back of your throat as time grew closer to meeting him. But eventually, after running the scenario in your head a million times over and trying to come up with some sort of plan or plea for your life, the day came, and you stood before the unpredictable man who looked like he saw right through you. 

Just the idea of being in Gojo’s presence is enough to let you know it’ll be unnerving. 

But the moment was…odd. 

Naturally, you wanted rely on book smarts and previous patient experiences to get you through what you knew would be a short and traumatic failed attempt at connection. But then you took a second to really look at Gojo, not study, but a kind of look that catches something…a conflict in his eyes—and instantly knew he was no ordinary patient. 

He was something you’d never met before, and any attempts to use a cookie-cutter facade would quickly be chewed up and spat out. 

So, you went with your gut—hoping to escape with some remnants of your sanity at least. 

Who knew you’d end up surprising not only yourself but also the Director and all the other staff in the ward who watched with held breaths? 

Gojo practically welcomed you with open arms. Flashing his pearly whites and dimples in a closed-eyed smile. You could hear a pin drop.

He didn’t bark, he didn’t bite. Only teased, feeding you sultry words with cunning lips until your face visibly flushed with blush. They didn’t warn you about charm. Debatibly the “worst” part about working with the blue-eyed lady-killer. Or that his devilishly handsome face would make you second-guess his sanity and guilt.

But you knew what this was. Or at least what it wasn’t and quickly put on blinders to every distraction he threw. Holding your breath the whole way through and surprising yourself every time you walked out his room. After your trial period had run for a few days with no mishaps—the opposite, really— you were promoted. And given a big, fat new check (certainly not for collateral). 

You didn’t know whether to breathe a sigh of relief or concern.

Congratulations! You were now in charge of Gojo’s physical AND mental health. 

Which meant longer, more thorough visits.

The idea was nerve-racking for weeks, to say the least. And because he has the nerve to be a karate-chopping ‘sorcerer’ or whatever it is that makes the man so dangerous, he needs careful safeguarding. Which means having his very own wing and accommodations in the ward. The only barriers between Gojo and doing whatever the hell he wants is one guard stationed near the entrance and some type of security system they can’t disclose to you. It’s supposed to suppress his abilities or something, you don’t quite understand itself yourself, but most importantly, it keeps him tame.

Still, choosing to grace his space almost daily always feels like tempting a snake. 

But somebody has to do it. 

And in a way, by his own means, offering a satisfied grin and all, Gojo had chosen you. 

Even in the confines of a cell, with seemingly nothing left to live for and no room for emotions, you, this wonder, have managed to catch his eye. In a way that made him want to sink his teeth in and soak up your attention. For reasons you couldn’t be more unsure of. 

“It would break my heart if it weren’t true,” he continues, sitting in the only chair in the room, “You’re my entertainment, you know? My doll to play with.”

You scoff, arms folding. The word doll echos in your ear like a chamber. That was a new one. 

“You sure talk a lot of game for someone in your situation.” 

“I love games.” He leans, eyes drinking in his favorite powdery blue scrubs that hug your frame in an all too professional manner. “Play with me, Nurse.”

Time belonged to Gojo, and he chooses to bide it with a little fun until release—or escape. His ever-changing mind hasn’t decided yet but it was far from a concern. Because the truth of this truce was painfully obvious. He knew he wouldn’t be here forever. And is quick to mention that he’d love to take you with him.

“If you can handle me.” He licks his lip. “Unless I’m too much for you.”

And there it is. That cool smile that sends shivers down spines. Irresistibly stirring your core every time he parts his lips. 

You hated it—no one could deny his charm or his intimidating presence. Even in chains, shackled and restrained, he maintains some kind of control: crumbling walls with his charisma, waving around his amorous, overassertive reputation like a big red flag.

But you’ve already proven to not be like the rest, easily swayed or reduced to puddles. Your wall is firm. Solid. He baits you time and time again—a smile here, a sinful gaze there—only to be met with dismissive yawns. Rousing something inside of him that deemed you a challenge. Something worth exploring. You were…difficult.

You’re the one who laughed this time, shaking your head and tucking a hair behind your ear. He oozes confidence from every fiber of his being—and bores you.

“Are you going to tell me what you’d like to lunch today or just keep bothering me?” 

And goddammit he has the audacity to grin. To tuck his lip under his teeth slow enough to make you catch it. 

Your insolence is adorable, yet maddening; a cocktail he drinks with delight before realizing how much he loves the taste. 

You were becoming really good at it, beating up his ego and turning a blind eye to his silly little flirts, but interest never faded from his gaze no matter how careless you seemed. Or were trying to. 

He tsks. “C’mon, Nurse. If I can’t have fun here, where can I? Besides,” Sunlight streams in from his barred window as if on cue. “You’re the only thing here worth talking about.”

Butterflies? Knots? Maybe both fill your stomach.

Neither can be good for you in a situation like this.

The dreamy words whisper sweet nothings into your ear, and stroke your ego with a delicate thumb. Soft and gentle—and from a shell of a man. 

A good turned evil. 

And you don’t have to look too far to remember how he got here—to remember why the enchanting man before you is dressed in heavy white restraints and public enemy number one. 

Guilt tugs at you for even joking around with him sometimes. You picture his victims. The lives forever changed. And how he didn’t seem sorry for it. 

Besides, even if Gojo wasn’t a basket-case, it’s hard to look past how childish he is anyway—something you heard has always been a part of him. Something you couldn’t imagine dealing with for too long, even casually. It certainly wasn’t your taste, and under different circumstances, you’d no sooner fall for him outside of these walls than you would now.

But above all of the boundaries, restrictions, and pep-talks you give yourself, is the simple fact that you aren’t the day-one nurse he once knew. Now, you have a backbone and don’t hesitate to remind him.

“You’re such a flirt, Patient Gojo.” You make sure to catch his eye when you say it, “But compliments only get you so far.”

Patient. 

It hangs in the air. Brisk and stale. A bit sour on the tip of your tongue. And acid in his ears.

With that, Gojo sits back, resting his cheek on a propped-up arm, gaze long and longing. Breathing slow as he thinks and nerves buzz between you two. Then his request comes, simple and direct.

“How about sushi? Raw and fresh.” And a psych ward delicacy.

He’s the only patient in the entire facility with such privilege—envy-worthy and used to his heart’s content. With full-scale unlimited access to all the gourmet treats and fine dining he could ever want, his meals are often better than the ones you bring to work. Gojo is above common hospital dishes, of course, and his indulgent appetite would accept nothing less. 

But it wasn’t just about the food, no, negotiating that was too easy and barely worth mentioning.

This is a conveniently constant reminder that he is still capable of influencing things and making decisions with ease, from those he’s allowed to have access to him, down to his choice of meal.

It intrigues you. How he subdues himself to the masses but finds meaning in smaller wins. What he finds significant.

But none of that mattered right now, you’d finally been given an order and another win, even if it felt like pulling teeth. For now, it’s time to feed him and let him believe whatever he wants.

You pick up his tray from this morning, scanning the room to make sure no cutlery or dishes are missing. “Sushi it is,” you wink and call to be let out.

None of his staff are allowed the room key as a preventative measure to keep his chances of escaping to a minimum. As if a door would stop him but a key does exist and you’ve only seen it on the day the Director introduced you two, and it looked nothing like the keys used for other rooms. 

When you come back with lunch, Gojo grows curious. Noticing how your body has relaxed over time, getting used to his presence every time you come in. Little nuisances like how you breathe a little easier in his space and sometimes smile with your eyes when he tells a stupid joke. The air is…changing. He wonders just how comfortable have you gotten?

“Finally back? I started to miss you.” It’s light but he can’t possibly resist testing the waters. “Would you like to eat with me, pet?” And it takes everything in you to suppress a visceral reaction.

He’s on a roll with the names today and you wonder what his affections might have been like in his life before. Sure, he’s a talker and a flirt, that much is obvious, but you wonder what his actual love was like? How did he show it if he ever got to? And if so, if he ever left anybody behind?

“You know the procedure, Gojo.” You wait with the tray in hand, brushing the thoughts away. Though the temptation savor what you knew would be premium cuisine begs you to do it, you know better than to start breaking boundaries now.

He deflates, brows furrowing. “Is it…really so necessary?” He knows the answer, of course.

You gesture for him to turn around but he holds your gaze, having a little stare down like he enjoys the silent confrontation. You raise an annoyed brow. “The food’s getting cold,” and tap the tray.

“It’s sushi.”

 You huff.

He smirks before finally facing the wall, stilling his body in the tight jacket. When you’re sure he won't move, you set his food to the side and slowly approach to attach him to the latch on the wall. 

Skilled fingers reach across his waist and you have to crouch a little to glide the heavy chain towards the loop at his hip. His skin flushes at your warmth, your proximity, as he can’t help but enjoy the intimacy of the routine power shift. Even if it was a sham, it was still one he reluctantly agreed to. To play nice. To be weak. 

But this exchange, giving himself over to your authority, was oddly invigorating—like placing himself in his victim’s shoes to get a minuscule taste of his own medicine.

“Well, don’t look so happy about it,” he chuckles. Relief finds your face as you gently tug on the chain to make sure it’s secure, amusing the man towering over you.

The thoroughness is cute, all a part of a job well done and strict boundaries that drive a heavy wedge between you two. But it doesn’t bother Gojo. Because he’s certain, he knows, that your guarded walls will crumble sooner than later. All it takes is patience.

“Remember, Nurse,” he doesn’t turn around, “Power dynamics….they’re fluid.” 

And you can almost hear the wink—the implied warning living on his slick tongue that pokes and prods with every interaction and sends heat to your rosy cheeks. 

“You have a way with words, Gojo.” Again your eyes roll as you reach for the key to his restraints. The shackles fall to the ground, shrilling in the mostly empty room to allow him to feed himself.

A mix of groans and relief escapes his lips as he relishes the freedom from the stiff leather. He sighs, “Thank you, Nurse.” and rubs his tender wrists before abruptly filling your space. Nearly knocking you off your feet, but stopping just shy of your face. The monstrous chains strain against the wall, playing tug of war with the beast of a man and the florescent lights cast a spotlight on the sudden distance between you two. 

You had never been this close. 

“But don’t forget, I can turn these roles around. Anytime.”

Twinkles play in his eyes, dazzling you with a shine so bright you can see your reflection. But you also see the unhinged nature behind them just as easily as he sees the quiver of your lip feeling his breath graze the curve of your neck and raise goosebumps on your skin.

This isn’t just idle banter. It’s a stark reminder of Gojo’s capabilities that you had grown comfortable enough to forget. That you thought maybe you had become the exception to. 

As he steps back and leans against the wall he could’ve torn down, there’s an unmistakable silence filling with tension. Hot and sharp like pins and needles. But instead of pushing you to run for the hills, to quit while you’re ahead and savor what’s left of the life you know, for once, your unrelenting mind dares to wonder where this twisted ballet will go.  

It kills you to admit that their is something interesting about cat-and-mouse game he thinks you’re playing. Just as his affections have grown, your thoughts push you to imagine what could happen if you were actually…caught..

It’s idiotic, you know. You don’t need a sign telling you not to play with your life.

This is Satoru fucking Gojo, for Godsake. The murderer. The villain. A literal stain on the face of humanity. 

Forget about what he may have been before. You never saw that Gojo, and he’ll never be seen again. 

Your motto has always been that everyone is redeemable—but these types, Gojo’s type, are so beyond saving that it feels more like babysitting than redeeming a mentally unstable murderous toddler who could destroy a city in seconds.

Even for a man who speaks so carelessly, but teases a sugary-sweet tongue, it’s easy to see how and why he ended up here. Life had made him an example.

Proving that too much of a good thing will always spoil.

And as you watch him turn a wink and begin to casually snack on his meal, completely unconcerned with you or your reaction or response, it’s plain to see that his “affections” spare no one. Not even you. 

You clear your throat and steady a breath. With the lightest voice you can muster, you remind him, “Empty threats are the best you can do, patient.” And turn to leave.

“I’ll be back later for your bath. Or maybe send someone else. Since you’re so excitable today.”  

He pauses. “Oh?”

Is that a challenge?

His laugh echoes around the room like something out of a cartoon, fading away just as quickly as it came. He leans back, hair blending into the wall as he licks bits of rice off his thumbs—gaze sharp despite the jest. 

Because the stakes are clear and you’re both aware. 

But in case you don’t know the consequences he asks, “Do I seem threatened to you?” 

You shift your weight. If Gojo is anything, he’s always playful. The man does not have a serious bone in his body, which makes him damn near intolerable sometimes, but it’s something you’re used to it. But not this tone. This tone has rocks in it, hard and heavy as he calls your bluff. 

“Because my threats—,” he continues eating, “—are never empty.” He pops the last roll into his mouth. “You sure you wanna do this?” 

There’s no denying the chill running up your spine at those words—playing out like casual banter over lunch instead of the battle royale it was.

As if the question were rhetorical, he adds, “Okay but like,” and coughs up another laugh, as if finding the entire idea ridiculous. “Who’d be dumb enough to replace you?”

To feed or not to feed? Now was a chance to bail out.

“Don’t worry about that.” And you don’t as you call to the guard, hoping to catch your break on time. “Just behave yourself.” Gojo would keep you here playing 20 questions all day if he could.    

A bemused smile settles on his face and he shakes his head at your antics. 

You were becoming increasingly enjoyable to interact with. And steadily digging yourself into a hole. You’ve been sitting front-row to the darkness within him enough times to be sure it is, in fact, very real, but still it’s impossible to ignore that there’s something driving you to pick up the shovel. 

It isn’t just his pretty face and boyish charm. No.

It’s like he wants to get under your skin. In the best way.

Yeahhhh, this death wish is turning you every way but loose.

It’s silly, so stupid to even think about. Giving Gojo a smidge of an inch just because you feel there may be something more. Like there’s depth to his pretty words and clashing ways. Who's to say any of it is “real” anyway? He is insane after all. 

Your mind and the door shut behind you, and you turn to peer at him through the small window. A mischievous yet bored look rests on his face. 

You think you actually will send someone else. Just to show him what happens when he crosses the line. To reinforce business and boundaries. 

You could also use a break yourself—Gojo is starting to feel… claustrophobic these days and if you aren’t careful who knows what could happen. 

“Choose wisely,” came his voice from within the room,. “Every move you make counts. And cheating has consequences.” Footsteps approach the door. “You may think tagging out is all it takes to avoid our game, but let me tell you something…” He stops. “...you underestimate how quickly I can escape confinement before I’m noticed.”

And suddenly, this isn’t just a game anymore. And Gojo isn’t just some harmless tease.

Your throat is too tight to swallow and you fidget with your lanyard as if responding to his words. 

Of course, he’s capable of breaking free. That’s not what’s worrying. But if it was because of you poking the bear, you trying to get on even ground with him and have the upper hand, would you be responsible if he did?

“No matter where they send you or who they send instead—” And Gojo’s comment makes it crystal clear. 

“—I promise you, you’ll end up right back here.”

extended angel's note: first and foremost, just to give credit where credit is due, this is a chatbot i turned into a short story🧍🏾‍♀️. it was actually my first time dicking around with janitor a.i. back in like...april? and i came across this gojo bot with a suuuuper interesting prompt. [all of the prompt idea and calibration credit goes to the original creator.] i didn’t decide to actually get serious and start creating a story until around the end of part 2 - i realized i was having too much fun and was in too deep 🙇🏾‍♀️. SO after my decision to indulge madness, i didn't want to run up 10000 messages on janitor a.i. and decided to create the rest of the story on my own from there.  everything after the prompt are my own words and i've had to weave every last bit of part 1 and 2 into a coherent story but everything afterwards is all me.

you can find the chatbot and play around with it yourself here but i strongly recomment doing so after finishing this short - think of it as a choose your own adventure afterwards in case you want my head on a stick after the ending 🤠.

tags list p.1: @reddiamondjazz @blkkizzat @kiwismoother @rune1920 @suguwife

@xerroe @enthyn @gloomuri671 @startatdawn @heijihatsutori

@inluvkai @ixqiix @strawnanamilk @rosso-seta @05-simply-06-simping

@sims-4lifers @bratidol @hyunsuks-beanie @luna-v-roiya @neteyamsluvr111

@supsiii @natadecoco30 @chiyokoemilia @ririoutspoken @kyoxko

@strawberrymilkshakes-posts @nen-nyy @cinnamorochiroll @kazeniya @maybe7tommorow

[onlyonewoman]

Current AO3 news from Facebook group:

ADMIN: “Just a few things. Yes, the attacks are still happening so site availability will be spotty at best. This is NOT an attack on the actual content. All stories, user data, etc are safe. DDOS attacks basically overwhelm the servers with requests to the point they cannot handle the load and failover. DDOS attacks last until one of two things happens, either the person/group gets bored and moves on to a new target. Or the site owner finds a way to fortify the servers against the attack. That means this could last for a while. With that in mind, let's all try to keep the panic, humorous or otherwise to a minimum. It's annoying and frustrating, certainly, but it's not the end of the world. The site will eventually be back, it's just going to take time and patience.” In short: - Our content is safe. - Our user data, stories etc are safe. - It’s a DDOS attack meaning it’s basically an attempt at overwhelming the servers, meaning: - DON’T KEEP REFRESHING THE AO3 PAGE!!! - It will last for a while, but there is no need to panic. Copied from one of the reblogs: “To simplify:A DoS or DDoS attack is analogous to a group of people crowding the entry door of a shop, making it hard for legitimate customers to enter, thus disrupting trade and losing the business money.” Also, YES, KEEP REBLOGGING to let people know! The less of us trying to reload the page the better! In the meantime, this is basically me:

Edit again, because this little post got a life of its own and now I feel like Pippin lighting the beacon of Minas Tirith :D

UPDATE AROUND 18:30~ish CET:

YAY!

[thefanficcup]

DC/DP Constantine Bingo

When Danny gets crowned High King he gets loaded with mountains of paperwork all because of one John Constantine. So instead of dealing with it he turns Constantine's sold soul pieces into a currency for favors from the King. (Claming John's soul for himself to end all debates)

Then because Constantine will likely continue to sell his soul carelessly Danny makes an official decree that anyone who wants can create a 5 by 5 grid of beings/situations/etc. John will se his soul to and send it to Clockwork to officially enter the bingo, creating a realms wide bingo with prices. Along with this comes a ruling that of John comes to you and wish to sell his soul in return for a favor that you can do, you must accept, preventing people from cheating.

~~~

This of course makes John very paranoid. It suddenly got very easy to trade his soul and many beings even seemed eager to do it. Despite them knowing it would not give them the ownership of his soul.

~~~

What happens when Danny receives an update on the bingo, in the form of a green postit-note, in the middle of a dinner at Wayne manor.

It could either be a meet your partners family dinner or a adopted danny dinner.

Anyway now he either has to come clean about being a ghost, the ghost king, or make up a story about befriending ghosts and getting invited to the bingo that way.

Bonus points if Danny name dropps Constantine without knowing that the Wayne's are the bats and that John had shared his paranoia with his coworkers.

~~~

I am not a writer but if you like this and want to write it your self, be my guest, just tag me so I can read it👻👻

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (11)

ー☆ Chapter 11: Alkaline

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: none, just a load of fluff hehet ー☆ Word count: 9k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Aaand the new chapter is here! Hi lovelies, as promised, no more waiting a month for updates. I am so excited to hear what you thought of this chapter as OMG was I dying writing it LOL. I didn't think it would turn out to be my favorite, but here we are...there's a lot of realizations happening in this chapter ahaha. I hope you enjoy it and please listen to Alkaline before or while reading this story, however for once, I think it would be smart to listen to it before as...this is a little insight...but the lyrics reflect Mingi's thoughts so well, so keep that in mind too!^^ I hope you enjoy and lmk what you've thought of chapter 11! <3

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf @hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380 @xciiiomwliah @vixensss @catchingskzzzs @tesssaurrr @ginger-mingi

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

            Staring up at the unknown building as the Honda’s engine got cut off, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. I pouted as I craned my neck to look up through the window at the not too tall structure, wondering where in the hell we were. I heard Mingi unbuckle his seatbelt and then snort, making me look over at him.

“You look like your parents forgot it’s Christmas and didn’t buy you a present.” He noted, making my pout deepen as that sort of has happened when I was a lot younger compared to now.

“I only have a mom…” Mingi’s face fell for a second as I sighed, crossing my arms in front of my chest, “Where are we?”

“Uh,” Mingi gulped, cheeks tinged red as he averted his eyes, “my place.”

A beat of silence passed as my eyebrows furrowed. I unbuckled my seatbelt and threw another glare at Mingi, “But I said I didn’t want to go home.”

“Exactly,” Suddenly, he was beaming as he faced me again, “and so, I didn’t take you to your home! It’s my home.”

Well, he’s got the spirit but his logic was faulty. I pursed my lips, suddenly curious of what his place looked like, the alcohol having dissipated from my body, preventing me from being a whiney child that was inconveniencing Mingi, not that he seemed too irked by my previous behavior at the pub.

“What about your parents?”

“What about them?” Mingi chuckled, opening his side of the door, “I live on my own, come on.”

I huffed and opened my door as well, feeling a small blush spread onto my cheeks. Was I seriously about to go inside Mingi’s apartment in the middle of the night? And why did I not find the idea alarming or repulsive? There must be something very wrong with me if I willingly follow him up to his apartment without creating even the smallest fuss, “Will you just stand there all night?”

I narrowed my eyes at Mingi and crossed my arms as I closed his Honda’s door, finally letting him lock his car as he chuckled, “I wanted to do something fun.”

“Well, doll, most places are already closed in our little town.” He said with a shrug, placing an arm against the side of the car, leaning his weight on it, “But I guess we could hang out at a convenience store like raunchy teenagers or something—”

“No, that’s outdated!” I cut him off, eyebrows furrowing at the stupid idea. I was well past the age of hanging out in front of convenience stores and causing trouble. Mingi sighed, pushing off the car as he walked around it, approaching me with a gentle expression on his face. I gulped and fixed my posture, pushing my hair behind my shoulders as I suddenly felt nervous due to our proximity. What has gotten into me? The memory of his lips pressing against the corner of my mouth was rather fresh in my mind, and I had to avert my eyes as I wasn’t used to Mingi’s platinum blonde hair yet; it made my stomach coil in a weird way.

“If you’re uncomfortable coming inside my apartment, you can say so, Y/N. I thought we are always direct with each other.” Well, he’s not wrong about that. We are direct with each other, transparent even, as long as it’s not about our feelings. I cursed myself for the direction my thoughts started straying towards and instead looked at him, feeling a little shy, and smiled.

“No, it’s good, we can go.” Mingi didn’t seem too convinced so I sighed and slowly reached out for his hand, “I want to, Mingi.”

“Great!” I have barely finished my sentence as his face lit up with happiness, thick fingers lacing with mine as he pulled me towards the entrance of the building. I chuckled as I followed after him blindly, amused by how easy it was to please this guy. He seemed to get enthusiastic about the smallest things, most frequently when things went his way. I tried to ignore the persistent flush of my cheeks as Mingi led us inside the building by our interlaced fingers and guided us towards the stairs, fishing his keys out of his jean’s pocket. We didn’t say much as we tried to be quiet, and that unfortunately allowed my mind to wander towards thoughts it shouldn’t have. Like Mingi’s tall built and how ravishing he looked in tonight’s outfit for the performance. Or the rawness of his voice whenever he closed his eyes and sung from deep within his soul. The way his nose scrunched whenever he got lost in the music as he stayed on beat while relaying the lyrics. Or the fact that his hair had gotten longer and instead of cutting it, he decided to dye it a platinum blonde which made his features sharper than I thought they were. It made my throat dry as I remembered what his body close by felt like, his warmth, the familiar cologne, the way his eyes crinkled, and crooked front teeth showed whenever he smiled too wide.

I grimaced as I slammed into Mingi’s back, instantly flushing even more as he looked over his shoulder with a chuckle. We have arrived in front of a white door with the numbers 18 on it, and so lost in my thoughts, I failed to notice that Mingi had stopped as he was trying to unlock the door. As if lightning zapped me, I released his hand and cleared my throat, running my fingers through my hair. Was it a smart idea coming here if I couldn’t even control my own thoughts?

“Welcome to my little lair.” Mingi’s voice held amusement as he pushed the door open and stepped aside, letting me enter first. I thanked him quietly and gulped as I mustered up any final courage that I needed to not run back down the stairs and hail a cab, and entered his apartment. It was dark, but only for a second as Mingi’s hand reached for the light switch, and then the door was closed behind us, locked and secured, making my heart race as we were now on our own, in the confines of his safe haven, “Don’t mind the mess, I didn’t expect visitors tonight.”

He seemed a little embarrassed as he stepped out of his boots, rubbing the back of his head as I followed his lead and untied my own boots, glad to have them off my feet—they were rather heavy. He leaned down to fetch us flip flops, and I smiled as he pushed one towards me before he wore his. The flip flops were a tad bit bigger than my own feet, but it wasn’t difficult to walk around in them. Mingi seemed to fiddle with his fingers for a second before he walked towards his sofa, grabbing the blanket off it to fold it nicely and place it back on it neatly. The living room space and kitchen were one big room. The walls were white and the floorboards light, the window open as the white curtains were pulled aside to let in the chilly air of the night. A TV on a stand was placed underneath the window, a huge plant in the left corner of the room, and an electric piano in the right corner, the wall above it lined with shelves and a ton amount of books and mangas that I had no idea how Mingi managed to store there—the place was rather small and stuffed. I didn’t allow my eyes to linger on the framed pictures, but it was hard to mistake the familiar photo of Yunho and Mingi hugging when I’ve seen it so many times before. Then, not too far from the TV, a coffee table and a sofa were placed facing it, and Mingi scrambled around to gather a few empty soda cans off the coffee table, shooting me an apologetic smile as he rushed to the kitchen’s side, throwing them away into the trashcan. His kitchen was small but cozy, the cupboards a dark wooden color, looking rather nice. The table was round and spacious, Mingi’s laptop and notebooks strewn across it, as well as some forgotten croissant that looked a bit too old to eat. I noticed the wall to my right was decorated with framed records and snippets of lyrics from probably his favorite artists, and I smiled as I noticed a quote that I knew too well, ‘Art is a line around your thoughts’.

“I had no idea you knew Gustav Klimt?” I muttered bewildered, walking towards the piece of paper that was plastered onto the white wall. Mingi made a surprised noise, and I felt his eyes on me as I traced the words with my fingertips.

“He’s my favorite painter.” Mingi answered with a chuckle, making my eyes widen as I faced him. How come he’s never mentioned that before? I didn’t even think for one second he enjoyed fine art like I did.

“Really?” I sounded a little breathless as Mingi smiled warmly, shrugging off his jacket, which had me forgetting all about Gustav Klimt as my eyes fell on his bare biceps. Fuck, I can’t be checking him out again. He’s just a man and he’s got arms like everyone else, and it’s not like I haven’t seen muscles before. Why must I act like a Victorian man when he sees ankles?! This was rather embarrassing, and much to my dread, I knew Mingi saw me checking him out again as an amused smirk sneaked onto his lips, one eyebrow raised.

“Really.” He answered, voice a few octaves deeper and I crossed my arms in front of my chest, giving him a challenging look. If he was so confident in himself, shouldn’t he call me out for salivating after him all night? Make me more embarrassed or something, “I’m kind of fed up with these clothes, would you like to change into something more comfortable?”

I hummed and nodded, shrugging off my own leather jacket, not oblivious to the way Mingi’s eyes widened slightly, the flush on his cheeks instant. I tried to stifle a giggle as I tied my hair in a low bun, giving him a soft smile, “Do you mind if I also shower? I’ve danced around all night long…”

“Sure, no problem!” Mingi’s voice was higher pitched and it sounded panicked for a second as he scrambled inside another room, which upon flooded with light proved to be his bedroom. I caught myself grinning widely and then instantly frowned, trying to calm my nervous heartbeat as I watched Mingi throw open a huge closet and rummage through it. The prospect of having to wear his clothes dawned on me just now, and I felt like sticking my head out the window for the cool air to calm my flushed cheeks. I feel like I’ve been blushing ever since I stepped out of his car, and that was embarrassing. These emotions and thoughts were very unlike me, the last time I remember being like this was when…I had that stupid crush on Yunho. A lump seemed to form in my throat at the sudden thought of Yunho, skin crawling now that I realized I was standing in his best friend’s apartment, very probably about to have a sleepover with him. But Mingi and I were friends, there was nothing weird about hanging out at one’s place and spending the night over too. If it would have been weird or inappropriate, Mingi wouldn’t have brought me over. It was weird to realize just now that I completely trusted him and felt safe around him, not having to wonder whether his motives were genuine or not.

Mingi suddenly appeared in the doorway of his room clearing his throat as he glanced down at the clothes in his hands, “I, uh, I hope these will fit you.”

“Thank you.” I smiled as I walked over, feeling my heart go crazy as it started beating even faster, making me so embarrassed I wanted to hide away for an eternity. Mingi avoided eye contact, which was good because I couldn’t handle it at the moment, as he handed me over the clothes and then led me towards a closed door, turning on the light for me.

“There’s clean towels in the cupboard and some make-up remover too.” When I gave Mingi a questioning gaze, completely forgetting that he liked to wear eye makeup, he quickly scrambled to explain himself, “Oh, you know…sometimes Seonghwa sleeps over and he’s always wearing make-up so he left it here for me, since…I also wear some at times…”

“Right.” I chuckled, feeling silly for having Mingi explain such insignificant thing, but unfortunately, my thoughts had strayed to different scenarios, and I was a little irritated for feeling reassured upon hearing his explanation, “I won’t take long, promise.”

Mingi hummed and I quickly hurried inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind myself hastily as I leaned against it and released a long breath I didn’t realized I had been holding. God, it was becoming more and more difficult to behave like a normal being. There was no reason for my heart to race like this, nor was there any reason to be nervous around Mingi. I was merely spending the night, and it was going to be fun, since we’re friends.

            True to my word, I quickly cleaned up, rather pleased upon seeing so many skincare products in Mingi’s cupboard; it’s always nice when a man takes care of himself and cleans up well. The fact that I had to shower with the body wash Mingi uses, and afterwards wear his clothes that had the familiar scent of the softener he uses was…challenging to digest, but because I didn’t want to spiral into a full-blown panic attack, I decided to ignore it, and analyze it another time—when I was preferably alone and not in Mingi’s bathroom. The grey sweatpants he had given me were, obviously, way too big, but he was thoughtful enough to give me one that had strings and I could tie them securely around my hips, the white t-shirt, as expected again, loose around my body, making me look smaller than I was. I have never felt small before in men’s clothing, and it was contrasting with how I have always looked when wearing Yunho’s clothes.

After having walked out of the bathroom, before I could say much, Mingi stormed past me inside the bathroom too, muttering something about not taking long either and that I could drink some water and snack on the chips he had placed on the coffee table. Deciding to wait for him in the living room, on the sofa, I texted my mother that I would be back in the morning as I decided to sleep over at a friend’s house, purposefully leaving out Mingi’s name as I knew she’d go crazy with her questions. I could only hope she wouldn’t text Seulgi, who knew where I actually was.

Mingi, done in under ten minutes, had a towel around his head—much like when he had showered at my place—and I watched from the sofa with big eyes as he opened the bathroom’s door, humming absentmindedly as he struggled to wear his flip flops. I gulped, unable to stop my eyes from raking over his body as he started towel drying his hair, still oblivious to my insistent staring. He wore khaki-colored sweatpants and a loose grey t-shirts, its sleeves reaching just above his elbows and the end past his waistline. His black tinged nails were rather contrasting against the white towel he had finally lowered from his head, and he jumped when he saw me looking, as if he had forgotten that I was here.

“Hi.” I muttered with a giggle, completely ignoring the fact that I was blushing again. Mingi froze for a second before he grinned widely, shaking the platinum hair out of his eyes. It was still damp as it fell flatly against his head, the ends poking out in different directions at his nape.

“Let’s go to bed?” Mingi suggested, sounding rather unsure as I hummed and stood up, wearing my flip flops as he placed the towel on the back of a chair and then switched off the lights, leading the way to his bedroom as I shuffled after him, heartbeat once again starting to pick up its rhythm. I placed my hands behind my back and fidgeted with my fingers, hoping Mingi wouldn’t pick up on my nervousness as he switched on the bedside lamp, clearing his throat as he turned to face me. For some reason, he couldn’t hold eye contact, and so, I took advantage of that and quickly checked out his room. It was simple, much like the rest of the apartment, with its walls white and floorboards light in color, a black fluffy rug placed under his double-sized bed, which was right across from the door. There was a black closet to the left, with a beanbag pressed to the corner and three guitars lined up against the wall. To the right, however, as you entered his room, was a large desk with equipment that he probably used for recording his songs, notebooks laying open with a half-eaten burger in a plate next to them. A few more pictures were hung up on the wall, but I quickly averted my eyes out of fear of spotting Yunho again.

“Uh, so…” Mingi rubbed the back of his head, looking down at the bed before he sneaked a glance at me, “I could sleep in the living room if you don’t want to share a bed with me.”

“Yeah, that’s cool with me.” I said in a serious tone, watching as Mingi paused for a second, looking surprised that I was about to make him sleep on the sofa. But to my surprise, he said nothing else as he went to pick up his pillow, making me chuckle, “I’m just fucking with you, Mings, you don’t have to sleep on the sofa, it looks uncomfortable for a tall person either way. It’s not my first time sleeping next to a guy, you know…”

Mingi chuckled, trying to hide his face as he turned around, his cheeks slightly flushed, “Ah, right, I forgot you had a dickhead boyfriend that made you hate men—”

“That’s not completely true.” I cut him off, crossing my arms in front of my chest defensively, “I mean, he was a dickhead, but it’s not just his fault, you know.”

It felt weird bashing Yunho all of a sudden, especially since Mingi was unknowingly talking about his best friend. I didn’t want him to say something that he’d regret if he ever were to find out my ex is his best friend, it just didn’t feel right.

“You really think all men are like that, huh?” Mingi raised an eyebrow as he pulled the covers back and plopped down on his bed, bouncing on the mattress as he stared at me expectantly. I gulped and shuffled closer, feeling nervous again as his eyes were glued to my form, perhaps lingering a bit too much on the t-shirt and sweatpants I was wearing. I slowly sat on his bed, struggling to breath regularly as Mingi’s familiar scent was even stronger now, vanilla mixed with something flowery, the softener he used, no doubt. If anyone would’ve told me two months ago that I’d be sharing a bed with Mingi, in his apartment, I would’ve laughed in their face and suggested a visit to the psychic ward. But right now, it was as real as it could get, and I subtly had to pinch my arm to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, or hallucinating in a drunken stupor. But I wasn’t drunk anymore, hadn’t been for a while now, and the shower too made sure to sober me up completely. My alcohol tolerance was pretty good, and the key for me to remain drunk was continuously drinking, once I stopped, an hour tops and I was all sobered up no matter how much I had drunk previously.

“Most are.” I muttered as I shimmied my bare feet underneath the cold covers, hiding them underneath as they always got cold rather quickly. Mingi chuckled as he adjusted himself as well, pulling up the covers to our waists as he turned his head to look over at me. Silence settled over us and I chewed on my bottom lip, watching from the corner of my eyes as his eyes bore into the side of my face as he bit the inside of his cheek. He seemed to be mulling over something as he raised his left hand and rubbed at his chin, pressing his fingers against his lip. Overwhelmed with the memory of his lips pressing so close to mine, I flopped backwards and prayed for the covers of his bed to swallow me up and hand me over to the monster underneath his bed. But that, obviously, didn’t happen as Mingi gulped rather loudly, laying down too on his side as he first adjusted the covers, pulling it up to our chests.

“Well, I suppose we’re both tired.” He whispered and I hummed, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart as the room was suddenly coated into darkness as Mingi switched the lamp off. I released a long breath as quietly as I could as Mingi lay on his back, mirroring my position, as we stared up at his dark ceiling. He raised his hands and intertwined them as he let them rest over his chest, and I raised one arm and placed it over my head as I started twirling a strand of my hair. I couldn’t lay still and I feared Mingi could hear the annoying way my heart was racing, making me feel too warm under the thick covers. His scent was too strong like this, and as I turned my head to the right, facing away from Mingi, I was alarmed to find the pillow smelling strongly of the guy laying next to me in bed. Mingi sighed, although I suppose he meant to do it silently as he stuttered mid-breath and paused, making me chew on my bottom lip as I tried not to laugh. Everything about this was so awkward, it made my skin crawl as I couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know,” I spoke up, voice shaky for some reason, and I felt Mingi’s head turn as he looked at me despite the darkness of the room, “I never asked why your band name is Noir Zenith.”

“Yeah, you didn’t,” Mingi chuckled, making me raise my eyebrows as I turned my head to look at him, “you were too busy shitting on me to care about something so insignificant.”

“I—that’s not—” I groaned and Mingi snickered as I closed my eyes, pressing the heel of my palm into them, “Okay, you’re right. And that was rather assholey of me, so—now I’m genuinely interested.”

“Wow,” Mingi breathed, grinning from ear to ear as I opened my eyes, finding his beaming with something I couldn’t exactly understand, “you actually admitted to being an asshole to me?!”

“I’m not saying it again, so savour it while you can, pretty boy—” Massive fuck. The silence that settled upon us again was mortifying and I turned my head away, contemplating about rolling out of his bed and walking myself over to the sofa to sleep on for the night. I couldn’t face Mingi, and maybe it was better as his tone was laced with smugness and excitement.

“Pretty boy, huh?” He snickered, and I groaned loudly for him to hear, “First you admit I’m hot, then that I’m somewhat attractive, and now that I’m a pretty boy?! I feel like I’m living every man’s dream over here—”

“I think I have asked you a question, Song Mingi.” I snapped as I turned to lay on my side to face him, eyes narrowed at a smirking Mingi, only making him look smugger than he was before, “Don’t change the subject.”

“It’s a little hard when a gorgeous girl calls me pretty boy—” I groaned loudly, pressing my hands against my ears as Mingi started cackling, kicking his legs as if he was a little boy. My eyebrows furrowed as I gave him an incredulous look, making him giggle as he suddenly turned onto his side too, coming face to face with me. I gasped quietly, our faces just a little bit too close for comfort, but Mingi quickly shuffled slightly backwards, making me release a quiet breath as my heart was racing for the nth time at this point tonight.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop.” Mingi grinned as his left hand settled between us, laying palm down against the mattress. I could only hope he didn’t notice my eyes linger on his painted nails as his fingers were ring free for the first time since we’ve known each other, “As you might have realized, I’m the founder of the band, and despite Seonghwa, Wooyoung and I being a team, I knew what I wanted my band’s name to be before I even met them.”

I hummed as I listened closely to Mingi, resting my hands underneath my head, completely ignoring the fact that the pinkie of my right hand was lightly brushing against Mingi’s forefinger, “Noir means black in French, right? And thus, I associate it with darkness and pain, yearning for something you no longer have, loneliness, and fear. Zenith, meanwhile, means the highest point reached in the heavens by a celestial body or simply a culminating point. In the context of our band’s name, however, I use it as the highest point of when you feel hurt, when the darkness gets to you, the point where it feels like there’s no return anymore, that nothing and nobody can help you anymore. The first song I ever wrote—you know it, you’ve heard it—is the lowest I’ve ever been. Ever since then, after experimenting enough, I have realized I am inspired most at my highest—or maybe some would say lowest—points, no matter what I’m feeling. I write best when I’m feeling the most…is basically what I’m trying to say. I hope I’m making sense; this is the first time besides my friends that someone’s asked what the name means…”

I took a deep breath and slowly released it, feeling an immense warmth spread through my chest, close to the feeling of adoration and admiration. I gulped, pondering whether I should do what my body desired to do, and in the end, the intrusive thoughts won over as I slowly sneaked my palm over the back of Mingi’s hand, holding onto it gently, “It makes sense, I know what you’re saying.”

I kept my eyes on our hands as I felt warm all over, too shy to suddenly look at Mingi as he lowly hummed, flipping his hand around to interlace our fingers, “When my emotions get too overwhelming, I grab my sketchbook, or a canvas, and start painting. It doesn’t matter what I’m feeling, the point is to empty my mind and let through whatever it is I’m experiencing. My goal, mostly, is to numb my mind and silence my thoughts.”

“Do you often feel overwhelmed?” Mingi’s voice was quiet, shaky a bit and my eyes snapped up, taking in his face as he was biting his lower lip, eyebrows furrowed. He looked troubled, but somehow serene at the same time, like he was thinking of something he couldn’t make sense of yet.

“Yes.” I chuckled and shrugged, absentmindedly rubbing circles against his knuckle, “My mind is a mess at all times, Mings, it takes a lot to silence it. Especially when I’m dealing with emotions that I don’t know how to navigate. I’m afraid of feeling too much because I fear it will consume me, turn me headless, and make me fall deeper into that feeling, blinding me to the faults of the other person.”

“You’re afraid to fall in love.” Mingi whispered and I gulped, never having said it out loud before, but also never having had anyone else point it out. Not even Seulgi, who knew me like the back of her hand. I nodded, our gazes meeting as Mingi had an understanding look in his eyes, as if he knew the feeling.

“I hate to admit it, but I’m afraid of many things.” I muttered, lightening the atmosphere as Mingi chuckled, giving a squeeze to my hand as I hid my face in the pillow, giggling quietly.

“I knew you were just trying to impress people with your fearless bravado.” Mingi teased, narrowing his eyes playfully as I scoffed.

“But I am fearless, it seems like you don’t know me too well.” I raised my eyebrows at Mingi as he gasped, feigning hurt, “Impressing others is the last thing on my mind.”

“Perhaps,” Mingi hummed, suddenly turning serious and making my cheeks heat up with the intense way he was looking at me, “but you certainly know how to leave an impression on someone.”

I paused, mouth opening to say something, but I found myself speechless. Instead, I felt myself blush harder, and I was thankful for the darkness as I knew Mingi couldn’t see the degree of my deep blush despite being close to my face, “Also, you’ve started calling me Mings. I actually love that nickname; Yunho sometimes calls me that.”

Yunho. Something coiled deep in my heart again as the lump was back in my throat and I hummed, gently untangling our hands as I turned back onto my back, running my fingers through my hair. Mingi didn’t move, eyes boring into the side of my face with a confused look in his eyes. I tried not to withdraw myself, but it was hard when I was reminded that the two were best friends, “The little dirt you always have on your cheekbone when you perform—”

“It’s my signature!” Mingi groaned loudly, flopping back onto his back like a child as he kicked with his legs again. I chuckled and bit my lower lip, suddenly realizing that teasing him was rather hilarious.

“It says ‘Fix on’, why?” I giggled as I interlaced my hands behind my nape, resting my head on them.

“Ah, so you have seen it?” Mingi paused for dramatic effect and I nodded, curious to hear his answer, “Well, it’s a lot sillier than the name of our band. I suppose it’s something I wish for others to do, to focus on me when I’m up on the stage, to fixate on me, you know?”

“Sounds like something you’d want, yes.” I muttered, and felt Mingi painlessly kick at my ankle under the convers, making me laugh, “What? You love attention, Mingi, and you can’t even deny it.”

“Well, fine.” Mingi huffed and I glanced at him from the corner of my eyes to see him pouting, “Is that so bad?!”

“Of course not,” I chuckled, turning my head as I fought the glare of my face as my thoughts wandered back to the chick that’s been all over him all night long, “except when you can’t set clear boundaries with your baboons, you know?”

A laugh bubbled past Mingi’s lips, shaking him as my eyebrows furrowed, not finding what I said funny at all, “I still can’t believe you call our fangirls baboons.”

“It’s what they are.” I muttered under my breath with a grimace, turning my head as Mingi suddenly turned his to face me.

“Well, they are nice and they’ve actually helped us become more well-known,” Mingi explained, sounding rather grateful, making me feel bad that I couldn’t stand them, “So, I’m grateful to them.”

“Especially to the blonde one that always clings to you—” I realized my slip up when it was already too late as I felt Mingi press up onto his elbow, leaning a bit over my body as I refused to look at him.

“Doll, besides knowing her name and what she looks like, I have no idea who she is.” He said, eyebrows furrowed as his eyes bore into mine, “And I have no intentions of getting to know her past that level. Like you said, boundaries exist, and I’ve made mine clear with her.”

“That’s why she dies at the sight of you, and is all over you whenever she can.” I huffed and Mingi sighed, reaching out with his left hand as he adjusted my hair, making me freeze.

“I don’t like her.” Hearing him say that made my heart skip a beat, and I averted my eyes, feeling rather pleased to hear him say that, “She’s not the type of girl I’m into.”

I wanted to know what type of girls he was into, but before I could let my tongue slip up again, I nodded wordlessly and searched for a clock. It was on his desk, facing us, and my eyes slightly widened when I realized it was close to 3am, “Let’s go to sleep.”

“Sure.” Mingi whispered, smiling slightly as he settled back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling as I slithered my arms underneath the covers, closing my eyes. It was silent in the room once again, not awkward at all anymore, yet it felt like there was room to say more. I wanted to say more, but I was afraid I would say something that I wasn’t ready yet to voice. What would Yunho think if he knew I was with his best friend? Worst of all, what will Mingi say if he finds out I’m Yunho’s ex? I was scared of both answers, and until I was completely ready to face the consequences of my own actions, I would stall and enjoy my limited time with Mingi. My gut feeling told me it wouldn’t last for too long, the good and happy, it never did. The thoughts weighted heavy on my mind and I released a long sigh at the same time as Mingi, making the ends of my mouth curve up. Seems like I wasn’t the only one plagued with late night thoughts, unable to go to sleep just yet. Deciding that it wouldn’t work with my head so full and my skin still buzzing from being this close to Mingi, in his clothes, in his bed, surrounded by his familiar scent, I sat up abruptly.

“I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither.” I had barely finished my sentence as Mingi’s eyes flew open, looking at me with a borderline desperate expression, “Kitchen raid?”

“Kitchen raid.” I nodded and showed him a thumbs up as we hurriedly got out of bed, apparently making it a race of who would reach the kitchen first as Mingi failed to wear his flip flops, rushing after me as I yanked his door open with a giggle, and toppled outside as he tried to yank me back by the t-shirt I was wearing. Knocking into my side—but gently—Mingi passed me and cackled mockingly as he reached the round table first, giving me a smug look.

“Did you think you could race me in my own apartment and win?” For a second, I saw Yunho in him as he stood grinning as if this victory meant anything. Yunho was insanely competitive, making everything a game while we were together, often times exhausting me with them; they weren’t my favourite activity. Suddenly, the room was flooded with light as Mingi switched it on.

“What do you have, pretty boy?” I decided to speak up and ignore his teasing, pushing thoughts of Yunho to the back of my mind as a thoughtful look crossed Mingi’s face.

“Well, if you’re hungry we can whip up some eggs or like make a sandwich?” He rubbed the back of his head, not looking too confident, “Or, uh, maybe we could drink something?”

“As long as it’s not alcohol, sure, I’m not hungry either way.” I said as I walked further inside the kitchen, making Mingi’s eyebrows furrow as he turned and walked towards the sink, opening the cupboard above it. He rummaged around and I decided to sit on the counter, swinging my legs as I placed my hands underneath my thighs.

“I have hot chocolate!” Mingi exclaimed in triumph, and I chuckled as he turned around with a grin, holding two plastic bags containing chocolate powder.

“I’d like one serving then, kind sir.” I bowed my head mockingly, making Mingi’s eyebrows raise.

“You’re rather generous with nicknames tonight, Y/N.” He gave me a teasing look as I rolled my eyes, “Is it just the alcohol talking, perhaps?”

“I’m not drunk, Mingi.” I chuckled, watching him move around the kitchen, grabbing mugs and pouring water into them to heat up, “I have a high tolerance.”

“But you were drunk when you were dancing with that guy.” Mingi muttered, grimacing as I narrowed my eyes at him.

“I was tipsy, and I quite enjoyed dancing with Chan before you decided to bother us.” I pursed my lips, giving him a pointed look as he stole a glance at me while placing the mugs in the microwave to heat the water up.

“I don’t have whipping cream.” He said as he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms in front of his chest as the microwave hummed quietly. I couldn’t help but smile as he remembered how I liked serving my hot chocolate.

“It’s fine, I think it would be too sweet right now.” I said as Mingi nodded, his gaze becoming intense again as he watched me sit on his counter. I cleared my throat and looked away, pulling my hands from underneath my thighs to cross them over my body in a comforting manner.

“Well, when guys usually dance with you, they want something more too, you know?” Mingi’s voice had dropped a few octaves, and I looked over with narrowed eyes as the microwave dinged.

“Then do you want something more from me too?” I fired back, giving him a displeased look, “You danced with me too, not just Chan.”

Mingi froze as he had just opened the microwave’s little door, eyebrows furrowing as he shot me an unimpressed glance, “What I wanted was for you to be safe and not taken advantage of, Y/N.”

I gulped, suddenly feeling guilty as Mingi looked slightly hurt by my assumption as he took the mugs from the microwave, and closed the little door a little harsher. I couldn’t help but remember the near kiss, and wonder if he hadn’t done it because he thought I was drunk. I bit my bottom lip as I sighed, watching Mingi’s back as he poured the powder into the warm water.

“I—I didn’t mean to assume anything like that, I’m sorry.” I spoke up, licking my lips as Mingi still hadn’t faced me despite reaching for a teaspoon to stir our drinks, “I know you wouldn’t take advantage of me and were only looking out for me, but Chan was just happy to meet someone that was his senior and shared his major.”

Mingi turned as he grabbed the mugs and then approached me, “I guess we have both overreacted tonight, then.”

“Yes.” I chuckled and took the mug he handed me, “Thank you.”

We took a sip of our hot chocolates in unison, humming at the sweet taste bloomed on our tastebuds, giving each other a pleased nod as I took one more sip, blowing on it slightly as it was too warm, “Since we’re already speaking about it, what did you think of our performance?”

I lowered the mug from my lips and watched as Mingi took another sip, a rather large one, not afraid of burning his tongue, “I think you were really good, all three of you. Like I have once said before, the three of you work well together, your voices blending in a way I haven’t heard before. It’s really beautiful, actually, you capture your audience since the very first note you play.”

Mingi hid the huge smile stretching onto his lips behind his mug, averting his eyes shyly, “What did you think of the lyrics? I’ve written the song around two years ago.”

It was my time to look away shyly, my quick heartbeat not foreign anymore at this point, “They were—poetic, almost. I find your lyrics deep and—genuine, like anyone could relate to it, and I think that’s not something you achieve easily. But I mean, what do I know, I’m just a fine arts major.”

Mingi chuckled as he took another sip of his hot chocolate, and then placed the mug on the counter, resting his left hand close to my knee as he leaned his hip against the edge of the surface. I took a small sip as I tried to stop my eyes from checking him out again, but it seemed rather hard as this was the first time I’ve seen Mingi in casual clothing, looking comfortable, and rather soft. It was weird, but somehow, he looked really good, and I felt myself flush at my own thoughts, averting my eyes as Mingi raised an eyebrow questioningly, “I appreciate all feedback, music major or not, after all, you are also part of my audience. And what matters to me most, is how my audience perceives my music and lyrics, if the message I want them to hear goes through.”

“Don’t fret over it so much, Mings.” I chuckled, holding the mug with both hands as I lowered it into my lap, “The crowd loves you, and it was pretty packed down there tonight. You’ll make it big one day, have more faith in yourself.”

Mingi bit his bottom lip, his hand lightly brushing against my knee, “Hongjoong is a very influential person in our world, he’s even composed music before, so sometimes he stops by to help. He’s working on signing us up with a record deal, actually.”

“What?!” I exclaimed excitedly, eyes widening as Mingi fought a grin off his lips by licking them, “That is amazing, Mingi!”

“Yeah, I finally feel like I’m headed somewhere with my life.” He whispered abashed, looking down at the floor as I smiled widely, feeling happy for him. It was nice to see him so happy and excited for what was to come, coming to the sudden realization that I hated seeing Mingi hurt and mad—especially if he felt like that because of me. I didn’t want him hurting because of me, that’s not what friends do.

“I think you looked very hot tonight.” And once again, I blurted out something I didn’t mean to. Mingi’s head snapped up as he looked at me, eyes widening just a little as his eyebrows slightly twitched, he looked like a puppy somehow, it was almost alarming, “I mean, uh, your costume—it was really edgy. You know, giving rockstar vibes and whatnot.”

Mingi hummed, looking down as I took a large sip of the hot chocolate, licking my lips and averting my eyes as Mingi looked back up at me with a thoughtful look on his face. His eyebrows had slightly furrowed now, bottom lip between his teeth, and I couldn’t help but let my eyes linger on the soft looking skin. My heart had started racing for some unknown reason again as I looked back up into his eyes, gulping upon seeing Mingi’s sharp eyes become more intense, more determined that they were a second ago. My fingers tightened around the mug as I cleared my throat, waiting to see what Mingi would do next. He licked his lips and his eyes fell a little lower on my face before he slightly stepped closer, his hand pressing into my knee now, “I really want to kiss you right now, Y/N.”

I froze, feeling my muscles stiffen as he voiced his desire, my heart racing beyond the point of return, making me feel warm despite wearing a t-shirt—his t-shirt. I gulped and bit my lower lip, eyes searching his face for any signs of amusement or joke, but he was dead serious. And I was dead serious too as I pushed away all doubts and prejudices, voice breathy as our gazes bore into each other’s, “Then kiss me.”

The mug barely touched the surface of the counter when Mingi’s large palms cupped my cheeks, his eyes switching between my right and left one as I gulped, tilting my head back just a little bit. I felt nervous but excited at the same time, and my lips parted as Mingi’s lips pulled into the tiniest smile, before he finally closed the distance between our faces. His lips were warm, and soft—plush as they were slightly plumper than mine, pressing against mine gently, softly as if he didn’t want to scare me away. I appreciated his gesture big time, hearing my own heartbeats in my ears as I grabbed the sides of his t-shirt, needing to anchor myself in something. Mingi seemed to grow more confident as I pressed my lips back against his, more determined and less soft as he had been at first, his lower lip slotting between mine perfectly as I latched onto it, sucking it between my lips, making Mingi exhale through his nose, his grip on my cheeks turning firmer. My own hands released his t-shirt in order to travel up his back, gently tracing his firm muscles through his t-shirt, so that my arms could settle around his shoulders. Mingi’s right hand pressed into my lower back as I allowed him to guide me lower on the counter, welcoming him between my legs as our bodies pressed flushed together, our warmth mingling with each other as Mingi’s scent was the only thing I could smell on me and around us.

His lips tasted like mint, mingled with hot chocolate as they lazily moved against mine, taking his time to savor the kiss instead of turning it rushed and messy as I had expected him to kiss. Not that I wondered often what Mingi kissed like, but that didn’t matter anymore as this was the real deal. My skin tingled anywhere he touched, and I was grateful that I was sitting on the counter as my knees would’ve gone weak when he held the side of my neck, thumb stroking my chin every time our lips moved, covering my skin in goosebumps. I leaned up as much as I could, allowing Mingi to tilt my head back more by the hand he had on my neck, my fingers tangling into the soft platinum strands brushing against his nape. A sigh left his lips at the motion, and I nipped at his bottom lip as I felt my body awaken with a fire I have never felt before. Nobody’s kissed me like this before, so gently yet passionately at the same time, just wanting to feel everything and savour the moment for as long as possible. My hands trembled as I chased after his lips when he dared pull back even the slightest bit, capturing his bottom lip between my teeth as I bit down it, but not to the point it was hurtful, feeling painted fingernails dig into my lower back through the fabric.

Mingi’s nose nuzzled against mine as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss against my lips, making my heart swell and almost explode out of my chest as I pulled him even more into myself, to the point it was turning painful. I was sure he could feel my heartbeat against his own chest as it was frantic and making me struggle to intake any air, but that was also Mingi’s doing as he was stealing away every breath I tried to inhale. My knees locked him into place as I squeezed them against his hips, prompting Mingi’s lips to press harder against mine, more insistently. It felt like every single emotion that we tried to suppress and hide, suddenly came to the surface, speaking volumes as our lips struggled to find an even rhythm again, growing hotter and a little more rushed, desire blossoming in both of our chests. My lungs had started begging for air, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull back, to pull away from Mingi, my body welcoming him in like no one before, my mind silent for the first time when I was around someone. There were no questions or doubts running through my mind, just the endorphins that came from kissing the man I have started to adore. Finding it hard to breathe too, Mingi pulled back just barely, his lips pressing more kisses against mine as our chests heaved, trying to inhale in air, our breaths meddling as we breathed in each other’s oxygen. I felt warm all over, jittery and giddy, as Mingi’s forehead pressed against mine, making me exhale shakily as our lips brushed against each other’s just barely. He was breathing through his lips hard, both hands cupping my cheeks again as he gently rubbed his thumbs against my flushed skin.

I tried to find peace again and calm my erratic heartbeats, my eyelashes fluttering open as my gaze ran over Mingi’s elated expression, bottom lip between his teeth before he was breathing through his lips again. I admired the beauty of his perfectly shaped face, naturally sun-kissed, scars from his acne faded, some new ones redder. His tall nose looked sharper from up-close and the tip slightly turned more to the side, his cheeks flushed probably as much as mine. His mole underneath his eye was more visible now that he didn’t have any makeup on, and before I could talk down myself, I leaned my chin up and pressed a soft kiss against his beauty mark, Mingi’s breath catching in his throat. I smiled and cupped his cheeks too, his eyes fluttering open as I couldn’t help but grin widely at him. Mingi’s brown eyes were warm and shone with a glimmer that wasn’t there before, slightly teary, but before I could get worried over it, he chuckled as he pressed another chaste kiss against my lips. I smiled widely and nuzzled our noses together, feeling joy flood my body like never before.

“I don’t know about you,” Mingi whispered, voice deeper and raspier, “but I am actually sleepy now.”

I chuckled and released Mingi’s face, feeling a little disappointed when he did the same to me, “Actually, me too.”

And it wasn’t a lie, I could feel the lack of sleep finally catch up to me as Mingi’s hands rubbed at my knees for a second before he pulled back, grabbing our unfinished hot chocolates as he walked towards the sink. I hopped off the counter as he quickly washed them, drying his hands in his sweatpants as he turned to face me. I knew my cheeks were still flushed, and I feared it wouldn’t go away for a while now as my lips tingled from Mingi’s kisses, body yearning for his warmth and comforting scent. All I wanted was to curl up against his chest and hug him until he became fed up with it, wanting to feel his lips against my skin as he whispered sweet nothing into my hair, into my ears. Alarmed by my own sudden desires, I marched towards the bedroom, Mingi following after me as he flipped the light switch.

My actions were hurried as I swiftly climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin as I lay on my side, my back to Mingi as he settled in beside me, a lot calmer than me. I gulped, feeling the silence stretch on, not awkward but too silent, almost as if we should have said something. I pondered whether I should speak up and bring up the kiss, question what it meant for us, but Mingi suddenly started giggling, it becoming muffled as if he had pressed his hands against his mouth.

“What’s so funny?” I found myself asking, feeling the corners of my mouth tug up as Mingi’s deep giggles continued.

“I—” He paused, sucking in a deep breath as he made me silently laugh, “I fell on the stage, tonight. But it was dark, so nobody saw but Seonghwa.”

I couldn’t help but laugh loudly as I pressed my face into the pillow that smelled completely like Mingi, “You’re an idiot, you could’ve gotten hurt.”

“No, I could’ve completely fell on Seonghwa’s drums and ruined the performance!” His words made the both of cackle like mad people, chests shaking with laughter, and tummies hurt by the time we managed to calm down. Mingi became quiet as I chuckled one last time, mouth hurting from how widely I was smiling. Mingi took a deep breath and released it slowly, probably finally settling down, determined to sleep, “Good night.”

“Good night.” My voice was quiet and small, and I gnawed on my lower lip as I braced myself for what I was about to do. Mustering up the last pieces of my courage, I suddenly turned and raised up onto my elbows, Mingi’s eyes flying open in fright as he didn’t expect my sudden movement. I leaned over him as he was laying on his back, and pressed a swift kiss against his lips, his eyes wide as I pulled back before he could turn it into more. I quickly rolled over and pulled the covers over my head, squeezing my eyes shut as all I wanted to do was scream and kick my legs, my heart hammering like crazy against my ribcage, cheeks on fire. I felt Mingi move around too, the quietest cough, and then the soles of his feet pressing against mine, making me fight against all demons in my body to lay still and will my heart to stop beating so God damn fast.

『Not acid nor alkaline

Caught between black and white

Not quite either day or night

She's perfectly misaligned

I'm caught up in her design

And how it connects to mine

I see in a different light

The objects of my desire』

❱❱ Next chapter

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[scoonsalicious]

7.3 Major*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Sexual Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (unprotected piv, slight praise kink, slight size kink)

Word Count: 2.8k

Previously On...: You finally got Bucky's dick down your throat <3

A/N: Again, sorry about yesterday, besties! My spirit child took precedence. At least this is a decent-sized, smutty update!

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Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You were pretty proud of yourself, you had to admit. You had no idea how many women Bucky had slept with over the years (and, if you were being completely honest, you really didn’t want to know), but given he was well over a hundred, you figured it had to be a pretty decent number. Yet, here he was, lying next to you, trying to recover like you’d literally just sucked his very soul out of his body. You swore you’d never swallowed so much cum in your entire life, let alone at one time. For a moment there, you’d briefly wondered if you’d be the only person in history to literally drown in cum.

You’d never enjoyed giving your ex-husband head before, but giving it to Bucky had felt almost like a religious experience. He’d allowed you to take your time, to set your own pace, and do what felt natural to you– not just grab both sides of your head and fuck your face like a fleshlight, the way Connor had been so fond of doing. Your mouth was going to be so sore tomorrow, though. It was like having a forearm in there. You laughed quietly to yourself. Totally worth it.

“What’s so funny, doll?” Bucky asked, rolling over onto his side so he could face you properly.

“I was just reminiscing about how huge your dick felt in my mouth, Sarge,” you told him honestly. 

Bucky wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him. “Major,” he moaned into your shoulder, “you keep talking like that and you’re gonna get me going all over again.”

You smiled and scooted closer to whisper in his ear. “That cock was so big, I thought I was gonna choke on it, Sergeant.” Bucky shivered and, sure enough, you could feel the appendage in question hardening against your stomach as you spoke. He was insatiable, and you loved it.

“Come back with me to the Compound tonight,” Bucky said. “It’s closer than your place and I’m not going to be able to wait much longer to be inside of you.”

You sat up, torn between being touched that he wanted to take you back to the home he shared with his friends, and wanting to just jump his bones immediately. In the end, being horny won out. “Why wait, Bucky? We’re both already naked, and you’ve already blown one load out here. What’s a couple more?” You reached down and grabbed his semi-hard member, stroking it gently. 

“Fuuuuck,” Bucky groaned. He sat up and placed a hand over yours to cease your ministrations. “Sugar, we can’t,” he said through gritted teeth, as though it pained him to put a stop to your actions. “This is a public park. What if we get caught?”

You threw your head back and laughed at that. “Bucky,” you said through your giggling, “that’s half the fun! Besides,” you said, turning a bit more serious once you saw the concern in his eyes, “it’s after hours on a Sunday night. No one is coming to the park now. And even if they did, what are the odds of them finding us? We’re so far off trail.”

“They could see the lanterns,” Bucky said, “and follow the light. And I just… Nevermind, it’s stupid.” He turned his face from you, embarrassed. You were beginning to love the way he shied from you when he was afraid he was going to say the wrong thing.

You frowned and gently tilted his chin so he was facing you again. “What’s ‘stupid’? Bucky, you can tell me; I’m not going to judge you, I promise.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Bucky’s lips. “I just… don’t want anyone else seeing you like this,” he murmured, running his vibranium hand down your shoulder. “You look like a fucking goddess tonight, Major. I want to be the only one that gets to worship you.”

His words couldn’t have had more of an impact on you if you had been physically struck by them. “Bucky,” you whined, pulling him close to kiss him. You had a fleeting thought of self consciousness, that he’d be able to taste himself on your lips, but he didn’t seem to care as his tongue sought entry into your mouth. He kissed you like he was dying of thirst, and your lips were the only source of water for miles.

“Let’s compromise,” you told him once you’d broken apart. “We can blow out some of the lanterns, so we’re not so easy to find.” Bucky nodded, seeming to like the idea of your offer. “Then,” you continued, “you can fuck me under the stars.” 

*

The two of you must have looked absolutely ridiculous, you thought, traipsing around, completely naked, as you collected all of the things that Bucky had brought for your picnic and packing them away into the basket, save for the blankets and some pillows, giggling like idiots the entire time. You wanted to have everything packed up as neatly as possible before blowing out the lanterns, so that when it did come time to finally leave, you wouldn’t risk leaving anything behind because you’d been fumbling around in the dark. You’d both completely forgotten about actually eating dinner.

As you worked, you kept sneaking occasional glances over at Bucky, admiring the way the light rippled over his body. The man was essentially made entirely of muscle, and yeah, you’d seen him naked before, in the confines of your condo, but something about seeing all of him outside, under an open sky, did something to you. It made you feel… feral.

“You okay there, doll?” Bucky asked, causing you to refocus and clear your head. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m good. Why?” you asked him.

Bucky smiled as he walked over toward you. “Well, you stopped moving, then got this dazed look on your face, and you were just kind of staring at my dick,” he said. Reaching you, he put his hands on your hips and playfully yanked you toward him. 

You chuckled at his apt description of what you must have looked like. “Just admiring the scenery, Sarge,” you teased. You could feel your desperation for him growing by the second. You took his hand and guided it down your body, between your breasts, down the skin of your stomach, until you had it against your aching heat. 

Bucky took the initiative of running two of his thick fingers between your folds, gathering your copious slick. “Oh, sugar,” he said, his voice almost patronizing, “you’re fucking soaked.” He brought his fingers to his lips and sucked off your arousal. “Shit, you taste so damn sinful. Be a good girl and go wait for me on the blanket while I finish up, alright?”

You nodded and did as he asked. You watched as he quickly finished gathering all the lanterns and blowing them out, one by one, until he was just a silhouette of shadow among shadows. 

“Hey, sugar,” Bucky said through the darkness as he climbed toward you across the blanket. Your eyes were adjusting to the starlight, and though you couldn’t make him out perfectly, you could see him much easier.

“Hi, Sarge,” you replied with a soft giggle as you reached for him. “Come fuck me, please.”

“Oh, doll,” Bucky purred, “I’m not going to fuck you tonight.” He kneeled down on the blanket, resting back on his heels, and, as if you weighed absolutely nothing, he picked you up, positioning you so you were facing him, straddling your legs on either side of his torso. “Tonight, I’m making love to you, Major. Put your arms around my neck.”

You obeyed him dumbly, his words having driven all rational thought completely out of your head. Bucky reached underneath you, putting his hands under your ass and using them to pull you close to his chest. “Are you ready?” he asked. 

You nodded desperately; you were practically dripping for him by this point, but something hit you. “Fuck,” you hissed. “I don’t have any condoms.”

“What happened to my always prepared Girl Scout?” Bucky asked with a grin. 

“I thought we were going out to dinner!” you told him in exasperation. “I didn’t think we’d end up fucking in the middle of the woods! I just assumed we’d end up fucking back at my place, where I have copious amounts of condoms!”

Bucky laughed at that. “Well, maybe we should both start carrying them at all times then, sugar. Just in case. Seems we’re making it a habit of not always gettin’ to a bed in time.” But then his face turned serious. “If you’re worried about diseases or whatever,  you don’t have to be– the serum, it prevents me from contractin’ anything, so I can’t pass stuff on, either. Kind of like a catch-all vaccination. The only thing we’d have to worry about is… well,” his eyes glanced down to your belly. “You know. I can always pull out before I finish, if you want.”

Just the idea of feeling him inside of you, with absolutely nothing between you, invaded your thoughts and filled your mind like a thick smoke, reaching every crevice of your brain until it was all you could think about. To actually feel him cum inside of you… “Don’t you dare,” you said, a little more sharply than you intended. “Pull out, I mean. Fuck, I wanna feel you, Bucky. All of you. I’m clean, and I’m on birth control. I can pick up some Plan B in the morning, just to be safe.”

Bucky closed his eyes and groaned. “Fuck, sugar, if you’re sure.”

You tightened your grip around his neck. “I’m so sure, Sergeant Barnes,” you said. “I wanna feel every inch of you inside of me.”

Bucky opened his eyes and looked at you. “I don’t think I’ve ever had sex without a condom before,” he confessed. “Don’t take it personal if I don’t last. It just means you feel so fucking good, I couldn’t help myself.”

You snorted at that, and Bucky grinned at you. “As long as you make sure I cum, too,” you said, kissing his jaw, “I don’t care how long you last.” You both knew he would never leave you unsatisfied.

“Hey.” Bucky jerked his chin so he was looking into your eyes again. “I’m really glad that, this first time for me without anything between me and a dame, it’s with you.”

You didn’t have words to describe how that made you feel, so you did the only thing that would properly convey the depth of your affection toward him– you kissed him as you lowered yourself onto his dick. You were so wet, he met virtually no resistance as he tilted his hips up into you. And your body, now after your… eleventh, or was it twelfth?-- time in two and a half days, knew how to welcome him.

“Holy fucking shit!” you gasped.

“What is, doll?” Bucky asked, eyes wide with concern. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head. “Do you have any idea how deep you feel inside of me right now, Bucky?” you asked him. “It’s like I can feel you in my soul.” 

“Fuck,” he grunted, and then he started using his arms to guide you up and down on his cock, sliding himself nearly all the way out before pulling you back down on him again, and each stroke felt like ecstasy. “Damn it, doll,” Bucky said, looking down to watch where his cock disappeared inside of you, “you feel so fuckin’ good! I don’t know if I can ever go back to fucking you covered again!”

“Oh, god, Bucky,” you moaned. You didn’t know if you could go back, either, not with the way you could feel every single vein of him drag against your inner walls. His motions were deliberate, slow, gently feeding the fire instead of pouring gasoline on it the way he usually did. It was intoxicating.

“Look at me, sugar,” he begged, his voice holding a tone of longing. Your eyes met his, and despite the dark, they shone. You couldn’t look away as he pumped into you. “You’re fucking amazing, Major,” he gasped, timing his statements to match his languid thrusts. “So goddamn beautiful.” Thrust. “You make me laugh.” Thrust. “You’re brave as hell.” Thrust. “You’re independent.” Thrust. “Strong.” Thrust. “Smart.” Thrust.

He kept praising you as he increased his rhythm, hips thrusting up into you faster and faster, the whole while keeping his eyes locked on yours. The coil inside of you was tightening, constricting the expanse of your lungs, making your breath come out in shallow gasps. 

You kissed him, putting every ounce of lust into the motion, moaning into his mouth as he never broke stride and brought you closer to the edge. “Bucky,” you moaned into his mouth. “Fuck, Bucky, you’re making me feel so good, honey. Don’t stop, please!” 

“Never, sugar,” Bucky grunted back. “Fuck, wanna make love to you until the day I die.” You sucked in a breath at his words, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. Bucky’s thrusts faltered. “Doll,” he said, lifting a hand to wipe the tears from your cheek, “did I say something wrong? I’m sorry!”

“No!” you cried, shaking your head as you worked your own hips to make up for his loss of motion. “No, Bucky, shit, honey, you’re saying everything so right. I’m crying because I can’t remember the last time I felt so goddamn happy.” 

Bucky resumed his thrusts with a renewed purpose. Getting up on knees, he repositioned you so you were lying on your back, his giant frame leaning over you. “Come on, sugar,” Bucky grunted as he snaked a hand down to your clit and began to rub. “Need to feel you cum around my cock. Show me how happy you are, pretty girl. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow to bring your face closer to his. Grabbing a hold of the chain that held your name, you pulled his face to yours and kissed him. “‘M so close, honey,” you moaned into his lips. “Need you to give it to me.”

“I wanna give you everything, Major,” he grunted, kissing you again. And then, suddenly, it was all over for you, the coil snapping, and you were falling, shouting his name to the stars and the sky. Bucky’s thrusts lost their careful rhythm, and you could feel him spilling into you, wave after warm wave of cum pouring down your channel. 

“Fuck, sugar,” Bucky cried. “Can feel you squeezin’ me. Shit, baby– you feel so fucking good, sugar. ‘S so good, can’t stop cumming.” His words lost all meaning as they devolved into grunts and moans as he collapsed on you, his hips still thrusting as if with a mind of their own.

The weight of him should have been suffocating, but instead, you never felt safer than you did with his body splayed on top of yours. He held you to him, as though afraid that, were he to let go, you would float away on the breeze, and you felt so light after your orgasm, you very well could have. Mumbling sweet nothings into the side of your neck, Bucky’s flesh hand found your hair, stroking it. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into your skin. “Thank you so much, Major.”

You let out a shuddering breath, hands gripping the muscles of his upper back as you held him, legs finding their way around his waist. “Thank you, Bucky,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple. “That was everything.”

After a few moments, Bucky gently rolled off of you, but his hands never left your body as he held you close, running his fingers along the meridian of your spine. 

“How’re you feeling?” he asked you. Always considerate, always checking in. It made your heart swell with affection. Fuck, with love for him.

“So good,” you told him. You placed a gentle kiss on his pectoral. “How are you feeling? Did you have a good time?”

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me, sugar?” he asked with mock incredulity. “Every time I’m with you feels like the best time of my fucking life. And I’m not just saying that,” he added, anticipating your incoming protest. “You… I don’t know what it is you do to me, Major. I just know that, when I look at you, things feel right, for the first time since I shipped out in ‘43. I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.”

But goddamn if this man didn’t know how to say just the right words to you. ���If you’re not careful, Bucky Barnes,” you said, hoping to put enough tease in your voice to mask how sincerely you felt the words you were saying, “I’m gonna end up falling in love with you.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[scramblescrew]

Request by: 🌱(seed) Anon!

Self-Aware Yandere Ancients and Beasts with male Y/N

Background:

It was a normal Thursday evening and Y/N was out for a walk when they got a notification on their phone. They check it and there was a new update to Cookie Run Kingdom that came out, The Silver kingdom/Beast-Yeast update. The boy was very excited to download the update and get to see all of the new characters, lands, and other features to play with. Y/N hadn’t been this excited since “The Heroes of Dark Cacao” update! Y/N had to admit, The Ancients as well as The Cookies of Darkness were awesome! Y/N thought as he happily jogged home and booted up the game!

After downloading, Y/N saw the beautiful new menu screen, with soft greens and silvers, the new faerie guardians and Pure Vanilla Cookie along the bottoms corners of the screen. But finally, Y/N noticed her, White Lily Cookie! It seemed like forever that he wished that WLC would be added to the game as more than quick appearances and today was the day she probably would!

Ancient Cookies:

Y/N loaded into his kingdom and scrolled around, getting Gems and other things before he finally got White lily Cookie- HE HAD ALL OF THE ANCIENTS! it took awhile but Y/N did it. though... after WLC appeared in his kingdom, he noticed: All of the Ancients suddenly stop moving and look up at him, a normal animation, if it wasn’t for them refusing to move, look away, or the fact that they all started smiling sadistically. Y/N tried to pick them all up and move them so they’d move on but the Ancients weren’t able to be picked up like the rest? Suddenly, Y/N's phone got really cold, like- FRIGID cold! when Y/N tried to put his phone down out of slight fear and concern, five pairs of arms pulled Y/N into the screen, Y/N passing through it and landing on soft ground. Y/N rubbed his head as he tried to get up, his eyes seeing the Lily Garden he had made for PVC and WLC, as well as 5 towering beings surrounding him- The Five Ancient Cookies.... "Our precious baker..." The bond yet motherly voice of HollyBerry Cookie spoke before pulling Y/N up into a strong, safe embrace as the other four started either hugging or carressing your hair and face. "We finally have you here at last, love!" the other spoke, seeming trying to be in unison as Y/N, Now...Y/N Cookie, relaxed into the loving embrace and closed his eye, "You're safe here, Y/N Cookie. and if anyone tries to take you from us..." GCC started, "We'll do whatever it takes to get you back, even if it means crumbling the whelps that get in our way..." Dark Cacao Cookie finished

The Five Beasts:

Y/N logged into his kingdom and started playing through Beast-Yeast, stopping at some points to watch videos on the story (You spoil-sport). After weeks of on-and-off playing, you got to the part where you meet Shadow Milk Cookie and the rest of the Beasts. Though it was strange, while the beasts appeared on screen when talking, their eyes were on you…..this wasn’t normal, so you turned off the game and restarted the level-…same thing. Then- the screen went black and a familiar blue diamond shaped eye, an upside down heart, an ivory diamond, red diamond, and what seemed to be a purple arrowhead appeared on screen. You were freaked out a bit as you tried to shut off the game to no avail.

Out of nowhere, blue text appeared on screen below the blue eye,

“We’ve heard so much about you, Our little baker, and we agree that you need to be with us forever!~”

“Don’t even try to escape, it’ll be futile in the end…”

It was undeniably freaky that this was happening. ‘Little baker? Excuse me, OUR?’ Thoughts spun around your head before a black and blue shepherds hook (cane used to pull people off stage in theatre) hooked around your neck and pulled you into and through the screen.

“Don’t worry, love, we’ll take such good care of you~ you won’t have to worry about ANYONE taking you away from us~”

[autismprotocol]

TMAG Theory Board Update (EP 11-12)

Hi guys sorry about the late posting I've just started a new quarter of college and its been pretty hectic. also got into my school design BFA program so pretty stoked about that! Anyways lets get into the Episode Breakdowns because even though not a lot of lore related things happened I still have a lot to talk about

For the breakdown I'll separate each by episode in sequential order

What Happened in Episode 11: Marked

Celias Rude Awakening- we jump right into the weirdness straight away with Celia waking up on the side of the interstate. she indicates that this is not a weird occurrence and ends the scene by telling someone named Jack that she's "on her way." If you remember episode 8 after Celia and Sam talk to Gerry and Gertrude, she mentions stuff about wanting help with her own mystery. When Sam asks about it she says she's looking into Time travel, other dimentions and teleportation. Many people have theorized that maybe Celia is just a super heavy sleepwalker, but I think the she teleports random places out of nowhere. This could be a side effect of her reality hopping if this Celia is originally from The archives universe.

As for the identity of Jack I'm not quite sure about that yet. I cross referenced the name Jack with past episodes of TMA. The only thing that came up was Jack Barnabas from the statement about dating Agnes Montague (aka an avatar of the desolation and Jesus-like figure for the cult of the lightless flame) So Unless Celia is secretly Agnes of Agnes reincarnated , I can't find any way to link Barnabas to Celia. (if anyone has a theory feel free to send it my way.)

Sam Lore- this one is pretty minor story-wise but I thought it was interesting. Before the statement for the episode is presented we get some classic Sam and Alice Banter ™ most of it is pretty lighthearted but I noticed Sam mention something that could indicate he might be an amputee.

These could not mean anything and I find it weird that it hasn't been mentioned until now but thought it was kind of cool and I will probably be drawing sam with a prothetic leg in the future cause I really like this head-canon. It also begs to question if he is missing a leg. it might have anything to do with his past as a Magnus institute test subject but then again could just be a fun character detail added by Jonny and/or Alex .

The Statement- Getting into the statement we get another Ink5oul appearance. Also possible Ink5oul identifying as she/they. (and lets be honest being a fear avatar is pretty non binary core). I found this Episode gave me a feeling of a hybrid between the Vast, Buried and the Flesh some people are theorizing that is might be a new entity called the Deep but I think that the fear of the ocean could easily apply to the vast or buried. Not much to say about this story though pretty standard Magnus horror that also gave us a hint to what Ink5oul's goal could be/which entity they serve.

Post Bonzo- Gwen has a debrief with Lena after her first Externals Liason assignment and her meeting with Mr. Bonzo. Undoubtedly Gwen is still pretty shaken from her encounter, even arriving late to work due to sleeplessness. Gwen is able to ask Lena a few questions mainly she wanted to know who's name was written on the letter given to Bonzo

Lena is largely unhelpful but tells Gwen she should have worked it out by now and if not to pay close attention to the case load for the next couple of days. before the latest episode my guess was Klaus because that is the only person mentioned so far that the OIAR intends to kill. but more on that later

Marked- Now were getting to my favorite thing about this episode. This episode title can have two meanings. The first is the more literal interpretation. Tattoos are marking of the body and the case this episode was all about tattoos so easily a good name would be marked. But I believe this is a red herring meant to misguide listeners who have not consumed all 200 episodes of TMA because if you know the world of Magnus Archives the term Marked takes on a entirely different meaning.

In TMA the term marked is used to indicate that somebody has been influenced by one or more or the fears and are one their way to becoming an Avatar. I think this could be a coded way to tell the audience someone in the OIAR has been marked. I have two potential candidates

Alice Dyer- Alice has been having dreams about the Institute after her and Sam's adventure into the ruins. also she mentions feeling like someone's watching her (common to people influenced or fed upon by the Ceaseless Watcher/The Eye) My guess if she is marked it would be by the Eye.

Gwendolyn Bouchard: Probably the most likely culprit. The main way an entitly tends to mark people is through encounters with other avatars. Gwen has just had an encounter with Mr Bonzo last episode who I strongly believe must be an avatar of some sort.

What Happened in Episode 12: Getting Off

Aww Sam!!- Sam asked Celia out and it was adorably awkward. not much to say I just loved this interaction and I'm longing for a new Magnus brand office romance hopefully is wont be an agonizing slowburn that ends tragically like a certain pair of morons from Archives (I love you Jon and Martin but Jesus christ)

It's Bonzo time bitches!!- Probably one of the most gruesome Magnus statement I've ever listened to (good work Alex) Mr Bonzo completely annihilated some poor dude at his bachelor party. Based on the date of the Incident the I can confidently say that whoever Baz (the groom) was he was our mystery person the OIAR sent Mr Bonzo to get rid of. Along with some of the bloodiest imagery we learned a few things about Bonzo. The most interesting detail is that Bonzo has to be summoned by playing his theme song I think the CD of his theme song acts somewhat like the tapes did in TMA by materialising out of nowhere. Also fun fact you know that torn seam that is right down Bonzo's middle? that is actually is his mouth lined with rows sharp teeth so I guess I know that now (so fun) Moral of the story dont f*ck with Mr. Bonzo

Alice knows something: Theres been this recurring audio glitch throughout TMAGP thatnks to a few extremly observent fans we have started to relize that these glitches are not at all random and are actually letting the audience know when a character is lying (i actually reposted somones deepdive into all the istances of this glitch so far if you guys are intrested in knowing more) why i bring this up now is becuase since we know when any charater is lying we also know when they are being truthful if there is no glitch when they say somthing and at the end of this episode this interaction occurs

Alice goes ahead and makes a joke about this to annoy Gwen but the fact theres no audio glitch when she says "I know" means she does actually know who is behind the OIAR and is activly refusing to share it with Gwen or the others. What do you know Alice!?

and that's about it im already loving these next batch of episodes and am so excited to learn more (ERROR has to show up somtime )

thanks to everyone who resonded the poll on the last update I will continue to include drawings into the breakdown even if it takes me a little bit of time to post. anyways I wrote this all in one sitting and I'm about ready to pass out so thanks again and the ask box and comments are always open for discussion and theory crafting.

-Echo

[seat-safety-switch]

Birdwatching got really popular in the early days of the Unpleasantness. However, now that the bosses are forcing us all back to the office, the birds don't have anyone to watch them. That's why I built an autonomous bird-observation robot. Its name is SparrowScope 9000, and I recommend not becoming too emotionally attached to it, because it is your competition.

There's a lot of obvious benefits to having a robotic birdwatcher. It can start up early in the morning and go to its charging dock late at night. It never makes a mistake identifying a bird. It won't get tired, cold, hungry, or develop pointless drama with "Uncle" Hudson Carl online over his fucking misdocumentation of Northern Cardinals. You can pop over to its little webpage and see what it spotted that day, and feel pretty good. It's like you're really there, even though you're stuck in an office building wondering if you have enough staples loaded in your stapler to get through the month, or if you should maybe talk to Jan in Requisitioning to get a fresh refill.

However, there are flaws. One of the big things is that the US military doesn't let regular people – civilians – have super-accurate GPS. They fuck with the data a little bit, so that you can't somehow threaten national security by knowing where you are. I didn't know this before I started on the project, and the bird sanctuary has a lot of elevated walkways ever since the flood. SparrowScope 9000 became more of a SoggyScope Wet-Thousand.

If a real technology company had assembled it, that would probably have been the end of the story. They'd have put in some total garbage like a modern microcontroller, maybe some parts made in this century. Not me. This thing is half old pinball machine parts and the other half Aibos. It kept trucking right down the river, and I never saw it again. I do get updates from it periodically as it spots a new bird, but my work schedule forbids me from taking a few days off to drive to the next county over and see if I can figure out which swamp it's floated into this time.

Even with this small disaster, I'm pretty proud of what I accomplished. Our avian friends get looked at by a creepy robot covered in seaweed, and we can all experience what it was like for one brief, shining moment in which we still had hobbies.

[starsexplodeatnight]

John PricexFamily

John was deploying again. John knew it, you knew it, your kids knew it. It was apart of life right now until John’s retirement process started.

You and John have 3 kids now, he’s not risking his ass just to come home in a box to the life he’s been dreaming of for so long. It took him this long to get one, to get a family. But, as it stands? He’s got a few more deployments.

You two have 2 boys, and a little girl. Oldest is 8, middle is 6, youngest just turned 2.

You’re shipping him off, holding your daughter on your hip. Your sons stand next to you, obedient as hell. They’re good boys, like their father- kind of.

Your oldest boy has admires John and has been stoic since he’s been given the news his dad is shippin’ off. Your middle boy thinks John’s job is cool, he’s excited for John to come back with souvenirs and stories! Your youngest, is oblivious. She just know’s the base as where she gets to see uncle Soap, Gaz and Simon.

Too soon John kisses you all goodbye. Your eldest’s forehead, the top of your middles’ head, your babygirl’s cheek, your lips. Then he turns and climbs in the truck that’ll transport him to the airfield tarmac.

You know? You think you’re getting better at this! You used to sniffle and cry every time, your sons aren’t either! Your daughter though?

As soon as he climbs into the truck and it starts up, baby girl starts crying. Eyes scrunched, face red, mouth open wailing!

Then, your middles' excitement morphs into a pout. The pout turns into tears and tears to wailing.

You oldest, poor baby. He tried so hard, he did. Stiff upper lip until tears began rolling down his face.

Craaaaap.

Yeah, you begin to bawl with them... Just standing there- surrounded by wailing kids. Captain John Price's wife.

The truck that had been pulling away with your husband then, stops?

Your John hops out, misty eyed and runny nosed. A rarity. He jogs over, huddling you all close and calming you all down. After a moment of consolation, John has to go.

You all watch with wet eyes as he leaves.

By the time he calls you for an update. He'll tell you this: You and your kids made everyone on that truck cry.

Soap was tearing up, ruddy nose and talking deep breaths. Gaz had a grimace on this face, watching the mirror. Ghost had been the one to stop the truck.

"Get out." Ghosts eyes are misty under his balaclava.

"What?-"

"Get out and comfort them!" Gaz snaps.

"Please-" Soap pleads.

So, John got out. Thats why the truck stopped.

.

So, this is based off of true events!

When my grandma visited up from michigan. She was getting on her bus to go home, I was just a wee snot.

My mom was doing good until I started crying. Then my sister started crying. Then my mom. The entire bus load of people began to cry and the driver made my grandma get off and hug us one more time.

[byoldervine]

How To Start Writing A Book (So Says This Idiot)

I’ve been working on my queer superhero fantasy novel Byoldervine for a few years now, but it’s only been in the last year or so that I’ve really dedicated myself to my writing. Now I’ve gone from a fun few concepts to nearly 50K words and counting. So I figured I’d share my process to get here

1. Figure out your barebones concept

Before you can begin writing, you obviously need to know what you’re writing. At this point in time it can literally just be something like “A group of friends go on a quest through a magical fantasy world and meet loads of mythical creatures along the way”, it doesn’t even necessarily need a plot intact. You can be as vague or as specific as you like here, you just need that general idea

2. Figure out your characters

Your characters are the driving forces behind all internal conflict in your story and give your story heart; if you can pick between expanding your plot and expanding your characters, pick the characters. Start figuring out at very least the need-to-know aspects about your characters, such as their motivations and what’s holding them back from achieving them. We can flesh them out more and more as we go

3. Create the main external conflict

Often this takes the form of the main antagonist, but it can be literally anything from a curse the main character is trying to overcome, a series of misunderstandings, a goal they just don’t have the skills to achieve on their own, etc. What’s the thing that’s causing our main character problems they need to overcome?

4. Work out the beginning and end of your story

Where do you want your story to end? Do you want your characters to be living a life of peace and glory as revered heroes after they defeat the villain? Do you want them to be able to return to the life they once had with new friends and stronger powers than ever before? Do you want them to fail and experience the tragedy of their loss? Well if that’s where you want to end, they can’t have all that at the very start of the story, so that’s something that needs to change during the story. Congratulations, you just created a plot point!

5. Use your plot points to create a general plan

Now that you’ve got some ideas of what you want/need to happen during the story, you can make a timeline of these plot points. Say something like “Inciting incident, MC leaves village” or “MC trapped by BBEG” or “MC gains new weapon” or something like that. At this point things are a bit less vague because now you’re starting to see how the plot can go. Don’t forget to add things that the characters would go for, too, even if it’s not plot-relevant

6. Plotting

You’re ready to start plotting by now. For every chapter, write down a general objective of what needs to be achieved within this chapter. Each of these needs to be followed with bullet points of different, smaller plot points within the chapter to achieve this objective. This part I enjoy doing alongside actually writing so I can update it as I go, I’ll usually plot about five chapters ahead and then get to writing until I’ve used them all up

By this point, you’re ready to write! Best of luck and remember that it’s only a first chapter, all it needs to do is exist!

[buddiefix]

Fake Dating/Didn't Know They Were Dating Fic's (Part 1)

The following are some buddie fanfiction involving fake dating, or the characters realizing they've been partners all along.

What If I Fall In Love Backwards? by RedRidingStiles 

9-1-1 (TV)  

"I feel like we should go save him," Chimney said as he and Hen loaded their drunk and injured patient into the back of the ambulance (day drinking and balconies do not mix), nodding his head towards the small swarm of college girls surrounding a highly uncomfortable Buck. "And by we I mean you, Eddie." "Yeah I got this," Eddie reassured, cupping one hand around his mouth before shouting, "Hey Buckley!" "What's up, Hot Stuff?" Buck called back, his eyes holding crystal blue relief as they met Eddie's across the lawn. Eddie tried to bite back his amused smile but didn't succeed when his next words had Buck grinning like a complete fool. "You. Me. Tonight. Wear something pretty." "Edmundo Diaz, are you trying to ask me out on a date?"

 —or—

five Times Buck and Eddie saved each other by pretending to be together and the one time Christopher helps

Language: English Words: 9,879 Chapters: 1/1

baby, say you'll always keep me by hattalove

9-1-1 (TV)  

“Yeah,” Eddie says, and the darkness behind his eyelids takes on a white edge. “Be good. Nice to be married,” he yanks on Buck’s t-shirt, “best friend.” Finally, Buck takes a breath that sounds off somehow, but he laughs too, and that sounds normal, Eddie thinks. A normal laugh. “Sure, Eds,” he says, and there’s his hand in Eddie’s hair again, a puff of breath on the crown of Eddie’s head like Buck leaned in to press a kiss there and then stopped, but why would he stop—“I’ll marry you if you remind me tomorrow.”

—or—

The one in which joking about being married to your best friend is all fun and games, right up until you realize that you're not laughing.

Language: English Words: 8,251 Chapters: 1/1

I Hate Accidents (Except When We Went From Friends to This) by morganofthefairies 

9-1-1 (TV)  

“You should just move in,” Eddie said one night.  They were already laying in bed, Buck’s face half-buried in his pillow. “Where would I sleep, Eddie,” Buck deadpanned, sleep heavy in his voice. “Here,” Eddie said, not entirely sure how Buck missed that part.  “The same place you’ve been sleeping.” Bobby raised an eyebrow when Buck updated his address on all of the necessary paperwork, but Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what the big deal was.

—or—

The story of how Buck and Eddie went about their relationship in entirely the wrong order.

Language: English Words: 7,206 Chapters: 1/1

we could follow the sparks, i’ll drive by markofalover

9-1-1 (TV)  

“Oh! You must be Mr. Diaz!” someone says from behind him, and Buck spins around clumsily, all long legs, to find a woman with a Miss Perez tag stuck to her blouse. She’s smiling politely, white teeth against red lips, and it takes just a second too long to process what she says.

—or—

everyone thinks Buck is the other Mr. Diaz.

Language: English Words: 6,539 Chapters: 1/1

i'd never let you fall and break your heart by autistic_nightfury

9-1-1 (TV)  

Four times Buck and Eddie pretended to be in a relationship so people wouldn't bother them, and the one time they actually were together.

Language: English Words: 5,808 Chapters: 1/1

Say Cheese by S_lycopersicum

9-1-1 (TV)  

"Um... anything left to get?" "Snacks for that girl who has diabetes. Amy, Audrey, uh..." "Abby." "Pfff... I'd remember if she was called Abby," Buck half-heard Eddie say, but his focus was on the other end of the grocery store aisle, where at 11pm at night his ex-girlfriend Abby Clark was carefully assessing two different brands of provolone.

Language: English Words: 4,927 Chapters: 1/1

of bake sales and overdue realizations by brewrosemilk

9-1-1 (TV)  

Eddie doesn’t notice it until it becomes a thing that happens even when it’s just him and Buck, without Chris anywhere near them - but even then, he doesn’t find it strange, or give it much thought. Buck is the one who starts ending their phone calls with a quick ‘love you’ but it doesn't take long before Eddie does the same, often beating him to it. It’s never a big deal - most of the time it’s something along the lines of;

‘Hey, can you grab some milk on your way over? We’re out.’ ‘Yeah, yeah, I got it.’ ‘Great, love you.’ ‘Love you.’

Before long, they’re even doing it in texts.

Language: English Words: 4,823 Chapters: 1/1

the secrets we keep (the ones that spill out) by sparegarbage

9-1-1 (TV)  

The 118 is a close-knit family. It’s not surprising given how much time they spend together: endless hours at the firehouse, barbecues on the weekends, the occasional night at the bar. They’re a family, yes... but Buck and Eddie don’t have to tell them everything. They’re allowed their secrets, really, and it’s not… weird. Really, it’s not. It’s just that sometimes the 118 asks too many questions, and sometimes there’s just no good (or clear or logical) way to explain. Exhibit A: How Buck ended up in Eddie’s bed during a sleepover (and how he’s been sleeping there most nights since).

—Or—

Buck and Eddie comfort each other with cuddles, hugs, and kisses (platonically—or so they think).

Language: English Words: 4,624 Chapters: 1/1

With(out) A First Date by firstdegreefangirl

9-1-1 (TV)  

Buck and Eddie become boyfriends. Six months later, they start dating.

Language: English Words: 10,282 Chapters: 13/13

it's always been you by coupe_de_foudre

9-1-1 (TV)  

“What do I normally get from there?” Eddie asks him, chin settled back onto his shoulder. “The kung pao chicken.” he answers almost instantaneously, having all of Eddie’s usual take-out orders memorised by now. It comes in handy for when they need to get food in quick whilst navigating work and Christopher. It’s not weird. He, unfortunately, misses the odd look that Maddie sends him. As well as the way that Hen hides a snicker behind a cough.

Language: English Words: 8,700 Chapters: 6/6

(Friendly reminder I do not own any of the works listed in this post, and all can be located on archiveofoureown.org)