#this is specifically about chapter 1 btw

[mockingjaylad]

I’m gonna explode someone actually

[lagaans]

i made it to chapter 5 yesterday and i am still not sure where we are going but im along for the ride.... i couldn't really remember if i knew where the first book was going by this point either but i went and checked & it seems like no so at least there's that

[every-sanji]

[sortanonymous]

On the last Meta Knightmare...

Shiver Star, 1996 MSK

Susie: Who are the people in the picture, Mom? They look kinda like you, apart from the weird blue one!

Bea: Uh...

Chapter 2 of MKMIV: The Unforgettable Star-Studded Finale out now on AO3!

[lucrezianoin]

How to bookbind your fanfic!

Part 1: From AO3 to printing

The necessary first step is turning your AO3 fanfic into booklets. Your whole book will be a bunch of booklets piled on top of each others and stitched together.

Booklet examples:

Btw, this is the official Word tutorial on how to make a booklet.

You can see there are different options. I usually do 8 pages, which is what you will see in the video. This means that a booklet of 8 pages is two sheets of paper, printed front and back, folded and one put inside the other. To have your word pages in the correct order you will need to format your word document.

Everything is in the video but here is the text for easy reading (btw the fanfic I used is Exit by schwutthing, an amazing Valjean/Javert fic)

Do not download the fanfic on AO3. Click on "Entire work" and copy paste it on word.

Format your word document. Click on File-> Margins. Select "Multiple pages: Book fold" and "Sheets per booklet: 8". Put "Gutter" to 1cm.

Double click on the empty area just above your text, on a random page of the document. This will make the "Do not download the fanfic on AO3. Click on "Entire work" and copy paste it on word.

Format your word document. Click on File-> Margins. Select "Multiple pages: Book fold" and "Sheets per booklet: 8". Put "Gutter" to 1cm.

Double click on the empty area just above your text, on a random page of the document. This will make the "Header and Footer" option appear. You can click on "Footer" and select the format for the pages' number. Always add the pages number, it will make your life easier.

Now you can justify your book. I usually justify (select all text with CTRL+A and click on Justify), but keep in mind that some documents might not enjoy passing through "justify" so double check your final document. For example, if there are lines of poetry and the author wrote into the next line without starting a new paragraph the justify option will make it weird.

Make your book pretty! I added some illustrations and blank pages. I also made the title of the fanfic bigger.

Fix the chapters' titles and notes. I clicked on Home-> Find and searched for "Chapter", so I could select on each chapter title and make it bold, and also delete the "Chapter text" added just after. You can do the same with "notes" in case you want to delete notes.

Now it is time to print! I prefer to save in pdf before, so I will do that.

IF YOU HAVE A PRINTER THAT DOES NOT PRINT BOTH SIDES

Click on print

Select "Microsoft print to pdf"

Select "Manually print on both sides"

This will create two different files pdf, one for the front pages, and one for the back pages.

Click on the file for the front pages and print them all. Do not panic if you see the pages number all over it.

Now take your printed (only on one side) block of pages and load it into your printer again, making sure that you will now print on the blank back. Open your back pages pdf file and print.

(you can do a trial with a few pages to see if everything is lining up correctly).

IF YOU HAVE A PRINTER THAT PRINT BOTH SIDES

"Click on print

Select "Microsoft print to pdf"

Select "Print on one side"

This will create a single pdf that you can print on your both-sides printer. You will see that the page are not in the order you had on the word document, but the whole file will start with page 8 (see video).

Now print!

What you want is this:

You can see that on the front you have page 8 first, page 1 after, because when folded it will end up with page 1 at the start of your booklet! And on the back of this first sheet you have 7 and 2, that will end up in the correct position.

Now you will have a lot of pages... time to fold and create your booklet! Every two sheets... you will fold as you see above.

Next post will be specifically about folding the booklet, making the holes and sewing them together.

[mylovesstuffs]

learning to be loved after forgetting what it feels like to be safe.

🥕 bae-sically fake. yoon jeonghan [1]

a mylovesstuffs production...

You swear when you made up your fake relationship, you didn't know that someone worked at the coffee shop with the same name or that your family would go to check it out. Now everyone thinks you guys are actually together, and, well, pretending to be fake partners has never been so complicated. Jeonghan plays along, and even offers you a deal—100 days to let him try and woo your closed-off heart. masterlist

genre: fake dating au, modern au, romance, comedy, slice of life, slow burn, emotional healing

pairing: jeonghan × fem!reader

content: fake dating, post-breakup healing, strangers-to-partners dynamic, deal-making [100 days to woo], protective best friends [celeste, seungkwan], healthy family, intense ex-relationship trauma, food symbolism [carrots, broccoli, lunches], nice gestures [flowers, notes, meals], respect and gentle persistence, found family warmth, strong parent-daughter bond, empowering ceo, realistic emotional pacing

warnings: idr the specific warnings for this chp, so im adding all the things that this fic will have in this and future chapters. mentions of past emotional abuse/manipulation, toxic ex, grooming mentioned [non-graphic but explicit reference], cheating and infidelity [past, non-graphic], mentions of underage grooming [girls legal but barely, predatory behavior], emotional trauma and flashbacks, ptsd-like emotional responses, manipulation disguised as affection [past], reference to stalking/following for confirmation of infidelity, heartbreak and betrayal, gaslighting implications [in past relationship], alcohol consumption, mild cursing/swearing, themes of grief and emotional vulnerability, soft romantic tension, no smut [so far; not written yet], emotionally guarded reader, indirect trauma references, workplace sexism [called out], fluffy but with realistic emotional baggage

word count: 14,464 words

✦ in fiction we trust. love, celeste ˶ᵔ⤙ᵔ˶ first of all, tysm to yuki @eclipsaria and rae @nerdycheol for messing with their heads trying to figure out how to actually use the banner in this chapter — because i fucked up [well, not me technically, but technology… long story for another day]. they genuinely tried to help with every possible loophole they could think of, and i appreciate it sm. those days were a mess, and i still don’t understand how tumblr can share a meme but not a banner. anyway. huge thanks to ro @shinysobi and k @cheers-to-you-th for beta-ing and helping me revise this fic to the best version it could be. truly, without these two, i’d have gone insane trying to perfect it all by myself. i’m so, so grateful for their advice, revisions, and all the little tips that helped shape this chapter into what it is now. i could go on and on about how much they helped, but i’ll keep it short [before i get emotional lol]. last but not least, big thanks to k, ro, rae, and yuki for helping me name the ex [and not actually giving space to actual problematic ppl in my fic]. and a big bow to jj @iknowimanicon for letting me yap and brainstorm this fic on and on. btw, this beautiful beautiful banner by yuki!!

this fic went through a lot. i’ve written around 30k words so far [it still needs editing lol], and if this chapter isn’t as fun, i hope the next ones will make up for it. i really poured myself into this story, so i hope you enjoy. this is my submission for yuki’s 100 milestone collab! it’s also jeonghan’s part from my how do you fake it series ♡ i just changed the prompt a bit and included the 100 days — which honestly made it more interesting, imo. anyway, i hope you enjoy!

tag list: @metaphorandmoonlight @smiileflower @starlight-night0 @tokitosun @hanniescookie @woncheecks @suraandsugar @https-seishu @junniesoleilkth @aeerio @i-am-confused-about-life @syluslittlecrows @starstrawb @reiofsuns2001 @honeybear-taetae @atinygracie @nonbanhg @miriamkovacova @giverosespls @lalataitai @fragmentof-indifference @cowboylikemalika @salnovna @wooingmandy @binnielovie @sumzysworld @seungcheolsblackcard @matt-sturnioloo @soonyoonswoo @studioeisa @shinysobi

← prev chapter | ⌂ back to masterlist | next [coming soon] →

“I swear, Mom, I’m not getting married anytime soon,” you had said for what felt like the hundredth time. Your mother, however, didn't seem to hear you anymore, her eyes fixed on the wedding photo album you had been trying to avoid.

“You’re almost twenty-eight! Your cousin got married last month, and your aunt is already planning your other cousin’s wedding!” She sighed, flipping to yet another photo of the happy couple. “When will it be your turn?”

You pressed your lips together, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. She didn't get it. How could she? After the five-year relationship that ended in disaster, you hadn't exactly been eager to dive back into another serious relationship. And so, you said what you always said, a little more exasperated each time: “I’m seeing someone, Mom. We’re just waiting for the right time. It’s complicated right now.”

She narrowed her eyes, unimpressed as always, knowing you're just lying. “Oh? And who is this mysterious boyfriend of yours? Where is he, huh? Why can’t we meet him?”

“I told you, it’s complicated.”

You could see your mom’s gears turning, and you knew exactly where this was heading. “Well, if you’re really serious about him, maybe it's time you finally introduce us. You know, to make sure he’s a good man.”

Crap. You hadn't thought this through.

Your dad, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, chimed in from his chair, not looking up from his newspaper. “Is he from a good family? Are you sure he has the right intentions?”

"Yes, of course!" you said, possibly too cheerfully. Your eyes did a quick tour of the room as if they were looking for a fire alarm to pull. Naturally, your mom leaned in closer.

“Tell us his name, and we’ll go visit him. We can meet him at his work if that's more convenient.”

It was one thing to talk about a boyfriend they hadn't met, and it’s another for them to demand to meet him. Panicked, you blurted out the first name that came to your mind, “Jeonghan. His name is Jeonghan. He works at Mirage Café down the street.” You winced internally at the sound of the name. Jeonghan? Really? That’s what I said? I needed to come up with a name and that’s what my brain goes with? Not something easy, not some basic, common name, but Jeonghan?!

There was a beat of silence and you could practically hear the wheels in your mom’s head moving, and then she smiled, probably thinking she had won. “We’ll go there tomorrow. Let’s see this Jeonghan, then.”

Before you could even think of a way to backpedal, your dad nodded in approval. “Sounds good. We’ll go visit.”

You tried not to make eye contact with your mom as she smiled to herself. “Perfect. We’ll take a trip tomorrow. You’ll be happy that you let us meet him, sweetheart.”

-

The next day had arrived way too fast. You could barely eat breakfast without your stomach churning. Your nerves were through the roof, and the thought of meeting your family at Mirage Café made you want to crawl into a hole and hide forever.

When you and your family arrived, you stood awkwardly at the entrance, mentally kicking yourself for getting into this mess in the first place. Your mom marched ahead, searching for the barista. “Let’s call him, darling. He’s probably busy, right?”

“Right,” you said through a tense smile, not sounding as confident as you’d like.

She waved down a waiter. “Excuse me! Do you know any Jeonghan? He works here, right?”

Your eyes darted across the café as if you were being hunted down. You looked up at the ceiling, pleading with the universe to give you a damn break. Please, please don’t let them see through this lie. You cleared your throat, desperate to steer the conversation in another direction. “Oh, you know... he’s probably not working today. Maybe we should come back another time?” You offered weakly, trying to nudge the waiter into agreeing.

The waiter gave you a confused look. “I’m not sure... but I’ll check.”

Before you could stop him, a voice called out from behind. “Excuse me? Did someone ask for me?”

You turned around to see a tall, impossibly handsome man with an angelic smile walking towards you three. The very same man who had handed you your coffee that morning, you realized. You blinked in shock as his name tag gleamed in the light. Yoon Jeonghan? Oh no. You hadn't paid much attention when he'd taken your order, but your subconscious must have, since his name had been the first you'd thought of. Before anyone could say a word, you did something incredibly stupid. In an instant, you stood up, feeling your face flush hot with panic. You wrapped your arm around his arm, desperately trying to make this look like it had been all planned. “Oh, you're here! Mom, Dad, meet Jeonghan,” you said enthusiastically. “We’ve been together for... two years now.”

Jeonghan’s eyes widened for a split second as he looked at you in confusion, but then, slowly, his lips curled into a smile that was way too charming for your own sanity—far too practiced for how stiff his shoulders had gone. Your mom’s eyes were practically sparkling with excitement, and you could already tell this was going to spiral out of control.

“I didn’t realize you’d be here,” Jeonghan’s voice slid like velvet, but there was a slight corner of confusion below. He shifted his weight, then smiled at your family. “It’s nice to finally meet you all.”

Your mother, bless her heart, was practically glowing. She didn’t even ask what your relationship had been like, or anything that might have made sense, instead, she immediately started making plans. “You two must be so in love!” she gushed. “How did you meet? Tell us everything! Where are you from? What’s your family like?”

You could feel your face burning and really regretted saying two years. Jeonghan, to his credit, didn't seem fazed by her interrogation, though. He just smiled that perfect smile, and before you could say a word, he launched into the most believable, well-thought-out story about how you had met through mutual friends, weaving in little details like how we both loved hiking [which you didn't] and how we once spent an entire rainy weekend binge-watching a series together [you'd never seen it]. Your mom ate it up, of course, nodding approvingly, and you just wanted to die on the spot.

Then, Jeonghan glanced at you with a low-key teasing look, and you could see the corners of his mouth twitching. Is he laughing at me? You couldn't even tell, but just when you thought you might spontaneously combust from the pressure, your dad who had been silently observing, suddenly spoke up. “So, when’s the wedding?”

You blinked, your mind went blank. “Dad!” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Your voice was a bit too loud, and you caught the eyes of several other patrons in the café who were now all very clearly watching you. Jeonghan took this as his cue to add, “I think we’re still figuring things out,” Jeonghan said smoothly, “but I’ve been thinking next year might be a good time to propose,” and that made you choke on your own saliva.

“Next year?” Your mom’s eyes widened. “Oh, we have to start planning then! I have so many ideas—Y/N, you’ll want a nice, big wedding, won’t you?”

“Uh, I—” you tried to protest and reply with something, but your voice was lost under her excitement.

Once the initial shock of the meeting wore off, and after a painfully long conversation with your family, you eventually managed to escape the café.

You rushed out of the café, heart still pounding from the whirlwind you had just dragged yourself and a complete stranger into. He was standing by the side entrance now, sleeves rolled up, a hand running through his soft, brown hair as he stared off into the street.

You hesitated for a second before calling out, “Hey… um, Jeonghan?” He turned, eyes found yours instantly and then, a faint smile curved at the corners of his lips. “I’m so sorry,” you began, words tumbling out before you could even take a breath. “That was—that was a disaster, and you were just caught in the middle of it. I didn’t even know someone named Jeonghan actually worked here. I just made it up. I didn’t think—I never thought—”

He laughed, a warm sound that made your apology trail off. “I figured,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “Kind of hard to miss how wide your eyes got when I said my name.”

You winced, hands fidgeting in front of you. “Yeah, that’s… that’s fair.”

There was a pause before he nodded toward the café with a shrug. “It was entertaining. Not every day I got introduced as someone’s long-term boyfriend out of nowhere.”

You flushed. “Seriously, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into this. I just… panicked. My family had been asking about this imaginary boyfriend for ages, and then today, they decided to show up.” You let out a shaky laugh. “And now they think you are him, but I'm really sorry and I won't let it bother you and this was and will be a one time thing. I'll handle them.”

Jeonghan chuckled again but softly. “Well, if you’re really sorry,” he said, brushing imaginary dust from his apron, “you owe me a coffee sometime.”

“Huh?...”

He nodded. “One with my name on it, preferably. Since, you know… it is mine.”

You frowned in confusion. “Your name…?”

He gestured back toward the café. “Café Mirage. It’s mine. The whole chain.”

And you found your eyes going wide again. “Wait, you’re the owner? But you were taking orders like the other staff?”

He smiled as if he was used to that kind of reaction. “I like helping out. Keep things grounded, and it’s nice to be part of the buzz when I’m not buried in paperwork.”

You didn't know what to say to that. Turned out, your imaginary boyfriend was actually a charming, successful café chain owner who somehow hadn't reported you to security yet.

He pulled his phone out of his apron pocket and handed it to you. “Number?”

You blinked again. “You’re serious?”

He smirked. “You owe me, remember?”

You reluctantly typed in your number, thumb hovering over the final digit for a moment before committing to it. As you handed his phone back, he leaned in slightly, just close enough that his breath brushed against your cheek.

“Well,” he murmured teasingly, “that was interesting.”

You winced, glancing over your shoulder where your family was still chatting excitedly inside the café. “They get… a little overenthusiastic.”

Jeonghan straightened, grinning because he found the whole thing more amusing than inconvenient. “Yeah,” he said, pocketing his phone, “I can see that.”

You were about to apologize again, but he just waved you off and started heading back inside, leaving you standing there completely dazed.

You shrugged and headed back inside, trying to school your expression. Your dad was reaching for something in his pocket—which you assumed to be his wallet—you hurried over to him. “Dad, did you already pay? If not, I can—”

Before you could finish, your mother cut in with a pleased smile. “No need, darling. It was on the house.”

Your stomach twisted slightly. On the house? You glanced toward the counter, politely excusing yourself from your parents. “I’ll just go… thank someone real quick.”

You made your way to the front, where a woman in a black apron stood, busy typing something into the POS system. You cleared your throat, and she looked up with a kind smile.

“Hi,” you said, “um… is Jeonghan still around?”

“Yes, ma'am,” she said with a nod. “One moment, I’ll call Mr. Yoon.”

You stepped aside, waiting near a shelf of pastries, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of your bag. A few seconds later, you heard footsteps behind you.

“Back so soon?” 

You turned to face him, lowering your voice as you took a small step to the side, away from the counter. “Yeah. Just… I wanted to thank you again, and also to say… about the bill… you really didn’t have to do that. I can pay, honestly. I want to pay.”

He raised an eyebrow, arms folding loosely across his chest. “So you’re saying you want to pay after pretending I was your boyfriend?” You opened your mouth to protest, but he grinned and held up a hand. “Look,” he said, kindly, “it’s on the house. Just consider it my treat—call it payment for the entertainment. All you need to do is show up the day you decide to buy me that coffee.”

You bit your lip, half-smiling despite yourself. “Are you always this stubborn?”

Jeonghan shrugged playfully. “Only when I want something.”

“Okay, thank you. Seriously.” You nodded, finally giving in.

“Anytime.”

You glanced over your shoulder and saw your family was already getting up, chattering excitedly near the door. “I should go,” you said. “They’re probably already planning our wedding.”

Jeonghan laughed at that. “I look forward to hearing all about it.”

You chuckled, stepping back. “I’ll see you soon then. For the coffee.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he said, voice sounding calm and warm.

-

You slumped onto your bed, the towel still wrapped loosely around your shoulders, your hair damp and sticking to the back of your neck. It had been three days since that café incident. Three whole days and not a single text. Why had he taken your number if he wasn’t going to use it?

You sighed and rolled onto your side, staring at the soft glow of your phone screen. Was he just being nice? Had he thought your lie was pathetic and this was his way of backing out gracefully? You groaned and buried your face into the pillow. You owed him a coffee anyway, and maybe it was time to just go to the café tomorrow, buy him the damn drink, apologize again, and vanish from his life forever like the myth you accidentally became.

Just as you were scripting your own disappearance, there was a soft knock at your door.

“Come in,” you mumbled, voice muffled in pillow fluff.

The door creaked open and your mom stepped in, holding a tall glass of milk filled all the way to the brim. She made her way to your bedside table, carefully placing the glass down. “Your hair’s still wet,” she scolded lightly, tsking as she brushed a few strands back. “You’ll catch a cold like this.”

You only just hummed in response to her. Despite your age, despite the adult life you lived outside these walls, your parents still treated you like their little girl. You were only living with them again because your workplace was closer to their house than your apartment, and… because they had missed their only child. You had missed them too.

Your mom sat on the edge of the bed for a second, smoothing the blanket over your legs like she used to when you were small. You glanced at her, at the lines time had etched onto her face, and that stirred a fragile kind of love and bittersweet warmth in your chest. Your parents hadn't had the easiest childhoods. They didn't talk about it much, but you knew. Maybe that was why they tried so hard to give you the life they hadn't gotten, and they did it really well. Your dad, especially, was the reason your standards were sky high. He treated both you and your mom like queens. Not princesses, Queens. He never made either of you feel small, and even when there wasn’t much money, there had always been love and that love felt like a warm blanket fresh out of the dryer.

That was why it had hurt so much when you didn’t listen to them about your ex. They knew he wasn’t right for you, they had seen the signs which you hadn't. You were too in love—or what you thought had been love. Even after it all had come crashing down, your parents didn’t say, I told you so. They didn’t shut you out, instead they pulled you in closer and protected you. They never brought him up again, and just silently patched you up with love, like they always did. You still remembered the way your dad’s jaw had clenched when he had seen you cry, and the way your mom had stroked your hair and pretended not to be crying with you.

You blinked back the sudden sting in your eyes. Your mom patted your thigh, smiling at you like she already knew you had been spiraling before she came in. “Dry your hair properly, okay? And drink the milk.”

You nodded slowly, “Thanks, Mom.”

She got up and walked to the door, pausing before she left. “You’ll be okay, you know. Whatever’s bothering you... it’ll pass.”

You nodded again, because she was always right.

The door clicked shut behind her. You sat up, reached for the milk, and took a sip. You were still annoyed that Jeonghan hadn't texted yet, but maybe tomorrow, you would go see him just to return the gesture. 

You were halfway through your milk and mindlessly scrolling Instagram when a text from an unknown number suddenly lit up your screen.

-

You walked into the café wearing something casual and comfortable which was feminine but not too much, something that still felt put together without trying too hard. You glanced around, your eyes instinctively landing on the floor-to-ceiling windows. The natural light poured in like a warm hug, and you chose a table by the glass, giving you a perfect view of the area outside.

Barely two minutes passed before you spotted him. He was walking toward you, but no apron this time, just a simple outfit that still made him look unfairly good. His hair was slightly tousled, a few strands falling perfectly over his forehead, and there was that ridiculously sweet and disarming smile gracing his lips. He definitely knew the effect he had on people and didn't even try to hide it. 

He stopped in front of you. “I’ve got a better spot for us,” he says softly, nodding for you to follow him.

You stood and trailed behind him as he led you deeper into the café, away from the area you had been in a few seconds ago and into a semi-private space tucked to the side. The vibe was warm soft beige and creamy whites, cozy lighting, and a calm atmosphere that immediately made you feel at home.

Once seated, Jeonghan flashed another smile. “What do you want to order? My treat.”

“But I’m here to treat you, remember?” You said.

“Exactly,” he grinned. “You’re already getting the coffee. Let me at least cover the dessert.”

You started to argue, but he gave you that playfully persuasive look, and insisted until you finally gave in and settled on tiramisu.

The conversation flowed easily after that. You talked about your work, your absurd deadlines, your coworkers’ obsession with bubble tea. He told you stories about running the café chain, how he sometimes snuck into different branches just to work as a barista because he missed the human side of it. There was both laughter and comfortable silences rising between you, and before you knew it, he had completely disarmed you.

Then, as you were taking a sip of your latte, he leaned forward just a bit and said it; softly but with no hesitation. “I think I fell in love with you the first time I saw you.”

You nearly choked on your latte. “W-What?”

He chuckled but didn't take it back. “I’m serious. You were pretty and nervous, trying to save face in front of your family... but there was something about you that just stuck to me.”

Your heart stirred, but not enough to change where it was currently locked away. You set your cup down gently. “Jeonghan, you seem like a good man… and you’re,” you gestured vaguely at him, “well, unfairly handsome, if I'm being honest, but… I’ve closed off that part of my heart for a while, and I’m not ready to open it yet.”

He didn't ask why or pry, he just smiled that same soft understanding smile. “I figured you’d say that. So how about a deal?”

You tilted your head. “A deal?”

“I’ll keep playing the part of your boyfriend anytime your family needs to see me.” He paused, letting the silence stretch. “But you give me 100 days.”

“One hundred days for what?”

“For me to woo you,” he said, eyes gleaming in a way that shook you a little more than you’d like to admit. “No pressure and definitely no expectations, just let me try. That’s all.”

You hesitated, looking down at your hands. “I’m not promising anything, Jeonghan. Like I said, my heart is… closed.” You took a breath, thinking it over; it was too much of a good deal to completely turn down. After a pause, you looked up again. “But I’m not completely closed-minded. If you want to try, you can. Just know I might not change.”

He leaned back with a satisfied smile. “I can work with that.”

You exhaled a soft laugh and nodded. “Alright then. Deal.”

The countdown began.

Two

Day 5 of 100

Your pencil glided across your sketchpad as you worked on a draft for the new balcony design of a hotel lounge. The afternoon light spilled in through the office windows, hitting your page just right as you adjusted the lines of the railing. You were lost in thought, debating whether to go for a rustic wood finish or a sleek glass border when a paper bag was dropped onto your desk with a soft thud.

“Delivery for you,” a coworker said. “From your boyfriend, apparently.”

Before you could even process, Celeste, your best friend and your cousin, launched up from her seat like she had been electrocuted. She didn't even give you a chance to reach for the bag. “Boyfriend?! Excuse me—the fuck do you mean boyfriend?” she exclaimed, already halfway through tearing open the top of the paper bag. “When the hell did you get a boyfriend? I thought you were done with love! You said you were done with love!”

You exhaled sharply, snatching the bag from her hand before she could dig in further. “Cel, can you not violate my lunch?”

“So it is lunch! And it’s from him!” she paused then looked at you accusingly, “who even is him? And why do I not know about this?”

You glanced down, eyebrows raising when you saw a folded note tucked inside, the handwriting a neat scrawl: Don’t skip meals today. — Jeonghan

You honestly weren’t expecting to hear from him after that coffee—maybe in a week or so. So when a paper bag landed on your desk today, the very next day, your brain had to short-circuit. You swallowed, the corners of your lips twitching, and pulled out the lunch box. Inside was a beautifully packed meal—teriyaki chicken with seasoned rice, grilled veggies, and a small matcha cookie tucked in on the side. Your stomach growled on cue.

Celeste was practically bouncing behind you, peering over your shoulder. “You better start talking before I call your mom.”

You rolled your eyes and gestured to her seat. “Sit the fuck down.”

She obeyed, sliding animatedly into her chair, arms crossed. “I’m listening.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Okay, so… remember how my family’s been bugging me to get married for like… two years?”

“Yeah. They’ve been on your ass because it’s their full-time job.”

“Well,” you started, picking up your chopsticks and stabbing a piece of broccoli, “I kind of told them I already had a boyfriend of two years.”

Her eyes widened. “You lied?!”

“I didn’t mean to lie-lie. I just… said a random name, and said he worked at a café.”

“And?”

“And then my parents dragged me to that café.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God—”

“And there actually was a Jeonghan working there.”

She slapped a hand over her mouth. “NO.”

“YES.”

She wheezed.

“And before I could do anything, he walked over, introduced himself to my parents, and I panicked and told them he was my boyfriend.”

Celeste fell sideways in her chair, clutching her chest like it was too much for her weak heart to handle. “This is insane! Keep going.”

You shoved a bite of chicken into your mouth. “Later, I went to apologize to him for the scene and it turns out… he’s the owner of the café chain.”

“What the actual—?!”

“So I took him up on a coffee treat a few days later, and while we were there, he told me he fell in love with me at first sight and made me a deal.” You said and calmly took another bite as Celeste shrieked. “He’ll fake-date me in front of my family whenever I need — in exchange for 100 days to woo me.” Now all you heard is silence, and so you glanced at Celeste, who was staring at you like she just witnessed a plot twist in a K-drama in real life. “…You okay?”

She nodded slowly. “I have never been more emotionally fed in my life.”

You snort. “Well, now get physically fed before I steal your lunch.”

-

Juggling your sketchpad under one arm and your nearly dead phone in your other hand, you found the front door was locked, which was weird because your parents were always home this time of day. Frowning, you unlocked it and pushed the door open.

The first thing you saw was a note, stuck right on the shoe rack in your dad’s familiar handwriting: Buy a bouquet of flowers on your way to your aunt’s. Don’t stay home—come straight there.

Your brows furrowed as you stepped in and dropped your bag. You instinctively reached for your phone to call your mom but of course it had finally died. You stared at it for a few seconds before groaning. With a reluctant sigh, you grabbed your charger for later, locked the door again, and left for your aunt’s.

-

You had expected a cozy dinner with maybe a few people. Instead, you were hit with the sound of dozens of voices the moment you stepped into the front gate. Laughter, chatter, shoes—a mountain of them—outside the door. You walked in and it was everyone. Uncles. Aunts. Cousins you hadn't seen in months. Your second cousin from abroad was there too. It was a family gathering, you realised. You blinked, recovered quickly and offered a polite smile and greeting to anyone who turned toward you. You bowed your head, murmuring ‘Hellos,’ as you shuffled through the familiar hallway, doing your best to keep your confusion hidden.

You finally found your mom in the kitchen, pulling roasted chicken from the oven. She turned around and let out a tiny yelp when she saw you. “Oh— you scared me!”

You immediately reached forward and steadied the pan in her hand. “Sorry! That could’ve burned you.”

She exhaled in relief, then smiled wide. “Everyone’s been waiting for you. Go change and plate the dishes, okay?”

You didn't move. “Wait. What is going on? Why is everyone here? Why didn’t you tell me we were coming here today?”

She looked at you, confused. “I did tell you. I sent you a text this afternoon. I told you we were all coming to celebrate your cousin’s graduation. Everyone’s in town.”

You stared at her, stunned for a moment, then groaned. “Oh my God—I didn’t see it. My phone’s been flooded with client messages and drafts and edits and now it’s dead and—ugh.”

As you were about to turn around and change, your mom gasped, her eyes going wide. “Don’t tell me Jeonghan’s not with you!”

You froze mid-step. “...What?”

“I told the family your boyfriend would be coming too. I wrote it in the text. You didn’t see that either?”

You facepalmed so hard it echoed. “Obviously I didn’t. Why would you tell them he’s coming?!”

“I thought he was! It would be so cute for everyone to meet him tonight.”

Your heart lurched. This is bad, this is very bad. “I’ll fix it,” you muttered and spun on your heel, practically running through the hallway. You darted into a spare room and locked the door behind you and slumped against it for a second. You plugged your phone in and the screen flickered to life. 1% and you didn't wait, your fingers were already flying across the screen as you found Jeonghan’s number and pressed ‘Call.’

“Hey,” his voice came through, warm and a little sleepy.

You didn't let him finish. “Jeonghan, I’m so, so sorry to bother you at this hour—seriously, I wouldn't call unless it was important. Are you busy? Or like… home and maybe willing to go on a sudden field trip?”

He chuckled. “Hey, breathe. What happened?”

You exhaled shakily. “So apparently—my cousin graduated and the entire extended family is at my aunt’s place. My mom had texted me about it but I hadn't seen it because my phone was dying and drowning in work notifications. And now I’m here, and so is everyone.”

“Okaaay…”

“And my mom—bless her—told the whole family you were coming… as my boyfriend.”

There was a beat of silence and you cringed. “So… you want me to come over and save you?”

“YES, Jeonghan. Everyone’s here. My uncles, aunts, their kids, and my mom just dropped, ‘Don’t tell me Jeonghan’s not here with you!’ I’m two seconds away from faking a stomach ache and crawling out the window.” You heard him laugh lightly as you blabbered on. “I’m seriously sorry,” you apologized again, your voice small. “Can you—would you maybe come over? You don’t have to stay long, just… show face, say some sweet things about me, eat a cookie, and then disappear. Please?”

Jeonghan hummed thoughtfully. “Hmm...”

“I’m begging you, Jeonghan. I swear I owe you so much after this. You can blacklist me from your café if you want, I’ll go willingly.”

He laughed again, soft and amused. “You don’t need to beg. I got you. Send me the address.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he said easily. “I told you I’d play the boyfriend whenever you needed me. I’m on my way.”

 “You’re the best. Like actually the best. I owe you dinner, bubble tea, and a kidney.”

“I’ll take the bubble tea. Keep your kidney.”

You were already typing the address with trembling fingers. “On it. Thank you. I mean it.”

“I know,” he teased. “Now hurry up before your aunt tries to set you up with your cousin’s dentist or something.”

You groaned. “Don’t even joke about that.”

He just laughed again, and the call ended. Now, all you had to do was survive the next twenty minutes of nosy relatives until your fake boyfriend-slash-lifeline walked through that door.

So, what was the next best distraction? Your little cousins, of course.

You made your way to the living room where a couple of them were sprawled on the floor playing some weird version of Uno that definitely didn't follow official rules. You crouched beside them and instantly snatched a card from the youngest, who gasped and tried to get it back while shouting, “Unfair! You’re not even playing!”

“That’s because I’m a wildcard,” you smirked, holding the card high above your head while the others laughed. You spent the next few minutes stirring up chaos like, peeking at their cards, mixing up the draw pile, and accusing them of cheating just to mess around. They were yelling at you, but laughing too hard to mean it. It was the perfect distraction from your own nerves for the night.

That was, until you heard footsteps and a familiar voice that made you groan. “Well, well, well... I hear someone’s boyfriend will be here soon.”

You whipped your head around to see Celeste strolling into the room, a smug little smirk curling her lips as she sauntered up to you. She bumped your hip lightly with hers and raised her brows in exaggerated curiosity. You cussed her under your breath through a clenched smile, already bracing yourself. Unfortunately, your aunts were quicker than your panic.

“Oh, he's coming tonight, right?” one piped up from the couch.

“We’ve been dying to meet him!” another added cheerfully, leaning forward.

You internally screamed but plastered on a polite smile. “Yes, he’s… on his way.” Before the interrogation could go any further, you grabbed Celeste's wrist and muttered, “Excuse us,” before dragging her away from the living room crowd, down the hallway and toward a corner near the bathroom. “You’re actually insane,” you hissed once you were alone. “Why would you bring him up?! They were quiet, Celeste. They were probably forgetting!”

Celeste just giggled, “I’m sorry, I had to. You know I’ve been dying to meet the guy who managed to sneak past your titanium heart.”

You groaned and rubbed your forehead. “First of all, you already know it’s not like that. Second of all—okay, listen—this is what happened.” You exhaled and spilled the entire story from start to finish: how your phone had died, how you hadn't read your mom’s text about tonight’s gathering, how she’d apparently told everyone that Jeonghan would be joining, and how you had called him to come save your ass.

Celeste listened wide-eyed and gasped at all the right moments, nodding along. “So he’s at least coming, right?!”

“Yes,” you sighed. “And please don’t make it worse. Don’t act like this is some grand romance. He’s doing me a favor, okay?”

“Mhm,” she hummed with a sarcastic grin. “Of course, of course.”

Before you could smack her with a dish towel, Joshua, her long-term boyfriend, showed up with his usual sweet smile. “Hey, sorry to interrupt the secret meeting,” he said, wrapping an arm around Celeste's waist. “But I’m gonna steal her for a sec. Your mom’s calling you, by the way.”

You nodded and smiled politely at him. “She probably wants to scold me again.”

Joshua chuckled and led Celeste away as you headed back to find your mom. As expected, she was standing by the kitchen counter, hands on her hips. “Did you have to rile up the kids like that?” she asked, though her tone is more bemused than angry.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “They started it.”

“Go plate the dishes,” she said, trying to hide her smile at your childish behaviour. “And behave.”

You grabbed the fried rice and sides, neatly plating them and arranging them on the dining table. The smell was warm and rich and comforting, but it still didn't calm your nerves. 

Ding dong.

You nearly launched yourself down the hallway to the front door, ignoring everyone’s curious glances behind you. There was only one person you were hoping to see on the other side, so you reached for the handle and opened it and—thank god—there he was. Jeonghan; your lifeline for the night. Your heart might have been closed... but damn, it still knew how to skip.

Jeonghan stood tall and effortlessly charming in a beige cardigan over a white shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. A silver chain peeked just slightly from under his collar. He was holding a bouquet: roses and baby’s breath, just like your mom's type, and was wearing a calm smile like he hadn't just agreed to join a family gathering at the last minute.

“You’re… kinda late,” you muttered, your hand still on the doorknob, but your heart was doing somersaults from relief.

He leaned slightly forward, the smile growing. “I brought flowers. That buys me five minutes of forgiveness, right?”

You snorted under your breath and grabbed his wrist, pulling him inside quickly before anyone else saw him and turned this into a press conference, but you knew it was too late when you heard a chorus of gasps and not-so-quiet whispers rise like a wave from the living room.

“Oh, he’s so handsome,” someone whispered.

“Is that him?!”

Your aunt gasped. “He looks just like a celebrity—”

“Is that the Jeonghan?” one of your cousins said in awe.

Jeonghan’s eyes swept over the room politely which happened to be straight ahead from the main door before turning to you with a smug little glint in his eye. “You didn’t tell me it was going to be a fan meeting.”

“Oh come on,” you murmured under your breath, forcing a smile so strained you swore your cheeks might just snap as your relatives descended like hawks circling prey.

He slipped off his shoes, and just as he was about to step onto the wooden floor in his socks, one of your aunts rushed to the door. Her eyes practically sparkled as she beamed at her niece’s so-called ‘secret boyfriend.’ You, the niece who apparently had hidden him away for two years. Without hesitation, she bent down and placed a pair of white guest slippers in front of him. Jeonghan gave her a smile so sweet it could rot teeth, and you realized he'd never be one to falter in charm. You’d admit it, no matter how many times you saw it, he really did have a beautiful smile.

As you both stepped inside, the small herd of kids and elders who had been in the living room just a minute ago, started trailing behind you. You started feeling a little self-conscious. It had been two years since you last dated anyone, and suddenly you couldn't remember how you used to act with Minho, your now ex boyfriend. If you thought about it, two years was a long time; long enough to forget the feel of someone’s hand in yours, or how you used to laugh back then when they were around. But memory had a cruel sense of loyalty, because it never forgot the pain.

How had you even fallen for someone like Minho? Someone who had pursued you first, only to break you later. If you could go back, you’d beg yourself not to say anything that night, to stay strangers.

As you poured Jeonghan a glass of water, your thoughts still swirling, you barely noticed him watching you. He smoothly tugged at the hem of your sleeve, Are you okay? his eyes asked.

You glanced at him and smiled, the smallest shake of your head telling him you were fine, even if you weren't entirely sure it was true.

Just then, your mom appeared in the living room, eyes wide and lit up with relief and happiness when she spotted Jeonghan sitting on the couch. “Oh lord!” she exclaimed, rushing over to you both. “I went to the bathroom for one second—one second, and missed the chance to greet you properly!” Her hands fluttered as she talked, clearly flustered. She was genuinely upset, as though it was absurd that she actually left the moment before Jeonghan rang the bell. The timing was almost too poetic, but that was your mom for you.

She clapped her hands then and ushered everyone to the dining room. “It’s so late now, come on, come on—everyone to the table. Dinner’s ready!”

You and Jeonghan followed her, along with the rest of your extended family. The dining table, of course, wasn't nearly big enough for this many people, so the kids were more than happy to scatter to the living room where the TV held more importance than proper seating.

It was funny how easily you were getting along with Jeonghan. He didn’t seem intimidating when you first met him, but still, you didn’t expect to feel this comfortable around him so soon. This was only the third time you had seen him in person, and yet it felt like you had known him longer. Too long maybe, and too close too fast. You had learned your lesson the hard way. You try not to get attached to people anymore, or at least not easily or carelessly like you did before. And yet... here you were, telling yourself he was just a friend. A good one, sure—genuine, polite, naturally teasing in a way that didn't sting. Like just now, when he handled your relatives’ questions with ease. It made you wonder if he had rehearsed all this in front of a mirror.

They were asking him how you two had met, or, to rephrase it correctly—how he had met the love of his life, as one particularly nosy aunt put it. He was smooth with his answers though, like he had been back at the café when he first met your parents. His voice was calm, a smile curved so sincere, and in some way, every word he said sounded real like it actually had happened. You blinked, trying to hold onto the moment, because truth be told, nothing like what he was saying ever had happened with Minho; not even close. That boy never even tried, and still, despite all the pain he had left you with, despite the way he did you dirty and walked away without a shred of guilt, he still lived rent-free in the back of your mind.

You glanced back at Jeonghan, now answering what he did for a living and why he never had appeared by your side before. His words were golden, the kind that had your relatives gushing and giggling. Words that belonged in fairy tales. But he was no prince, and those stories didn't exist in real life. 

You sighed, picking at the little pile of broccoli on the edge of your plate. You hated broccoli. No matter how it was cooked, it tasted so bitter, bitter like betrayal. But you ate it anyway because your mom would scold you if you didn't. So you pushed through, chewing your fourth and final piece like a true soldier that you were. What you did love, however, was carrots. Carrots were divine. And apparently, Jeonghan had taken notice of that.

Just as you were about to take another bite, two sets of chopsticks appeared over your rice bowl at the exact same time, both holding out perfectly cooked carrot slices. You paused, blinking, your eyes following the utensils back to their owners. Your dad. And Jeonghan.

Smiling, you glanced at your father first, but he wasn't looking at you. He was looking at Jeonghan—with a raised brow and that intimidating dad stares only fathers like yours could master. You shifted your eyes to Jeonghan next. He met your gaze, smiled still gently as ever, and dropped the carrot into your bowl before lowering his chopsticks. He didn't even flinch under your dad’s stare. Your father held his gaze for another second, then, wordlessly, added his carrot to your bowl too.

Shy and oddly happy, you pulled your rice bowl closer to your face, half hiding behind it, trying to focus on eating so no one saw your flustered expression. The table erupted into hushed chuckles including your mom, because she couldn't help herself but to throw marriage blessings your way. People nodded and laughed, and soon everyone shifted focus back to their food, making sure neither you nor Jeonghan felt awkward. 

But in the middle of it all, there was one thing no one noticed.

The small, soft smile curved at the corner of your father’s lips. Because no matter how much of a threat Jeonghan might have seemed in this little game of hearts, to your father—you had always been his little queen.

-

After dinner, everyone began clearing the table, piling dishes into the sink. Thankfully, dishwashing duties didn't fall under your job description in this house. You were technically a guest too, at least that was the excuse you clung to as you quietly tiptoed away from the mess.

You glanced at the clock. It was well past midnight.

That was when it hit you, you hadn't seen Jeonghan in a while, and worse, you hadn't even offered to walk him out yet. The man probably had sacrificed his peaceful night’s sleep just to show up at your family gathering and play pretend boyfriend. The least you could do was make sure he got home safe and as early as possible… or at least wasn't cornered by another round of interrogation.

You wandered through the halls, gently pushing open doors until you found him sitting cross-legged on the floor of the guest room, now completely claimed by your little cousins and their stuffed animals. You blinked, quietly leaning against the doorframe. He looked oddly at peace there, in a room filled with cartoon blankets and sticky fingers.

One of your younger cousins was enthusiastically chatting with him. “So my birthday is next month!” the little boy said, eyes bright. “You have to come, okay?”

Seriously, how does he do that? Kids, moms… even aunties? God. It’s actually scary how easy it is to like him, you wondered. Jeonghan gave him a soft smile, but you could read the hesitation on his face. He was trying to be polite, trying to find a way to decline without crushing tiny dreams. “That sounds fun,” he said slowly, “but I might need to check with—”

Before he could finish, your cousin cut in with an easy solution. “You can just come with Y/N! You’re her boyfriend, duh. You have to come!”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, but before he could respond, you stepped in from the door and cleared your throat. “Alright, birthday boss,” you said with a playful smile. “Jeonghan’s going to be super busy that day, okay? You’ll have to deal with just me.”

Your cousin looked disappointed for a beat before shrugging with a sigh, “Fine… but please at least don't annoy me that day ”

“Deal,” you said, laughing, as you gestured for Jeonghan to follow you out.

He rose, and followed you through the hallway. You led him around the corner of the house, to the narrow balcony space near the laundry room, just private enough without being suspicious.

He quirked an eyebrow at you that resulted in you giving him a dry look. “What?”

“You really won’t let me come to his birthday?” he queried, lips tilting with amused defiance. “I’ll clear my schedule for the kiddo if that’s what it takes to make my pretend girlfriend’s family happy.”

“You looked uncomfortable. I thought you’d want an easy out.”

“I was uncomfortable because I didn’t know if you were okay with me going,” he said honestly, voice softer. “But if you are, I want to come. It’s not a bother.”

Caught slightly off guard, you tried to blink it away, “I’ll… think about it,” you murmured 

“Fair,” he said, leaning against the wall. “So, what’d you really pull me aside for?”

“Oh, I was just gonna tell you to head out before someone tried to chain you to the dining table with dessert.” He snorted, and you glanced at him again, your voice dropping more to the soft range. “Thanks for coming, though. I’m sorry I called last minute and dragged you into this. You were probably asleep, weren’t you?”

“About to be,” he admitted with a laugh. “But it’s okay. I told you, didn’t I? If you ever need saving, just say the word.”

You didn't respond right away, instead you just smiled before whispering, “Let me walk you out.” 

He nodded, and turned to walk toward the front door, but just as he was about to reach for the handle, he paused and glanced back. “Where are your parents?” he asked, almost like he just realized he should say goodbye properly.

You tilted your head, scanning the hallway. “They’re probably… somewhere.”

He didn't take your vague answer, though, so he disappeared back down the hall, and a minute later, you heard familiar voices of your mom’s tone and your dad’s low chuckle and then, Jeonghan’s goodbye. Your aunt insisted he stay the night, even offering him an extra toothbrush and spare pajama set, but Jeonghan politely declined, because of course, he knew what was appropriate and what was not.

Still, your mom told him to come by their house sometime, which also happened to be your living space too. He promised he would, and then finally, walked back to the front door where you were waiting for him.

You caught his eyes one last time and bid, “Goodnight, Jeonghan.”

He gave you a little salute as he walked out of the door. “Goodnight.”

You watched as he stepped outside into the quiet of the night, and then you closed the door behind him with a soft click.

Three

Day 8 of 100

You had hoped this would be your winning year. You had landed the job you had always dreamed of, and now, there was a business trip to Italy; something you had kept on your vision board for years. It felt like everything was aligning at last, but luck never played fair. You had misunderstood the timeline because you had thought the trip would be next month. Turns out, it was this week—right on your mother's 45th birthday.

The company was sponsoring everything—flights, accommodations, even the visa. In return, you and your team would be working on a high-level project that could redefine your career portfolio. It was an opportunity you’ve only dreamed of, and yet, here you were, sitting in front of your laptop with the screen glowing in your dim room, torn between the offer and a woman who meant the world to you. You had been planning her birthday for so long. You had wanted this year to be extravagant, joyful, and different. She had always put everyone else first, and this time, you had wanted her to feel like the star of the world.

Your heart ached. Of course, your mother’s happiness was more important than any job title, any overseas project. You were already drafting a polite email to decline the offer when a soft knock tapped on your door.

She entered, holding a glass of milk, wearing that same smile that always reached you before her words did. "I got the mail from your company earlier," she said, sitting on the edge of your bed. "I opened it by mistake, but... I know it's about your trip to Italy." You stayed quiet, already knowing where this was headed. “I know you’re worried about my birthday,” she continued, offering the glass to you. “But listen to me. This trip is important. You’ve worked so hard for this moment, so don’t let it go just because you want to buy me a cake and hang some balloons.”

“Mom, it’s not just a cake and balloons. I wanted to do something big this year. You deserve that,” you whispered.

“Sweetheart, I don’t need big. I just need to know you’re happy and that you’re doing what you love. That’s enough of a gift for me.” You lowered your gaze, hands wrapped around the warm glass. “Go to Italy,” she said firmly. “Prioritize your future. You can celebrate with me next year, or the year after. But right now, it’s your time.”

You nodded, giving up. “Okay… I’ll go.”

She kissed your forehead, a gesture that still made you feel like a child wrapped in safety. And as she left, you sat back, gulping the milk, your heart swelling.

You would always count your stars that she had chosen to be yours, that she was the one you got to call, Mom. Your life had been stitched with love since the moment you were born, her heartbeat syncing with yours. Everything you were, and everything you would become, was because of her, and because of them; your parents. For their love, their sacrifices, their endless belief in your dreams. You were you… because of them.

Just as you were lost in that warm pool of gratitude, your mother broke the silence again. “So… is Celeste going with you?”

You shook your head slightly, “no, she’s not. She’s already involved in another project. It’ll probably just be me and a few others from the team.”

Your mother hummed, nodding. “And… does Jeonghan know?”

You let out a light exhale. “Not yet. I’ll tell him once it’s finalized.”

There was a moment of pause before she spoke again. “You know,” she began with a familiar lilt, “Jeonghan… I really like him. He’s the best boyfriend you’ve had so far. It’s a mother’s instinct.” She chuckled at her own words like she always did when she said something she believed was completely obvious.

You blinked, looking at her, lips parting with a small smile. There was a wave of relief washing over you, because who knew the random name you nervously muttered would actually turn out to be attached to someone like Jeonghan who was decent, polite, respectful. Not a creep. “Yeah,” you muttered, glancing down. “He’s… nice.”

You knew your mother was right, because every boyfriend you had, you ended up walking away from for one reason or another. But when it came to Minho, your parents were obsessively against the relationship, and still, you didn’t care. You didn’t listen. You were too blinded by a love that you now knew was never truly mutual.

Minho was the only man you genuinely, wholeheartedly fell in love with. You dared admit—no one else ever came close. You loved him in a way that scared you, you loved him in a way that consumed you, and yet… he made you so sad.

He was a fucking terrible person, and yet, you loved him more than anyone deserved to be loved if they were going to treat someone the way he treated you. You remembered the nights he left your messages on read, the way he made you feel like your needs were too much, like your softness was some kind of burden he had to bear. You remembered holding your breath during phone calls, hoping today he wouldn’t be in one of his moods, laced with that mockery he always passed off as jokes.

He didn’t scream or break things, but he broke you in pieces so small you didn’t even notice at first. Little digs at your work, guilt-tripping you for being emotional, never showing up when it actually mattered—when you were sick, when your dad was hospitalized, when you cried and said I really need you right now. And he didn’t come. You were fucking dying inside and he didn’t show up. You still remembered how small you felt clutching your phone, praying he would text, but he didn’t. And when he finally did, it was something so simple like, Did you eat? Like he hadn’t gone missing for days, like he didn’t just leave you all alone to drown in pain that he had promised to be there for.

You knew you deserved better, but you didn’t want better. You wanted him to be better. And that was your downfall, because you held onto hope, onto potential, onto memories from the beginning, when he was kind and sweet and said things like I’ve never met anyone like you. But all of that turned to dust the moment you looked closely. He won you over with his words, but it was his actions that made you walk away.

Your parents begged you to let go. Your friends tried to shake some sense into you, but love didn't always listen to reason, and you… you were stupid in love. And now, looking back, the part that hurt most was how long you stayed naive, how long you let him stay in your life, how long you made excuses for him when he didn’t deserve a single one. You hated him, but you hated yourself more for loving him.

Snapping you back, your mother took the empty glass from your hands as she stood up. “Get some sleep, okay?”

You nodded, offering a ‘Goodnight’ before she walked out and closed the door behind her.

Without even glancing back at your laptop or your skincare shelf, you pushed yourself off the bed, trudged into the bathroom, brushed your teeth half-asleep, and threw yourself onto the mattress as soon as you were done.

- 

Your manager in charge was a certified piece of shit. There was no other way to put it. He had been dumping a mountain of unnecessary workload on you for the last three days, which was an obvious attempt to wear you down before the Italy project even began. You know his type; a man who thought women were only good for pretty presentations and coffee runs. It was disgusting. It got under your skin in ways you couldn't even articulate without gritting your teeth.

Right then, he was yelling, loud and pointless. Screaming at you for things that weren't even part of your damn job description—the audacity. Beside you stood Celeste and Seungkwan, both fuming in silence. Their fists were clenched so tightly, you were convinced their fingernails were permanently embedded into their palms. From the corner of your eye, you could see them both with their heads lowered, trying not to explode, but you knew them. If it weren’t for their upcoming promotions hanging in the balance, Seungkwan would’ve already flattened that pitiful nose into something even more pathetic, and Celeste would've kicked him where the sun didn't shine. God bless their restraint. If what they had worked so hard for wasn't hanging by a thread, they would've already thrown hands right there, right then, in front of HR, God, and everyone, and they wouldn’t even have regretted it. They would've walked to the police station whistling.

Just when you thought the day couldn't get any more heated, the CEO walked in. Mrs. Kim. Your boss’s boss. The actual authority in the building; a woman. The very species your manager seemed to despise with his whole shriveled heart, and maybe that was why he was divorced and hadn't gotten laid since forever.

She walked in, looked at the three of you, then her eyes moved to the manager. “What’s going on here?”

Before any of you could speak, he jumped in, sugarcoating everything, and hearing his version of events, how he was ‘just trying to guide his team to success’ made all three of you visibly nauseous.

Seungkwan was the first to speak, voice sweet as syrup but sharp as a knife. “Oh, yes, we're definitely being guided.”

That statement with that tone, made the CEO raise a brow. Celeste didn't wait, she stepped in calmly and confidently. “We understand deadlines, but lately the amount of off-task work being pushed onto us has started affecting the actual projects we’re assigned to. It’s just becoming difficult to prioritize what’s actually important.” She didn't whine or plead, she simply spoke facts with clarity and class.

Mrs. Kim turned to the manager, “why are they doing extra work that doesn’t align with their primary responsibilities? These three are handling a high-level project—one that has international visibility. I expect their full energy to be focused on that.” The manager sputtered, trying to defend himself, but Mrs. Kim shut it down gracefully, yet firmly. “Respect your team. Don’t misuse their time because you misunderstand their value. Let this be the last conversation we have about this.”

A girl’s girl, through and through. A CEO who got it, and as she walked away, Seungkwan muttered under his breath, “I’d die for her.” You didn't even have the strength to laugh, because you were too busy mentally high-fiving her in your head.

Your manager in charge still didn't look remotely ashamed, just let out an ignorant sigh and shooed the three of you away like he was the victim, but whatever, you were too tired to deal with male mediocrity right then, so you just complied.

On the way back to your desks, Seungkwan leaned closer and threw a “Lunch date?” your way. It was actually pretty normal and nothing new. Platonic lunch dates were kind of your and Seungkwan's thing—matching eye rolls and stealing each other’s fries. Celeste might have been your closest cousin, and your ride-or-die since childhood, but Seungkwan was your bestie, your lunch break soulmate, the lawless good to your tired neutral. Who said you needed only one close person when life handed you more than one decent human being?

You nodded at his offer and plopped back into your seat, immediately drawn to the growing pile of papers on your desk, the ones about the Italy trip and your high-profile project. You uncapped your signature green pen [because black and blue are for amateurs] and started scribbling notes. Mid-marking, your phone buzzed, and without thinking, you assumed it was your mom because who else would it have been at that hour aside from Celeste or Seungkwan—and they were right there, but no, it wasn't your mom. It was Jeonghan.

He was asking if you were free for lunch. You glanced at Seungkwan, who was already halfway through planning his order in his head, you texted back.

You smiled. Sipped the lukewarm coffee from your desk, and went back to highlighting your to-do list.

-

Seungkwan scanned the menu and orders a burger that was apparently ‘new and calling his name’. He recommended the same one to you, so you checked the picture on the menu and yeah, you weren't not gonna lie, it did look scrumptious.

He immediately started ranting about how he was on a diet and how Vernon didn't diet with him, and how that clearly meant Vernon didn't love him enough.

You laughed right in his face. “Vernon doesn’t need to starve himself to prove he loves you, babe.”

Seungkwan glared but sulked in silence, grumbling about how he was probably just in ‘male menstruation mode.’

You took a bite of your burger—he wasn’t wrong, it was divine. But before you could get too far, Seungkwan nearly spat out his iced americano as something suddenly went through his head, “Okay, so Celeste told me you have a boyfriend now? Since WHEN? You literally said, and I quote, ‘I’m done with love.’ Like, girl, what?!”

You gave him a look and shrugged. “You should know better than to believe Celeste with her three and a half brain cells.”

But the truth was, you did say that. Two years ago, drunk off your ass, crying over an asshole, bawling into Celeste’s shoulder, snot and all, swearing off love because it was a contagious disease, and you meant every single thing back then. Part of you still did, you didn't believe love was for you.

You sighed and finally explained what really happened; how Jeonghan became your boyfriend. Fake boyfriend to be, and how Jeonghan, saint that he was, actually agreed to play along.

Seungkwan stared at you for a solid five seconds, then: “Girl… I want to judge you, but I’m weirdly impressed.”

You just groaned and plopped back in your chair, sipping the last of your watered-down coffee.

He then asked if you were going to the team building party that week. “Obviously,” you said, “you think I’d miss out on free food and gossip?” He snorted, satisfied with your, you kinda answer, and the two of you finished up lunch before heading back to the office.

You buried yourself in paperwork, prepping everything for the Italy trip. Your green pen glided across the documents—marking the hotel addresses, underlining budget breakdowns, drawing tiny stars next to notes. You were so into the zone that you didn't notice when your work chat pinged. It was from the front desk. The CEO wanted to see you.

You low-key froze because that was a big deal. It wasn't not everyday the CEO called you up, and while she wasn't the biting-heads-off type, it was still nerve-wracking.

You climbed the stairs—the elevators were reserved for upper management at that time of the day. Classism at its finest. You rolled your eyes, like, please, how much money was the company really saving by keeping one elevator out of use? It was giving ��penny-pinching villain arc’.

Finally, you reached her office, knocked politely, and heard a warm, come in.

You entered, instantly wrapped in that elegant aura Mrs. Kim always carried. She was poised, sharp, and always smelled like fresh roses and justice; a woman you wanted to write poems about. She smiled. “Have a seat.” You did—respectfully, obediently. She was the boss for a reason.

You’d always admired her, but not just for her presence, but for how she consistently sided with the employees whenever an overzealous senior acted out of line, e.g. like that morning. She knew you by face, name, and the quality of your work, though your interactions had mostly been limited to the occasional office circus or passing greetings in the hallway. 

She started, “I know you’ve been reviewing the design documentation for the Italy project,” and you nodded. You updated her on what you’d done so far: layout revisions, material specs, budget adjustments—everything. She nodded along, then sighed lightly. “I’m sorry to throw this at you, but I wanted to speak to you directly. There’s a new assignment,” she paused before continuing again. “I know it’s not what you signed up for right now,” she said, “but a very important client specifically requested you for a new project. He saw your portfolio and won’t take no for an answer.” She continued, “It’s a bar. Both interior and exterior design. He wants it done by you, and only you.”

Men and their obsession with being picky, you muttered in your head.

“But,” she added, “you won’t have to start until after the Italy trip. The schedule is flexible, the budget is very accommodating… and he’s paying double your usual fee.”

Now that caught your attention. “Okay,” you said slowly, “I’ll happily consider it once I check the brief and make sure I’m actually capable of delivering what he wants. I’ll speak to my manager—”

She stopped you there. “Actually, no. You won’t need to discuss it with him. It’s already been approved. The details will be sent once you return from Italy.”

Huh? You nodded, but your brain was half-screaming. This sounded a little too good to be true; great pay, great flexibility, total creative freedom—but no option to say no, and no brief until you’re back? Yeah. Red flag. He might have been rich, but he was still giving mild bastard energy. Still, you nodded again. “Understood.”

You thanked her, left the room, and walked back to your desk. At least the pay was great, all was well for now.

Day 10 of 100

You were wearing a silk ivory blouse with a subtle sweetheart neckline, tucked into high-waisted slate-grey tailored trousers that hugged your waist just right. Over that, a light beige trench coat draped you, the sleeves slightly pushed up to show off your simple silver bracelet. You had paired the outfit with pointed-toe nude heels, pearl stud earrings, and your hair was done in a half-up loose twist, soft waves cascading down your back. You were so glad you had worn something put together that day. After successfully convincing Seungkwan to switch your lunch date with Celeste instead, with the promise of paying for dessert next time, you headed out of the office with a slight skip in your step. You strolled down the pavement, one hand in your coat pocket, the other holding your phone with Jeonghan’s pinned location glowing on the screen. You finally arrived, stopped and gaped.

The restaurant in front of you was stunning. Soft cream stonework, vines grew over the edges of a wooden pergola, delicate white drapes danced with the wind. There was outdoor seating bathed in golden sunlight; the whole vibe screamed expensive, and summer-soft. 

You were too caught up in soaking in the place to notice footsteps approaching, until a voice leaned over your right shoulder. “You like it?”

You jolted and instinctively, you stepped back and pivoted to your left, hand brushed against the edge of your coat as you turned to face the source of the surprise. “Jesus, you scared me!” you half-laughed, pressing a hand to your chest as you exhaled.

Jeonghan, in a light blue linen shirt tucked into beige trousers, grinned down at you. “Sorry,” he chuckled, “wasn’t trying to scare you.”

The sunlight kissed your cheekbones as you smiled, a little breathless from the jump scare. But Jeonghan, he went completely still. His smile faded, but not in a bad way, but in a speechless kind of awe. His gaze softened, eyes lingering on you, trying to memorize every detail: your earrings catching light, how your blouse moved with the breeze, the way you’re smiling not even knowing what you were doing to him.

You waved your hand in front of his face. “Hello? Earth to Jeonghan? Are you good?”

He cleared his throat, finally snapping out of whatever trance he had been in. “Right—yeah. Sorry. You just…” He scratched the back of his neck, then held out a bouquet wrapped in rustic white paper—pale pink roses and sprigs of baby’s breath peeking out. “…You look beautiful.” 

You took the flowers, smiled, but not bashful or not giddy, just unfazed; you refused to let any man, no matter how sweet or charming or kind-eyed, have that kind of effect on you again. You had spent too long rebuilding yourself, too long sealing every crack Minho had left behind, and you were not about to let someone slip through them again just because he smelled good and brought you flowers. So you didn't blush anymore, there was no blush creeping up your cheeks but your ears betrayed you. The tips of your ears were red as fuck.

Jeonghan led you to one of the umbrella-covered tables nestled beneath the sunlight, which filtered just enough to feel warm, not harsh. The breeze was soft, carrying the scent of fresh herbs and baked bread. It felt really like a European afternoon even though it was just noon here, but you let yourself enjoy it.

He pulled your chair out like a proper gentleman, and for a second, your breath caught but because of the wrong reason; your ex used to do that too. But you shook the thought off. This wasn't Minho, not everything needed to circle back to him. This is just a nice gesture, you told yourself. A decent man doing a decent thing.

You settled in. Jeonghan smiled and gestured toward the menu. “Order what you want,” he said, resting his chin on his hand, watching you with the smile he always seemed to carry.

When the waiter came, you ordered with a small smile, “Can I get the smoked salmon sandwich with scrambled eggs, and a vanilla iced latte?”

The waiter nodded and Jeonghan chimed in, “Same for me. And can you add a basket of your warm mini scones too? Thanks.”

Your gaze shifted to him, taking him in again. He was dressed well. It wasn't a suit, but it was still effortlessly stylish. Still, you couldn't help but chuckle internally—he ran a café chain, you had expected suits and ties like a K-drama CEO 24/7 but everytime you saw him, his aura was of a human, of a nice man.

The silence settled in as the waiter walked away, and it was kinda awkward. Not bad, just not easy either. You fidgeted slightly with your napkin and broke the silence, “By the way, I forgot to thank you the other day at my aunt’s place… thanks for sending lunch to my office. That was really sweet.”

Jeonghan tilted his head, brushing it off with a soft chuckle. “It’s no big deal. Like I said… I’m wooing you, remember? That means I’ll do things like that. You’re my love interest now.” He said it with a teasing smile, but the sincerity didn't go unnoticed.

You bit the inside of your cheek, unsure how to respond for a second. “I mean… you can do whatever you want,” you murmured, eyes going to the complimentary glass of water. “It’s just—like I said before, my heart’s kinda… closed. I’m not really looking for anything, so… I don’t want you to be disappointed if I don’t change my mind.”

He nodded. “I get that. But I said I’d try. We made a deal, and I still have… what, 90 days?” he grinned. “Just let me do what I want. No pressure.”

You nodded again, this time shyer. “Okay…”

Another short silence followed, but Jeonghan filled it with a question. “So how’s work been?”

“Oh, I’m heading to Italy for a project. It’s sort of a business trip but I’m hoping I can sneak in some vacation time.”

His eyebrows raised slightly, impressed. “ Italy? Fancy.”

You nodded, stirring your straw. “Yeah. I’m excited but… I was supposed to celebrate my mom’s birthday this week with her. And now I won’t be here, which sucks.” You looked at him hesitantly. “Would you mind… joining a video call with her? Just to wish her a happy birthday with me. She really likes you and it’d make her smile.”

Jeonghan didn't even hesitate for a second. “Of course, and you don’t need to ask if I’d like to do something for you,” resting his elbows on the table, he leaned slightly forward. “The answer will always be yes. So don’t think twice. Just tell me.”

That might have been the nicest thing anyone’s said to you in a while. The waiter returned with your food, placing the plates in front of you. The sandwiches were golden and buttery, eggs perfectly soft. The smell alone made you sigh.

Jeonghan clasped his hands. “Let’s dig in, shall we?”

After brunch, Jeonghan insisted on giving you a ride back to the office. His car, already parked earlier before he stepped into the restaurant, sat sleek and waiting. You remembered how he'd found you standing there, mouth parted in awe at the view of the restaurant—now it made sense, he’d arrived early whereas you walked there. He drove a black Audi A8 L, and everything about it, from the glossy sheen to the whisper-quiet engine, spoke of understated luxury. Being the owner of chains, you always assumed he was very well-off, but after sitting in his leather-wrapped cabin, there was no doubt—he was rich rich. Not just wealthy, but smelled polished and wealthy too.

The ride was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. He talked to you about small things, light things. He mentioned how he wanted to do more for you, soon, once a little more time had passed.

You were a woman of few words, and he respected that. You didn't say much, but you were already... comfortable. Being around him felt like sunlight through a window, warm and golden; wrapped in a blanket still carrying the warmth and scent of the sun on a winter morning.

Back at the office, time passed like pages fluttering in a breeze, and soon, it was almost time to leave for the evening’s team building party. You had missed the last one because of a fever, but that night, you were ready. Those nights, especially with Celeste and Seungkwan by your side, always promised laughter and fun. They were the most fun people to be around at parties.

-

Your body reacted before your mind caught up, and you moved back, a step, maybe two. The closer this man came, the more your instincts coiled tightly within. A breath's space became half a step, then a full one. Your fingers curled tightly around your purse strap, your throat drying with each beat of the music thudding like a war drum in your chest. You were disgusted to say the least. 

Celeste had vanished into the crowd, tipsy and gleeful, her laughter now a memory swallowed by bass and bodies. Seungkwan was in the restroom, and you whispered silent prayers into the air. Please come back. Now. Please. But instead, he came closer.

His breath reeked of alcohol and something sourer; bitterness, maybe. The look in his eyes was familiar, kind of that once stripped you of peace. "You look good," he sneered, lips twisted, voice drenched in mockery.

You felt it then: rage, disgust, and fear rising from the pit of your stomach. "Shut the fuck up," you stepped back again. "Don’t touch me."

He ignored it like he always did. His feet shuffled closer, lazily. Your back brushed against a counter. You were running out of space. “I’ve been thinking about us,” he slurred. “We can fix this. You know we can.”

You almost laughed, but your voice trembled like a blade. “You broke everything. You ruined me. You fucking hollowed me out and smiled about it.” Still no tears spilled, they hung in your eyes.

He tilted his head mockingly. “Still dramatic, I see.”

“I was miserable with you.” Each of your words was a stone hurled. “You gaslit me, degraded me, manipulated every breath I took and still had the gall to call it love.” Your voice rose the more you speak. “You were a fucking asshole. Are a fucking asshole.”

That was when his expression shifted, something flashed in his eyes; violence barely contained, he moved faster. With a growl, he swooped in, his arm slamming against yours, pinning it down to the counter behind you. The marble was cold beneath your skin. His hand caged your wrist. You're leaned back, your spine arching slightly, nowhere to run. His body hovered far too close, and that was when the tears began to spill.

He leaned in until his breath warmed your cheek. “Those words… they don’t suit your pretty little mouth,” he whispered with a sneer. Then, his fingers gripped your face, cruelly and crudely, pressing your cheeks together, forcing your lips into a shape you didn't own. “Who is it, huh?” His voice was poison dipped in curiosity. “Who are you fucking now, since it’s not me?”

Your limbs shook but your spine stayed straight. Somewhere in the haze of lights and laughter, his friends—if you could call them that—stood at a distance, watching, and laughing. Your pain was once again, another kind of entertainment.

All you were hoping now was for someone in this sea of people, to be decent enough. Just one man with a spine, a conscience, something resembling a soul.

Or, God, let Celeste or Seungkwan find you. Because if they saw this… If they saw your trembling form pinned, tears running down your cheeks, your lips being forced into a shape not your own; hell wouldn’t just break loose, it would bleed.

Celeste would have turned into a beast, rage that ripped through bone and skin with heels sharp enough to slice throats and a fury only a woman can wield after watching her sister break. She’d scream murder, tear at his face like it was paper, her nails dragging blood down his cheek, down his pride. She’d laugh while doing it, vengeful and beautiful.

And Seungkwan—he’d see red, nothing but red. He wouldn’t stop until someone dragged him off, until every punch left a mark, until the bastard begged on his knees with his face bloated and black. He’d spit down on him.You touch her again, and I’ll break every single one of your fingers until you forget how to be a man.

But they weren't here.

Just as he was about to forcefully kiss you while your head was twisting away but his hand trying to clamp your jaw still, trying to oppress you to submit; he’s suddenly gone.

Pushed hard, a weight crashed against the floor with a hollow thud. Your breath caught, chest was rising and falling in erratic jolts. You barely registered what had happened, but then, your eyes met his. That face etched in concern, eyes gentle for a moment until they flicked down to the filth on the floor. Then they shifted to rage again; controlled.

The man on the ground groaned, his ego bruised deeper than his spine, tried to get up, but he crouched beside him with chilling ease. Fingers reached out and plucked the name tag pinned to the bastard’s chest. “Park Minho,” he murmured like a curse.

Minho snarled. “Who the fuck are you to mess with me?” His fist launched but his hand moved faster, catching it mid-air, holding it steady, not violently but commandingly.

“Jeonghan. Her boyfriend.”

Minho lunged again, but this time, Jeonghan didn't flinch. He just moved, twisting enough to let the man’s weight tip himself off balance, and that’s when the owner rushed in. The music cut off, lights flashed red and blue outside the sheer window. Police.

“Mr. Yoon, I’m so sorry,” the bar owner panted, glancing between Jeonghan and the wreck on the floor. “I had no idea he would—he’s fired. He’s done. He’ll never work here again.” Two officers grabbed Minho by the arms, he thrashed, cursed, but it was over.

You didn't even realize your legs had given out earlier, until Jeonghan was kneeling before you. You were on the floor, knees scraped, mascara streaked, eyes wide and blank. He said nothing at first, just held your arms gently. He picked you up, but your head fell on his shoulder. Then you started shaking. Sobs erupted, no longer contained. You clutched at his shirt, trembling, your soul was trying to crawl out of your body.

Jeonghan pulled you closer, one hand on the back of your head, the other around your back. He rocked you gently, a murmur at your ear. “It’s okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” His voice was low, raw, not above a whisper. “I’ll always protect you. No one will ever lay a finger on you again.” He kissed the side of your head, his breath trembling along yours, too. “If anyone dares touch you again—if anyone dares hurt you—I’ll bury them myself. I don’t care if my hands get bloody. I will end them for you.”

You didn't answer, not because you couldn't, but because words felt too fragile to carry the weight of what just happened and what he said. The lights spun like distant planets and the crowd hummed around you, oblivious and indifferent. He was achingly kind, his shoulder was there, warm, a borrowed sanctuary in the aftermath. You were grateful, but you didn't want to be seen by anyone like this right now. Your voice was small, trembling only at the edges. “I want to be alone… I don’t want to see you right now. But… thank you.” You didn't meet his eyes.

Everything had happened in the span of ten minutes, but to you, it felt like ten years; slow, stretched, jagged. Time warped cruelly in the dark, by then the din had drawn others. You heard them before you saw them—your coworkers murmuring, shifting, clustering like confused birds after a storm, and then, Celeste appeared.

Disheveled, tipsy, and horrified, she rushed forward and dropped to the ground beside you, wrapping you in the scent of vanilla and liquor and the desperate ache of guilt. Her arms pulled you away from him and into the safety of her embrace. “I’m sorry,” she whispered over and over, stroking your hair like you were a breakable glass. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left. I shouldn’t have disappeared.”

Jeonghan, who was silent and observant, took a step back. He didn't fight your decision. He just watched from a respectful distance, assessing the new guardian that had taken his place. Her eyes were glassy, and even in her inebriated haze, she was more present than most sober men here ever were. “Is there someone I can trust,” Jeonghan asked the crowd, scanning, “to take both of them home?”

A voice rose from the group, mostly from her coworkers that had been present at the party. “Seungkwan. He didn’t drink, so he’s probably the best to—”

Jeonghan was already walking toward the assumed coworker. “Who is Seungkwan?” he asked, tone neutral but outlined with the protectiveness of a man who didn't want to hand over what he’d just protected, to a stranger. And as if conjured by name, he arrived.

His knees hit the ground the moment he saw you slumped against Celeste. His hands trembled as he reached out, stopping himself just before touching you, as if your pain might be contagious. He looked at you, then at Celeste, then at the space around, putting the pieces together without a single word being spoken. His expression hardened into pure fury concealed beneath tight control. “What the fuck happened here?!” His voice cracked through the air. “Tell me who the hell did this. Tell me, and I swear on every grave beneath this city—I will tear him apart with my own hands.” His fists curled. “I’ll fucking gut that bastard and bury what’s left. You think I won’t? You think I can’t? I’ll make it look like an accident and sleep just fine at night.”

Celeste flinched but reached out a hand to him, still cradling you. “Kwan… please. Just wait.”

But Jeonghan had seen enough of this, so he stepped forward in careful assessment. He laid a hand on Seungkwan’s shoulder. Seungkwan’s gaze dropped to the hand as if it was an insult. He didn't look up for three full seconds. He was waiting for a response from Jeonghan, and Jeonghan spoke before that moment died. “Do you have a girlfriend? Or do you like either of them?”

The question felt abrupt, even intrusive, but Jeonghan knew better than to let two emotionally unstable women be left in the care of someone who might have had complicated feelings for them. It wasn't a call to be made lightly, and certainly not one a level-headed man like him would ignore.

Seungkwan’s eyes flashed from the implication, his jaw locked, blood rising to his eyes, but before the storm erupted—“This is Jeonghan,” Celeste cut in hoarsely. “And Seungkwan has a boyfriend.”

There was a pause, then a shared oh between the two men; mutual clarity, and just like that, Jeonghan stepped away, surrendering you both into the care of someone he now deemed safe.

Celeste informed, “I called Joshua. He’s on his way to pick us up.”

Jeonghan nodded once, eyes on you. You still hadn't looked at him since, and he doesn't press for more. You had asked not to see him, and he honoured it, and walked away for now.

Something in you broke tonight, and something in him awakened.

⌦ 🥕 © mylovesstuffs | est. 2025. thank you for reading—your reblog means everything. until we meet again, stay cozy and keep dreaming! ◜ᴗ◝

[luna-azzurra]

Writing Advice #1

...for figuring out who your protagonist actually is (like really is, not just what trauma you gave them in chapter two)

⭒ Write their dating app bio⭒ No, I don't mean the cringe-perfect one with the sunset hiking pic. I mean the one they write at 2:14am, fully spiraling but trying so hard to sound like they have their shit together.

Like, what do they say they’re “working on”? Do they admit they have control issues or do they phrase it like “I’m just really passionate about organizing things”? What’s their weird hill to die on? (Because everyone has one... Mine is that people who say “I’m brutally honest” are just mean and proud of it. What’s theirs?)

Would someone fall in love with them immediately or read that bio and swipe left so hard they sprain a finger? Both answers are useful, btw. The more specific and mildly unhinged it gets, the closer you are to understanding how they see themselves, which is honestly way more interesting than how you, the god-writer, view them from on high.

Make them messy (Please) And for the love of stories, give them a hobby besides “being the main character.”

[beannoss]

So I've been thinking about them:

Specifically I was wondering what the moment was (if there even was a specific moment) that cinched it for Twilight developing feelings for Yor.

[Spoiler warning: this post references manga chapters not yet animated]

I think for Yor it's pretty quick. Like, this moment here:

Not that Yor fell in love with Twilight then (ymmv) or that she's fully aware of her feelings, but it's explicit that she felt connected to him here and attached in meaningful ways.

But for Twilight, it wasn't so clear. For a while I'd kind of decided that it just came over him slowly (and I think there is something to that) and that there wasn't any singular moment which stood out. But that didn't feel quite right. The more I thought about it, the more I thought there were two stand-out moments, only one of which Twilight actually (semi-)clocks.

The first, which I think passes him by entirely, is this:

In my view, this laugh is an entirely authentic response. I think he is, despite himself, delighted by this woman who 1. just unexpectedly saved him from being stabbed, and 2. did it by sending the guy flying across an entire alleyway.

This is accentuated in the anime, I think, by the jaunty, puckish music that makes up the first part of their marriage theme song. I am dying for the reappearance of this music in some fashion, btw, it's so fun and cheeky and I'm hoping foreshadows their vibe after various revelations and particularly when they start working together as Agent Twilight and Thorn Princess:

The second moment for Twilight, I think, is more subtle for all it's more impactful. Or at least, the degree of its importance passed me by on initial read/watch, and I think it's deliberately downplayed by Twilight himself. Because he does actually clock it but if he looks more closely at it, well... then he might have to do something about it. And maybe that something won't comport with what the mission needs, and then what?

It happens when Twilight first bugs Yor, and then poses with Franky as SSS agents to test whether she knows Yuri is with the SSS.

It's clear in the lead up that Twilight recognises he has some feelings about/for Yor, and he doesn't want to spy on her; he doesn't want to mistrust her at all. He has to convince himself to take seriously that she may be a potential threat.

And even then, the convincing only sort of mostly works, because he hesitates again:

Which is, by the way, bananas. At this point, they've been a fake family for maybe a handful of weeks? Twilight is an experienced, accomplished spy with a finely honed and necessary sense of paranoia. Of course he should be suspicious. Her brother is an SSS agent! Canonically, the SSS are both Twilight- and SSS self-described as Twilight's greatest existential threat. It shouldn't be a question whether or not to verify Yor's knowledge here. And yet.

We all know how the rest plays out. He decides that listening in isn't enough, he needs to confront her insofar as he's able. I wrote previously about Twilight's relationship with Anya and the pivotal moment for him in how his view of his relationship with Anya changes based on Anya's (and Endo's) choices. I think a similar thing happens in this scene with Yor.

See, it would have been enough for Yor to continue to deny, continue to not call on Yuri's help, to prove she didn't know, and to put Twilight's mind at ease.

Endo takes it further.

Y'all: THIS IS ABSOLUTELY WILD. It borders on levels of impulsive foolhardiness that Twilight should actually take as a negative for the person playing his wife for Operation Strix. Yor even alludes later to the problems this could cause!

The SSS are indiscriminate; if Yor was facing down actual SSS agents, first assaulting and then threatening them would 100000% land her in custody. Were it not for Yuri, it may even get her disappeared, based on how casually and frequently Yuri references having people executed. It would absolutely put the Forgers at risk, in general and in the implicitly sexist Ostanian society, because if Mrs Forger behaves this way, how does Mr Forger behave? And why can't he control his wife? The Secret Police are not known for their leniency, their modesty, their discerning, their temperateness, their mercy. They are known for the exact opposite of those things. And due to being a spy, Twilight probably knows they're actually much worse than even their public reputation.

And here's Yor saying: you can question me but if you threaten my brother or my husband, I will fucking end you. Bodily.

Of course, it's entirely in keeping with her character, and it's an entirely revealing moment of who she is. And I think this is the moment for Twilight. He's already been trusting her bit by bit, as he says above, intuitively. I'd suggest that maybe even more than that though, Yor taps into something Twilight deeply wants: backup. Someone and somewhere safe. Maybe we could describe a person fulfilling that role in an adult relationship as a partner...?

It's because he doubts his intuition (his wants, his feelings, things he shouldn't be countenancing) that we get to this point where he (overzealously) tests her.

She blows his test right out of the water.

The SSS are basically the group he fears most; this is reiterated throughout the story. He doesn't trust them specifically because of who he is and also just generally. He doesn't trust their judgment. He doesn't share their values or their priorities. He doesn't like them around. He doesn't like them looking. He doesn't like being anywhere near them. (Also, he's right.)

And here's Yor. Not only standing up to them on his behalf but actually going on active defence on his behalf.

(I pause here to note 'on his behalf' is a bit, mm, tricky, since it's actually technically on Loid's behalf and I have Thoughts and Feelings about Twilight & Identity. But for the sake of the impact of this moment on Twilight, we'll take it as writ that in this moment there's no appreciable difference between Twilight and Loid.)

I think from here on out, it's incredibly difficult for Twilight to ever doubt or distrust Yor. He perceives her as firmly in his corner, that if the chips are down — if his worst enemy and his worst fear come knocking — she'll be on his team, unflinchingly. He may not think there will be much she can do (heh.) or much she can offer given the power of the SSS and her civilian status (I reiterate: heh.), but it matters that he believes that she'll be by his side.

And you know what? He's right. She will be.

That isn't something he's had since he was a little boy. Even WISE doesn't seem to offer that to its agents, given Nightfall's thought here:

Twilight's had to rely on himself for decades and now here's this astonishing woman who will threaten the Secret Police for his sake. Of course he trusts Yor. Of course this moment widens the cracks in his barriers. And further: of course those cracks start to reach into those walls deep, deep inside that protect his heart. This is all before getting to other moments, like when he reflects on how Yor is creating a better world in ways he (thinks he) can never aspire to do himself. That she loves Anya openly, freely, with such dedication, to the point of sacrificing her own needs. That she just never gives up, she persists and persists and persists, always doing her best. That she reminds him it's okay to accept peace and to rest. That she wants and tries to take care of him... On and on and on.

Of course we get to this point:

I'm particularly taken with his body language a little later in the scene. He manages to get himself to sitting but he's still sprawled, open, even as he can't wrap his mind around what exactly is happening or why, and he's feeling vulnerable for all that. But at the same time, this is Yor. And she's safe.

In my view, if the Mole Arc hadn't happened immediately between this moment and the earlier where Yor declares herself unhappy, it would have been clearer how much stress he felt specifically due to Yor's apparent sudden unhappiness with their arrangement. The stress got subsumed (conveniently, ahem, Endo) into the stress and violence of the Mole Arc, but I think it rattled him pretty profoundly. It's also additionally why her warm greeting hit him as hard as it did: relief across multiple lines, such that he had to remind himself not to relax, despite Yor's apparent return to normal.

And there may be added layers to Twilight's reactions to Yor's bad moods due to his familial history, as pointed out by @unhappy-sometimes in this post; the inverse, of course, is that Yor's general good-naturedness would add layers to Twilight's sense of security with her. And the apparent loss of that, all the more devastating.

Rounding out the original moment though, I think this in many ways demonstrates the point:

Twilight throws away the bug. That is also wild. It isn't like that bug could only be used on Yor; it wasn't somehow modified to only respond to her person. It was a device that could be used and reused on different targets, on people who actually are worthy of being bugged, etc. But instead of pocketing it for later use, Twilight throws it away.

Actually: he not only throws it away, he crushes it first. Perhaps because he couldn't stand to have that particular device around, the device he used when he doubted Yor?

Seems kind of irrational, Twilight.

Seems kind of telling.

I mentioned my last Twilight meta about his relationship with Anya: in that, I suggest Twilight recognised entering into a compact with Anya, which subtly modifies, for him, the motivations around Strix. I think something like that happens here, too. If Yor is willing to go to such apparent extremes to protect him, he'll do his utmost to protect her.

I've had this meta in my drafts for a while, but I'm chuffed by this panel from the most recent chapter, as it kind of underscores all this by Yor's positioning of herself:

(Of course the point is there isn't a dichotomy: they'll protect each other, as indicated by Yor's if I had to choose: she won't have to choose.)

Back to Twilight, at this point, he can still justify all this as being within mission parameters. Of course he should protect Yor: she is an innocent civilian and if anything happens to her it would threaten Strix. But if/when this line is tested, if/when there comes a point where protecting Yor is actually the option that may put Strix at risk or put him somehow in opposition to WISE, then we'll see.

And more importantly, Twilight will see, too.

[lulunothulu]

“Not a Reader”

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake finds one of your romance books and decides to read it. He thinks it would be funny to quote it to you.

Content: Just fluff 😂

Everyone thank @fanficmom94 for this idea (Most of these book quotes are fake btw lol)

Jake wasn’t being nosy. No, he was…being resourceful.

A few days ago, Jake caught you reading one of your romance books in the living room when you thought he was still at work for the day. He knew you loved to read, but he never guessed you’d read romance.

Specifically, smutty romances.

No, when Jake saw you turn beet red at the sight of him walking into the living room and the way you closed your book…it told him all he needed to know.

So now, he was on a mission to find said book and read it before you got home from work.

Why would he do that on his one day off? Because 1. He wanted to know why you turned so red. And 2. He loved seeing you flustered. The fact that after reading something it made you get up from the couch and straddle him, also helped motivate him to look for the book.

If he could laid and see you get flustered, he’d be golden.

Where could you have left a dirty book?

He smiles to himself when he remembers the bookshelf he bought you a while ago came with a square box container. He knew it in his bones that it was in there.

He grabs the box, the wool fabric scratching against his calloused hands. He peaks inside and smiles to himself.

I knew it.

Pulling your book out, he turns to the first chapter and gasps. The first scene opens with the main character in the middle of receiving oral.

Jake’s immediate reaction is to close it because what the fuck? He opens it again, going back and reading the chapter before continuing on to the next.

Before the knows it, he’s three books into your collection when he hears the garage door opening. He almost tears a page while he’s scrambles to put the book (and box) back where he found them.

“Jake!” You call.

“I’m coming!” He responds.

Jake looks in one of the mirrors in the hall and almost laughs—his cheeks are bright red.

By the time he gets downstairs, he hopes his cheeks are back to normal but seeing as your brows lift, they didn’t.

“Are you okay?” You ask, a smile creeping on your lips.

“Mhmm,” he smiles. He kisses you before pulling you into him by the hips. “I missed you today.”

“Did you?” You ask. “On the one day you have off?”

“Yes,” he gruffs. “I especially missed the way ‘you look kneeling before me’.”

“What else did you miss?” you ask, not catching on to what he’s implying.

“I missed the way your lips ‘caress the nap of my neck’ and how you ‘call me your mate’.”

You pull away from him, eyes narrowing. “Where did you hear about mates?”

“Oh, I’m not even done.” He chuckles, pulling you into him again. “I especially missed the way you ‘pray to the heavens to let you come from my fingers’.”

“Jake! You read my book???” You cry out, embarrassment rushing to your face in a deep blush.

Jake only laughs, pulling you closer.

“No, get the fuck off me!” You laugh.

“Or what? You’ll ‘grant me pure and total damnation’?”

When you swat at him, he chuckles. “By the gods, Y/N! You can’t keep me away from your ‘ethereal loins’.”

“Now why did you read that book?” You ask, giggling at how weird it sounds coming out of Jake’s Texan drawling mouth.

“I read three of the books in your ‘forbidden box’ and I’m not ashamed of it.”

“Well, Mr.Nosy Butt,” you start. “Did you get to finish the scene where Cori and the dragon man have sex in the air while he’s a dragon?”

“Honestly I tried to block that out,” he admits.

“How about the scene where Solari and Camden have sex in the bathroom with all the steam?”

He pretends to think. “Actually, you might have to demonstrate how they’d do that.”

You hum, grinding into his hips before kissing him. “Well I guess we have our work cut out for us tonight.”

Before you can ask, you’re over Jake’s shoulder and he’s practically running up the stairs to y’all’s bathroom, excited yelps falling from your lips.

Good googly moogly, I’d love to try those scenes with Jake 😏

[infamous-if]

hey amy, i dont know how to ask for this so please excuse my stumbling to do so: but can chapter 4 be the first chapter where we can select the option to "do you want to skip to the new content?" and make pre-selected choices about our MCs to see chapter 4 asap instead of playing through the prologue, chapter 1, 2, and 3 again?? would that be alright to request? bc i love the game, and i do enjoy replaying, but my specific brand of autism (aka: pathological demand avoidance) doesnt like that i HAVE to replay the game to see the new content, bc my autism saw the last one as a "a new demand" even rhough i k ow it kind of isnt. id rather have the agency to choose if i want to replay or if i want to see the new stuff asap, if thats alright. i hope my intention to be polite and sincere comes across well here, tone in text is hard for me. i hope youre having a good day btw and i cant wait to see chapter 4 (take your time)

That’s a okay to request, don’t worry! I’ll try to do that 🙏 I know it’s annoying having to replay all again it’s mostly because I’m a never ending editor so I’m always adding stuff and putting new stuff in but I’ll try to do that whole “skip to content” thing!!!

I’ll def be adding that in! Sorry everyone for making you guys slog through chapters you’ve already read lol 😭

[the-meme-monarch]

my delatrune 3&4 live-blogging And Also expanding on thoughts Here bc I tried to keep it vague there

so spoilers ofc

img 1 i was reacting to ciblesGD’s stream of chapter 3, img 2 i was watching someone from the server streaming chapter 3(plasticscentedoppossums but I’m not sure she’d want me to tag her), and img 3 i was again watching ciblesGD’s stream, of chapter 4 this time :]

susie’s talk about how even if ralsei’s not real their friendship still Is and she’ll never forget him and That’s Real. guy who just came back from friendship test hmmm im getting friendship test vibes from this

also what ralsei was talking about with finally wanting to discover who he is outside of the prophecy. getting to figure out who he is as a person outside of his servitude to the lightners and the legend. this is literally what capsei is built on btw

also sorry but I still like my tenna design more. i just think what i came up with is more clever. my big butch rabbit centaur lady could kick that giant twink’s ass. I’m sure I’ll learn to like canon tenna’s design, i already like his personality ! also idk if there’s any dialogue disproving this but i think it’d be fun if spamton and tenna were brothers :’] with how they already look so physically similar and honestly act similar, and then also their hatred of each other. also i want more darkners who are family. still literally only chapter 1 has given us canon Related characters, being spades king and lancer as father and son and clover as sisters

also sorry but I’m a little disappointed that chairiel wasn’t a Character. it was just toriel’s throne. you literally Named this chair and then it didn’t get to be a Person. it wasn’t even alive like he couch was. chairiel couldve been like. working for tenna as a Guard for toriel as she slept or something. and then toriel and undyne were There but barely did anything. I don’t think I liked chapter 3 that much. ☝️I still like it A Lot but it is at the bottom of the list for favorite chapters I think. besides those nitpicks it also just kinda felt like it was dragging on with the game show, which I think was Purposeful, but still

⬆️the guys. the streamer did not talk to them so I don’t know what they say and my heart hurts over it but they’re here. look at the,m it’s the sweet capn cakes

DONT THINK I DIDNT FUCKINB SEE THAT? DONT THINK I DIDNT FUCKING SEE THAT KRIS IN THE CLOSET? DONT THINK I DDINT SEE HOW YOU COVERED IT WITH THE HEART PILLOWS? if there ends up being an innocent explanation for this my guess is it’s just a dummy of kris that they made and used to scare noelle and dess Confiscated it. but hmmm awfully suspicious they hid it under the heart pillows so we couldn’t get a proper look at it.

also I’m absolutely adoring how kris is getting more of their own Voice and actions through, putting the stickers on susie, pouring the fruit juice in her mouth and her theirs, them lawnmower holding her by the legs to eat the snacks off the tray. and their dialogue choices seem to be loosening up more, to be more specific in what they will be saying, like the way you (can) tell ralsei “I want you to be yourself dude”, to father alvin “awesome sermon my man” again to raslei “park your butt mister” how they get you to relinquish control to play the piano, how they finally hug(?) ralsei of their own volition (it might not have been a hug actually, I didn’t get a screenshot and I haven’t gone back to look, so maybe they just crouched down to put a hand on his shoulder, idr)

and the playing as the SOUL segment was so fun. noelle and susie getting to actually spend time together, kris in the kitchen making chocolate milk i think. kris Beating the SOUL back to keep it from the guitar.

Carol.

ALSO knight chara theory might as well be dead Oh Wells I didn’t really expect to be right anyway i just thought it’d be neat. sorry knight papyrus and knight alvin fans except the ones of you who were mean to me about knight chara. upon seeing the roaring knight I did think it was dess, it still very well could be but I began thinking it was carol, with kris being on the phone talking smth about ‘the next fountain’ and then saying susie got the guitar and the voice saying “I’ll be right there” and then carol showing up even though noelle said she’d still be at work for a while. the knight and the voice on the phone who is probably definitely carol could be different people but idk that was just my leap in logic

ALSO GERSON. FUCK. i was So hoping to know how a dust covered burial object would work in the dark world and im so happy it was answered, i figured it might be but I didn’t think it’d be In The Church, I thought it’d be like a ‘too many fountains were opened and now the Outside is becoming a dark world (and therefore the objects in the graveyard)’ situation. also no I don’t believe ralsei is an object with asriel’s dust. when he’s downed it calls him “a pile of fluff”, no mention of dust. however I think this debunks red horn headband and green crayon theory. my funny joke theory: ralsei is a clump of asriel’s fur from a hairbrush

⬆️this was fucked

⬆️this was also fucked

anyway this is literally how these chapters left me (positive)

i did literally have to take two headache medicines at different points while watching these chapters

[mysteryshoptls]

is it ever brought up/mentioned how the students get back to NRC after using the dark mirror to travel? really appreciate all your translation work btw🫶

Hello, thanks for stopping by! It's been mentioned here and there, although there's still a lot of speculation that goes into it. In the Prologue, we learn that students who are "selected are summoned to the campus through ... "gates," which can appear anywhere." In Book 4, Ace and Deuce rush back to campus manually, since the "mirror gate wasn't open," which shows that should they need to, they can take public transportation. He did also specifically say they couldn't "warp back with magic," because the mirror gate was closed. In Book 7, there was a chapter where the freshmen are having a discussion about Mickey and the mirror in Ramshackle that seems to be connected to him. Ortho mentions that "People often use mirrors, crystals, and basins for magic-based transportation and communication," and gives a hypothesis that the mirror in Ramshackle fulfills a set of conditions that allows it to link to Mickey's mirror. In Halloween I, Ace mentions that the school mirrors "let us go home and back instantly," but we don't get much more than that. In Halloween II, Leona lists off a few different magical artifacts that use mirrors, and how those mirrors "connects two places together." But it's not said if specifically two mirrors are needed to connect two places together. Also in Halloween II, the Dark Mirror was connected to the spectral realm, which allowed both the ghost-napped students and the Hallowenders to travel through the Mirror into various locations without mention of an exit mirror. At the very end, the disco ball in the dance hall served as the connection back to the Dark Mirror, which brought all the students back to campus. Using all these as a basis for my own hypothesis, I can speculate two possible options:

Possibility 1: A mirror must be connected to a "mirror/gate" in order to work. For example, the students thinks of where they want to go, and the Dark Mirror plops them out of a designated "mirror/gate" in their desired location. This would require there to be many, many mirrors/gates all over the world.

Possibility 2: For NRC specifically, as they travel by Dark Mirror, and it is a highly renowned magical artifact, it has the capability of hearing when someone calls out to it to transport back to NRC (Think Marvel Heimdall).

There may be other possibilities, these were just the two that came to my mind first.

[c4l4mityv4in]

Since it keeps disappearing on Ao3 here is all the info about my Pink In The Night AU for Naruto

Part 1 of this

................♡................

I hope I didn’t mess anything up, btw I raised the kids' ages and lowered Juugo’s cause I thought it would be cute for him to be the tallest and oldest looking in the friend group but actually being the youngest

This was obvious to me, I’ve seen so much Menma fanart and Kawaki needs a happy childhood (notice how he doesn’t have the Kara tatoo). I wanted to give Kawaki and Sarada a whiskers too but I couldn’t make it look good. Also if you haven’t read Pink In The Night, Naruto doesn’t actually have that ugly ass haircut and has his original hair/Jiraiya book hair. Also I firmly believe that the sexy jutsu was a way for Naruto to be openly Genderfluid.

Sarada was originally in this family but I loved Sasuke being a girl-dad too much, also I would love to get Sakura training Hima

I LOVE SHIKANEJI!!! Also I think a Nara with the Byakugan would be so interesting to see how Shikadai specifically would mix his Kekkei Genkais

This was a scrap pairing and then I realized how much I loved it, Karin living in Konoha and having a child would also be an interesting way for both the Uzumaki children and Naruto to learn how to use their Kekkei Genkai from her.

Choji and Omoi fit just as much As Karui x Choji so no one can be mad about this one

LEEGAA/GAALEE MY LOVES! I have no commentary for this but I’m super curious about the sibling dynamic between Shinki and Metal

I have no commentary, I just think this all makes so much sense

Kankiba has lowkey become one of my favorite ships in history, the moment I’m done writing my Halloween fic, I’m going to write a Kankiba fanfic. (I’m a slow writer and I’m scared if I don’t start writing now it won’t be ready in October) (I was weak and started writing the first chapter of a Kankiba fic, whoops)

Quite forgotten boys in love and their daughter, they actually all have a ninja butterfly that looks like a bow with an Italian name, Shino’s is Carmela, Sai’s is Mariangela and Hako’s is named Margherita, as in the flower not the drink. Also open marriage because I stumbled on Shino x Kiba x Kankuro and I love it now, here is the link for the art, here by @xmikaelx

Kakashi has SO much chemistry with SO many guys, this choice was so hard, I was this close to adding Gai to the polycule

[luli-lads]

*Takes deep breath* Okay.

- Predictions and analysis of the 4 new chapters -

(If you're reading this in the future, this was made before the chapters were actually released, because I have brainrot)

"Death and Rebirth"

Just like we have "Under Deepspace", "Long-Awaited Revelry", "Prologue to Tomorrow" and "Homecoming Wings", this is going to be the name of the new main story, which will contain 4 chapters, and I'm guessing each of them will have 9-10 episodes of actual story, with some battles sprinkled in.

1 - Absurdity Unfolds

The Gaia Research Center is where Josephine worked as a researcher, and where MC (and Caleb) were being experimented on as kids.

If you remember, ruins of research centers were in the N109 Zone, so although we have no confirmation of this specific one, this is probably a Sylus chapter.

I'm guessing MC is trying to uncover more of her past, and that's why she decides to sneak into this 'laser-surrounded' place. I wonder if we'll get info about Caleb as well.

As for the 'Zoion Hunt'... Hmm... I wonder if that has to do with the little cube we saw Sylus and MC holding in the trailer. It seems to be some sort of game. Perhaps the people chasing them are trying to win the game too by snatching the cube from them, or perhaps they're guards who took notice of MC's breaking into the research center.

The last part, about the arena, seems to connect directly to the next chapter, as we can see by the next picture (it looks like a futuristic football field lol).

2 - All From Deepspace

Now, I'm not sure what's up with the arena itself. So I'm gonna leave that in the air and let y'all speculate.

Let's just focus on the text itself.

MC successfully gets into the lab where they experimented on her, and either finds records of what happened there, or has flashbacks about it. That's where the quote at the bottom comes in.

I'm also thinking that the car chase sequence might be at the end of this chapter instead, once she has gathered all the info she needs and has to escape from the Ever guards, she calls Sylus to come pick her up.

As for the thing that Sylus destroys... There's no confirmation from the voiceline itself that it's the cube (sometimes they mix voicelines and scenes that don't correspond) but whatever it is, I'm pretty sure he destroyed it because it had a tracking device or something like that. And MC gets mad because she thinks he destroyed it for no reason, and wanted to take it back to Unicorns to analyze it. OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT IDK

3 - Cosmic Speck

Immediately the fact that there's snow already tells us that this is a Zayne chapter. I'm guessing this happens a day or two after the previous two chapters, not immediately after.

And. Btw. 'Unsettling figures lurk in the darkness', that's about Dawnbreaker. If they were just talking about those 'Alterum' they wouldn't mention them in the next sentence, or they wouldn't use that first sentence. It's a nudge towards Dawnbreaker + the Alterum at the same time.

I'm really worried though. Because, you remember when Zayne's branch was announced and we saw him wearing Dawnbreaker's clothes so we assumed it was him, and then it wasn't...? I'm worried they'll pull the same stunt and it won't actually be Dawnbreaker.

So if it is... How did he get here? Or how did we go there? They're talking about Linkon City, not about Chansia, so... It means he came here... But how...?

About the Alterum, they seem to be people that are being taken by Protocore Syndrome, but not quite yet turned into Wanderers. Still, kinda monstrous, maybe? (Half-Wanderers, just between you and me)

The fountain of Atei is Ever's ultimate project. About reaching immortality. As for how the Alterum and the project are connected... The greater number of Alterum probably mean more people that Ever has used as test subjects, which means they're getting closer to their goal if they're using more resources on their experiments.

As for the plot in this chapter exactly... I'm not sure about the sequence of events. It seems like it's gonna take place around the city, helping/killing Alterum with Zayne/DB. Maybe that'll lead him and MC to break into another research center...? ...Xander? (Which leads us to the next chapter)

4 - Snow Fades at Dawn

Yet again nudging us with that chapter title huh.

Just like I said in the previous chapter, more Protocore Syndrome, more subjects, more Alterum, etc.

But it also adds something new. It seems like some of these patients, before they even turn into Alterum, are choosing to be treated by Xander Sciences using their Life Pods (I'm assuming that's what the 'cocoon' part is referring to, since yknow Ever owns Xander), to try and stop the illness, but by doing so they become willing test subjects (and maybe that's when, if the experiments fail, they turn into Alterum).

I'm also wondering if Ever is manipulating the Protocore Syndrome odds so more people will turn to them...

And then that last line. I can assure you with 100% certainty that it's said by Carter. Remember he wanted MC as a patient to test on her, but she kept refusing.

Hmm... I wonder if the situation is that he manages to trap MC and gives an evil monologue, says that, and then Zayne comes to save her? Perhaps that's when the whole trailer scene happens. Hmmm.

Final thoughts

I'm gonna be honest, I don't know if Sylus and Zayne are actually going to appear in chapters 1 and 3, but I'm 100% sure of their presence in chapters 2 and 4. (Not together. You know what I mean. Sylus in 2 and Zayne in 4)

I'm really hyped for this update, and some things it may bring: Hints about 6th LI, possibly more 3D models for important characters (Carter pls pls pls pls), Zayne and Sylus interaction if we dare dream (no way lmao), etc etc...

What do y'all think?

[bucketslutz]

Don't Be Late (Logan Howlett/Fem mutant reader)

Chapter 1

(A/N): btw this takes place in an alternate universe where the x men as a team don't really exist, but the members and mutants obviously still do. readers powers are similar to atom eve from invincible, if you haven't seen that show i highly recommend it, but if not, you don't really need to know any of that to understand readers powers, they'll be explained in more detail later on.

Summary: You've spent your entire academic career trying to hide who you really are, your goal to end up working in a small museum or archive and live the rest of your life going unnoticed. The first day of grad school you meet someone that sparks something deep inside you that you never thought existed. Your history professor, Logan, makes you feel things you've never felt from someone before. Will you keep hiding your feelings, or will you get too close and risk him knowing who you really are?

Warnings: 18+!! explicit sexual content, minors DNI!! pls!!! oral (fem recieving), logan being a munch lowk, oral on the couch, teasing, dirty talking, cursing, logan being an asshole professor, no use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3,208

You anxiously rub your forehead as you struggle to find parking on campus, circling and circling the lot. Finally, someone pulls out and you turn in aggressively, someone in front of you flips you off, probably eyeing the same spot. You’re late. Very late. You have an American Civil War class, it’s an advanced level, with a professor whose name you cannot remember for the life of you. You’ve been preoccupied this summer, and time escaped you before you got the chance to research his credentials. It’s your first day of grad school and you’re late. A long commute, a new college, and shitty parking. You hope to god the professor doesn’t care or notice when you slip in late, as you carry a specific kind of disdain for drawing attention to yourself.

You were 13 when you first noticed something was wrong, walking home alone from school when a stranger tried to pin you down and do god knows what to you, until your eyes glowed a deep fuchsia and you threw him across the alley with a strength you didn’t even know you had. Your veins began glowing the same pink color and pulsating, scaring you shitless. You ran to the woods behind your house, avoiding your family for fear of harming them. With enough practice over the years, you’ve learned to control your abilities. Your eyes only glowing occasionally when you’re especially frustrated or angry. Sometimes even when you’re…taking care of some sexual urges. While you don’t know what causes these powers, you do know the general population’s feelings about mutants enough to understand that no one can know what you are. You don’t keep boyfriends for longer than 3 months, you don’t let friends become closer than you need them to be, and you don’t tell anyone what you are. You just want a normal life.

Your forehead is slick with sweat by the time you arrive at the history building, your breath heavy and labored, not from how fast you were walking to the building, but from anxiety, which is also the source of the excessive sweat on your brow. You cannot recall this courses class size, and you damn yourself for forgetting to check; not knowing if you can slip into the large class quietly or if everyone will be able to see you come in. This isn’t undergrad where people stumble in hungover with 10 minutes left of class, this is a graduate program where people go on to become masters in their fields of study. And you’re going to look like a fool in front of everyone. You approach the door to the classroom and can see through the window that it is, in fact, a small class. Fuck. There are maybe 15 people in there total. You hold your breath as you attempt to quietly push the door open, but it fails you with a loud, obnoxious creak. Every head snaps towards you, including the teacher, and you offer a meek smile to your classmates and turn your head towards the professor to issue a brief apology. You swallow hard when your eyes land on him. his tall frame is leaning against the white board, a little scary looking with muscles that bulge against his crossed arms, peaking out from under his rolled up sleeves. You’re surprised they’re visible even through his plaid button-up. His hair is fluffy, dark, as well as his beard…or actually, you should say mutton-chops, as that would be a more accurate descriptor. He glares at you, and you swear you’ve held his gaze for hours, but realistically it’s only been no more than a few seconds.

“Sorry,” you offer timidly.

The professor nods lightly, his jaw tense, and waves you off as he continues addressing the class. You attempt to quietly maneuver to an empty seat in the back, trying your hardest to not trip over your classmate’s bags and chairs. You feel like it takes forever to get to your seat, hoping no one pays too much attention to how clumsily you scoot past the chairs and over obstacles. You try and settle as quietly as possible, unzipping your shoulder bag and retrieving a pen to take notes. He’s still going over the syllabus, thank god.

“The only homework you’ll have is an essay, every week—every Friday—you have an essay due. Then every 3 weeks you’ll have an exam,” he instructs, rather nonchalantly. “And while I don’t give a shit if you waste your money and don’t come to class,” his eyes suddenly are fixed onto you, you swallow a lump of anxiety lodged in your throat as he continues, “The school cares a helluva lot more so, if you don’t mark your name down on the attendance sheet, you forget, you’re late, or whatever the hell, you’ll be absent. I’m not going back in and fixing shit.”

Noted. He turns his gaze back to the rest of the class and continues talking about the curriculum for the rest of the semester. you try to keep your head down as you scribble notes into your notebook, trying to look busy, when in reality you want to kick yourself in the face. You left your apartment too late, you didn’t anticipate the amount of traffic on the interstate, and you conveniently forgot how terrible parking is on college campuses. You look up to see the professor checking his wristwatch with a furrowed brow, like he’s considering something.

“Alright, that’s all i’ve got today, get out,” he commands, his gravelly voice showing slight indignation.

There’s a general look of confusion around the room at his abrupt dismissal with 45 minutes left of class. As people begin to shove their belongings in bags, you quickly get the memo as you collect your notebook and pen in your hands and stand up, ready to depart from this nightmare as soon as possible. But you’re the last in your row, shoved into a corner. the line of people in front of you have their chairs pushed back to the wall as they slowly collect themselves. It takes an obnoxiously long time for you to get out from behind the the long row of desks, even longer to leave the class as everyone shoves their way past you and out the door. Finally, you find an opening, but before your foot can even reach the threshold, there’s a strong grip on your arm. You turn your head to meet the gaze of your professor. Your heart skips a beat as he maintains eye contact briefly, before he hands you a piece of paper and lets go of your arm.

“Find your name, mark it,” he directs, causing you to scramble for the pen in your hands as you scan the paper for your name.

You try and offer a polite smile to the professor, but he remains stoic and unamused, making you feel even more uncomfortable. Once you find your name, you ungracefully set the paper against your flimsy notebook for structure, and scrawl a shaky check mark next to your name. You offer the paper back to him.

“Here, thank you, um, professor…” you trail off awkwardly, forgetting that you never actually checked what his name was. He takes the attendance sheet from you.

“Logan,” he answers.

“Ah, thank you professor Logan—”

“No,” he cuts you off with a wave of his hand, “just Logan.”

“Logan, right. thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says, his tone far from indicating the typical politeness of the statement, and rather literally cautioning you to never bring up this act of kindness again. And with that you turn to leave the class, unsure of why this gruff, sturdy, serious professor bended his own personal rules just for you. But no matter with that, you at least know you’ll never be late to his damn class again.

***

You pull into the driveway of your house with a sigh. It's late, the time you prefer to get home, so you can fully relax and use your powers in peace. Despite living in the middle of nowhere, you still fear someone will mistakenly pull into your driveway and catch you flying into your second story window or creating an apple from nothing. The lack of sound, except that of the chirping crickets and cicadas, puts you at ease. You release the tension in your shoulders and float off of the ground, propelling yourself to the patio on the second story of your house. You unlock the door with a flick of your wrist, the fuchsia energy encasing the doorknob and letting you into your bedroom, you then toss your things down onto the floor. An exhausted groan escapes your lips as you face plant onto your cool, soft bed. Not even coming up for air when you fling your arm up and slam the door shut with a pink, crystalline whoosh. You turn over to face the ceiling, your eyes fluttering shut within the comfort of your bed. Longing to get out of your stuffy jeans and bra, you trail your hands over your body and watch as your clothes dissipate into a pink flash while you manifest some boxer shorts and a loose t-shirt. Finally comfortable, you slide under the covers, wanting to sleep off one of the most stressful days you've had in a while. A morning full of classes, then 5 hours interning at the museum, before finally finishing off your day at the convenience store down the road working a 6 hour shift. While you can create most anything you want with your powers, you cannot create the full nights sleep that you most desperately need right now. 

As you drift, you think about how embarrassing of a morning you had. Stumbling into class like a fawn learning how to walk, Logan directly looking at you when speaking about attendance, Logan shoving the attendance sheet in your face so you mark yourself as present, Logan's strong arms and the way they looked with his sleeves rolled up. Logan's fluffy, dark hair and--No. Shut up. Don't think about that, he's your professor for god's sake. And, more importantly, an asshole. No amount of muscle or sheer sexiness will distract from that fact. You repeat this fact to yourself as you doze off, not wanting to give in to immature thoughts of attraction. Despite falling asleep to the negation of that attraction, your subconscious drifts somewhere you know you shouldn't physically go.

You're in Logan's office, your ass perched on the edge of his desk. Logan's back is to you, locking his door and drawing the blinds. He turns to you, his stance almost primal and animal-like, like he can't wait for the chance to devour you. The thought of that causes your arousal to swirl deep in your stomach. Logan saunters towards you, bearing his lower teeth like a predator ready to take their prey. Your breath hitches in anticipation as he gets closer, causing you to spread your legs, hoping the clear view of what lies beneath your skirt will draw him in closer. It seemingly works as he closes the distance between you two, his waist now flush against your lower stomach. Tingles shoot down your spine at the sudden contact, blood rushing down to your pussy. He pants as he brings his hands to your waist and strokes up and down the sides of your body, then achingly slow up your neck, then finally stopping at your chin. One hand creeps to the nape of your neck where he lays his palm flat while the other pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes flutter shut, anticipating that he's close to having his way with you. He holds you there for a beat, his face so tantalizingly close to yours that you can feel his breath against your skin. You whine gently when his lips teasingly graze your own. The fingers pinching your chin adjust slightly to grip your jaw instead, allowing him better control to tilt your head up towards him. His other hand, at the nape of your neck, travels upward allowing his fingers to gently rake through your hair until he roughly takes a fistful and tugs. A soft moan escapes your throat and you try to satiate the throbbing pressure between your legs by rubbing your thighs together. An amused huff leaves Logan's lips as he looks down at your squirming figure beneath him.

"You gonna be good for me, princess?" he asks in a low, gruff tone as the hand on your chin trails down the side of your neck before landing on your breast. He massages the flesh fervently, finding it harder to hide his own desperate arousal and need from you. You moan into his touch and arch your back into him, your pussy searching for more friction that Logan is expertly avoiding giving you by not allowing his pelvis to meet yours.

"Logan," you gasp.

"C'mon, baby," his voice soothes, like smooth velvet, "tell me you want it."

"I want it," you whisper, desperately seeking any sort of release.

"Good girl."

And with that, Logan removes the hand on your breast so he can aggressively hook an arm under your ass and easily hoist you up with one fell swoop. Your legs wrap around his waist and your arms around his neck, reveling the feel of his palm that covers your asscheek. With a growl Logan spins you around and throws you onto the couch in the corner of his office, barely allowing you a second to recover when he crawls on top of you and captures your lips with his own desperately. The kiss is aggressive and needy, tongues dancing together ungracefully, teeth clashing, hasty lip bites between kisses. His hips grind against yours roughly, causing you to hook both your feet around his ass to keep him there for as long as you can, desperately seeking more friction. His hands alternate with each other between grasping your breasts to gripping your face passionately. Without breaking the kiss, he hooks his arms under you and drives you further up the couch so your upper back lays against the armrest. You whine when his lips leave yours, but it's quickly replaced with a moan as his lips travel down your neck, chest, the stomach he exposes by lifting the hem of your shirt, biting the fabric at the waistband of your skirt. You squirm underneath him, anticipating what's gonna happen next as his face nestles between your legs. He licks, bites, sucks, and kisses the skin of your inner thighs, causing you to gasp with each harsh move of his mouth, before promptly melting into a moan when he alleviates his biting or sucking with a kiss or flick of his tongue. Your clit is throbbing, your pussy aching for him to get closer to your center. So he does. His tongue dances along the edge of your panties, not dipping much further into the fabric, his head alternating between each of your lips. You whine desperately as Logan's mouth hovers above your core, his hot breath teasing you further. He looks up at you and into your eyes as his mouth latches onto your thinly clothed pussy, causing you to squirm and moan underneath him, the already damp fabric from your arousal, getting further soaked from Logan's saliva.

"Logan," you whine fervently. "Please."

His mouth leaves your pussy, just barely hovering above it now.

"I gotta make you want it, princess, it's no fun unless you're begging for me to taste you," he breathed against your pussy, his voice low and syrupy. He quickly resumes the hold his mouth had on your pussy, making your back arch off the couch with a moan.

"Okay, I'm officially begging, please, Logan, please," you whimper, not sure how much longer you're able to take his teasing.

"Atta girl," he rasps against your pussy. Like nothing, his fingers hook around the fabric of your panties and he rips it off of you with an experienced strength, leaving your pussy now exposed to Logan, and your torn lace panties on the floor.

"So wet for me, huh?" Logan teases through a cocky smile. You squirm more underneath him, causing his hands to move to your hips to hold them down. Logan stares hungrily at your cunt, removing one hand from your hip and bringing it to your pussy lips to rub it tantalizingly slow with his fingers. Flicking his eyes up to meet yours, he finally brings his tongue to your folds and licks up to your clit. You moan throatily and bring your hands to his hair to give it a tug of appreciation. He groans enthusiastically into your pussy, eating at it like your core is the forbidden fruit dripping in molten pleasure. He's animalistic in his movements and noises, lapping at your clit with groans and grunts in pleasure, almost growling even. He brings his fingers to your core, tracing the hole before shoving two digits inside of you. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them with each push inside. The noises are lewd and wet with each drive of his fingers. Your moans grow more desperate and needy as you climb towards your climax, the death grip you have on his hair growing stronger and stronger. The hand holding your hip down crawls up to your breast, grasping desperately at your flesh, hastily circling your nipples with his thumb. Your breaths quicken, your eyes flutter shut as he continues the steady onslaught of your pussy with his mouth and fingers. 

"Logan, I'm so close, don't stop...please..." you trail off, beginning to lose yourself in your pleasure. Logan responds with needy moans against your clit and the continuous pumping of his fingers in and out of you. His grip on your breast loosens to grasp your side, slinking down to your waist, definitely leaving a mark with how rough he grabs at you. As his lips and tongue continue lapping you up, you can feel your arousal swirling in your stomach more and more. Your moans grow louder, your hips begin bucking. Logan groans into you, desperate to feel your release around his fingers. White hot pressure forms around your clit as you teeter on the edge of your orgasm, you look down at Logan and lock eyes with him just as you feel yourself dropping off.

The feeling of hot pink fire pricking your eyeballs jerks you awake, mid-orgasm, your eyes glow a pulsating fuchsia. You pant heavily, your orgasm ending unceremoniously against your fingertips. Leaving you disappointed. You huff in annoyance, wishing you could plunge yourself back into the wet dream that ended in a rather mediocre way. No, wait, that was your professor. You shouldn't be feeling, or thinking, this way at all. You feel disappointed in yourself for having such lewd thoughts about another person, especially a person of authority. You catch your breath, turn your head to face the clock on your nightstand and gasp when you see the time.

"Shit, shit, shit," you curse, hastily throwing yourself out of bed. "Please don't be late today."

(A/N): and that's that!! i hope people enjoy! this concept popped into my head earlier today so i've spent my sunday working on this, if people are interested to see where this goes, please leave a kudos or comment!!! TYYY🫶🏻🙈 i also posted this onto my ao3 here if you would like to view it there and keep up with it there as well!

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "Your aura/vibe"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read about your aura's possible characteristics and your vibe, how people may perceive you even at a first glance/first impression. thanks @ghostlygardendelusion-blog for the suggestion.

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3

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pile 1

I think your aura may have tones between yellow and green. On the first meeting people see your strength and determination, you may look a bit more reserved or closed off or even "showing off" in a way. But you have a big heart and some can see it too especially through your eyes or some specific behaviours (if you let them). You may have a bit of a wall in front of you caused by your past.

For some, you may seem a bit "too much" at first, or even too self confident/absorbed or too reserved, but it's generally a self-defense mechanism you adopted to hide your insecurity/shiness, and your pain. Probably you've been judged/gaslighted a lot. I think the way you grew up made it hard for you to speak about your needs and desires, about who you really are even, so you just started closing off and stopped talking but tried to fulfill your needs yourself the way you could (at least on your best days). Some may still be in that phase, others reacted by being more "out there" with their ideas and opinions too (and maybe even slightly stubborn about them). You may also be dressing in what society may consider a particular way or have a peculiar interest that not many may understand.

You look pretty independent because of your past, like if you don't feel too good, you rather keep it for yourself and put on a smile on your face and be there for others. Others don't ask you much of how you feel or similar cause you wouldn't answer them anyway or you'd tell them you're good so to not be a burden or something like that (actually, you're never a burden, no matter what you learned in your past). To be honest, you probably have started healing this side of you and this is why at times, on a first impression, you look a bit too full of yourself or closed off: you still need to balance yourself again but don't worry, you'll make it. Take your time and don't give up. People will be able to see your big heart and love the real you. Ofc, some of you are already showing it more and that's indeed the sign of the start of a new chapter for you.

For a few, you may still feel a bit lonely atm: please try to not give up and keep reaching for other people anytime you feel like. You'll meet your people this way, by keep trying to be out there, be more vulnerable/welcoming, and practicing socializing. You cannot always wait for others to reach out first nor you have to be there for them when you don't feel like: talk about your needs, even if it means needing a couple of days off on your own. Know ad appreciate your whole real self so to share it with others fully too. Speak more about yourself, the right people will love to listen. Find your audience.

And btw, I'm proud of how you made it 'till today. :)

song: thinking out loud | ed sheeran

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pile 2

Your aura may have tones between pink and red, for some a bit dark orange-ish too. At first you may look cute and sweet, maybe even little/on the younger side, very welcoming/comforting, like the old friend you have been close to for a lot. You have an healing presence. You have shiny eyes. People may approach you and talk with you easily, maybe while you're in line at the supermarket or such. People feel like trusting you, some may feel connected to you and others may feel (also physically) attracted by you or want to protect you or save you. You may have venus in scorpio/venus 8th house or similar placements, but not necessarily. Some people may not like you to the point of hating you or may be envious of you for no apparent reason even (so sorry about it).

For others, people notice your drive and passion, how focused and hard working you are, how prepared you are especially in a school or work setting. Whether you work in a team or not, you may shine often in the eyes of your boss or professor. You're very goal-oriented, and are rarely distracted but ofc it can happen (ADHD I hear). You may work or study better, or just be more proficient in general, in structured setting or when you have a plan set and know what to do from start to end. Not having that or having to improvise may make you a bit nervous cause you don't have control over what you're doing (and maybe lack trust in yourself). Remember where you are, what you were able to reach in your past: there's nothing you cannot do if you put your mind to it and try to stay/work calmly and in a balanced manner. Breathe, as you may tend to stress a bit too much here and there and overthink (lot of air/mercury in your chart? I understand, dw). There're perfectionism tendencies here too, and some people may notice them as well (especially those who work with you). Confront your demons, those that tell you you're not able to handle certain situations: you can. You totally can. The moment you're sure about it, you'll be able to receive whatever wish you ever wanted. And you don't have to be perfect either. It's okay to make mistakes.

Also, people love you in general: just try to not be too self aware. You may occasionally fear others pointing out/focusing on your physical flaws or mistakes (we're all imperfect humans, so if they do this let them be in their mold as it's only their own issue: let go of control on others -you cannot control them and their thoughts of you anyway- and just enjoy, be in contact with your body and love your whole self. Others will mirror you and forget about any random flaw or error you may see in yourself/make. You're perfect as you are, there's no other definition of perfection).

And if you feel like you're too unexperienced (or for a few, others may think this of you and let you down), again let go and remember you can and have time to learn more and make any experience you want to do. Those people aren't for you anyway.

Don't mind others too much (especially if what they say is not objectively helping you in any way), just keep spreading your contagious smile, beauty, knowledge, passion, heart around. Envious people will always be envious, it's not your fault. Keep up the great work!

song: enchanted | taylor swift

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pile 3

Your aura may be on the tones of light blue, blue or something like that. Maybe even indigo. Probably you're connected with the 5d/spiritual world too. You're thoughtful and you have a way with words that always gets people. Maybe you even work with words (writing/translating/teaching/communication/marketing/media/music...). You maybe also help others putting into words their emotions/feelings and help them feel better.

You look knowledgeable, you probably also have an higher education or are trying to reach it. You may love reading books and/or studying/learning. You look like someone that can be of support, with whom one can talk and share theirselves and not be judged. Someone who is able to make their reality come true. You feel very powerful and empowered, but you're also able of empowering others. You probably work in service fields, to help others too. Maybe you're a doctor/nurse or a psychologist. Anyway, you are balanced cause you know how to give yourself as well (or at least you're working on this: in the past you may have had people pleasing tendencies); I feel you may be saying some more "no's" and putting yourself first when you need, and that's good. Other see you as an angel, very open and helping. A true force of nature when necessary. Successful, in charge of your own destiny, and healing. Some perceive you as an example to follow in their life. For some, you're also a manifestation of a desire, a wish fulfillment. You may have the ability to pop up into someone's life when they need it the most, and maybe even disappear after your "job" with them is done. You may look like a loner or maybe it seems like you don't have many friends, but still you know a lot of people and are seen and thought very highly by them.

At times you may be feeling easily overwhelmed or overthink a lot, and those closer to you may realize it cause you tend to shut down or be a bit more on your own. Remember you can talk with people about your problems when you need (despite I feel like you may like to write your thoughts and analyze them the most, or are used this way). You seem to be pretty strong and wise, like you've been through a lot in your life and you're not that easily shaken by life anymore. But at times ofc it may happen... still, your mind is there to serve you, not to make it worse: remember you're in charge of your thoughts when things get tough.

Some people may really love you/fall for your ways and words. For some, you have become a source of support and help to those around you. You may be like a guide. Even if you may not be too close with people or the ones you've met, you're still a very important part of their life and/or a good memory they carry in their heart. For some of you, you may be(come) kinda famous/known at least in your area/field/school/workplace and people may be talking about you a lot. But generally, except a few ones, they will have good words about you and what you do.

song: butterflies pt.2 | queen naija