#this is the only thing i will say about this situation

[insertdisc5]

sincerest apologies if you've been asked and said something about this before, but i'm curious what your process for coming up with your characters is! the way the isat cast are written is so good and well rounded, they each really feel like a person. how do you develop them to that point! for that matter, was there any interesting Character behind the scenes development between comic!siffrin and game siffrin as their story changed and became more fleshed out? thank you so much if you decide to answer, and if you don't that's ok too and i hope you have a good day!

ok i feel like i have answered this before, but it's not in my #reference tag so you get a whole new answer!!!!!!

-figure out a Trope. a Fella full of Tropes. like omg thats a Fella who Likes Puns. take your Trope Fella thats your basis.

-give them a secret. or more. the secrets will drive their actions. this Fella has amnesia and also has abandonment issues. do not reveal the secrets until the Right Moment, but you should often allude to it

-with those two things you will get Rules. this is a Fella who likes Puns. they use puns to deflect. so if someone asks a question that is a little too close to home, they will ALWAYS DEFLECT.

-write them in so many situations. how would they react to this? what would they say here? how would they answer when someone asks about their favorite hobby? would they be honest about it? or are they lying about it? why?

-every situation theyre into should go back to the rules. even if you're the only one who knows it. just a sprinkle to make people go "huh that was a weird reaction...."

-that way, people experiencing the story again will be able to go "OH MY GOD... THAT WASNT A PUN OUT OF NOWHERE... THAT WAS A /DEFLECTION/" and they will love it.

-rules are here to be broken. but only for the best moments ever

-lastly, give them a hobby or two to make them seem like real people. be REAL specific about it. this girl doesnt just like romance books she likes MONSTER ROMANCE

[kazhanko-art]

(sorry in advance if this was already answered)

so in overall, there are people across Canada of every political sway which all have their own reasons against trudeau. Some of those reasons are legit, some are not, and then there’s the complicated ones where it’s not always 100% trudeau or his parties fault but they also didn’t help things.

but some things to know

Trudeau’s father, Pierre Trudeau, left a legacy for Trudeau to follow; both in the sense that Pierre had accomplished a lot as a leader and shaped a lot of what Canada is today politically, but he was and continues to be a divisive figure, particularly in Quebec and the Prairies (that legacy also affects the liberal party overall, at least out here in Alberta, but that whole convo can wait for another time)

So trudeau had some big shoes to fill, and many would say he failed and some would say he only got the leadership position because of his name (I don’t personally agree with this entirely but his name is not irrelevant and probably played a part in it)

Additionally, Trudeau was first elected not long before Trump, and with the US being our closest ally (though the republicans seem eager to undermine that rn) navigating the relationship with trump was going to be a major part of his job, as well as upholding Canada’s foreign diplomacy and relations in general

finally, there have been multiple major economic and political events that occurred around and during Trudeau’s time as prime minister. One of these was a global oil crash in around 2014-15, which hit my home province and other prairie provinces hard, and has had lasting consequences to this day

So for the first point: unlike his father, Trudeau isn’t seen as much of a builder. While he and his party did accomplish some things, they have often been seen as ineffective in many ways. Trudeau was partially elected on the promise of electoral reform, something that could have addressed many of the issues with regionalism and political representation in Canada, but he ultimately declared he wouldn’t, a move which many saw as a self preserving one for him and his party. He also made many promises to Indigenous people, however how that turned out has been mixed, with many Indigenous Canadians feeling let down a betrayed (I believe he intitially had some of the highest Indigenous votes, which is important as if I remember right, Indigenous canadians otherwise tend to have lower rates of voter turn out for a variety of reasons)

That last point gets into the oil crash. You see Trudeau and the liberal party were already by default viewed with skepticism in the prairies, due to a feeling of courting central Canadian concerns over other (and specifically western) concerns. Alberta in particular has a bit of a bone to pick, partially due to a narrative of persecution some albertans have about about equalization payments and the environmental policies like the carbon tax, and some more legitimate reasons. One of the things that happened was that Alberta was struggling to get it’s oil out to the market, and oil was the main thing that kept the Albertan economy alive. With the massive drop in oil prices (I think it went down to like $50 a barrel) Alberta was struggling, with major layoffs across multiple sectors, many businesses leaving or closing, and both the downtown of Calgary and Edmonton being very miserable, often described as full of empty buildings at the time. Prior to that Alberta was providing a lot economically to the other the country and often felt like it was paying for the east (again, complex issue but we don’t have time for Canada’s petty regionalism) Trudeau was seen as unconcerned and unhelpful in this situation, even forgetting to mention alberta when listing off every other province as great, which many took as intentional.

So Alberta pushed for multiple pipelines to get the oil out, however there was opposition from other provinces (I think BC and Quebec specifically) and the pipelines ran through Indigenous territory. That whole debacle was a pretty large political thing but the main thing is that the Indigenous territory was unceded land and that the hereditary chiefs opposed the pipeline, but the RCMP tried to force out the chiefs and protestors. Trudeau was sort of wishy washy the whole time this was going on, but in the end the federal government bought the pipeline, and basically managed to piss all sides of the issue off, as Alberta still lost money and was struggling economically, and the Indigenous people and environmentalists felt betrayed

another thing that happened was the SNC Lavelin scandal. SNC Lavelin is a quebec based engineering firm that provided a lot of jobs; however they also had been charged with corruption for helping (I think it was Gaddafi’s son) escape Libya. The charges would prevented then from taking on some contracts and effected employment. Trudeau basically tried to stop the charges in order to save jobs in central Canada. This involved him trying to give the executive branch over the judicial branch, which undermined the separation of powers in our democratic institution. It also eventually led to Jody Wilson Raybound, who was acting as attorney general and is an Indigenous woman, to resign and then later be expelled by trudeau. That whole period of time was a mess and it’s again, a long and complicated thing, but for people it pissed off:

Prairie Canadians and Albertans specifically once again felt shafted. While it felt like the federal government couldn’t care less about the economies or well being of these provinces, Trudeau actively tried to save a company from legal consequences to save the jobs in other provinces (this was after also helping other job markets in central canada)

Indigenous people were mad because JWR was fucked over along with some disillusionment with the truth and reconciliation the government had promised

there were feminists who side eyed trudeau as he is a self declared feminist and promised a lot in the way of supporting women and having women in his caucus, yet here he was forcing a woman out, making him come across as a closet misogynist who was using the presence of these women in his party for his own gain while not really recognizing their competencies as politicians and leaders

Trudeau also came across as very meek in the presence of Trump. While his team successfully navigated Trump’s first round of tariffs, that was more on Christina Freeland then him. He also had gaffs on his trip to India, who he failed to improve Canada’s relationship with, and arguably worsened by posing in a photo with a terrorist (Canada already had a complicated relationship with India btw)

Trudeau’s government also had a very high rate of immigration. Now that in of itself isn’t bad; Canada has always had immigration and anyone who has moved here can tell you, even under Trudeau it is a long and hard process to become a PR. However many Canadian housing markets were already pricing out residents (Vancouver and Toronto have been bad for a while) and do to a combination of fuck ups between federal, provincial, and municipal governments, along with many Canadians being resistant to high density housing and land being given to firms that would develop luxury instead of affordable housing (and so many other factors) meant that with the rate of immigration, there were a lot of people coming in faster than there were homes being made available. This was one of many contributing factors to Canada’s current housing crisis. Additionally Trudeau’s government repeatedly ran on deficits and added a lot to national debt, and often came across as tone deaf to Canadians struggling with the rising cost of living.

That then bled into the pandemic, which of course had massive political ramifications everywhere, and the freedom convoy which both bolstered growing polarization in Canada (as is an issue across the western world) and was again, an issue where Trudeau came across as an ineffective leader and managed to anger multiple sides.

Eventually we got to now where Trudeau’s own party asked him to step down. He is seen as someone who cannot properly navigate or stand up to trump, was accused by former party members of using gimmicks to win over Canadians while mismanaging the cost of living crisis and economy, and is seen by many as incompetent, self serving, and detached from many parts of Canadian society

There is also way more I could add, but basically, for many what it comes down to is

-he failed on many of his promises that people voted him in for, whether that be electoral reform, truth and reconciliation, or other progressive policie

-he came across as out of touch, dismissive, and even spiteful to some towards many parts of Canada, both regionally and demographically

-he came across as dishonest and two faced, often failing groups and causes he claimed to support

-simultaneously, people who already didn’t like him were given more reasons to dislike him, leading to him feeling like a fence sitter who repeatedly screwed up when he was needed

-he came across as spineless and incompetent as Canadians desired a leader who felt more secure

-he is seen as mismanaging the economy, diplomacy, immigration, and housing and being responsible for Canada’s current issues (although many of those topics are very complicated and are not purely his fault)

-fundamentally, Trudeau has struggled in many ways for the same reason other incumbent liberal leaders globally. While Canada is not as bad as in the US and some European nations in this regard, we have seen a rise globally in extremism and populism, as many have grown disillusioned with more established politicians and parties. But for Canadians, he fundamentally failed to navigate our regionalism, shifting politics, crisis of living, and growing political divide

There’s probably other things. For the record, while I personally don’t like Trudeau (my main reason stemming from SNC Lavelin) I don’t agree with all the reasons I’ve listed, but those are some of the reasons across the political spectrum I’ve seen. This is also more focused on Alberta and the west because that’s where I’m from and lived through, I’m sure other people from across the country could give many of their own insights

[losergames]

Chop Shop is strictly 18+ for language, themes, and potential explicit content. 

🔗 - Game Intro | Bug Report | Ko-Fi

Episode Four is now available! (+ 59,000) - PLAY HERE

Debrief after your meeting with Inez.

Steal... or don't!

Yvonne has a secret.

2 more achievements.

And more!

This update comes with a patch (Version 1.2.3) For this update you will need to start a NEW SAVE. An updated inventory macro has been implemented and is not compatible with old saves. I really wish you didn't have to but it's what's best for the game and its longevity!

Patch notes + author notes are under the cut. If preferred, you can access them in game in the start menu.

STORY

PROLOGUE:

General edits and fixes.

More vague, as to not elicit any emotional connection to the crew for continuity.

EPISODE 01:

Added a new set of personality building choices when meeting KJ, Jonno, Natasha and Aiden at the bar.

EPISODE 02:

Tweaked the conversation with Dilani in the closing scene to reflect more on the situation. Added some more fearful dialogue and flavour text.

Other general edits and fixes.

EPISODE 03:

Fixed gaps and spacing issues.

Minor phrasing and sentence structure changes.

Grammar and typo fixes.

UI + TECHNICAL

SETTINGS:

Changing the font size now only applies to the game text in the passages.

Added descriptions to the toggleable settings.

UI:

The background now changes colour dependent on what theme you are using, instead of the default black.

INVENTORY:

The inventory macro has been updated! Previously V2, now V3 of the ChapelR Simple Inventory Macro.

CREATE A SAVE

Modified the randomise PC choice, setting pronouns in 'sets' instead of randomising each pronoun separately.

GAMEPLAY MODE

Players can now choose a gameplay mode when starting a new save: Regular or Challenge.

Challenge mode disables the back button, disallowing players to return to the previous passage. Players cannot redo dice rolls or try out different choices for desired outcomes.

Challenge mode is not available in Create A Save. All CAS made saves default to regular mode.

AN: hello hello! it has been a while -- episode 04 is finally here!

this ep was a long one to get through but we finally made it out of the fog. i found that i wrote a bunch of stuff that just... didn't fit? but is hopefully going to be used later down the line, so it's cool i've got shells of scenes for later.

i can't find any game breaking bugs myself and my amazing beta testers have scanned through as many possible variants as they can! of course, if there is anything funky, broken, or maybe not triggering correctly, please submit a bug report!

again i will say that you will need to start a NEW SAVE for this update. unfortunately the updated inventory macro is not compatible with previous saves. i really didn't want this to be a thing when updating chop shop but it is unfortunately just the way for this update - apologies!! i know it's super annoying when games do this but chop shop is still a wip so there will always be some teething problems along the way.

as i look through my notes, we have now completed act 1 of my outline (AAAAHH) so soooo exciting. finally pc can stop wringing their hands about being bad and actually //start// being bad.

if you've made it this far -- hello and thank you! i'm so happy we're at the point where PC is making some real decisions, taking another step into their life of crime.

happy update day and happy reading!! thank you so much for the continued support and patience!!! i hope you enjoy the new episode! - becky :-) <3

[reignpage]

Basketball Captain!Toji

Toronto Raptors: home win

Word Count: 5k Warnings: fluff mostly, a little angst, cursing, mentions of darker themes but nothing too serious, not proofread, final pre-relationship chapter, thus concluding toji's story for now,

“Come on,” is all Toji says when you open the door to his solid knocks. 

He doesn’t say anything else as you follow him out to his car, where you strap in, confused and unsure. Still in his gym clothes, you can tell he came straight from training, and there’s tension in his shoulders that’s usually all worked out after a good session bullying his teammates relentlessly.

The man just showed up, unannounced, at your door after noon. He didn’t greet you with a kiss or a sneaky squeeze of your ass. He simply urged you to follow him and so you did. Silent, uncharacteristically so, he just led you down. 

With a sigh, you breach the silence when he starts the car up. “It’s pretty cold outside, Fushiguro. I don’t understand how you can stand to be in shorts every day.”

“It’s not that cold, ma.” He snorts. His veins are prominent, bulging from how tense he is, but he eases his grip on the steering wheel enough for you to lose that fear he’ll veer off a bridge or something.

“Where are we going?”

He throws you a side glance, hand falling on onto your thigh with a squeeze that you can’t be sure he means to be comforting but rather just to cop a feel. Though you appreciate it, you can’t help but feel even more anxious.

“You wanted me to prove that I’ve changed, that I’m willing to change. For you. So, that’s what I’m doing.”

There’s a conviction in his eyes, a fire you only ever see when he’s playing a game, when he’s facing all the opposing players dotted along the court but all he sees is the way through to get to glory. In your short time of knowing Fushiguro, you’ve learnt that he’s a pretty laidback guy. Rarely does he ever get riled up.

His ability to remain calm under any situation is one of the many things you admire about him -- he was reliable when he helped you with your ex, when he made dinner every night as your roommate, and when he picks you up and drops you off all over campus for this and that. 

Though the boundaries of your relationship had never been established, you can’t help but feel like dating him wouldn’t be so bad. After all, that’s practically what you’ve been doing this entire time when he brings you coffee after your class or when he just shows up at your door randomly with an overnight bag. 

You like him. 

You’ve never denied it. 

But you’re not stupid. 

Toji Fushiguro is a manwhore. It’s a term you dislike, and you know he’s so much more than his sexual history, but that history is extensive. And though you’ve daydreamed you could be more than a notch on the proverbial bedpost, you’ve never deluded yourself into thinking that he’ll propose to you after a night of great sex. 

It would be unfair of you to expect him to change anyways. 

However, this past week or two, something about him had shifted. He’s become more serious around you. You could tell when he scolds you for your unhealthy diet consisting of overly sugary cereal and fruit-flavoured candies. Or when he actually takes the time to read your work and sends even just a quick message expressing his thoughts. 

Nowadays, he walks around with an arm around you and introduces you not as a friend but by your name and his friends seem to understand exactly what he means. Now, people know who you are and they stop to greet you in the hallways, and all you can do is stutter out an awkward greeting. 

It’s all so very odd. 

Is it possible he really means it when he says he wants you to be his girlfriend?

“You’re doing a lot of thinking right now, aren’t ya?” He asks. 

You didn’t even realise he’s parked already. You’re in an unfamiliar place: a very nice, wealthy area in West Eden. Up ahead, you see a picturesque estate often visited by flocks of tourists day in and day out. What with its tall, golden gates and lush garden, even grander than Eden’s National Park. 

It’s a mansion belonging to an old money family. Even you know their name. The same kind of name often associated with the Gojos and the Ryomens.

“What are we doing at the Zenin Manor?”

He doesn’t answer, simply exits the car and opens your door. The arm strung over your shoulder does absolutely nothing to quell that anxiety inside, because written all over Toji’s face is that very same uncertainty and dread you’re feeling.  

His brows are furrowed, there’s no smile on his face, and when he frowns like that, his scar becomes even more prominent. He licks his lips, searching for the indentation on his skin as he eyes the towering fence lining the entire property as far as the eye can see. 

He doesn’t say a word. 

There’s no comment about how you should dress warmer, or how your ass looks in your jeans or how dead to the world he feels after training. Nothing. Except for a squeeze of your hand when it reaches his on your shoulder. 

You’ve never seen him look so…small. 

He doesn’t lead you to the gates but rather down the street, following the metal fencing. The manor is gorgeous and old. It carries the weight of centuries of wealth, power and integrity. Everything is calculated to perfection, from the symmetrically aligned shrubbery to the shiny windows. There isn’t a single leaf out of place, no blade of grass taller than the other, and even the cars parked down the road are all freshly washed and polished. 

There’s no doubt about it; the Zenin Manor is a work of architectural art. 

But there’s something off about the whole place, something detached or clinical. Perhaps it’s because there are no people — not in the streets, not in the huge lawn, and not in any of the windows. It’s like a ghost town. Or maybe it’s because everything is too perfect, too symmetrical and clean.

You’ve heard rumours about ghosts living in the Manor, stories of children’s screams echoing in the depth of the night, of blood splatters on walls, of monsters lurking behind huge trees. You know the stories the locals pass around about the Zenins – they dabbled in dark magic and colluded with the devil. Their descendants possess otherworldly powers and those that don’t are cast away, rejected by their kin. 

It’s the kind of folklore that attracts the tourists to begin with; they love the contrast of the pristine beauty of the home with idea of the horrors that fill it. 

As far as the building and the family is concerned, however, that’s as much as you know. Which doesn’t exactly fill you with confidence now that Toji is leading you into a maze of roads and alleyways of sorts. 

The fencing off the main street is weaker, the metal rusted and the shrubs sharper and sparser. You’ve lost your bearing now that Toji is leading you here and there, guiding you back and forth, left and right. And the houses across the street are smaller, older, and tightly packed. That sterile front is long gone. 

He stops.

When you look up at the Manor once more, you’re surprised to find it’s farther in the distance from the fence and you’re staring at what seems to be the back garden —though you’re certain no one would call it a ‘garden’ when it more closely resembles a park. 

“Toji, I’m being serious. Why are we here?”

He sighs, arm leaving you and tucking itself in his hoodie pocket. Rocking on his feet, he jerks his head and replies, “There’s something I wanna show ya.”

You follow his gaze to a big cherry blossom tree, leaves rustling and petals flowing in the wind. It’s the only tree littering on the perfect grass and it’s pretty, as all cherry blossoms tend to be. But that isn’t what he’s looking at. 

No, Toji is looking at a little boy. 

He has black, spiky hair and wears a plain black shirt with shorts. He’s alone. Reading a book, he sits under the tree and is completely obvlivious to the two people watching him. 

If this was under any other circumstances, you wouldn’t think much more about the scene. Sure, you don’t know many little boys who read but reading a book isn’t a crime. It’s actually great for children, according to a study you read some time ago. 

But this boy is different. Not just because there’s a maturity to him that makes your heart ache, or the fact that a boy his age should be out with friends or at the very least should be watched by an adult, but because he bears a striking resemblance to the huge man beside you. 

“You have a son?” You screech. 

Toji snorts, hand flying to smush your face like you’re just too adorable not to squish. With an amused tone, he scolds, “Don’t jump to conclusions, ma. I’ve never not wrapped it before I tapped it.”

“Okay, so why are we staring at this kid? Tell me it’s not because this is a hobby of yours ‘cause I swear to god, if you need to be on a register, I’m gonna…well, I don’t actually know what I’d do but I’ll do something.”

He doesn’t look impressed with your little rant. In fact, he doesn’t even grace you with a response and instead puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly. 

You wince. 

The boy looks up, head jolting and gaze piercing right through you immediately. He sets his book down and runs over. Somehow, he looks even smaller when he reaches the fence, barely at your hip. He looks completely suspicious of you but says nothing. 

“Hey, kid,” Toji says, bending down to a squat. “How ya been?”

The little boy shrugs and holds the fence in his tiny hands. “Good. Who’s the pretty lady?”

There’s a look of pride that steals your breath when Toji looks up at you. He has that handsome smile on his face, the one that stretches his scar out and crinkles his eyes. The very same smile he gives you when he scores, and his eyes finds yours in the crowd. A smile that makes your heart beat a mile a minute and threatens to knock you on your feet. 

“This,” Toji announces with an exaggerated gesture to you, “is ma girl.” 

It isn’t the first time you’ve heard him say that, but it sure does feel like it. You release a shaky smile, bending down too to meet the little boy’s inquisitive gaze full on. Mustering a nurturing tone, you introduce yourself. “Hi, I’m y/n. What’s your name?”

“Megumi. He mentions you a lot when he visits. I thought you weren’t real, but I guess you are so, hi.”

“Oi, don’t be rude, ya little brat.” Nudging Toji and giving him a look, you urge him to explain further. “Oh, right. This is my little brother. Pain in my ass but he’s smart so I think I have to be nice to him when he becomes rich and shit.”

Aghast, you hiss, “Do you make it a habit of swearing in front of your brother?”

Something passes through his eyes, a spark of surprise and warmth, one that you can’t quite place. But you don’t have time to ponder it because shouting comes from the distance. 

“Shit, we gotta do. Come on, Megs,” Toji urges. 

With expert agility, the boy manoeuvres himself through the metal bars of the fence and reaches his arms up so he can be carried by his brother, who jerks his chin, signalling to run. 

You do. 

Ignoring the shouting behind you, you run through the maze of alleyways and roads, dodging trees and branches, and pumping your legs to keep up with the athlete in front of you. Despite holding up someone else’s weight, he runs incredibly fast. You’re not sure why you’re surprised and impressed considering he’s a basketball player but it’s all you can think about when you finally reach his car and strap in. 

Megumi sits in the back, fingers drumming on his bare knees as Toji drives off. 

You’re trying to catch your breath, panting embarrassingly whilst the other two seem unfazed, like the whole ordeal hadn’t happened, like Toji Fushiguro, captain of Eden University’s Varsity Basketball team, hasn’t just kidnapped a child from one of the country’s wealthiest families. 

“Gotta calm down, ma. Y’r gonna pop a blood vessel with how hard y’r grinding your teeth,” he advices, totally amused.

There’s no drop of sweat on his forehead, no flush on his cheeks, or a heave of his chest. He’s cool, calm and collected, and you hate him so much right now. 

“Fushiguro, tell me you didn’t just steal this boy away from his family.”

Toji’s jaw clenches. “I am his family.”

You groan, exasperated. What does any of this have to do with him begging to be your boyfriend? 

Does he think kidnapping impresses girls nowadays? Or maybe he thinks you’re the kind of girl who’s always wanted to be behind bars?

“Is this the right thing to do? Won’t we get into trouble?”

“We do this all the time,” the little boy remarks. He doesn’t look bothered at all, either. In fact, he smiles at you, teeth missing and gums showing, like he’s aware of the absurdity of the situation and is rubbing salt on the wound. 

You screech again, hands flailing as you heave for air. “I’m too young to go to prison, Toji. I can’t. I wouldn’t look very inspirational as a fugitive. And I don’t know how to fashion shanks out of forks!”

“She’s funny,” Megumi notes.

Toji laughs. He fucking laughs. 

“This isn’t funny, Fushiguro. Take him back. Take him back and explain that you found him wandering the streets or something.” 

Toji stops laughing. 

“No. I’m not taking him back. Not until I absolutely have to.”

He’s too casual about the whole thing, like he didn’t just make you an accessory to a crime. And it’s pissing you off in ways that’s making your brain malfunction. You’ve always known getting involved with him would bring you trouble but you assumed that trouble would manifest in a few jealous girls. 

That you could handle. 

Law enforcement? 

Your other hand reaches for the door handle, contemplating the possibility of jumping out and claiming he kidnapped you too. The door clicks. He locked you in. 

When you look up at him, he gives you a knowing smile, hand on the gearstick leaving to hold your thigh instead. You swat it away. Then, with a resigned sigh, he begins his explanation. 

“Listen. I know ya think this is crazy, and yeah, it kinda is. But he’s my brother. And I’m not doing anything to harm him. If anything, this is good for him.”

“Good? This is good for him? What are you talking about?” You stare in disbelief. 

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, it is good. ‘Cause you have no idea what those people do to him. They’re fucking insane. They never let him out. He never gets to play. He doesn’t even know any kids his age.”

“It’s the Zenin family. They’re all over the news. Would they actually abuse a child? Like, wouldn’t they want to avoid bad press?”

Both Megumi and Toji scoff. 

If they didn’t already resemble each other physically, that arrogant noise would have screamed their relation to each other. Guess being annoying runs in the family. 

“They control the media, babe. They decide what goes out on the papers. Trust me, I know.”

You gulp. He’s not suggesting he’s experienced it first hand, has he? 

His last name is Fushiguro, not Zenin. How could he be related to that family? 

He’s never been pictured with them, never mentioned his connection, and no one, not even in your Insider’s Line has that ever been whispered. But of course, he must be related somehow. His brother is a Zenin child, after all. 

“Y’r thinking that ‘cause my last name is Fushiguro, I’m not a Zenin, right?” Your silence is all the answer he needs. “I am a Zenin. Was raised as one. But I don’t want anything to do with them, so I changed my name as soon as I was eighteen. Emancipated myself and shit.”

Your voice is a little more than a whisper when you ask, “What did they do to you, Toji?”

He squeezes your thigh, thumb brushing before he answers, “They’re not good people. They don’t care about how far they push ya as long as they get results. They’ve started doing the same to Megs and I can’t get him outta there but I gotta, y’know? Even just for a little while. So he can get some fresh air, eat some fucking candy like a normal child or something.”

“They know it’s you, though, right?”

“Yeah. They bombard me with threats and shit, asking me to return him but it’s only when they show up at my door that I let him go. But I hate doing it every time. Hate having to say goodbye knowing he’s going back to that hellhole whilst I get to be free or whatever. Don’t look at me like that. Don’t pity us. We’re not a fucked-up charity case.”

You hold the hand on your lap, bringing it up to your mouth to lay a kiss along his knuckles. “I know.”

Neither of you mention the shake in your hand.

Toji pulls up to a drive through, ordering a bunch of junk food he’d always turned his nose up before but scarfs them down eagerly. He let Megumi order everything he wanted from the menu, even two milkshakes and a bunch of burgers no child could possibly finish. With no mention of the elephant in the car, you all feast on the mountain of greasy food from oiled up paper bags. 

Soon, the little boy is knocked out, crumbs all over his shorts and ketchup on his chin, a look of utter contentment on his face as he dozes off. 

You’re cleaning up the mess, crumpling up the papers and stuffing them into a big bag, busying yourself as Toji leans on a bent elbow through the window. You can tell he’s got a lot on his mind; he keeps looking at his brother through the rear-view mirror. 

Though you don’t think of them as a charity case, you do feel pity. It’s a situation you would never want to be in and it’s one they should never have to live through. But they do and you have no idea how to help. To think, that all this time, he’s been worrying for his brother, balancing his weird, messed up family history with his degree and games. You would have never figured it out. 

He’s always joking around, always working hard and living easy. How he has any time for taking care of a child, you would never know.

“He’s pretty cute, isn’t he?”

Toji is startled when you speak, almost as if he’s forgotten where he is. The tension in his face wears away though and his gaze softens when he takes in your adoring smile. Hand rising, he thumbs away a sauce in the corner of your lips before he leans forward, lips meeting yours.

It’s not rough and messy the way he kisses you before he’s ripping your clothes off as he pins you to the wall. It’s soft and gentle. A kiss just to feel and taste you. A kiss that shows his appreciation and you return it.

“Y’r a champ,” he says against your lips. 

You giggle. “I didn’t do anything.”

He playfully bites your bottom lip before he argues, “Ya did a lot. I’m always nervous doing this. The sneaking around and shit, but it helped that you were here.”

You kiss him again, hands cradling his face. 

The sun is setting and it’s growing colder outside but being in the warmth of your own little cocoon with Toji holding you close washes away any worries about what tomorrow will bring. 

“This is why I brought ya here,” he begins. “I wanted to show ya a different part of me. Wanted to explain some things.”

You shake your head. 

“You don’t need to explain anything you’re not ready to.”

He pecks your lips and with a laugh, he says, “You’re too sweet, ma. But I wanna. D’ya remember when you caught me with that girl in my place?”

You pull away. 

“Oh, come on, don’t get all mad again. I’m explaining that it was a misunderstanding. Well, kinda. I was sleeping with her, yeah. But not ‘cause I liked her or anything.”

Swatting his groping hands away, you scoff. “Are you seriously telling me you slept with her because you hate her?”

Toji laughs again. “Nah, ‘course not. Barely even knew her. She just works part time as a maid in that place. She takes care of him sometimes.”

“So?”

He grabs your thigh again. “So, I used her to keep tabs on him. Women tend to be more loose lipped after an orgasm or two.”

You’re blinking rapidly, trying to process the information. “You slept with her just to keep an eye on your brother?”

Shrugging like there’s absolutely nothing remotely crazy about that, he replies, “Yeah. Been doing it for a while. Not since then, actually. But since I ran away. Not just her, either. Anyone who can tell me what’s going on in that house. Sometimes, Megs can’t come out and he doesn’t leave for weeks and I just gotta know he’s safe, that they haven’t done something to him. I need to know that I’ll see him again.”

“Oh.”

It’s a pretty pathetic thing to say but it’s the only thing you can muster after an admission like that. Though it explains your relevance to the whole thing, you’re not sure exactly what he’s trying to say. Or maybe you are, and you just need to hear him say it. Maybe you need to hear it from his very lips, need to be sure that whatever’s going on between you isn’t just a fling, something to pass the time.

“Why are you telling me this, Toji? Spell it out for me.”

His piercing green eyes meet yours and there’s that warmth there again. It robs you of your breath and when his hand winds around your neck to bring you close, you don’t resist.

“I haven’t slept with anyone in over a month. Only you. Apart from my fuck ugly roommate, y’r the only one who knows about Megs, who knows about my past. Y’r the only one I trust enough to be around him. And I’ve never let anyone wear my jersey except for you. Y’r the only woman I’ve slept with more than like three times and I want to do it again and again and never stop. But that’s not the only reason I want to date you. Y’r fucking amazing. Y’r smart in ways I don’t really get, y’r funny and incredible and I fucking love ya. I think. I’ve never been in love before so I still gotta figure some shit out but I’m fairly certain.”

He kisses you again, hiding the heat in his cheeks and the nervous furrowing of his brows.

This time he kisses you with so much passion and fire you’re moaning into his mouth, and he swallows it with a bruising kiss. His possessive hands are everywhere, holding you close, feeling your body and you’re exploring his too, despite knowing it so well already. Neither of you can get enough of the warmth you’re generating. 

“I want to be with ya. And I know ya think I’m still sleeping around or something, but I’m not. I swear. I won’t sleep with anyone else. I’ll figure out how to keep tabs on Megs but don’t worry about it. We’ll be fine. I just want ya to know what y’r getting into if ya say yes to me.”

There’s an unsteadiness to his words as he mutters them against your lips, a quake and quiver you’ve never heard him have before. The way he holds you is lighter than usual too, like he’s expecting you to run away and never turn back, or he’s worried you’ll be swiped away. 

He looks so boyish in this very moment, so unsure of himself, so shy, you can’t help but smile. You brush over the bristles on his jaw and breathe in his musky scent, wholly enamoured with the strength you find in his body. 

“I do, Toji,” you breathe out. “I like you, too. I liked you a lot already and then you tell me you’re a really sweet guy who would do anything for his little brother? Fuck, I’d say yes if you asked me to elope.”

You’re joking. You think. It’s hard to tell when he’s kissing you again. 

“Let’s make it official, ma. Take me off the List.”

You gasp. “W-why? Don’t you like being on there? What about getting the best of Gojo?”

Toji skims his nose over the length of your neck, inhaling deeply before he mutters, “Don’t care about that freak. As long as ya like me, that’s good enough. Ya can still write about how hot I am and shit, won’t stop you there, but if I’m y’r boyfriend, people might accuse ya of favouritism.”

“You’re doing this to defend my journalistic integrity?” You jest, a low moan stuck in your throat as you rake your fingers through his hair.

He hums, lips dragging over your jaw to meet yours again. “Of course. Not gonna let anyone suggest ma girl is biased, even if she totally should be.”

Groaning in your mouth when you arch your chest into his hand, he tightens his hold and leans even closer. You’re losing yourself in the pleasure, that rush of something addictive as he lays it all out for you, and you greedily take everything.

You want more. You want all of him.

“Toji,” you whine.

Someone clears their throat. 

You part ways, panting.

“I’m still here,” is all Megumi says. 

Toji laughs and throws a balled-up tissue at the boy who slaps it away with a disgusted look on his face. “Had a good nap, kid?”

“I was until you started making kissing noises. Ew.”

You laugh and reach behind to give his knee an apologetic squeeze. Using a tissue, you wipe up that ketchup on his chin that’s been bothering you. Megumi doesn’t say a word, still eyeing you with suspicion, but he also doesn’t resist when you squeeze his teeny tiny hands. He’s just too cute. 

With a final look around at you and his brother, Toji starts up the car. “Alright, where to next?”

You don’t hesitate to announce, “My dorm.”

The car is lighter when he begins driving again. There’s a gleeful shine in his eyes as he throws you glances and clutches your hand. Your cheeks are hurting from how much you’re smiling but you don’t stop, you wouldn’t be able to even if you try. Something plays on the radio, and you hum under your breath, watching the scenery pass by. 

Megumi, lulled by the journey, falls back asleep and, after parking, Toji carries him in his arms as you lead the way to your room, making sure to keep quiet. Once inside, he lays him on the bed, tucking him in and brushing his hair back. 

For a little boy, he’s very well behaved. He sits quietly, listens and cleans up after himself. He doesn’t cry, doesn’t complain or get pouty. That just saddens you more. Sweeping his little figure, he looks a little lonely on a plain bed, hidden under feminine sheets.

There’s something wrong with the sight of a child alone at night and you know just how to fix it.

You ignore your boyfriend’s confused look when you venture over to your desk and pluck up the gift bag covered in dust. There’s no shame or embarrassment in the air as you finally address that looming object in your room, taking up space and reminding you of how quickly you opened your heart up. 

“I was gonna give this to you, but I think he’d appreciate it more,” you whisper. 

Toji takes offence to that and wrestles you into him, peppering attacks against your neck with his lips and tickling your sides. You fight him off with a barely restrained giggle. Fixing him a stern look, you distract him from touching you up by ripping the bag open and showing him what’s inside. 

“You made these?”

Shrugging, you explain, “There’s a crocheting society. I joined it so I could spy on the president because apparently, she’s been sleeping with a professor. I thought it would make for a good story.”

“Was she?”

You shake your head. “No. But she was sleeping with her cousin, so that was interesting.”

Toji snorts. 

“That happens way too damn often on this campus.”

“It really does!” You agree, with a look of disbelief. “Someone needs to do something.”

He comes up behind you, arms wrapping around your body and chin resting on your head as you both watch Megumi sleep soundly. It hurts your heart to think that the only fun the kid gets is when Toji finds the time and the opportunity to steal him away once in a while. And it hurts your heart even more to know that they have to say goodbye and wonder when the next time will come, if there’ll even be one.

Toji hums. “Kinda jealous he gets to have those all to himself.”

“You would have had them f you didn’t whore yourself out, Fushiguro.” 

He gropes your breast in apology. 

Placing the two handmade toys beside Megumi, you smile as he clutches them subconsciously, holding them close and inhaling deeply. Finally, the scene looks right. A child shouldn’t be without a toy, and from now on, he won’t be alone. 

Because, in his hands are two dogs, black and white, who’ll protect him from all that’s bad in the world now that they’ve been introduced to each other. Together, they’ll find a way to free him so that he can be with his real family. It might not be today or tomorrow, but eventually. It’s not good enough but it’ll have to. That’s what they both deserve. 

“Wanna fuck in the bathroom?” 

“Toji! Can you keep it your pants for one fucking second? Like seriously!”

[linkcharacter]

I find it interesting when people call Jimmy an unreliable narrator. There’s not really any narrating done in the traditional sense, and we don’t even hear a lot of his inner thoughts. Do they mean “narrator” as in our view of the world and characters are shaped by his POV through interactions and visuals, instead of a verbal, descriptive narration?

Please THANK YOU EXACTLY I WANTED TO TALK ABOUT THIS SO BAD ACTUALLY.

My opinion is that people like to shove terms that vaguely fit the story of Mouthwashing anywhere they can, same with describing characters (Curly for example) as "morally grey". Which in my opinion is reductive and doesn't represent who the character is, it's defined enough for people to 'kinda' be on the same page but also vague enough that it doesn't accurately describe the character and blurs the complexity that makes the character interesting.

I wouldn't apply the term "unreliable narrator" to Jimmy. His perspective of what we are allowed to see in game is limited, but we see exactly what happens, just through Jimmy's eyes. Jimmy isn't twisting the narrative for the viewer because he's NOT NARRATING. Mouthwashing is a game with no narration to tell the story. Sure, characters talk about the events, but they're not talking to the player, and an unreliable narrator's purpose from a storytelling point, is to deceive or mislead the viewer. I think trying to shove storytelling terms anywhere it fits doesn't work and just confuses a lot of people. The game itself plays around with the narrative and reveals things and structures the story in ways to manipulate our perception, like allowing only certain small sections of events to be seen, and ordered in a way to play with our thoughts and attention.

Jimmy's perspective and presence change the attitude of characters, but this isn't "unreliable narration", it's the reality of how characters act with Jimmy around. I kinda understand what people mean when they say he's an unreliable narrator, that we shouldn't take Jimmy's POV as the whole truth at face value, but that's not because the 'narrative' is being twisted, we just have to take into account the context of the situation. The players aren't being deceived, they're being required to think about nuances. And even when Jimmy starts having his episodes with hallucinations, it's not to deceive the viewer, it's showing us how JIMMY HIMSELF sees reality, we can very clearly disconnect what is being shown from the context of what is actually going on. The dinner scene, for example, is obviously just has Jimmy tweak out, but we as players can tell that it's not real, there's no misleading happening. And we see how Jimmy talks to others during gameplay, we see Jimmy be abusive to others and be a jerk and perform manipulation, there's no narration to make us believe he's not doing all of these things or to even conceal or twist the truth. Jimmy as a character with his words does manipulate others, but not the viewer. You can say Jimmy is an unreliable narrator within the reality of the game, but he's definitely not if we're talking about meta.

The bizarro sequences are a bit different because there's clearly some meta "showing the viewer symbolisms to have them connect ideas of the story, while not being grounded in reality for the characters in the game" stuff going on, but again, there's no narration nor is there a point to confuse the viewer. The point is to show the themes of the story in an interesting and impactful way that leaves a lot to analyze, you're not being deceived, you just have to think about it and see what the game is trying to show, it's encouraging you to look deeper into the story. Mouthwashing IS NOT a game with a clear-cut clean concrete story with no room for interpretation.

[yeosatinyngz]

(rules anon) I was just wondering if you could do something similar to your forgot your bday ask u got? but they forgot your anniversary bc they were hanging out with the Mc? hurt and comfort or hurt and no comfort whatever you decide (but u totes don't have to do this tho if it makes you uncomfortable!)

I apologize for the delay, I was bombarded with school work and studying but I’m finally done with the semester and have the time to write your request, hope you like it! <3

THEY FORGET YOUR ANNIVERSARY

↳Fem! Non MC Reader | Angst w/ comfort | NOT PROOFREAD

Lies were the very thing you were feeding yourself with when you heard no response from your partner, cause surely there was no way he had forgotten the anniversary of when you both got together.

You sent out your usual good morning text to him but many hours have passed by to the point where the sun was currently setting. You had your message chat with him opened, staring at it hoping it will somehow lead to him miraculously messaging you back. But to no avail, your text remained unanswered.

You release a deep sigh and close your phone. You needed to distract your mind off of your current situation so you decided to go outside for a walk to clear your head. You were enjoying the breeze until you heard a familiar laugh, the laugh that belonged to your beloved. 

You turned around to see him walking alongside his colleague, mc. They looked so happy and perfect together, as if they were destined to be together. Oh, you thought to yourself while your heart shattered into a million pieces. You couldn’t bear to witness the scene before you anymore so you quickly left.

You made it back home and slammed the door shut. That’s when everything you held back in you just came falling apart. Your body trembled as your legs gave out on you, you landed on the floor with a thud as the tears started to roll down your eyes. You don’t even know how long you were crying until the door opened with the very man you were despairing over. 

“Honey I’m home-” That’s when he realized the current state you were in, he quickly rushed over to check up on you, “What’s wrong my love?” He asks so softly while his hand reaches out to attempt to wipe away your tears. You were quick to smack his hand away and turned your head away from him. 

Shakily letting out a breath of air, you turn back to look him straight into his eyes with fury, firmly declaring, “Let’s break up.” His eyes immediately widened as he frantically grabbed your hands. “Please don’t say that, at least tell me why.” He looked at you with those dangerous puppy dog eyes of his that were brimming with tears.

You scoffed and yanked your hands away from his, “Isn’t forgetting our anniversary and hanging out with another girl reason enough?” He goes quiet and you can’t help but let out a bitter laugh, “You got your reason, now leave.” 

You couldn’t stand the sight of him anymore and you were ready to get up but he pulled you down towards him, tightly wrapping you into his embrace. “Hey! What are you doing?! Let go of me!” You protest as you squirm in his arms. “Please,” He lets out weakly, “Just listen to me.” 

Seeing that you weren’t protesting anymore, Xavier continued on, “While I have no excuse for forgetting our anniversary, I was only with mc because we were assigned a mission together and were just catching up afterwards.” “You looked a little too happy, you were giggling with her and all”  you huffed. “She was teasing me about you and saying how cute we were together. You should know that I have eyes on no one else but you.”

“And yet you forgot our anniversary.” “...There’s no arguing that, I’m sorry.” He truly looked so sad and his signature puppy dog eyes were back and working its magic on you, “Please let me make it up to you.” You sigh, giving in to his pouty state, “Alright” He immediately brightened from this word alone “But you will have to do your best because you are still not forgiven.” “I promise!”

He kept his promise as he surprised you the very next day with a beautiful arrangement of flowers (that he harassed Jeremiah to help him with over night, poor dude does not get paid enough), spoiling you with all of your favorite food (he wanted to cook and bake everything himself but we all know why he decided to order delivery instead), gifting you a matching set of necklace (His had your initial while yours had an X), and of course caring to all your needs.

You decided to go visit Rafayel instead of just waiting around for a response that you won’t be getting anytime soon. However, once you got to his studio you came to realize that he wasn’t home either. Strange, you thought to yourself. Where could he be at this time? 

The only person that could possibly know your boyfriend’s whereabouts was Thomas so you went ahead and gave him a call. To your luck, he was quick to pick up, “Sorry to bother you Thomas but do you happen to know where Rafayel is?” “I’m not exactly sure where he is right now but I remember mc saying she was going to pick him up.” “Oh…thanks for letting me know.” “Yeah no problem.” He says while you quickly say bye to him and hang up the call.

It took everything in you to not lose your mind right now. The grip you had on your phone was so intense it probably wasn’t far from being broken into pieces. You tried calming yourself down and decided to settle on his couch for the meanwhile. You were going to wait until he came back.

It felt like an eternity waiting for Rafayel to come back, your mind kept spiraling the more the seconds passed by and you just needed him to hurry up so you could confront him and get it over with. 

As if your prayers were heard, the door to the studio door opened and in walked your beautiful boyfriend, well soon to be ex boyfriend accompanied with his bodyguard. His eyes were quick to find your figure sitting on your coach and he jumped back in surprise, “Oh you scared me, what are you doing here cutie?” 

That’s when he noticed the nasty glare you were giving him and your arms crossed over each other. He mentally panics, Uh oh, I fucked up. “Oh you should be scared, Rafayel.” He felt chills go down his spine from your cold words. That’s when mc awkwardly coughs and speaks up, “Uh I think I’ll excuse myself” before she quickly dashed out the door leaving you two in awkward silence. 

Rafayel was quick to rush to your side, dramatically dropping down to his knees and planting his face into your lap. He lifts his chin up and looks up at you while begging for forgiveness, “Please forgive me cutie, you can do whatever you want with me just please don’t be mad anymore.” 

His eyes were filled with despair as he waited anxiously for your response, his pout deepening the longer you delayed your response. “I’ll let you guess what you did wrong.” His brain freezes as he tries to come up with all the possibilities. You grabbed his chin to force him to look into your eyes, “You forgot our anniversary and chose to go out with that bodyguard of yours.” 

He mentally curses himself, “I’m sorry cutie, I’ve been working on this piece for the past week nonstop and got the dates mixed up, I swear it wasn’t on purpose. The reason I was out with Miss bodyguard is because I was getting some materials to finish up my piece.” 

Without even waiting for your response he got up and dragged you along with him to unveil the canvas that was hidden underneath a cloth. You could tell that it was unfinished but it was no doubt that what he painted was you. You unconsciously let out a gasp because you couldn’t believe what your eyes were witnessing.

Rafayel has painted you in a way where no one else in this world can ever come close to replicating, he drew your likeness in such an ethereal way that it left you speechless. “I- Is this how you see me?” He nods, “I’m ashamed to show you the unfinished product but this piece doesn’t even come close to showcasing your beauty, you continue to inspire me everyday cutie so I hope you can forgive me.” You threw yourself at him and crushed him into a hug. “You are more than forgiven, I love you so much Raf.” He plants a kiss on your temple, “I love you so much you don’t even know.”

Sighing, you went along with your last resort, calling Greyson. You dislike wasting their precious time when they’re on the clock but you’re sure Greyson can spare you maybe a minute or two compared to Zayne. Your heart drums even faster as the seconds prolonged from him picking up the phone.

Finally you hear Greyson’s voice fill your ear, “What’s up?” “Sorry to bother you Greyson but I just wanted to know how Zayne was doing.” “It’s no bother really, he actually left a while ago.” “Oh is that so?” “Yeah, his last patient today was mc and they left together about maybe forty five minutes ago.” You remained silent as your mind started coming up with different scenarios, you were quickly pulled out of your thoughts by Greyson calling out to you. “Sorry about that, thanks for telling me, have a good night.” “You too.”

Then the call ends, leaving you alone with all your doubtful thoughts. You sat at the couch waiting there for Zayne to come back but as the hours passed you were hopeless. 

You don’t even know what time it was or when you even fell asleep but you awoke to keys jingling and the front door opening. You slowly got up and walked up to him, “How come you’re home so late?” “Sorry about that, mc invited me over for dinner since grandma Josephine wanted to see me.” 

“Well you could’ve told me ahead of time, I wouldn’t have made dinner and waited on your return then” your words came out a little harsher than you wanted and Zayne took notice. You walked over to the dining table to clear out all the food and he followed after you to also help.

That’s when he freezes, in the middle of the table sat a cake with the words ‘Happy Anniversary’ in your handwriting. He looks up at you but you pay him no attention. “You made this cake?” You look back at him with cold eyes, “Yeah but it doesn’t matter anymore, you can toss it out since there’s nothing to celebrate.” You were done putting everything in the fridge and you walked out of the kitchen. “I’ll be heading to bed first, I’m taking the guest bedroom.” 

Before you could take another step Zayne reaches out and grabs your hand, you were too tired for this. You turned around and looked him in his eyes while you pried his hand off yours, “Can we not do this right now? I’m exhausted and don’t want to deal with this.” “Please”, his hazel eyes were swimming with regret as they pleaded with you to listen. You manage to grumble out a “You have five minutes.”

“It was not my intention to forget our special day, I’ve been overwhelmed recently with work and it all messed with my head. I'm truly so sorry and I know empty words won’t do anything for you at this moment but I will make it my duty to make it up to you just please don’t leave me, you’re the only person in this world I can’t bear to lose.” 

You reached up and cupped his face with both of your hands, “I’m not going to leave you, you dummy. I just want you to rely on me and communicate with me more when you’re tired. A relationship consists of two people, let us both carry the same amount of weight. But don’t think you’re off the hook about forgetting our anniversary though, you’re still on thin ice mister.” He lets out a small laugh, “Duly noted.”

You checked in with the twins about Sylus’s schedule in advance and they confirmed that he would be out during the afternoon today. You set out to the N109 Zone, specifically his place so that you could plan out surprising him for your anniversary.

It took you lots of time and effort with putting up all the decorations and manually blowing up the balloons. After everything was done you rested on the couch for a while.

You still have plenty of time till his return so you were currently helping his chef prepare his favorite dishes. You put extra care into making the food since it was a special occasion. You couldn’t wait to surprise Sylus.

It was about time Sylus should be returning so you closed all the lights, hiding behind the couch, itching for the right moment to jump out and surprise the love of your life.

Suddenly, you heard the door open. This was the moment, prepare yourself. The lights turn on and you hear footsteps coming closer to you. You jumped out yelling surprise ready to pop the confetti until you came face to face with Kieran, with Luke behind him.

“Huh, where’s Sylus?” Kieran speaks up, “Boss had another unexpected business meeting so he’ll be back a little later.” “Oh” You sigh dejectedly. They try to cheer you up but you just slumped back onto the couch.

An hour has passed and still no trace of Sylus. At this point you looked so sad that Luke offered to call Sylus to see where he was at. Luke puts his phone on speaker so that you could also hear.

Soon you heard the deep silky voice that belonged to your partner, “What is it?” “I was just wondering when you’ll be home.” “I still haven’t wrapped things up with Miss Hunter yet so it’ll still take a while.” “Oh ok, please try to get home as soon as you can.” “I’ll try.”

Luke nervously looks at you after he ends the call. You laughed and a chill ran down both the twin’s back. “Miss, are you ok?” Kieran asks. Catching your breath after you laughed you responded, “How can I be ok after finding out the man I love forgot our anniversary and is out with this girl he frequently has business meetings with.”

You abruptly got up and went to gather your things with you. “W- where are you going?” Luke shakily asks. “I’m going home and neither of you guys are stopping me.” “Please reconsider!” Kieran pleaded, you threw him a death glare and walked towards the door, proceeding to open it and slam it on your way out. You felt bad for getting angry at the twins but your emotions got the better of you.

Sylus just got back and as soon as he opened the door he was welcomed with the sight of the twins panicking and shouting at him. “Boss, why didn’t you pick up your phone? We were calling you for so long, this is an emergency!!” “My phone died.” “You’re in big trouble boss.” “Huh?” Obviously confused by the commotion the twins pushed him to the living room.

He took in the sight and noticed the ‘Happy Anniversary’ banner. That’s when his heart drops, oh he messed up real bad. He wanted to beat himself but there were more pressing matters. “Either one of you give me your phone.” Once a phone was handed to him he quickly went to find your contact and called you.

However, it’s been the tenth time he’s calling you and you still haven’t picked up. As he was giving up you finally picked up, “Ugh would you quit spam calling me Kieran?” “Sweetie, I'm so sorry.” “Oh it’s you, I’m hanging up.” you said coldly. “Wait-” You wasted no time in ending the call. You were also quick to block Sylus and the twin’s numbers.

You were tired after everything that happened today so you drifted off to sleep. You don’t know how long you were sleeping but you woke up to a loud crash, jolting you up in your bed. You looked around to check the source of the noise and noticed that your balcony door was broken, the glass pieces shattered around your floor.

Then you feel a gush of wind as a familiar black and dark red mist surrounds you tightening you into a hold. You looked up and found yourself staring into a pair of shining scarlet eyes. “Let me go you psycho!” “Not until you listen to me.” You roll your eyes, “Not like you gave me any other option.”

He chuckles while walking towards you. Stopping when he’s directly in front of you. “I’m here to beg you for forgiveness, I’m sorry for neglecting you on our special day. I’ll do anything for your forgiveness, hell I’ll even grovel.” The gleam in your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed. Needless to say, Sylus did his part and earned your forgiveness.

[plaidcowboy]

છ rafe’s not the jealous type

“man, where’s the rest of it, huh?” rafe brought the bottle to his lips, knocking back the rest of its contents, setting it down on the table beside him.

he looked over to the guy that spoke. he didn’t feel like playing with the guy, so he cut to it. “you see anymore than that?”

the guy’s gaze turned from you to rafe. he chuckled hesitantly. “nah.. that’s what i’m liking” he smirked.

“i like it too.. i told her it looks pretty before we made our way out” rafe watched you mingle with others, giggling at what someone told you.

the guy stilled. “oh.. didn’t know that was yours.. didn’t know she was anyone’s being out looking like that” he tried to keep up the bro talk.

rafe shrugged. “she’s wearing what she wants to” rafe responded, bored of the conversation. he had no problem with any revealing clothes you may wear. you liked it. rafe liked whatever you liked, sometimes even more than you. that’s all there was to it.

“i would just watch out for guys that’ll look.. i know i am” he kept up the smirk.

rafe shook his head, amused with the guy. “look, sure, i know how good she looks. you wouldn’t be able to do anything else”

rafe grinned as you turned a little to show off your dress to someone. why not show it off? he was proud when you flaunted yourself because you deserved it if it wasn’t coming from him.

he was used to people commenting on your looks and making suggestive comments. people admire pretty things, it’s nothing new. you were all his pretty thing. no one else’s.

touching though, was something else. you wouldn’t mess with a pretty painting at a gallery. it’s disrespectful to the owner.

he avoided violence in front of you. and what better way to solve disputes than with words instead of fists.

“that wasn’t so respectful, was it? to me or her”

they would shake their heads silently.

“right.. so it’s only right you apologize. it made her uncomfortable, and i don’t like that. a sorry would make her feel better”

they would stutter. “uh.. i’m sorry..”

“nah” rafe would suck his teeth, shaking his head. “repeat after me.. ma’am, it was disrespectful of me to touch something so pretty i wasn’t worthy of touching.. i’ll be more respectful towards women”

they would relay the apology.

rafe would turn to you, waiting for your forgiveness or rejection. whichever you felt, rafe did as well. it wasn’t his position to choose for you, he wasn’t the lady who received unwanted interactions. he knew this, so how these situations would go was always up to you.

you would look up at rafe, speaking to him rather than the other person. “it’s okay”

rafe would look at them. “say thank you”

or

you would look up at rafe, softly shaking your head.

rafe would look at the guy. “i don’t accept either. get out of her face.”

you skipped over to rafe and he slightly bent down, ready to hear whatever you seemed excited to share.

“rafe, this girl just called my dress pretty” you said, giddily, twisting yourself and the dress.

rafe smiled. “did she? that’s nice of her..”

rafe looked at the guy. “you have anything to say about the dress?”

you turned to the guy expectantly, excited to receive another compliment.

“uh..” the guy shook his head, suddenly awkward. “nah”

rafe frowned. “nah man, you just had so much to say” rafe didn’t repeat his words, not wanting to upset you. whenever he could keep you from hearing the unsettling comments made about you, he would. nothing could dim your happiness when you were with him.

the guy glanced away, scoffing.

“why don’t you just apologize. save her from getting mad at you”

the guy rolled his eyes. “nah man, i’m good..” rafe stopped him, grabbing his arm when he tried to walk away.

“that wasn’t a request”

the guy gulped, glancing over at you. “look, my bad..”

rafe tsk’d, shaking his head. he gave him the prompt, telling him to repeat the words. he did, and rafe turned to you, awaiting your response.

you looked up at rafe with eyes. “um.. should i?” you weren’t ever aware what the guy said after all.

“nah, baby, that’s all up to you”

you glanced between the two in front of you. “it’s fine”

rafe turned to the guy.

“say thank you.”

[mysticalpruneflapshepherd]

It's beautiful!

This gives the amazing chance to create even more misunderstandings when suddenly Sqq(Sy) gets hit with another bad cultivation deviation or whatever that was only to wake up as Sj.

Then Sy is thrust into this demon's body!

Imagine the confusion! The panic! The heartbreak!

Then Sy's confusion and his inevitable grief, because what if he's just been thrust into another world? Just now when he was getting used to being happy?

Then his panic is put aside, because he recognized the face of the demon he's possessing. He remembers this plot! It was something about a demon looking too much like someone the Demon Emperor hated, who also had a hot sister that fell into the royal harem, so therefore was disposed of rather fast.

It's the moment Sy finds that this demon sister of this body has a similar character to his real meimei. He takes to the big brother role real fast here. He grows attached to this family he's never met but has been hearing so much about from his new meimei. So much, that for a moment he forgets that Binghe could be looking for him.

Then Sj who is confused beyond confusion and retaliates against Binghe and Yqy like a feral cat. Lqg managed to help calm him down based barely on his strange calm attitude toward him.

Imagine a Binghe who decides to go to the demon world to do some work so he didn't do something drastic that he'd regret. Going for some good ol' land conquering to relieve some stress and accidentally injuring himself because of his distraction with the situation.

Now imagine Sy's new meimei finding this handsome young man, all beat and bloody and taking him home to have her lovely, and suddenly smarter, brother to help her look after this man.

Sy who tries his best to slowly let Binghe know that it's him without risking being beheaded for saying something outrageous. And Binghe looking at this man and being like, do I know you? You're as nice as the love of my life? Am I seeing things? I can't betray my love for shizun but there's something about this man....

Any way, if someone wants to keep adding, tag me please. I wanna see where this goes ✨🔻✨

Hear my random thought, imagine that the PIDW fandom actually start noticing the weirdo called Peerless Cucumber and they find his comments absolutely hilarious, like “this dude is crazy but hes damn funny too” and they just start teasing him with things like “what are you, Luo Binghe’s wife to defend him like this?” until someone actually makes a full 20.000 word fanfiction about peerless cucumber dying and reincarnating in PIDW and ending up rizzing up Luo Binghe, convincing him to leave his harem for him and they marry and live happily ever after and everyone finds this EVEN MORE HILARIOUS and more people start writing fanfic about it.

Before PIDW ends, the ship tag is one of the top 5 of the fandom in ao3 and they have tons of fanart and even an animation video on youtube that has hundreds of thousands of views and obviously airplane had seen it, and he found it hilarious too.

So when he finished PIDW he made some specials and he decided to be the funniest man ever and write one where peerless cucumber died and reincarnated in a male demon whom happened to be working close to Luo Binghe, and that was the first and last gay chapter of PIDW.

The fandom EXPLODED when they read this and the ship tag quickly became number 1 on the fandom in ao3, fanfiction.net, wattpad and tumblr.

Sadly, peerless cucumber stopped his activities on social media as soon as the final chapter of PIDW dropped, wonder what happened to that guy...

--------------------

it is currently 3am, no one can judge me for this thanks goodbye

[tossawary]

Qijiu's reunion at the Immortal Alliance Conference could have so easily gone differently. If Yue Qi had had the time to express joy over Shen Jiu's survival, before Shen Jiu got angry at apparently being abandoned for a better life, and before Yue Qi then assumed that the failed rescue was the unforgivable harm rather than the apparent failure to return at all, they might have gotten somewhere.

But, you know, another way things could have gone differently is Yue Qi and Shen Jiu not coming face-to-face and recognizing each other at the same time. It could have been one or the other.

Wu Yanzi presumably can't slip into the conference because he's (not invited and also) a wanted criminal, but he might have been able to send his apprentice in to walk around, with Shen Jiu pretending to be just another random disciple among the crowd. If Shen Jiu had disguised himself to enter the conference early, he could have easily seen Head Disciple of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect Yue Qingyuan in a position of dutiful prominence during some opening speech, without Yue Qi noticing him in return.

The conclusions that Shen Jiu would jump to without any indication Yue Qi even remembers him? Bad. Obviously, the only thing to do there is take furious revenge and completely ruin this Yue Qingyuan's beautiful new life somehow.

Likewise, if Shen Jiu had been wandering around the conference to scope out the valuables, Yue Qi could have seen him through the crowd without being noticed in return. Maybe CQMS's head disciple is better situated making the mingling rounds rather than standing up somewhere with the talking heads. Before Shen Jiu knows what's happening here, he's being accosted in a quiet corner by some young master on the verge of crying on his stolen uniform. He just barely manages not to stab this guy about it.

"Xiao-Jiu, you're alive! I came back for you but I was too late and found that awful place burned to the ground! Nobody knew where you'd gone. You're a disciple of Huan Hua Palace now? I'm so happy for you!" this person says, beaming with ugly joy- wait, is this...? "I'm so sorry that Qi-Ge was so useless."

Shen Jiu barely manages to stumble out of this conversation without passing out. Yue Qi gets dragged away by some Cang Qiong master for some social responsibility, clinging to Shen Jiu's hands and swearing to find him later, and he thinks Shen Jiu is a Huan Hua Palace disciple. What was Shen Jiu supposed to say to that assumption? That he's actually lying scum?!

Shen Jiu now has to survive this conference without Yue Qi finding out the truth and without Wu Yanzi finding out about Yue Qi. Upping the tension of this fic idea: maybe Wu Yanzi does find out that Shen Jiu knows the head disciple of CQMS. (Maybe Wu Yanzi was lurking around the edges in disguise as well. Maybe Wu Yanzi witnesses some later conversation between Qijiu.) Wu Yanzi now wants to use Shen Jiu as an "in" to rob or otherwise harm CQMS.

If Shen Jiu is the one who saw Yue Qi first and jumped to angry conclusions and revenge plans about it, maybe the spiteful Shen Jiu likes the idea of reuniting with Yue Qi just to fuck him over like that. He's going to regret that pretty quickly, though.

[ghouljams]

The Church of the Broken God (chapter 2)

Words: 5k Tags: Eventual John Price x reader, public masturbation, brainwashing, doublespeak, indoctrination, f!reader, passively suicidal ideation, self destructive habits, horrible bosses, depressed!reader, Cult Leader!Price Summary: Your life has been on a downward spiral for months. It's hard to find a real reason to keep going when everything you do seems to backfire. That is, until you get a flier for a meditation seminar that promises to fix all your problems.

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These women are… super nice. You don’t know why it puts you on edge. They’re not doing anything wrong. They buy each other drinks, compliment each other, they’re attentive listeners and laugh at every joke you make. You offer to buy a round, the same as they’ve been doing for you, and you’re not met with a rush to stop you. They look pleased, shoot off thanks and smile the same as they did for the other women. You feel like you’re doing the right thing, you don’t know why it makes your stomach squirm. Maybe you’re just not used to people doing nice things for you.

“You ok?” Nina asks, leaning over the table to frown at you, “you’ve gone all quiet.”

“Yeah, uh, I guess I’m just not used to crowds anymore.” You attempt to cover.

“It’s the compliments isn’t it?” Cassie jumps in, Nina waves her off.

“No, no!” You hold up your hands to defend yourself, “Those are really nice, you’re all really nice! I’m just not-”

“Used to it?” Nina finishes with a wince, “I wasn’t either, it was super awkward the first time I came out for drinks, you remember?”

“Oh my God so awkward, you were like a robot.” Cassie laughs, it takes some of the weight off your shoulders.

“But you get what you put out into the world, y’know? You give kindness, you get it in return, that’s what John says.” Nina nods, she crosses her arms and leans back against the booth. She feels serious, her jaw set and her brows drawn. “I was in a really dark place when I first took John’s class, it felt like I was living a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. My friends were drifting away, my fiance was cheating on me-” She shakes her head, you wince at how closely your situation matches, “-I was so bitter and it made me mean, I get why no one wanted to be around me.”

“Nina-” Cassie sighs, her sympathy obvious. Nina waves her off again, sitting forward to grab her drink.

“Whatever, it’s in the past now.” Nina mutters, your heart aches for her. You set a hand on her shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze. She smiles at you. It feels… good. You can see yourself in her, your pain and suffering. It’s a weight that she carries the same as you. “Kyle really helped me a lot, Christ I owe him a whole bakery.”

“Nina!” Cassie squeals, shoving at her. Nina’s shoulder bumps against you, warm. Camaraderie. Did you forget what it was like to have friends? When was the last time you saw your own? The last time they laughed with each other, with you? “You’re so bad,” Cassie laughs.

“What? He’s hot!” Nina laughs back. You feel a little left out. Your stomach clenches.

“Sorry, who’s Kyle?” You ask, “Your boyfriend?”

“She wishes,” Cassie snorts into her drink. Nina shoves at her.

“He’s a counselor, life coach sort of guy.” Nina explains, “He has a class at the rec center on Wednesdays-” Claire’s phone pings “-honestly it’s worth going just to see him, God I wanna make a sandwich out of that man.”

“I’m gonna hit the bathroom,” Claire announces. You glance at the other women at the table. None of them move. Weird, you would have thought women this close would be biting at the bit to accompany her. You always used the buddy system with your friends. Especially at bars. In fact the other women at the table seem to ignore her, only acknowledging her enough to move out of the way. 

You guess there’s a black sheep in every friend group. You know the feeling. You tap your fingers against the table watching her retreat to the bathroom. You don’t have a good feeling about letting her go alone. Nina’s insistence on “putting kindness into the world” or whatever is running through your head and you just… you can’t let her be on the outskirts of the friend group alone. You’re not even really part of it, but everyone is being so nice- you won’t be the reason this girl is left out.

“Oh um, I’m gonna ask the bartender something,” You tell the girl on your left, shit what was her name “can you-?

“Sure!” She pushes herself out of the booth to let you out, quickly cozying up next to Nina when you vacate the spot. You glance at the table over your shoulder as you make your way towards the bar, then make a hard turn towards the bathrooms. No one’s paying attention to you, that’s good.

You push the bathroom door open, trying to be quiet in case Claire’s shy. You’ll just, uh, wash your hands and pretend you’re fixing your outfit when she comes out. Nothing weird about that. Totally normal thing that people do, and not like you’re waiting for her to come out of the stall so you can- What? Commiserate about being left out? Ugh, you don’t know why you even-

There’s a distinct, wet, noise coming from one of the stalls. A ‘shlick, shlick’ sound that you recognize all too easily. You catch the bathroom door to keep it from slamming and cover your mouth. Fingers sliding against a wet slit, a soft huff of a stifled moan, and the quiet low rumble of a man’s voice. Deep and throaty, she’s on the phone with someone, or listening to something. You can’t tell which, what you can tell is that Claire --the girl who had seemed almost too shy to ask you to join them--  is masturbating in a public bathroom. And you’re standing there listening. You’re not sure which is worse. It squirms like bile in your stomach, you’re intruding, you’re being a creep. Your own cunt clenches. 

A quiet whimper leaves Claire’s mouth and you rush back out of the bathroom. You catch the door a second time to make sure she doesn’t hear it slam, then you press yourself against it. You fan your face, try to get your breathing right, fix your face. Fix your damn face! You press your hands to your cheeks, and squeeze your eyes shut. Oh my God.

You make your way back to the table, doing your best to avoid looking at anyone. The girl who moved for you initially lights up when she sees you, hopping out of the booth and ushering you in. You feel a little awkward sliding into the middle with Nina, but you don’t want to cause a fuss with so many people watching you. Good lord do they all have to look at you? 

“Did the bartender have what you were looking for?” Nina asks. Your eyes dart to her.

“The- oh, uh, no. I was wondering if he had a phone charger.” You cover quickly.

“I have a power bank you can use,” Cassie offers. You open your mouth to turn her down before remembering that would blow your story out of the water.

“Sure.” You relent, forcing a smile onto your face. 

“No problem,” Cassie chirps, digging through her purse to tug a power bank and two different chargers free, “it feels good to do nice things for people, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” you agree absentmindedly, fussing with the charger and plugging your phone in. An alert for a non-branded charger pops up and you quickly dismiss it. 

The conversation moves on to other topics, but you hardly pay attention. Your eyes are glued to the bathroom door, waiting for Claire. When she does finally exit she looks the same as when she left. No ruddy cheeks, no guilty glances around, no rumpled shirt or anything that would give away what she was doing in the bathroom. You try not to narrow your eyes as they flick over her body. You don’t want to look like you’re checking her out, you just want proof that you heard what you heard.

“Welcome back,” Someone says, and Claire beams at them.

“Who’s buying the next round?” Claire asks.

You drift in and out of conversation. Someone offers to split an uber with you, apparently they live in the same building. You wonder how you never noticed them before, but they hug you before you get off the elevator.

“It was nice to connect with you,” She hums, “it feels nice being part of something, doesn’t it?”

You don’t get a chance to answer before the doors close.

-

Wednesday, you think, flipping through your phone while you brush your teeth. Nina said her life coach guy was on wednesdays right? Curious, you check the rec center’s website.

“For the Whole You!” The site banner reads in friendly font. You scroll down to their calendar. There’s a lot of pictures of people smiling, a pie chart of something, testimonials, blah blah blah. The calendar is easy to read at least. And packed. It looks like meditations happen every three days, you spot John’s name easily. Price, huh, that’s a cool last name. Wednesdays… 

You click on the only Kyle you see, and a page pops up with- Christ- one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. Kyle Garrick, life coach with a masters in psychology. That doesn’t sound too bad. You thought life coaches were just con men in ripped jeans, but this guy seems like he might actually know what he’s talking about. John’s name pops up again, a short anecdote from Kyle about serving with him. Huh. That’s kind of interesting you guess. 

You think back on the meditation lesson you’d attended, the power that John seemed to carry in simple actions, the musculature, the way he’d pinned you in place with a single tilt of his head. Military fits you guess. You click on his class and tap your fingers against the side of your phone as you think. The class has a helpful registration counter at the side, letting you know there’s one spot left for the wednesday evening class. It’s not like you have anything else going on, and it’ll fill your usual therapy slot. It’s twenty for a single class. That’s not too bad, less than therapy co-pays. You make an account on the site, begrudgingly signing up for their email list, and send twenty dollars into the void. 

You get an email from Kyle about an hour later as you’re scrolling through instagram, avoiding looking at the time. It feels pretty standard, welcoming a new person, attaching a survey on what you want to work on. You type out a few quick words promising you’ll get to it in the morning. Your email pings a few minutes later.

“You must be an insomniac, just tackle it now.” You narrow your eyes at the screen, “Might help you sleep to accomplish a task before bed.” 

What sort of weird logic- fine. You squint at the questionnaire, typing out your answers as best you can. Honest enough to get some advice but not honest enough to get sent to the hospital has always been your MO with these things. This one is sort of weird, but you’re exhausted, too sleep-addled to pay proper attention.

Are you lonely? Do you ever feel out of place? Do you have dreams where you act as someone else? Have you heard of the law of attraction? When someone says they feel “connected” to you, how does that make you feel?

Do you ever feel talked over?

Do you ever feel pushed out of conversations? Do you find it hard to accept yourself?

Are you on the path you want to be?

You rub your eyes, typing as best you can. 

Where do you see improvement for yourself?

Describe yourself in one negative word.

You type, and type. It feels never ending. Worse than the insomnia that keeps you up. It’s nearly two hours later when you finish. You send it off to Kyle without another thought, and snuggle down into your blankets. You’re so tired.

Your phone buzzes. You roll over to check it. Another email from Kyle.

“Thanks, this looks great! :)” You sigh. At least your work checks out. That’s good, you’re sure it’s just an auto-response, but you appreciate it nonetheless. Another message pops up. Your email alerting you to a new response in the chain.

“How long have you had trouble sleeping? I know a few good remedies.” You sigh, the screen hurts your eyes. You don’t know what inspires you to reply, why you don’t simply roll over to sleep. The attention is nice, you suppose.

“A few months. What’s your miracle cure?” You stare at your phone, let the blue light laser its way over your eyes. The screen dims, you tap it to keep your phone awake. To keep you awake. 

“Have you heard of sleep restriction therapy?”

-

Your morning has never felt more miserable. You barely slept and you had to upgrade your usual tea to an instant coffee. You’re nursing the brown sludge that you managed to scrape together from the break room’s limited stores when your least favorite manager swings by your cubicle.

“Did you finish the reports I asked for?” Kevin asks. You do your best to keep your face neutral as you sip your scalding caffeine.

“I told you they’d take me until the end of the day.” You remind him, “It’s nine in the morning.” Nevermind that he’s swinging into the office a full hour late, but you know for a fact that you promised the updated numbers by five today. You have the email to prove it.

“Oh,” Kevin makes a face, his teeth grit as he exhales through them, “I was really hoping you’d work on them last night.”

“Outside of work hours.” You confirm, trying not to sound too much like you’re questioning his less than sound judgement.

Kevin sighs your name with a shake of his head, “You know you’re not going to get very far in this company if you don’t care about your work.”

You take a deep breath through your nose, inhaling as much coffee vapor as you can stomach. It does nothing to calm you down. You can’t be expected to deal with this level of bullshit on practically zero sleep. Maybe you should look into that sleep therapy Kyle sent you, you really can’t keep living like this.

“I care about my work Kevin,” You tell him with as much of a smile as you can manage, “I’ll have the reports to you as soon as possible.”

“Atta-girl,” Kevin praises, snapping his finger to hit you with a nauseating pair of finger guns before moseying back to his office.

If you thought reporting him to HR would do anything you might consider it. As it stands you’ve already tried that twice and gotten nowhere. It just made him more dedicated to making your work life hell. Crazy how they always talk about retaliation in the “Hostile work environment” training videos, but no one seems to give a shit about it when it’s happening to you.

You spend the next two hours swearing at the mess of spreadsheets that Kevin emailed you yesterday. If he’d bothered to clean any of the sheets up it would’ve made your life a hell of a lot easier. You don’t even want to think about how many cells could’ve been saved if he knew how to use just one function. You can feel the start of a migraine pressing against the back of your eyes by the time your stomach is starting to growl at you about lunch.

You glance away from your monitor to rub your eyes, try to get some of the blurry tilt out of them. Your bag sits on the desk next to you, deliriously empty. Fuck.

Fuck that’s right, you’d decided to skip packing a lunch this morning because you were running late for your train. 

With a heavy sigh you check your lunch options just as your phone pings.

It’s an unknown number, weird.

You swipe the message open to delete it and pause.

“Hey, it’s Nina! I saw you work near me and was wondering if you’d want to grab lunch?”

You blink at your phone screen. How the hell would she know where you work?

Your sluggish brain clicks away as your stomach churns nervously. You guess Cassie works at the rec center, she’d see applications that come through, membership stuff. Maybe Cassie gave it to her? Nina was the one who suggested you sign up for Kyle’s class, maybe Cassie wanted to, you don’t know, spread the good news of your signing up?

Your head throbs.

You’re not really operating at 100% right now, you’re not sure you want to interact with someone who seems to have their life together.

“My treat?” Nina double texts you.

Alright, you can pretend to be a human being for free lunch.

You’re almost relieved to see Nina has a little darkness under her eyes, purple sleeplessness that she’s tried to hide with concealer. It makes you feel a little better for your own sluggish brain to think that she might be tired too. 

“I know this is probably totally weird,” She laughs when you greet her with a raised hand, “You’re probably like, oh my god this bitch is a stalker, how does she know where I work?”

“I figure Cassie gave it to you, because I signed up for your favorite class.” You yawn, as she nods.

“That’s smart,” She says nothing about your second yawn, “wouldn’t have been my first thought.” You hum, before deciding a verbal answer is friendlier.

“Yeah, I mean it seemed sort of weird, but you don’t strike me as the stalker type.”

“Tell my ex-fiance that,” Nina says with an eye roll, “ask to share your location one time- of course I was right to be a stalker but…”

You snort and she positively beams at you. You have to squint to avoid blinding yourself in the sunshine of it. She links her arm with yours and tugs you along to walk with her. You do your best not to tug your arm out from her hold, not used to being touched so casually.

“So what are you in the mood for?” She asks, leading you down the street.

“I’m not picky,” You tell her, trying to be easy. You could really go for something warm right now, you think you might be coming down with something.

“You look exhausted,” Nina coos sympathetically, “Maybe you should go home instead. Rest.”

You rub your eye with the heel of your hand and shake your head. “I’ve got a lot to get done today.”

“Surely your boss won’t mind you taking some sick time?” She sounds so sincere, you feel bad when you bark out a laugh. Nina frowns, “One of those, huh?” You sigh, letting yourself feel the heaviness in your limbs like a sick indulgence.

“Just a few more hours,” You assure her, “Then I can go home and sleep.”

“Let’s get something good in you before then.” Nina nods to herself.

Nina orders for you and sets a steaming bowl of rice and saucy vegetables in front of you. It smells heavenly, like ginger and coconut, and there’s little crispy bits of something sprinkled on top. She has a salad, and shakes it vigorously in front of her while you mix up the yellow curry and rice. Even just the thought of the food’s warm steam settling in your stomach energizes you. You glance at Nina and she’s got her head bowed. 

You-

Pause. 

A little awkward in the face of what must be prayer. You’re not quite sure if you’re supposed to start without her, or if that’s rude. You don’t know the protocol for this. After a moment she raises her head and blinks at you.

“Oh my gosh, were you waiting for me?” She asks, scandalized. You nod, unsure what to do with your hands. You settle on spooning a heap of curry and rice into your mouth. You figure that’s fine since she’s done. “That’s really sweet of you,” She smiles. She doesn’t give you any indication if this was the right thing to do. You stare at your bowl and chew.

“I was going to invite you to hang at the rec center after work,” Nina starts, waving her fork with a sigh, “but I don’t want you to push yourself if you’re exhausted.”

“Do people hang out at the rec center?” You question, trying to remember if you saw other people there when you went yesterday. It had seemed fairly empty, almost abandoned, but maybe you’d been too focused on getting to your class to notice anything else. The class was full, so there must have been other people hanging around.

“Of course,” Nina gives you a look like you’re crazy for asking, “like all the time. It’s a nice spot just to chill and see people. John doesn’t mind us hanging around.”

John. That was the meditation instructor’s name, wasn’t it? It’s pretty common, you doubt it’s the same guy. Why would an instructor mind if people hung around anyway? Cassie had pointed you towards a lounge area last night so there must be more of those to steal for chatting.

“The meditation instructor?” You ask dumbly. It’s not the question you want to ask, but it’s the only thing that sticks on your tongue. Nina hums her assent.

“He runs the place.” She explains, “he’s super nice, really cares about bringing people together, building community, connections.”

She says the word like it means something: connections. It sticks in your sluggish mind, but doesn’t raise any red flags.

“Sounds like a good guy.” You shove another bite into your mouth.

“He is.” Nina tells you. Tells you, like she’s demanding you try and disagree with her.

You blink. There’s a coldness to her face, there and gone. She smiles, and tucks into her salad.

Maybe she’s got a thing for him. You make a note not to say anything bad about him to her.

He seemed nice, good looking, she could do worse.

You suppress a shiver at the memory of his hands on you, pushing you forward and pulling you back like it was the most natural thing in the world. His touch is the first you’ve had in a long time that didn’t make you cringe and want to squirm away. Actually his class was the most relaxed you’ve been in, well, ever and the short nap you’d taken was probably the best sleep you’d had in months. You’d almost be willing to give up on going straight home after work if you knew John was going to be at the rec center, maybe you could slip in another meditation workshop?

You want to ask Nina about it, but you also don’t want to give her the wrong idea. If she does have a crush on the guy, it’s probably not great to ask too many questions about John if you want to stay in her good graces. 

“Right,” You try, “yeah his class was great, and I’m, uh, looking forward to Kyle’s class too.” Not your best subject change, but Kyle’s name makes Nina light up.

“Oh yeah, you’re going to love it!” She assures you.

“Yeah, I- yeah,” The attitude shift has you a little stunned, your molasses thoughts stick to your tongue as you try to collect them, “He sent me this huge questionnaire last night, it was really, um, in depth?” You try to remember one of the questions but wading through your mind is difficult with so little sleep.

“Well,” Nina stabs her fork into her salad, you flinch at each punctuating crunch of lettuce, “he has to get to know you, silly, so he can help you.” You stir your curry in jerking motions, for something to occupy your hands. “You can’t pull yourself out of a hole,” Nina tells you with a blank smile, “someone has to throw you a rope.”

-

You were almost happy to get back to work. Kevin chewed you out about taking too long a lunch, and you were probably going to get an ulcer from all the tylenol you took, but you were happy getting away from Nina. She’d chatted your ear off about Kyle and somehow didn’t answer a single one of your questions about him. Not that you had any chance to get a word in edgewise. You couldn’t handle the perky tone in her voice by the time your lunch ended. At least you didn’t have to pay for your own food.

You manage to get Kevin his spreadsheets before five. You still leave the office late and thankless.

You doze on the train home, your head tugging at your neck each time the doors opened, and you barely make it into your house before you’re collapsing on the couch. 

Yeah, you couldn’t have made it to the rec center like this.

You startle awake when your ass starts vibrating. You blearily fumble for your phone  and swipe at the screen, turning off your “call Baby” alarm. You should really delete that.

You toss your phone on the coffee table with a sigh and turn onto your back to stare at the ceiling fan. Ten. You slept for a good couple hours. You’re starving.

And you’re not going to be able to sleep tonight because of this nap.

Great.

-

You consider canceling your registration for Kyle’s class as you sit on the train heading to the rec center. You could just go home. You sort of want to go home, but Cassie had called you this afternoon to confirm your registration and she’d sounded so sad when you’d asked about canceling that you just couldn’t. Also you were pretty sure it was too late to get your money back. So here you were.

At least the rec center is busier than Monday. Cassie had told you the Wednesday meditation was full, maybe this is their busy day. You see people coming in and out, and look for a familiar face in the crowd. You’re hoping to see one of the women you met Monday, but instead your eyes lock on slightly less familiar icy blues.

John smiles at you across the street, and glances both ways before jogging across. You paint on a smile for him, and try not to look like you were avoiding going inside.

“Waiting for someone?” He asks in lieu of greeting. You keep your eyes on his, the creases at the corners of his eyes deepen a little as you stare. 

“No, just-” You search for a normal time killing activity, “-people watching.” John hums and steps to stand beside you. The space he takes up feels enormous, like a black hole sucking up your attention, despite the way he crosses his arms over his chest. You peek at the bulge of his bicep against the dark shirt he’s wearing, the stiff fabric stretching to accommodate more man that it was made for. You would’ve expected him in the same comfortable yoga clothes as he was wearing Monday, but this feels more formal. He’s wearing slacks. And oxfords. 

“It’s intimidating,” He tells you out of the blue after a moment of silence. Your eyes dart to his face, and your confusion must be all too clear because he chuckles. The deep throaty noise of it makes your stomach clench. “Letting people help,” He fills in, “choosing peace.”

You make a face.

And John touches you.

His hand slides, big and warm, over your back. His fingers spread wide and he leans into your space like he might pull you closer, except you suddenly feel rooted in place. Fear shoots through you, anxiety punctuating your breaths unnecessarily. You fix your face quickly, tamp down the surge of adrenaline that makes you want to run. John isn’t doing anything but looking at you, his smile the same placid thing even as his brows twitch in concern.

“Sorry,” You find yourself apologizing, trying to unlock some of the stiffness in your shoulders, “I’m not used to people touching me.”

“It’s a natural response,” John doesn’t move his hand, his thumb rubs against your back and you feel the unnatural drag of your shirt against your skin like sandpaper, “You’re trying to protect yourself. Silly little thing that people have gotten into their heads these days, that everyone’s out to get them.” He tips his head, and you’re hit with a wave of claustrophobia, the open air seems to sink into you until you’re a single focus point in a tiny void. “Doesn’t that feel awful?” 

His words feel like they’re sinking into you, echoing every thought that bounces through your tensed musculature. It feels awful, you feel like a cornered gazelle, like a lame wildebeest, like a fly trapped in a spider’s net. 

You feel almost pleading the way you must be looking at him. Humiliated to react like this to something so simple.

He smiles brighter and his hand leaves you, you suck in a breath and feel your lungs ache, “That’s why it’s so important to pick apart that distrust, humans are social creatures, made to be connected to each other. All from the same warm pool, yeah?”

You nod. John nods his head towards the rec center.

“Let me walk you in, you’re here for Gaz’s class right?”

“No, um, Kyle’s.” You correct.

“Ah,” John laughs, his hand reappears on the small of your back, pushing you forward, “old habit, that’s what we called him in the SAS. You’ll like him, not as touchy as me.” He pulls his hand away with a small apologetic smile, “force of habit.”

“It’s fine,” it’s not, “Everyone around here is so friendly, I just have to get used to it.”

John hums, “Already untangling the web, good girl.”

Your stomach clenches pleasantly. You can see why Nina likes him.

[wonjuii]

Hi, I do think exposing is childish but... I want to warn people. Ever since, like around 2024, august? I was invited to a groupchat, filled with people who posts on tumblr! some were ppl i didnt know about. And.. there is marie. I thought marie was a sweet person at first, didnt talk to her since i didnt know her that much. ever since the month grew, there's a chaos drama about dodo. (i am not bringing it up that much but it will be some information direct to that chaos)

it was around... october? I dont know but lets forget that! past 3 days, marie was being too dramatic, calling me and @awwriri sensitive. (just to tell you that, I can reclaim the slurs since i took an irl test but idk if its a thing since the doctor said "it was to check if i have autism" but it was positive i guess!) It was during the lil-liaa chaos. I didnt want to say the r slur to her but i ended up saying it since there were alot of things happening. As you can tell, i asked permission to say the slur, I was worried if i am really meant to say the slur in the gc. (please anyone dont get uncomfortable!) all of the sudden, she called me insensitive..? I didn't know asking permission is considered impolite or insensitve.. we all had a small talk with marie. everything went a little okay (I assumed.) there are evidences of our small talk.

I apologised... many times. MANY TIMES. "don't be sorry" i will have to be sorry because you bashed on me and riri bc of the slur now the whole server bc of dodo?? U can't be that serious. I also mentioned that everyone deserve to be forgiven! guess marie cant accept that. I thought riri was the owner of the gc, of course i had to ask her permission but no. she wasnt the owner. i was dumb enough to not check who's really the admin of the gc. When we had a small conversation about slurs, she mentioned she cant reclaim the N WORD bc others used it?... Although she used it when she just said it TWICE. (ITS NOT A RACISM SLUR, SHES AFRICAN)

i was just trying to make a conversation, setting up a new type of topic since i got really annoyed and uncomfortable, talking about slurs. But, she continued, wouldnt even stop ending the conversation about it. I even try to convince her to bring riri back to the gc since we all wanted to see how she is.

.... okay. do u like.. hate riri or something? The fact she argued with riri, MAYBE ALMOST EVERY WEEK. MAYBE EVERY DAY. its just disgusting how shes treating the others like shes the oldest of the gc. (she tried to boss me, telling me not to say the slurs bc im insensitve) just so you know, vivi educated me more about slurs so i am not going to say it. (thank you vivi)

The text may not be necessary, but can't you tell how bad she is? if your assuming its bc her education system or shes young, i was 13, i rarely got into fights. (like twice a year.) most likely, she's to cause tons of fights. my screenshots:

(Please press to read, it might be hard for you to see!)

This is a dodo situation. you may not know why dodo didn't explain why she didn't say anything or mention her reason about ignoring to chei. here it is.

basically, she was moody (mood swings i think) I understood dodo, i have frustration issues so i get really annoyed like almost everyday. just to clarify, were not bashing on chei, this is just to show evidence about marie and things she said! more evidence when she started being rude to me... (i didnt clip that part but others may have seen it, she said something like "no, i dont want to ❤️" something like that)

shes basically thinking we dont care...

(im at the corner at the top, replying to her.) You can tell i apologised to her like many times. shes basically saying dodo doesnt deserve to defend herself because shes a bully..? do you realize what ur doing. its childish.

evidence from dodo about marie talking about dodo in her post!

i cant. this is just annoying me so bad. why is she only asking me to block her ??? im so confused. (AGAIN, please press these evidences to read!)

wow.. i just dont get whats her problem with dodo, me and riri atp?..

sigh. marie tsk tsk.. i just cant believe this. i assumed she was going to expose me but i guess not?.... also another information.. me and vini were just trying to calm her down but she started bashing on her too.

Thank you to anyone to might be reading this. Again, exposing seems childish but its the best way to do it. its for others to be warned, incase! tags : @y-unrei @n-americano @i-mmaculatus @sugarish

@miujo @i-kyujin @aestradairio @awwriri @atsubie

@aeraras @rkivefr @daddldee @p-oisn @kissunoo

@florescita @fairytopea @purinkiss @hourlyhoon

@lvioung @obdosant @tzulipss @j-eongs @yeritos

@yonkiibums @hcvenue @bitchey @babyvoxgirlie

@swhore @bloomqi @kiyeuo @chaeryeos @y-vna

@y-urios @aestradairio @aesverse

god all of that tags is MAD!!!

[skachacharealsmooth]

coming on main to say this just bcs i talk more abt sth over here but my ideal sonadow dynamic is soooo situationship coded. sonic will knock on shadow’s door at like 3 am sopping wet scrapes all over his body taco bell in hand stupid smile and shadow will just be like ughhhh fine whatever invite yourself in. they spend a few weeks together in domestic bliss or whatever until shadow notices that sonic’s leg is extra bouncy and his eyes are darting today at breakfast which means he’s gonna leave in the middle of the night off to chaos knows where.

shadow’s version of crashing and leaving is stepping in on sonic’s heroic endeavors but only when the situation is extreme enough to use his Top Secret Government Job as a reason. shadow isn’t using his occupation as an excuse, more so a valid reason to warrant rubbing elbows w sonic and co….and what follows is the most awkward bizarre palpable tension that you can cut through with a knife. like condolences to anyone that is within a 10 mile blast radius of them. when they’re parting ways sonic always says something so out of pocket in love goo goo eyes and shadow will think about it for the next five months nonstop. sonic then shows up on his doorstep and the cycle continues. actually let me expand on why this happens down below

shadow will not tell sonic that he genuinely has feelings for him for a multitude of reasons but the main sparksnotes overarching reason why changes over time. when they’re younger shadow is under the impression that sonic simply can’t be in a long term romantic relationship because he’s incapable. this type of engagement is just his speed and suits his lifestyle perfectly. as they get older, shadow’s opinion slightly shifts in favor of the idea that sonic would never settle down because his appetite to experience everything the world has to offer is greater than his desire to have and maintain in a romantic sense. getting serious is something he doesn’t want turns into getting serious is something he genuinely can’t bring himself to do.

on the other hand, sonic will not tell shadow that he has feelings for him and his reasoning stays the same. and it’s arguably more stupid. sonic is convinced that shadow just isn’t that serious about him. like every time he creeps out of the door in the middle of the night he secretly wishes that shadow will catch him and beg him to stay in this giant confession of love but that would never happen because coming and going is sonic’s thing and who shadow sees in between their meetings is none of his business. if he was that serious then he would confess. when they’re younger sonic fantasizes the doorway scene ending as let me come with you. as they get older, it turns into stay.

[seongwars]

strangers by nature | vi

Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor, fluff in future chapters Rating: NC-17 Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever. Word Count: 6.6K Warnings: angst, character d*ath, attacks on animals, mentions of blood, swearing, mentions of mental health, only half proofread, use of crude language

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a/n: it hurt me to write this chapter 😭

You weren’t particularly close to your father. His life revolved around his work—the family business he hadn’t wanted but had accepted out of obligation when your uncles, San and Jongho’s fathers, stepped aside, unwilling to subject their sons to the challenges of running a conglomerate.

Sometimes you wished he had done the same too. 

He was often away, traveling to meet clients or locked in endless board meetings. He wasn’t the type of man to swoop in with comforting words or a warm embrace. Instead, he listened without interrupting, nodded without judgment, and spoke only when he felt it was necessary. Despite the distance between you, his steady presence had a way of making you feel oddly secure.

And maybe that was why, as you paced the length of your penthouse, you found yourself dialing his number. Mingi followed your every move, his small body glued to your side. He kept glancing up at you, occasionally tripping you with how close he was.

“Come on, pick up, pick up…” You muttered to yourself. Your pacing carried you in a loop—through the kitchen, into the dining room you barely used, and then into the living room. Then, you wandered back into the kitchen, your footsteps quickening with every unanswered ring.

“Y/N?”

Your shoulders sagged in relief, and you stopped pacing, planting yourself in the middle of the kitchen as Mingi bumped up against your ankles. 

“Dad!”

“Is everything alright?”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening slightly around the phone. How were you supposed to explain everything that had transpired the last few weeks without sounding unhinged? 

What were you even supposed to say? Hi, Dad. Quick question: Are you sure the woman you’re married to is actually my mother?

Your parents’ marriage had always seemed like a curious thing to you. It was a product of an arrangement. Yet, over the years, your father’s quiet gestures of affection seemed to keep your mother content, even happy.

Surely, he couldn’t have had an affair.

The idea felt absurd, but then again, you’d always felt like a stranger in your own home, an outsider looking in at a family that didn’t quite seem to know where you fit.

“I-I need to talk to you about something. I didn’t want to call mom because…you know how she gets.”

Your mother had a flair for theatrics, a tendency to turn even the smallest inconvenience into a grand production. If you’d called her instead, the situation would have escalated before you even finished explaining. 

“What’s going on?”

“I…” You faltered for a moment, running a hand through your hair before continuing your train of thought.

“There’s this woman who I think has been stalking me. A friend of mine was dogsitting Maro when she approached him at the park.” Your voice dropped slightly, recounting your conversation with Yeosang. 

“She recognized Maro…and referred to me as her daughter.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you took a moment to crouch down and stroke Mingi’s fur as he leaned into your side. 

“I don’t know who she is,” you admitted softly. “But…something about her felt wrong. And it’s been bothering me ever since.”

“Did she hurt you or Maro?”

“No, but she tried to abduct a little girl a few weeks ago. We stopped her and she fled.”

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me carefully,” he said, his tone suddenly firm. 

You froze mid-step, his words rooting you in place. “Okay,” you said hesitantly, your voice small.

“I need you to stay put,” he continued. “Don’t do anything or go anywhere, especially not alone. I’m going to call the lawyers and have them review the court order and police files.”

“Court order?” you repeated, confusion rising in your chest. “What are you talking about?”

“Call either San or Jongho,” he said instead, his tone softening just enough to sound like a plea. 

“Let them know I’ve asked one of them to stay with you until we sort this out.”

“Dad, what court order?” you pressed, gripping the phone tighter as your heart raced. 

Mingi, sensing your distress, pawed at you insistently, his soft whines urging you to sit down. But you couldn’t move, couldn’t tear your focus away from the ominous edge in your father’s voice.

“There was an incident when you were three. If she is who I think she is, she’s someone we dealt with a long time ago.”

“Who?”

“Your former nanny,” he admitted, his voice steady but grim. “She tried to take you,” he said bluntly. 

“At first, she seemed fine. Kind, attentive, everything you’d want for a child. But things started escalating. Your mother noticed something was off right after she lost her own daughter in an accident. She’d grown too attached to you. Too possessive. We let her go, but before we could take any legal action, she attempted to abduct you.”

“She tried to kidnap me?”

“She managed to evade security at first. It was like any other day. But by the time we realized what was happening, she was already on her way to the airport with you.” 

The room spun, and before you realized it, you had sunk to the floor. The color drained from your face as the weight of the revelation hit you. Mingi froze, his small body going still as he struggled to process the gravity of what he was hearing.  

He let out a soft whine, curling closer to you. He hadn’t fully understood your fears, the reasons behind your walls, the way panic sometimes overtook you without warning.

Now, as a dog, powerless to do anything but sit beside you, the weight of guilt felt almost unbearable.

“We caught her in time,” he continued quickly, his tone shifting, as if trying to calm you. 

“She didn’t make it far. Security intercepted her at the gate just as she was preparing to board a flight. We filed charges immediately and she was arrested.”

“But?” you scoffed. “Your money and influence couldn’t keep her behind bars?”

“We didn’t think she’d ever get out, Y/N. The charges were serious, and the evidence was solid. At the time, we were assured she’d be locked away for decades.” He hesitated, and for a moment, you thought you heard his voice waver. 

“You were so young. We didn’t want to burden you with something you wouldn’t even remember. We thought we could protect you from it all.”

“So much for power,” you muttered bitterly, rubbing your temples. “She seems to be escalating. She’s openly trying to kidnap children now. Who knows what else she’s capable of?”

Your father’s sigh was heavy. “Which is why you’re not to go anywhere alone, Y/N. Not until this is resolved.”

“Dad—”

“I’ll be increasing the security presence around the penthouse as well. And before you ask, yes, I'll be coordinating with Mingi’s family to ensure their resources are aligned with ours.”

The mention of your in-laws made your stomach twist. They were probably unaware of the situation, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. You could already imagine your mother-in-law spinning the story to her social circle about her damsel of a daughter-in-law and how her poor son was unable to save her. The thought of being the centerpiece of their gossip left you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“Make sure there’s a secure presence at the hospital too,” you said, cutting in before the conversation could linger on your in-laws. 

“She might try something there.”

Your father arched a brow. He knew you didn’t particularly like being married to Mingi—he wasn’t blind to the strain in your relationship. Truthfully, he regretted agreeing to the arrangement in the first place. He’d witnessed firsthand the coldness with which Mingi had treated you, most notably the way he’d rebuffed your birthday gathering that first year of marriage. It had been a bitter reminder that not all alliances were worth the price they came with.

But upon hearing your request, it made him realize that you had always been kinder, and more compassionate than those around him. While he had always seemed distant, caught up in his own world of business and power, moments like these reminded him that you had grown into someone he was proud of. Someone who cared, even for those who didn’t deserve it.

“Is there anything else that you need?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“No,” you replied, shaking your head slightly. “But I’m not going to live in fear forever. She doesn’t get to have that power over me.”

“I don’t expect you to. I just want you to be safe.”

The line disconnected and you set the phone down, your hand lingering on it for a moment before turning back to Mingi. You felt a surge of emotions–anger, frustration, fear, and a flicker of determination. 

But when you saw him sitting patiently on the floor, watching you intently with his big eyes, fluffy ears, and wrinkled nose, everything inside you softened. The weight of the world seemed to melt away in that moment, and your heart ached with affection. 

“You’re so cute, I can’t stand it,” you squealed, the intensity of your emotions spilling out in a completely unexpected way. 

Without thinking, you scooped him into your arms, pressing your face against his soft fur as you swayed back and forth with him. Mingi melted into your embrace, his small body going limp as he relished your warmth. 

“I just want to squish you!” you exclaimed, giggling as you kissed him between the ears. 

Mingi let out a soft, rumbling growl, not out of annoyance but because he didn’t know how else to respond to the flood of emotions washing over him. If only you knew how deeply he wanted to protect you, not just as a dog, but as the man who had failed to see your worth for far too long.

“I should probably text the group chat,” you murmured, reaching for your phone while balancing Mingi securely in your other arm.

[Y/N]: My dad said I can have a sleepover

[Grumpy Bear]: fuck yeah

[Mountain Mayne]: Can Kira come too?”

[Y/N]: Only Kira, you stay home

⋆

Mingi found himself scowling, scooped up in San’s arms, as the four of you lounged in your living room, covered in mountains of blankets, pillows, and snacks. He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up in this situation, but he was definitely not thrilled when your cousins and San’s fiancée came crashing into the penthouse after you summoned them with a single text.

“Why isn’t the dog distribution system working for us?” San asked, holding Mingi out toward Kira like he was some kind of offering. Mingi shot him a glare, but the effect was somewhat lost given his tiny size and the way his fur poofed up around his face.

“Because we already have three cats at home,” she replied, chomping on a piece of cheese without looking up from her phone. San sighed dramatically, pulling Mingi back to cradle him like a baby. 

“Don’t worry, Maro, I'll save you from your owner and her evil husband.”

Mingi bristled, his fur puffing out even more. He barked indignantly, but it only made San laugh as he nuzzled Mingi’s fluffy face.

“Yeah, if the evil husband ever wakes up,” Jongho snorted from under his fortress of blankets. 

The room fell silent, save for the faint sound of Howl’s Moving Castle playing in the background. Mingi froze, his small body tensing in San’s arms. His ears flattened against his head as Jongho’s words echoed in his mind. 

Sure, he hadn’t been a perfect husband. He wasn’t even sure he’d been a good one. But…evil?

“Oh come on, that’s not fair,” you replied, albeit with an edge to your tone. 

“What?” Jongho raised his hands defensively, his expression a mix of guilt and awkwardness. 

“It was a joke. I mean, come on, the guy cheated, publicly humiliated you… you can do so much better, Y/N.”

“I know a good divorce lawyer,” Kira added, waving her phone as if the solution to your problems was just a call away. 

The truth of their words clawed at Mingi, a painful reminder of everything he’d done wrong. He wanted to bark, to growl, to defend himself, but what could he even say? That they were wrong? They weren’t. Not completely.

You inhaled sharply, your lips pressing into a thin line as you plopped down next to San. He glanced at you, but you ignored it, your focus entirely on the small dog curled stiffly in his arms.

“I get it,” you said finally, your voice clipped as you reached out and gently plucked Maro out of your cousin’s arms. He went still in your hold, his small body tensing as he waited for what you’d say next.

“Mingi has his own problems, but right now, he doesn’t have anyone in his corner. I don’t know what will happen when he wakes up, but it’s not fair to say things like that when he’s not here.” You cradled him closer, your touch instinctively protective as if shielding him from their judgement. 

Jongho exhaled loudly, his earlier confidence deflating as he sank deeper into the pile of blankets. “Fair point,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. That was out of line.”

Mingi stayed silent, nestled in your arms, his mind racing. You could have left him at the hospital. You could have walked away, started over. Hell, maybe you should have. You could have even entertained the thought of dating Seonghwa, or Yeosang, or anyone else. Anyone but him.

But you hadn’t.

You spent countless nights in that hospital room, talking to him, even when he couldn’t say anything back. You stood up for him, even now, when he didn’t deserve it.

Mingi could picture it so clearly: someone else making you laugh, someone else holding your hand, someone else seeing the best parts of you. 

Maybe they were right, he thought bitterly. Maybe you really could do better. 

But even if that was true, he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. Not when there was still a sliver of hope that he might wake up, make amends, and find a way back to being the man you once believed he could be.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” you announced, rising to your feet with an exaggerated stretch. “It’s way past bedtime.”

“I’ll stay here,” San declared. “In case your stalker tries anything.”

“Good for you, honey,” Kira patted his shoulder. “But I’m going into one of the guest rooms because that’s what sane people do.”

“You’ve got this covered,” Jongho muttered sleepily, dragging himself out of the blanket pile. He stretched with a loud yawn and shuffled toward his room without even waiting for a reply.

“We’re supposed to be in this together,” San grumbled, throwing a pillow halfheartedly at Jongho’s retreating figure. It missed by a wide margin, flopping harmlessly to the floor.

As you slipped into your room, the shift was immediate. The air turned quiet and soft, a reprieve from the playful chaos outside. You closed the door gently and set Mingi down on the bed, his fluffy body sinking into the plush comforter.

He sat perfectly still, watching you move around the room. You pulled back the covers on your side of the bed and fluffed the pillows before finally settling in.

Patting the space beside you, you called softly, “Time for bed.”

He padded over, his small paws making barely a sound as he climbed onto the blankets and curled up near your side. When he tucked his nose into the crook of your neck, you giggled.

“I love you. Night night, puppy,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

As you drifted off to sleep, Mingi stayed awake, tracing the gentle slope of your nose to the soft curve of your lips. It all seemed so fleeting, like everything could slip away in the blink of an eye. 

He sighed softly, rolling onto his back and then to his side again, unable to find a comfortable position. San’s snores rumbled faintly through the door, a reminder of the others nearby. But Mingi’s mind was too restless to relax.

His mind drifted to his last task: What did it mean to offer you happiness without expecting anything in return?

Isn’t it about giving you what you wanted? Protecting you, making you laugh, or ensuring you were never alone? But the more he thought about it, the more complicated it became.

How could he possibly give you that when so much of his past had been spent hurting you?

He remembered the times he’d chosen his own pride over your feelings, the cruel words he couldn’t take back, the moments he’d walked away when you needed him most. He had made you feel small, like you were the one who didn’t belong, the one who wasn’t good enough for him, all while he continued living his life while you were left to pick up the pieces of your own. 

“You’re home all the time, don’t you have any friends?”

Your response had been blunt, cold, almost dismissive. 

“No, they’re dead.”

That was all you said to him. No explanation, just a heavy finality that left him speechless. He didn’t know what it meant then, but now, looking back, it felt like a confession, a glimpse into a part of you that was buried beneath the walls you’d built to protect yourself after losing Hongjoong.  

Kim Hongjoong, the ghost of a man who had never left your heart. The man who had held a place there long before Mingi had even existed in your life. And in that moment, jealousy crept in. It was sharp, bitter, the thought of losing you to a ghost threatening to consume him.

He hated that Hongjoong would always carry that piece of your heart he couldn’t touch, a piece that belonged to someone who had once been your everything. Because in this moment, Mingi, more than anything, coveted that place in your heart. 

No matter how much he tried to remind himself that he was here, that he was now, it didn’t quell the sense of inadequacy growing within him. He couldn’t love you with the expectation of erasing your past or taking what wasn’t his to have.

If he was to prove himself, to earn his humanity, it couldn’t be about him. It had to come from a place of selflessness. He had to love you for who you were, even if it meant living in the shadow of a ghost. Even if it meant never being able to fully claim a place in your heart.

Even if it might mean accepting that some parts of you could never belong to him, no matter how much he wanted them to. And as painful as that truth was, Mingi knew it was the only way forward.

He nestled into your side, his fluffy form fitting snugly against you as he placed a paw against your nose. The steady rise and fall of your chest soothed him, reminding him that he was yours, even if it was only as Maro. 

“I’m so bored,” you groaned, hanging your head over the back of the couch dramatically. The ceiling wasn’t particularly interesting, but you were so desperate for stimulation that you started counting the corners of the crown molding.

Kira glanced over from the kitchen, her brow furrowing in concentration as she whisked a bowl of batter with a bit too much vigor. 

“You should try being useful. Come help me bake.”

“I’d rather be anywhere but here,” you muttered, sliding further down the couch until you were almost horizontal. “I’ve seen every corner of this penthouse.” 

“Drama queen,” she said lightly. “You’re safe here. That’s what matters. And besides, I thought you’d enjoy the time off.”

“Time off from what?”

“I don’t know? The hospital? The back and forth must be draining.”

You hummed in response, though that was all you could muster. Draining wasn’t quite the word for it. It was true the days spent at the hospital had a way of blurring together, but you didn’t mind staying there. In some strange way, it felt right.

At the hospital, you had a routine. You’d arrive in the evening, lay on the sofa and stare out into nothingness. Sometimes you’d read, talk to him about trivial things, or just sit quietly, the hum of the monitors filling the silence. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A way to show him that he wasn’t alone, even if he couldn’t respond.

Because deep down, you knew he needed someone on his side.

It wasn’t easy to admit, even to yourself, but a part of you still held out hope for reconciliation. Not the fairytale kind, where everything magically resolved and all wounds were healed, but something quieter. A mutual understanding, perhaps. A moment where he’d open up, even just a little, and let you see the person behind all the walls he’d built.

You knew he was hurting. You’d always known, even when he tried to mask it with anger or indifference. His actions, the coldness, the distance, the biting remarks, were all symptoms of something deeper.  

But there was another part of you, a quieter voice that you couldn’t ignore. The part that braced for no change at all. That prepared for the possibility that when, if, he woke up, he’d still be the same person he was before. That he’d still look at you like you were the problem, the obstacle, the thing standing in the way of his happiness.

That part of you longed for freedom.

You’d spent so much time tangled up in his chaos, in his pain, that you’d almost forgotten what it felt like to just...be.

Maybe, if and when he woke up, he’d be willing to part ways. And maybe that would be for the best.

“I ran out of eggs!”

You blinked, momentarily disoriented. “What?”

“Eggs!” she repeated, holding up the empty carton. “I can’t believe I forgot them. I’m halfway through making this cake, and now I have to stop everything to run to the store.”

“I’ll go with you!” you said quickly, standing up from the couch so fast you nearly tripped over your own feet.

Kira froze, narrowing her eyes at you. “You know you’re not supposed to leave.”

“And you’re supposed to be at the courthouse, but here you are, baking a cake for a man.”

“First of all, it’s called paid time off,” she replied, narrowing her eyes further. “Secondly, San’s stroke game is top tier.”

“Oh my God, stop!” you cut her off, throwing your hands up. 

“I do not want to hear about your sex life with my cousin. He used to eat mud as a kid.”

Kira rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. “Anyway,” she continued, “your dad would absolutely kill me. He gave strict orders to keep you here. And unlike you, I actually follow them.”

“Come on, Kira,” you pleaded. Your eyes landed on Maro, lounging nearby. You scooped him up in one swift motion, holding him up like a fluffy shield. 

“Even Maro thinks it’s a good idea!”

Mingi tilted his head, his dark eyes widening as he gave Kira his best impression of a sad, helpless puppy.

“Look at him. He’s begging you.”

Kira groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is ridiculous.”

“It’s a quick trip. Five minutes, tops,” you promised, your tone bordering on desperate. “I won’t go anywhere, I’ll stay by your side the entire time!”

She sighed, clearly wavering. “Fine.”

The ding of the store’s bell announced your arrival, and the comforting smell of fried food from the deli counter made your stomach grumble. Kira grabbed a basket, striding purposefully toward the back where the eggs were stashed.

“Eggs,” she said firmly, shooting you a warning glance over her shoulder.

“Got it,” you replied, though your eyes immediately wandered to the chip aisle.

The small store was quiet, almost unnervingly still, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you. As you followed Kira, your gaze flicked around the store—a habit you’d picked up recently without fully realizing it. Your shoulders tensed, the faint prickling sensation at the back of your neck making you feel exposed. It was probably nothing, you told yourself, trying to brush it off.

Kira tossed a carton of eggs into the basket and turned to you with a raised brow. “Anything else?”

Her voice startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You blinked, momentarily disoriented, before grabbing a bag of chips from a nearby rack and a pack of chocolate-covered pretzels from the next shelf over.

“Alright, ready!” you chirped. 

The cashier rang up your items without much fuss, and soon you were both on your way. But as the store door clicked shut behind you, that sense of discomfort returned. You glanced over your shoulder, your movements slow and deliberate, as if any sudden motion might draw unwanted attention.

Your eyes darted to the empty street ahead, scanning the familiar buildings and darkened windows. It looked deserted, but the nagging feeling told you otherwise.

“You okay?” Kira asked, noticing your hesitation.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, the word tumbling out a little too fast. You forced a smile, hoping it looked convincing. 

You told yourself it was nothing, a stray thought feeding your paranoia. But as you turned the corner toward your apartment, your worst fears materialized. A shadow detached itself from the side of a building ahead, stepping into the weak glow of the nearest streetlamp. Your stomach dropped, and your chest tightened when you noticed the glint of the knife in hand. 

“Y/N.”

Your stalker. Your former nanny. 

Kira froze beside you, her posture immediately tense. Her free hand twitched toward her phone, but her other gripped your arm tightly, as if anchoring you in place. You shook her off with a small, almost imperceptible gesture, your lips moving silently to form the words: Call San.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t argue. She stepped back, her movements careful as she pulled her phone from her pocket.

“Hey…mom,” you said, your voice trembling but just steady enough to hold its own. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but it was all you could think of to buy yourself time.

The woman’s head tilted, her expression softening into something disturbingly tender. “Oh, my sweet Y/N,” she cooed, taking a step closer. 

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long,” she continued. “You’ve grown so much. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

The delusion in her voice sent ice down your spine. She didn’t just see you as a person. You were a possession—something she believed she owned.

“It’s been a while,” you said cautiously, keeping your tone light, though your hands trembled at your sides. 

“What…what are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to take you home!”

“Right…home,” you repeated, your stomach churning at the word. You took a step back, careful to keep your movements slow and nonthreatening. 

“Why don’t we go for a walk and catch up? I just ate, and walking helps with digestion. Did you know that?”

The woman blinked, her head tilting further to the side. For a moment, she seemed caught off guard by the suggestion.

“A walk?” she echoed, suspicion flickering across her face before fading into hesitant curiosity. “You want to spend time with me?”

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “O-Of course! I mean, it’s been so long, right? We have so much to talk about.”

Behind you, Kira moved as quietly as possible, her phone pressed to her ear as she whispered into the receiver. The nanny walked ahead, still clutching the knife tightly in her hand as your figures disappeared into the darkness.

⋆

Mingi paced restlessly around the penthouse, his claws clicking softly against the floor. His tail flicked with agitation, and his ears twitched, straining to catch a sound that wasn’t there. Something felt wrong—deeply, inexplicably wrong. You were only supposed to be gone with Kira for five  minutes. 

But those five minutes had turned to an hour. 

The door to the penthouse slammed open, and Jongho burst inside, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. His face was pale and his brow furrowed deeply as he listened to the voice on the other end.

“Yes, I’m here now,” he said hurriedly, his tone clipped and tense. Mingi froze mid-step, his ears flicking forward as Jongho’s words sank in. Looking for you? His heart dropped. Did something happen to you?

“I’ll stay here in case she comes back. Yes, San and Kira are out looking for her along with law enforcement.”

Mingi’s nose twitched, catching the faint remnants of Jongho’s scent. There was something else mingled with it—the sharp tang of fear. A shiver ran down his spine. Jongho wasn’t scared for himself; he was scared for you.

In his frenzy, Jongho forgot to shut the door completely. It clicked behind him, but the latch didn’t catch, leaving it slightly ajar as he retreated further into the penthouse. 

Mingi knew you were most definitely scared, but were relying on your wit to keep your abductor as distracted for as long as possible. But it could only go so far. You needed help. You needed him.

He darted after Jongho, letting out a short, sharp yip that made him turn with a frown.

“Maro?” Jongho’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Mingi barked again, more insistent this time. He jumped in place, then headbutted Jongho's leg with surprising force, urging him toward the hallway. When Jongho still didn’t move, Mingi let out a sharp yip, trotted to the door, and paused to bark over his shoulder. Come on, follow me!

Out in the hallway, Mingi’s incessant barking continued until Jongho relented, reaching out to push the call button for the elevator. 

Jongho stared down at the little dog, confusion etched across his face. “Why are you so interested in the elevator?” 

Mingi stayed silent in an attempt to get this timing right. Then, as soon as the doors began to close, he darted forward, squeezing inside at the last second. Jongho blinked, momentarily stunned, before the realization hit him.

“I just…got played by a dog.”

Outside, Mingi paused just long enough to pick up your scent on the breeze. Darting forward, Mingi weaved through the bustling crowd, his small frame slipping unnoticed between legs and around obstacles. His nose twitched, staying locked on the trail, as he took off into the night with the promise of finding you

“I’m coming,” he whispered under his breath, to keep himself moving. His legs burned, and his lungs ached, but he didn’t stop.

Your nanny stood a few feet away, as you guided her to a nearby park. Her body taut with a kind of unnatural stillness. Her expression was deceptively calm, but her eyes gleamed with something unhinged.

“How have you been? You’re married right? I see the ring on your finger.”

Your fingers twitched involuntarily, brushing against the cool platinum of your wedding band. It felt heavier than usual under her scrutinizing gaze. “I am,” you replied, keeping your tone calm and steady despite the way your stomach churned.

“Almost three years now.”

“Three years? That’s wonderful. What’s your husband like? Oh, I’d love to meet him!”

“Unfortunately, he’s on a business trip overseas. B-But when he comes back, maybe we could have dinner.”

Her smile stretched impossibly wider, her eyes glinting with a strange light as she clasped her hands together. “Dinner? Oh, how wonderful! Just like old times!”

“Y-Yeah, just like old times. You, me, um, Mingi and…dad.”

“Dad?” she echoed, her voice hollow and strained. “Your father?”

The moment the word "Dad" left your lips, her expression darkened and her grip on the knife tightened, turning her knuckles white as the blade trembled in her hand.

“No! Not him! Not while he’s married to that bitch!” she spat venomously. 

“You know, his wife didn’t love you like I did! She didn’t raise you! She wasn’t there for you!”

Her face twisted with fury, her voice rising as she screamed. “She left you behind! Do you remember that? Do you? She didn’t care about you! She abandoned you—threw you away like trash! But me? I stayed. I cared. I’m your family!”

Mingi’s ears perked up at the sound of that voice. It was her—the same woman who had tried to abduct Yena weeks ago. A low growl rumbled in his throat, but he forced his down, shifting his focus to the sights and sounds around him. In the distance, he caught fragments of Kira’s raised voice, as she argued with the District Attorney.

“She should never have been released!” 

“Her delusions weren’t just untreated, they were escalating. And instead of following protocol, the facility discharged her prematurely without an appropriate plan in place.”

Mingi’s ears flicked toward the sound as Kira’s voice grew louder, her pace quickening.

“The ruling was explicit! The family was to be notified of any changes in her care plan. But no one was! And now she’s out here, putting Y/N in danger!”

The echoes of Kira’s tirade faded into the background as Mingi tuned everything else out, his focus narrowing to a single goal. Find you. Protect you.

She won’t hurt you. I won’t let her, he promised. 

You swallowed hard, your mind racing as you searched for the right words to diffuse the situation. “You’re right,” you said gently, taking a slow step forward as your eyes stayed locked on the blade.

“I should’ve done more to stay in touch. You were important to me, and I didn’t show that the way I should have.”

Mingi crept closer, staying low and moving with careful precision. His small frame blended with the shadows cast by the trees, his paws silent against the ground. His ears were pinned back as he watched the stalker. For a split second, her grip on the knife faltered. Her expression softened, dimming into something more fragile, almost childlike.

But then her face contorted again. “You’re lying!” she screamed, taking a step toward you. 

“You don’t mean that! You’re just saying that to make me go away.” She took a step closer, the knife jerking with her erratic movements.

His nose twitched, catching the faint scent of your fear mingled with her unbridled rage. Her emotions were spiraling out of control, and with every step she took, the gap between you and danger grew smaller.

“I’m not,” you said firmly, taking a careful step backwards. 

“I mean it. You were there for me when I needed someone, and I want to be here for you now. But I can’t do that if you don’t trust me.”

She hesitated, the knife wavering slightly in her grip. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed like your words might be getting through.

Mingi inched closer, his eyes tracking her trembling hand, and his body tensed, ready to spring.

“You’ll leave me again! Just like her!”

That was his cue. With a burst of speed, Mingi darted forward, his small body a blur of motion. His sharp teeth clamped down on her ankle, eliciting a startled cry. She stumbled, but her fury only intensified. She lashed out blindly, her hand sweeping through the air, the knife flashing dangerously.

“Maro!” you screamed. 

Without hesitation, you lunged forward, your heart pounding as you reached for her wrist. Your grip was firm, fueled by adrenaline and sheer determination as you kicked her back, sending her stumbling slightly. With a swift motion, you scooped Mingi into your arms, cradling him against your chest.

As she steadied herself, her arm swung wildly and you raised your arm to shield Mingi. The knife sliced through your forearm leaving streaks of blood, but you didn’t let go, tightened your hold on him as you focused on the woman in front of you.

“I’m sorry you lost your daughter,” you began, your tone water as you tried to bite back the pain radiating down your arm.  

“I can’t imagine the pain you’ve been carrying, or how much it’s changed you. I’m sure whatever happened broke you in ways no one can see. But trying to replace her won’t bring her back.”

You could see the tears threatening to spill over, but they did nothing to soften her. If anything, they seemed to fuel her anger. Her grip on the knife tightened as she took a shaky step toward you. Your heart pounded and Mingi whimpered softly, pressing his small body closer to yours, and you instinctively held him tighter, bracing yourself.

“Police! Drop your weapon!” 

“Y/N!” your dad’s voice rang out. You turned your head just enough to see him running toward you, San and Kira close behind, flanked by a group of police officers.

The stalker froze, her head snapping toward the source of the commotion. Her grip on the knife faltered, and for a split second, you thought she might comply. But then her face contorted with fury once more, and she tightened her hold, her body tensing as if preparing to lunge.

“Stay back!” she screamed, her voice shrill and panicked.

The officers fanned out, their weapons drawn, their voices calm but firm as they repeated their commands. “Drop the knife! Put it down now!”

Your dad reached you first, his hand gripping your shoulder as he stepped slightly in front of you. “Are you hurt?” he asked urgently, his sharp eyes taking in the blood streaking down your arm and the puppy trembling in your hold.

“She cut me,” you admitted, glancing at the blood streaking down your arm. “It’s not deep, but—” You shifted Mingi slightly in your hold, cradling him closer. 

Mingi let out a soft, sleepy sigh, his head resting heavily against your chest as your dad checked you over. His breaths came slower now, each one softer than the last. His little paws twitched as though he were trying to cling to you.

His mind wandered, a hazy string of thoughts pulling him along. He couldn’t wait to go home, to finally feel safe and warm. He imagined curling up in your lap, nuzzling into your arms while you stroked his fur. He thought about Hetmon and all the running around they’re going to do at the park.

Oh, and snacks, he thought sleepily. Lots of snacks. His little tail gave a faint twitch at the thought, but even that felt like too much effort now.

Just a nap, he thought. I’ll rest for a bit, then we’ll go home. We’ll be okay.

When Mingi woke, the air around him was...different. It wasn’t the plush sheets of your bed or the soft pillow he’d grown accustomed to sleeping on. Instead, he found himself in a small, cozy basket lined with a soft cushion, placed near a gently crackling fireplace. 

He blinked, his vision adjusting to the soft light streaming through the windows of a small cottage. The space was intimate, with wooden walls lined with shelves overflowing with books, plants, and stacks of parchment. The scent of tea and ink hung in the air, faint but familiar, tugging at something deep in Mingi’s memory.

The atmosphere was comforting, nostalgic even, though Mingi couldn’t quite place why. 

“Ah,” the man said, his lips curling into a soft smile. “You’re finally awake.”

Mingi’s ears perked up as he turned toward the sound. A man crouched next to him–his features were sharp but his expression was soft and kind. Mingi tilted his head, his ears twitching as he studied the man. He’d never met him before, but his scent was unmistakable. 

It was audacious and bold, much like the jazz notes he remembered sitting on the piano back at home. 

Kim Hongjoong?

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[dixons-sunshine]

Together | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Daryl were thousands of miles away from your home. In an unknown country filled with new threats, you knew that you had to fight for your life—and hour unborn child’s. And you knew that you eventually had to tell Daryl about it, too.

Genre: Angst? Fluff? I don’t even know.

Era: France

Warnings: Swearing, canon typical violence, pregnancy, probably inaccuracies in this regarding the episode.

Word count: 1k

A/N: Requested by @holdmytesseract. This is the request you sent my way a long time ago lol. I hope you like this! Also, I’m sorry if this might be inaccurate regarding the episode. I haven’t watched it in a hot minute and did not have the time to watch it again, so I had to improvise on what I remembered.

Everything was happening so fast. One moment, you and Daryl were walking away from the monastery, your respective bags slung over your shoulders and well on your way to… you did not know, but you knew you were going away from the community of nuns. The next moment, you and Daryl were rushing back towards the very same community, weapons raised and helping to fight off the onslaught of bad people that had infiltrated their defences.

Admittedly, although you were focused on helping the nuns defend the only home they had left in the world run by the undead, your mind kept wandering back to the fact that you needed to take as little damage as possible. You could not get hurt. Not now, and not anytime in the near future. You could not risk it—your baby’s safety depended on it.

Your baby. Those words still felt so surreal for you to say. Under normal circumstances, you would have been over the moon with joy at the prospect of starting a family, but the realization had come at the worst of times. You were in a different country, thousands of miles away from your home and your family with seemingly no way of getting back, so the news did not exactly serve to make anyone feel better, and it would only ensure that more stress get placed on not only your shoulders, but Daryl’s as well.

It was your worry that had prohibited you from telling the crossbow-wielding archer of his impending fatherhood, and now you were in yet another life-threatening situation with no guarantees of survival. You promised yourself that if you lived through this, the first thing you would tell Daryl was that you were pregnant.

With your gun raised in front of you, sister Isabelle followed closely behind you as you rushed further into the garden. Your eyes momentarily found your husband’s figure fighting off one of the guys, and although your every instinct told you to go help him, you knew you couldn’t. Isabelle had asked you to help her ensure that Laurent stayed safe, and you were not one to unnecessarily endanger a child’s life.

“Where did you say you put him?!” you yelled to sister Isabelle over the deafening sounds of gun shots being fired, shooting an approaching walker in the head.

Isabelle pulled you aside to hide behind one of the walls when a bullet flew dangerously close to the two of you, her heart practically beating out of her chest. “Towards that building with that secret room where you and Daryl saw our weapons.”

“That’s on the other side of this place!” you exclaimed, your eyes widening as your mind scrambled to think of any sort of plan to get there.

However, your thoughts got cut off by the feeling of someone harshly gripping your shoulder and pulling you back. Unwillingly, a scream left your throat, one that got silenced when a blade got pushed against your neck.

The man’s breath fanned over your cheek, but his attention shifted away from you and towards Isabelle. “Try anything, and the bitch gets it,” he voiced in a thick French accent, deliberately speaking English so that you could understand him as well.

As quickly as the man got his grip on you, it fell away just as quickly. The knife fell from his hand and to the floor with a dull clink, and the man fell down to the floor, nearly taking you with him but you jumped forward just in time. You turned around and saw Daryl standing there, his cerulean eyes filled to the brim with both worry and rage.

You quickly turned around to look at Isabelle. However, you did not even have to say anything. She simply nodded at you, an understanding look in her eyes.

“I’ll go.” With that, she turned around and hurried away, leaving you alone with Daryl.

Daryl’s eyes locked with yours when you spun back around to gaze at him. He gently pulled you behind the wall to relative safety. “Are you—”

“I’m pregnant,” you blurted out, taking both you and Daryl by surprise. You, because you had not intended to say that at that moment, and Daryl because he had not even known you were with child.

“What?” he asked, bewildered and taken off guard.

“I’m pregnant,” you repeated, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. I was so scared of how you’d react. I just wanted to let you know in case something happened.”

Despite the shock still lingering, and the slight anger at the fact that you had kept it from him, he knew there were far more pressing matters at hand. And despite the situation you both were in, he could not help the small feeling of happiness at the news. However, there would be time to discuss everything later. Right now, his only concern was keeping you safe. His mind went into overdrive, and he was in full protective mode.

“Ain’t nothin’ gon’ happen to ya,” he spoke gruffly. He reloaded his gun and sent you a pointed look. “Stay close to me at all times, okay? We’re gettin’ outta this. You’re gonna be alright. M’gonna make sure of it.”

Despite the tenseness of your predicament, you managed to give him a small, genuine smile. You nodded and made sure to cock your own gun, preparing yourself for what was to come.

“Okay,” you replied softly.

Together, both you and Daryl braced yourselves to keep fighting back against the bad people. You both pushed through and rushed towards where you saw Laurent and Isabelle, and despite the fact that you were battling for your own survival, you felt oddly at peace.

This, you could do. Fighting for your life was not something new to you. You had done so against many forces, from the Governor, to the Terminus people, to Negan, the Whisperers and so many more. You would not go down easily.

And although you and Daryl had a lot to talk about, you knew that everything would work out in the end. It always did. Your love for Daryl was strong, and his love for you might even be stronger. The two of you would get through this, and you would do it together.

[katmostardently]

Set after the Doyle arc, Emily’s been a bit distant and guilty for everything, you’ve been patient nonetheless.

Implied death, hurt/comfort, fluff, barely implied smut

ʕ⁎̯͡⁎ʔ༄

Word count: 737 words

a/n: I got some ideas after listening to Would You Fall in Love with Me Again, it’s short but it’s 4 am, I blame all my mistakes on that. I currently have some ideas for longer stuff but I’m lazy, tired, and uninspired so here are my scraps!! :;(∩´﹏`∩);:

Would You Fall in Love with Me Again

“I’m sorry, I know I’m not the Emily you fell in love with.”

Her voice cracked, and you’d never quite seen Emily so broken down. You could see the genuine sorrow in her eyes, each line of her face filled with guilt. After getting out of a life or death situation because of Doyle, it was as though the only thing she had left for you was regret. Emily hated it, because someone like you didn’t deserve it

Someone like you didn’t deserve to have your heart shattered, torn to bits, to be forced into grieving, just to have it all been for nothing. Yet here you were, and that was just what happened.

Even if a week had passed since her return, hardly anything was settling in, even then, you were still there.

You placed the plate of spaghetti you’d just prepared for Emily down, settling on the couch next to her. “Emily-“, you were quick to start, and Emily was quick to silence you.

“I’m sure you’re more upset than anyone on the team, you… You’re wearing my ring for god’s sake, I couldn’t bring myself to even let you know about all this…” Emily’s mouth had quivered, letting out a shaky breath as she turned to you. “I made you wait, and now I’m not even the woman you adored so much. Y/n, I…”

She looked at you, not wanting to leave you alone ever again, but at that same moment, not feeling worthy to hold you in her arms. “I’m so sorry…” Sure, Emily was in fact changed, anyone would be.

She had this tired look in her eyes, like she wasn’t truly there, like she needed some escape. You saw it in the moments where she got home from work, when she’d secretly discard your food at night. The cigarettes in Emily’s pockets, the nights you’d wake up and cradle her through a nightmare. It all tore away at her piece by piece.

But in those same eyes, you saw the same eyes that lit up every time you were near, the same eyes that called to you with a single glance.

The same eyes, pooled with that intense devotion, that stared up to you when she knelt down on one knee a year ago.

“It’s true, you left me waiting, and it hurt, the fact that I couldn’t know you were alright.” You answered her honestly, “but it hurt even more to think you were dead. I wanted whatever monster took you from me to suffer, and I felt cursed thinking that you were taken from me.”

Before she could muster a response, you took Emily’s hand, holding it against your cheek.

Instinctively, she traced her thumb against your lips.

“And I’m so, so, so happy that you’ve come back to me.” With the way you were looking at her, Emily was certain that she’d married a princess—no, some generous, all forgiving goddess.

“I don’t deserve you…” She whispered, her hand continuing its gentle caress.

You let out a little chuckle at her words, shaking your head, “see, now only my Emily, would say something so untrue. Because you, Emily Prentiss, deserve the world.”

Then to be exact, it felt as though you gave Emily a whole galaxy, because in moments like these you always brought her some solace. There was not a single doubt you couldn’t crush with your benign palms.

She could simply hold you close in response, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you felt her heartbeat.

Emily knew that her heart would never stop, not when she’d been given the best of all women to be her fiance. She vowed to never let it stop, not when you’d be waiting for her, she could never again leave you frozen in time. Her dearest, y/n y/l/n, soon to be y/n Prentiss.

Perhaps she didn’t have to worry all that much, because somehow, you fell back in love with her new, shattered self. But really, you just simply never stopped loving her, there was no need to win you back, to make you fall in love again.

“Now… Your spaghetti’s gonna get cold….” You reminded, about to move when Emily stopped you, tenderly pushing you against the cushions. “I want my fiancé right now, not some spaghetti…” She murmured against your neck, and you smiled in response.

Forevermore, you’d never even think of giving up Emily Prentiss.

[j-partneringrime]

tr!aimsey is such an interesting character especially their relationship with death, they’re someone who has become so intrinsically linked with death, starting as a morbid fascination with learning more about it which became more and more obsessive until he eventually overstepped trying to directly mess with it. And now it is a more desperate fascination with it and specifically trying to figure out how to reach it for themselves which unlike the normal curiosity that they went too far with, this is the opposite, a much more serious and desperate curiosity which he have basically given up on trying to figure out at this point. Because once death wants something, it gets it, which normally isn’t that big a deal because death normally wants you to die, which is gonna happen eventually, so no big deal. But if you mess with death too much and it decides it doesn’t want you anymore, that isn’t as simple, death actually gets to show its power, so it takes your magic you used to disrupt it to begin with, but that’s not enough for death, so it gives you immortality, or more accurately curses you with never dying since they can still feel the pain and the dying but without any of the relief of death and the pain stays with them even after coming back, with the burns from losing her magic, losing his eye from the enderman/creeper and now the sword slash from ros. They had nothing anymore except their studies and so she put everything into necromancy and learning more about death, and they did good, they got close, so close that death didn’t like it, so then they truly had nothing, not even their magic, they lost everything, even the one thing you always have in life, the certainty of death, was gone.

That could make you become such a deeply lonely person, I mean imagine if you lost everything, had no one, not even death itself wanted you, that would mess you up, but she has had a long time to come to terms with it and grow from it, which also means she’s one of the most intelligent, especially emotionally intelligent, people, which meant that when they did get close to people again, they were a massive help for advice and help for their friends, which is good for their friends but also for aimsey themself, having that connection that they need after so long, having meaningful talks gives a connection you can’t explain, even if those meaningful talks are mostly one way, since aimsey is very secretive about themself and her past and almost refuses to say anything about herself and dismisses any attempt to try to get him to open up, but even with all that, it is still massively helpful for a character who needs connection so much.

Until eventually his friends, especially tr!ros get too strong an idea in her head on what they should do or what she “needs” to do that even though she’s still coming everyday for advice, she doesn’t seem to actually be listening anymore, it didn’t matter how many times they tried to help ros, she just wouldn’t budge from this inherently flawed idea that she is convinced will help her, and everyone else, which isn’t just bad for ros but also for aimsey, who has needed this connection so much and has begun to rely on it, even if it’s annoying that he’s seemingly the only person who actually has common sense or foresight with how much advice she’s having to give out, they’ve gotten used to being able to express their thoughts and opinions on situations and having their friends listen and care so seeing that they’re no longer really listening and are just doing their own ideas anyway would really hurt. Trying to help and make plans to help ros, only to show up the next day and find out she hasn’t actually listened and just took what aimsey said and used their plan instantly without seeing that that wasn’t the actual plan aimsey said to her. So the advice and talks eventually became more desperate trying to get through to ros because this isn’t her, this is her getting tired of what’s happening and needing to fix it so forming an entire idea in her head without seeing that this idea wouldn’t work and already isn’t working because she needs it to work, so it didn’t matter how much aimsey tried to get through to her, it wouldn’t work, until eventually they talk about where this idea in ros’s head is rooted, which is respect, the idea that if she can get them to respect her, they’ll stop, which she is going about doing by making them fear her, even though fear and respect are vastly different things. And aimsey says that to her which leads to the most important question they’ve had, would ros kill aimsey to get everyone to respect and or fear her, and when aimsey asks ros this, their closest friend, the person they trust more than anything, the person they can count on, that they can both count on each other to pull each other back, to save each other from themselves, they ask ros… and ros hesitates, and that’s all they need to know, the fact that ros could hesitate means that in her head there is a part of her that would and that part just seems to be getting bigger and bigger the more she spirals in this idea of respect. And then ros says no, which as much as she says it, isn’t the truth, the truth is she doesn’t know if she would or not, and that’s the worst part, not only would she consider doing it but she won’t admit it, to aimsey or herself, they’re supposed to be helping each other and ros instead of being honest and saying she doesn’t know, lies and says no, of course not, she could never hurt him, which is of course coming from a place of love for aimsey and not wanting to ever think about and especially not say they’d ever hurt her, but to someone as perceptive as aimsey, they can clearly tell ros is conflicted on it and even though know they know ros is a good person, of course she is obviously, that was never in question, but even knowing what a truly kind person ros is, that doesn’t change the pain learning something like that has. So aimsey pulls them up on it and makes ros confront that side of her, for good or bad doesn’t matter, because it needs to happen to help ros, one way or the other, and so they convince her to fight, which or course ros tries to argue about but still tries to make aimsey see her side of it, still not seeing that her side doesn’t really exist, it’s just a desperate attempt to stop the fighting by any means, by any cost, not seeing that no fighting, no threats should ever make them turn on each other, would ever make aimsey turn on ros, especially not to gain some form of respect from the people they already don’t like. Ros is too caught up in protecting her friends that she can’t see her friends don’t need protecting, aimsey doesn’t need protecting.

And you can see how deeply this is affecting aimsey because they’re talk about how they’re glad they chose to be alone, they’re with their best friend and they’re saying how they’re glad to be alone, because right now this isn’t their best friend, or at least not that they can recognise right now, because he has spoke so much about how everyone is killing just to kill and how that is one of, if not the, biggest problems they have with them, so for ros to now believe that she needs to do that to aimsey to “protect” them and gain respect from others, even though she already has aimsey’s and the kingdom’s respect (mostly), is obviously gonna be upsetting for aimsey and a massive loss of trust. And they start fighting, they both swing, and then they both swing again, then aimsey stops and ros swings again and then ros swings one last time and aimsey is dead, but of course, it doesn’t last. Because if one of them was gonna die, they’d rather it be themselves, if that’s because they can’t actually die or because they can’t bring themselves to kill ros, we don’t know (although it’s probably almost definitely both). But either way ros still doesn’t get to live, because she killed aimsey and death doesn’t want that happening, the past times it’s been a mob but this time it’s a player, and they won’t allow that to happen, so it instantly makes one of its already dead kill ros… instantly, because you don’t mess with death or the ones death has already chosen to punish itself. And after the fight, his relationship with death comes back up, with her asking, basically begging, death to let them go and just let them die, but of course, they were denied again, because even after all that with ros, they still can’t have anything, everything they want always so close yet so far, always. And then after they both parted ways after the fight, aimsey when thinking about going to ros, thinks ros won’t want to see them, instead of themself not wanting to see her, after the fight, he doesn’t stew in what ros did and get angry, he just kinda goes crazy (and high and poisoned), both because of what happened with ros and also probably experiencing death again. Because even though, they just fought and definitely lost a lot of trust in each other, they still care about each other and want to protect each other above all else, because the amount of trust they have in each other, one fight, no matter how big, will change that. tr!aimsey is SUCH an interesting and compelling character, and their relationship with death and tr!ros especially is amazing! I can’t wait to see what happens next.

(this is mainly about tr!aimsey so tr!ros comes off a bit bad from their arguments, but I promise I think tr!ros is a genuinely good person, just conflicted right now and she is also an amazing and interesting character)