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wangxianficfinder · 1 month ago

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Fic Finder

May 20th

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1. Hi! I'm looking for a fic where baby a-yuan and lan zhan travel back in time to during the sunshot campaign, and lan zhan tells everyone that a-yuan is his son, thank you! @suwuiko

FOUND? Lan Yuan’s War by BurningTea (G, 196k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Dad lwj, Sunshot Campaign, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Rumours, CQL Verse, Mental Health Issues, Sick LWJ)

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2. hi hi, hope you're doing well~ I'm looking for this one fic where the burial mounds area is like a veil of a separate, more dangerous, realm and there are monsters that are starting to break through the realm. Since the monsters are seen more often there have also been sightings of black-robed, red ribbon wearing people who are able to fight them more efficiently. It all comes to a head when there's a discussion conference and wwx shows up after either being asked to help or eavesdropping and helping ojt anyways, but theres lots of monster fighting and its v cool. wwx, wei yuan, song lan and/or xxc (?) and all the wens live there because of this insane thing that wwx rigged up that sustains this shield within by using rhe stygian tiger seal. The fic kind of ends with the core reveal and wwx pushing himself so much that lwj does a golden core transfer and gives his own core to wwx.

FOUND! 💖 Echo, Murmur, Dream, Here by bluerainmist (M, 51k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Universe Alteration, the yiling patriarch survives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catharsis, Slow Burn, Drama, Getting Together, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Melancholy, Love, Mutual Pining, Reunions, Love Confessions, Eventual Smut, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Switching, Grief/Mourning, fucking while pining, Implied/Referenced Torture, Self-Harm, golden core transfer, Playing fast and loose with worldbuilding, Battle Scenes, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, implied / Referenced suicide attempt, Sect Leader WWX, YLLZ WWX, Yílíng Wèi Sect)

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3. thank you so much for this blog!!! you have helped me find so many great reads! for your next fic finder, can you help me find a story i’ve searched for but cant find. its modern, no cultivation. Lan Zhan is part of big publishing company. believe Wei Ying is living with Wen Ning - dont remember how LZ/WY get together but at some point LZ discovers that WY has created a beautiful gaming world and happy ending LZ’s company publishes it as hugely successful game. hope this is enough info!

FOUND! 🧡 Where’s Your Emergency? by trippednfell (M, 64k, WangXian, 911 Dispatcher WWX, Single dad LWJ, Kid fic, Modern AU, D&D Games, Angst with a happy ending)

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4. FF request please!

All I remember is wangxian had confessed and WWX was texting JC who didn’t really want to know but asked anyway and WWX responded with “cri cri, kith, more cri and kith kith kith” and JC was all “why did I even ask?!”

It was cute and multi chapter, I think? I wanna read it again so bad. Plz! 🙏

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5. Hi! Please help me find a fic I've been looking after for ages!

It starts with Qin Su using the body sacrifice spell to bring Jiang Yanli into her body. Later on, Jiang Yanli tricks Xue Yang into using the same spell to resurrect Wei wuxian. I also think that Wei wuxian eventually manages to change his face back into his old one but uses a fake Xue Yang face when trying to uncover the plots of the Jin sect @avendesora-sedai

FOUND? the problem with authority by isabilightwood (M, 139k, WangXian, QingLi, Canon Divergence, Sacrifice Summon, slightly dark!JYL, wq lives because i said so, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chronic Pain, Mild Sexual Content, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian, manipulative relationship (background xiyao))

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6. hii!! I just wanted to thank you for all that you do for fanfic readers, we really very appreciate you!

I have been looking for a fanfic on AO3 for months and I have a feeling it may have been deleted but on the off chance it wasn't and I'm just a terrible finder, I was hoping you can help me? it was around a 20k one shot of wei ying in a modern universe with no magic and he is dealing with guilt for having caused a car accident that injured jc and yanli. he left them to live alone recovering from a leg injury and he met wen qing who was working at a supermarket. she wanted him to care for his injury when he was not doing so. there was a scene where he was taking care of plants in his apartment and deciding to meet the jiangs again. sorry it's so long but I wanted to read it again!

FOUND? #6 is a fic by ribena called "take yourself home" , I have a pdf. DM me if you would like it! @/the-marathon-continues-nip

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7. 🥺🙏 would you happen to know a wangxian fic where lwj is the moon god and wwx is the death god and they were together but 'broke up' before the start of the fic.

the fic's main plot follows 3 mortals who are sent to the heavenly realm to somehow solve the problem of why wangxian broke up and it turned out toq be a huge misunderstanding in the end. lots of mystery and worldbuilding around thr heavenly realm, with most of thr mdzs as deities of different types. a side of mpreg in the final chapters with mo xuanyu as wangxian's spiritual energy baby.

also: mo xuanyu was the name formed from the characters of each mortals name. @pogopogopogo

FOUND? The Gods of Love by 0_Heta_0 (M, 73k, WangXian, background XuanLi, Greek Gods, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Homophobia, POV Outsider)

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8. Hi! I'm searching for a fic I really liked but haven't marked anywhere and now I can't find it😭 I don't remember the title nor author buy it had a very unique plot I remember quite well. Here are a few key points I remember:

Wangxian are married and I'm almost sure it was Royalty AU

Wwx lost pieces of his soul and Lan Zhan is trying to find them in other people

It was mpreg and Wangxian had Sizhui and Jingyi

It was sorta morally gray lwj, since he is sacrificing people in hopes that one of them will being Wei Ying's consciousness back

Wei Ying is not dead but he is dull and I think he bearly spoke

Everyone is still alive

There was some sort of archery competition when a character (I think it was Mo Xuanyu but I'm not so sure) that lwj suspected to have a connection with Wei Ying shows up and he crashes against a tree and Wei Ying feels his pain

Then Wei Ying started appearing in this characters mirror and spoke to him angerly because to gain that characters trust lwj had to kinda flirt and show fake affection to that character and wwx sees it through the mirror and is very angry

Then after sacrificing that character Wei Ying's consciousness is back and he refuses to talk to Lan Wangji, he also isn't aware of how long he was gone for because he only remembers that Sizhui was 3 and that he had still pregnant with Jingyi but in fact 16 years has passed

This fic was not finished from what I remember and I think it was also a part of a series. Please help me find it, thank youuu! <3 @misiasb

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9. Hiiii for the next find finder can you help me with this story (it was on AO3 ) I’ve been searching a couple days now and I cannot find it :c

where wwx and lwj are already in a relationship it’s posible for it to be post canon. another sect sends a group of female cultivators to train I think it was under lwj but the leader of that group is really bold and it’s trying to get lwj’s affection (obviously not working) so they finally go to hunt something and wwx has to finish the threat cause lwj gets hurt or I think he rescues one of the girls and she takes the opportunity to steal a kiss. At some point in the story it was explained that the sect the girls come from has homophonic views and didn’t help in a case because of it.

FOUND? Just As Much by Gemiblu (E, 23k, WangXian, Jealousy, Boys In Love, Homophobia, demonic cultivation bondage, Power Bottom WWX, Cockblocking, Semi-Public Sex, Crying During Sex, Intimacy, New World, Female Characters, Casual Intimacy, mentions of non-canon character death, description of violent acts, post marriage, Explicit Sexual Content, Kissing, Affection, supportive married couple, Pet Names, YLLZ WWX)

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10. hi im looking for a fic i can’t seem to find, but basically it was a misunderstanding trope with wwx entering the body of a female cultivator instead of mo, and the cultivation world thinking they’re engaged and lan zhan still falling for her. if i remember right the summary had a mention of wwx wearing zidian? thank you!

FOUND? By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, WangXian, Mix of CQL and MDZS, Identity Porn, WWX has an atypical relationship with gender)

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11. Hi! I did find the post! Sorry for the trouble. I don’t use Tumblr a lot! There was a fic recommended but unfortunately that is not the one I was looking for.

I think WWX gave up the Tiger Seal and they were escorting him somewhere after that. The seal suddenly apparently and hide itself in WWX robes. LWJ saw it but didn’t say anything. Then later on the road it comes out and WWX was surprised bc he gave it up in the Jin.

The tiger seal was kinda like a cat. @saint-ly-sins

NOT FOUND? Turn a little faster by apathyinreverie (T, 42k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Humor, Pining LWJ, Oblivious WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Yin Iron, POV LWJ, time travel outsider pov, WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, Falling In Love, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, BAMF WWX, Crack Treated Seriously) There is the one where the Yin Iron is hiding in Wei Yings clothing while he goes around in the past thinking everything is a hallucination.

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12. Hello again!! You guys are wonderful and I was hoping you could help me find a fic I lost. I checked your relevant comp post and still can’t find it.

It was emperor!lwj, and he was married off to wwx as his empress, but cared not for the marriage (not even bothering to glance under wwx’s veil), and didn’t come to him on their wedding night. Wwx is sent off to a deserted, disrepaired palace (the cold palace, maybe?) essentially to be forgotten, and to make the best of a bad situation, wwx+some of the wens (who are ostensibly his staff) begin to farm and actually become a self-sustaining household. Lwj spots wwx one day and is immediately smitten but wwx makes him GROVEL, including doing menial labor on the farm. Wwx wants to remain cold towards lwj for the rejection, but of course eventually thaws and falls for him. I think lan xichen may have been scheming with jgy in this one but I can’t remember for certain. Any other fics where wwx truly makes lwj grovel and not just forgives him for whatever slight that you know of would also be appreciated!

Thank you so much!!!!

FOUND? 我的皇后是農民 | sowing seeds in the cold palace by sweetlolixo (E, 84k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Imperial Consort WWX, Farmer WWX, Angst, Romance, Wingman LJY, Wife-chasing-LWJ, Arranged Marriage, Best Boy A-Yuan)

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13. Hello! I am simply terrible at remembering to bookmark fics. I was trying to find the fic where lwj and wwx go back in time at the events of night less city after lwj stabs wwx with his sword by accident? I had thought it was We Can See a New Start, but that’s clearly not it. I can’t narrow down the tags enough to find it, so I’m turning to yall. Thank youu

FOUND! Regrets by antebunny (G, 38k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Canon Divergence, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Explicit Descriptions of Love, and other squishy feelings, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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14. For days I've been trying to find this fic. I'm not sure with the details like if wei wuxian is a farmer here or older (i think he is a farmer though) but what I remember is lan wangji making advances to wei wuxian while sleeping (wei wuxian here is known as a heavy sleeper ) but at some point wei wuxian got awake during those and from then on anticipate what lan wangji gonna do, so he knows what lan wangji is doing and there's a number of that that happens. Also, lan wangji is running out of time because he was about to go to the main central or the palace to take an imperial exam (? I'm not sure if that's the term) anyway, he was going with lan sizhui to take that exam. I'm not sure if he goes on the day of the exam but I vaguely remember that he confess his feelings to wei wuxian before or on that day. Then they did the everyday. ヾ(＠゜▽゜＠）ノ

(I seen this post, can I have this? Anyone?) @lanwuxian0725

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15. Hellooo, I'm looking for a modern au where wwx has amnesia and doesn't remember being in a relationship or possibly even married to lwj, so they tell him they're roommates and remove all hints from their shared appartment. I remember wwx wondering why his room seems to have no personality (because it's the guest room) and him figuring it out when he goes snooping in lwj's room (which is of course their shared bedroom). I think lxc was involved in hiding the "evidence". Please, hivemind, send help! @wingsofbadass

FOUND! Hi I'm the one who was looking for the amnesia au, #15 on the 20.05. Fic Finder. Through an incredible group effort that involved someone remembering the pfp attached to the threadfic, someone recognizing whose pfp it was, and me combing through my discord history, we have figured out that it was a thread by yeehawmeowqing who has since deactivated and has asked to remain a memory.

not super helpful, but I am almost positive that I've read 15 and now I can't find it anywhere so it's possible it's been deleted? or hidden in a collection? if anyone keeps track of those things, that might be somewhere to look.

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16. Hello - I am looking for a fic where wwx was helping in a fisherman village. He ends up getting very close with a family there. Also he sent a few kids from that village to Jinlintai to learn cultivation and JL kept complaining that those hooligans were destroying koi tower. WWX end up marrying lwj at the village @hid9884

FOUND! Linger by the Door (I’ve Always Been Yours) by piecrust (T, 78k, wangxian, slow burn, canon compliant)

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17. Hello, I'm looking for a fanfiction, A/B/O world, Wuxian is an omega whose Mrs. Yu arranged a marriage with the alpha, Lan Wangji. At the same time, Yangli was supposed to marry Zixuan. I remember that it was a story from Yanli's point of view, who is bitter that Zixuan doesn't love her and didn't make her equal in the relationship, while Wangji made Wuxian equal in the relationship, which was not common. The Wangxians weren't in love before the marriage, but they respected each other and eventually fell in love. I know that equality in alpha-omega relationships was important in this story. @cityofhappiness

FOUND? 🔒 Alliance AU by Ilona22 (E, 23k, WangXian, JYL/OC, Arranged Marriage, A/B/O Dynamics, PWP, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Intersex Omegas, Not JC Friendly, Matchmaking, canon Jiang family dynamics, Family time, Night Hunts, Mention of male omega pregnancy, Intrigue at Jinlintai, Mentions of Prostitution, War, Conflict between characters) with part 5 being the one I think they're after

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18. Hello! Please help me find a fic where Wei Wuxian wakes up in Mo Xuanyu's body but as time passes his looks change into his old body. I'm like 85% sure it was from a third person viewpoint and the junior ducklings reaction was also written. I read this fic about 2 years ago I think and for some reason didn't bookmark it! Please help me find it I will forever appreciate and love you if you did<333 @aryadaiki

But the one I'm searching for was shorter than this it's mostly just reactions of everyone around him

Im sorry it's neither of those (⁠╯⁠︵⁠╰⁠,⁠) it's very gradual and no one noticed until he's completely transformed in his old body

NOT FOUND! Saw My Life in a Stranger’s Face by timetoboldlygo (T, 27k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Married Life, Domestic Fluff, Light Angst, wwx’s face changes post-canon to look like his original face, Slight Panic Attack, because lwj doesn’t recognize his husband, the mortifying ordeal of not knowing your own body, the terrifying inevitability of change, taller!wwx theory)

NOT FOUND! Is Your Old Body Considered a Halloween Costume? by The_peregrine_falcon (G, 3k, WangXian, WWX's original body, Fluff, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon)

NOT FOUND! Transcend by covalentbonds (Not Rated, 7k, WIP, WangXian, Post-Canon, Fluff and Humor, Smut, YLLZ WWX is prettiest fight me)

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19. Hi, I’m looking for a fic where wwx has been wondering the world by himself. I believe little apple was with him, but him and lwj were sharing a bed together in an inn and wwx was anxious about it because he didn’t think lwj liked him back. I’m so sorry if this description is bad 😭

FOUND? all I find is you by daltoneering (E, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Fluff, Confessions, There Was Only One Bed, First Time, finding home in unexpected places, Braid LWJ, Wound Tending)

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20. Help me find this fanfic. When Wei Wuxian fell off the mountain (it think the one in night less city) instead of succumbing to his own death, he was saved by baoshan sanren and was it with lan yi or lan an? He suffered from amnesia and forgot his son with Lan Wangji. He lived with Baoshan Sanren, together with Song Lan, Xingchen and the blind girl. @lu-wanji

FOUND? Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, WangXian, LSZ & LWJ & WWX, Canon Divergence, war changes people, no pinning, LWJ learns how to speak, WWX is not oblivious, Established Relationship, wangxian are married and have a son, Mpreg, Good Uncle LQR, a little grey LWJ, a bit of JC bashing from LWJ, BAMF JYL, 16 years of yearning, Canon-Typical Violence, LSZ is LWJ & WWX’s Child, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Canonical Character Death - WWX, Canon Rewrite, Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts)

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#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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miley1442111 · 1 year ago

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thank god for dr. spencer reid

a/n: this was written with a fem!reader in mind but imagine what you want, reader has a period (same girl) :) spencer us such a cutie in this :)))))))

summary: your shitty family is in town and spencer is away, what will you do?

pairing: spencerreid x reader

warnings: heavy family issues, mentions of stress and sickness, very brief mention of abuse (litch not talked about just referenced dw), kinda cursing (just realised i've never warned this before... opps) and i might've missed some!

My eyes are glued to the screen with a perpetual frown playing on my lips. It’s hard to try to care about my job when I have this looming feeling of dread hanging over me like a cloud. Spencer has been MIA for days now. He left in a hurry on Monday night for a case. It’s Saturday now and he hasn’t been responding to my calls. On top of that, I have dinner with my mother and father. Both of them make it abundantly clear that they’re disappointed in my career choice, which is ridiculous because I’m a lawyer. Not the right kind of lawyer they constantly say. I’m an environmental lawyer and I make good money. The only way to satiate their insufferable whining is with Spencer. They love him. They probably love him more than me at this point. Alas, I will just have to deal with them alone tonight. And today has already been one hell of a day. First, Morgan called me,asking where Spencer was, telling me that they finished and that they should be home soon. He had not come home yet. Secondly, I feel like shit, an allergic reaction, my period and some random nausea all add up to making me feel itchy, gross, and practically vile all over. Thirdly, a huge pimple has decided to pop up on my face and just know my mother will comment on it. My mother is one of those women who look effortlessly put-together 24/7. I am not one of those women. She does not like women who don’t look effortlessly put together. Aka, she barely tolerates me.

I sigh and close my laptop screen, unable to reread the same few sentences again and again, hoping that they would get into my brain. I’m defending a client, one of my firm's biggest clients, in court next week. They were accused of illegal dumping (dumping they did not commit) and now they’re being sued for 2 million dollars. I slump out of my desk chair and out of my home office, locking it behind me for the weekend ahead. If I have court next week and Spencer is coming home after a difficult case, then we’ll need a day or rest and relaxation together. That is, if he even bothers to come home. I busy myself with getting ready and try to push those thoughts out of my head.

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The last hour of my life has been 60 minutes of absolute misery. Why did I ever accept this invite? My mother excuses herself to the bathroom and my father excuses himself for a cigarette, I nod along. Then it hits me… my dad doesn’t smoke anymore. I stare at the door and before I can stop myself my face contorts into a frown once again. Amelia, my sister. The sister that I haven't seen in years. The sister that bullied and abused me throughout our teenage years. Fuck.

“Amelia?” I question, looking at the blonde woman who looks… different. She’s obviously older than I remember, and a bit more… I don’t know how to put it. Her blonde hair surpasses her waist and she seems to be pregnant? Her blue eyes seem dull and lack a certain vividness they used to sparkle with. She’s the typical peaking in high-school mean girl who became a nurse girl. I honestly can’t believe I used to look up to her.

“It’s so good to see you!” She smiles, one of her fake-bitchy smiles and I grimace as she tries to hug me. “I just wanted to know how you’re doing, especially with the baby on the way, I’ll need all the help I can get!”

My heart drops. “Oh!” Is all I can manage. She sits in the seat beside me and I instinctively move further away. Just as I think this stupid dinner can’t get any worse, her pervy fiancé, Johnny, walks in.

“No Spencer?” He smirks. “What? Did you two break up? He was always too vanilla for you, you need a real man-”

“No, sorry. I was just late. I had to come straight from the jet,” Spencer smiles from behind him. My parents' eyes light up, as Amelia and Johnny’s faces fall. I smile appreciatively at him as he hands the flowers he brought over to my parents and sits beside me, a comforting hand on my thigh.

“How’s work, Spencer?” My father asks, his undivided attention on Spencer.

“It’s good, strenuous but good. Our cases recently haven’t been too difficult- though there was one that had a puzzle I thought you might enjoy…”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I walk inside our house behind him, a million thoughts at once flowing through my head. We walk to the kitchen, he sits me down and takes off my shoes for me, a true gentleman.

He presses a kiss to my cheek and smiles. “You look beautiful.”

I just nod back, a small smile on my lips.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, turning to me, his hands resting on my waist.

“Fine,” I tiredly smile. “Just… you know, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“You know, saying that makes me worry more, right?:” He smiles softly, though we both know he’s serious.

“I just… I can’t believe she just showed up, like 7 years of not seeing her and she just shows up? Like it’s casual? And then asks for our help with her baby? Like she did nothing to me? Like she-” I stop myself, determined not to cry right now.

“Angel, it’s ok, let it out,” he soothes, a hand on my back, rubbing comforting circles.

“I don’t want to cry though, they’re not worth crying over.”

“Then how about we get ready for bed, yeah angel?” He offers, a tired look in his eyes. I nod and press a soft to his perfect lips. He smiles against my mouth, his hands finding the sides of my face. I run a hand through his hair. He pulls away softly, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I smile. “Thank you for coming, my knight in shining armour.”

“I enjoyed it. Watching your father fail to solve a simple puzzle was amusing.” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eye as I roll my eyes.

“We’re not all geniuses,” I remind him.

“You are.”

“And how am I a genius?” I chuckle.

“You’re dating me, you clearly have superior taste and intelligence,” he says matter-of-factly. I gigle at his antics and kiss him again. He pulls away and grabs my hand, leading me into our room. We both opt out of brushing our teeth and washing our faces, a makeup wipe sufficing for removing my makeup. He pulls me into bed with him, and finally, after a long week, I finally lie down in bed with him, his arms around me in a bear-hug of sorts. This is heaven. He’s my knight in shining armour. Thank God for Dr. Spencer Reid.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #bau imagine #bau team #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #criminal minds imagine

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sargeantposting · 1 year ago

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A Logan Sargeant Primer: Part I (2000 - 2015)

Logan grows up in a ritzy suburb of Fort Lauderdale called Lighthouse Point with his parents and his older brother, Dalton.

The Sargeants don't have a deep motorsport history. Dalton and Logan get their first go-karts for Christmas in 2006, a gift from their father after their mother refuses to let her children ride dirt bikes anymore. Logan tells the NYT that:

“No one in the family was really even that much into racing. We just picked it up as a hobby, something to do on the weekend.”

The two brothers get more serious as the years go by-- within a few years, they're racing competitively. They both do well. Logan finishes in third place in only his first year of racing, and wins two titles in his second.

Unfortunately, they figure out fairly quickly that there isn’t much more room to advance in American karting:

My older brother, Dalton, and I had been racing for a few years, and it had gotten to the point where we were asking around about where the next best level of competition was, and everybody was saying the same thing…. It was always Europe, Europe, Europe, Europe. To the point where my parents really started to think about it. At first it was just this idea, like Maybe we’ll move to Europe, who knows. I was just a kid overhearing stuff, so I didn’t know how serious the conversation must have been until this day I’ll never forget.

The conversation gets serious in 2012, when Logan’s dad, Daniel, asks the two if they want to move to Switzerland:

It was summer, and we were out to lunch. It was me, my dad, and Dalton. [...] So we’re at this restaurant, right? Chowing down on burgers (my favorite), and my dad gets to asking us about racing. Finally, he’s like, “What do you guys think? Do you really want to race in Europe? Are you 100% sure about this?” Me being 11 and naive, I was like, “Yeah sure.” Looking back on it, I think I was lucky I was that young and that I didn’t really know what I was signing up for. All the different ways it could change my life, the level of sacrifice it would require from my whole family. Because if I had known, I don’t know if I would’ve made the same decision so easily. It all happened fast, like in the movies. One minute, it’s Christmas, I’m six, and me and Dalton are yelling at the top of our lungs, excited about the two karts sitting in the driveway, pointed diagonally at each other like in a magazine. Next minute, I’m 11 and Dalton’s 14. We’re sitting at the table eating lunch with my dad, and it’s decided — our family’s moving to Europe.

When Logan tells the same story in GQ in 2023, he says:

I was always just going with the flow. For me it was just: sure.

The Sergeant family leaves for Switzerland just as Logan finishes up fifth grade. While Logan always talks about the family move to Switzerland in the context of his parents making sacrifices for his career, it's a little more complicated than that.

GQ’s profile steps around the subject, briefly mentioning that “in addition to the racing opportunities, [Logan’s] Dad had business there.” Unfortunately, business would be an understatement.

At the time, Logan’s dad, Daniel, worked for the family business– an asphalt trading and shipping company named Sergeant Marine. One of the driving forces behind Sergeant Marine’s success would be Daniel’s older brother, Harry.

When Logan’s detractors mention his family’s connections to Trump, they’re usually referencing Harry. The NYT describes his billionaire uncle as “a former [Top Gun] fighter pilot and onetime finance chair of Florida’s Republican Party who has been sued by the brother-in-law of King Abdullah II of Jordan and whose name turned up, tangentially, in the 2020 impeachment of former President Donald J. Trump. (Harry was not accused of any wrongdoing.)”

Harry would leave the company around the time Daniel moved his family to Switzerland. According to The Florida Phoenix, “The entire family was embroiled in a long-running bitter series of lawsuits that ended with a 2015 bankruptcy settlement. Harry III walked away with a cool $56-million. In return he gave up any claim to ownership of Sargeant Marine and other family companies. There were 14 different lawsuits in several states in addition to the bankruptcy. The lawsuits produced salacious testimony that could only arise in a vicious dispute between millionaires. Harry III accused his brother Daniel of spending millions on his sons’ pursuits of race car driving and other ventures. Meanwhile, Daniel accused Sargeant III of being a spendthrift on things such as a $7.5-million mansion, private jets and exotic cars.”

Logan with his dad.

It would, somehow, get worse:

Oil and asphalt mogul Harry Sargeant III claims that industrial design plans along with recordings of "private consensual relations" were purloined from his private email account and traded off to a corporate intelligence agent as part of a years-long smear campaign against him spearheaded by his brother. Reigniting a long-running saga of brother-against-brother litigation, Harry Sargeant III claims that hundreds of pages of business records, personal discussions and "extremely sensitive videos and photographs" were illegally obtained from his email account. The material was used as currency for information-bartering between his brother Daniel Sargeant and a corporate intelligence chief at the nonparty legal service firm Burford, the lawsuit alleges. Harry is demanding damages for alleged invasion of privacy on the part of Daniel. The brothers had in years past worked together on managing the Sargeant family's global oil and asphalt empire, before intra-family disputes began to tear them apart. [...] The lawsuit claims the Burford investigator, a former corporate attorney, knows Harry well. According to the court documents, the investigator for years worked as an enforcement agent on a $28 million judgment secured against Harry by the king of Jordan's brother-in-law Mohammad Al-Saleh, who accused Harry of cutting him out of a deal to distribute oil to troops in the Iraq War. [...] Harry claims brother Daniel gave the corporate intelligence agent the treasure trove of Harry's emails in exchange for inside information that would help the Sargeant family's asphalt company Latin American Investments in a separate multimillion-dollar legal dispute. Harry's underlying email account ran on a server of the family company Sargeant Marine. When he was ousted from the Sargeant empire, Harry had been told that the account was cut off at the root and all information in it had been destroyed, the lawsuit says. The lifted emails were instead provided to an "untold number of people" inside and outside of the family businesses in 2016, the lawsuit claims.

The information that Daniel traded his brother’s sex tape for would end up being useless. Daniel is currently out a $5 million bond and awaiting sentencing for the foreign bribery and money laundering charges he pled guilty to back in 2019. After bribing officials in three South American countries to secure asphalt contracts, the Department of Justice ended up making an example of the company– and Daniel– for violating the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act.

While Logan cites his career as a big reason for the family move, it appears that Sargeant Marine had conveniently made shell companies in Switzerland to aid in their illegal business dealings that same year.

Logan, blissfully unaware of any drama, tries to make the most of the big move. They move to Lugano, Switzerland– Dalton and Logan go to the American School on weekdays and race on the weekends in the European junior circuit, bouncing them between Italy, Switzerland and Britain. In GQ, Logan says:

“I definitely felt like school was a lot more challenging than in Florida,” he recalled. “And we were missing a lot of school, for sure, but that’s part of it with racing. It is what it is.”

Logan loves Switzerland. In his Players’ Tribune article, he says:

We moved into a three-bedroom apartment. It was me, my parents, Dalton, and our dog Roxy, the world traveler. Big difference from Florida. We had a whole new life. I loved Switzerland. I had a lot of good friends at my school there. I can’t explain it, but I just felt more a part of things. Me and my friends were big Chelsea fans, and we’d be hanging out, playing soccer all the time. We played Call of Duty like every other kid in the world.

However… Logan is the only one. Daniel is out doing shady asphalt deals around the world and suing his brother. Dalton moves back to Florida after a year-and-a-half. Their mother follows soon after that. Logan ends up living alone at the school:

Dalton was my older brother, so for as far back as I can remember, I was chasing him. Man, we fought all the time. Every race, we were up against all these other kids, but he was always the one I was really trying to beat. But the thing is, when you’re a kid you miss things. You just can’t see everything so clearly. Like, for instance, being a bit older than me, I think he felt the shift more strongly when we moved, but I didn’t know it. He stayed in Switzerland for a year and a half, did some European karting, and started testing Formula cars. Then one day he just decided he wanted to go home and race in America. I won’t lie, that was a shock at the time. But I get it more now. Making that big life change was hard on my mom, too. Just think, you’re living in this brand new place, don’t have many friends. Me and Dalton were at school all day. My dad was traveling all over the place with work, so he was hardly there. The reality is, she was on her own a lot. So she ended up going back to Florida, too. For about a year and a half after that, it was just me. I was living at the school during that time.

When talking about how his mom moved back to Florida while Logan was living alone in Europe as a teenager, he told the Players’ Tribune that:

Looking back on everything, I just see all the sacrifices they made, and it means so much. No matter what they were going through, my family always pushed me to keep going. I feel like that was probably the hardest for my mom, especially. She means the world to me. She’s a bit of a worrier too, and overthinks. I think I get that from her. She’s always been the person I could go to when I was doubting myself. So I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for her to encourage me to keep going, when I know she probably wanted our family to be together. I’m really grateful, not only that they believed in me that much, to move our entire family, but that they took my passion for driving seriously enough not to let me give it all up.

While Logan’s personal life may be troubled, his karting career is doing exceptionally well. In 2014, he wins the prestigious SuperNats18 in Vegas:

Infinity Sports Management, Facebook - SARGEANT DOMINATES IN LAS VEGAS. Logan Sargeant produced a stunning display last weekend in the TAG Junior category at the Supernationals race in Las Vegas. After finishing runner up in the race in 2013 Logan was eager to go one better this year and bring home the winners trophy. Although Logan got pipped in qualifying he still managed to win every heat ensuring he would start from pole position for the final on Sunday. From there he kept the lead and came home 5.6 seconds clear of the second driver. With this win in TAG Junior Logan become the first driver ever to win the TAG Cadet and TAG Junior categories at the Supernationals race.

2015 manages to be even more exceptional. Logan starts the season by being the first North American driver to win a WSK event by winning the WSK Champions Cup in La Conca, Italy.

Logan with his mother after winning the WSK Champions Cup.

The season reaches its peak with Logan becomes the first American to win an FIA Karting World Championship, the top junior series, since Lake Speed in 1978.

He gets to go to the FIA Awards:

Logan: And I couldn’t thank my mechanic enough. And also my parents, uh, they really helped me to be able to win the world championship and it’s just an amazing feeling. Interviewer: I mean, did you, did you, what did you do when you found out you won? Did you call your friends at home? Did you phone your grandpa? What did you get up to? Logan: Uh, no, I just gave my mom and dad a really big hug. Interviewer: Is it still sinking in now? Logan: Yeah, it’s, it’s a really emotional thing. [...] Interviewer: Tell me about when you were a little bit younger than you are now. You’re only 14 now. But why racing, why, why is this so important to you? Logan: Um, well, my dad bought me a, a racing kart when I was five years old and we started from there. We thought it would just be like a little hobby and, uh, it ended up becoming like a professional thing we did. So. Interviewer: So, so was there a moment when you, when you or your dad just thought ‘Wow, I’m quick. I can do this’? Logan: Um, well, not really. We just kept progressing and then, um, when we, when we decided to come to Europe to race, um, we moved to Switzerland and from then on we were just, uh, going to school, I started going to school in Switzerland. And, yeah, and then we just kept going and then ended up like this. Interviewer: Do you have any other hobbies? Can you fit anything else in? Logan: Um, well, other than school it’s really hard. But when I get my breaks and I go back to Florida for, um, I like to go fishing a lot and, yeah, that’s what I do. Mostly.

When interviewed after his win, Logan tells kart360 that:

Moving away from home is a very hard thing in your own personal life. You lose all of your best friends. You don’t have your "home" and you have to adapt to a different culture. It is hard to move to a country that speaks a different language than what you know, but racing is so important to me that I stuck through it and kept on going.

Logan clearly struggles on a personal level. He discusses his feelings in his Players’ Tribune article, saying:

Coming up racing as a kid isn’t easy. That’s the most honest way I can put it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said to myself, I’m done. I’m ready to come home. I’m glad I didn’t, but there were plenty of times when I wanted to. I remember one big time was the summer right after Dalton went back. We took this trip to the Bahamas with some of our extended family and friends. We were on the water, and everything was feeling like old times. And I think I just had this pit in the bottom of my stomach, like dreading going back. There was a night when I went to my mom, and I was like, “I’m just ready to come home.” I remember her asking me more questions about what I was feeling. I don’t even remember what I said, to be honest. I just remember that she didn’t tell me what to do. She left it completely up to me. My dad used to always say, “If you put in the work now, it’ll pay off eventually — it’ll be worth it.” And he kind of reminded me of that on that trip too. It’ll be worth it. Those four little words … that’s what kept me going. After that I sucked it up, went back to Switzerland, put my head down, and I went for it."

When Logan makes the jump to single seaters the next year, his parents rent him an apartment to live in by himself in London. The only time he’ll spend more than a few weeks in the US since he was a 12-year old would be during COVID.

But Logan’s time in single seaters will be for the next installment.

tumblr

Logan through the years.

#logan sargeant #for dori who inspired me to post this <3 #i literally cant look at it anymore or add any more photos or videos or it crashes lol #but i reserve the right to go back and edit this tomorrow lmao

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year ago

Note

I read the post where you answered why you didn’t like Malleus and remembered that you placed Leona really highly on your favs list, and Leona is my favorite so do you mind me asking why do you like Leona?

[My TWST character tier list is here.]

[Anon is also referencing this Malleus post.]

THERE’S A REASON WHY L*ONA IS IN “Unfortunately Enjoy” TIER 😭 I think for like... over a year (2020-2021)? Probably closer to 1.5 years?? I really disliked him and swore up and down that I'd "never in my life simp for the fake cat". This was largely in part due to book 2, which to this day I believe did Leona a HUGE disservice and made him look very unintelligent and uninteresting. Then I was drip fed new Leona content as it steadily came out (vignettes, voice lines, event stories, his return in book 6) and my opinion of him vastly improved. Book 2 was just a really bad introduction to him and it greatly soured my first impressions. sjfyofqebfeiafns B-But now I'm too embarrassed to openly declare, "Yeah, I like a sad muscular l*on man. So what?" Some would say that's tsundere behavior... BUT I SAY I'M COMPLETELY JUSTIFIED FOR ACTING THIS WAY BECAUSE IT ISN'T EASY TO CONFESS WITH YOUR WHOLE CHEST THAT YOU LIKE KINGSCHOLAR OF ALL TWST CHARACTERS

... Anyway! For a much more expanded explanation, I'd recommend this post! It already states a lot of my thoughts, and I don't want to repeat them in yet another lengthy lion-related post. What I'll do instead is summarize the key points for you, plus add some commentary about Leona and Malleus at the end.

Admittedly, he is pretty. VERY pretty. I'm saying this as someone who normally really dislikes hair longer than shoulder length, the "wild"/bad boy aesthetic, and kemonomimi. Leona breaks ALL the rules and still somehow manages to wear everything and anything well because of his sheer confidence and natural grace. His physical features are also very striking... The sharp bright green eyes, the small waist and large chest (there's NO reason why he HAD to be built like that), his stupid smirk, etc.

His pettiness and sarcasm. Leona has, hands down, some of the funniest lines 🤡 I love that he has the balls to speak callously to everyone, including fellow dorm leaders and royalty. His best moments, however, are when he whips out the sarcasm on statements which are so patently untrue--like when he says he is a 'delicate prince' and a 'lost child', both moments from book 6. It's also hilarious whenever Leona speaks in a formal way, showing that he does have the education and the knowledge of how a prince should present himself, but just actively chooses to not make the effort and only does so mockingly or when social grace calls for it.

HIS BIG BRAIN FOLDS, HOLY COW (err, book 2 aside). Leona works smarter, not harder!! He's always one step ahead of everyone else, even if he appears sleepy or disinterested at the time. He figured out the trick behind the "indestructible" golden contracts, he sussed out Jamil WAY before book 4 ever came out (saying that Jamil has "eyes that always glare" and implying that Jamil poses a threat to Kalim's life; this is from Jamil's School Uniform vignette), he takes what he learns in textbooks and so easily translates it to real-world experiences (ie advising the first years on how to more efficiently mine magestones in Vargas Camp), etc. Additionally, Leona knows when to step in and when to be hands off. It's not done out of cowardice or laziness, but rather because he's thinking strategically. For example, he could have resisted capture at the hands of the Ferrymen, but he didn't because it would be smarter to just go with them willingly. It saves everyone a lot of time and energy, and it’s this kind of intelligent thinking that makes Leona really stand out.

He knows how to lead. There are many different types of beastmen, each with own beliefs, values, and traditions that are unique to their own group. As a result, it is very difficult to unify all beastmen within the Sunset Savanna under one rule. Guess who doesn't have this problem? THAT'S RIGHT, IT'S LEONA. There's a variety of beastmen in Savanaclaw, and he effortlessly rules over them and commands their respect.

He actively thinks about how to improve the Sunset Savanna. Leona's ideas are not always the best (like, yeah, you could introduce new technology to the country but expect significant social pushback from the people, who prioritize living in harmony with nature). However, I can really appreciate that he did not entirely turn his back on the people who feared his powers and talked him down. I think he eventually realized the flaws in his way of thinking and actively chose an energy and mining lab internship in hopes of researching ways to slowly implement changes that will benefit the Sunset Savanna while also remaining respectful of the people's beliefs. He is concerned about Falena's lax way of ruling and consistently brings up ideas in various voice lines about how they can improve the Sunset Savanna and its relationships with other countries and tourists. In spite of everything he went through, Leona never wants to hurt those who hurt him with their comments and comparisons to his elder brother. He does not ever want to tear down the system that kicked him down again and again, only wants to challenge it by proving his own merits and the merits of the other downtrodden that he leads.

As much as he wants to deny it, he cares about his underclassmen and goes out of his way to help them. There are sooo many examples of this that it cannot possibly fit in one bullet point. (I would really recommend reading the elongated post linked above, as I go into more detail on this.) Suffice to say, Leona has been shown guiding, instructing, and mentoring many other characters including, but not limited to: Epel, Ruggie, Jack, Jamil, and various Savanaclaw mob students. This really hits me in the heart because I love reliable big brother characters 😭 EVEN THOUGH LEONA IS TECHNICALLY A YOUNGER BROTHER...

He understands his strengths—and he understands others' strengths too. This man is fully aware of his magical might and powerful presence. He uses every last bit of it to full effect and to attain his goals, whatever those may be. One of my favorite uses has to be In Fairy Gala!! He distracted some pixies by simply demanding water and their attention so his partners in crime could escape—and what’s more, this was a plan he came up with on the spot because their mission was being jeopardized by unforeseen events. Leona is also good about pinpointing people’s best attributes and then helping them hone it. This happens a lot during club practice, bur it also occurs in book 6 between him and Jamil. Speaking of…

THAT WHOLE BOOK 6 CONVERSATION WITH JAMIL DESERVES ITS OWN BULLET POINT. This part was peak mentor mode Leona 😭 Sure, maybe he wasn’t the kindest with his wording, but I felt this was the wake up call Jamil needed to hear. What really got me though was the part where Leona tells Jamil there’s still hope for him… “unlike me”. (I believe this part was translated differently in EN to make Leona’s ego sound more inflated (ie “I’m not like you”) which saddens me immensely.) It paints the image that Leona is still struggling to believe his efforts will amount to anything and that he believes more in his juniors than in himself :(( (which informs my headcanon that Leona mentors younger students so that they can have the bright future he doesn’t think he can have for himself).

Emotional complexity. When you get down to it, what started off as a very basic story of jealousy and inferiority complex actually resulted in a deeply flawed, traumatized, and scarred individual who continues to doubt and put himself down but is slowly recovering. Leona is smart and charismatic—he is everything a leader should be, but he doesn’t truly see his own worth. (Ironically, the only people who do are the ones who look up to him and follow him.) And now… Leona’s actually got his eyes set on graduating! He has his internship plans set! I think he’s made such big strides since book 2, and it’s been so rewarding seeing him regain his willingness to try and succeed return to him.

Looking back on it, it’s so ironic how things ended up working out. Initially, I was totally on Lilia’s side when he insulted Leona and said he would never be the kind of leader Malleus is. Now I’m realizing how Leona does many of the things I don’t see Malleus doing (despite Lilia claiming Malleus is more fit to be king than Leona is).

Malleus isn’t harming his people by any means, but it’s more like he’s… stagnant? Complacent? He’s satisfied with the status quo and is comfortable resting on his laurels. And because of that, Malleus doesn’t really seem to consider what he, as a leader, can do for others, be it for his dorm members or doe his country. (Part of this is also how isolated and opposed to change Briar Valley is, of course! That kind of culture definitely shapes Malleus’s thinking.) He tends to avoid situations which involve navigating social complexities rather than dealing with them himself. Think of Ghost Marriage, when Sebek proposes in his place. Think of Fairy Gala, when Silver is the one that ultimately resolves the conflict between the diurnal fae (who have historically not been friendly with nocturnal fae) and NRC. Malleus is so sheltered that has not truly been put in situations where he has to make tough decisions or where he has been challenged. He has never had to claw and scream and beg for people to see his worth.

Leona has been through that emotional wringer, and though he’s been hurt so badly, he still came out the other side. In running from the shadow of his family—of his older brother—Leona found solace in this new kingdom, Savanaclaw. It’s a place to build himself up, to stew over the ideas he has that have yet to be realized, all with a safe mental distance from home. It’s through the many hardships he has experienced that has refined his wit and given it a place to practice, to be used.

When it comes down to it, Leona and Malleus are two sides of the same coin. Both arrogant princes, the second born and crown prince, respectively, wishing for the other’s circumstances. Leona desperately wants that respect and recognition that Malleus has. Malleus longs for the intimacy and camaraderie that Leona is so easily able to cultivate and command. Leona has been forced to adapt, to learn, to grow from his scars. Malleus struggles with the concept of change (understandable, given his background) and actively denies reality if he finds the truth to be unpleasant. He’s not used to facing dilemmas that cannot be solved with magical strength, and has not ever been challenged in such a way. Malleus doesn’t know how to deal with that, which is partly why be panics and loses himself to emotions in book 7. (By the end of it, I’m sure he’ll be given the chance to see the error of his ways though 💦 or at least I hope he does??)

Their characters are very different, and that’s not a bad thing!! If anything, it makes their dynamic so interesting to observe and it offers varying interpretations of the same “prince” trope. I definitely know which of the two I prefer 🤡

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daechwitatamic · 1 year ago

Text

Vice;Grip || chapter 4 || chs

(banner by @itaeewon)

Vice;Grip (masterpost) NSFW - minors DNI Genre: angst smut fluff, fuckbuddies!au Summary: Make it not hurt, you could have asked him. Or, at least, make it hurt in a way I choose. A/N: infinite thank you's to @sailoryooons and @eoieopda for beta-ing!!

Warnings: Frequent depictions of depression, depressive episodes, panic attacks, and substance abuse (alcohol, weed, and pills referenced). PLEASE know that these characters’ relationships with drugs and alcohol are not healthy and should not be emulated. If these topics are triggering to you, please consider sitting this one out.

Section Specific Warnings: language, recreational drinking, depiction of a panic attack, there is a quick moment where you can infer that reader thinks vernon might be actively su*cidal but that is not the case and this is not outright stated, nip stim, dirty talk, piv sex, reader has a high fever but no specific illness is mentioned, a (verbal) fight with some yelling

wc: 6700

Playlist: you can call me in the middle of the night / you can leave before i wake up in the morning / and it could feel so wrong / but i'll still hold on

5 months ago

Five texts went unanswered.

I’m sorry.

I was so fucked up, I wasn’t saying what I meant.

Call me so I can explain.

I’m really sorry.

Please, Vernon.

Each time, they delivered, but no response came. You thought you might feel better if he told you to go away. The silence felt too open, like nothing was settled. Like maybe you just hadn’t said the right thing yet. Like maybe you could - or should - keep trying.

Four weeks passed; you tried not to let it drown you, tried to tread above the rising water of the situation. You swam through guilt, your own anger, guilt again. The knowledge of what had upset him nibbled at your toes like fish you couldn’t see in the murky depths. You tried to pretend it wasn’t there, that it was only seaweed underfoot.

You tried to reason with yourself; you hadn’t done anything that bad. He’d been upset because you’d implied he’d get bored of you someday - even though of course he would - and he thought… you didn’t know, he thought that was an attack on his character?

(You knew that wasn’t why he was mad.)

Or, because you’d implied that he would leave, when you were the one who’d gone silent before? That was valid, you thought. You had been the one to make him chase, when your grey days swallowed you up.

(You knew that wasn’t the whole truth, either.)

You kicked at the fish, kept swimming on.

Three times, you found yourself on the brink of coming clean to Chan. The first time, it had almost escaped from your mouth, prompted by nothing but your own need to hear someone absolve you; you wanted to tell Chan I think I hurt him, so he could say, it doesn’t sound like it’s your fault.

Chan didn’t lie to you, though, even when you wanted him to. He wouldn’t tell you it wasn’t your fault, because it was. So, you tucked the words back in, zipped them up safely.

The next time, he’d asked - “You still… with that guy?” He’d made a vague hand motion that must have meant still seeing, or still sleeping with.

I messed it up again.

I think I liked him too much.

“It’s been like a month,” you said lightly, like it was no big deal. “We’ve been busy.”

His sideways look was scalding. Chan didn’t lie to you; Chan was used to you lying to him, knew all the signs.

He let it go anyway.

Maybe he knew those signs, too. Maybe he knew without you telling him that you’d let the bunny rabbit instincts win - that you’d hid, scared, the second your fragile, broken brain told you to.

The third time, you almost told him all of it, even that it was Vernon. Chan was having dinner at your apartment, helping you clean up after, when his phone buzzed on the table.

“Hey, hyung,” he’d answered, tilting his head to grip the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he ran water in the sink and started rinsing the plates. “Yeah, I’m in. I don’t know, probably in like twenty minutes? Fifteen if I make all the green lights.”

You listened absently as you picked up the rest of the table - napkins in the trash, utensils tight in one hand, now-empty wine glasses in the other.

“Oh,” Chan said, surprised. “Vernon, too? Nice. Should I stop for beer since there’ll be more of us?”

You dropped a wine glass. Chan helped you sweep, and then you ran the vacuum cleaner. Still, you kept finding errant pieces of glass for days. You carried them carefully to the garbage.

It felt fitting, that hearing his name had caused this.

Twice, you called and left voicemails.

Two days after the argument, you’d called on your lunch break. It had rang six times and then his voicemail picked up.

“Vernon… listen, I know I pissed you off. I’d really like the chance to explain myself when I’m not… you know. I didn’t say it how I meant it. Text me. Or call me, whichever.”

After the four weeks crept by and the rest of your texts went unanswered as well, you tried again.

It took almost a whole bottle of wine by yourself to work up the courage, and you hoped he wouldn’t hear the slur in your voice when you told him, “I don’t know why I’m even calling. It’s been a month. I hate that this is just… unresolved. I hate making people mad. I want to know that you know I’m sorry. I want to know that… well. I just… wish we were talking again. I don’t… I don’t know why I’m calling.”

You sat at the stool by your easel for the first time in years, tested your balance, tucked one foot underneath the way you used to. Your hands shook a little as you mixed a purple so dark it was probably actually just black. You covered the canvas, the color of nine at night in the summertime, and stared at it, watching it dry.

When you could, you switched brushes, used a rounder texture to form something that might pass as clouds along the mottled sky. Then, you painted a full moon; it cracked like an egg.

You liked this, you followed the idea, paintbrush hurrying to chase the inspiration, whites and yellows coloring in whatever it was that might leak from the moon like marrow.

The bottom half of the canvas became a moving, living ocean; the blues were eight at night in the summertime but they looked good together with the hour after. You finished with the moon’s reflective path, a jagged yellow streak that dipped and bobbed through the waves.

You walked to the bathroom and washed your brushes, leaving them somewhere to dry where the cat couldn’t mess with them. Then you went back to the canvas, staring at it from a few feet away, your hands on your hips.

You’d done it - you’d painted something you didn’t want to burn.

One painting, one tiny step back towards the life you’d lost - that you’d let yourself lose, that you’d definitively pushed away.

4 months ago

It rained for three days. You lit lamps during the day, suddenly craved soups even though it was the height of spring and the weather had been consistently warm for weeks. The rain just called for it.

It called for you to sleep, too, luring you into bed with a steady patter against the windows. You slept early, and deeply, the cat curled up near your head. The rain beat against the windows like a metronome, helped your heart rate steady, helped your thoughts slow and settle.

You slept deeply, the sounds of the rain pulling you under, and when you were startled awake a few hours in, it was with no concept of where or who you were.

Your phone was still vibrating, jarring; you scrambled to grab it from the nightstand and the cat scrambled out of the room.

Your mom, you thought wildly. Or Chan.

What else could it be, but an emergency? No one else called at three in the morning. Someone used to, but only on the weekend, and that person hadn’t answered you in over a month.

“H’lo?” you mumbled, eyes too blurry to see the screen. You closed them, pressed the phone tighter to your ear to hear better.

No one spoke, but you could hear breathing - ragged and unsteady.

“Hello?” you repeated, more clearly, starting to wake up a bit, starting to worry. You rubbed at your eyes, then pulled the phone away so you could see the name on the screen.

Of course it was him.

“Vernon?” you asked, like you didn’t believe the word on the screen, but you were met with only silence - even his breathing went quiet for a second, like hearing his name had caused him to hold it. Like he suddenly wasn’t sure he wanted you to know he was there.

You said his name again, like a question, and it sounded like maybe he tried to speak but the noise - choked and quick - faded quickly. Your heart started to race, and certainty settled into your bones: something was wrong.

“Hey,” you said, a little sharply, like maybe he needed to snap out of it. “Are you okay?”

Finally, a word. “Dunno,” he managed, his voice thick.

“I’m coming there,” you said, already throwing the blankets off your legs and staggering to your closet to pull at some sweatpants. “Don’t leave, okay?”

“No,” he protested, but the way he gasped the breath after it cemented what you already knew - he needed you.

Or, he needed someone, and you were someone, and you would have to do.

“I’m on my way. Stay there, okay? Wait for me.” You were hopping on one foot as you said this, pulling clothes and shoes on, frantically reaching around in the dark for things like deodorant and car keys.

When he didn’t answer, you stopped moving, stopped trying to find your things. When you spoke again, your voice came out softer, a gentle plea instead of sharp instruction. “Hansol,” you said, quiet. “Wait for me. Okay?”

He ended the call without promising.

You stayed tucked into the building’s doorframe until you saw the Uber pull up; the rain was coming down in sheets, and you had to run to the car, splashing through still water until you could slide into the backseat. Your feet were soaked.

You spent the first five minutes of the ride wiping rain out of your eyes and trying to wring out the ends of your sleeves; the fabric clung to your hands, wet and cold. Outside the car, the rain water ran down the windows and the windshield wipers ran on the fastest setting.

im on my way, okay?

[ ]

vernon you’re scaring me

When the car pulled to a stop, you jumped out as soon as it was safe, bolting through the rain a second time and letting yourself into the building with the code you knew by heart. You took the stairs two at a time, heart flying. You were at once both scared to death of what you’d find when you got there, and refusing to put the specific fear to words, refusing to consider that it could be an option.

“Where are you?” you called, as soon as you got his door open. The apartment was mostly unlit, but for the light above the sink, and a dim light from the direction of his bedroom. “Vernon?”

You were met with silence and you almost choked on your heart as it climbed up your throat. You slipped off your shoes and made your way inside, heading for his bedroom.

You almost threw up with relief when you found him sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. The light you saw came from his bathroom - the door was closed almost completely, but light spilled out through the crack.

“What’s wrong, what’s happening?” you asked, inching closer. His hands were clenched into fists and bent back at an angle, veins raised along his tensed forearms. His breath went in raspy and came out in huffs, too quick to be productive.

You were pretty sure you knew what this was. You knelt in front of him, ran your hands over his tensed-up arms once, and then nudged under his chin gently with your forefinger, urging him to lift up and look at you.

He let you, his eyes faraway.

“Panic attack?” you guessed quietly. He nodded once, trying to tuck his chin back down, to look away and hide from the shame of this moment being witnessed - being recognized.

“If I put on my breathing app, will you do it?” you asked.

The sound he made was almost like a laugh. “I’ll try,” he muttered.

You opened your phone and set the app up, placing it on the bed beside him, the light from the screen tinting him pink. You heard the familiar, soothing voice begin to recite the directions, and you rocked back on your heels.

“I’m going to your kitchen real quick,” you told him, putting your hands on his knees to push yourself to standing. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll do the breathing with you in a sec.”

You shivered once as you stood with his fridge open; you’d been in his kitchen plenty of times, but never really perused on your own. Your gaze moved over beer and energy drinks, finally landing on juice. You slapped the bottle on the counter and rummaged in the closest cabinets until you found a glass.

Returning to his bedroom, you could hear your breathing app intoning hold… two… three… four… exhale slowly… two… three… four. It was hard to tell if Vernon was following - his head was still tucked, but his hands clenched and unclenched, like he was trying to return circulation after they’d fallen asleep.

You waited patiently until the breathing cycle ended, then nudged the glass into his hand. When he took it, you sat gently next to him, watching silently until he drank some.

“Where are you at?” you asked, and then started to explain what you meant.

Vernon interrupted; he’d understood the first time.

He usually did.

“Better,” he said, then added, “Not, like, better. But, better. Still buzzing.”

You knew the feeling - you tended to get buzzing in your legs first, then hands, and then it would crawl up your arms and into your chest if you didn’t shake it. When the attack receded, you usually felt it leave your chest first and then work its way slowly back down your arms.

“What usually helps?” you asked. “Is the breathing cycle better, or grounding?”

“Grounding, probably,” he said.

“Start by drinking some juice,” you instructed. “Then, can you tell me five things you see?”

“It’s dark,” he grumbled, but he brought the glass to his lips as requested. You rolled your eyes at his sass and walked over to turn on the lamp he kept on his desk. It cast the room in yellow, all the raindrops on the window suddenly catching the light.

“Now do it,” you said, coming back to sit by him again.

You heard him take a breath. He was better already - hands unclenched now, breathing still a bit quick but not raspy or gasped. “It feels silly to do out loud.”

“I’ll do it, too,” you said. “I see your laptop, your lamp, your cell phone, your dresser, and your very old and embarrassing Blink-182 poster. Literally, Vernon, is it 2003?”

He laughed, closing his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re roasting me right now,” he said, voice still a little thin and breathy.

“Five things you see,” you reminded him firmly.

He huffed in mild irritation. “Hamper,” he recited, finally. “Shoes. Empty Red Bull can.”

You laughed.

“Cologne bottle,” he finished, then looked up at you. “Girl who came out at three in the morning, in the rain, after a month of not speaking, because she was worried about me.”

You spluttered. “I was not.”

He knocked his shoulder into yours playfully. “I have it in writing.”

You let out an indignant breath. “I should have let you suffer alone,” you muttered.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he admitted, then dutifully drank some more juice.

“Okay,” you said, remembering what you were doing. “Four things you can hear.”

He sighed. “Bossy girl,” he listed, and you whacked at his knee. “Rain. Aircon. Traffic outside.”

You finished the exercise together.

“Now how is it?” you asked, reaching to take his empty glass.

He flexed his hands in front of him. “Buzzing’s down to my hands,” he reported. “Think I’m past the worst.”

“How do you feel, otherwise?”

He grimaced. “Exhausted, honestly.”

You looked at the clock - it was after 4:30 in the morning, almost time for sunrise to begin.

“You should try and sleep more,” you said, starting to rise.

“Stay?” he asked, and you thought you heard a note of, well, panic in it. Like he was scared to be alone again.

Something inside you screamed and beat its fists against your insides, furious and terrified as it felt you melt into goo at his request. Something inside you knew that you were walking into a building on fire. But there was no way you’d stay outside, not now, not if he was in there.

“Of course,” you said, as if it was obvious, as if you stayed over all the time - as if this weren’t, in fact, a first.

He seemed to take in your appearance for the first time, the still-drying patches on your clothes, the goosebumps on your damp skin. “You’re cold,” he said, frowning, like you should have led with that as soon as you came in, handled your needs first.

“I’m okay,” you denied, but he rolled his eyes and leaned over the other side of his bed, coming up with a rumpled black hoodie.

“I promise it’s clean,” he said, a little sheepishly, and you pulled off your damp tshirt and tugged the hoodie over your head, instantly warmer and surrounded by his smell. He left for the bathroom, and when you heard the sink run and the telltale buzzing from his electric toothbrush, you got up and turned his lamp back off. When he emerged, you were under the blankets, huddled warm and cozy inside his hoodie.

When he climbed into bed, you draped yourself over him, a leg over his legs, an arm over his torso, your face pressing against his t-shirt. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you in, and you lay in silence for a while, listening to the rain, awash in relief that he was okay - that you two were okay, that he’d let you back in even after you’d fucked it up.

Just as you were starting to drift a little, you felt his chest move under you, and he said, quietly, “I’m sorry for making you come out in the storm. In the middle of the night, too.”

“Don’t,” you said, shaking your head but not lifting it up to look at him. Your words carried out into the dark of the room. “You can call me. You can call me when you need me. I don’t care if it’s late. I don’t care if it’s… a hurricane, or whatever.”

It was too honest. It was too close to the truth. You shivered in the dark again, and you felt him hold you tighter for a second, as if to chase the chill away.

He let the moment go, didn’t chase it down and shine a light on it. But you know he heard you - you think, probably, he heard the whole thing, all the parts you didn’t say.

You waited in silence again, let the moment go, let the rain wash this away, too. Then, you ventured, “I’m sorry for what I said to you, last month. Really.”

You felt him nod above you. “I know. It’s… it’s okay.”

Is it? you wondered. But you didn’t push it - because you were scared that his forgiveness was fragile and might shatter if pressed, because you’d already admitted something you weren’t sure you’d meant to tonight, because saying anything seemed wrong while you were between his arms with the rain serenading you both from outside.

You drifted off; you woke up with his hands on your skin beneath his hoodie. You sighed, eyes still closed, as he refamiliarized himself with your body. You breathed in deeply when his fingers brushed up your stomach and found your breasts, teased over your nipples so lightly that it almost tickled, made you shudder in place.

You felt his lips at the nape of your neck, and that made you shiver, too. He pressed kisses along the tops of your shoulder as he teased one peak and then the other, finally giving in to your tiny, needy noises and rolling both buds between firm fingers. You moaned, long, feeling it pulled from deep within you until he let go, soothing over the spots with warm palms.

“Missed that sound,” he murmured against your back, and you pressed back against him desperately, suddenly sure that if he wasn’t inside you this instant you would completely lose it. You reached backwards, grabbing at his hips, trying to pull him closer.

“Need you,” you whined, hating it but knowing it was true anyway, the need larger than the embarrassment. You could feel him pressing against your ass, too many layers between you, and you shifted against him, hoping to spur him into action.

He hummed, pleased, and slid a clever hand back down over your stomach and past the waistbands of your sweats and panties, groaning low in his throat when he found arousal pooling between your legs. He barely bothered to work you open, likely feeling the same desperation you were after the time apart. You felt him shimmy out of his shorts, then his hands back on your skin as he peeled away your bottoms as well.

You kicked them off of your ankles and inhaled as you felt him slide along your slit, teasing at your entrance. He kept one hand up your hoodie, pressed against your chest to hold you tight against him, as he pushed into your heat one inch at a time. You heard yourself make a sound you couldn’t name, somewhere close to a whine, as you felt each bit of him rub against your walls as they struggled to adjust.

“Fuck,” he breathed, mouth close to your neck. “Tighter than I remember.”

He bottomed out and stilled, that one hand still holding you tight against his body. You closed your eyes and felt the moment: his heart beating against your back, your own pulse thundering through your limbs, your pussy pulsing around him as it adjusted and fluttered, his breath warm and steady on your skin, his hands soothing and grounding as they held you tight, the rain still falling steadily outside. You stayed still, eyes closed, as he caressed your hips, your lower belly, your thighs, as he pressed chaste and feather-light kisses along your shoulder.

Finally, he shifted, fucking into you in small movements, barely withdrawing at all before tilting his hips to push back in. You rocked back against him, silently begging for more.

He pulled out almost completely, and then slid back in; the sound you let out bordered on a sob, your nerves alight and sizzling as he began repeating the motion, each stroke slow and long, unhurried, burying himself as completely as he could. You floated like this, completely enveloped by him, still wearing his hoodie, as he took his time with you, until you couldn’t bear it anymore.

“More, Vernon,” you begged, “please.”

“As you wish,” he teased, and used his knee to move yours, bending your leg and hooking it up around his to open you up more, to give himself more room as he set a quicker, steady pace. Relieved, you matched his strokes, half-tempted to roll over so you could kiss him, but not wanting to lose even a second of the delicious feeling of him stretching you, of the friction that made your eyes want to roll back and your toes curl up.

It took you completely by surprise when he began pistoning into you, holding you in place by your waist, and a gasp flew from your mouth, morphing into a series of moans and cries as his hips battered at yours. Even more so when he grabbed at your thigh and tugged, rolling you onto your back and readjusting himself over you, slipping right back in as you wrapped your legs around him and tried to pull him closer.

His pace slowed only marginally as he grabbed at your hands and raised them above your head. Bent close over you, you finally got what you’d wanted the whole time - his lips finally found yours and you kissed hungrily as he fucked you deep. Above your head, you felt your fingers curl against his, lacing together. You squeezed his fingers tight when you came, his name slipping from your lips as your legs shook and your world went white. Vernon came with a cry, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched as he emptied himself in your still-pulsing heat, and then collapsed next to you, both of you panting.

“Shower?” he asked, when he’d caught his breath.

You tilted your phone so you could see the time. “I should probably just go home,” you admitted. “I have work.” This realization hit you - you’d gotten maybe four and a half hours of sleep, and not even all at once. Thank god it was Friday and you only had one day to struggle through.

He nodded, understanding. After you dressed, he wandered after you like a shadow. “You around tomorrow night?” he asked, and you could hear the effort to sound off-handed.

“Yeah,” you said, eyes flicking to his for a second. “Yeah, I’ll be around.”

When your ride pulled up and you stepped outside, you shielded your eyes from how bright everything was in the early morning light after days of gloom and clouds. Around you, everything glistened and sparkled, still wet from the days of incessant rain, as if everything you could see had been washed clean.

3 months ago

hi :]

what’s wrong with your face?

are you insulting my smiley?

again i ask you: is it 2003?

im gonna ignore that. come over?

can’t, sorry. i’m sick

whats wrong with u?

should i start listing?

ha ha. girl stuff?

vernon!!!!

lmao i mean if its not that i figured youd just tell me whats wrong

i have a fever, you ass

It was true - you’d carried your comforter from your bed to your couch that morning and had barely moved since. The cat was on top of your legs and you didn’t have the strength or energy to move him. Through the day, your fever had risen; you hadn’t helped things by refusing to get up, which meant you were probably dehydrated. As Vernon texted you, you took mental inventory of how badly everything on your body hurt - your limbs, your hips, everything ached. The pain in your head was sharp and bloody, and you felt like you were sweltering even though your feet were ice cold.

You felt too miserable to even watch a show; instead, you looked around your living room absently. You were pretty sure you were seeing colors off to the side, hazy swatches of red and blue.

Well, you thought dryly, that’s not good.

Then, your hallucinations took form, because the couch was dipping under you and someone was placing a cool hand against your head. You closed your eyes, leaning into the touch just because the coolness felt nice.

“You need to drink something,” someone told you.

“I had the lemonade,” you said.

There was a pause. “I don’t… think there’s lemonade here. Hey - wake up and look at me.”

You blinked, and looked towards the voice. The world’s most beautiful man looked down at you, frowning.

“Wow,” you heard yourself. “You’re so handsome. What are you here for?”

He laughed. “I’m here to take care of you,” he said. “I’m bringing you water, okay?”

You frowned. “I don’t want water. My throat hurts. I want juice.”

There was another pause, and then the voice came again, from further away. “I’ll bring you juice, but you need to drink water now.”

Then he was back, snapping in front of your face. “Hey, look at me again. This is serious. Have you taken any medicine? I don’t want to give you double of something and overdose you.”

“I don’t think I’ve left the couch today,” you told him honestly.

“Okay,” he said, and you didn’t remember him moving or leaving but he was somehow pressing pills into your hand, waiting for you to place them on your tongue before handing you a plastic cup full of water.

“Drink all of it,” he instructed.

“You’re too pretty to be so bossy,” you grumbled around the mouthful of pills.

He waited until you drained the cup. “I’m going to go to the store,” he told you. “Can you think of anything else you need besides juice?”

You didn’t remember if you answered him, or even him leaving. You think you slept. When you woke, someone was rummaging around your kitchen.

“Chan?” you called, blearily.

Instead, Vernon poked his head around the corner of your kitchen, a grocery store bag hanging off his arm.

“Hey,” he said. “How do you feel?”

You blinked at him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what the fuck are you doing here?”

His smile widened. “Your fever must be down a little. You need anything? You still want juice?”

You just stared at him, bewildered. He finished putting away a few more things and then came back out to you, pressing a hand to your forehead.

“Definitely lower,” he said. “Do you have an actual thermometer? I couldn’t find it.”

“Yeah,” you said, still confused. “In my bathroom. Vernon, seriously, what’s going on?”

“Come on,” he said. “You should shower and put on clean pajamas and then maybe try to eat some of the soup I got.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think I can shower,” you admitted. “I don’t think I can stand up that long.”

He held out his hand. “I’ve got you. Just a quick rinse.”

He helped you off the couch and into the bathroom, where you sat on the closed toilet while he started the water and got it running warm, but not hot. You kept silent as he helped you undress, as he held your hand while you gingerly stepped over the bathtub’s lip, your legs aching.

“You okay?” he checked, once you were behind the shower curtain.

“Mhm.”

“Okay. I’m going in your room to get you clean clothes to put on.”

“Hurry.”

“I’m right outside. If you feel weird, just call me.”

You did okay, though, washing up and turning the water off on your own, reaching for the towel you kept on a hook. He came in when he heard the water change, and helped you dry off, his hands firm and his gaze gentle. Then he led you back to your bed, guiding you under the blankets.

“Do you think you could eat some soup?” he asked. “I bet you didn’t eat all day.”

You scrunched your nose. “You don’t have to cook for me.”

He shrugged. “It’s pre-made. I’ll heat some up.”

You tried to eat as much of the soup as you could, and then floated absently as Vernon cleaned up.

“Hey,” you said, struggling to sit up. “I don’t think I fed the cat tonight.”

“Tell me what to do,” he said, pushing on your shoulder to keep you from climbing out of bed.

“You can’t just- he’s particular - there’s a process -”

“Tell me the process, then,” Vernon said firmly.

Later, after he’d turned out all the lights, he came to the side of the bed and checked your temperature again - this time with your actual thermometer.

“I’m waking you up in three hours to take another fever-reducer,” he warned you, walking to set the thermometer down on your dresser.

“Okay,” you said, too tired to argue. You were already half-asleep as it was - you had no idea what time it was.

You barely registered it when he climbed into the bed next to you, just rolled over and buried your face in his chest, one arm reaching around his middle, already back under.

His alarm startled you both. You felt him pull away - you were sleeping in the same position, neither of you had moved - and then the alarm fell quiet.

“Medicine,” he said, starting to extract himself. You whined; you were comfy, and warm, and didn’t want him to leave.

“Don’t,” you whined. “Don’t leave.”

He laughed a little, a quiet huff of amusement. “I’m just going to the kitchen. Then I’ll be back.”

He watched you take another round of pills and drink half the water, leaving the glass on your nightstand. Then, as promised, he got right back in bed.

When you woke again, your bed was empty. And, impossibly, you felt both relief and disappointment. Then, from the living room, you heard a clatter and then a curse.

“Vernon?” you called.

Your bedroom door cracked open. Like a flash of lightning, the cat streaked into the room and under the bed.

“Sorry,” Vernon said from the doorway. “He was pissed that I wouldn’t let him in there with you. I wanted you to sleep. He was mutinying.”

You smiled despite yourself. “You didn’t go home?”

“Wanted to see how you were before I left,” he said. “You sound better. You look better, too - I mean, you looked really off yesterday. It was kind of scary.”

“I think I’m okay,” you said. “Okay enough that I can keep my fever down by myself. I shouldn’t have let it get that high yesterday, I should have stayed on top of it.”

He looked at you for a long time. Then, he clapped his hand against your doorframe, as if he’d made a decision. “Okay. I’ll go home, I guess. Just… let me know if it gets bad, okay? And eat something. I bought stuff for you yesterday - it’s all in the kitchen.”

“Thanks for doing that,” you said, a little sheepishly.

“It was nothing,” he promised.

After he left, you stayed in the bed, rolling onto your side so you could smell the blankets where he’d slept. It helped you feel safer, like you weren’t actually alone.

It occurred to you that you’d spent the night together twice in a row, now. The rules were breaking - the rules were changing.

Your head pounded, and so did your heart. Nothing had ever been this frightening in your life, you thought.

2 months ago

Vernon saw you as sunshine - not like it was your demeanor, because that wasn’t true. More like - something he needed without realizing he needed it, something he realized he needed only in its absence. Something that made things better and brighter, something that could sometimes be too bright. Something that made the grey days feel greyer in a can you understand happiness if you never feel sadness kind of way.

He tipped your head back to kiss you, caught your bottom lip between his teeth, rolled his hips into yours, watched your hands clench into fists in his sheets.

He forgot himself a little; or maybe he just gave in to something he’d been holding back for months - maybe even a year. Something cracked, marrow slipped out of him, sluiced into the rocky ocean below.

After, he held you close, whispered, “Don’t go home. Stay. Jagi, stay here.”

And, he had to give you credit - you were at least honest. You at least told him your truth, in your own way.

“I can’t,” you said, and he knew you, knew how you meant it. He didn’t argue or call you back when you dressed, when you left again, just how you’d done things almost every time over the last two years.

He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t want you, maybe even love you, and only have parts of you. It was too hard, it wasn’t fair. Two years, and he had nothing to show for it. Maybe he’d find someone, if he wasn’t spinning his wheels with you.

He saw you like sunshine. Something that was missed when it was gone. Something that couldn’t be forced to stay, something that didn’t come when it was called.

1 month ago

You could tell that something was different. You’d been around Vernon plenty when he was low - this was different.

“You’re being weird tonight,” you observed.

His eyes cut sideways at you. He’d never looked at you like that - this was another clue. Then his face went flat again.

“I’m not,” he said, and you frowned.

“You are,” you insisted. “What’s going on? What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem,” he said, tone hollow.

“I’m not playing this game with you, Vernon!” you said, temper flaring. “If there’s a problem, you’re going to have to use your words and tell me.”

“I said there’s no problem,” he repeated, cool and even. Something inside you snapped tight, painful. You could feel it all coming to a boil right before your eyes - the way the boundaries had been shifting, the way he’d called you jagi, the way he’d looked when you’d walked away. It terrified you, made you want to show your claws, and it was infuriating that he was icing you out when you were ready to draw blood.

“Vernon!” you cried. “I cannot deal with this little apathy game anymore! I need you to engage here. I need you to care about something, and not just give me this expressionless, emotionless -”

“Care about something?” he thundered, wheeling on you. It startled you into silence. “That’s bullshit. Because I have been caring about you way more than I should, for ages now, and look what fucking good it’s done for me.”

Stunned, you blinked at him. Your heart pounded painfully, and your thoughts felt staticky and unclear. You needed to get away from him; you needed to process this in silence.

Finally, you spoke, your voice coming out tiny. “I’m going home.”

Vernon rolled his eyes, slapped his hand down to grab at his phone. “I’ll take you.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want you to.”

He ignored this, picking up his keys. “I said I’ll take you. It’s fine.”

You shouldn’t have followed him to the car. You shouldn’t have assumed he’d be mad for a few weeks and then get over it again, just like you two had done more than once now.

He drove you in silence, his face coming in fragmented pieces as he passed under streetlights. You were watching him, silently, when he finally spoke again.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he said, still perfectly even.

Tears sprang to your eyes before you’d even processed the sentence, something inside you reacting before your brain really knew what you were reacting to.

“What?” you asked. “Why?”

You knew why.

He just kept driving.

“Pull over,” you demanded, suddenly furious, suddenly terrified, suddenly realizing you were losing him, right now, in real time.

He ignored you, didn’t even glance over at you.

“Vernon, I want to talk about this, pull over!” you cried, leaning forward in your seat, the seat belt tightening on your shoulder. “Pull over!”

Eventually, he listened, flicking on his turn signal and slowing as the car bumped off the pavement and onto the dirt shoulder.

“What?” he asked flatly, finally turning to face you.

“I asked why,” you said, heat laced through your voice.

He shook his head. “I’ve wasted two years with you -”

“Wasted?” you echoed, feeling the word like a punch to the gut. You felt like you couldn’t inhale.

“Well?” he asked, as if to say, well, wasn’t it?

“Fuck you, Vernon,” you spat.

“Fuck me is right!” he yelled, loud in the enclosed space of the sedan. “What are we doing? Just fucking, for eternity?”

You blinked at him. “You never asked me for anything else!”

“I tried,” he growled.

“Like hell you tried!”

“I did,” he asserted. “You ran, scared, every time.”

“Of course I was scared,” you snapped, because you couldn’t deny that one for a second. Your voice comes out choked. “I was right to be scared, and you know it!”

“Why?” he asked, the question falling between you, a landmine.

“Because,” you said seriously, the first tear finally falling. “This only ends one way.”

His jaw clenched, and he looked away from you, out the windshield again. Then, he clicked on his turn signal again, shifted the car back into drive, and pulled back onto the highway.

“Yeah,” he said flatly, as the car met even pavement again. “You’re making sure of that, aren’t you?”

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thank you so much for reading! one chapter left to go!

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filmbyjy · 1 year ago

Text

MINESTREAM

SYPNOSIS > Wanting to start a new stream series with his best friends, Jay had a bright idea of playing some simple Minecraft with them. Everything was normal, until he realises there is another person in the call with them. He quickly learns that it was ni-ki’s older sister, (name). Watch how streaming a simple game of Minecraft can dig up some interesting feelings between the main leads.

TWENTY-SIX – I’m a werewolf

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

a/n: idk if anybody watches Chinese dramas but there was one scene from that drama that I referenced. something about how the guy can’t contain himself and he is a werewolf, leading them to- ehem you know🤠

WARNINGS: just slightly suggestive🤏🏼 not that much though.

jake and sunghoon were crazy. definitely drunk. there was no way in hell were they telling you to actually sleep in the same bed as jay. right? you looked down at your bed. you had to change the sheets because only god knows what actually happened on your bed between heeseung and yvet-

oh my god, speaking off. you had to speak to her about this. how could she just do that with heeseung on the bed, drunk. while you didn’t mind your two best friends for finally getting it on after years of chasing each other. but your bed. you wanted to cry in horror and terror, you didn’t walk in on them but it felt like it.

you shot a quick text and attached a picture of the panties on your bed to Yvette. she surprisingly answers quick and she calls you too.

“babe, that’s not my panties.”

“but jake and sunghoon saw you and heeseung.” there was a clear whine and pout to your voice.

“me and heeseung did talk upstairs but we didn’t do anything. does the panties at least look clean?”

“I don’t want to know.”

“were they just laid nicely on the bed?”

“uh, yeah.”

“then it’s definitely not used. I got them for you, there should a matching set of bra somewhere on your bed.”

“WHY WOULD YOU.”

“to tell you to fuck jay.”

“no! we’re just friends.”

“for now. anyways, since those panties fooled you into thinking something happened between me and heeseung on your bed, why don’t you go sleep in jay’s bed.” you could almost hear the tease laced with Yvette’s tone.

“how about no?”

“how about yes because I will come over to your house right now and lock you in jay’s room.”

“you don’t even know which one is his room!”

“I think it’s obvious which one is it. the multiple guitars on display?”

‘damn, should’ve thought about that factor.’ you thought.

“w-well…”

“no stuttering, get in there and pretend that I fucked heeseung on your bed right now then go and ask Jay if you could share a bed together. oh and wear those cute underwear set when you go to bed with jay.” Yvette teases.

you sighed, “whatever.” you end the call. you looked down at the set. shivers down your spine as you thought of the various scenarios that could happen.

very descriptive things that makes your heart race…

things even I as the writer cannot describe because we are keeping it kid friendly :)

no, I don’t think i should think about this.

your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a knock and when you turned around, jay pops his head by the door. “umm, hey.”

“hi.”

you could tell he was hesitant, almost shy to ask. “do you wanna…uh, sleep in my room?” he finally asks.

it went dead silent before he speaks up again, “you don’t have to if you don’t want-”

“umm, I’ll come over to your room in a minute. I just need to change into my pyjamas.”

jay hums and shuts your bedroom door. just as the door clicks, you felt your heart racing a million times worse. you breathed in and out and then grabbed your favourite pyjamas, a satin dark blue set. not a lingerie set, an actual long pants pyjama set.

after changing into it, you had looked into the mirror. you realise it was actually quite a tight fit. you had debated on actually wearing a singlet but just decided to not do it. you were bare. which, I shall not explain any further. you felt comfortable without anything under the pyjamas. you weren’t sure if this would do anything but whatever, this was your home too.

you had knocked on jay’s bedroom door. when you heard him say ‘come in’, you had peaked your head inside. jay had laid down a pillow and a thin mattress liner onto the ground.

“are you sleeping on the ground?”

“yeah, I wouldn’t want to make your uncomfortable.”

“you wouldn’t do that…” silence.

you could almost see the gears turning in jay’s head trying to figure something out that you weren’t quite sure. “u-umm, why don’t you take the other side. there is more than enough space for the both of us on the bed.” you quickly suggested.

“are you sure?” jay tilts his head.

“yeah, umm.” you had grabbed a bolster and placed it in the middle, creating a separation between the bed. “here. don’t cross the line.”

jay snorts, “okay, don’t worry. I won’t cross the line. I’m not a werewolf like jake who would pounce at you while you’re asleep.”

“he does that?”

“if he sleeps in the same bed with a pretty girl like you, then yeah.” jay teases. you could feel the heat grow on your face.

“let’s just go to sleep.” jay chuckles.

“alright.” the bed dips right beside you and it grows quiet. the only sound was the fan whirling on the ceiling.

a few minutes pass, you didn’t know how long but it felt long. the bed moves and the bolster was thrown aside. you were now facing jay, there was something unreadable written on his face.

“maybe, I am a wolf.” jay mutters. before you could even react, jay’s lips fell right on yours. your heart races quickly, his hands lowered down to hold onto your waist, seemingly pulling you closer towards him as the both of you laid in bed practically making out.

it almost felt like a dream…

“(name).”

god, where was that noise coming from and who was calling out for you?

“(name).” it was jay’s voice but he was kissing you, what’s going on. then, the room shakes. you were slowly waking up and the bright sunlight greets you.

you woke up and looked up at jay. he was dressed up since he probably had classes in the morning.

that was all a dream?

“you were umm, talking in your sleep.” jay explains. your face flushes with embarrassment as you realised that you may have just dreamed of jay kissing you. unfortunate part is, he may have heard your scandalous dream.

you raised up your hand and covered yourself with the covers. “d-don’t. I don’t want to know what I was mumbling, it’s embarrassing.”

jay snickers, “mmm, alright…” he pulls the cover off your face. “must be a nice dream, hmm? I was the main star wasn’t I?”

“shut up.” you looked down on the ground beside the bed and grabbed your comfy home slippers. “say something again and I’ll throw my bunny slippers at you.”

jay laughs. “okay okay! I’m joking, I won’t talk about it anymore. it’s between you and me.” you hummed. “alright, I have to go now. classes start soon and I have to wake those two hungover asses up.”

before jay leaves, he ruffles your hair and leaves a small peck on your forehead. you had no idea why but it still made your heart leap. the door shuts and you fall back onto jay’s bed.

you couldn’t believe it, it was all a dream…

and jay probably knew about your dream talk

taglist[open]: @bldelaine @velvtcherie @shalkeren @kgneptun @yenqa @dammit-jjk @sionshiii @enhaz1 @mrchweeee @ncityzenz @autumn583 @okokok4 @ariadores @n1k1mura @kwiwin @drunkdazeded @justkatey @thatsroug @auesoooo @bunchofroses07 @j4ysluv @heeseungwifeyyy @smouches @bubblytaetae @dimplewonie @brachioanton @blackhairandbangs @heestrawberries @amesification @rizzshimura @y4wnjunz @rainyjy @pkjay @simjyunnie @imtoanonymousforyou @jungwoneez @jeongingf1 @astrae4 @heartswonn @pinkishyngs @heeseungsbabyy @in-somnias-world @ramenoil @wantmatthew @leehanascent @kayyssw @allisonleannn @kim2005bomi @saurxcream @urmomssneakylink @zyvlxqht @honeyboobear @ddazed-lhs @bee-the-loser @sunkislove @glassesyunjin @eleanorheartschishiya @jayjongie @woninluv @artstaeh @jwnghyuns @junissy @svmjaeyun @clairecottenheart @onigirik1 @woniejjang

(want to be added into the taglist? just send an ask or fill up this short form here!)

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polyamorousmood · 3 months ago

Note

I don't have much to say, but I am very thankful a blog like this one exists. Thank you!

To keep this an ask somehow, what are your opinions on all the polyamory flags? My favorite is the tricolor with a yellow heart, and the one with a pi symbol has always hurt my eyes with its contrasting colors and the symbol makes me confused on the origins of the flag. I've never seen the flag in your pfp!

You don't have to have a question! Just as my neighbors are welcome to come by to borrow a cup of sugar or chat about the weather, my community here can always drop me a line 🥰

About the flag -- you must be new here. I say that with no judgement! Everyone has to start somewhere, and we're happy to have you! But you've enrolled in a history lesson: the flag used in my icon is a variation on the OG polyamory flag you referenced, that tried to fix some comment complaints while staying true to the original as much as possible. I picked one that has slightly darker/less saturated colors (for the eyestrain😵‍💫) and the infinity heart symbol (more intuitive representation).

Before we go any further I do want to say I don't begrudge anyone any flag they want to use. We have way way way more important shit to worry about than *checks notes* someone using their crayons to color stripes a color we don't like. But I have talked about the new flag thing as it was happening and again here so I won't waste my breath on that. Now, back to the history lesson! 🧑‍🏫🦴

So what's with the pi π symbol? Love, like the digits of pi, is inexhaustible, endless. This is always true, but especially relevant in polyamory. Where the assumption is that "if you really loved the first person, you wouldn't be able to fall in love with a second" reaffirming that you can actually love without limits is a very salient point to make! Same with fears of you "loving the other person more" or that polyamory is just "shopping around" with the end goal to find one person to monogamous with (but without ever having to be single). We can and do love infinitely, plus there's a cute little joke with these being called "irrational" numbers and love not always being that rational!!

While I went with the infinity heart because its easier to sus out and I don't want people I don't know asking me if I'm some kinda math nerd when I show off pride stuff, I think that underlying reasoning is very important to remember. Don't hate on the pi symbol! (And you know, don't hate on any of the flags, either)

My final and most important thought on the polyam flags is that they're all dating 💕💞

#there are also other more obscure flags but I'm not getting into those #poly pride flag #poly flag #polyamory #Thanks for dropping by!! I'm very glad you like the blog ^.^#ask box is always open #opinion column #Poly history

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factual-fantasy · 3 days ago

Text

24 Asks! Thank you! 🦷

Alrighty, here we go-🙌🙌

Episode 5 was pretty meh to me in some ways and my tier list hasn't really changed. Kinger still shines at the top of my favorites list. Even more so when he brought Pomni under the dark desk so he could think more clearly and help her with the adventure.

I miiight move Caine down from S tier to A, he's starting to get sus and his anger towards Zooble criticizing his adventures was not a good look.😔 I might move Pomni up a tier and mayyybe move Zooble up.. But Jax is still in the "no" tier.

I know, I know. everyone loves Jax after this episode. And I can admit that his sob story that hinted at an abstracted friend was nice and all, but it doesn't matter to me what trauma he has or what his coping mechanism is. It doesn't justify how badly he treats others, and he should not be getting away with it.

Lastly, something that really bothered me throughout the whole episode is Pomni saying "Do you guys know about his (Kingers) wife?" and NOBODY addresses it.💀

As soon as she said that I paused it to geek out, I was SO EXCITED to see what the others would possibly say! Only to have.. not even an actual distraction to anyone other then Zooble and Jax happen- and NO ONE mentions it. Why didn't Gangle or Ragatha say anything? They wouldn't have been distracted by the corn like Jax or Zooble, and they ABSOLUTELY heard Pomni. I was so disappointed that such a cool question was asked by Pomni, only for LITERALLY NOTHING to come from it. 💔

All in all, episode 3 still ranks as my absolute favorite👍

(Link in post)

I actually thought about going back and trying to draw it again after this post was so enthusiastically received. But looking back? The more I thought about it and broke it down.... ehhh, I really didn't like it. Which is why I haven't wanted to attempt to write the story out or post the rough sketches..

The comic itself was lacking, but the most important thing was the writing. Looking at it more critically, Gloria made a lot of decisions she would not have made which eventually led to mega Grimace. If I were to try and tackle that idea again, it would take a looooot of re-writing and thinking.😔💔

My symptoms are acting up today, which is making it hard to focus and draw. But other than that I am ok :) I hope you two are well!

@badlyblurry (Sent after this post)

I WISH I could have seen that- those both sound hilarious XDD

Also fat squirrels look like Chinchillas 🤣🤣🤣

So I've heard 😅🙄

@idk-wot-to-do-here

SCREAMSS THANYIIUUU!!! :DDDD There's a good chance you'll (kind'a) see him again soon! :DD

I never watched it, it just felt like it was a heartless sequel that was trying to expand on a complete trilogy just for money. At least that's how people described it-💔

I'm sure they'd love it! :DD I remember liking it when I read it! :)

It entirely depends on the character, but I can at least draw my factual fam from memory! :DD ..Just not color them from memory-- <XDD

@ardent-38

AAA THANKYOU SO MUCH!!! :DDD 💞💞💞

@spelling-is-a-curse

Thank you so much!! :DD And thank you for the media suggestion! I'll have to do some googling about it! :0000

@mossieeeeee

Thank you! But sorry pal, drawing requests aren't free! You gotta order one over on my Ko-fi.

And I can see the group mostly going to Sylvester for comfort. Considering his "ribbons" emit a soothing aura 🧘‍♂️

The main reason for me not having a cape as well, is Bibi, Jangles, Cici and Gerald all exist as dolls in real life. All of which have tiny quilts made for them.

To fit the theme, if I were to have a quilt cape I'd want to make one for myself in real life. And I just haven't really done that- 😓😓 I don't have the money for those materials anymore and never really had the motivation to sit down and make a full sized quilt..

Plus, I like that my sona is very simple and easy to draw. If I were to add a quilt to my design it would make drawing my sona take a lot longer.. 😮‍💨😮‍💨

(Referencing this post)

It reminded me of her too! XDD

@starrystratagemnova

Thank you so much! :DDD Also, you can find the answer to that in the FAQ (Frequently Asked Questions) in my pinned post! :)

@burningmusicfunnygiant (Link in ask)

If I remember correctly..

Bonnie was.. kind'a in shock I think.? He didn't really emotionally process it at all. He had been playing Freddy's high processing role as "main star" with a slow processer for so long.. he just hardly had the strength to grapple with emotions anymore on top of all that data he needed to process everyday.

I think what I wrote.. was when Bonnie saw them he kind'a just... didn't look them in the eyes. He didn't say anything and kind'a just.... walked away. Whenever they tried to talk to him, he would just look away and stare off into nothingness. If they tried to approach he would likely just gently turn and wander out of the room.

It took quite a few days, but Freddy was persistent and finally got though to him. He realized that Bonnie was manning the main stage all these years, which he is NOT programmed to handle. He must be so overwhelmed every single day... Equipped with that knowledge, Freddy was able to approach him and eventually got him to talk. Bonnie was struggling to express his emotions.. but he was able to say "I'm very glad to see you again... I missed you both very much.." before he went mute again.💔

Foxy was just beside himself. He had been trying so hard to keep everyone together and not let the grief break him. Now that he saw them again, now that he knows they're alive.. he just broke down. For all the time lost, for all the worry, all the recharge-less nights.. only to see them now. It was such a relief but it was also so crushing. They were here the whole time. And Foxy hardly even looked for them.

Monty was just like Foxy, he was beside himself. But he was more composed then Foxy. He was able to speak clearly and express how much they all loved Freddy and Chica and how dearly they were missed. Though he didn't have the composure to say much else.

Roxy originally didn't have the bolts to face them. Much like Monty in my AU- or at least in the rewriting of it--- she was so ashamed of what she'd become, and didn't want them to look at her. She felt responsible for the Glamrock era which was what sealed Freddy's fate, so she couldn't look him in the eye.

Anytime Freddy tried to talk to her she'd usually flee. But one he time approached her while she was alone, kind of cornering her. She was upset and kept looking away. Which made Freddy slink away in shame and apologies for his appearance. That's when she broke down in tears and approached Freddy.

She was NOT afraid of him or disgusted by his appearance, she just felt so ashamed for everything that's happened and couldn't face Freddy after wronging him so badly. Even if it was an accident. And she couldn't bare to see the saddened expression Chica would surly have when she sees what a jerk Roxy has become.

Freddy forgave her for everything even though she didn't need to be sorry. He gave her a hug and pat her on the back, telling her it was gonna be ok. She became a kinder and gentler Roxy after that.

Holy cow!! That's a lot of views! Congratulations! :DDD 🎉🎉🎉

@virtualworldfp5

AAAAA CONGRTULATIONS!! :DDDD 🎉🎉🎉 I HOPE YOU CONTINUE TO GROW AND THRIVE! :)))) 🙏🙏🎉🎉🎉

@beryl-shade

I fear that they could persuade me into giving them whatever they want 😔

Its the eyes isn't it? XDD

@endlesssuffering4ever

Candy diver cookie! :DD I should really go back to cookie run sometime- 😅😅

#tadc episode 5 spoilers #tadc episode 5 #fnaf security breach #factual fam #my response #pokemon scarlet and violet

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all-pacas · 4 months ago

Note

Not sure how much it counts for the happy prompts but how do you think chases first week working for house went? And what do you think was the first time chase impressed house even a little? ^^

i think the first time chase impressed house was during that week. maybe even on his first day.

chase is, at least officially, a nepotism hire. while i doubt that’s the full story, if only because i can’t think of a way for house to want to fire someone faster than “his dad made a phone call,” it is the official line: house says it in the pilot, treiber says it in s8. chase is here because his dad made a phone call.

which means he must have started on the thinnest possible ice. house is going to want him gone the second he has an excuse. chase was hired under coercion and it doesn’t matter how pretty and smart he is: house wants him out.

but we also know the reason chase stuck around: he is a good fucking manipulator. house says this in the jerk: chase can read people very well. he is a schemer. he’s sharp. we see this referenced a lot on the show, actually: he’s lowkey house’s default schemes guy. he fakes being the CDC. he rigs betting pools. he talks parents of patients out of suing, he is in house’s worlds “politically gifted,” kissing dr. thomas’s ass until chase can get any procedure done he wants. in family, house asks chase if he has any schemes to fix a problem. chase was the original manipulative bitch. it is why, in the jerk, house admits he hired him.

so i think that must have been revealed pretty quickly. maybe chase was annoyed at one of house’s other hires and did something. maybe house was trying to haze him and chase saw through it and his scheme. maybe there was just a really angry patient chase was able to talk down and into something stupid. i can just picture house’s delight that this useless nepobaby has some depths to him.

remember how in s4, house is able to figure out who committed mail fraud because henry dobson was asleep and the other lady wasn’t going to risk her visa by breaking the law? chase was on a visa until s7, and still had a wild disregard for his own potential deportation and breaking the law. i think he clicked for house right away, utterly despite house’s intentions: chase is nuts, and chase can enable so much malpractice, and gosh darn it, maybe the kid’s worth keeping around after all.

#malpractice posting #robert chase #gregory house

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genericpuff · 1 year ago

Note

I'm unaware if you ever wrote any post on Ares' characterisation in LO so I wanted to ask your thoughts on it :OO

personally, i dislike it a lot and how his whole ''''flirtatious'''' attitude towards Persephone is often played off as a joke when in reality it feels awkard and quite disgusting, i'll go as far as to say it comes off as harassment so for it to have a humorous tone is.. yikes...!

Yeah, I have zero clue what Rachel's intentions were when writing Ares. Obviously we know now that she's referencing Nonnus' Dionysiaca in which Persephone was courted by many of the same characters that are into her within LO (including Apollo and Hermes, though weirdly enough not Hephaestus which... gives me a little bit of sus 🤨 vibes that Rachel didn't want the one physically disabled character to be attracted to her self-insert version of Persephone, but that's neither here nor there and I obviously can't confidently claim that's what that was, it's just the vibe I get lmao) but when it comes to Ares, the writing feels very flip-floppy.

Like yeah, he apologizes to her later for lying to her so he could make out with her, but he still goes back to being an obsessive weirdo during the trial when he demands for Hera's blessing so they can get married ??? And it feels more like it's just being used as a springboard to get Aphrodite and Ares to separate so that Aphrodite can get with Hephaestus which is, first of all, absurd, because why the fuck would Ares just suddenly drop his entire relationship with Aphrodite for Persephone of all people (that's the power fantasy / Mary Sue writing at play tbh) but second of all, it's once again Rachel simply reversing the myths and calling it "subversion" and "deconstruction when that's not what subversion or deconstruction is. She does this a LOT too and it just feels so lazy. Like the extent of her imagination with this "retelling" is "what if it's the myth but , like, the other way around?? wouldn't that be so creative and fresh??"

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lo critical #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical

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addisong · 2 months ago

Text

The Circle + What Brainrot Terms They Would Use (if any)

Stephen - Chronically online. Can and will be referencing skididi toilet any chance he gets. Thinks it’s funny to add ‘maxxing’ to the end of every word. Probably mews or smth. Judges people by whether they have L Rizz or W Rizz (believes himself to be the latter).

Robert - Does not understand what any of this means. Too embarrassed to ask, so he just tries to understand using context clues.

Amatis - ‘Goofy ahh’ and similar phrases. ‘Only in Ohio’ as well.

Maryse - Regularly calls people simps. Uses ‘sus’ and says ‘this slaps’ at least once a day.

Valentine - Is ‘too sophisticated’ for brain rot. Has a screentime under an hour. He believes this makes him better than everyone.

Jocelyn - No brain rot at all. Not in a ‘better than thou’ way, she just doesn’t use it 🤷

Luke - I can’t see him using very much brain rot either. Maybe says 'rise and grind' or 'hitting the grind' idk

Celine - Chronically online. Uses Alpha, Beta, and Sigma to describe people. Also, not technically brain rot, but is so deeply entrenched in pop culture that she makes references only God himself knows the origin of.

Michael - Calls himself the rizzler ironically, also uses terms such as ‘gyatt’, ‘delululu’, and ‘sigma’ in that same vein. ‘Fanum Tax’ as well.

Hodge - Calls himself the rizzler unironically… that’s all I have to say about that.

#headcanoning stephen and celine as ipad kids in an alternate universe #this is so stupid #I'm just doing anything atp #the shadowhunter chronicles #the secret treasons #the circle of raziel #valentine morgenstern #jocelyn fairchild #stephen herondale #robert lightwood #amatis herondale #luke garroway #hodge starkweather #michael wayland #maryse lightwood #celine montclaire

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justchillandshipit · 8 months ago

Text

Allow me to take a moment here. Tim just acknowledged couch theory?

Moving on to Buck and Tommy’s breakup, talk about your approach to it. Why was Tommy sure that Buck would break his heart?

Tommy’s older and Buck is very new to this, and whether Tommy was correct or not, I think what he felt like was exactly what he said: I’m not your last, I’m your first, which is a special thing to be, but as Tommy says, it doesn’t usually end up being the same thing. And I think based on what we know of Buck, he’s maybe not wrong. Buck’s a little impulsive when he’s feeling a certain kind of way. He’s like, move on in, bring your couch. So I just think because Tommy’s a little older and wiser or maybe at some level he feels like he doesn’t deserve Buck, I don’t know. But I think he accurately diagnosed Buck. Buck’s still figuring himself out, and boy, that would be quite risky to move in with that guy as much as you would love to.

---

We have a couch reference.

---

Somewhat unrelated but relevant:

I also think that I have finally caught up on all the articles. In every article, someone says Eddie is straight. I want to say about four articles have a reference or a mention of straight Eddie, and there is one in-canon statement from Eddie. So what do we think about that? I instinctively want to say that to have that many denials is sus, but I also have to acknowledge that the question was asked before the response was offered. I honestly don't know what to believe when it comes to the show's direction. I'm still here though and sticking with my original plan to give them until the end of Seasn 8 to move Eddie out of the closet. I will not accept the demise of this ship a moment sooner. It doesn't help that actors are excellent liars. Oliver always makes me second guess myself. lol For now, I'm still here and still clowning.

Other things to consider in favor of Buddie:

There was one article from TVInsider where the interviewer reminded the reader that Eddie said he wanted a beard. Most of us know the gay coding of that word, and that was promptly followed by the Priest pointing out that Eddie was wearing a mask/disguise. This is all within the same conversation where Eddie assumed the Priest was hitting on him, and he called himself straight.

I'm also low-key wondering about the possible conflict between Eddie and Buck coming up. I need more info on that. What?? These two haven't had beef since Buck sued Bobby in Season 3 and Buck and Eddie argued in the grocery store. We all know how Eddie served c#nt like a professional in that fight. Eddie ended up forgiving Buck soon afterward, but Buck was still apologizing four episodes later. lol

I saw in another post where someone compared the image of Eddie in the confessional with the image of Eddie seeing Buck through the peephole of his door. (Hint, both looked like confessional images.) That has to be deliberate.

Tim's comment above referenced Tommy and a couch in a similar context to Eddie and Buck's conversation when Buck said his last few couches came with girlfriends, and Eddie corrected him to say his girlfriends came with couches.

@stagefoureddiediaz 's color theory is still proving accurate as well.

Updates

Buck looking less than thrilled at seeing Laker tickets. Tommy tells him he can use the gift with Eddie and Buck perking up at the idea, only for Tommy to say nope. Joking. (On a second watch, I think I read too much in to this one, but I'm keeping it on the list as very loose interpretation.)

Oliver admits that Buck looked Eddie up and down when he opened the door and knew something was going on with him, but then the whole sit in silence thing. (I know the breakup was on Buck's mind, but I swear he looked like he was trying not to think about Eddie being half naked beside him.)

Also, Eddie was half naked just sitting beside him. I can't help but think of them sitting there like that. Buck and Eddie are going to the same place, but they are taking totally different paths to get there. At some point, they are going to meet each other face to face and be like, you're here.

(I saw a theory. You always have to take these with a grain of salt, but I can't deny the theory sounds good. there have been a lot of parallels that are relevant for Buck and Eddie with the exception of Eddie's shooting.) I did read one interview, it may have been TVInsider, where the interviewer said they hoped Buck wouldn't be in danger. Oliver hinted that Buck was always putting himself in those situations. I think it might be a hint for what is to come. Also, if Buck is putting himself in dangerous situations again, this might be something that has Eddie angry with Buck. I think there is a lot of room for this theory. We'll have to wait and see on that one.

In a previous interview, Oliver told us there was an upcoming scene where Buck and Eddie sat in silence and that it was a testament to their friendship. In the latest interview in Variety, he talks about the scene again but this time he says "that it speaks volumes about their relationship that they could be going through things and handling it so differently but still be there for each other with little need for words. (This is the same interview where Oliver admits that Buck looked Eddie up and down.) At the end of this question, he reiterates that it speaks volumes that they were in different places and could still be there for each other. He says, "I think it really speaks volumes to the strength of their bond."

#911 abc #buddie #oliver stark #ryan guzman #eddie diaz #buck buckley #911 spoilers

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letsgoletsgetit08 · 7 months ago

Text

fix off pt. 1

summary: Mingi turns to every coping mechanism besides a healthy one in the aftermath of Jongho's death, two years later.

warnings: MDNI!!, 18+, su*c*de attempt, implied/referenced su*c*de, major character death, overdose, recreational drug use, religious imagery & symbolism, catholicism, barebacking, strangers to lovers, bittersweet ending, angst, hurt/comfort

pairing: priest!soft dom!Jeong Yunho x hot fucking mess!Song Mingi

author's note: HEY! Read the tags! This fic has some very heavy content! Please DO NOT READ this if mentions/discussion of suicide/attemps or character deat (RIP Jongho, so glad you're alive IRL, king) are in any way triggering to you! Also, know that myself and Ateez would be very sad if any Atiny or anyone else took their own life. Don't do it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ! !! !!! That said, this work is based on/influenced by/referencing - sometimes lightly, sometimes very directly because Phoebe Waller-Bridge is more of a genius than me - the show Fleabag. This show is personally very important to me, it both healed me in some ways and also hurt me very deeply. If you have seen the show, you know how this ends. Again, read the tags. Phoebe, if you happen to read this for whatever reason, I just hope you're flattered because of imitation and all that.

OKAY! Disclaimers disclaimed, please let me know if I missed anything. And with that, please enjoy. This one is kind of my baby. I hesitated to even post it here because I'm a little scared of how it will be received but you never know until you try, right? Comments, likes, & re-blogs are always welcome, but please be civil.

word count: 23,480

ao3 link: fix off

fix off

It's hard not to spiral.

Chest constricting, breath becoming shallow.

Mingi tossed the bar rag onto the counter and dismissed himself to the bathroom.

Cold water splashed on his face.

Not cold enough. Need some ice.

He thought he had seen Jongho. Which was impossible.

His friend had died nearly two years ago now.

He died two years ago.

Mingi composed himself enough to go back and sling espresso martinis to faceless patrons. Turning on his disarming charm enough to make decent tips.

Coping.

Back home, laying in bed, Mingi got off while watching the news. Contemplated texting his ex.

He was a little offended that she hadn't come back yet.

She always came back.

It was one of the only constants in his life, repeating the cycle of breaking up with Yuji when she became too overbearing, trying to be too serious.

“It feels like you only want to be with me for the sex.” She had accused him of it a thousand times if she had done it once.

“My friends really like you, too.” Mingi half-heartedly defended himself. She'll hate to hear that.

“Do you like me, Mingi? Because I'm trying. I want to take care of you.”

“I'm not a child.” Mingi pouted.

“You're the only person who believes that.” Yuji turned to go, taking his lack of response to her question for what it was, “I'm not coming back, Mingi. Not again.”

She'll be back.

She wasn't.

The next time he'd seen her, six months later, she had actually looked happy, something he honestly couldn't say during the times they had been together. Ring on her finger, hand around the bicep of a man Mingi vaguely recognized.

Mingi saw her. Caught her eye.

She's going to walk over.

She walked over and introduced her fiancé, “This is jfodwjjfow.”

He wouldn't remember the man’s name anyway, why bother to hear it when it was said the first time.

“So good to meet you, Jeff.” Definitely not his name. “Wish I could stay but I really have to be going.”

He barely noticed the confused expression on her face as he dashed away.

Two Years Ago

"You know that guy who comes in on Tuesday nights and sits at the end of the bar?” Jongho asked, looking up at Mingi with a devious grin.

"Tall guy who drinks red wine and looks like he wants to eat you?” Mingi teased him.

"Shut up, no way! He's probably looking at you. Everyone looks at you.” Jongho meant it as a compliment.

"Well they should look at you because I will just chew them up and spit them out.”

"Why else would God give you such big teeth?” Jongho skirted out of the way before Mingi could smack his ass with the bar towel.

"Do I have big teeth?!” Mingi was hurt.

"No!” Jongho stayed a few feet away, out of the line of fire, “No! I'm sorry, your teeth are fine!”

"I'm hideous!” Mingi whined.

“Hush, Mingi. You're perfect.” Jongho sighed, “Nevermind about that guy, anyway. I have my hands full with you already.”

“You love it.” Mingi shot him an innocent smile.

“Of course I do.” Jongho poked his cheek, “Who else will?”

A Tuesday. Probably.

“Mingi, promise me you won't be late tonight.” Seonghwa’s voice was stern, pleading over the phone.

Mingi had taken the call while riding Soobin's dick. Or maybe it was Seungmin. He couldn't remember. He'd just been calling him “baby” since he came over.

He was Hongjoong’s accountant.

“I won't.” He would. “Promise.” He shouldn't.

It was Seonghwa’s debut as Marius Pontmercy in an off-broadway production of Les Misérables. A big deal. He would finally be catching his big break.

“Okay, good because I really want everyone there.” Mingi faltered at the implication of the word. Like they were complete without Jongho. “It's very important to me. And I don't want to be embarrassed by you walking in late, I'm not even sure they will let you-”

“Yes, I know, Hwa.” He panted, Baby's hips bucking underneath him, “I'll be there.”

He’s noisy. Loves nipples.

“What are you doing? You sound out of breath?” Seonghwa’s voice was verging towards hysterical.

“Just out for a run!” Baby let out a moan that Mingi knew carried through the phone.

“Ew, Mingi! That is disgusting-”

“Fuck, yes, Soobin!” Mingi couldn't help but cry out, ending the call as the man nailed his prostate.

Soobin filled the condom inside him, Mingi followed quickly behind, collapsing to his chest.

“It's Seungmin, asshole.” The man pushed Mingi off of him and cleaned himself up, gathered his things to leave, shirt on inside out.

He’s probably going to realize he’s actually straight now.

Mingi got off to the memory of the scene again, later, in the shower.

He was only twenty minutes late to Seonghwa's debut that night. Tears streaming down his face at the performance. His friend was beautiful. The musical was one of his favorites.

I’m a total sap.

He wished Jongho were there to see it.

Seonghwa let himself be hugged backstage after the show, a rare treat, even letting Mingi linger for a beat before pushing him off, accepting the flowers he held out to him.

My bouquet looks pathetic next to the others. He’ll hate it.

“Didn't want it to go to your head too much.” Mingi quipped, joking about his bouquet.

“Thankfully, no one else had your same mindset.” Seonghwa was probably joking but his words stung. He studied Mingi’s face, not seeming to know how to help in the moment, instead, turning his attention to the rest of their friends, Hongjoong sidling up to his side as Mingi stepped away. “Let’s get everyone in for a picture.”

Everyone.

The word was repeated all night, at dinner afterwards, at the bar after that. Ringing in Mingi’s ears.

Mingi coped in one of the only ways he knew how.

Drink after drink, not knowing what was what, just that it had alcohol.

Everyone will be mad at me by the end of the night.

He had gotten too loud and apparently said something to upset Seonghwa. Not hard to do. Hongjoong scolded him, staying composed as he asked him to leave.

Yeosang sweet Yeosang ended up under his arm, guiding him to the curb outside of the bar, waiting on the Uber.

“What's wrong with me, Sangie?” Mingi slurred, ignoring how Yeosang’s body tensed when his head fell to the other's shoulder.

He's going to say nothing is wrong with me. They always do.

“Nothing is wrong with you, Mingi.” His voice was sweet, deep, soothing.

“Everyone hates me.” Mingi whined.

“No one hates you, Ming.” Yeosang wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “You just feel your feelings out loud. And you have a lot of them. Wooyoung is similar, but he has a San to regulate him.”

“I don't have anyone.” Mingi sobbed.

“You do, Mingi. You just push us away. And I get it. No one can take Jongho's place. He was that for you, wasn't he?” Yeosang asked gently.

Mingi didn't answer but sat up, looking at Yeosang.

He is so pretty.

Mingi leaned in for a kiss.

Yeosang stopped him with a hand, “No, baby. You're drunk. You don't actually want to do this.”

What the hell did Yeosang know?

He was right. Of course.

“Sorry.” Mingi mumbled.

The Uber pulled up and Yeosang helped him inside, instructing him to drink some water when he got home.

He should have asked for Yeosang to help him. He would have done it.

I should ask.

He should ask.

But he always pushed them away.

Mingi hated riding in cars. He gripped the seat for dear life the entire drive.

There was no one to make sure he didn't drown in a pool of his own vomit. The thought hit him somewhere on the ride home.

He wouldn't drown in a pool of his own vomit.

He hadn't yet.

I need a grilled cheese and a cigarette.

Two Years Ago

The Tuesday man was leaning across the bar as far as it would allow, flirting with Jongho. Mingi felt pride swell in his chest. They were cute. He was sweet, making Jongho blush, calling him pretty.

Bastard.

He hated sharing Jonho. Yes, the seven of them were friends, but he and Jongho were close outside of that. If he were asked to trade the six others for Jongho, he would. Easy. No one got him like Jongho did. Mingi felt a little like he had raised the man, with him being a little over a year younger than himself. He knew it had to be hard being the youngest in a friend group. He wanted to make sure Jongho had someone. They were roommates in college. It stuck. Had worked at the same bar together ever since.

In a lot of ways, though, Jongho had taken care of Mingi, too. Through heartbreaks and the general ups and downs of life.

He loved him more than anything.

Naturally, he was a little possessive of his friend. But he also wanted him to be happy.

He pushed down the acidic, curdling sensation in his chest. Let him be happy.

Mingi would be there for him when he inevitably let him down.

A Thursday? Maybe??

Wooyoung had talked him into hot yoga.

“It will be good for you, I promise!” Wooyoung sing-songed as they walked into the studio.

San probably loves the fact that he’s into yoga.

The studio was sweltering, they weren’t misadvertising, that’s for sure.

“I feel like I’m going to die.” Mingi complained.

“Shut up and take your shoes off.” Wooyoung instructed.

Not the first time he’s said that line.

“Buy me dinner first.”

“You need therapy.” Wooyoung rolled his eyes.

Tried that, didn’t work.

His therapist said that he was projecting his grief for Jongho onto what really was daddy issues. Or something like that. He really hadn’t paid too close attention. He had fucked his therapist after a few sessions though.

After sweating buckets and nearly pulling a muscle to keep from slipping and busting his face open, he thanked Wooyoung for inviting him and made him promise to never do it again.

On the way out of the studio, a bus was unloading.

Tuesday guy.

Mingi locked eyes with him as he hopped off the bus. Time stood still.

The man nodded and Mingi darted in the other direction, Wooyoung chasing after him.

He finally caught up, “Hey, what the fuck!”

“Sorry!” Mingi clawed his fingernails into his palms, “Forgot I liked the smoothie place on 7th better than the one on 9th.”

A lie.

“Well damn, you could have just said something!” Wooyoung scolded him, mostly playfully but still seeming perturbed at Mingi’s odd behavior.

Two Years Ago

Jongho was off that night. Tuesday guy sat in his same spot.

Mingi tested him.

Tuesday failed.

Took Mingi to his apartment after work.

Fucked Mingi senseless into his mattress.

Fucking Tuesday.

He never learned his real name.

But he would never have called him by it anyway.

Mingi’s dad had cheated on his mom.

Any given day of the week, honestly, does it really matter?

The bar was dead that night and Mingi didn’t bother to fight to close with his new coworker. Let himself be cut early so that he could go home.

He texted the group chat on his walk home.

Got cut early. Anyone wanna meet up?

He waited for replies. None came in. No one had even read the message.

Fine then.

He walked aimlessly around the city, finally landing on a park bench, staring out over the lake. He didn’t know what to do with himself.

The sun was setting and he watched it paint the sky pastel.

He dialed Jongho’s number.

Hey, it’s Jongho! Leave a message. Or just text me like a normal person.

Again.

Hey, it’s Jongho! Leave a message. Or just text me like a normal person.

Interrupted.

“Anyone sitting here?” A feminine voice, light German accent. He looked up.

She had stick-straight dyed red hair to her shoulders, microbangs, piercings, and was more tattoo than skin.

“No, sorry. Just um.” He looked down at the phone in his hands, “On the phone.”

“Why are you apologizing?” She raised a sharp eyebrow at him. He spotted a tongue ring when her mouth was open.

“I don’t know. Sorry.” He blinked at her. Clocking that he had just done it again.

She studied him, “Hm. You’re sweet, aren’t you?”

He shrugged.

“Pretty lips. I like you. If I take you to my place, you can’t murder me, okay?”

She looks more like she would be the one to murder me.

“Okay.” He agreed.

Looks like I have plans tonight after all.

“Oh, you’re going to be fun.” She smiled, standing up and offering her hand to help him up. He followed her like a lost puppy to her apartment.

The Germans are known for their open-mindedness in the bedroom. I should have remembered that.

He was tied to her bed from all four corners, wrists and ankles secured. Cock leaking pathetically onto his stomach. She walked around the bed, strutting in her elaborate black lace lingerie, pulled the blindfold down over his eyes.

They had discussed it briefly on their way over. Limits, safe word (tiramisu), and the light system.

Green light. Green light. Green light.

He felt the bed shift as she crawled between his legs, fingers dancing over his skin as she teased him everywhere except where he wanted it.

“So desperate already for me, aren’t you, Mingki?” Her accent added an extra percussive affect to his name.

“Yes, goddess.” He breathed.

With no warning, she began licking his cock from base to tip, guiding it into her mouth without even touching it with her hands. The tip of it hitting the back of her throat immediately.

I'm way too well hung for someone to be able to do that so easily.

She worked him expertly, slow at first, then picking up her pace until she estimated he was close to his peak, a faint pop as she pulled off of his dick. He squirmed, searching for any sort of touch, wanting to cum so badly. He heard her chuckle, “Oh, no, mein liebchen, it won't be that easy.”

He whined and pouted, cut short as she positioned herself above him, rolling a condom on and applying lube before lining herself up and taking him in one go.

I'm way too well hung for someone to be able to do THAT so easily.

She sat still, cockwarming him until he couldn't take it, sweat breaking out on his forehead, hips bucking, which earned him nothing besides sitting up so that only his tip was inside of her. He couldn't reach, no matter how hard he tried, to enter her any further. Eventually, she lowered herself ever so slightly, once he stilled his movements, proving he could be patient. She bounced up and down, tiny movements, only taking the first few inches of his length. Normally, he would be slamming his hips at breakneck speed by this point but he felt more turned on than ever before as he was brought to the edge again, only for her to pull off at the last second.

She was straddling his face seconds later, “Me first, then we'll revisit you. If you can manage to get me off.”

“Yes, godd-hmmmpph” she cut him off by placing her wet cunt on his face. The lube was strawberry flavored and he ate devotedly, like it was the last supper.

I'm not even religious!

He focused hard, listening for little moans and the involuntary twitch of her hips to guide him in knowing what she liked. It was so much harder to gauge with a blindfold on, but just as his jaw was aching so bad he thought he might have to give up, cock throbbing and leaking precum into the condom, she finally came, crying out at her release.

“What a good pet.” She panted, moving back down to his cock again, taking him in one go and grinding her hips evilly, swiveling them but not letting him fuck into her still. “You can't cum until I come on your pretty cock, understood?”

“Yes, goddess, please let me make you come.” He begged, surprising himself.

She fell forward bracing her hands on his chest as she fucked herself on his dick. He almost lost it as he finally felt her clench around him, moaning at her second release, then surprising him by removing the blindfold.

“Eyes on mine and beg me for it.” She demanded.

“Please let me cum, goddess, please I'll do anything, please, please, goddess, I-” she stroked him with her pussy, as he begged until she was satisfied, tears streaming down his face.

“Okay, since you asked so nicely.” She stilled her hips, “Go ahead and use me, you filthy boy. So desperate.”

He cried out as he tried to get a better range of motion to fuck her. She didn't help at all, but he was already on a razor wire, and soon he was cumming hard. She dismounted as soon as she felt his orgasm start, ruining it. He whimpered pathetically, not feeling satisfied, not enough cum leaving his body.

She chuckled, “What's wrong, my little pet? You wanted to cum. I let you cum.”

He couldn’t answer, genuinely crying now.

“Color, Mingi?” She asked, seeming concerned.

“Green!” He sobbed.

“Good.” And she removed the condom, his dick still hard. She stroked up the underside with one steady finger until his hips were bucking pathetically again, then she gripped him genuinely, working him to a real release this time. The sound that escaped his chest was something he was sure had never left his body before, thick ribbons of cum hitting his stomach and chest, covering her hand.

“Thank you! Fuck, thank you.” He cried as she worked him through it.

She made sure he got proper aftercare when they were done. He stood in her doorway, staring at his shoes, voice barely above a whisper, “Can I… um. See you again?”

She smiled sympathetically, “No, so sorry, darling. I only ever do this once with someone.” She tapped his cheek, “Best of luck out there. I really did have a good time.”

“Okay.” He sighed, “Thank you again.” And he turned to leave, feeling emptier than ever as he walked home.

Two Years Ago

Jongho was a mess when he got to work that day, dark circles under his eyes. Mingi clocked it immediately, dragging him to the walk-in cooler to talk.

“What's wrong?” He asked, trying not to panic, certain he was found out.

Jongho never cried. It ripped Mingi’s heart in half. “He fucking-” Jongho choked on a sob, “I don’t know what I did wrong! I-” He buried his face into Mingi’s chest, “He told me he cheated on me and then-” A huge sniffle, struggling to catch his breath, “He said he couldn’t live with the guilt and he broke up with me! I don’t know what’s wrong with me-” Another wave of sobs racked his body.

“Shh, come on. You can’t work like this. Let’s get you home.” Mingi pulled him to his side, guilt spilling down his spine like ice water.

Back at their apartment, Mingi spent all night taking care of Jongho, wrapping him in a blanket on the couch and letting him talk things through. Three bottles of wine between the two of them. He had no clue why Tuesday hadn’t told Jongho the full truth. He was too scared to do it himself. Instead, he let the gravity of his sin guide his actions, coddling his friend to try to make up for it.

They ended the night curled up in Mingi’s bed together, Jongho still crying softly as he drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, the bed beside Mingi was cold.

He had thirty missed calls on his phone. None of them were from Jongho.

He panicked, calling the last person who had called him back.

“Mingi, thank god.” San’s voice was thick, clearly he had been crying.

“What happened?” Mingi’s voice was strained, anxiety eating him alive.

“Mingi… It’s Jongho.” San took a shuddering breath, “He’s- he’s gone.”

“What do you mean, ‘gone’? There’s no way. He was upset but I’m sure he just turned his phone off and he’ll be back here any time with a pack of cig-” Mingi refused to believe what he had just been told.

“No, Mingi.” San cut him off, “They found him. His car, it was-”

“No! You’re wrong!” Mingi was in denial, verging on hysterics, “They’re wrong, they need to check again! He’ll be back any minute!”

“Mingi…” San sobbed. He heard him mutter something about not being able to do this as the phone was passed to someone else.

“Mingi. I need you to take some deep breaths and calm down.” Hongjoong’s voice was surprisingly gentle over the phone, but commanding enough to make Mingi stop sputtering nonsense that he knew, deep down, was all untrue.

“I’m sorry.” Mingi felt tears begin to streak down his face, “I’m sorry. I’m listening.”

“Hwa is ordering you an Uber. We should all be together right now. You need to get dressed and be downstairs in ten minutes, okay?” Hongjoong’s voice only wavered slightly.

“Okay.” Mingi hung up the phone.

Once he was at Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s apartment with the others, they filled him in on everything they knew, which truthfully, was very little.

Jongho indeed had alcohol in his system, according to the coroner, but having known him, he had a pretty high tolerance. It wasn’t certain he had been too drunk to drive. He had left no note, but the way the crash had happened, it almost looked intentional.

There was no way of knowing now, of course.

Mingi filled them in on why Jongho had been upset. Not the full story. He didn’t think he could ever admit that to anyone. Even with the added context, the friends all silently agreed that it had been an accident. The alternative was far too painful.

The pit in Mingi’s stomach begged to differ. The doubt that lingered would never leave him. Not even for a moment.

Seonghwa’s Bachelor Party

Mingi felt especially proud of himself, walking up to Seonghwa’s apartment - his fiance would be staying at a hotel that night - knowing what surprise he had planned for the night.

He’s going to do backflips.

The stripper he had hired was around Hongjoong’s height, pretty dark brown hair, wide, soulful eyes. Mingi had picked him out himself, wanting the surprise to be absolutely perfect.

When he stepped inside the apartment, his stomach dropped.

I really shouldn’t have muted the group chat.

He was under dressed in slacks and a sweater. Everyone else was in suits. More than just their close friend group was there, too. A memory niggled at the back of his mind, vaguely remembering reading a text saying Seonghwa’s more conservative cousins would be in town from Korea. They were staying for a few months before the wedding, through the holidays, since the wedding was on New Years Eve, treating the trip like a long vacation.

Mingi tried to turn around to back out, wanting to call the booking agency immediately to cancel the stripper, but Wooyoung spotted him, looking relieved to have an excuse to leave the conversation he was having with a particularly dull looking family member, making his way to Mingi in just a few strides, pulling him into the living room.

“Thank fuck!” Wooyoung whispered into his ear, “That guy was talking about the stock markets and I thought I was going to die.”

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Mingi couldn’t help but laugh at the situation.

“He got got, too!” Wooyoung jutted his chin out, gesturing towards the kitchen, where San was sequestered by three cousins, eyes pleading as he met Wooyoung’s gaze.

Mingi cackled as he saw San mouth “Help!”

A punch on his arm from Wooyoung startled him, “Why are you underdressed?”

“I muted the group chat! You guys talk so much.”

“Well some of it is important, dumbass!” Wooyoung scolded him, “You better not be planning anything stupid tonight.”

“What!” Mingi tried to look surprised, “I would never! I’m just here for Seonghwa.”

“Yes?” Seonghwa had heard his name and was headed towards them, “Mingi, why are you underdressed?”

“I’m sorry! I can’t read, you know that.” Mingi whined, trying to sound innocent.

“Just, please, please don’t do anything stupid tonight. It’s already tense with my family here, I had to bribe them to even come to the wedding by promising we would get married by a Catholic priest. Neither of us wanted that, but no offense, I didn’t want my wedding to just have you guys and all of Hongjoong’s family.”

“We’ll be good, Hwa. Promise.” Wooyoung offered.

“It’s not you I’m worried about. I need the princess to survive the night without making it all about himself.” Seonghwa snipped, then his face fell, looking a little remorseful, “Sorry, that was harsh, I-”

“No, no.” Mingi pretended it hadn’t hurt him to hear, “You’re right. I promise I’ll be good, tonight is all about you and making your weird, boring cousins happy.”

As it turned out, keeping his weird, boring cousins happy was a tall order. They didn’t want to play drinking games - they barely wanted to drink, they didn’t understand Mingi’s sense of humor, and when they weren’t talking his ear off, they seemed to be treating him practically as wait staff, asking for more of the snacks from the kitchen, or another beer, or what his beliefs on the afterlife were. The latter of which he dodged, making a lame excuse of needing to pee.

Mingi had snuck off to the bathroom attached to the primary bedroom, searching through Hongjoong’s side of the cabinets, hoping that the man still had a bit of a fun side. Exclaiming in excitement when he found a little bag of weed gummies buried carelessly under other over-the-counter meds and random, clearly forgotten about toiletries.

He figured they were probably old, so he popped two in his mouth before even reading what the label said. 25mg/piece.

Fuck. Well. Too late now.

He spotted an old bottle of Xanax, giving it a shake to see it was almost completely full. He pocketed it as well.

You never know.

When he emerged, he was rudely reminded of what he had been so worried about when he had arrived.

Yeosang was answering the door, letting a man dressed in a black, sparkly, see-through shirt, red, glittery, heart-shaped pasties covering his nipples clearly visible underneath, and loose black pants, the outline of his bulge making itself known as well. Yeosang, innocent and clueless as ever, let the man inside before Mingi could get over there to stop him.

The weed began to hit Mingi and he couldn’t make his feet move as the man turned on the bluetooth speaker in his hand and a loud, harsh techno beat took over the room, every single voice going quiet to stare.

“Who’s the beautiful blushing groom?” The man surveyed the room noisily.

Seonghwa’s cousins were stunned silent, but Yeosang still hadn’t caught on, pointing to Seonghwa, “That’s him!”

The Hongjoong look-alike stripper ripped his shirt off as he approached Seonghwa, and only then did Mingi’s brain catch up to his feet, jogging over to stop the man.

“I’m so sorry!” Mingi tried to cut him off, “There’s been a mistake, I messed up-” He let out a giggle, his weed-fuzzed brain finding the situation hilarious despite himself.

“Is this your idea of a joke, Mingi?” Seonghwa looked mad, hurt, and very disappointed.

The stripper was not tuned in to the conversation and had started trying to dance for Seonghwa.

“No! I’m sorry! It’s not a joke, I didn’t read the group text and I was going to cancel-” Mingi touched the stripper’s shoulder, trying to pull him off, “Hey, can you please stop that, you need to go, I’ll pay-”

“HEY!” The stripper yelled, “No touching! That’s literally the first rule you agreed to when you booked me!”

“Mingi, get the fuck out of here.” Seonghwa scolded him.

“Hwa, I’m so sorry! I’m going, I promise-” Mingi pleaded, hands coming up to try to show his innocence, but hit the stripper’s ass on their way up.

“What the FUCK did I just say?!” The stripper wheeled on him, punching him straight in the right eye socket.

San was there in an instant, putting the stripper in a hold and froggy walking him out the door, Mingi following dejectedly behind, trying to keep the tears from spilling out as the cold air hit his face again.

“San, please, I’m sorry, he has to know it was an honest mistake.”

“Honestly, Mingi. Not right now. Just.” He huffed a long breath out of his nose, “Just save it. Okay? It’s not me you need to apologize to.”

He turned his back on Mingi, heading back inside the house.

The stripper glared up at him from his spot on the curb, holding his hand out for payment.

“Are you insane? No one carries cash.” Mingi spat at him.

“Then Venmo me, dickhead.” Not-Hongjoong instructed him.

“No! Fuck off. You ruined my night.” Mingi turned around, trying to start walking home, but was stopped when the stripper jumped on him from behind, struggling to put him in a headlock due to their height difference. It was enough to get Mingi to turn around, though, which earned him a knee to his crotch and a sickening crack of his jaw, followed by his left eye. Mingi doubled over and took off running the best he could given his current state, lip bleeding onto his sweater, ignoring the shouts from the angry stripper behind him, hating how high he was as he staggered home in the cold, the world around him not feeling real.

Back at his apartment, he drew himself a bath, placing the bottle of Xanax and his phone on the edge of the bathtub before climbing in.

His head still felt wrong from the weed. Off-kilter. Anxious. Like melting cotton candy.

He lined up the pills on the lip of the bathtub, counted them.

He read the label that time.

He took three.

Dialed Jongho’s number from memory on his phone.

Hey, it’s Jongho! Leave a message. Or just text me like a normal person.

Again.

Hey, it’s Jongho! Leave a message. Or just text me like a normal person.

His brain went pleasantly fuzzy.

Head falling to the back of the tub a little clumsily.

He took three more.

Hey, it’s Jongho! Leave a message. Or just text me like a normal person.

He took three more.

Hey, it’s Jongho! Leave a message. Or just text me like a normal person.

The words started to lose all meaning as his vision blurred and he sank further into the water.

His fingers dialed the only other number he had memorized.

“Mingi?” Hongjoong’s voice was sleepy, clearly worried.

“Everyone hates me.” Mingi sighed, slipping down further into the tub, water feeling like molasses on his skin. Everything felt warm. Sticky. Cottony.

“Why aren’t you out with Seonghwa for his party, what’s wrong?” Hongjoong asked him, voice urgent.

“I think I fucked up, Joongie.” Mingi’s voice was slow, distant, tinny, metallic and childish sounding in his own ears, tongue too thick for his mouth.

“Mingi, baby, tell me what you did.” He heard Hongjoong get up from bed, “Where are you?”

“‘M home. I love you guys.” Mingi sighed, his vision going spotty.

“No, Mingi, stay with me!” Hongjoong pleaded.

But Mingi’s phone fell into the bathtub with a subdued splash as his vision went dark.

H e y , i t ’ s J o n g h o ! L e a v e a m e s s a g e . O r j u s t t e x t m e l i k e a n o r m a l p e r s o n .

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Mingi blinked his eyes open slowly, head splitting as his pupils adjusted to the bright lights.

The unmistakable smell of disinfected hospital hit his nose. He was equal parts relieved that he was alive and annoyed that he was so incompetent he couldn’t even kill himself properly.

His muscles screamed as he turned to the left, finding an open-mouthed, haggard looking Hongjoong asleep on the rigid hospital chair next to him.

Tears streamed down his face silently as he felt himself drift back asleep.

“I swear, he didn't seem that bad when he left!” Wooyoung's voice was hushed, urgent as he defended himself.

Mingi didn't open his eyes yet, not wanting to give himself away, now very intrigued in the conversation.

“I guess the stripper must have beat him up when I kicked him out. I should have driven him home.” San's voice quivered at the end of the sentence.

“Yes, someone should have stayed with him.” Hongjoong sounded incredibly exhausted and a little mad.

“It's easy to see now, but I mean was he acting that abnormal leading up? I don't understand what set him off.” Yeosang sounded genuinely worried.

“You guys realize the anniversary of Jongho’s funeral was the day before yesterday, right?” Hongjoong asked reproachfully.

The silence was deafening.

“I knew it was soon…” San trailed off, clearly ashamed.

“I know we were all friends with him. And I'm not saying whatever friendships all of us had with Jongho weren't important or as meaningful or anything like that. I would never minimize that.” Hongjoong took a deep breath, “But it was different for Mingi. I think we all know that, deep down. And I don't think any of us have acknowledged it. We've been pretty hard on him.”

“Who exactly is ‘we’?” Wooyoung asked, his tone biting, “From my point of view, we've been pretty normal with him. The only person he's fought with is your fiancé.”

There was a pregnant pause before Hongjoong spoke again, “I- I know. Seonghwa knows, too. He doesn't mean to be hard on him… I promise he's trying. You guys have no clue how hard he's beating himself up over this. He hasn't eaten since he heard. I'm really worried.”

“He has to know Mingi won't blame him for anything-” Yeosang started.

“He needs to grow the fuck up and get here and be supportive.” Wooyoung huffed, his tone erring on petulant.

“Baby…” San tried to calm him down.

“Sorry.” Wooyoung mumbled.

“He'll come by when he's ready.” Hongjoong said simply.

“Well try to give me warning because I really don't want to see him right now.” Wooyoung spat.

Mingi tried to stir to bring attention to the fact that he was awake, not wanting the conversation they were having to turn into a fight.

“Wooyoung-” Hongjoong said at the same time San tried to soothe him, “Jagi-”

“Guys.” Yeosang made eye contact with Mingi as he sat up in bed.

“Mingi!” Wooyoung nearly tripped over his feet to get to his bedside, San and Yeosang following behind, Hongjoong giving him a little more space.

“Youngie.” Mingi croaked, his throat incredibly parched, mouth tasting too much like mouth for his comfort.

“We're so sorry, honey.” San’s face contorted, holding back tears.

“We didn't know how bad it was.” Yeosang offered.

Hongjoong poured him a cup of water, which he took gladly, taking a sip before speaking again, “I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking stupid.” He felt tears build in his eyes again, looking over to Hongjoong, “I'm sorry you had to find me like that.”

“Mingi, no. I'm just glad I found you.” Hongjoong laid a hand on his shoulder, never being one to be very comfortable with physical affection.

“I'm so sorry.” It seemed to be the only phrase Mingi could remember how to say.

Luckily for him, the nurse came in then to check on him, taking his vitals and informing him that he had been accepted to an inpatient behavioral health hospital and that transport was being set up as they spoke.

“You're sending me to the psych ward?” His stomach dropped.

“Yes sir, we're required by law to have you admitted after a suicide attempted. You're considered very high risk right now.” She spoke as if she had delivered the same line a thousand times already that day.

“I just failed to commit suicide and I feel like dog shit!” The effort from raising his voice made him dizzy, “There’s no amount of money you could pay me to convince me to try that shit again right now.”

His friends didn't seem to know what to say

“You will just have to take that up with your psychiatrist at the hospital. I'm sorry. If you don't go willingly, the doctor will have to put you on a 72 hour hold.”

Mingi closed his eyes, seething, “Fucking… fine.”

“Okay, good. I'll let the doctor know.” She walked out of the room and no one moved until she was out of ear shot.

Wooyoung cocked an eyebrow at him, “You're really gonna-”

“Hell no. You guys have to help me get out of here. I'll stay with one of you, I promise, I just can't… please. Don't make me.” Mingi all but begged, feeling small and vulnerable like a child.

Everyone turned to Hongjoong, the de-facto leader, often thought of by his friends as the dad of the group.

He looked between the men before finding Mingi’s eyes, sighing when he saw how desperate his friend looked, “San, trade clothes with him and go distract the nurse.” He never stopped looking at Mingi while he spoke, “We're getting him the hell out of here.”

Five minutes later, Hongjoong, Yeosang, and Wooyoung surrounded Mingi from four sides, trying to obscure him from the view of anyone who might try to stop them, though it was essentially futile, considering how Mingi towered over them, giggling to themselves as they heard the nurses gasp and squeal. San had evidently just taken off his paper scrubs shirt as a distraction. They made it into the elevator and all the way downstairs undetected, within only a few hundred feet of the front door when they heard San’s out of breath voice from the stairwell yelling, “Run!”

They obeyed, taking off towards the parking lot, hopping into San's 4-Runner as he unlocked it to signal its location, though he himself was still a hundred or so yards behind, bare feet slapping on the pavement (Mingi had squeezed his feet into San's shoes) as the guards slowed their pace behind him, clearly accepting their defeat, out-paced easily by the athletic man.

Mingi felt like death as he wheezed, exhausted from the effort in the middle back seat of San's car, wedged securely between Hongjoong and Yeosang, San hopping into the driver's seat. He felt like death, yes, but he also felt more alive than he had in a long time, being the first one to crack and start laughing in the car after a moment of unsure silence. Wooyoung followed second, his high pitched wild laughter making everyone else submit to a giggle fit as well. San rolled down the windows and stuck his head out as he drove out of the parking lot, hair blowing in the chill winter air, yelling, “Nice try, bitches!” as they made their escape.

Two and a Half Years Ago

Mingi and Jongho had managed to sneak away from Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s engagement party, finding themselves in Hongjoong’s den, laying on the floor, rather cross-faded, skin still damp after coming inside from the balmy spring air that had enveloped them on the back porch.

"I can’t believe they’re finally going to get married.” Mingi sighed staring up at the ceiling.

"San and Wooyoung must be thrilled. I bet San is scheming already.” Jongho chuckled.

Mingi scoffed, “I think San has had a ring in his closet for a year at this point.”

"You’re probably right.”

Mingi turned his head to look at his friend, studying his profile, the shape of which he had memorized years ago, “First those two, then Wooyoung and San. You think everyone will expect us to get married next?”

Jongho met his gaze, “Mingi, no offense, but I will only marry you at fifty if we’re both still single.”

"Promise?” Mingi was mostly joking.

Jongho rolled his eyes, “Someday, someone will take care of us like we do each other.” He turned his head back away, “But just in case… yes. Promise.”

"Hell yeah.” Mingi pumped his arm in victory.

"You left Yeosang out of all of that, by the way. What’s he going to do?”

"I assumed he would move in with Youngie and San at some point.” Mingi deadpanned.

Jongho chuckled, “I’m honestly surprised they haven’t all moved in together yet.”

Footsteps had them craning their head to the back of the room.

Seonghwa’s arms were folded, “Did you guys plan on being antisocial all night?”

Mingi and Jongho shrugged, sitting up, Jongho helping Mingi to his feet.

Seonghwa sighed dramatically, “Please come back and join us. Act normal for once.”

“Yes, mom!” Jongho mocked.

They had to swallow their giggles as Seonghwa marched them back to the kitchen and living room, where everyone else was gathered.

The Present, October 15th

Mingi woke up, slightly disoriented, in Wooyoung and San’s guest bedroom, far too early in the morning. His face was throbbing, bruises and swelling finally going down, but still aching and tender nonetheless. He looked on the bedside table for painkillers before remembering that he hadn’t been left with any from the hospital, considering how he had chosen to depart. That, and he assumed, a cold pit in his stomach, Wooyoung wouldn’t allow him access to any meds without supervision. Really, Mingi felt zero desire to ever try to hurt himself again, but he understood that his friends were just doing their due diligence to protect him.

Embarrassment and shame coursed over him.

I'm a fucking mess.

He looked for his phone, finally finding it plugged in on the desk on the opposite side of the room.

He scrolled through and replied to messages from Hongjoong and Yeosang, telling him he was feeling fine and thanking them again for their help.

He knew it was too early for Wooyoung to get up, so he scrolled absentmindedly through his phone for a while before the pain from the wounds on his face, his split lip and bruised jaw and eye sockets, were too much to continue ignoring. He looked around in the room for any of his belongings, not finding anything except what he had worn of San’s home from the hospital.

The dresser in the corner of the room stared at him and he walked over to take a peak. Some of Wooyoung and San’s off-season clothes were in there, shorts and swim trunks mostly. But in one drawer alone, was one of Jongho’s old hoodies. Faded dark green and perfectly worn. Mingi remembered it because he had borrowed it on more than one occasion after work, on their walk home, always having been one to forget a jacket. Jongho acted like he was put out to lend it to him, but Mingi knew as well as he had, he didn’t mind a bit. Now that he thought about it, it was totally possible that Jongho had always worn it just for his sake. The man ran very hot, constantly complaining about it, even in winter.

Mingi brought the sweater up to his face, hoping it would still smell faintly of him, but knowing deep down it wouldn’t. He slipped it on, zipping it up, putting the hood on, and heading into the kitchen to try to find some coffee. After a few minutes of searching (much to his guilt, realizing that they had locked up their knives), Mingi found the necessary supplies to make coffee, rustling through the pantry for something to eat as it brewed.

“You’re up early.” Wooyoung’s raspy morning voice startled him.

“Ah!” Mingi whipped around, “Sorry, yeah. My face fucking hurts.”

“I’ll get you something.” Wooyoung gave a small smile, “Sorry, you understand why I couldn’t just leave you some-”

“Nah, I know.” Mingi waved him off, “I would do the same thing. Don’t worry.”

Wooyoung nodded, “Okay, good. I’m glad. I’ll go grab it.”

Mingi poured two cups of coffee as Wooyoung returned, handing him a steaming mug in exchange for two ibuprofen tablets.

“Thanks, man.” Mingi tossed them back, swallowing them dry, knowing the coffee was still too hot to sip on, “And thanks for letting me stay. I don’t want to put you guys out-”

Wooyoung placed his mug down on the kitchen island, his typically sharp, vulpine features turning soft, crossing over to hug Mingi out of the blue, “No way, Mingi. I’m just so glad you’re okay.” He pulled back, “I’m so mad at you, too. But it’s far outweighed by how glad I am that you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m here, too.” Mingi confessed.

“Good.” Wooyoung blinked back tears, swallowing, “I couldn’t do another funeral, Mingi.”

“I know.” Mingi’s face flushed red, embarrassed at the idea of causing his friends so much grief, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“No more apologizing.” Wooyoung commanded, “You should keep it, by the way.” He nodded at the hoodie Mingi had donned.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to take-”

“Mingi, I’m sure. He would have wanted you to have it. It just makes me fucking sad every time I see it. I want to remember him in different ways other than just being sad he’s gone. Please take it.” Wooyoung’s eyes were soft as they peered into Mingi’s soul.

Mingi held his gaze for a moment, before finally nodding, “Okay. Yeah. Thank you, Wooyoung.”

“Of course, Ming.” Wooyoung sipped his coffee before turning around to retrieve a skillet from the cabinet under the island, “Let me make you some pancakes.” He stood up and cut Mingi off before he could protest, “No. I’m rephrasing that. I’m making us pancakes. And you’re going to eat them with me.”

“That sounds great, Youngie. Thank you.”

Mingi watched as the younger began to gather ingredients, pouring them into a mixing bowl and starting to combine them. Something kept clawing at the back of his mind though. He didn’t know how to breach the subject so he just asked, “Have you um… heard from Hwa?”

Wooyoung stirred a little aggressively and Mingi nearly laughed at how his jaw clenched at the mention of their friend’s name, “No. Although to be fair, I think Hongjoong made it clear he shouldn’t talk to me right now. I’ll ask San when he wakes up, but I highly doubt it.”

“Ah.” Mingi couldn’t think of anything else to say. He understood why it might be hard for Seonghwa to see him at that very moment, but he wished he knew exactly why his friend didn’t want to see or speak to him. Was it because he was mad at Mingi? For the party, or for trying to kill himself? Or was he mad at himself? Or was it all just too much for him to face? Maybe a combination?

Wooyoung poured the pancake batter into the skillet, “I can hear you overthinking. This is partially why I’m so mad at him. He’s leaving you wondering why he won’t reach out.” He waited for the edges of the pancakes to bubble before flipping them, “You know, for someone who gave you so much grief for making things about yourself, he sure does have a nasty habit of doing it himself, doesn’t he?”

Mingi snorted, laughing at how true the statement was, “I’ve always said he and I were too similar in all the wrong ways.”

Wooyoung couldn’t help but break a grin as he plated the first batch of pancakes, handing it to Mingi, “You might actually be right about that.”

Wooyoung joined him at the table a few minutes later, and it didn’t take long for them to defrost a bit as the man realized he didn’t have to handle Mingi with kid gloves. San joined them a bit later, and there for around an hour, everything felt almost normal. Like they were in college again, scarfing down breakfast at someone’s apartment after a night at the bars. It was so nice that Mingi found himself just staring, watching Wooyoung and San interact together. The two of them had become symbiotic practically immediately, nearly a decade ago at that point. He realized possibly for the first time ever, seeing how so painfully domestic and intimate the two of them were, that he wanted that with someone.

He hadn’t noticed the tear slip down his cheek until San looked at him, concern falling over his delicate feline features, “What’s wrong, Song?”

Mingi laughed at the intentionally bad rhyme, “Nothing. You guys are just cute. I’ve missed you a lot. I’ve missed this.”

Wooyoung kissed San on the cheek, “Hear that? He thinks we’re cute.”

Mingi crinkled his nose in fake disgust, “Okay less so now.”

San chuckled, “We missed you, too, Mingi.”

“We’ll make more of an effort. All of us. Promise. We all need each other and it’s time we stopped isolating.” Wooyoung looked at him a little pointedly.

“I agree.” He nodded, knowing that Wooyoung was also holding him culpable for that last part.

“Good.” Wooyoung smiled, before standing up to start clearing the table. Mingi and San helped, San explaining that he had taken the day off of work to hang out with Mingi.

“Oh, um, I mean. You don’t have t-” Mingi started, feeling once again like a child.

“Yes. We do.” San said, a little stern, but there was no resentment in his voice.

Mingi nodded, “Okay. Thank you. I’ll be glad to have your company.”

San didn’t press or try to make him talk all day, which Mingi was grateful for. They watched movies and played video games for most of the day before Mingi felt like he needed a nap. They ate together like a family once again that night.

The next couple of weeks went on like that until they started to trust him again, leaving him alone during the day while they both returned to work. Mingi wondered absentmindedly if he still had a job. His boss hadn’t even called, but maybe his friends took care of it. He wondered if he even cared. Really, he didn’t know why he had even stayed after Jongho’s accident. He could bartend anywhere. If he really wanted to continue doing so was the real question. After graduating with an anthropology degree and no desire at the time to continue his education, he had just continued to do what had gotten him through college. No reason not to, he was handsome and very good at his job. Made great money. But weirdly enough, nearly dying had him taking the first look at his future that he had bothered to take in years.

Maybe I should go back to school.

He had always liked the idea of teaching at a university level.

Seven Years Ago

"Fuck, yes, baby. Just like that!” Mingi looked up in awe as the girl he’d had eyes on all semester from his Literature class was riding his dick, letting out pretty moans. He didn’t even care if they were fake, she felt incredible.

Click-BANG!

The dorm door flew open, a completely distraught, clearly sleep deprived and hungover (possibly still drunk) Jongho barged in, only blinking as the girl covered herself and yelped, diving beneath Mingi’s navy comforter, laying herself flat to his chest.

“Mingi, I fucked up. I thought my history test was next week, you’ve gotta help me.” Jongho begged him.

“Right now?!” Mingi whined, hips still rocking under the girl whose pussy he was deliciously buried deep inside of.

“Please?” Jongho begged him, “I’ll pay for your laundry for a month, hell, I’ll do your laundry for a month, man, but please help! You’re the only one who knows anything about history.”

Mingi’s pace picked up at the compliment, hearing the girl moan as he plunged deeper, “Okay, fine, I’ll meet you at the library in twenty, and you better get coffee for both of us.”

“Thank you so much, I owe you!” Jongho packed his backpack, moving at a tortoise’s pace in Mingi’s eyes, who was barely restraining himself from moving like a hare.

“Jongho, get the fuck out of here!” He half-yelled, half-panted, grabbing the girl’s hips and beginning to slam her onto his cock, moaning as she moved her hips to match his movement.

Jongho sped up, haphazardly tossing his history textbook into his backpack and darting out of the room, saluting Mingi as he turned his back and closed the door.

"God, yes, Mingi!” The girl cried out while he rubbed her clit with his thumb, head falling back as she clenched around him. He followed moments later, spilling into the condom with a broken sigh.

In his post-nut clarity, Mingi made a surprisingly good history tutor.

Jongho had gotten a nearly perfect score on his test.

October 29th

Mingi was being given a chance to prove himself. He loved Wooyoung and San but he missed his apartment. He missed being alone, oddly enough feeling more alone around the couple than he did when he was by himself.

It didn’t help that he had decided to swear off sex for the time being. He wanted to be sharp. Clear headed.

He had decided to apply for graduate school.

There was no reason he wouldn’t get in, truthfully, but it had been a while since undergrad and he would need to get letters of recommendation from his old professors, plus take the GRE, and write an essay for his application. All of it was due in March the following year, in order for him to start at the fall semester, but he wanted to get a head start, scared to leave anything to the last minute.

He was being given a chance to prove himself by going out with his friends for Halloween. Promising to not take off, not do any drugs, and limit himself to a few drinks. Agree to go home with Wooyoung and San at the end of the night.

He could do it. He felt it in his bones as he tied up his shaggy, grown out hair for his Geto costume. He could be good.

I can be good.

Wooyoung and San were getting ready and changing into their Gryffindor and Hufflepuff costumes in their bedroom, so the knock on their door in the living room confused Mingi.

“I’ll get it!” He called towards his friends’ bedroom.

He opened the door to Seonghwa, dressed as Rey Skywalker.

Mingi offered a small smile upon seeing the look of poorly disguised worry on Seonghwa’s face, “Hey, Hwa.” He moved out of the doorway, “Wanna come in?”

Seonghwa cleared his throat, stepping through the doorway, “Thanks.”

“Wooyoung and San are still getting ready but I can go get-”

“No!” Seonghwa cut him off, voice tense, “Sorry. No, thank you. I wanted to speak with you, actually. If you’re okay with that.”

Mingi led them over to the kitchen table, knowing it to be more out of earshot to his friends’ bedroom than the couch in the living room.

Seonghwa sat down across from him, folding his hands in his lap, almost like he was trying to take up as little space as possible.

Mingi waited for him to start. Maybe he was a little petty, but he really wanted Seonghwa to be the one to start. He felt that he was justified in being a little annoyed that it had taken the man two weeks to speak with him.

“Mingi…” Seonghwa’s voice trembled immediately, “I owe you an apology.”

“Hwa, you don’t have to, I understand-”

“No.” Seonghwa’s eyes snapped up to meet Mingi’s, “You don’t understand.”

Mingi leaned back into the chair, placing his clasped hands onto the table, “Okay. I’m listening.”

“The night that Jongho…” Seonghwa swallowed, “No one knows this besides Hongjoong. But.” He breathed deep through his nose, “I had a missed call, Mingi.”

Mingi blinked as the realization hit. “You-”

“My phone was on silent. I had been on the phone with family all day, frustrated about wedding stuff. You know my parents don’t approve. It’s not an excuse… It’s been eating me alive. It’s a big reason we have postponed the wedding for so long. I’m seeing a therapist for it now but I think I was taking some of my anger at myself out on you, Mingi. Because you were with him that night. You’re a heavy sleeper and you’d been drinking. We all know that. Jongho certainly knew that. It’s not your fault you didn’t wake up when he left. I see that now. But I was deflecting my frustration with myself onto you and blaming it all on that.”

“Hwa…” Mingi wanted to tell him it’s okay. The guilt of his own secret making itself known by trying to steal the air from his lungs, stomach twisting.

“No, please.” Seonghwa blinked back tears, “Let me finish.”

Mingi nodded, so Seonghwa continued, “When I got the call from Hongjoong. Well, Mingi, it hit me that I shouldn’t have let it get this far. I almost lost you, too. After yelling at you and kicking you out of my house.” A tear escaped his eye, making slow work through the makeup on his cheek, “I almost lost you, Mingi.” He sniffed, reaching for a paper towel to dab his eyes, “I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself. I’m so fucking glad that Hongjoong answered his phone. I should have been understanding. It never should have gotten that bad for you, Mingi, I’m so sorry.” His words started to rush out then, “I knew I should have been there at the hospital. I shouldn’t have stayed away, but honestly, Mingi, every time I thought about trying to talk to you, trying to face this, I nearly had a panic attack. Hongjoong was patient, of course, but he told me we weren’t going out tonight unless I talked to you. He was right. I’m so sorry it took this long.” He buried his head in his hands, “I understand if you can’t forgive me right away, Mingi. But I want you to know that I’m going to do better. I’m going to be there for you. I never want you to feel like you can’t come to me, or any of us. But please, please, Mingi, don’t let it get that bad again, I don’t know what I-”

“Hwa.” Mingi stood up, walking around the table, “Come here.” He opened his arms.

Seonghwa blinked at him from his chair until Mingi nodded, then his friend stood and let himself be hugged. “I’m so sorry.” Seonghwa mumbled into Mingi’s chest.

“I’m sorry, too. I never should have scared you guys like that.” Mingi admitted.

“I’m just glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.” Mingi squeezed him tighter, “And I forgive you, Hwa. If there’s one thing I’ve learned recently, it’s that we all process grief differently.” He released Seonghwa, moving back to his chair.

Seonghwa sat back down, “You sound like my therapist now.” A smile worked its way up the corner of his mouth.

“Well,” Mingi laughed, “I don’t have the right degree for that. But I have decided to apply for grad school.”

“Mingi!” Seonghwa’s face lit up with pride, “That’s amazing, honey. I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks, Hwa. I love you, you know?”

Seonghwa smiled, “I love you, too, Mingi. I promise I’ll do a better job of showing it.”

“I’ll take it. Any extra love you have sitting around.” Mingi joked.

“Deal.”

“And then I’ll double it and give it back.”

Seonghwa laughed, “I know you will. You try to hide it, Mingi, but I know you’re a loverboy. Soft. Hopeless romantic.”

Mingi’s head tipped back with his chuckle, acknowledging how right his friend was, “Just don’t tell anyone, okay? I have an image to protect.”

Seonghwa stuck out his pinky, “Your secret is safe with me. Pinky swear.”

“Pinky swear.” Mingi let his finger wrap around Seonghwa’s, sealing the deal.

Hongjoong, dressed as Kylo Ren, called a few minutes later, having been waiting in the lobby of the apartment building for them. The four of them went downstairs to meet him, walking towards the subway station without being asked. Mingi was sure that they normally would have called an Uber, but they finally seemed to be acknowledging his aversion to riding in a car.

They met Yeosang, dressed as a vampire, at the bar.

Mingi did well for a while, but after a few hours out around so many people, noticing things he normally would have acted impulsively on - people discreetly exchanging small baggies of white powder, someone making eyes at him from across the bar, a woman trying to grind on him on the dance floor - added a sharp edge to the situation that he wasn’t accustomed to. He felt his heart rate begin to pick up, pounding in his ears, which had also started to ring.

His instinct was to dart off out the front door alone, but he remembered his promises to ask for help if he needed it. He searched the room, finally spotting Yeosang leaving the bathrooms.

He rushed over, grabbing his friend by the arm, “Sangie.” His grip was too tight, he knew.

His vision started darkening around the outer edges. Unable to take a full deep breath.

“Mingi?” Yeosang studied him, seeing his chest heave, eyes looking like they were having trouble focusing, “Come on, let’s get you outside.”

Mingi’s brain couldn’t make sense of his words, “Am I in trouble again?” His voice sounded small.

“No, honey, you just need some air, I think.” Yeosang looked at him more seriously, trying to ensure his words got through, “Mingi-ssi. You’re not in trouble. You need fresh air. I’ve got you, come on.”

Mingi let himself be led outside, gulping the cold air down like water as fast as he could get it inside his lungs.

“Just breathe through your nose, Mingi, you’re okay.” Yeosang instructed as he helped Mingi sit against the wall of the building.

Sobs racked his body unexpectedly, “I’m not trying to make everything about me, I swear!” Mingi looked at Yeosang, eyes pleading, desperate for his friend to understand.

“Mingi, no. No one thinks that. No one should have ever made you feel like that.” He grabbed one of Mingi’s hands, crouching in front of him, “You just got overwhelmed. It’s okay, really. I promise.”

Wooyoung and San had noticed their absence, evidently, as Mingi could hear their voices, tight with worry, coming towards them.

“Oh, thank God.” San said, sitting down beside Mingi, “Hey, you’re okay, Mingi.”

“He got overwhelmed, I think he may have been having a panic attack. But he came and found me.” Yeosang explained.

Wooyoung took Mingi’s other side, pulling his other large hand into his lap, “Good job finding Yeosang, honey.” Wooyoung squeezed his hand, “You did exactly the right thing.”

Mingi still wasn’t back to reality, but his brain had started to clear somewhat, “No one is mad at me?”

San put an arm around his shoulder, pulling him over so his head fell to his broad shoulder, “No, Mingi, I promise. No one is mad. You did the right thing. Let’s get you home, yeah?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you guys leave early-”

He heard more footsteps approaching, “Of course we’re sure.” Hongjoong’s voice, “Come on. We’re all going to Wooyoung and San’s.”

“We’ll get takeout.” Seonghwa added.

“We can watch Avatar: The Last Airbender. I know you’ve been wanting us to watch it.” Wooyoung offered.

Mingi finally sat up, tears tracking down his cheeks, “Okay, yeah. That sounds good.”

Who knew letting your friends help you would be so nice.

Back at Wooyoung and San’s place, they piled together on the couch and the floor in front, pizza slices in hand as they watched Aang and the gang fight the Fire Nation. Mingi was wedged between Seonghwa and Hongjoong and he let his head fall to Seonghwa’s shoulder as he started to get sleepy.

He awoke a few hours later to find that everyone had stayed. He was in Seonghwa’s lap, everyone else snuggled together with blankets and pillows on the carpet or curled into armchairs. It felt like a sleepover they might have had in college. His heart ached with love for his friends. Jongho would have scoffed and acted opposed to it, but Mingi smiled as he pictured the man begrudgingly staying, probably ending up cuddling close with one of them on the floor.

For once, the thought of his friend didn’t send him spiraling.

He had agreed to stay another week at Wooyoung and San’s on their way back last night. He knew it was the right call. He laid his head back into Seonghwa’s lap and fell back asleep once more.

Three Years Ago

The roof of the bar was crowded, but Mingi and Jongho had managed to carve a spot on the railing for it.

“I’m confused why we’re drinking for this particular occasion!” Jongho had to practically shout over the music and voices.

“We’re celebrating for my mom!” Mingi said it like it was an explanation. It wasn’t.

“For her getting cheated on?” Jongho was still lost.

“For my dad finally signing the divorce papers!”

“Ohhh!” Jongho nodded, “Okay then why aren’t you drinking with your mom about it?”

“Because she’s not ready to celebrate it, but I am!” Mingi held his cup up, expecting Jongho to clink theirs together.

Jongho shook his head, finally doing what was expected of him, “To cheaters! May they learn their lesson and never do it again!”

“Cheers, I guess.” Mingi laughed, confused by what exactly his friend meant. “What’s worse, the cheater or the person they're cheating on with?”

Jongho considered, “The cheater. But it really depends on how close the other person is to the situation.”

“So you don’t think cheaters should be punished for cheating? Just learn their lesson and never do it again?”

“Their conscience will be punishment enough, I’m sure. Plus, I mean, I don’t think anyone is born a cheater. Or a mistress. Criminal. Everyone has things in their past that can explain their behavior, I think. It doesn’t mean they should never live a good life just because they do something bad.”

Mingi thought about what had just been said, unable to come up with anything to rebut with. “I think you’re one of the most empathetic people out there, Choi Jongho. Good work keeping it so well hidden. I fear if anyone knew, they would just take advantage of it.”

Jongho chuckled, “Shut up.” He took a sip of his drink, “But thank you. Don’t tell anyone.”

~part two~

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