#IT WAS A LOT OF FUN LETS DO IT AGAIN SOMETIME

[binmeister]

Producer AU Headcanons

SAJA BOYS & HUNTR/X x Producer! Reader

I am mentally sane and definitely not in a hypothetical padded cell of this hyper fixation - have some headcanons I have and will eventually show more of maybe if people are interested

Will probably eventually expand even more on headcanons I have laying around if not just do drabbles / short scenarios for stuff I want to get out - probably extremely OOC of canon but this is what I picture everyone to be in this AU 😊

CW: relatively gender neutral here, the main series is insinuated fem!reader - just loose headcanons about the characters in this AU and how they interact or feel about you [NOT PROOFREAD]

General

The groups still fight because honestly, it’s hard to shake off that demon hate entirely but now it’s mostly relatively friendly sparring. Mostly.

Sometimes Romance plays with fire a little too closely and ends up getting his ass handed to him by Mira but he’ll say he loves it as she gets angrier, Rumi and Zoey finally having to play mediator and drag the taller girl away before she actually commits a crime against Romance

They all rely on you heavily for comebacks, you’re their favourite producer and they are terrified to try working with anyone else again after the last demos were leaked and they all sounded... horrible (thinking about EXO - Wolf where they tried to make it sound horrible so it wouldn’t be released)

You know their vocal strengths and weaknesses like the back of your hand, able to make them shine in whatever concept they’re aiming for so why wouldn’t they love working with you? Aside from when you get cranky because you didn’t get enough sleep and then it’s hard to talk to you because they don’t want you to start crying or yelling at them. Yeah you’re a bit of a wild card when you’re tired.... which is pretty frequently

The Saja boys often ended up on projects with your co-producer so over time you’d grown accustomed to seeing them in the building, which meant a lot more fleeting conversations between yourself and each boy - it broke the ice and it became easier to work with them over time

Saja boys

Jinu

Loser! (endearing)

He’s just a dork trapped in a hot body and I can’t unsee it, when he’s not in serious leader mode he’s just a goofball that likes to tease and poke fun at his friends or at you.

He tries to play it cool, he really does but he gets nervous and when he fumbles which makes him more nervous so he’ll go from “Hey..” to slipping or tripping over himself to stuttering to apologising and avoiding eye contact for the remainder of time together as he wishes he exploded in a dramatic display.

At first he was all about keeping things professional with you but it was hard to maintain a cool and collected image, when the other boys had stopped keeping up theirs. He steadily gave up and let his actual personality start to shine through when you poked fun at him, accusing him of not doing his best during recording sessions or even when he found himself at your place late at night just talking.

Talking about nothing in particular but everything at the same time and he just, couldn’t stop trying to come over to talk. If it wasn’t a bi weekly thing, it was a weekly thing and then nearly every other night he’d shoot a message asking if you’d want to come over to hang out with the guys (him) or if you wanted company while you worked.

Enjoys just being in your space, watching you work without you knowing (non creepy) and just the serenity of it. Kinda likes seeing when you get frustrated over a project and will try to help out by humming out the tune with you so you could hear it in a different key and if that doesn’t work, he rips you from your chair and says “Yup, break time.” and forces you to take a break by making you go out on a walk with him, a midnight food run, go to hang out with the chaos that is his boys, anything to get you to reset and refresh yourself.

Whenever he works on a project with you or stops by to hang out, he makes sure to grab you a couple of your favourite drinks and snacks to help get you through whatever grind you were locked in on and he’d sit back listening to you hum or record your demos and close his eyes to really hear you.. it was just pleasant and a highlight to his day when he could hear you sing.

Abs / Abby

I think he gets characterised as a meat head a lot but I think there’s more under the abs and muscles, seems like a big sweetie that struggles with being gentle sometimes.

During recording sessions it’s gotten to a point where you have to smack him and Mystery upside the head to stop roughhousing in the studio - the equipment is expensive and you are NOT paying for replacements.

He doesn’t exactly understand music on a technical level, completely going off of ‘vibes’ or whatever he thinks it is but he’s able to fix his mistakes with a few pointers and that’s it - probably one of the easiest out of the bunch to correct and he never takes offense to corrections.

He’s eager to work oddly enough? Likes to get things done and if he can help you with whatever projects you’re working on the side - hell yeah! he’ll show his dance moves if you want to see if a track is dance-worthy, he’ll provide backing vocals if you need a deeper voice on tracks and he’s happy to go buy you snacks too - just kinda a golden retriever with really nice muscles and a pretty smile.

You catch him looking at you when he thinks he’s being subtle but it’s never anything that really throws you off, he just seems intrigued by what you do - often asks questions about things about the hardware or software you’re using and when you’re in your personal studio you let him try and make a track himself, just a simple half minute track with samples you’ve already made and he’s so gentle with your equipment, worried he may not know how to handle the gear without breaking something but with your reassurance and guidance he makes a sample that he’s happy with and even goes to brag about it to the other guys.

Mystery

He’s quiet, holds himself surprisingly well as an idol aside from when he gets a little.. nippy - very prone to biting the other boys but he’s a softie towards you, the Huntrix girlies too even as they’re able to reel him in and make him stop trying to bite at fans.

He’s hard on himself - beats himself up a little more than the others do because sometimes it just doesn’t make sense and he feels dejected when everyone else is able to change things up on the fly without issue - words of encouragement mean something to him and sometimes when you’re really nice, you even pat him on the head or shoulder and he really melts for a second.

You’d gotten used to him being in your space, not in like an overtly invasive way it just seemed that he didn’t particular understand personal space - so used to latching off of his other members for promotional media or rough housing so he didn’t really get why at first you were jumpy when he leant in a little too close or if he leant on your shoulder or leg if it was available. He just kinda enjoys physical touch, not really knowing what it sometimes did to your heart.

He bit you once. 

Yeah, he bit you once. He wasn’t in a particularly good mood and he had a need to bite something, anything, and you had happened to be the closest thing to him because the other guys were at the back of your studio whilst he was seated nearby you. You didn’t notice him when he crawled up to you, too focussed on the song you were mixing to perfection when you felt a sharp sting on your outter thigh and you yelped. Startling everyone in the room and even the culprit who bit you, you stared at him - he stared at you (you think) and then you pointed to the door wordlessly. He got up and walked out of the room in shame, like a scolded puppy.

Romance

Everyone agrees he’s flirty, but I feel like Romance is a bit more of the awkward flirt when you match his energy.

He’s so used to everyone backing off or getting flustered, so if you throw something back at him? He’ll fumble, stammer over his next words as he tries to catch his breath because he was NOT expecting you to match his tone. After that he’s avoiding eye contact, it takes him a couple days before he’s back to teasing you in a flirty way and sending “send nudes?” to you randomly through out the week.

There had been a time where you were left alone with Romance and he had let his guard down, turned off the flirty persona all together and he was a lot more.. approachable? Enjoyable to be around even as you two just made small talk and he wasn’t batting his lashes at you, wasn’t trying to force physical affection onto you and just simply enjoyed your presence for what it was. You had to admit when he was being him and not the flirty idol everyone wanted to see, he was pretty attractive.

He gives theatre kid when he sings, playing things up, somehow too emotive when he sings but he is willing to take feedback and correct himself when he goes too far or if you catch on that he’s straining a note too much because he wants to commit - wants to show he can do it - which leads to you taking him aside and quietly and gently reminding him that his vocal cords need to stay healthy if he wants to continue singing. To continue shining. And he takes that feedback to heart, doing his best to actually go through vocal exercises to warm up his voice and being more mindful of the steps he takes into hitting higher notes or notes just barely out of range until he’s able to comfortably undertake them and when he does hit that note? He’s got a smug smile on his face as he looks at you with the most excited and adoring eyes.

Baby

Ipad kid. I see him as the kind of person that may have a bit of ADHD. something that stemmed from his past life maybe - always on his phone or doing something to divide his attention because going all in on something is harder for him.

He can’t focus if he isn’t doing something - fidgeting, playing a game, evening snacking on something - he just needs some kind of stimuli to lock in and that’s just kinda how he is.

When he talks to you he’s usually flicking his eyes between you and his phone, but he’s listening - able to give full responses to questions you have and has no issues regurgitating the information back to you or whoever is there that doubts he was listening.

He’s got more technical skill in music than the others guys but still a few levels under Jinu, he knows what works for him and isn’t opposed to switching things up if you ask him to but it takes a few tries before he’ll get it. He’s actually assisted in writing bars for you and even critiqued lines you’ve written and fixed songs for you. His flow is a lot more natural than yours and you had to admit, he was good at what he knew.

You’d actually introduced him to a group of underground rappers that yourself and a few producers in your building knew, he hadn’t shown any interest until he showed up to an impromptu session and really enjoyed the cyphers they had to come up with on the fly. The second time he went he had asked if he could record the session and send it over to you - the others were happy for him to do that and you could hear the joy in his voice as he shared a craft with like minded people in the snippet he recorded for you.

Huntr/x 

Rumi

She’s a little hard to talk to sometimes but it’s mostly because she can’t express herself earnestly, she tries but it’d be a lie if you and her hadn’t had misunderstandings here and there because of it.

As much as you love working with her, she loves working with you - absolutely bouncing off the walls when Bobby tells her and the other girls that they’ll be working on you for any project.

Also respectfully - girl failure when she isn’t putting up the perfect idol pretence because of her upbringing from Celine and often makes mistakes when its just the two of you, she feels comfortable enough to not force herself into a mould and has even had a voice crack here and there where you both laugh it off and let her redo the take.

You’d caught her when her voice was going through a rough patch, accidentally walked in when she was having a panic attack in the studio buildings’ bathroom and saw the patterns all over her arms - though you didn’t know what they were and complimented her ‘cool tattoos’ after you had held her in your arms and let her steadily calm down from her panic, after that whenever it had just been you and her she had become more comfortable with revealing her patterns to you. The comfort of you not knowing what they represented and treating her all the same was special to her, more than you’d ever understand.

Mira

She’s blunt, always has been but she likes to compliment you - not anything cheesy and over the top but just how much she appreciates your work and hopes that you’re doing well because even though you’re creating master pieces she’d rather you get rest instead of burning out

A bit rough and doesn’t always take well to criticism but is more likely to hear you out over anyone else, sometimes argues back but will still follow your guidance, gets embarrassed when you smile at her knowingly when you pick up on her following your advice

There had been a time where you got a text at 3am from her, asking if you were available for a call and you picked up only to hear her sniffly and gravelly voice as she just seemed to seek out comfort from your voice.. just something to help take the edge off of a fight she had with her parents over the phone over how embarrassed and disgusted they still were about her idol career. You let her talk before sharing your own insights, how your family felt about things and how often you’d feel insecure about your career path until you would walk down the streets and hear people humming along to a song you released and everything felt worth it again. How the right people could make everything feel worth it again. 

You’d grown closer after that call and she had unknowingly became more attached, always opting to go to you to express her more vulnerable side when she couldn’t bring herself to open up to Zoey or Rumi.

Zoey

She’s so loveable it’s almost painful, often messages you to ask for critique on lyrics she comes up with and if you have time to give her feedback on what she could fix lyric or timing wise.

She respects what you have to say and doesn’t take any negative criticism to heart but occasionally you catch it, the way her eyes lose their shine for a second when you say you weren’t a fan of something she came up with and she shrinks in on herself a little - you try to be careful with how you word it whenever it does happen but sometimes you just talk her through what could change and potential ideas you have; that you still think it was a good idea just maybe could use some polishing and that normally does the trick to get her back to being her bright self.

Sometimes she gets a little overwhelming, so used to her hectic idol schedule that sometimes she forgets that production is a different trainwreck and there’s been a couple times where you’ve had to draw a line and let her know that please do not message you for a day or two while you crunch through the deadline. She understood, apologising and sending a cute little fighting..! audio clip for you to hear and you laugh it off, able to get through your project before reaching out to her and asking about what it was she wanted to share with you - this time it was turtle videos she’d found and another time it’d be seal videos she’d found and rabbit holed. Endearing, truly.

[batsandbirdbrains]

do you ever think about how a lot of the stuff that people make fun of dick for is the stuff that ties him to his parents??? his name. his robin suit. discowing. like i need a scenario or fic or something where someone in the batfam says something about how dick has no shame or something because he never listens to anyone about his taste in fashion or something like thus. like they’re just going on and on about how dick needs to listen to other or get second opinions when he makes his costumes. they’re talking about how it’s so weird that so many people have dick time and time again how bad his costumes look and yet dick acts like the criticism doesn’t exist. and maybe dick blows up at them, maybe he explains it to them patiently, or maybe he just ignores them. but it’s hard for dick to hear the constant criticism whenever he tries to connect to his parents. in fact, the only thing that keeps him moving past the criticism is the fact that his costumes are a connection to his parents, and how could that be bad?? how could he ever look at his suits with anything other than love??

rahhhh i just see so many people on his suits and it makes me sad sometimes cuz like bro it’s for his PARENTS. they’re not even bad suits ☹️. let the man have a little pizazz as he honors the dead.

Well I didn’t rly before but now I am and I’m SAD ABOUT IT

I think people shitting on the Discowing suit would upset him the most. But instead of showing how sad it makes him, he only outwardly shows rage. He gets pissed, he shouts, he tells anyone who’s making fun of it that they just have terrible taste in fashion and they don’t see his vision.

Then maybe someone catches a glimpse of some of the Flying Graysons memorabilia Dick or Bruce have. And there’s a picture of John Grayson mid-flight. And the costume he’s wearing eerily similar to the Discowing costume they were just giving Dick shit about.

Then they see other photos, other promotional posters, maybe even a video or two. And the costumes are bright, colorful. The last costume they all wore as a family is reminiscent of the early days Robin costume.

And they just feel like shit. And when they try to apologize to Dick for it, he just blows up again and tells them the apology means nothing and they’re only saying it now because they pity him. And he storms out.

Maybe the only one who actually gets it is Bruce, because he always knew where Dick’s inspiration came from. He’s the only one who never gave Dick a hard time for the designs themselves, but just wanted him to have more armor or coverage or camouflage. He never once made Dick feel bad about basing the designs on his family’s costumes, never even insinuated it.

[magdlens]

CRY FOR ME ᝰ.ᐟ art donaldson.

 𝔀 𓏲 volleyball player!art ⸝⸝⠀ 𝓯𝓮𝓶. reader genre smut/hurt&comfort ─ 𝔀𝓬 2.8k infidelity, cheating, angst, yearning, unprotected sex, art being a munch, p in v sex, mad dirty talk ✶ lmk if i missed any!

✷ MAGS : i hate cheating tropes but i couldnt hold myself from writing pathetic art begging for forgiveness sns :(

Art Donaldson was never one to shy away from fun. He loved parties, the kind of easy chaos they brought. But this time, that attitude cost him a lot.

It had been one stupid kiss—one thoughtless, drunken moment at a party he barely remembered the details of. A friend of a friend had leaned in, and instead of pulling away, his judgment clouded by alcohol and the charged atmosphere, he’d let it happen. It was nothing, meant nothing, but the moment your tear-filled eyes met him after you found out, he knew he’d shattered something sacred.

Now, Art was a mess. Not the kind of mess people expected from the volleyball team’s most popular player. No, this was the kind of mess that followed sleepless nights and endless regrets. You had decided to forgive him after spending a few nights at a friend’s house, going back to his apartment with the promise that if he ever did that again he would never see you again. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit sad everytime you pictured him kissing another girl.

That’s why a part of you—a sadistic part that you’re not proud of—secretly enjoyed how he seemed to be doing everything he could to make you happy.

The first thing he did was cut ties with the habits that had led him astray. He stopped drinking, not even glancing at a bottle when he was out with friends. Then, he stopped going to the frat parties. No more late nights with old friends, no more excuses about it being “just a party.” He even turned down invitations that he knew wouldn’t involve alcohol or temptation, choosing instead to spend his evenings at home.

Home, where you still barely acknowledged his presence.

It didn’t deter him. Art threw himself into regaining your trust with an almost frantic energy. He woke up earlier than you every morning to prepare your coffee, meticulously remembering the way you liked it. On the counter, next to the cup, he’d leave a sticky note. Each one bore a variation of the same message: I’m sorry. I love you. Sometimes he wrote long apologies, pouring out his guilt in messy handwriting, and other times he kept it simple—just three words: Please forgive me.

He cleaned the apartment from top to bottom without you asking. The laundry was always folded, the dishes were washed and put away, and even the tiniest crumbs on the counter were wiped up. He’d never been one to notice the details before, but now he obsessed over them, desperate to make your life even the smallest bit easier.

When he wasn’t tidying or cooking meals you barely touched, he tried to anticipate your needs. If you were studying until late, he’d leave a warm meal on the table. If you mentioned something offhandedly—needing a new notebook or running low on your favorite snacks—he made sure they were waiting for you the next day.

Despite everything, a part of you couldn’t help but notice his efforts. There was something almost pathetic and adorable in how he clung to the hope of your forgiveness, trying to turn your cold answers into small talk, asking how your day was and if you needed anything.

What really made you falter was one particular evening when you were at home, buried in your notes. The steady rhythm of studying had managed to keep your mind off him for a while, but then your phone buzzed with a notification. You hesitated, torn between ignoring it and indulging in your curiosity.

Your resolve wavered the moment you noticed it was from Art—and it had a photo attached. Against your better judgment, you opened it.

The image stopped you in your tracks. It was Art in his volleyball uniform, sitting on the bench after what was clearly an intense practice. His golden hair was a disheveled mess, damp from sweat. His flushed cheeks glowed faintly under the bright arena lights, and the slight sheen on his face made it clear just how hard he’d been pushing himself. But it was his expression that struck you the most—those impossibly blue eyes, wide and pleading, gazing up at the camera like a scolded puppy seeking comfort.

Art: image_01.png

Art: miss you, babe. 

It made you bite your lip.

You couldn’t focus on anything else, deciding to stay up and wait for him with no plan in mind, not knowing if you’d want to talk about the state of your relationship or break up for good. You just needed to see him.

You found yourself sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the door. It wasn’t a conscious decision to wait for him; you’d just… ended up there, the quiet hope of seeing him again anchoring you in place. When the faint sound of his key in the lock finally broke the silence, your heart leapt. The door creaked open, and there he was—still in his hockey gear, his hair a little damp from the night air. He stepped inside softly, clearly trying not to make noise.

He thought you’d be asleep.

The moment he turned and saw you sitting on the couch, his whole demeanor changed. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, and then they softened, that familiar warmth slipping back into his expression.

“You’re awake?” he asked, his voice gentle, almost hesitant, as he shut the door behind him.

“I wanted to see you,” you admitted, your tone softer than you expected. 

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension that had built between you over the past weeks hung in the air, but it felt different now—fragile but not unbreakable.

Art took a tentative step closer, then another, until he was standing right in front of you. “I’ve missed you,” he said quietly, his voice raw with sincerity.

You looked up at him, the frustration and hurt you’d been holding onto starting to unravel. There was something about the way he stood there, still slightly flushed from practice, his eyes brimming with hope and vulnerability, that made it impossible to keep the wall around your heart intact.

“I missed you too,” you whispered, and the words were all he needed.

He sank down onto the couch beside you, his movements careful, as if afraid to push too far. But when you didn’t pull away, when you let him sit close enough for his knee to brush against yours, his hand reached out, tentative but firm, to take yours.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “For everything. I’ve been trying so hard to make it right, but—”

You cut him off by leaning into him, resting your head against his shoulder. It wasn’t an outright forgiveness, but it was enough for now. His arms came around you, tentative at first, then tighter when he realized you weren’t pulling away. For the first time in weeks, Art felt like he could breathe again. The weight of guilt that had been crushing him lifted just slightly, replaced by the warmth of your presence. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his silent promise to do better, to never hurt you again.

You turn your body in his direction, the back of his fingers caressed your cheek softly as if he’s trying not to break you. You see his eyes lowering and staring at your lips, he takes a deep breath before opening his mouth.

“Can I kiss you?”

You'd be lying if you said you didn't miss him, especially now looking at him, with the black compression shirt that he usually wears under his uniform so tight to his body you can see his pecs under it. Maybe spending some time apart did something good. You can't take your eyes away from the way he waits for your response with wide blue eyes and parted mouth, his hand now gripping your chin softly.

"Yes, Art, you can kiss me."

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, almost shy—so unlike the confident, teasing man you were used to. His lips brushed against yours gently, testing the waters, but the moment you leaned into him, your hand slipping to rest on his chest, it was as though the dam broke.

His other hand came up to cradle your face, his fingers threading into your hair as he deepened the kiss. The black compression shirt he wore was warm under your palm, his steady heartbeat thrumming against your touch. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself back, afraid to push too far too quickly.

But you didn’t want restraint—not now, not with him. You needed to feel he was yours. Only yours.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as his lips moved against yours with more urgency. His hand slid from your chin to your jaw, then down to your neck, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. He kissed you like he was trying to pour every ounce of his regret, his longing, and his love into the moment, and for the first time in weeks, you let yourself feel it.

Art pushes you gently so you're lying on the couch, his broad form towering over you as his hands grab your eyes, fingers deepening into your plump skin.

“Missed my pretty girl so fuckin’ bad,” he whispers against your neck. “You missed me, baby?”

You nod, “Yes, Art, so bad.” 

He seems happy with your response, licking his lips before pressing his thigh against your clothed core. It doesn’t feel awkward, not even after everything that led to your temporary separation. Being with Art feels like stepping into something both unfamiliar and deeply familiar all at once—like discovering something new yet instinctively knowing every part of it. 

You watch as he tugs his shirt up, tossing it aside so he can press himself against your body and feel your hands caressing his bare abdomen. Art gently pulls your top over your head, immediately pressing his face against your chest, desperately worshipping your breasts with his hands and mouth, lips wrapping around your nipple as his teeth softly graze against it to make you squirm.

He sucks on your chest with an almost sadistic attention, watching the purple-ish marks bloom in your skin until he's satisfied enough to trail the kisses down to your stomach.

"Want me to eat you out, baby?" he asks, piercing eyes looking up at your face, smirking when you spread your legs further so he can comfortably place himself between them. "Gonna eat this pussy so fuckin' good, baby, you just gotta let me, hum?"

Your toes curl at his furrowed brows and parted lips, like he's about to explode just from the possibility of fucking you.

"Yeah, do it, please,."

You see the way his eyes light up at your response, his fingers quickly find their way to your shorts and underwear, pulling them down together with one fast tug.

You've known Art long enough to know he's never one to shy away from intimacy, but watching him pressing his nose against your pussy and french kissing your clit was now definitely on the list of the hottest things he’s ever done. His warm tongue gave a good lick all over your cunt, coating the soft skin with his saliva so he can pay more attention to your clit. You feel the pad of his fingers spreading your labia, making it easier for him to close his lips around the and suck on it deliciously slowly.

“Please, please, please, oh my God!” Your hands desperately grab his hair, fingers gently tugging the white strands.

Art mewled against your pussy, moaning at how warm and wet you felt against his mouth. He would never get tired of this; just holding you down and burying his face into your cunt, feeling your scent sticking to his skin as he rubs his face against you, curiously discovering every little spot inside you that made you cry out as he inserts one finger inside you.

“Fuck, I could do this forever, pretty girl,” he lifts his head from your pussy, eyes sparkling at how well you take his fingers as he presses another one into you. Your eyes roll when his knuckles brush against your sweet spot, he scissors his digits with an almost scary expertise, as if he knows exactly what you wanted and how you wanted. “That’s it, baby, gonna cum on my fingers? Fuck, you look so good I wanna taste it when you cum.” 

“A-Art, don’t stop!” you plead as he fucks you faster with his fingers, thumb rubbing circles against your swollen clit.

“Not gonna stop, angel, not until you’re crying for me.”

You clench hard around his digits, feeling the heat growing inside your tummy as he thrusts his fingers a few more times until you cum, a broken moan escaping your lips, legs shaking, your cunt fluttering as it coats his fingers with your creamy arousal. Art curses under his breath and you can’t help but whine when he presses his face against your pussy again, cheeks and lips smeared with your juices. You watch him taking his fingers out of you and putting them inside his mouth, he hums in pleasure like he’s about to devour you.

Art always looks ethereal like that.

Sweaty glistening skin, chest breathing heavily and face stained with your own cum. And before you can blink he's all over you again, pushing your legs to your chest and freeing his hard cock from his sweatpants, not caring to take them off completely, not when you're all whiny and spread open in front of him. He holds his heavy shaft in his hand, rubbing the pink tip against your clit and coating it with your juices.

"Want this, sweetheart?" he asks, prodding your wet entrance with his cock which makes you roll your hips pathetically. "This dick is all yours, baby. How about you put it inside your little pussy, hum?"

Your face burns hot but you nod anyways, reaching for his cock and wrapping your palm around it, Art watches with hungry eyes while you line it up with entrance, rubbing it against your pussy for a few seconds before sliding it inside.

"Fuck," you bite your lip, just as entranced by the scene as your boyfriend.

"You always take me so well, baby. The best fucking pussy in the whole world." He teases, thrusting his hips forward and watching his own cock slipping in with ease.

Your eyes roll at the stretch, feeling your walls fluttering around his cock as he pushes your knees to your chest, putting you in his favorite position to fuck you. This way he can watch your pretty eyes watering as he fucks you against the couch, watch the way your pussy swallow his dick and rub your puffy clit with his thumb. It hits so deep inside of you that you swear you see stars every time you blink, all you see is Art's incessant thrusts against you as he supports himself on his arm on the side of your head.

"Fuck, cum on my cock, baby," he breathes, rubbing your clit vigoursly as he pounds with more strength, feeling his own orgasm getting closer with how warm and tight you feel around him, tears brinkling at the corner of his eyes. “Cum for me, baby, please? Be my good girl and cum on my dick, angel. Gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, fuck.” It's borderline madness, Art’s hips faltering as he curses, hard and paused thrusts watching you fall apart in front of his eyes and he can only think about how much he missed you. “Cum for me, baby, c’mon, pretty girl.”

Your body obeys him, following a hoarse groan that falls from his lips, nails sinking in his broad shoulders. He thrusts a few more times before cumming as well, locking his hips against yours as to keep his seed deep inside you, the warm liquid filling your insides. You can only try to catch your breath as Art holds you tightly against him, burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

“I love you so fuckin’ much,” he mutters with a shaky voice and you feel his tears dripping on your skin. 

Your arms wrap around him, kissing the top of his head.

For the first time in what felt like forever, things felt right again. And as Art pulled you closer, his nose brushing against your temple, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to each other.

[hongjoongspoetry]

ajhbdajhsbfjahdfja this was absolutely amazing, gosh the emotions I went through reading this, I hope though all my thoughts and comments makes sense cuz I'm dead tired from work as I'm writing this (apologies in advance if some of it doesn't make sense😅)

Girl you have nothing to apologise for. Never did I once expect someone to write a bible-lengthy "review" on one of my fics, but im so fucking here for it!!

First of all what a cool but also kinda scary concept of having a metal chip in your arm which showcases how much in danger your soulmate is in!! And the name?! Soulometer!! That's such a good name for it!!

Now that I think about it, I could easily have made it into a horror story instead- Thank you for the lovely comment, imo, I thought "soulometer" sounded silly but I couldn't come up with anything better 😭🩷

Not the mc having Hongjoongs laugh as her ring tone💀 but also lowkey iconic of her to just let it be and own it even if it means she might be put in some awkward situations from time to time when her phone rings.

AHAHAHAHAAH personally, id never do that. considering we both are from sweden, imagine if you were on the bus and hongjoong's maniac laugh just rings out during rush hour- I swear on my cat, I'd make the bus stop and then throw myself in front of it 😭🤭

The light bickering between her and Hongjoong as they speak while she's on her way home made me chuckle because it feels so natural and fun. They kinda sound like me and my friends when we text each other😅

Sidenote: Reading your reblog made me realize just how much value I put in creating "a good" friendship for my characters. BUT DUDE IM SO HAPPY TO HEAR MY DIALOGUES ARE SOUNDING SOMEWHAT NATURAL AND REAL. Creating a good and realistic dialogue has been one of my biggest "weaknesses" when it comes to writing, as I tend to want everything to be perfect. and we all know real life dialogues are far from perfect, considering incorrect grammar, usage of words and flow is being used in a convo. so thank you so much for saying that 🥹

Another thing, I literally live for your reaction memes 😭 They fit so well into every scenario you wanna comment or thought you wanna share 🙂‍↕️

"[...] A lot in his appearance changed, but the cuts and bruises remained, pouring acid on your tongue." The last sentence🥺😭 it's like the both of them can't believe that the other one is there. I think it's clear from the way Mingi is reacting to her being in front of him that this was not something he had planned. Not even sure he knew it was her place he was in front of... Oh I also get the vibe that despite her not wanting to see him her feelings are conflicting with each other, like a raging storm within which cannot decide which way to go.

I love that your vibe/gut feeling is correct! Fate (literally) and the magic sprinkle of the soulmate bond brought them together 😈 Like they can't avoid each other forever, and Mingi knows that, obviously, but the MC thinks everything is just a coincidence 🤭

I do believe a part of her is relieved to see him hence why she invites him in to her home. Because even when you're sometimes furious at someone who hurt you in the past you might still be yearning to know they're okay, thoughts floating to them from time to time as you might reminisce on the past. I do believe both of them have been doing that from time to time even if one of them might not admit to doing it.

YES! And pair that off with the fact that they are soulmates. They are literally born to be together (whether it's romantic or platonic). They are the one song stuck in their minds that they can't stop hearing in their heads, no matter what. Their meetings are inevitable and all of their choices would lead up to them meeting again. So the MC inviting Mingi to her apartment, was both her own doing but also an invincible pull from the soulmate bond.

HAHAHAHAH I CANT GET OVER THE BLUSHY MEME PICTURES- WHY DOES THE POKEMON LOOK SO FREAKING MISCHEVIOUS AFKHAEKF

And the thumb on his lips moment!! Excuse me while I go giggle a bit to myself before composing myself lol🤭💓

The thumb on the lip moment is an event that lives rent free in my mind. Like it can either be a perfectly good move or a disatser 😭 But I love to use it 😈

I also am getting the vibes here that Mingi is not over her at all, mc might be closer to letting him go but Mingi is giving me the vibes that he truly never forgot about her and wants a relationship again but is unsure of how to proceed or how to even mend what has been broken in the past, you know.

Yeah, Mingi never really forgot about her. Like she was the one that got away and he has literally no one to blame but himself. And it takes so much on him because he knows they are destined for each other. As much as it hurts him to be selfless, it also hurts him to be selfish and "keep" her with him... my mingi 😔

Not Jongho and Wooyoung distracting her with all kinds of antics💀😭 but also those two are like the best combination of distraction because Jongho tries at first to gauge and see if she wants to talk and when the answer is no he immediately goes on to distract her in different ways together with Wooyoung. Like what do you mean Wooyoung slid her a package of gummies before sprinting out of her office?!😭 that's adorable and would get anyone in a better mood🥺💕

Wooyoung would literally KILL for his friends, so I just had to include him here. And Jongho, even if hes the youngest in the group, I feel like hed go over and beyond to help his members/other people he keeps close to his heart. And if that's not enough, what better combo than two menaces 😭 I also feel like we don't get to see Jongho be included, even if hes a "side character", and I really enjoy writing Jongho whether its his fic or not.

*sniff* he cares so much about her, he even got her tangerines😭 and PEELED ONES AT THAT?! 😩💓 he loves her so much like that's true love right there, even as a teen the fact that he took his time to get her her favorite fruit cuz she didn't eat lunch and then go on and peel it and make sure it's completely "naked" with no white parts and all of that jazz. It's acts of service like this that imo shows how much someone really cares and in this instant I feel like Mingi cares so much about her, probably memorizing small details like this one. Eg. he could have just given her the tangerine and not done anything more than that but no he knew her preferences and decided to make sure it was the way she liked it before giving it to her to eat.

"HE NEVER FORGOT ABOUT THE TANGERINES!!!!" I scream as they drag me to the dungeon. No, but fr, that would be my sign to return to my ex, boxing or no boxing. Listen, everyone, get yourself a partner like Mingi who pays attention to the smallest of details and who actually listens to you.

That must have been so terrifying, realizing that first of all your ex boyfriend and potentially first love is your soulmate and then realizing if you don't do anything now you'll potentially loose him forever if the soulometer is anything to go by. Sprinting as fast as you can as the world is probably moving in slow-motion as you hope you won't be too late in body slamming your soulmate so the car won't hit him. What a scary feeling that must be and oh so overwhelming with everything hitting you at once.

Literally imagine you find your soulmate and are on the brink of losing them in the same SECOND. Bro, I fear I'd never recover mentally. Like id be gone- And if it wasn't a fluff event, believe me Mingi would've died then and there. Just because im a menace who loves angst. But that's not related to this rn AHAHAHH. but yes, I really tried to explain the panic and fear the MC was in while trying to save her soulmate, and I hope I did at least convey some of it :3

And Mingi making sure to protect her with his hand protecting her head and the other one going around her waist to make sure she won't hit the ground too hard🥺

One thing about me I will always write gentleman!teez. I believe in gentleman!teez supremacy til the day I die and no one can convince me otherwise.

I'M GOING THROUGH IT HERE😭😭 Mina how can you do this to me😭 I need them both to never get into a single bad situation ever again I don't think my heart could take it💔

IM SO SORRY ESTHER!!! 😭 (muhahahahehehhehehe😈😈😈)

SO HE DID KNOW😭

HE KNEW ALL THIS TIME!!!! DOESNT THAT MAKE EVERYTHING HURT TEN TIMES MORE

oh boy... mc is so valid in her anger but I'm so conflicted because Mingi obviously loves her so much so he must have a good reason as to why he didn't tell her. Perhaps he felt as if he was only hurting her and that she didn't deserve to be with someone who only made her worry and get upset but at the same time that's not something he gets to decide all on his own without telling her first...

bro... did you like hack into my google documents planner? because why the hell have u been correct in every theory?? What is this sorcery????

asking shyly for permission to kiss someone is one of the best tropes to ever exist😌💕✨

On god, I don't even want a kiss if the other party doesn't ask like a lil nerd... LIKE YES OFC KISS ME DAMMIT KHFWKEJF

I'm in shambles at the ending😭 what a perfect ending to their story Minaaa😭😭💓💓 this was so good, so amazing the tension, the past coming back, the love between them and the way they care so deeply even if there is anger between them. ughhhh just everything 💗 Honestly just amazing spectacular and just everything you'd need in a soulmate au🥰

Thank you so much Esther. For reading and taking the time to write everything down. From your thoughts to the amazing pictures. I honestly can't thank you enough and I don't even deserve you 🩷🥹

Sparks and Bruises | Song Mingi

🥊 Summary: In a world where everyone at the age of eighteen gets a metal meter implanted on their wrist that shows the amount of danger your soulmate is in. You and Mingi have known each other since high school, but went through a nasty fallout after his love for boxing turned into a dangerous gamble with his life as the price. Years later, you stumble over his injured form on the doorstep of your apartment building. Not having the heart to turn him away like all those years ago, you invite him inside with the intention to clean his wounds, but get a lot more than you bargained for.

🥊 Pairing(s): Underground boxer!Mingi x Real estate agent!Reader, brief Hongjoong x Seonghwa

🥊 Genres/Tropes: Soulmate AU, non-idol AU, second chance AU, fluff, exes to friends to lovers, angst (more than what I planned on)

🥊 Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), reader is allergic to peanuts so go with it for the plot, brief description of bruises and cuts, explicit language, crying, kissing, car accident, pet names (love, sugar, sweets), mentioned hospital, flashbacks, not beta read

🥊 Wordcount: 12.5K

🥊 Author's Note: Click the image for a better resolution (Tumblr I hate you). I just got off work (it's like 10 pm here), so I'm super tired and can barely keep my eyes open. Anyway, this is the last instalment of the Cherry Blossom March Event and while I'm sad it's over, I'm also happy because now I can focus on finishing my other stories!! A big thank you to everyone who took the time out of their day to read, leave notes and comments on my works <3 Btw I am no real estate agent and everything you read in this fic is based on excessive research (which could very well be wrong).

This is all fiction and not meant to represent any idols involved in any way or form. This work is rated SFW, however it contains explicit scenes, not sexual content but descriptions of minor injuries as well as matures themes. Minors, please, read at your own risk and refrain from interacting or following my blog!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard

The arrow inside the plate on your wrist, no bigger than a lighter, irregularly traveled back and forth, going from one end of the meter to the other. For some, it would be worrisome and  concerning, but for you, it was the opposite. You had yet to meet your soulmate. The person responsible for the occasional spike in your soulometer — the metal chip showing how much danger your soulmate was in. A mandatory procedure ordered by the government a couple of decades ago, probably one of the dumbest things the rulers of the world ever implemented into society.

“We have thought it over and… We’ll sign the contract!”

You were startled as the couple attending your showing returned from their not-so-private discussion on the other side of the kitchen. The faceless person you were supposedly destined to be with — as much as a machine could decide your destiny — occupied your thoughts more often than not, even while at work.

You put on your million-dollar smile and clasped your hands together. “Perfect. Shall we set a date for you to sign the papers then?”

The couple was expecting and in need of a bigger place than their flat, which could barely fit the two of them. After many buts and ifs, the newly wed pair eagerly agreed and a date was set. You didn’t usually have showings late into the night, but considering the husband worked early mornings until late evenings, and the wife wanted him to be present, you made an exception. Money was money, after all, and you were always in need of it.

Declining their offer to drive you home, you bid the happy couple goodbye and locked up after yourself. The apartment wasn’t too far from your place and you didn't think it would be necessary to order a cab for a ten minute walk despite it being quite late. The stiletto heels you decided to wear that morning made it feel like thirty instead and you quickly regretted being a cheapskate. Why did you have to make your life more insufferable than it already was? You only needed the sky to open up and let a waterfall of rain seep down on Seoul. At least you were smart enough to wear pants and a turtleneck instead of a dress or skirt. Despite it being late March where flowers decorated the bland parks and the trees grew out their long-awaited hair again, it felt like the start of winter. 

“This is what you get for listening to Iggy Azalea,” you hissed to yourself as a familiar burn spread through your pinky toes and the back of your feet.

A crazed laughter cut through the chilly air and you automatically reached for the phone in your purse. Setting the ringtone as your best friend’s giggle was a good idea when you were still in high school and just recently turned eighteen. It wasn’t as fun when you were a woman of twenty-something-something years old with an image to uphold and your face plastered on a few boards all through town with your phone number scribbled beneath in big, bold font followed by a text literally begging people to reach out. You swore to change it every time someone called, but the thought always got lost in the shuffle of your other hundred tasks waiting to be done.

You braced yourself for it to be another client calling in the dead of night, but it turned out to be one of your saved contacts. Swiping right and putting the phone up to your ear, you answered with a tired, “Hello.”

“Finally! She answers!”

“Some of us still have work, Hongjoong. Do you know how many times I had to apologize for my ringtone?”

The identical maniac laugh recorded into your phone years ago, erupted from the device and you rolled your eyes. 

“And yet you never change it. After all these years, you still have my voice as your ringtone… That’s quite romantic.”

“Watch it or I’ll have a wild Park come for my head.”

“Seonghwa would never do that.” You let the line fall silent and Hongjoong could hear your pointed look on the other side. “Okay, he probably would. Where are you anyways?! I can hear cars in the background.”

So the bass boosted headphones hadn’t ruined his hearing yet. All those times he ignored you were on purpose then. Good to know.

“I’m on my way home from work. Had a showing a few minutes ago and it went well actually.”

Another voice accompanied Hongjoong on the other line, but you couldn’t quite make out the words. 

“Seonghwa is scolding you for not calling one of us to drive you home and I have to agree with him, sprout. It’s not safe to be out this late.”

The nickname sent you down memory lane dating all the way back to middle school, when you and Hongjoong were the shortest kids in class but didn’t let that hinder you from showing off your talents and wits. Hongjoong a smart kid who excelled in everything from math to musical history while you burned everyone in debates, presentations, speeches, basically anything relate to public speaking. Hence your choice of profession.

“I know, but it really slipped my mind and it’s not even that far from my flat, I promise. Like I’m almost there, just a few more minutes. I can practically see the building lights from here.”

“Good. Stay with me on the call until you enter though. Now, let me tell you about this guy who tried to steal my laptop…”

If he could, Hongjoong would have talked for hours which was quite rare. The man was usually drained from being cooped up in his studio all day, running on zero sleep and five iced coffees. It was in fact how you became friends. 

The kid with round chipmunk cheeks and a menacing smile approached the girl sitting in the back of the class, not making a peep. Hongjoong kicked up a conversation by complimenting the pink bows in your hair — a little detail none of your other classmates had noticed, let alone found them pretty — and offering you a peanut butter cookie that you sadly had to decline because of your allergies. Instead of ending the interaction at your meek thank you, Hongjoong took it as an official proposition of becoming friends. Seven year old Hongjong refused to go back to his seat and even nearly threw a tantrum in class, leaving the homeroom teacher with no other choice than to make you seatmates. 

You and Hongjoong quickly became a duo. Wherever you went, he followed. It marked the start of a long lasting friendship you wouldn’t trade for the world. 

“...Can you imagine that?! He grabbed my stuff and proceeded to lie straight to my face!”

You hummed into the phone at his rambling. A smile graced your face as you neared your apartment building, but disappeared quickly. Hongjoong’s voice became background noise as you slowed down. A figure dressed in all black and a hood thrown over their head sat at the doorsteps. Both arms planted on their knees and head shoved into the palms of their hands. The person was on the taller side and looked quite buff beneath the baggy clothes. You didn’t recognize them as one of your neighbours, but the swooping feeling in your stomach hinted on something else. 

Not heeding Hongjoong’s previous warning of being cautious, you decided to approach the stranger. The clicking of your heels interrupted the peaceful silence of the night and the person immediately looked in your direction. Sharp and angry eyes met yours, and the furious spark swirling in them morphed into surprise. Your heart jumped in your throat as you recognized the person. Of all the people in the world, you certainly didn’t expect to find him at your doorstep.

“Hongjoong? I’ll have to call you back.”

“What? Why? What happened?”

“Nothing– Or well, something, but nothing dangerous– I’ll just call you back okay?”

“...You sure?”

“Yes, one hundred percent.”

“Okay. Talk to you later then.” 

You quickly pressed the red button and lowered your phone. The man was still staring at you, the fear that his imagination was playing a trick on him lingering. That if he looked away, you’d disappear from his line of sight.

Sweat spread along your palms and your pulse was loud in your ears as you walked up to the man.

“Mingi?” 

He scrambled up to his feet and took hold of the railing with one hand while the other pressed against his left rib and a surprised wince slipped through his lips. 

“Long time no see, huh?”

Your eyes darted all over him. Red and blue blemishes covered almost the entire surface of his face and trickles of sweat ran down the side of his face. You didn’t want to think what hid beneath his clothes. 

The last time you saw him was all the way back in high school. A scrawny boy with legs for days, but the coordination of a newborn foal and a smile that lit up your world. The man before you grew into his big features and lost the youthful look. The pointy nose and plump lips were still there, but accompanied by prominent cheekbones, a sharp jaw, a piercing gaze and a chiseled face that wasn’t the shape of a triangle. His hair, once black and short, was now a dark shade of brown and longer than ever, reaching below his nape and bangs falling over his brows. A lot in his appearance changed, but the cuts and bruises remained, pouring acid on your tongue. 

Ignoring the bitterness pooling in your stomach, you decided to keep the conversation civil. A stark contrast to how your last encounter went. 

”Are you… alright?”

“Yeah, no, I was on my way home, but just needed to sit down…”

You weren’t going to pry despite clearly seeing he was anything but alright. If he didn’t want to tell you, who were you to force him? 

Offering him a light smile, you tried keeping the tone light. “What are the odds of you sitting on my doorstep, huh?” 

“Yeah… How long has it been since…”

“Four? Five? Five years.”

Mingi whistled lowly and a silence occupied the street. Everyone decided to stay in as no cars or other people lingered around. You wouldn’t say it was uncomfortable, but it wasn’t pleasant either and you didn’t know what to do. Leaving him out in the cold wasn’t an option, but inviting him didn’t sound right either. After a long fight between your brain and heart, you decided to listen to the beating organ in your chest.

“Wanna… come up? To my apartment.”

Mingi looked up at you through his fringe and the soft roundness to his eyes teleported you back to high school. Keeping your composure, you hastily added on to the sentence.

“T-To, to clean up and maybe have something to eat?”

Had someone asked you five years ago what you’d say to Mingi if the opportunity presented itself, you surely wouldn’t have invited him to your home or offered him a free meal. The most he’d get out of you would be a one-finger salute. Fast forward one thousand eight hundred and twenty five days and Mingi was lent a helping hand instead. It was enough time for you to mature into a more rational woman who could, for better or for worse, put her feelings aside and think with her brain. 

Mirrors surrounded the entire inside of the elevator, even on the doors, and you held back from laughing at the reflection. There couldn’t have been an odder pair than you two. Mingi, dressed in all black with colorful blotches decorating his intimidating face, and you, wearing designer from head to toe. Even your bags were opposites — his a dingy gym bag that was a thread away from falling apart and yours from the recent Louis Vuitton collection. It was quite a funny look, but not a bone in your body vibrated with glee.

As the elevator doors closed and the mechanism carried you up the many flights of stairs, the reality dawned upon you. A multitude of questions you hadn’t thought of before inviting Mingi inside popped up like mosquitoes during summer nights — annoying, but unavoidable. The poor attempt of convincing yourself it was just a kind gesture, a friend helping a friend, you couldn’t shoo away the nagging fact that nothing of your and Mingi’s past was platonic. Shame and guilt curled in the pit of your stomach. Knowing your soulmate was out there somewhere, probably waiting for you, while you were cozying up to a man who wasn’t meant to be yours in the first place was sickening. 

The ding of your arrival sounded through the speakers and you quickly went first with Mingi hot on your heels. Unlocking your front door, you threw the keys in a bowl the shape of a fish — a housewarming gift from Hongjoong — and stripped your outerwear. It was first when you put your stuff aside that you realized Mingi was still standing by the door and hadn’t moved since crossing the threshold. The man was shamelessly taking in his surroundings and you wondered what he thought of your apartment. Was it to his liking? Did it suit you? Did he like it? Why did you care?

“Uhm, you can just hang your stuff here,” you gestured to the coat rack mounted to the wall, “while I get dinner ready.”

You didn’t wait around to see him subtly nod, instead you made an escape to the safety of your kitchen. It was weird having Mingi over. It was weird being civil to one another. The tension was still there since your last encounter, like static in the air that wouldn’t really go away. The soft pad of feet grew louder and you threw a look over your shoulder to see Mingi in the doorway, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and eyes darting all over the place. Aside from his appearance, it seemed that his habits hadn’t changed — good as bad — but it wasn’t your place to pry. Not anymore.

“Is it alright if I… wash up now?”

A heat crawled up your neck and attacked your cheeks. “Y–Yeah, of course!” You cleared your throat and continued, “The bathroom is on the left of the hallway and there are towels in the cupboard above the washing machine.”

Mingi nodded, but didn’t budge from his spot. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and leaned against the doorframe to take on a relaxed posture, yet he looked anything but relaxed.

“I… I– Uhm, don’t… I kinda don’t have a spare set of clothes to change into…”

“Oh… Oh!”

“Yeah,” he inhaled sharply through his teeth, a low hiss escaping as he tried to ignore the stiff atmosphere. 

“That’s alright! I think I have something you can use. Uhm, you can start washing up while I see what I can do.”

Rummaging through your closet for your brother’s clothes to lend Mingi wasn’t something you ever imagined doing in all your years of living, but here you were. Hunched over, searching like a madwoman for an extra hoodie and some basketball shorts or a pair of sweatpants that wouldn’t be too small on the giant currently occupying your bathroom. Your brother had been in your apartment a grand total of three times and by some stroke of luck, he’d left behind clothes he thought might come in handy for his next visit. Who knew they’d be useful for more than just that? 

You didn’t find a hoodie, but you did spot a black compression shirt and a pair of matching sweatpants that would have to do. You just hoped they wouldn’t be too tight. To be on the safe side, you even snagged one of your brother’s boxers. It was one thing to share clothes and another thing to share underwear, but if you got to choose, you’d happily accept the fresh pair instead of reusing your sweaty undies. The choice was up to Mingi in the end. With the clothes neatly folded in your hands, you marched toward the bathroom and triple knocked on the door.

“Uh, I found some clothes you can use!”

The harsh drops of the shower abruptly stopped and you patiently waited for a response, but nothing came. You raised your hand, fingers balled into a fist, and as you swung it forward to knock again, the door suddenly opened. A cloud of steam escaped from the hot bathroom and Mingi’s very naked body appeared in the slight opening. His stomach was a perfect display of muscle, each of the six abs sculpted like marble. You would’ve ogled longer hadn’t the raspberry and plum colored blemishes covered a huge part of his toned skin. His hair dripped on the tiled floor and a white towel hung dangerously low on his hips. The warmth tickling your whole body evaporated into a numbing cold at the bruises. Swallowing nervously, you forced your eyes back up. 

Mingi flicked his head sideways to move the wet strands from his face and his tongue darted out to lap at his dry lips, a motion you followed attentively. The raise of his brow, a silent question urging you to speak up, had you stumbling over your words.

“S–So, I... I, uh, found something you can… change into!” 

The clothes were thrust harshly into his bare chest, and Mingi nearly dropped the towel in order to catch them. Before he could utter so much as a "thanks," you bolted back to the kitchen and whipped out leftovers from last night. Anything to keep you busy and distracted from the jaw-dropping image that refused to leave you alone. Mingi eventually joined you in the kitchen. He leaned against the counter beside the stove, where you guarded the kimchi stew from overheating, and crossed his arms over his chest. The already prominent muscles grew more defined beneath the tight fabric. It was difficult to ignore his gaze peering down at you, and you couldn’t decide if your cheeks flared from a natural bodily reaction or from the heat of the stove.

The circular table behind you was already set, with a pair of utensils and plates aligned opposite each other. You removed the pot and placed it in the center of the table, silently beckoning Mingi to take a seat. His hair was still wet, but not dripping and despite wearing clothes, you couldn’t muster up the courage to look him in the eyes. The late dinner was done in a deafening silence interrupted by the clink of utensils and lip smacking. Not able to bear the thickness in the air, you cleared your throat and asked the first thing to pop up in your mind. 

“Um… do you... want me to treat your bruises?” 

The confidence you spent years mastering and using in your daily life deflated like a dramatic balloon flying around the room until it fell limply on the floor. Mingi was mid shoving food into his mouth and froze as soon as the words reached his ears. His lips were parted enough for you to catch a glimpse of his slightly crooked front tooth and a wave of nostalgia hit you square in the nose. The man before you had changed so much, yet not at all.

Mingi took a bite of the kimchi and rice to buy himself time to think your proposal over. It wasn’t a bad shout as you did have experience treating his wounds considering you were the one tending to him back in high school. He slowly chewed and swallowed, and you were starting to regret ever opening your mouth.

“Sure,” he answered while giving his full attention to the bowl of stew before him and you  couldn’t have been more relieved. He didn’t have to see the way you bit the inside of your cheek, tightly gripped your spoon or raised your brows to your hairline.

The rest of the meal was eaten in silence and for once, you didn’t care if it wrapped around your throat and suppressed the air from entering your lungs. This was all so surreal. There wasn’t a day where you thought you’d be eating left-over kimchi stew with your ex-boyfriend and then agree to treat his wounds — the thing that drove you apart all those years ago. The universe worked in a funny way. Instead of bringing you closer to your soulmate, it led you straight to the past. 

Putting the bowls in the sink, you gestured for Mingi to return to the bathroom while you put away the dishes. It hadn’t dawned on you that by helping Mingi treat his wounds, you’d have to merge your personal bubbles into one and actually touch him, even if it was as much as a graze of your fingertips along his skin.

Rounding the corner of the hallway and stopping before the entrance to the bathroom with a medkit in your hands, you were caught off guard by the image before you. Mingi was seated on the toilet lid, hunched over with his forearms resting on his thighs. You could see the top of his head — something you rarely did back in high school — as he faced the tiled floor. A swoop in your stomach urged you to run your fingers through his strands, but the impulse was quickly shut down. You stepped into the bathroom with feigned confidence. Mingi looked up as your sock-clad feet came into view, your big toes wiggling nervously. You placed the kit on the sink and grabbed the things you needed, starting with alcohol wipes. There wasn’t much you could do about the colored bruises already turning an ugly shade of yellow and purple, but the few cuts — like the one on his bottom lip and around his eyebrows — were easier to treat.

“This may sting,” you whispered, shuffling closer to him.

Mingi parted his legs to give you better access to his face. You put a finger beneath his chin and tilted it upward before gently dabbing the wipe against his brow ridge. A hiss filled the bathroom, but you didn’t stop cleaning the wound. Despite not being in this situation since high school, when Mingi would get his ass beat in the boxing ring and show up at your door with new cuts adorning his face every other weekend, you still remembered all the steps of the treatment. They were etched into your spine and controlled your limbs without a strain.

Your lips were pressed into a thin line, your brows almost touching from how deeply furrowed they were and Mingi wanted to smooth out the skin between them, but did no such thing. Instead, he diverted his attention elsewhere and focused on your lips, which he’d argue was the worse choice of the two. Scooping a generous amount of ointment on a Q-tip, you dabbed it on the cut and finished it off with a small band-aid that smoothly blended in with his hue. You tried to put off treating his lips, but apparently even Mingi had a limit to how many punches to the face he could take, and you eventually had to bite the sour apple and just get it over with.

It had been silent since you warned him about the sting from the alcohol wipes, broken only by a few of his grunts and hisses. Yet, the silence never felt as loud as it did in that moment when you cupped his chin in your left hand and stared intently at his plump lips. A determined heat swirled in your eyes and Mingi couldn’t look away. It took everything in him not to instinctively bite down on his bottom lip or run his tongue over it.

“Relax your lips,” you said, brushing your thumb along the bottom row. 

You didn’t realize what you had done until a second later and Mingi couldn’t chuckle at your appalled expression, as he was equally frozen in place. Both of you were left wide-eyed, mouths hanging open and brains going haywire. A pleading sparkle glimmered in his dark eyes, but you refused to give in, keeping your focus on his lips — lips that were so kissable. Warmth washed over you and there was nothing you wanted more than for the ground to swallow you whole. The weight of his burning eyes was too heavy for you to bear, so you tried to redirect the attention by doing the one thing you did best — talking.

“Are you still fighting?”

It seemed to do the trick as Mingi broke out of the captivating spell. In an exhausted tone, the one you’d hear between a couple constantly bickering and reaching their end, he breathed out your name.

“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

You hastily applied the ointment and retracted your hand, but Mingi was faster. He grabbed your wrist, his thumb landing on the soulometer in the quick act and an electric crackle burst where your skin connected. A beat or two passed before he decided to speak up.

“I am fighting, just not as much… I kinda feel bad for my soulmate.” The corner of his mouth pulled up in a faint smirk and a chuckle followed at his poor attempt of easing the awkward air.

Your heart dropped into your stomach and you didn’t think it was possible for it to go any further from there, but hearing the rest of his sentence proved you wrong. Before the hollow feeling could reflect on your face, you forced the corners of your lips up in a fabricated smile. An identical smile to the one caught in a multiple of billboards all over Seoul. 

“I wish mine would do the same. They always seem to find themselves in some trouble.”

A thick gulp ventured down his throat and the shaking panic in his eyes morphed into a forced calm. “I’m sure if they knew you were this worried, they’d stop running headfirst into danger.”

Five years had passed since the soulometer was injected into your wrist, enough time for your soulmate to change their ways, to stop giving their other half constant fear every night. Yet, it wasn’t the distance or the lack of knowledge about each other’s lives that weighed on your heart. The true reason lay deeper — your soulmate simply didn’t care enough to stop or perhaps they lacked the means to break free from the dangerous path they’d chosen. It was never about being physically apart, but about the emotional distance — the helplessness of knowing that, despite everything, they continued to surround themselves with danger. You didn’t have the heart to confide in Mingi about it, to express the quiet ache you carried, because saying it aloud would mean admitting that the person you loved was still caught in a cycle they couldn’t escape, or didn’t want to. 

Truthfully, Mingi was also the last person you wanted to confide in about the matter.

“I guess so.”

The brief and accidental encounter with Mingi was supposed to stay a long lost media in your brain, cluttered together with other minor memories. That was what you told yourself as Mingi left your apartment, sweaty clothes in a trash bag and belly full of warm leftovers. The version of him you remembered from all those years ago still lived on in your imagination, the bitter note of how everything ended, a constant reminder as to why the encounter should just be that — short, consistent and insignificant. As the morning sun peeked from between the high buildings and the dark sky bleed out to a baby blue hue, you’d return to your everyday life of selling apartments while the dishwasher rinsed the memory of what occurred in the space of your four walls. 

The open PDF on the computer screen illuminated your face and the bazillion numbers would’ve been overwhelming if your mind wasn’t occupied by the thoughts of a certain man with feline-shaped eyes and annoyingly juicy lips. Whatever you did — drown yourself in work, spend time with Hongjoong and Seonghwa, try out the new restaurant in town — nothing was good enough to forget Song Mingi and that night. The situation just felt so right. A domestic reality you yearned for since you graduated high school and moved into your own flat. The wish to have someone by your side, to stuff your face in greasy food, stay up late at night and watch a plethora of rom-coms while cuddled up to them, and sleep until the sun was high in the sky. Mingi re-awakened those feelings you locked away in a chamber behind your heart.

A stack of papers fell on your desk with a thud and pulled you out of your wishful thinking. Jongho, your freakishly strong colleague, plopped down on a vacant plush sofa that was mainly there for clients to use while discussing potential deals.

“You excited to get drinks after work?” He asked, tugging on his perfectly made necktie.

You massaged your forehead, completely having forgotten about the collective outing you and your co-workers had every month. “Is that today?”

“Whoa, don’t tell me you, the most unforgettable person I know, forgot about our end-of-the-month-party!? Woo is gonna have a blast when I tell him!”

Jongho didn’t question your sudden loss of memory at first. The younger agent found the situation perfect for a round of teasing or perhaps even as future blackmail material. Concern flashed in his eyes when you made no attempt to defend your honor and instead buried the rest of your face in the palms of your hands.

“Hey… is everything… alright?”

“Yeah… No? I don’t know.” 

Something was really wrong because you were never tired. In fact, Jongho had never seen you without a smile or a spring in your step. You were always collected, whether it was your clothes, hair or mood. Fire alarms went off in his head and plans be damned if he didn’t at least try to figure out what was going on. It was easier said than done, though, because he didn’t know how to approach the topic and ended up sitting there with his mouth parted like a fish out of water. The overthinking was starting to trigger a headache, so he settled on the simplest, but hopefully, most effective question he could think of.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No.” Your reply was instantaneous. “I need to not think about it.”

A mischievous gummy smile spread across his face. “You just signed yourself up for regret, my dear friend.”

As you were about to ask to elaborate, he cupped his hands around his mouth and called out for the biggest menace in the company.

“Wooyoung-ya!”

Albeit curious, the pair didn’t try to fish out context clues or the story behind your emotional state. Wooyoung lived up to Jongho’s promise of making you regret joining them for drinks and it didn't stop there. They both continuously visited your office throughout the rest of the shift. Wooyoung would nonchalantly enter the room as if he didn’t have anything up his sleeve, step up to the window and inspect the wilted plant burning up from being in the sunlight for too long, when he was actually throwing you curious glances from the corner of his eye. Then, before quickly taking his leave, he’d subtly slide you a packet of gummies and run as if his life depended on it. One would believe you were engaging in some shady transaction that would definitely make you both lose your real estate license. 

Jongho was a different story. The youngest of the trio wasn’t good with his words, but the affection could be read through his actions. Although they were questionable. He, too, invaded your room in subtle fashion and touched everything that didn’t require human contact — your Sanrio figurines, picture frames, ornaments still up from Christmas. While it was annoying in the moment, their antics kept you from circling back to the one person who had made his grand return after five years of radio silence. Good thing you hadn’t planned on rekindling that flame ever again. But what was written in your calendar didn’t align with the universe. 

The happy hour had ended a while ago, and while Jongho and Wooyoung made sure to get you home first, your stomach rumbled the second you stepped foot into the apartment. What better meal to have in a tipsy state than some ramen? 

The trip to the corner shop was supposed to be quick and relaxing — a weak attempt to distract yourself from the headache blooming at the back of your head. Perhaps that was why you weren’t fully aware of your surroundings, stumbling into racks displaying different flavors of chips and accidentally knocking things out of place. You purposefully ignored the scorching gaze of the cashier and hastily moved to hide between the aisles. But what you didn’t expect was for another figure to round the opposite corner, causing you to bump headfirst into them. The ramen cups and energy drinks piled up in their basket tumbled to the floor, and you quickly crouched down to gather as many things as your arms would allow.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!”

The person didn’t say anything and you expected them to be very annoyed, but that wasn’t the case. The familiar face looking down at you with a tight-lipped smile caused you to freeze on the spot.

“Hey.” Mingi flared his fingers in what was supposed to resemble a wave, but it came off more awkward than intended.

A painful cramp fluttered at the back of your neck as the position wasn’t the most comfortable, your head craned uncomfortably as you looked up at him, the strain making it feel like it might snap at any moment. Yeah, the university wasn’t on your side.

“Here.” 

He knelt down to be at your level, though it would never really match, and urged you to place the belongings in the basket. It was impossible to tear your eyes from him, but Mingi didn’t notice your stare as he gathered the unscattered snacks and drinks in the carrier. Once was a coincidence, twice is a pattern, you thought and swallowed thickly.

“Alright, let’s stand up.” 

He rested his arm on his propped-up knee, while the other hand was held out for you to take. On a count of three, you both stood up simultaneously and your hand immediately returned to your side. 

“What are you doing here?”

The question came off more like an interrogation than a casual inquiry and you winced at your loose tongue. Mingi didn’t seem to care though.

“Nothing much, just wanted a late night snack.” As if you didn’t understand, he grabbed one of the ten ramen cups in his basket and gently shook it. The contents rattling together and overpowering the whirring sound of the freezers. “What about you?”

“Ah, same here…”

Mingi glanced down at your empty hands and smacked his lips together, “Cool.”

“Yeah…”

The young cashier who couldn’t be older than a high school graduate nearly suffocated from the sudden thickness in the convenience store. 

“Uhm, you gonna get anything?”

“What? Oh! Right! Let me just…” You trailed off and darted over to the refrigerators, grabbing the first thing that came into view. 

You snagged a bag of shrimp chips on your way back too. Banana milk and shrimp chips, what a combination! The reasons for your late-night adventure had started with the craving for ramen, but somewhere between the aisle mishap and the distraction of other snacks, the noodles had been completely forgotten. In the meantime, Mingi moved over to the cashier register and patiently waited for the kid to scan his items. 

You shuffled behind him and Mingi turned sideways, one of his brows cocked up. “Here, give me that.” 

Before you could protest or dodge his advances, the items in your hands were stolen from beneath your nose and placed on the counter. 

“Hey, no, I can pay for that.”

“Don’t worry.”

“Mingi–”

“I said don’t worry about it.” There was a certain finality to his tone that told you there was no point in further arguing. Mingi swiped his card as the cashier packed your things in two separate plastic bags. 

Standing outside the Seven-Eleven, you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your coat, the handles of the bag clinging to your wrist. “You didn’t have to do that. I can pay for myself.”

Mingi’s breath escaped in a cloud of vapor, lingering in the cold air before it dissolved into the sky. The corner of his mouth lifted into a one-sided grin. 

“I know.”

Never letting you pay for anything was just another addition to the long list of habits he still clung to since high school. Mingi really hadn’t changed, and you couldn’t deny the disappointment that settled in as you witnessed it.

“Good. Then I’m leaving now. Good night.” You turned on your heel and began walking in the direction of your home.

“W–Wait! Let me walk you home.”

You didn’t spare him a glance. “No need for that. This is one of the safest neighborhoods in Seoul, actually.”

Another ‘I know’ died on his lips. If anyone on this earth knew how out of danger you were, it would be Mingi.

“T–That’s good, but... it would help me sleep at night if I knew you got home safely.” 

After all this time, you still had a hard time telling him no. Sighing, you shrugged your shoulders in defeat, your resistance crumbling despite yourself. “Fine, you can walk me home.”

The walk was short, but lasted longer than ever and you were regretting your choices of not standing your ground against him. You would never admit it out loud, but his dimpled smile and two moles were your greatest weakness and there was no way you’d ever win against them. 

Mingi cleared his throat. “What have you been up to? You know, since high school.”

“Have you thought about what college to apply for?” Mingi asked and intertwined his fingers across his abdomen.

“I don’t know,” you told him truthfully. 

You lay on the grass, staring up at the night sky. The black canvas was dotted with a million, billion stars, leaving no space untouched. It had been Mingi’s idea to go stargazing, but considering neither of you had a driver’s license or the energy to trek up a mountain in the middle of the night, you figured the view wouldn’t be any different from your backyard.

He turned to you and followed the outline of your profile. God, you were beautiful. “Really? How come?”

“I don’t know. I feel like there are so many options, like how will I know what’s good for me.”

“Whatever you choose, sugar, you’ll figure it out. You always do.” Now it was your turn to face him and he flashed you a reassuring smile.“Sometimes, the best choice is the one that feels right in the moment.”

“...Being with you feels right.”

Nothing could compare to back then. Sure, you experienced fleeting moments of happiness, but they didn’t last longer than the life of a snowflake. Did Mingi ask that to see if you were still stuck in the past? If your time together was the peak of your happiness? He didn’t get to do that. To slither his way into your heart and admire everything you had been through without him by your side.

“Nothing special. I’m a real estate agent, so I’ve been busy selling houses and apartments.”

“Nothing special my ass. That’s amazing. But what is expected of the smartest girl in our high school, huh? I always knew you’d achieve great things.” 

Blood pooled beneath your cheeks, burning hotter than a fever of thirty-nine degrees, and you hated how, despite everything, he still turned you into a giddy high school girl who made eye contact with her crush. To be fair, it wasn’t too far from the truth and that was a scary realization on its own. All it took was a measly compliment and you turned to mush.

“What about you? What are you doing these days?”

A silence stretched between you far heavier than anything you had ever felt before. It was as if the question had torn through some fragile barrier, leaving him exposed. His eyes, once sharp and filled with glee, now seemed distant, as though searching for something lost. You could feel the weight of the pause, like a storm brewing in the space between you. What was he really doing these days? More importantly, what had he been doing all this time out of your reach?

“A little bit of everything. Anything I can get my hands on, really.”

“You didn’t study after high school?”

“You know school wasn’t my strongest suit. Stuffy classrooms and obnoxious teachers talking my ear off never got me anywhere, I mean, I barely passed high school. I was more comfortable with my hands in motion and figuring things out as I went. School was ever it for me. It always felt like I was waiting for something that never came.”

Mingi wasn’t wrong. Although he was a smart kid, staying awake studying until the dead of night and then working an underpaid nine-to-five job wasn’t for him. But you couldn’t shake away the bitterness of how he threw away the opportunity of a normal life with you for a bloody ring and a life of unpredictability. The punches he took in that world weren’t just physical — they hit somewhere deeper, somewhere you couldn’t reach. You had always wanted something more stable, something real to hold on to, but Mingi had chosen the chaos, the fight, over everything else. Perhaps that was why the universe decided not to tie your red string to his pinky, knowing it would hurt you more than his decision.

Coming to a stop outside your apartment, the memory of your first encounter after a few years still fresh in your mind. 

“Like boxing?”

Mingi’s eyes softened, but he didn’t speak, his mouth pressing into a thin line. The silence between you both was heavy, filled with things unsaid. It was the kind of silence that made your heart ache, knowing that there was so much left unresolved between you, yet you couldn’t find the words to fix it.

“Good night, Mingi,” you finally said, taking a shaky breath as you turned back to your door again. 

The finality in your tone hung in the air like a weight neither of you could lift. You didn’t look back as you reached for the door handle, but you knew Mingi was still there, standing in the same place, holding onto the same regrets.

Reaching your apartment, you flicked on the lights and quickly discarded your outerwear. You turned on the switches in every room and placed the bag of goods on the kitchen table. 

Disappointment fueled every movement. Grabbing a pot from the lower cupboard, you filled it with water, not caring as it splashed everywhere. When you set it down on the stove, you didn’t bother being careful, letting it thud onto the surface. You waited — oh-so-patiently — for the water to reach its boiling point and shoved a hand into the plastic bag. The expected rustling of plastic and cold drinks didn’t come. Instead, you felt the hard, smooth texture of something else. Knitting your brows together, you took hold of the square object, no bigger than a container of pudding.

In your palm was a plastic box of peeled and cut oranges.

Your head rested on your folded arms, eyes cast on the baby-blue sky taunting you from behind the windows. It was a beautiful day. What a shame you were stuck in a room with thirty other kids and no air conditioning. Your homeroom teacher was late — an uncanny occurrence, considering she always emphasized the importance of being on time and never failed to follow through. Until today.

The door to the classroom slid open with a thud, but the class had yet to quiet down, and by that single reaction, you knew it wasn’t Ms. Choi who had entered. The previously loud chatter of your friend group turned into hushed whispers and skittish snickers that reached your ears, but you didn’t bother to see what had gotten them so giggly. It was probably Jihoon, the new boy in class, who effortlessly managed to twirl every girl around his finger with just a look. He wasn’t your type — you preferred them tall, lanky, and clumsy. Jihoon was on the shorter side and had muscles that seemed unnatural for a sixteen-year-old. Plus, you weren’t into soccer boys. No, your style was more martial arts.

A hand, twice the size of yours, appeared out of nowhere and placed a clementine — your favorite fruit — on your desk, just inches from your face. Your eyes widened, staring at the bright fruit in disbelief. Groggily, you pushed away from the comfortable spot against the desk, only to quickly notice the figure looming over you.

Song Mingi.

“You skipped lunch,” he stated nonchalantly, offering an explanation for the sudden appearance of the fruit.

The muffled squeals of your friends, combined with Mingi’s unexpected act of chivalry, sent heat rushing to your cheeks, leaving you flustered and unsure of how to react. Gift-giving and small acts of service weren’t foreign between you and Mingi. He always seemed to know your cravings, bringing you peeled fruit and sugary snacks without you ever having to ask. In return, you tended to his cuts, massaged the tension from his neck and shoulders after heavy training, and always seemed to find ways to care for him without words. But that was done in private, never in public. Especially not in front of your friends who were having a field day with his new revelation.

“Ah,” Mingi breathed out, picking up the orange once more. 

Silently, he peeled off the thin skin, revealing the vibrant fruit hidden beneath. But he wasn’t done yet. With a casual movement, he stuffed the citrus-scented rind into the pocket of his school uniform before carefully removing the white pith wedged between the clementine’s segments. You didn’t like the white parts. His towering form caught the attention of the rest of the class and by now everyone intently watched the exchange. 

The clementine looked bare now. He held out the fruit again, waiting for you to extend your hand, careful not to let it touch the surface of your desk. A yellowish stain colored his nails, a discoloration that wouldn't fade with just one wash, and the acidic smell lingered, even stronger now. It was the main reason you didn’t like peeling them in the first place.

Mingi, having heard your confession a few weeks ago, made it his mission to always give you peeled oranges. It warmed your chest to know he was keeping that promise.

Apparently, the universe wasn’t satisfied with your first and second encounters because the third one happened just a little less than a week later. You were meeting up with Hongjoong and Seonghwa at a nearby cafe to catch up on the hecticness of your lives — also known as gossip about your workplaces and bonding over the latest episode of When Life Gives You Tangerines. The name of the drama threw you down a steep hill of memories, but you stood up, dusted off your knees and trekked back up. You didn’t want to associate him with the family of fruit anymore.

The clock had just passed five-thirty AM and you were supposed to be there ten minutes ago. It didn’t help that you hit every red light possible. At least the weather was nice. Not a single cloud occupied the baby-blue sky and the spring breeze scattered butterfly kisses along your body. It could’ve been worse. You thought of gloomy clouds and cold rain, and immediately shuddered. Yeah, it definitely could’ve been worse. 

The breath caught in your throat as a bus sped by, just a little over the limit. You exhaled in relief as it passed, but that relief was short-lived when you locked eyes with none other than Mingi on the other end of the sidewalk. It felt as if the universe were laughing in your face, throwing everything you didn’t want right at you. You’d take gloomy clouds and rainy weather over seeing Mingi again. The worst part was that it was a lie because even in the stormiest times, he managed to light up your surroundings, and the erratically beating heart in your chest served as your witness. 

A black hoodie swallowed his towering frame and a pair of chunky headphones covered his head. You couldn’t see him that well, but you assumed the shining reflection around his collar was from his stacked necklaces. The cuts along his face had healed nicely — in fact, they were completely gone — and you wondered if your last encounter had anything to do with it or if he had just gotten better at dodging flying fists.

You always seemed to end things on a bitter note, yet you ignored the sourness on your taste buds and raised your hand in a small wave. He returned it with a tight-lipped smile and a subtle tug of his headphones, letting them rest around his neck instead. Mingi bit down on his bottom lip, seemingly contemplating something. Coming to terms with his thoughts, he raised a finger, wordlessly telling you to wait and threw a quick glance at the red light as if it would hurry up from a single look. Although you had every right to ignore him, you just couldn’t. You had always been weak when it came to him, never really able to tell him no and it appeared some things just never changed. 

Mingi’s face lit up as the light turned to green. The man was so eager to cross the street — to get to you — that he didn’t bother checking both sides before walking out. Unlike the others, he missed the speeding vehicle heading zooming through multiple red lights and showing no signs of stopping. You felt it before you saw it. The spike in your left wrist, the rush of the arrow sky rocketing from zero to a hundred. Your legs moved on their own before you could form the first letter of his name. One moment you were rooted to the ground, eyes wide and mouth parted, and in the next you harshly collided with Mingi, hoping your spurt of strength was enough to knock him off balance and away from the dangerous metal chunk on wheels. 

The world didn’t stop spinning, but time slowed down as Mingi fell backward. His hand came up to cradle your head, while the other slithered around your waist. Your own arms were pressed against his chest from the push you gave him. The landing was harsh, but Mingi took most of it as his back slammed against the pavement and your face became buried in the crook of his neck and shoulder. The passersby approached you with questions of worry and concern, their faces etched with confusion and anxiety at the entire situation. Everyone was a bit shaken up at the tragedy that could’ve been. Your body refused to cooperate and the only thing you could do was tangle your fingers into the material of his hoodie, clinging to it for dear life, trying to distinguish reality from imagination. How cruel — he had just returned to your life, only to almost be taken out of it again, permanently.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, his fingers massaging your scalp as the other hand scrunched up the back of your shirt.

A stutter of words slipped out, none of which Mingi could make sense of. He sat up, trying to get a better look at you, but you refused to part from the comfort of his chest. You didn’t need to see it to know your soulometer had calmed down — you felt it in every fiber of your being. Your soulmate was safe, and you were too, now that you were in the arms of a living, breathing Mingi.

“Please, sweets, I need to know if you’re alright.”

Desperation dripped from his voice like sticky honey falling from a dipper and it struck sharply in your core, bringing you back to the present.

“Okay,” you mumbled against his clothes, just loud enough for it to reach his ears and Mingi exhaled in relief. He pressed a kiss on your hairline and your heart fluttered at the domestic gesture. 

A couple of strangers offered to call an ambulance, but Mingi waved them off, saying it wasn’t necessary and that no one was harmed — just a bit shaken up. He thanked them nonetheless and it did the trick as the crowd dissolved, the people returning to their everyday life, but with a story to slap down on the dinner table.

Mingi placed a palm beneath your left thigh as the other went around your waist to keep you sturdy as he got up from the pavement. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

It didn’t matter how much you wanted to tell him to let you down, that you could walk on your own and didn’t need a chaperone — the words wouldn’t roll off your paralyzed tongue. Feeling the stares of strangers burn into you, you hid your face in the crook of his neck and didn’t pull away until you were safely in your apartment. The entire journey home, you tried to wrap your head around the event: the near-death experience, your body taking over while your mind went slack, the sudden spike in your soulometer. You didn’t dare think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t reached Mingi in time — if you were just a second too late, if you hadn’t noticed the car. A shiver ran down your spine, and you pressed your lips together to distract yourself from the tears threatening to soak Mingi’s hoodie.

You needed a distraction from the what-ifs, and you needed one pronto. Trying to focus on something other than Mingi being flattened by that stupid car, you racked your brain for something, anything else, when it suddenly hit you. In all the seven years you had your soulometer, it had never even grazed, let alone pushed hard against the other end of the scale. 

Back inside your apartment, you plopped down on the sofa and dropped your head into your hands. A throbbing ache pulsed through every part of your head, and the constant buzzing of your phone wasn’t helping. You had an inkling of who it could’ve been, and as you fished it out of your bag, the hundreds of messages and missed calls from both Seonghwa and Hongjoong confirmed your suspicion. You sent them a reassuring text, apologizing for bailing on them and blaming it on your headache. Mingi was leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest, and his feet crossed at the ankles. His eyes never left your hunched form. He was waiting — for a call, a sign, something that would tell him when to reach your side and offer his help.

In another life, you’d be flustered — happy, ecstatic that he was there, worried for your well-being, wanting to make you feel better. But the nagging thought of the situation — too perfect to be a coincidence — wouldn’t let you go. What were the odds of your soulmate and Mingi both being exposed to danger at the same time? How was it that Mingi’s body was void of bruises just as your soulometer stopped acting up? 

Licking your lips, you inhaled shakily and found Mingi’s gaze. The pull to be wrapped in his arms was strong, almost unbearable and you wondered if he felt it too. The need to run your fingers through his hair, to rest your forehead at the junction of his neck and shoulder while he soothingly rubbed circles in your back. The feelings were more intense than back in high school, now full of want and need that you couldn’t satisfy by being in his mere presence. However, you were willing to put it aside in exchange for your question marks to disappear and there was only one person who could give it to you.

Your voice was raspy and weak, breaking mid-sentence as the words struggled to escape. With every ounce of vulnerability, you asked him, “Are we soulmates?”

Mingi didn’t move for a moment. He looked to the side, his jaw clenching as he uncrossed his arms and gripped the edge of the counter. It was inevitable, really. The question was bound to come up sooner or later, and he wasn’t a fool. Mingi didn’t live in a bubble separate from his worries. They were woven into his everyday life, especially since you’d crossed paths again after all these years, with you at the center of them. The anxiety hovered around you like planets orbiting the sun — always there, needing you to survive, but never able to get too close. Mingi never stopped thinking about you. Since your high school graduation, he’d found himself more often than not lying awake in the dead of night, thoughts circling back to you — wondering how you were, what you were doing, if you were happy. You had to be. Mingi only ever brought you pain and hurt, something he loathed himself for. The lies and secrets were the main reason behind it all, but the icing on the cake was his devotion to boxing, which had long surpassed his love for you. At least, in your eyes, because that was what he had allowed you to see — what he wanted you to think. It would make the end of your relationship easier, giving him a lie to hold onto instead of the truth.

But Mingi was tired of lying. He didn’t plan to re-enter your life to keep the same pattern in motion. He wanted to start a-new and whether he deserved it or not was up for debate, but he was going to try. For you. For himself. For your relationship.

“Yes.”

Then it all just stopped. The beat of your heart filled the silence of the world. The flicker of emotions was instant and irregular — shifting from relief and happiness to disbelief and anger. You couldn’t form a single thought, much less say anything. What could one say in such a moment? Realising your first and only love was more than that and had slipped away. The never ending fear and regret of losing the sole good thing in your life washing out to nothing, leaving you empty. It was good and bad. A war broke out in your head, scrambling to come to an understanding, but the tear between the two sides was so grave it was starting to hurt. The relief of finding your soulmate clashed with the idea that he was right beneath your nose this entire time, purposefully avoiding you for who knows how long.

A sting burned behind your eyes followed by a heavy pressure. Your throat closed up and yet you managed to get your question out.

“How… How long have you known?”

Mingi heaved in a breath. The weight of the situation pressed harshly against his chest as he realized the bear trap he set up years ago was beneath his foot.

“A little after the start of our third year in high school… When you were rushed to the hospital.”

You remembered it like it was yesterday. Someone thought it would be a funny prank to leave an opened peanut-chocolate bar in your locker, completely disregarding the gravity of the situation. That was almost a month after his eighteenth birthday — the day his soulometer was permanently injected into his body. Out of those three years, you dated for one and a half, and the last stretch of your relationship was apparently built on secrets and lies because he knew. 

He knew and didn’t tell you.

You rose from your seat, your expression shifting from disbelief to frustration. Your brows furrowed, and your lips were pressed tightly together in fury. Mingi had never seen you so angry — not even when some older kids were making fun of Hongjoong for his height or liking boys.

“Why? Why wouldn’t you tell me about it? Mingi, we broke up and you didn’t think to tell me we were, are soulmates?!”

Your voice jumped from a whisper to full-out yelling, loud enough for your neighbors above and below to indulge in the dramatics, and Mingi flinched at the sudden rise in volume. A fire spread from his core to the rest of his body, growing hotter and more intense with each passing second. Despite how familiar the sensation was, it wasn’t his. You were angry beyond salvaging and no amount of water could douse the flames. 

Mingi’s chest tightened as the answer to your long-awaited question tumbled out of him. “Because you deserved a better soulmate!” 

Like that, a weight lifted off his shoulders. There was a very long pause where you just stared at each other, both waiting for the other to speak.

“Excuse me?” It was meek, barely above a whisper as you spoke and a sharp, breaking sound echoed in Mingi’s heart, like porcelain shattering. “You don’t get to decide that.”

Mingi hesitated, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words. You seized the opportunity to step in front of him. Unshed tears lined your waterline, one blink away from spilling over and kissing your burning cheeks. Mingi wasn’t any better. His eyes were glossed over and throat was dry. His fingers turned an alarming shade of white from gripping the counter, the veins in his hands more defined than ever.

“Why?” 

“You weren’t happy with me…” Mingi’s voice cracked, tears welling in his eyes as he struggled to continue. “W–with me boxing… and I… I wasn’t ready to give up on that. I thought you d–deserved some happiness before you realized you were stuck with me f–forever.” His words came out choked, his chest heaving as the tears finally spilled over.

The salty tears extinguished the fire that had been brewing in you. What had felt like flames of hell now shrunk to nothing more than a spark, ready to fade. You reached out, your hands trembling slightly as you cupped his face, gently wiping away the tears that had fallen.

“You thought I wouldn’t choose you? Mingi, I was never asking you to give up on what you love. I just couldn’t stand seeing you put yourself in danger, not knowing if you’d come back to me… alive.” Your heart ached as the soulometer inside you throbbed painfully, a constant reminder of how deeply connected you two were. 

Mingi had grown up in a boxing family. His father was a boxer, and his grandfathers on both sides were boxers too. It was only natural for the only child of the Song family to step into his relatives’ shoes and fall in love with the gruesome sport. However, it wasn’t the officiated matches or light sparring during training that had you worrying for Mingi. A little after Mingi turned eighteen, he realized that his talent could not only bring him medals, but money. A great sum of money, actually. 

As the fortune started to come his way, you began to notice the change in him. He wasn’t just fighting for the thrill or the legacy anymore — it had become a business. The sport he had once loved, the sport that had connected him to his family, was now something more — something dangerous, something that had started to consume him. You watched as he took on bigger opponents, harsher training regimens and increasingly dangerous matches, all in pursuit of a prize that was slowly tearing away at the person you once knew. 

You didn’t mean to put him in a tight spot, to choose between his first serious girlfriend and the illegal business that kept him independent. You also didn’t expect him to choose the latter. The decision stung more than you anticipated, the weight of it sinking in as you realized what it said about his priorities. 

You were both young and foolish back then, believing the world was beneath your feet and that one wrong decision could crumble it all. Had you known you were bonded, tied together for all eternity, you would’ve approached him differently and you certainly never would’ve let him go.

“I didn’t know about the soulmate bond. I didn’t know you knew... and you still let me walk away. You were willing to let me go without telling me the truth? How could you think I’d leave you forever, knowing we were meant to be?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I–I swear, I wanted to tell you. So many times. Every time I’d walk past your posters or hear about you from our mutual friends, I’d be one click away from calling you, but…”

The apology hung in the air like a weight, thick with guilt and regret. His voice trembled, each word choked back by the raw emotion clawing at him. The tears streamed down his face, unchecked. He turned his face slightly, the side of his cheek brushing against your palm, as if trying to hide from the pain, but your touch remained steady. You held him there, gently, as his sorrow poured out.

“Don’t hold back, Mingi. I’m not going anywhere, not now, not tomorrow, not ever… So please, talk to me.”

His chest hitched as he struggled to breathe, the weight of the words, the silence and the years of unsaid things crashing over him. Mingi knew he owed you this. An explanation, a reason for his sudden pull back all those years ago. He heaved in a breath and allowed the truth to spill.

“I just… I couldn’t,” he whispered. “Every time, I’d think about it and then–then I’d back out. I thought it was better this way. I thought maybe you’d be better off without knowing… that I wasn’t good enough, that I’d only mess things up. Jongho said you were ha–happy and I didn’t want to ruh–ruin that. ”

“You could never–”

“But I would!” He didn’t mean to shout, but the frustration and sadness, locked up for so long, didn’t hesitate to seize the first opening it saw. “I was still fighting… I never stopped. It only got worse after… after we broke up. The money was good, but the loneliness,” his voice wavered, “the loneliness was unbearable. The only time I ever felt anything was when I saw your face... or when I got beaten to hell.”

Your eyes darted around his face. Jumping from his eyes and lips to his nose and cheeks as if seeking a pressure point that would make all of his suffering evaporate into thin air. Mingi avoided your gaze and you massaged the apple of his cheek to catch his attention again. You never intended for the downfall of your relationship to put its claws in his back and leave a wound so grave it couldn’t heal on its own. In fact, you were so caught up in your own emotions that you didn’t think to take a moment and wonder how it would affect him. The guilt festered in your bones like a leech refusing to let go. 

“I never realized how much you were carrying… I thought I was the one who was struggling, but maybe we both were. I’m sorry, Mings.”

“No.” 

He shook his head in disagreement and your hand fell from his face. The loss of warmth was close to painful and Mingi, not wanting to be apart from you any more than necessary, grabbed your hand and guided it down to his chest, placing your palm above his beating heart — the organ that pulsed in rhythm to your own. Your fingers twitch to grab his shirt, to claw out his heart and keep it in the safety of your hands. To shield it from hurt and pain and agony. You never wanted him to feel such anguish again and you certainly didn’t want to be the reason behind it either. It tore you from within and the emotion wasn’t even yours to begin with. 

“It’s not your fault. It was never your fault.”

“Mingi–”

“Stop it. You know if I’d just listened to you, if I’d stopped getting involved in stupid shit, none of this would’ve happened. There’s no one to blame but me.” 

Tears still rolled down his cheeks and clung onto his lashes, though his eyes were sharp and firm as if daring you to challenge his words. If there was one thing you’d learned during the few years you dated Mingi, it was that once his mind was made up, nothing could change it. 

“We are both at fault, love.” 

The pinched expression on his face crumbled at the familiar call of endearment. His mouth parted slightly, and a constellation twinkled in his eyes — a sight you had missed incredibly. A twinge of hope flickered to life — hope that you could once be again, despite his careless acts of selflessness. His focus shifted between your eyes and with shaking hands he gently cradled your face, his touch not lighter than a ticklish flutter of a butterfly’s wings. Your own hands found purchase on his waist, fingers looping through the pouch of his hoodie as you instinctively leaned into the gentle pressure of his caress.

Mingi wetted his lips and brows scrunched together in a pleading demeanor. Something was plaguing his mind again and you could feel the train of thought reach out and graze your own, as if wanting you to get a glimpse. It didn’t hurt, but it wasn’t pleasant either. It felt full, crowded.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Mings?”

“…You.” He took another breath, steadying himself, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I… May I… I want to kiss you.”

Perhaps you should’ve said no. Perhaps you should’ve ignored him sitting on the steps of your apartment. Perhaps you shouldn’t have let him back into your life at all. But the thought of telling him no — robbing yourself of the feel of Mingi’s lips against yours — burned like hot acid in your stomach. So you did the one thing you were best at when it came to him, you gave in to your heart's desire.

“Then kiss me.”

Mingi didn’t need to hear you say it twice before he pulled your face up to his, lips smashing together as a flood of emotions erupted with the kiss — the kind of feeling only a romantic gesture like this could bring. You rose onto your toes, your hands gripping his wrists as if to anchor yourself in the moment. A low rumble vibrated from the back of his throat and you pushed harder against him. The kiss was intoxicating, yet liberating at the same time. You swiped your tongue along his bottom lip and he wasted no time parting them for you. The heat between you both deepened and each moment felt like it stretched on forever, the world around you fading into the background. His fingers grazing the side of your face, pulled you impossibly closer, as if there was no space left for anything but this shared intimacy. 

The pounding of your heart filled your ears, a frantic rhythm that matched the urgency of his touch. You were caught in the gravity of the moment, caught between the need for air and the undeniable pull to stay, to keep kissing him like nothing else mattered and nothing mattered. Just you and him. 

You felt one of his hands slither down your spine, a trail of firecrackers following the wake of his fingertips and sending shivers down your body. You couldn’t pull away — not yet. Not when everything inside you was screaming for more. Mingi pushed you closer to him, chests touching and hips meeting in a delicious press, that radiated between you both, causing every nerve in your body to hum with anticipation. 

It was the need for oxygen that eventually broke you apart before the heated situation could be taken to the bedroom, with you pushed against the soft sheets and your legs tangling together. Your chests rose and fell in synchrony, trying to steady the breath that had been stolen in the heat of the moment. A crackle of electricity snapped around the room, the atmosphere still charged with the energy of your kiss, but both of you knew you couldn’t rush past this — there was so much more to say, the fact that you were soulmates, for one. 

Mingi rested his forehead against yours, his breath was warm against your skin, quick and shallow, mirroring your own racing pulse. His eyes searched yours with a mix of intensity and vulnerability. He whispered your name, as if unsure how to bridge the distance between the desire in his chest and the emotions that were beginning to surface.

“We are soulmates,” you whispered before he could say anything else. It was more of a statement, a wake-up call for you than a fact. Your gaze dropped to the strings of his hoodie, the intensity of his stare made your knees feel weak.

Mingi didn’t reply. He rubbed gentle circles over your blouse on your lower back, a relaxing motion. You didn’t need to hear him say the two worded apology, you felt it in his soft touches.

“It was you… every time my meter went up… it was you fighting.” 

He nodded, a solemn smile gracing his swollen lips. “Yes.” 

“...But it hasn’t… gone up since–”

“Since you found me outside your apartment,” he finished for you. “I stopped shortly after that. I– uh, I realized that I wanted you. Or, well, I always knew, but that… that confirmed it. Mmm, I knew, though, that if I wanted us to be together, I’d have to change– stop! I’d have to stop doing the thing that made me lose you in the first place.”

“So… what does that mean for us?”

“It means… that if you want me to, I’ll peel your oranges for the rest of our lives.”

You wiped a stray tear from his cheek. “Even the white bits?”

The corner of his lips curled up in a grin, giving a glimpse of his crooked front teeth, and his eyes lit up like the night sky in the countryside.

“Especially the white bits.”

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2025. All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[grantmentis]

A Compilation of my Favorite Women's Hockey Resources

I've posted these scattered around and figured it be fun to make a masterpost! im almost certainly missing some, so please feel free to add

A lot of these websites have tip jars, subscriptions, and more, and if you use them a lot, I highly recommend sending some money their way

Catch all:

Elite prospects <- Track many women's leagues and their stats, including international, historical, collegiate. you can also go to eliteprospects.com/womens to see transactions occuring between women's league. they also have an app now!

Giants in the crease <- Tracks goaltender statistics including quality starts and goals saved above average for PWHL, SDHL, and has historical CWHL and PHF stats.

PWHL:

Kyle Cushman's master spreadsheet <- includes depth charts, a game score model, breaks down stats by special teams, translates a lot of basic stats to over 60 stats to adjust for ice time, tracks attendance and stats for each team, and more.

Capbuddy <- PWHL contract information including rosters, who’s on reserve, injuries, and more in a super clean format

hockey-statistics.com/pwhl/ <- PWHL statistics including raw data you can download for game data, play by play, players, teams, and schedule, then some visualization. Includes an expected goal model, individual shot charts for skaters and goalies, and more

pwhl-insights <- similar to above, statistics for individual games, teams, and players. Includes game pace, a gamescore model, fenwick/corsi/high danger chances/scoring chances on a team level, individual shot charts, and takes a lot of the stuff from the pwhl game day app and makes it cleaner and easier to pull from

PWHL play by play scraper in python <- if you want to make some insights of your own, good github link. Creator also has a good article on an expected goal model here

The Ice Garden PWHL signing tracker <- Lets you know who extended with their team, who signed with a different pwhl team, and what kind of signing it was, and how many years

Mike Murphy, John Bouchard, and Gilles Dignard's 2024 PWHL stat spreadsheet <- Season 1 PWHL stats including scoring events, shot attempts, power play breakout data and more

Other Leagues:

I am probably missing some due to language barrier, so once again, if there's any you'd like to add go for it!

Swedish hockey stats website <- Includes on ice goals for v goals against, shot efficency, face off percentage, attendance, etc for regular season, playoffs, and relegation/promotion play

Auroraliiga stats and rosters from the leijonat website <- includes standings, rosters, game information, and player statistics (including time on ice) for Auroraliiga regular season and playoffs. Option to toggle the language to English at the bottom of the page and even has the statistics downloadable!

Postfinance Women's League official stat page <- not gonna lie they're kind of giving us nothing here but you do get a few crumbs

EWHL statistics <- Basic EWHL statistics including face off percentage, scoring efficency, special team stats and spectators

DFEL statistics <- Official German league stats which includes shots on goal, power play/penalty kill information, suspension and penalty news, and more

Collegiate:

NCAA statistics website <- Can toggle between D1 and D3, please note a lot of colleges and conferences also have their own stat pages that are sometimes cleaner and more in depth so worth googling. Usually on individual college website you can find things like total shots and face offs

USCHO <- Standings, Stats, polls, includes D1 and D3. Stats are easily searchable, which is nice if you, say, just want to see all the seniors and can search "sr,"

Clean Sheet Hockey's commitment and transfer list <- D1 hockey, there's a few different transfer and commitment lists on the internet but i LOVE clean sheet's for how, well, clean and organized it is and that they include context for different players

USports statistics website <- Includes shots on goal, has the ability to save as csv or copy which I love

IIHF:

IIHF tourament page <- you can navigate to different tournaments over different years and levels (click the three dots to get to U18 worlds, on the right hand side you can navigate different years) and will guide you to the website for each one, most of which include a statistical page. A lot of the top division tournaments track shot locations and time on ice if you select a specific game, scroll down to the bottom of the left side bar, and look for "official game sheets"

IIHF Asia and Oceania tournaments <- Same idea as above, but this specific shows events like the Women's Asia Cup and Women's Asia Championship

Historical:

Page of resources from WHKYHAC <- a lot of these are google drive or github links to things ranging from shot location data through olympics to transition data from the PWHPA. Also has historical CWHL statistics. Check out their youtube to see the projects people did!

theirhockeycounts.com <- historical PHF and CWHL statistics, with some college and international statistics too. A little more in depth than what is on elite prospects, including tracking primary assists

Collegehockeystats.net <- D1 women's hockey stats, rosters, schedules from 1999 to 2021

CWHL tracker <- nice and clean website with old CWHL statistic

Ice Garden's 2018 women's hockey statistics primer <- Primer itself still a good intro, and at the bottom are some websites hosting old statistics or projects from PHF / CWHL days. some links are dead (ie the old CWHL website) but can probably be found on a internet archive search

[bi-scared]

First time ~ Bay Donnie Headcanons

Here are my headcanons for Bay Donnie's first time with reader.

NSFW ~ F!Reader

(Note: I'm french. My english is limited and I use Deepl.)

From the moment you and Donnie became a couple, he pulled out and updated his computer file containing all the information he'd collected on “how to pleasure a woman”.

Then he runs tests. To find out exactly what the risks are if you have sex with each other. The risk of pregnancy, disease and physical compatibility.

Donnie tries to do this in a discreet way, without telling you. Because not only does it embarrass him, but he feels that all these technical details could ruin the magic of the moment. He wants it to be perfect, of course. For you and for him.

So, when he feels the moment is near, he's ready. At least, he thinks he is. But the reality is quite different, because this kind of thing can't be programmed like computer software.

So, when the time comes, he has doubts. He's afraid. Afraid of hurting you, afraid of not being able to give you pleasure. Afraid of doing it wrong, of not understanding what's going on in your head, of neglecting yourself, of not going all the way, of...

If you already have experience in the field, now's the time to take the reins. Because it's his first time and he's bound to need some guidance. Talk to him, show him, but also let him explore, test his theoretical knowledge. Donnie will listen to you and apply what you tell him to the letter at first.

Then he'll test things out. Things he's read or seen, but also things that come to him by instinct. With shyness and clumsiness, but also perseverance. And while he's putting his knowledge into practice, he's studying everything. Your gaze, your facial expressions, the movement of your body under his fingers, the sounds that come out of your mouth... He observes everything, analyzes everything and deciphers everything. He wants to know what you like and what you don't like. Because Donnie has two major objectives: not to hurt you, but above all to make you feel good.

He's got lots of questions, and he'll be asking them later. His brain is currently too busy remembering what he's learned and not losing control of himself. Because having you under his fingertips, freely running through you, is beyond anything he could have imagined, and he's on the verge of a short circuit.

No, the first time, his questions will be limited to “Are you okay?”, “Can I go on?”, “Do you want me to stop?”. And as he loses control, Donnie asks your permission to enter you, panting and stammering. And he won't do anything without your permission.

But before he does, he makes sure you're ready for him, because he's not human in size or shape. Donnie takes his time, first making sure you can handle a finger. Then eventually a second. He makes sure you cum at least once. And, just in case that didn't work, he's provided lubricant and even a few accessories to satisfy you without penetration, so you can both have fun in a different way. It'll never be a total failure.

When he decides you're ready (and he'll decide when, even if you're begging) and you've given him the go-ahead, he'll make his move. He has a plan to make things go smoothly and he fights to the bitter end against his urge to just work his way into you for his own pleasure. He'll only get in as part of the game with insane slowness, analyzing your reactions and resistance. Start gentle back-and-forth strokes with just the tip until no sign of discomfort appears on your facial features. Then he'll move in a little more and start again.

Throughout this process, Donnie lets out the most animalistic moans and grunts you've ever heard. He tries to contain them, but he's already having trouble containing his movements inside you. Sometimes he pauses, shaking intensely, and you come to understand that he's just trying not to cum too soon.

When he's deep enough inside you and feels he can't go any further, he makes sure to cover the part of him that won't enter you with his hand. Just in case he loses a little too much control and wants to go deeper. No, his hand must not move.

Donnie then starts moving back and forth more frankly and, to his (and your) frustration, he doesn't last much longer. As a result, he has an angry orgasm, swearing at himself. So much work and patience for a few seconds.... He feels guilty.

Might as well laugh it off and give him a second chance. He'll last longer this time. And why not take the lead for round two ;)

If this is also your first time, things aren't much different at first. Except that Donnie takes a little more on himself, fighting his embarrassment and looking to do you good without expecting you to guide him. He'll be doubly attentive and caring, though.

For this first time, he's decided he's far too... imposing, and he doesn't want to inflict that on you. If it's all right with you, he'd like to settle for a little...

For your first time, he's decided he's far too... impressive, and he doesn't want to put you through that. If you agree, he'd like to stick to his fingers for the first few times. He doesn't like the idea of taking your virginity that way, but he'd rather do that than risk hurting you.

After a few sessions of fingers fucking, he ends up wanting more, but he doesn't ask. He waits for you to tell him when you're ready. And when you are, he makes sure he does it right and as painlessly as possible. It may take you a few tries before he can finally enter you, but it's worth the wait ;)

[only-lonely-star]

hi there, i hope you’re having a good day! i love your work and you seem like the sweetest! i was wondering if i could request something? all good if not, but i was wondering if you would do headcannons with the greasers (the main 7, seperate tho if that makes sense 🫨) with reader that has a stutter/speech issues (like sometimes doesn’t pronounce stuff correctly, might get stuck on words/stutter and repeat words etc) (definitely not self projecting here)…it could either be platonic or romantic, i don’t mind!! thank you and have a good day 💌💌💌

Curtis Gang x speech difficulty!reader

Curtis gang x gn!reader

Warnings: I don’t think there are any :)

Author’s Note: Hi!! This was a very fun post to make. I hope you enjoy, my lovesss 🫶🏼

✦ . 　⁺ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ⁠♡ ✦ . 　⁺ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Ponyboy

Pony would take his time with you. Without a doubt. I can see him raising his eyebrows a bit and staring right at you until you’re able to finish what you wanted to say.

I don’t think he’d ever tease you. Playfully or not, I just don’t see him as the type. He’s too emotionally intelligent to the point he assumes teasing in any way could come off as hurtful.

Honestly, he might avoid bringing it up at all costs to prevent unwanted tension.

If you’re struggling to finish a word, he’d lock in and try to figure out what that word is before you can. He’d rather help you find the word you’re looking for rather than allowing you to struggle and feet a bit embarrassed afterwards. Also, it’s probably a little fun on his part because he gets to flex his vocabulary . He’ll purposefully say a big word nobody even KNOWS besides himself, and then pull a 🤔 face when you shake your head. “Idiosyncratic-?! No…? Oh, um… IDIOM?!”

I don’t see him ever getting really frustrated with you. Even if you’re arguing or ‘having a disagreement’, he’d be patient and let you finish. He just knows better.

Remember when Ponyboy snapped at Johnny and said, “An’ you can shut your trap, Johnny Cade, ‘cause we all know you ain’t wanted at home, either.” I think he’d have the same reaction if anyone tried to belittle you for your speech impediment. It doesn’t matter if that person was a total stranger or someone he cared for; he’d snap on them for it.

Johnny

He would be the most patient of all. I think he’s naturally be more quiet than most, so there’s no rush when you’re with him.

If you’re trying to tell a joke and end up stuttering a bunch, he’d probably giggle just a bit. Not in a mean way, of course.

He would probably never even address your speech impediment. It literally has no affect on your conversations since you carry majority of them.

Johnny actually likes talking with you the most. You’re like a breath of fresh air compared to the people that ramble and ramble. You take the time to say what’s important instead of talking his poor ears off.

He remembers certain ‘struggle words’ that are harder for you to say than other words. He’d intentionally use a substitute word to make it easier for you if possible.

Dallas

He’s a little hot-headed. Most of the time he’s chill about it, your speech impediment doesn’t really bother him. But if he’s asking you a pressing question or arguing with you, he’d get frustrated very fast.

If you’re in a situation where you keep repeating the same word again and again, I think he might say it and nod his head, urging you to continue. Is it a bit rude? Yes, but this is Dally we’re talking about. He’s a jerk either way.

When he’s not being a jerk (for once), Dally would keep quiet until you finished. He’d blink a lot as if it would help him hear you better.

I can picture him in that one scene from the movie where he’s like “What? 🧏” when Johnny says he’s going to turn himself in. He’d do that leaning in thing with his finger to his ear if you’re really struggling with a word. When you finally get it out, he’d pull away and think for a moment before replying.

If ANYONE teased you about the way you speak, he’d be after them in no time. I don’t think he would, but in his mind, he’s the only one with ‘rights to tease you’. Again, I don’t think he’d actually joke about your speech like that, but if he were, it would be in a playful way only. Anyone else… helllll to the no.

This is more of a romantic one, but I can totally see him trying to give you a little reassuring touch if you’re trying to speak to someone else and you’re struggling. Any little nudge or pat on your shoulder to let you know he’s there and won’t let anyone interrupt you. He’ll be on their ass if they try.

Sodapop

He’s really understanding. I can see him whispering a little “You’re fine, no rush,” if you’re stammering a lot.

Similar to Pony, he might try to help you find the word you’re struggling to say. Does he usually find it before you do? No. But that’s okay by you, at least he’s trying.

He doesn’t find you to be a burden at all. In fact, he thinks the way you speak is sort of cute/unique. It’s like a special way to remember you by. If he ever catches himself stuttering, he smiles and thinks of you.

Again with the reassuring touch, I think Soda would 100% do something similar. He’d nod along and smile softly as a way of showing he’s present and paying attention.

If you’re ever apologizing for it and feeling like a burden he’ll immediately snap you out of it. “No, no, no, YOU don’t apologize, you ain’t did nothing wrong.”

He disregards it mid-conversation. (As he should.) Especially if there’s a third party listening, he wouldn’t mention your impediment in case they have something smart to say about it. Ignoring = bringing no attention to possible teasing.

Steve

He teases you in the most playful way ever. You know it too, but it grates on your nerves at times. ESPECIALLY if you’re trying to have a serious conversation and he’s over here laughing at you. “St-st-,” “Steve-? Yes, right here. Present. In the flesh, 🤓”

If anyone else tries to tease you he’ll call them out for being rude. To him, they all have evil intent behind it.

If he sees you’re genuinely getting frustrated with yourself he’ll downplay your impediment as a way of comforting you. (That sounds so mean, but I have no idea how to word it better 😭) “So? Everyone stutters, it don’t matter.”

By reminding you that everyone has their moments, it’s like his way to show you that you’re not different or annoying for something everyone has done before.

If you mix two words together trying to spit everything out so fast, he’ll make that word a new one. It’s an inside joke, if you will. No one else understands the context behind the ‘new slang’.

The teasing doesn’t happen around anyone else. He doesn’t want to give the impression that others are allowed to do so.

Darrel

He’s super patient with you, and never dismisses you. No matter how busy he is, or how much of a time crunch he’s on, he’s never going to shut your conversation down.

Nicknames you “Speedy” for trying to say everything so quickly. Since you’re trying to get it out ASAP, you sometimes slur your words altogether. He’ll simply smile, stick his hand out and say, “Slow down, Speedy. The words ain’t going anywhere. I’ve got time.” He MAKES time for you, even if he’s got only seconds to spare☹️🫶🏼

He’s too mature for the teasing. “He’s still young! He’s only 20!!” I know, but he’s more mature than the other boys. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t find it funny. If anyone tries to point out your stutter or make a joke about it at your expense, he’d shut that down real fast. Big, scary Darry is someone you don’t want to tick off like that.

He also does the cute ‘lean in’ thing to hear you better.

He’ll close his eyes and nod along, acting 10x more attentive then he would for anyone else. It makes him think he’s doing a good job of making you feel heard.

Darry never tries to finish your thoughts for you. While it isn’t necessarily rude, or bad to try and help, he just doesn’t like it. He’d rather you take your time to express your OWN feelings rather him force you to align with what he thinks you’re on about.

Two-Bit

Actually, I think Two might have a little stutter of his own too. It’s not very frequent, but he’ll get a little disoriented and repeat himself a few times just in case.

I can see him forcing a little stutter to make you feel better about it at times. If you’re specifically struggling to finish a word, he’ll let you finish and reply with one of his own. No hard feelings, he makes sure you know he’s only teasing.

Sometimes he’ll interject and try to finish your thoughts. BUT- he straight up puts words in your mouth. He can’t resist it. “You said you’re buyin’ me a case of beer? Well, hell, why didn’t you say so earlier?”

If he sees you getting visibly tense or nervous he’ll reach a hand out towards your side or your neck to tickle you. It gets rid of the stress and breaks that tension so that you can speak clearer. Lightened mood = easier speech.

When he’s tipsy, his cheeks get all red from smiling so much. Similar to what I said for Soda, Two-Bit loves how you speak. He’s used to it, too; it shocks him every time someone mentions your impediment.

Honestly, I can see him absolutely locking tf in when someone cuts you off. He’ll say something witty, but it’s clear he’s warning them to leave you alone about your speech. This man will defend you with his life.

THANK YOU ALL FOR READING!! 💋💋

-Sophia 🫶🏼

[dandysworld-meh-imagines]

maybe a Yandere Gigi headcanons x reader? 👀

Yandere Gigi With The Reader Headcanons!

Ohhhhh, more yandere stuff? I hope the headcanons I thought amuse you, dear anon! Here you go, thank you for requesting! <3

At this point I'm not even gonna say I'm getting busy or anything else sobs I think it's obvious sksksksk

Ik I take Sundays off but shhhh-

Kinda not proofread gelp sobs

-Anna

-Gigi's obsession with you was kinda obvious and at the same time not really. She's that best friend where you always know you are going to have a fun time with. When you appeared somewhere, it was basically almost a guarantee that Gigi would always be with you. She just adored having you around and following you to places. Whenever she appeared, she also liked giving you your favorite snacks or even showing you what else she managed to pull from her head, find or even something she totally borrowed from.. the others. All she wants to see is you smiling, that means you like her a lot, right??

-She wouldn't exactly be the type to eliminate obstacles, let's say. She is more focused on making sure you are hers. You are her precious treasure, someone she is obsessed with having all to her. Gigi's style is more focused on pushing everyone away from you one way or another just so she can have you all to herself. You are someone truly precious that she doesn't want anyone else to have your attention for too long. She's not the type to really punish you or anything, no, no, how could she face you if she hurt you?

-Her way of getting others to distance themselves from you is by stealing their things, especially things that are super important to said toons. That way, they are more focused on finding it again or are feeling too low to hang out with you. You can try and help, of course, but you won't find anything and she guarantees it totally. I mean, who would find such important items under Gigi's massive collection? Or better yet, she gets rid of them completely in some way, that way, they will never be found again. Not every toon has to worry about this, though, as she only does it to those that hang around you for too long.

-Gigi has impressive lockpicking skills, it's how she manages to get into the rooms of whoever she wants if they piss her off enough. She is very sneaky too, learning everyone's patterns and more so she can do her job properly and with ease too. She makes sure to not do it immediately once she's pissed, she waits and sometimes she even grabs someone else's important items who doesn't hang out with you much so it's not obvious that it happens to those that are only around you. It's a way to keep Rodger or even Vee guessing constantly or even anyone else who gets suspicious enough to look into it. Gigi likes to mess with those specifically, taking their items then placing them back in a specific spot to drive them insane slowly, they think it's Connie!

-She pretends to search for the lost items alongside you and the toon she stole from. It's also a way for Gigi to see just how much panic she caused to the poor toon. If it's a toon that isn't exactly close to you, she might drop the item somewhere randomly around Gardenview but if it's someone who was close to you, like said before, she gets rid of it completely. Gigi enjoys watching their reactions. She does feel a bit bad when you also seem distressed over this but it has to be done. This is the best thing for everyone. She won't get.. TOO angry at the toon enough to cause actual damage and she doesn't get caught, win-win!

-If said toon still hangs out with you even more, Gigi really thinks here. She might cause damage to their room and somehow make it like it was an accident or something. One other thing she can do is sabotage their food and make them feel pretty sick or even hang out with you so often that it just.. feels wrong to hang out with anyone else. Can't you see that they are not feeling well? Hang out with Gigi while they rest! She will keep you company until they feel better, yup! She totally won't sabotage them again shortly after they recover or anything!

-When Gigi hangs out with you, she's overly kind and loves to stay close to you as much as she can. It's funny because if she's a very close friend to you, it's seen as normal and something pretty sweet. You just think that this is what best friends do, no? She likes to lean against you as you sit in the same beanbag, watching a movie together. Don't even question just how many snacks she has in her room, they are all for you, always for you. Totally didn't steal all your favorite ones from the kitchen, pffft! Gigi always observes your reactions.

-Gigi likes to also feel you close to her, you are her precious treasure, after all. You get hugs, cuddles, nuzzles, cheek kisses that might seem platonic but only if you knew just how obsessive she is with you, she wants you to feel so well around her that you fall for her. Even if you don't, it's fine, as long as she has you close to her forever and ever, she doesn't care. She can admire you from afar or close, whether you are best friends or lovers, she just wants to be close to you like this and adore you. When she sees you comfortably leaning against her, she feels like she completed her life goal or something like that. The smile she has is big.

-You are the only one she is willing to share anything with, no one else. When I say anything, I do genuinely mean ANYTHING, can be clothes, snacks, stuff from her collection, tapes with so many shows in them, it's like you two are married even with how much she's letting you take with a happy smile on her face. You can't really complain much because a lot of the stuff she keeps are so nice to wear or to watch and this and that. Honestly Gigi is very happy to share only with you, her beloved, as long as you are happy and you focus only on her, that's all she cares about.

-She's pretty good at pretending, really but she does get super happy and affectionate whenever she's with you. She really tries to be careful in her footsteps and for you to never figure out what she truly does behind your back. Gigi wants you to have this good image of her so she's going to try her very best in keeping it good. If she ever gets you to fall for her, she's going to make sure no one else ever lays a finger on you as long as you are by her side. Gigi loves you too much and she can't wait to spoil you so hard that you only have eyes for her only.

Thank you for reading! <3

[rosenclaws]

Replacement || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: Being with Logan is a dream but when the girl who is basically his daughter seems to hate you, it makes things pretty difficult.

warnings: angst, arguments, fluff, comfort, jubilee is kinda mean, a little suggestive at the end.

a/n: okay so idk if i like how this turned out but ive been on a wolverine jubilee kick so fuck it. I live for dad Logan and I just needed more

Logan liked to say he didn't care about anything. He didn't care about the team he would protect with his life or the kids that made him smile. All he cared about was beer and cigars. But everyone could see he was a liar. Deep down the man cared a lot about this little life he had created. Whether he wants to admit it or not the X-Men were very important to him.

Especially Jubilee. She was a young mutant who was quite literally a firecracker. The explosive powers that came from her fingertips were flashy and fun but were not to be taken lightly. Ever since they met they shared a special bond. He had become somewhat of a mentor to her.

For a long time she was the only one who he held that special spot for. Until you came along. Or that's what people would tell you anyways. You thought it was absolutely adorable. To see that soft side of Logan it's what made you fall in love with him, among other things.

You met him while he was away from the mansion. Logan had gone off alone again. The mansion life is nice but sometimes it became too overwhelming. So he hopped on his bike and left. Leaving only a letter to explain where he went. He drove for a while until he had to stop for gas. That's where he met you.

You worked at some 24 hour diner near by and man were you as sweet as the pie you served. You were kind and funny and you made Logan feel like more than just a mutant or an X-Men. He loves them he really does but they know what he is. They don't have any high expectations for the man. But you, you thought he was everything. Handsome, sweet, a little mysterious. He found himself stuck to this town. He got onto his bike but he just couldn't leave.

Back in New York he felt suffocated sometimes but you made it easy to breathe. You built a small life for a while. He helped around and did odd jobs for money while you let him stay with you. He kissed you a week after moving to that town and he knew once his lips touched yours he could never go back.

Eventually he got a message from Charles. They needed him. So he asked you to come with him. It was a big ask but fuck, you loved the man and he loved you.

So you packed up everything and followed him to New York. You and Logan were happy, really happy. There's just one problem. Jubilee seems to hate your guts. He had told you about the mansion and the people in it. His friends. You couldn't wait to meet them all.

When you first arrived Jubilee was the first person to greet the two of you. She jumped into Logan's arms, talking animatedly about all that he missed. Then she saw you and she went quiet, asking who you were in a not so friendly tone. Your nerves went haywire as she stared. She wasn't outright mean but it was clear she wasn't happy you're here. Soon the others arrived and they were nice but you couldn't shake that stomach twisting feeling.

At first you thought she was just wary of you because you were new. You understood the kind of life a lot of these kids had before finding peace at the mansion. So you tried to introduce yourself but she blew you off. It hurt a little but you didn't take it personally. She is a teenager after all. But then you started dating Logan and things took a turn for the worse. She was always interrupting or doing something to drive the two of you apart.

Like one night you and Logan were in the kitchen. He had you leaning against the wall, trapped by his very fit body. He leaned in for a kiss and suddenly a bright spark flew right in between you. You jumped apart and saw Jubilee giggling by the door. Stuff like that would happen a lot. Or she would call for Logan's help whenever the two of you got time alone. If you asked he would tell her no but you always told him it was okay.

You didn't want to make Jubilee more upset or come between them. At first you thought these were all just silly pranks or bad timing but as they kept happening it became incredibly obvious she was doing this on purpose. You just wanted her to like you, or at least not hate you. The strained relationship between you and her was starting to effect your relationship and you wish it didn't.

"Hey Jubilee can we talk?" You asked nervously as you saw the girl sitting in the living room.

"I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go to the movies this weekend? There's this cheesy action comedy movie out that I thought you'd like." She looks up at you and just shrugs.

"No thanks."

"Oh that's okay, maybe another time?" You say, slightly disappointed that another attempt at getting to know her failed.

"Yeah maybe never." She mumbles under her breath.

You try not to get frustrated. She's just a kid. She doesn't have to like you. But you want to make things right, apologize even if you don't know what you did wrong.

"Jubilee, I know you don't like me and I just want to know what I can do to fix it." You tell her. You're desperate at this point.

"It's nothing. Just leave me alone." She rolls her eyes and you feel another wave of annoyance hit you.

"Please, I'm really trying. We don't have to be best friends but you're important to Logan and so am I so we just-"

Jubilee stands up, her face twisting into anger as she interrupts you.

"God can't you take a hint? I don't want to know you. You came into our home and you walk around like you own the fucking place!" She shouts.

"I didn't mean to I'm sorry." You try and apologize but she doesn't listen.

"We don't need you here. We're a family and you're just an outsider." Her fingertips start to tingle as her powers start to spark.

"Just do us all a favor and leave!" A blast comes from her fingers aimed right at you.

You shield your face and brace for the pain, but it never comes. You open your eyes to see Logan standing in front of you. He took the full force, his shirt burned through but his skin was already healing.

"You alright?" He asks and you nod wordlessly.

"Jubilee!" He growls. She looks guilty, she didn't mean to do that.

"I..." She starts but her voice fades.

"Go. I'll deal with you later." She looks to you, opening her mouth but doesn't say anything.

She just takes off outside. Running far away without another word. Logan is furious. He's noticed her acting out lately but he just thought it was typical teenage bullshit. But this is more than that.

"I don't know what the hell has gotten into her." He turns back to you. It's clear as day what you have to do. She'll never accept you being here.

"I think I should go."

"If you need space I can meet you in our room later." He reaches out but you step back, shaking your head.

"No I mean I should leave. Leave the mansion." Logan furrows his brows in confusion.

"What? Why?" You almost laugh at that.

"Clearly I'm not wanted here. So it's just better if we go our separate ways alright?" It's breaking your damn heart to say this. You don't want to leave but maybe Jubilee is right. You are an outsider. You aren't like them.

"She hates me Logan. She almost blasted my face off."

"It was an accident, she'd never hurt an innocent person." Logan says and you just sigh. You're not mad he's defending her. He's in an impossible situation.

"I love you Logan but this is your home. This is your family. Jubilee is your family. I just don't think I fit here."

"Don't go, don't run from me." Logan grabs your wrist gently, his eyes pleading for you to stay.

"I can't lose you." He whispers. It almost makes you stay. Almost.

But you think about everything. What you've put up with and the possible future. If you stay Logan and Jubilee will grow apart because of you. That girl is like his daughter. She needs him. She's just a kid. You lean in and kiss his cheek, a sad look on your face as you slip your wrist out of his grip. His hand falls to his side limply. You turn your back and walk towards your room.

"I'm sorry Logan." You whisper but you know he can hear you. It's too much, it's just better this way.

Jubilee really didn't mean to let her powers get out of control like that. She wouldn't ever hurt you like that on purpose. Her outburst...it's complicated. She sits on the grass with her knees against her chest. She watches the wind blow the dandelions back and forth. She knows she's in the wrong but she can't seem to admit it. She's protecting her life, her family. She hears footsteps approach and she braces for the scolding of a lifetime.

It's Logan. She doesn't even have to turn around to know. His shadow covers her from the sun as he gets closer. He walks around until he's right in front of her. She stares at his boots, refusing to look up at him.

"You wanna tell me what that was about?"

"It was an accident." She mumbles softly. Guilt clawing inside of her.

"I know it was, but I heard what you said." Logan knows there's something eating at her, he just doesn't know what. Or how to fix it. But enough is enough. He sits down in front of her, crossing his legs he leans back.

"I can sit out here all day Jubs, you need to talk to me." Logan tilts his head as Jubilee starts to pick at the grass. Fuck.

"I'd never hurt them, I was just so angry and I..."

"Angry bout what?" Logan pushes. He can see the gears turning in her head. He knows the most how difficult it can be to open up, to dig deep into the anger. It's easy to be angry but it's harder to understand why.

For the first time Jubilee looks up at Logan, expecting an angry pissed off look he reserves for when he's really mad. But instead it's soft. It's concern and worry. Tears well up in her eyes as she finally has to face the truth. It's always been unspoken between them. Just how much they mean to each other.

Logan wasn't a sappy emotional man and Jubilee was an outgoing teenager who liked to pretend her past didn't hurt as much as it did.

"I was scared." She whispers, tucking her legs closer to her body.

"Scared of what?" Logan asks.

"Scared that you were going to be taken away from me." She admits. Logan was the father figure she never had. She was special to him. He was softer with her, kinder. She could ask for almost anything and he'd cave even if he complained the whole time. She trusted him with her life. So seeing someone else seemingly fill that role hurt. She was jealous and scared and upset. So she lashed out, believing that if she could drive you away then everything would go back to normal.

"You left me Logan." She remembers how hurt she was when he left. Not even a goodbye just some lousy note.

She waited for him to come back, acting like she wasn't affected by his disappearance but she was. So when he finally did come home she was so happy. But then she saw you and realized he wasn't alone.

"The X-men are my family but...you mean a lot to me Logan and when you came back you brought someone new and I was afraid that meant you were going to forget about me." She buries her face into her knees.

It was so childish but she couldn't help it. She missed Logan and now someone new came along and stole him away. Were you the reason he was gone for so long? The resentment just built and built.

"Hey, look at me." Logan says softly. He gently grabs her face and tilts her head up.

Jubilee means more to him than she'll ever know. The protective nature he feels over her can really only be described as paternal. He won't admit it but she is like his daughter. Man look at him, he never thought he'd have this life. That he'd have a family. But he does and you know, it's pretty damn great.

"I could never replace you kid, ever." He wipes away a tear and sits next to her. He wraps an arm around her and she leans against his shoulder.

"You mean a lot to me too. Even if you're annoying and loud and make me watch stupid internet videos." She giggles and Logan smiles.

"Were you happy? When you went away." She asks and Logan nods.

"Yeah I was, but that doesn't mean I didn't miss you too kid." A wave of guilt crashes over Jubilee as she thinks about all the things she'd done to lash out. You were nice, really nice and she couldn't even give you a chance. She was so wrapped up in her own feelings she didn't even care how happy you made Logan.

"I feel so stupid, god I really messed up didn't I." Jubilee groans as she looks at Logan.

"Yeah, you did kid. But it's nothing an apology and effort can't fix." Logan says, though he's not completely convinced. Jubilee studies his face for a moment before getting up and running back to the mansion without another word.

"Hey! Where are you going?!" Logan calls after her but she ignores him. She has to make this right.

You're almost all packed when the door bursts open.

"Logan please don't make this harder than it has to be," You beg as you turn around, expecting the man you love to be standing there. To your surprise it's Jubilee. She's slightly out of breath as she leans against the door.

"Man I need to get back in the danger room." She huffs. She spots your clothes folded in a suitcase and starts to panic.

"Are you leaving?"

"Don't worry, I'll be out of your life soon." You tell her.

"No!" She blurts out which takes you by surprise.

"I'm sorry. I'm really really sorry. I was afraid and jealous and I took it out on you and I'm sorry." She apologizes. Afraid that she went too far, that she was going to drive away someone who made Logan happy.

"I felt replaced and I got bitter and I just wanted Logan back but I really fucked up."

"Thank you, for the apology Jubilee," You say gently.

"I really appreciate it, but maybe it's for the best that I leave." You're not sure what to do now.

"I'd never try to replace you. Logan needs you more than he needs me." You say and she frowns.

"That's not true. I lashed out because I was afraid I'd lose him and I didn't mean anything I said. You make him so happy. You're so kind to all of us. You don't judge us. Please don't punish him for my mistakes." This was a big moment for Jubilee.

To take this kind of responsibility and be so vulnerable to someone she doesn't really know. But it's her way to trying to show you she means it.

"I..." You hesitate.

"Let me make this right. We can go to that movie if it's still on the table?" She pleads and man her puppy dog eyes really are magic. No wonder Logan can never say no.

"Okay. I'll stay."

"Thank you!" She reaches out to hug you but stops, realizing you might not be her biggest fan right now. But you open your arms and welcome her into a hug.

"I want you to know that I could never replace you. Logan will always have a special place in his heart for you that no one can ever touch." You tell her. She hugs you a little tighter. You look up and see Logan leaning against the door.

"No fireworks this time?" Logan says, his voice gentle.

"Not this time." You reply.

Jubilee pulls away and walks over to Logan. Hugging him too. He grunts and pretends to be annoyed but he wraps his arms around her tight.

"Don't think you aren't in trouble for earlier by the way." He whispers in her ear and she sheepishly laughs.

"Go down to the lab. I'm sure Hank has plenty of work for you to do allll week." She groans and stomps off to the lab, mumbling under her breath.

"I heard that!" Logan yells and she turns to stick her tongue out at him.

"Teenagers." He says with a roll of his eyes.

"You are such a dad." You say with a laugh. He smiles just hearing that sound.

"You still leaving?" He asks and you shake your head.

"No. I'm not."

"Good." Logan grabs your waist and pulls you into a heated kiss. You tug at his shirt and groan when he nips at your bottom lip.

"Looks like we finally have some real alone time." He hums as he kicks the door closed.

"Yeah we do, I think you owe me a date night." Logan just grins.

"I'll buy you dinner but how about we skip to the good part right now."

[noellevanious]

now that i'm awake and had times to compartmentalize i feel like i've figured it out - it's, presumably (and annoyingly, at least for me), probably just rooted back into being invested in the kind of discussions Twitter in particular encouraged.

WAY TOO LONG of a diatribe of messy thoughts below -

TL;DR: Pessimism and outrage culture cultivated by Twitter. Because of course it is. Not something you may even be conscious of - but it's better to try and shake it, so you can meaningfully communicate. Unless you, like, make your living off of it, I guess. That seems to be the play these days.

I notice this happen with a lot of friends that mainly also aggregate on twitter (they kinda treat it like i treat tumblr - a main hobby, as said as that sounds), and I'm sure if I wasn't dying from taking anti-anxiety meds that ruin my brain and make me feel like a zombie again (like an IDIOT why did i DO THAT), i could probably even make a sort of "parody" comic, but i'll condense what i'm thinking as much as i can -

There's a very distinct style of speech, that Twitter as a platform has cultivated, ever since it became the "Main" social media platform, God, back in like 2015? Where all that matters is the following:

Your thoughts are pithy (because of the character count limit)

They tend to lean towards more combative

You don't have (or need) any room to try and make it feel more like a discussion - it's just your thought, and you can't change it, or you don't want to change it.

Due to QRTs and Replies being the main form of response, and QRTs being displayed before the tweet they're responding to (I still can't even fathom how fucking stupid of an idea that is, and why that's still around), you better be ready to either vehemently (and pointlessly) defend what you said to the bitter end, or just throw up a red herring or strawman to wipe your hands of the affair. Any off-color word can ignite an angry mob that'll do their damndest to push you into the dirt, because they only know combativeness and disgust.

It also helped perpetuate and encourage that kind of apathetic irony that a lot of people were accustomed with when they were younger (I dabbled in it until, God, 6 years ago? and I'm 28), where you don't really share your positive ideas or notions, you just kind of reflexively point out issues or problems.

It's not necessarily that "it's not cool" to like stuff, it's more that you kind of get your "positive" corners sanded off. Hell, it might even be ADHD or other mental health issues - I legit had this problem until I finally got my ADHD meds. You just... don't see things positively. It's more "What interests me even a little? What gives me the smallest bit of

It's very distinct, because generally you'll want to be open and forward about what you love, right? But that doesn't happen when people are raised in this quagmire of a "community". You only point out flaws. Sometimes you let loose a perceived flaw that's actually just... we'll be optimistic and say "a social faux-pas that you picked up on".

Now, a person that isn't a 28-year-old transfem emotionally stunted poor "Communications Major" could easily research and expound upon that into articles or video essays - because it's not something that most people, I feel, are aware that they're doing. Rather, again, it's just the culture that they've kind of had to adapt to, that's been bred, again, because Twitter mainly sells manufactured outrage. You can even see it seep into other social media platforms, like Tumblr, like Tiktok.

It's very disheartening. The best way I can describe how I feel whenever I am confronted with it is, pathetically, this Simpsons meme image.

Being positive is fun. Liking stuff is good. It's ok to criticize and dislike things, but at some point, it gets tiring if you only ever point out the flaws, and treat every little part of life like an Apathy contest.

this is not an indictment or condemnation of the creator or people that like what i'm about to talk about. I am Simply Musing (and alsl trying to collect my thoughts). So humor me.

i like beanytuesdays art (comics? novels? visual rants?) until i get to one where i just cant gauge any point or opinion beyond saying

1. things suck (especially capitalism), and

2. if its an opinion that isnt the most kosher, just going back to the "hold on now. remember. i'm just a big ol fat american pal you know how dumb we are" well

[deoidesign]

It's my right to tell myself I can do just a little animation just for fun just for really quick to do some action and then spend 3 days straight on it

[mournfall-syscourse]

I'm glad you like the response~ we're glad it didn't come across as confrontational or anything. Ahh, mental blocks around some stuff, can definitely understand that. Hopefully it's something you can figure out why it happens, if it's safe to do so. Being tired and delirious is also very fair, we appreciate the clarification regading those parts. And yeah, we'll probably still ask some clarifying questions but if it's something you just can't answer, then let us know~ Apologies in advance for the long paragraphs too, we tend to have very long-form thoughts about stuff that tends to ramble, and we're not great about being able to trim them down'''. Again, responding paragraph by paragraph - though we found we had to split some into more sections because tumblr has some limitations regarding that, apparently.

Ah okay, that's interesting. We, kinda view ours the same, at a baseline. It's the same level as autism affecting our identity, or our adhd. We are autistic, we are an adhd person, we are also a CDD system. We would not be the same person/people if we didn't have either of those conditions. Even if we took away the disordered part of our plurality while still remaining plural, we would be very different people to who we are now. Even our trans identity is heavily affected by our plurality. Maybe parts of that are how connected we feel to our individual identities as alters, and feeling very disconnected to the identity of the body. It's hard to say. I think things shifted, with us, when our old host stopped being around. Your explanation makes sense, it's interesting that with similar roots, we still get to slightly different destinations, when it comes to this topic.

I will say, we are not very far along in our recovery journey. A lot of the strategies we do use were either self-taught through looking things up and figuring out how to apply them to ourselves, or things we learnt via friends. Some of these are potentially maladaptive, but they work for us now, even if we might have to change them in the future when we find better alternatives. We've started some amount of therapy, but it's been slow-going as far as working on the issues the disorder throws at us. A lot to untangle. As far as being able to see our plurality in a vacuum now, while it's not something we can see our plurality within as it is now, it feels like something that can become disentangled from the disordered aspects of it, one day. We don't know what that'll look like, but we're hoping we get to see it one day. Certain aspects of the disorder will always be present - our brain's default coping mechanism will still likely be to split or throw up barriers in the face of something that is too much to handle at the time, and we'll have to deal with that each time it comes, even after functional multiplicity. But in some ways, kinda because of the disorder, honestly, we end up being blinded to some aspects of it. We sometimes have to remind ourselves that we are disordered, or that certain experiences are disordered, cause the brain is trying to hide it. It doesn't try to hide us being a system anymore, but it does try to put up curtains on a lot of the negative stuff - which when that stuff rears its head is not a fun time. But those moments of things being hidden… and even the times we choose to kinda put those parts of the experience to the wayside when we're feeling particularly depressed about being dysfunctional, we find we're able to just enjoy being a bunch of friends and family and such in the same brain and body, just vibing, doing our best to live life. In a way, it feels like a taste of seeing it in a vacuum, even if we know it's not gonna be the same as what it actually could be, or how it would feel for a non-CDD system. And yeah, absolutely agree with the feeling that it's hard to imagine how things will look in the future. Non-CDD systems will still have some differences in functionality to CDD systems that have reached functional multiplicity, but we do sometimes think the experiences of non-CDD systems give a good idea of what it can feel like, what it can look like. Not identical, but still. I think our view will be different as we recover. In some ways already, we almost view our plurality as a plant, like a tomato bush or something. The disordered parts of it are like a weed growing around it, affecting the plant, becoming so entangled that you can't really separate them properly, especially not easily. Therapy is kinda like taking a gardening class, learning how to properly weed a garden - and getting the specific help for weeding in this particular situation, where the weeds are so wrapped around the actual plant. Over time, those weeds will be tamed, start to have a smaller influence on the plant. And even with functional multiplicity, those weeds will still be there, underneath the soil, and sometimes they'll grow more and start affecting the plant again and will need to be dealt with again, but for the most part, you're just left with the tomato bush - it's not growing quite the same as a tomato bush that never had weeds to deal with, cause it's learnt to grow and live despite that adversity, and while it's definitely doing better than it was, some parts of that change in growth are permanent. It's not a perfect metaphor, but it works fairly okay with describing our view of things in this regard.

I'm glad you liked the comparison there - and I do think that your points still stand, separate spaces are good to have as options.

Ahh okay, I can see those being especially weird to hear about if you've never encountered them before. We've definitely interacted with headmate creation before (tbh we tried it once just to see if we could, a few years ago). System-hopping, we've tangentially interacted with - it's a complex explanation, that I can give if you'd like, but it's also not necessarily the "same" as the system-hopping that's normally heard about - and nowadays we don't really hear about it much at all - though we aren't as involved in (pro-)endo spaces as we once were, it's mostly just syscourse and some close-knit friendships or communities that we really engage in for system stuff. Do you recall any specific odd interactions between plurals and their headmates? Or do you just remembering some feeling odd? System collapse, and all the adjacent or equivalent terms… yeah we've had experience with systems who've had that happen for them, and honestly there's a part of us that wonders if it's something we experienced when we were younger. Definitely a confronting thing to encounter, I'd be open to discuss our experiences and thoughts around it if you'd like. Weird urges as well, I'd like to hear if you have more detail you can give on that, too. I do think even the less-disordered-seeming presentations and experiences can vary quite a lot even amongst CDD systems specifically - and obviously the disordered ones can vary a lot too. We've met a lot of CDD systems over the years, and each one definitely has its own structure, its own way of doing things. Sometimes there's similarities, other times they can feel very different. They still generally make sense when you understand the roots, if you're trusted with that information, and apply that alongside knowledge of how dissociation and trauma stuff works with CDDs, but it can be hard sometimes. Having a ton of focus on those experiences makes sense, in a shared space, but I think it would have been nice to at least have a section of that space for the more CDD-focused experiences. This is actually something that's good to see even within CDD-focused spaces, actually - there are some experiences that are going to be more specific to certain alter types or roles. Persecutors are going to appreciate a space that's built for them, where they won't be judged, they can voice their frustrations and concerns, just be themselves and talk about their experiences, and for that to be fine. One server we're in (we mostly lurk in it though) has two channels for this: one for persecutor alters to hang out in and chat about what they want to, and an additional one for any questions or advice-seeking that non-persecutors can direct towards persecutors for trying to understand how to better manage their own (which the persecutors can choose whether or not they engage with). I think maybe with a similar style of structuring a shared space, that could very well allow for CDD-focused discussions to have their own space, with an additional section for those without CDDs (or questioning if they have one or not) to ask questions to better understand things. An idea, at least, for how shared spaces could better accommodate CDD experiences. Hm, I'd definitely be interested to see if you would notice similar differences in the way we talk about our own experiences, given we're also a fairly pro-endo CDD system. I can understand it being hard to explain those differences. It might be easier to work out some of this stuff in a more conversational format, than series of reblogs. If you'd be interested in exploring that, you're more than welcome to DM us, we can either use tumblr dms or exchange discords, etc. - You generally seem like a cool person overall, and someone we'd enjoy being friends with.

Ahh okay, I think that makes more sense when you re-explain it there. Definitely agree that there's more of a focus on shared spaces in the pro-endo community - it's inherently an inclusive kind of environment, or at the very least tries to be, at its core, even if it misses the mark at times. I can kinda see why the separated spaces could be seen as unnecessary by some, and perhaps that viewpoint suggests that a sub-section of the shared space that's dedicated to the specific experiences of one part of the wider group would be more comfortable for some than having entirely separate spaces. Personally we think both approaches have their merits. And we definitely dislike that some will demonise separated spaces - though we can kinda understand why, too. Non-CDDs may feel excluded, which… frankly in some cases is something they just need to understand that the space is not built for them. I personally wouldn't mind them being in the CDD-specific space as long as they don't make it about non-CDD experiences. There's also the question of where mixed-origin systems fit in, sometimes. Even those with a CDD still have a lot of experiences that fit with non-CDD systems, and in a space that's CDD-specific, I think it'd still be worthwhile to have a section of that space that allows for those discussions. The lines between those experiences is blurry, and mixed-origin (trauma-endo, etc.) systems kinda prove that simply by existing, and I do think that we ought to accommodate them too, within a CDD-centric environment. If we can't create a space for CDDs where every system with CDD experiences can feel like they belong in, then it's not going to be solving the issue, fully. It's going to leave some people to the wayside who should be able to benefit from the space. From talking to a mixed-origin system we know, some of their difficulties with CDD exclusive spaces is that it's often unclear if mixed-origin CDD systems are welcome (particularly those with non-CDD experiences as well). And if they are welcomed in, it needs to be done in a way that doesn't require that they basically hide their non-CDD experiences and pretend they don't exist within the server. Even for us, we'd feel uncomfortable if we couldn't talk about some of the experiences we have with our system that aren't specifically related to our CDD. I think the way it needs to be handled is rather delicate, but doable. Tbh if we had the energy to moderate such a space, we'd consider building one ourself - with some help of course to run it. For some, shared spaces are enough. I think it's also worth considering why people like the shared spaces, why they like the discussions that have very little to do with the disordered experiences, even as a CDD system. Like we mentioned before, sometimes we deliberately let the curtains go up around some of our disordered experiences, cause we just wanna vibe, and enjoy some parts of our existence as a system, without always acknowledging the hardships that come along with having a CDD. Shared spaces that are focused on those positive experiences - ones that non-CDD and CDD systems can both share, even if they're not identical - can be really nice and relaxing and joyful. There was a period of our life where we thrived in those shared spaces, because we were struggling with irl experiences that it was nice to take a break. Sometimes a part of the shared spaces is a bit of escapism, and it's not too different from any other space, like those for hobbies, where the focus is on having a good time. But, we do agree that these shared spaces should still provide space for the nitty gritty of being disordered. We think that'd make them more comfortable for us, too - and maybe we'd engage with those spaces too. We think they also need to be built around mature discussion - where managing your own symptoms is expected, to engage in the environment in a way that minimises harm where possible.

(Responding to the same paragraph as above) As far as separate terms go, while I don't think that every term should be shared, I also don't think they really need to be separated more than they already are. CDD is a very good label to separate the experiences. I'm not really sure what kind of terms would really be helpful with separating experiences more than CDD already does, while also not excluding those who sit somewhere in the middle of experiences. Perhaps this comes from our viewpoint of plurality all being on a spectrum, that they're not experiences that are separated by a pane of glass and only look similar - we think they're very linked. I'd compare the differences in some ways to those of CDDs that are polyfragmented vs not. We are not polyfragmented, and frankly we don't fully understand the polyfrag experience. Conceptually we understand it, but it's not something we can really imagine experiencing, which can make it difficult to properly empathise. Not to mention that polyfragmented experiences vary just as much as non-polyfrag CDD experiences do. There're a lot of grey areas, a lot of nuance. But we still know that polyfragmented CDD experiences are still linked to non-polyfragmented CDD experiences - they're both CDD experiences, but there're differences. To us, it's a similar difference with non-CDD experiences to CDD experiences. They feel linked, fundamentally, with regards to dissociation, but that dissociation functions differently, so while there's plenty of similarities, there's also plenty of differences, too. And mixed-origin systems inherently indicate the possibility of shifting from one part of the plurality spectrum to another part. So, while we think some separate terms make sense, we also think others don't. I think system and plurality both are fine to share. CDD is a separating term for those experiences, just as polyfragmented is another separating term within the CDD umbrella. I'd like to hear more about your concerns with the terms being as they are now, though - maybe you'll help us see something we're missing. I hope that our viewpoint doesn't come across as belligerence here, as well. Our viewpoint on changing terms, at least currently, is not "too much work for a pointless outcome" one, but rather "is this actually productive? does this run the risk of doing more harm than good? What alternatives are there that can do good while avoiding harm?", and I hope that comes across in how we've been discussing this. (Both sides struggle with this, yeah, hopefully something that can change over time.)

Understandable that this is difficult - mental blocks can be rough to work through, especially figuring out why they're there, and if it's safe to figure out why they're there in the first place - be careful, and we wish you luck and safety with approaching this block, when you're in a position to. Hm, I find this interesting, and maybe in part this is because of our different viewpoints with regards to the identity lens, as mentioned above. For us, our viewpoint of our plurality being so tied into our identity, feels exactly the same as the "autistic people" side of things is. I'm not a person with a system. I'm not a person with a CDD. I'm a system. I'm a CDD system. It is who I am, at a fundamental level, it's my identity, the core of my being and existence. I will always be a system. I will always be a CDD system, even if the system shifts to no longer be governed by the disordered aspects of the CDD. It's similar to our autism. It affects so much of who we are, we can't be separated from it, even if we have found ways to be able to adapt our live to accommodate for certain difficulties that being autistic to the point where it's become so normal and we rarely are affected by it negatively. It's a part of our identity, and our identity is also it. Our ADHD is the same (though I do wish it had a term like "autistic" that could work well so I don't have to say I have ADHD, I'd like an "I am X" term to use for it - ADHDer is fine in a pinch, I suppose), and honestly I think can fit our view of system stuff a little better than the autism side of things (though you could certainly use the different presentations and support needs levels for that too) - ADHD has different subtypes, generally being "inattentive", "hyperactive", and "combined". This doesn't work perfectly, as all forms of ADHD are a disorder, while non-CDD plurality is not disordered, but bear with me. We still have those labels of separation (subtypes) within ADHD, on top of the existing base (being the dopamine deficiency, generally). Plurality feels similarly, where there's still the same base - being plural, being a system, multiple, etc. - and then you have the separation labels on top of that, CDD vs non-CDD. The separation labels for both are descriptive. I'm still an ADHDer. I'm still a system. But including the separation labels, I'm a combined-type ADHDer, and I'm a CDD system. Endogenic vs Traumagenic have often been used as well, but given mixed-origin things and also the varied ways that people apply origin labels, it gets messy at times. The plural rings label viewpoint also falls short, with Adaptive being the equivalent term for CDD or Traumagenic, and while not inherently indicating origin with its wording, but rather structure, the rings themselves also do tend to have a lot of associations with origin through the other rings - spontaneous, created, and unknown, all being words to describe how the system (or a given alter) came to be, and adaptive can align with that too. It's hard to find labels (or sets of labels) that properly do everything you want them to while also not stepping on toes or excluding people that should be included. Moving on though, so we don't ramble too much more on this particular part - can always add more after your response to this.

Ahh okay, that makes more sense, then, I think. Shared spaces are generally going to focus on the most common experiences, for better or for worse. A lot of the issues tend to feel like problems with just how the shared spaces are structured, rather than the shared spaces themselves. There needs to be those sub-sections of a shared space that allow for discussions of experiences that are specific to one group but not the other - visible to all, but the discussions stay relevant to what they're meant to be relevant for. This applies on both sides, too. For non-CDD systems, having spaces for discussion around created plurality (willogenic and tulpamancy experiences - even sub-sections for each individually) makes sense, as not every non-CDD system has created alters, or is a created system. Sub-sections for non-CDDs who became systems unintentionally, or don't know how they became one, etc. as well. And the in-between experiences there too, unintentional created alters/systems. And on the CDD system side of things, you can divide different experiences up further, like different alter roles, polyfragmented experiences, potentially others as well - with some needing more care and such with how they're handled, due to some of the risks that can come with engaging in topics around certain aspects, but that's something that needs to be managed in CDD-specific spaces, too. The medicalised aspects of CDD experiences do get neglected far too much, in shared spaces. It does depend which spaces you find yourself in, but it's definitely not an uncommon problem. I can understand feeling like you're the token anti-endo in a lot of places, and while I do think there's endo-supportive spaces that you'd probably find people who agree with you on a lot of aspects, especially with your complaints of how the (pro-)endo community does things (we agree with you on a lot of it, as it is), those spaces will also include people with experiences you disagree with - and engaging in those spaces would need to be done with an open mind, or with the ability to just let certain aspects of that be without debating it. Approaching stuff you don't understand or that doesn't make sense with curiosity, gentle observation, and probably most importantly reading/hearing things in good faith can do a lot.

(Continuation of the section above) I think it also really helps to have people who look at even non-CDD plurality not from a medicalised view but still a psychology view, to talk to. It's part of why we developed our view of things being more or a spectrum than entirely separate experiences, because looking at things from a psychology lens and discussing that with non-CDD systems that we know who enjoy doing the same, really helps with seeing just how similar things are, while also recognising not just the differences, but the why of those differences, the how, from a more scientific understanding. A lot of the discussions are theoretical - I'm not a scientist, I can't prove anything, ultimately, but it's still interesting to collaborate on coming up with theories that feel plausible and make sense, and maybe could be proven right or wrong some day. A lot of our process going into a lot of this is to assume that the wider-spread experiences that people have are real - there's so many people with a shared experience that it would be kinda unreasonable to think that they're all making this up, or misinterpreting things. So then we try to ensure that any theories we come up with don't invalidate those experiences. Mixed-origin systems require that CDD and non-CDD plurality both must be linked - you must have a way to shift from one to the other. This does get a little messy sometimes with how certain labels are used inconsistently, but we've come up with ways of explaining things that account for those - and maybe they're not perfect, but we like them, and can always adjust them as needed. Keeping our worldview of all of this as flexible as possible so that we can adjust as necessary when new information comes in, really helps. Some parts of the structure are solid, other parts are more fluid, elastic.

We rambled a bit there, sorry - continuing on with responding to the next part of your paragraph (same one as above)

I'm sorry that you also feel like an odd one out even within anti-endo space. We haven't been in anti-endo spaces in a long time - the one time we were in one (it was for a PluralKit clone that no longer exists, but we liked some of the functionality that it had that was different to PK, as well as it being a very good back-up for when PK crashed) we felt like we had to be very very careful about what we said with regards to our views. It was very clear that if we dared breathe a word of not thinking that endos were either faking or just CDD systems that didn't realise it, we'd be ostracised and likely kicked. At one point it did come up, and thankfully we were able to defuse the situation enough to not get kicked (wanted the server for support with the bot, primarily), but it was not a fun experience. This was before we really got into syscourse stuff, and generally just had a "live and let live" mentality, but we also knew a couple endo systems and generally didn't have a reason to doubt their self-determination of how their system formed and functioned. It was probably one of our first experiences with a space dominated by a deeply anti-endo viewpoint (we'd had some tangentially before then but that was more to do with whether the space should have been CDD-exclusive or not - given the space had a mix of stances and generally wasn't a syscourse environment, while some sentiment of endos not being real/valid came up, it was often quashed, and the focus of whether or not to allow endos in was more the focus). Honestly, I'm curious what it's like in anti-endo servers these days - given how the anti-endo community has more of a divide between those who disagree with non-CDD systems as being a real and valid thing vs those who simply have issues with being around non-CDD systems and/or want nothing to do with (pro-)endo systems, CDD or otherwise, I imagine that the dynamic has shifted a lot. What's it like in those spaces, nowadays? From an outside perspective, I do wish that there were more distinct terms for those two flavours of anti-endo. It would also probably help with a lot of the discourse around things - the majority of flak that (pro-)endos direct towards anti-endos is primarily for the ones that don't believe in non-CDD systemhood at all - but due to the lack of separating labels within the anti-endo community (and frankly, a lack of understanding on a lot of the (pro-)endo community's side that there even are multiple sub-sections of the anti-endo community - something that we get frustrated by a lot and could make an entire post about, like yes I know it's still "anti-endo" and that generally has a history of meaning "anti-the-existence-and-validity-of-endogenic-systems", that doesn't mean that's what it means now, even if some of the anti-endo community still matches that description) then those who just wanna be left alone by (pro-)endos end up being caught in the crossfire. It's something that needs to be worked on, on the (pro-)endo side, but also something that would be easier to manage if there was more of a separation within the anti-endo community - even just as far as labels for stance within that. Someone we spoke to recently suggested "endo-averse" as a term, and honestly that's one that could work well - "endo-avoidant" also could fit. What do you think about this? Also I'm glad you've been seeing more people sharing your stance, and I hope that's something you've seen on both sides, too, even if one side perhaps has it more common than the other.

Gonna put this next bit in its own paragraph (apologies again for the length), even though it's still part of the same one from your response. A couple of friends raised a few good points regarding pro-endo CDD systems not talking about their disordered experiences as much - especially mixed-origin systems, so I'll include those points in here too. There are a lot of factors for this. Sometimes people don't really want to talk as much about their disordered experiences in general, they want an escape from them and will use the shared space with non-disordered systems to do that. Other times, it absolutely could be the issue of there not being an area within that space for that discussion to happen. Non-CDD systems do sometimes not do a great job of allowing CDD-focused discussions to just be about CDD experiences without inserting their own or demanding that their experiences be acknowledged and accounted for within the conversation. I think it's a loud minority, but it would be appreciated if the non-CDD systems that don't cause this problem could perhaps be a voice in telling those that do cause the problem to, well, not. Some pro-endos or pro-endo leaning CDDs do this, but it'd be more effective if it came from an actual non-CDD system too. Other than that, with the more positive-focused environment that a lot of shared spaces tend to have, similar to that of a hobby-based discord server, like one dedicated to a specific game or something, it's not necessarily the space for vulnerability (which, absolutely a good discussion point on its own), or at least doesn't really allow for it, sometimes. Some discord servers have had some amount of area that's good for vulnerability, but even then it's limited, and the amount of support can vary, often due to many simply not knowing how to support people through it. Sometimes it's also the more public aspect of it, many people don't feel comfortable sharing as much about their struggles in a public space, but would be more okay with it in a smaller one, or in a private group or dm or such, with people they trust. And perhaps this can highlight a problem with some shared spaces being just how big they are. It's hard for things to feel really personal when there's so many people in a given space. Even in a CDD-specific space, it can also create an amount of fear because that involves people with different syscourse stances (and in a way, separate spaces are still shared spaces, just with a smaller scale of what's being shared), and that can feel very threatening, depending on the experiences and stances in question. Like you've said, even some of the experiences that pro-endo CDD systems talk about still feel different, strange, foreign, for you. Would talking about those experiences be okay in your ideal of a CDD-exclusive space? For our own experiences, not everything feels super linked to having a CDD - and honestly it's probably something that will become more prevalent the more we recover, where more experiences won't be so focused on the disorder - happening alongside it, sure, but not always related to it - and those experiences will be more akin to those that non-CDD systems can experience - would we be allowed to talk about those experiences within the CDD-specific space, or would we be expected to not talk about them? Especially in regards to the lens of experiences changing with recovery, I think there needs to be care taken to ensure that the focus remains on CDD experiences as a whole, and not just low-recovery CDD experiences. Definitely could go a lot more into this but this paragraph is already gonna be really long, but if you'd like us to go into more detail, we'll be more than happy to do so.

(Continuation of above) There's also the discussion around created alters within CDD systems - we've made one before, and while she's since fused, if she was still around, would we be expected to just kinda not talk about her? Would she have been expected to stay out of discussions? What about other alters that aren't trauma-based within CDD systems? (I know what-ifs can be frustrating for you, from stuff that's been posted on your blog in the past, but they are very important to think about with how varied and nuanced being even just a CDD system can be.) With regards to mixed-origin systems in this kind of environment, many may not feel safe being in or talking about certain experiences in an environment where people who disagree with mixed-origin systems may be present. This raises another question: in this CDD-exclusive space, do you allow anti-endos that don't believe in non-CDD systemhood? If you do, does that mean you then disallow CDD systems that have non-CDD-related system experiences/history, or do you think they can co-exist? It also just makes sense a bit for mixed-origin systems to talk about their CDD-related experiences a bit less than non-mixed CDD systems do, because they very much have a mix of experiences, to a greater degree than non-mixed CDD systems do, so they'll talk about both.

Lastly, for this paragraph/section, I find it interesting that you found that created plurals in particular have a larger focus than any other kind of plurality within (pro-)endo spaces, by the sounds of it even moreso than non-created non-CDD systems. I do want to ask: How many pro-endo spaces have you been in, to see what it's like there, etc.? What do you search when you try to find them? What platforms do you look for them on? While I'm absolutely not going to discount your experiences, I do wonder if you've unfortunately stumbled into the spaces that end up being more dominated by non-CDDs and missed out on seeing the better-run spaces. We've seen spaces like those you've described, and can agree with the problems you're describing when we think of those spaces, but we also have seen spaces that don't have those issues.

Alrighty, onto your last paragraph. We can generally agree with a lot of what you're saying here, it sounds like it'd be a good way of structuring the community. A lot of the ideas here are subject to demand for them - additional separating terms (without necessarily changing existing ones) can be good, if enough people feel a need for them - obviously anyone can use a new label for themselves (pluralpedia, while not always great as a resource, has a ton of terms for different experiences, that range from hyper-specific to more broad - and some are more specific to CDDs, though most are either non-CDD-specific or are broad enough to be shared - many use some of these labels even if they're a bit more obscure), but if it's going to be wide-spread use of a new term, it needs to have people who want to use it. Maybe there's a demand for that, maybe there isn't. Even looking at spaces, equal number of shared vs separate spaces is still dependent on demand - but also we're free to make as many spaces for each as we please, really, thanks to the internet. It doesn't take much to make a discord server, it doesn't even cost any money. Running it, is a whole other question, let alone getting people to join - advertising it on tumblr or some sites like Disboard or such can help, but people will still only join if they want to join. I do think there is definitely demand for each, but shared spaces are always going to have more demand simply by virtue of being shared. I think overall though, your core ideal sounds pretty solid, it'd be a good way of running things. Do I think it's possible? I think it depends if we can get to a point where origin discourse can finally be laid to rest. I think that'll be a big dividing factor for a wider plural community, and it's a prevalent problem even now, that causes a lot of separation. We also need to work on the other problems in the pro- and anti-endo communities, but I think those are doable, if people are willing to change and improve things, and I hope people are willing to. Leading by example helps, I think. It'll probably take quite some time, but we can get there.

Thankyou for responding as well, and answering the questions we've had, I'm glad you've had fun with them~ You're also more than welcome to ask us questions as well, we also enjoy discussing our experiences and stances and such - and these kinds of calmer discussions while not necessarily agreeing on everything can be really insightful. We look forward to your response, when you're able to.

Huh, that's neat, one of the current syscourse topics is relevant to something I was thinking about earlier.

One thing that I see a lot of endos do that annoys the fuck out of us is they like to make conversations about CDDs about them. I know a lot of people reading that will go "No we don't!! Endos rarely ever do that!!" to which I say; just because you haven't seen it, doesn't mean it's not happening. I myself have seen this a ton, I see people claiming that "anything a CDD system experiences an endo can too", people saying there should be no separation of terms at all (very common to see sadly) some saying that there shouldn't be CDD exclusive spaces, that endos belong everywhere that CDD systems do, all sorts of things all the time. I've even seen a lot of people who rarely ever claim this kind of thing, knowingly or not.

There seems to be this idea that endos need to be involved in everything. Some believe there are no differences, some know there are differences but that they "don't matter at the end of the day", this idea that there should be minimal separation. So much push back at the idea of separate terms, and, as said before, endos making CDD experiences about them. They get mad if they aren't included in everything, and people seem to hate the fact that we insist on there being more separation, both in terms and communities, in regards to plurality. So, since syscourse is talking about it for once, I'll share our thoughts from an anti endo perspective so yall can see how this whole thing looks to an anti.

In our eyes, our plurality in inseparable from our disorder. We wouldn't be plural at all without it, and all the various symptoms don't just exist on the side of our plurality, like some seem to suggest. No, it blends together with our other symptoms, to the point of being nothing outside our disorder. A lot of endos talk about their plurality in a very different way we do, viewing it through the lens of identity, but for many CDD systems, it's always viewed through the lens of disability and disorder first and foremost. Seeing how they talk about their plurality, how they seem to experience it, how they deal with it, it's very different from how we and many other CDD systems do.

The thing is, our plurality can't be seen in a vacuum. We really hate (pro) endos saying they're "more similar to us than we think" because we genuinely can't see how. We aren't just plural, we aren't just a disordered plural, our plurality is our disorder, and our disorder is our plurality. I know many don't like people talking about it that way, but it's how things are for us. It's unbelievably frustrating to see people constantly insist that we should "focus on the similarities" and "just accept them" when it's hard to believe they really experience what we do.

I'll put it this way; AuDHD. It's the combination of autism and ADHD, and some think that you just have both of them, nothing special, but the truth is, they blend together to create something entirely new. Sure, we have similar experiences to autistic people, and those with ADHD, but it's not the same. I still feel as though my experience as an AuDHD person is still very different from people with one or the other, because both of them have become inseparable. You can't view our ADHD without our autism, and vice versa.

I know what I lot of you are thinking, "But they still can talk about their experiences and be in the same spaces!" Here's the thing about that; both still have the disorder. Both still have these similar experiences because they have the same diagnosis we do. The reason endos frustrate me so damn much, why I can't stand their constant insistence on making everything about them, demanding that we share almost everything, getting mad when I want there to be separate terms; is because they have only a few symptoms, usually only one or two, then claim that it's "so similar" to mine. That's what annoys us so damn much. Yes, I DO feel like there are tons of important differences, because while their plurality isn't affected by a CDD, because they don't have one, ours is completely entangled in our CDD. It's irritating because it's not just that we're multiple, it's that said plurality is constantly blending and mixing with all the other symptoms of our disorder. They claim to have it in at the very least, a similar capacity to us, and it's so irritating because theirs isn't so entangled with a CDD. Just like with AuDHD, our plurality blends together with our other symptoms into something entirely new. It's hard to put into words, mostly because I can't figure out what we would be like if we weren't so completely entangled with our OSDD. It's hard for us to view systemhood separate from CDDs.

That's why we want separate terms. This whole "Oh just use CDD system" or "Just say you're traumagen" isn't fucking enough. I know to a lot of people that's stupid, but I really can't see how just differing origin terms are enough to encapsulate how much of a different world it feels like we live in. I know people think we're being dramatic, but I just wish I could get people to see things the way we do, just for a bit. It's so hard to put into words, and I still feel like even if I could put it fully into words, I'm not sure (pro) endos would get it.

I may not remember the specifics on what we saw in the pro endo spaces we were in, but I remember exactly how we felt. It was so...alien to us, for lack of a better word. It really did feel like we were living in completely different realities from them. When we talked directly to an endogenic, despite the similarities, something about the way they talked about it, something about how they experienced things, still felt so wildly different in a way I can't fully explain.

And it's especially awful to see so many say "You don't need to understand, just accept it" so much of the "just get over it" sentiment. So much "Make your own space if you don't like it." It just feels so dismissive. It really, genuinely feels like (pro) endos and endo neutrals with a pro lean are just, doing whatever the hell they want and are ignoring us. Our discomfort disregarded as "just go to therapy and leave everyone alone." It really does feel like everyone aside from us has decided that whatever they're doing is the best. That just shoving everyone together is the best option. That separation is "just too hard" and "pointless" to even bother trying at all. I know many don't give a fuck about what we feel, or want to bother taking our discomfort and needs into account, but the thing is, we're far from the only ones that feel this way. Practically every anti endo I've ever seen feels almost the exact same way we do.

I know a lot of people see this stuff as just pointless, bigoted gatekeeping. But many pro endo CDD systems aren't particularly benefitting from how things are either. Sure, they feel differently than we do, I'm sure, but plenty have expressed a need for separation regardless of stance. I really, really want people to take the idea of more separate communities and terms and think on it. Even if things don't end up the way we want it, it's very clear that something needs to change, and frankly I don't thing this whole hyper acceptance and sharing near everything approach is working. Even though tons of endos seem to prefer being as close to CDD spaces as possible, it really doesn't look like this kind of setup is working for as many CDD systems as people think it is. I don't mean to speak over pro endo CDD systems by any means, I'm just saying, maybe giving at least a little bit of the more separation approach a chance would be a good thing.

I guess the point I'm getting at here is that being separate isn't always gatekeeping bullshit. It's not always the worst thing ever. I know quite a few prefer things as close as possible, but those of us who prefer more separation are being shoved out and told to fuck off and go somewhere else. Basically, it really feels like people are making a "compromise" where we get the short end of the stick and are told to just deal with it. That we just need to swallow our discomfort to make everyone else comfortable. So many people complain that anti endos are ruining everything, that we're taking everything over and not letting anyone else have room, but from our perspective, it's the other way around. In our experience, we're being kind of suffocated by (pro) endos everywhere. Which one's true, I can't tell at all, I'm just going off my own experience here. I'm just trying to say, I don't think that just letting everyone share everything isn't the best compromise.

And before anyone comes at us, going "Oh but antis need to meet us halfway!" Look. I'm doing my part as best I can. I can only do so much, I'm doing what I can, I'm trying to get other antis to be better too. Just because a lot of antis are unreasonable right now, doesn't mean it's not worth at least trying to accommodate for us, just like how a ton of (pro) endos refusing to talk to antis peacefully doesn't mean yall aren't worth trying to accommodate.

-Kaz

[sysig]

For the last day of requestober, can you please draw something spooky/scary with Negative RGB? With all the cool lighting stuff you've been doing recently, I think it could be very dramatic, and I'd love to see him in your style!

Day 31 -Pl̷̼͙̯̼̟̈́͒̃̓͆e̵̢͔̞̤̯͗as̴̨͆̒̏e dö̸̧̢̝̳́͝ not̸̨̞͔̗͆̔͝ͅ ̶̦̋͒a̵̪͋̉̈́̒djus̶̪͔͎̘͈̍́̂̅̚t yö̶̙̺͎́͘u̷͚̙̿̓͆r sc̸̙͍͒rę̸̰̺̣̿̓͌̔̎en̴̏̈́͊ͅ

[onyxsboxes]

[mecha--maniac]

Giving the scrungles chao saga

Mephiles's? Sweet babyangel service chao; if they did races Meph would definitely be dancemom manipulative of the other chao handlers just to make them fight, with the chao being none the wiser.

Metal's starts off as a feral little shit that loves to bite; but biting is not very effective on Metal, so oops bro, looks like you have been government assigned a chao (Who eventually warms up to him with the correct combination of ignoring their shenanigans and manhandling them into being socialized. No, we are having a nice day at the beach, you may not go and bite small children)

The third one is for an unpictured different Metal. This one was a rescue and is very shy, but their mommy is very scary with a resting murder face which gives them some more confidence as they grow up. Anyone who messes with this chao would wind up mysteriously missing.

If these were in the game...

Meph's chao would operate like a chaos chao, except it needs higher stats in power and flight.

Metal chao 1 would be neutral/speed/flight with a disproportionate amount of kangaroos and/or bug animals givin to it.

Metal chao 2 would be dark/power/flying, raised primarily on drives and dragons.

[modelxis]

Do you have any mmzx oc?

I do, actually! you can check the mmzx oc in my search tag (i should make a separate tags for OCs and my arts on this blog)

tbh, i can't really say much💦

Not that i want to keep them as secret, more like my head is a messy place, even i forgot details from times to times Also like, i tend to re-use NPCs and give them roles...so...saying they are my OCs are... not correct😅

well, i can give you a quick run down about them here if you're interested in reading my messy writing

🛵Giro Express transporter

these two are the one so far that i'm fine with the designs (they are adopts from @/noeggets (go check them out, really cool artist) these aren't their real names, rather code-names that they used to hide their true identities, or precisely their old past 🛵Blue-hair girl is Mint, she focus on communicating with customers and all the paper works jobs, she good at hacking, has trouble with addiction which confuse a lot of people cuz' why a Reploid has that sort of problem, she actually exists since mmz era, and know Rouge, the operator of the Resistance. She was one of few people that works inside NA and help the Resistance by giving coordination to Rouge so Zero can have a safe transportation into certain areas. 🛵Purple hair girl is Campanula (the flower, Canterbury bells), a human (she is in mid 20s, just very short) , mainly works in storage, she is a skilled mechanic so she tend to helps with fixing the vehicles, mainly Aile because Aile tend to go into far more restricted-dangerous zones, sometimes the Guardian base would require her helps, despite her cheerfulness and outgoing attitude at first glance, she has troubles express her true thoughts and critics unless she feel comfortable around you.

(not final design) 🛵His name is Tomi, Yes, he count as an employees, he "disguise" himself as a motorcycle for delivering, mainly Aile use him. a mavericks gone "rouge" cuz' he got effected by the virus which was made by Campanula, it's not that he became more docile or kind, altho Campanula made sure he is incapable of attacking specifically her, he just...become more self-aware of his existence and decided that he prefer using his skill for st else other than be treated as a secondary mini-boss. He does genuinely like Campanula due to her carefulness when its come to machines, even to Mavericks like him. Other than her, Aile is another one that he also like because she impressed him with her riding skills (think of all the stunt from GTA video games) which lead to him admiring human tendency to seek danger as some sort of fun challenges. (he is one of the few OCs that i considered to be the oldest cuz' i had this concept for a long time ever since i played mmz)

(not final design, also thank you @/tyrantchimera for the sketch! Check their blog out, they are both cool artist and writer) 🛵Her name is Lake, she named it herself (or you can say OP is very uncreative when it comes to naming, lol) Another Mavericks gone "rouge", she became docile when failed to fully control Model L. she is one of few test subjects for Serpent to check how he can manipulate Ciel's biometals for his troops, Leviathan's subconscious "convinced" Lake to turn good which she success and Lake managed to escaped Serpent's controls but failed to take model L with her. She encountered Aile post-Ouroboros downfall, helping to pinpoint the leftover pieces of model Ws to ensure they stayed dead. (Aile didn't reveal Vent who was helping them finding the pieces, why tho? no idea currently, lol...) Then later on, she was saved by Aile and worked as some sort of submarine to transport packages and all sort of heavy stuffs across sea.

❌Others

(not the final design) This old Reploid guy is Leo (funny enough, he is "younger" than Mint) He was made around the same time as Prometheus and Pandora (he doesn't know them but aware of their reputation) but instead of staying youthful, he remain as old (simply for aesthetic choice, "old-looking people are cool") He is a skilled mechanic, also a trader for rare parts and "illegal" equipments for people who don't want Legion's eyes on them (especially with the news about Master Albert gone Mavericks, lots more people been looking into this type of service)

Well, these are the one that has designs I have a loooot more, but they are all from a long time ago, and i do wish i can find those old papers again but not like i will reuse the designs.

well, i hope some of these make sense if you managed to read it all.