#then bam! plot twist

[slyandthefamilybook]

Wolf 359 may not be horror but it is without a doubt the best example I've seen of how to pace a build-up and disseminate a mystery

[cricketmilk]

It’s absolutely wild how the Owls of Ga’hoole books have a writing style with the reading comprehension of a four year old, and then throw out wildly graphic scenes like this out of the blue

[luvistqrzzz]

THAT BITCH SOOHA

[kitmarloweki]

The Newsreader season 2 episode 6 moodboard

[curseofbreadbear]

god i know f.naf lore has been retconned Many times, but it feels like it was so much more subtle in the Olden Days. you can poke SO many holes in the stories following s.ecurity b.reach (glaring at g.gy). and idc what s.teel wool says, there is no WAY gregory was always meant to be the "big bad." that much is obvious from cut content & unused files

[runninguplenorahills]

Ok so the actors have obviously lied in interviews before, right? And idk, the fact that Finn always somehow ends up dodging byler questions by emphasizing that Mike is clueless about Will’s feelings and by extension about the fact that Will was talking about himself in the van, seems so fucking strange to me?!?!?

Idk, I kinda think Finn was instructed to mention that Mike is clueless only so they can have a very delicious plot twist next season that Mike did understand Will in the van! That Mike did know about how Will feels but ended up being lead to believe that he was wrong about it due to that cursed monologue scene! And I guess that means Mike does end the season with being clueless about Will’s feelings but in a very different way.

[sparklestheunicorn]

Erika johansen always choosing the most obvious option for a plot twist until it came time to choose who kelsea's father was. Iconic behaviour I must say

[merrins-brew]

I love murder mysteries so much

[lexirosewrites]

Slick Sundayyyyy

A/b/o Mafia au where alpha Eddie is the leader of a very important underground drug ring or something, named hellfire, and they use a gay bar as a front. Eddie’s all unhinged, has killed people, will kill again, everyone except his immediate group are absolutely terrified of him, he’s got the Corroded Coffin gang and Nancy and shit on his side,

plot twist- Eddie finds out that Stevie, the cute omega that’s been flirting with him for about a month when Eddie is bartending, is actually an assassin from a high end cartel hired to kill him. Cue him and his group drugging and kidnapping Steve, torturing him for information, except Steve is really good and must be highly trained because he doesn’t crack,

and about a week in Eddie is watching the news because staying up to date is really important in his line of work, and sees a missing persons report for a kindergarten teacher, Steve Harrington, and they all realize they fucked up, because if Steve really was part of a guild, they would have kept him out of the news, and the informant actually gave them the wrong person,

so now Eddie has to grapple with the fact that he kidnapped and tortured a completely innocent kindergarten teacher that he had a crush on (and maybe that betrayal influenced how bad the torture got), and now Steve knows too much so he either has to join them or die, and of course Steve spent a week being brutally tortured so he’s got a lot of trust issues and trauma, because on his end he just wanted to spend his Saturdays flirting with a cute guy and unwinding from being covered in glitter and snot and then said cute guy who Steve was about to ask on a date ends up committing heinous crimes against humanity against Steve’s body and he’s never been a well rounded person anyways, was on medication and therapy to help him be a normal person because of a fucked up childhood, and this has fucked everything up,

Anyways eventually Eddie earns his forgiveness and BAM crazed murder couple

and what if i cried about steve being tortured and feeling so broken and betrayed because he was finally happy and having fun only to be scared of everything, utterly terrified of the person who offers him comfort🥲

[wenellyb]

9-1-1 Season 7 Episode 4: Was Buck lying when he said he was trying to get Tommy's attention?

I'm a little frustrated about the people who said that Buck was lying when he said he was trying to get Tommy's attention because according to them, he was trying to get Eddie's attention not Tommy's, and the argument they use is the gym scene...

I'm frustrated because I want to ask them: "Have you guys never watched a TV show, ever?"

TV showrunners have different way of structuring their episodes, some episodes are set up to be emotionnal, some are set up to be dramatic or romantic, some are heavy on the action scenes and some are meant to get a surprised reaction by introducing a plot twist the audience didn't see coming. It can be a big plot twist like the finale of the 1st season of the Good Place or it can be a smaller one like in this episode of 911.

And whenever they want to set up a plot twist, the writers will put small hints along the way, that are not obvious right away but will contribute to the "ah" moment when everything clicks into place after the plot twist is finally revealed.

The whole point of the episode was for people to think Buck was trying to get Eddie's attention because he was jealous of his best friend spending time with someone else and BAM, it's revealed that in fact it was the "someone else" Buck had been interested in all along.

And if you look closely, there are clues throughout the episode showing that it was about Tommy all along.

1. Buck asking Tommy for a tour.

At first we think that Buck was just testing the waters and thinking about switching jobs but at the end of the episode Buck reveals it's because he was trying to get Tommy's attention.

Moreover, a lot of people assume Buck was disappointed because Tommy left with Eddie and he was jealous about Eddie. But if you pay attention, Buck's smile drops the moment Tommy turns him down for drinks, and that was even before he saw Eddie in the car.

2. Buck's rant to Maddie

Buck was complaining about Eddie spending time with Tommy and even going to a basketball game with him.

And later when he talked to Maddie after accident accidentally injuring Eddie, he admitted he did it because he felt left out and was trying to get "his" attention.

But in retrospective, he never specified who he was trying to get attention from. He could have meant Eddie or Tommy.

And it's confirmed that he was indeed talking about Tommy when he says this.

3. The gym scene

We all assumed Buck was trying to get Eddie's attention when he was at the gym because he wanted to spend more time with him. But if Buck had wanted to hang out with Eddie, he would have just asked, they're best friends. Buck ordered the basket Ball because he wanted to be invited to the basketball game because Tommy would be there. Same for the karaoke. Buck never had a problem with asking Eddie to hang out, the only differentiating factor here is Tommy.

Why would Buck suddenly be so awkward around Eddie? He was trying to get an invite so he could see and when it didn't work he asked Chimney.

4. The basketball game

Buck admitted that he accidentally hurt Eddie because he was trying to get Tommy's attention.

5. The "big reveal"

Up until the very end of the episode we were made to believe Buck was being jealous of his best friend having a new best friend.

Even Tommy thought so.

It's not until Buck reveals he wanted to get to know Tommy and was trying to get his attention that everything clicks into place for the audience and we understand why Buck was acting like that.

We weren't watching someone being jealous over his best friend spending time with someone else but someone acting like a fool because he had a crush.

TL:DR: Buck was trying to get Tommy's attention all along. The show just set up the episode in a way that would lead to a plot twist, a "big" reveal and a romantic kiss.

What do you guys think? Was Buck trying to get Eddie's attention as well?

[warabidakihime]

Rules and Roses Chapter 6

★ characters: kibutsuji muzan x reader x akaza

★ plot summary: Kibutsuji Muzan has finally decided to expand his empire, and the way he intends to do so is by running for the highest political position. With you, his darling wife, at his side, he believes he can achieve and have everything the world has to offer. He is, after all, the Phoenix of Phario.

★ fic playlist: sometimes, same day, as time stops, wolf’s song (this is also the vision board for the fic). 

★ content warnings : implied violence, self-harm and abuse, profanities, toxic relationships, smut.

★ Previous Chapter

a/n: heya! things are finally picking up and it will only go up from here and then BAM! i wasn't able to update last weekend because i wasn't doing great mentally and i was also pretty tired because of work, and so i just focused on resting last weekend. but voila! a new chapter for y'all! i've not proofread this yet, so apologies if there are any typos or parts that confuses you. will fix those tomorrow morning.

i sincerely hope you've been enjoying this fic and i really would like to hear your thoughts so don't be shy and leave a comment or two! you have no idea how much your comments inspire me to write.

anyway! enjoy reading!

--

Year 2016

A vast, icy expanse stretches before the camera. The crowd's excited murmurs gradually build into a roaring applause as a spotlight illuminates the center of the ice.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are on the edge of our seats as we welcome back the phenomenal Y/N! The reigning champion, the undisputed queen of the ice, is about to grace us with her artistry once more,” the commentator exclaimed to the mic.

You glide onto the ice; your every movement, fluid and effortless, as if you're dancing on air. Your breath, visible in the cold, adds a touch of ethereal beauty to your performance.

“There she is! The moment we've all been waiting for! The crowd is on their feet, their eyes glued to every twist and turn. Her posture is impeccable, and her lines are clean and sharp. This is what true elegance looks like!”

The commentator continued, his voice filled with excitement and passion.

As you progress through your routine, the music swells, mirroring the intensity of your performance. You execute a series of complex jumps with astonishing ease, landing each one with precision and grace.

“And there it is! A triple axel, executed to perfection! The crowd is in awe. This woman is on a different level. Her speed, her power, her control—it's simply breathtaking. Watch as she transitions into a spin; look at that speed and the way she controls her body. It's like she's defying gravity itself!"

You transition into a series of spins, giving your body a blur of color and movement. The commentator’s voice becomes more animated.

“Unbelievable! She's a ballerina on ice! The way she blends strength and delicacy is simply mesmerizing. And did you catch that change of direction? From a Biellmann spin to a layback spin in mere seconds? It's like she's speaking a different language on the ice. A language only the greatest can understand.” 

As you approach the end of your routine, the music crescendos, and you unleash a final burst of energy. Your emotions are raw, and your movements are filled with passion.

“She's pouring her heart and soul into this performance! The crowd is on its feet, cheering and applauding. This is a moment that will be remembered for years to come. And can we talk about the flexibility? Those splits, those extensions! She's not just an ice skater; she's a gymnast on ice! A complete show stopper!”

The commentator exclaimed, his voice filled with awe.

A tear escapes your eye as you finish your routine, and you drop to the ice in a deep bow.

The crowd erupts in a standing ovation.

“A performance that transcends the boundaries of sport. Ice Queen Y/N has once again proven why she is the greatest ice skater of her generation. And speaking of greatness, this woman has it all. Talent, beauty, grace, and, let's not forget, a heart of gold. They say behind every successful woman is a great man, and this woman's boyfriend is definitely one to watch. Though we can't confirm anything, rumors have it that he's a rising star in the business world,” the commentator said, adding a touch of intrigue to his commentary.

You skate slowly towards the edge of the ice, your breath coming in short gasps. The crowd’s cheers and applause gradually subside as you approach your coach.

“And there she goes, skating towards her coach. A moment of pure relief and exhaustion. The pressure is off, and she can finally let go. This is a moment of truth, a moment of waiting. The scores will determine her fate. Let’s hope she’s brought her A-game today, but this is Y/N we're talking about; she's always on her A-game!” 

The camera cuts to the judges’ table as they begin their deliberation. The crowd holds their breath, their eyes glued to the screen.

After what feels like an eternity, the announcer steps up to the microphone.

“And the gold medal goes to... Y/N with a final score of 250.34 , a whopping 12.78 points ahead of her closest competitor! This not only secures her gold medal but also breaks her own world record, a record she has held for years! This is a historic moment, ladies and gentlemen!”

The announcer proclaimed, as the crowd erupts into a frenzy of cheers and applause.

The camera returns to you as you cover your face with your hands, tears of joy streaming down your cheeks. Your coach gave you a fatherly hug, obviously proud of the feat you have achieved. Your family and friends were screaming at the top of their lungs, trying their best to convey their support for you. Meanwhile, the crowd continues to cheer as confetti falls from the ceiling.

You raise your arms in victory, a radiant smile on your face.

The physical therapy room was a familiar purgatory. The sterile white walls and the metallic gleam of the equipment were a constant reminder of your limitations. Once a sanctuary of grace and athleticism, it had become a battleground for recovery.

You moved through the routine with mechanical precision, your movements devoid of the once-fluid grace. Your breath came in short, labored gasps as you pushed your body to its limits. The pain was a constant companion, a dull ache that pulsed through your leg. Yet you persevered, driven by a stubborn determination.

Akaza watched from the corner, his eyes following your every move. His expression was a mask of indifference, but his posture spoke a different story. Tension rippled through his muscles as he observed your struggle.

Finally, exhausted but determined, you collapsed onto the mat, sweat beading on your forehead. Your body ached, but there was a sense of satisfaction in pushing through the pain.

The doctor entered, his footsteps echoing in the quiet room. He carried a clipboard, and his expression was serious.

"How are you feeling today, Y/N?" he asked, his voice gentle.

You managed a weak smile. "Tired, but okay."

The doctor nodded, his eyes scanning your form. "The progress is steady. Your strength is improving, and the range of motion in your leg is expanding."

A flicker of hope ignited in your chest. "Does that mean I can start... doing more?"

The doctor hesitated, his expression turning somber.

"There is good news and bad news."

Your heart sank. "Tell me the bad news first."

"The bad news is, the full range of motion you once had is unlikely to return. The scar tissue and the nature of your injury have created limitations. While you can walk and perform daily activities without significant discomfort, activities that require sudden bursts of speed, agility, or excessive weight-bearing are still risky."

A wave of disappointment washed over you. You had never entertained the thought of returning to competitive skating. That chapter of your life was firmly closed. But the idea of never being able to skate again, even for leisure, was definitely a bitter pill to swallow.

"I understand," you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper.

"But," the doctor continued, his voice softening, "the good news is that you've exceeded expectations in your recovery. You're stronger than most people in your situation. With continued therapy and careful management, you can lead a normal, active life."

A normal life.

The word echoed in your mind.

A far cry from the extraordinary life you once lived.

"But remember, and I mean this in all seriousness, there are certain activities you should avoid," the doctor warned. "High-impact sports, for instance, are out of the question, and you need to be cautious about putting too much pressure on your leg."

You nodded, trying to absorb the information. The weight of disappointment was heavy on your shoulders.

"But I also want you to remember," the doctor added, "every day is a step forward, and you've come such a long way, Y/N. So you should be proud of your progress."

You forced a smile. "I am."

As the doctor left the room, you turned to Akaza. His eyes met yours, and in that brief moment, you saw a flicker of something in his gaze—a mixture of pity and something else, something you can quite pinpoint. You decided to dismiss it, attributing it to your overactive imagination.

Akaza approached you, his hand reaching out to offer support. "You're stronger than you think," he said, his voice low and comforting.

You took his hand, grateful for his presence. "I know," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

Akaza studied your face; his eyes were filled with a strange intensity. "I've seen stronger people break," he said, his voice barely audible. "But you... you're different."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his rather cryptic statement. "Oh?"

Akaza hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. "Some people," he began, his voice low, "are defined by limitations. Others... they find a way to transcend them."

You didn't know what to make of his cryptic statement.

You simply nodded, grateful for his support.

Akaza chuckled, breaking the tension. “You’re too serious,” he teased. “Come on, let’s get you out of here. You look like you could use a break.”

You smiled, and the weight of the world momentarily lifted.

“Alright, let’s go.”

As he helped you up, he studied your face, his expression turning serious again. “You’re doing well,” he said softly. “Like what the doctor told you, you’re way stronger than you think.”

You nodded, grateful for his support. As you walked out of the physical therapy room, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. The road to recovery was indeed long, but you persevered and made incredible progress.

And as long as you have your friends and family, Muzan, and, believe it or not, people like Akaza by your side, you knew you would eventually find your way back.

Several Years Ago at the Winter Olympics 2018

The ice was your stage, a crystalline expanse where you could lose yourself. Muzan, your fiancé, watched from the stands, his eyes filled with adoration. The crowd roared as you took your final bow, the applause a symphony of admiration. You were in your element, a whirlwind of grace and power.

But then disaster struck.

It happened in an instant—a cruel twist of fate.

As you landed a triple lutz, your skate blade, despite multiple quality checks, betrayed you. It snapped, sending you into an uncontrolled spin. Your body, once so graceful, became a helpless projectile. You felt the ice scrape against your skin as you tumbled, the world a blur of pain and fear.

Muzan watched in horror as you fell. Time seemed to freeze as your body crashed into the ice. A sharp intake of breath escaped his lips. His world narrowed down to you, a blur of white on the unforgiving ice.

Fear, cold and sharp, clawed at his insides.

He leaped over the barrier, his movements a blur. Kneeling beside you, he assessed the damage. Your face was pale, and your eyes closed. A deep gash marred your leg, with blood seeping through the fabric of your costume. His hands trembled as he cradled your head. His voice, usually so calm and commanding, was now a frantic whisper.

"Darling, please wake up," he begged, his voice filled with terror.

"Open your eyes, please, Y/N!"

Panic surged through him as he realized the severity of your injury. The once pristine white of his suit was now marred by the crimson stain of your blood, a stark contrast to the pristine white of the ice.

His voice rose, filled with a desperate urgency.

"Someone help! Get an ambulance! Fucking do something, now!" he shouted, his eyes wide with fear and seething anger.

He frantically searched for a button or a lever—anything to call for help. The crowd's noise seemed to muffle, as if he were underwater.

He scooped you up into his arms, your weight heavy in his arms. The crowd's gasps and cries were a distant echo as he carried you off the ice. His mind raced, a whirlwind of fear and desperation. He had to get you help, and he had to get you help now.

In the ambulance, Muzan held you close, his touch a desperate attempt to reassure you and to reassure himself that this too shall pass, but the metallic smell of your blood, your pale skin, and the way your body trembled in his arms filled him with a cold dread, as did the horrific way you would slip in and out of consciousness. 

*

The days that followed were a blur of pain, surgeries, and endless nights in the hospital. You woke up to find yourself encased in a plaster cast, the once lithe body you knew confined to a hospital bed. The news of your injury sent shockwaves through the world, leaving your fans devastated by the abrupt end to your glittering career.

The doctors were blunt in their assessment. Your career as an ice skater was over. The extent of your injuries, combined with the long recovery process, meant that you would never be able to return to the ice. The news was a devastating blow, and it took a long time to come to terms with it.

Muzan was by your side through it all; his unrelenting and passionate support was a constant in your life. He held your hand through the painful procedures, his presence a comforting anchor.

But the emotional turmoil was immense. The loss of your identity as a skater was a profound shock. The physical pain was a constant reminder of what you had lost, but the emotional pain was even more debilitating. You questioned your worth and your identity.

There were even moments when the darkness consumed you, when the thought of ending it all seemed like the only escape.

But despite everything, you managed to hold on and cling to the hope that things would get better.

And frankly speaking, Muzan didn't let you succumb to despair. He did his very best to show his support for you and his faith in you, and with the help of dedicated therapists, you slowly began to rebuild your life.

It was a long and arduous journey, filled with SO many setbacks and triumphs, but you were able to emerge from the shadows stronger and more resilient than ever before.

*

The car ride home was heavy with silence. You stared out the window, lost in thought. The physical therapy session had been grueling, but it was also a stark reminder of what you had lost. A sudden impulse surged through you.

"Akaza, make a detour," you ordered, your voice firm.

Akaza was startled by your sudden demand. “Where to?” he asked, his voice laced with caution.

“The ice rink,” you replied, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Akaza hesitated, his mind racing. He knew better than anyone the risks involved. The doctor's warnings echoed in his mind. Yet, he couldn't ignore the determination in your eyes. 

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "The doctor said..."

You cut him off. 

"I know, Akaza. And I don't care, so please."

He sighed. He knew arguing with you was futile. With a heavy heart, he turned the steering wheel.

The ice rink was eerily quiet.

The once-vibrant atmosphere was replaced by an eerie stillness. You slipped into your skates, a familiar weight returning to your feet. As you stepped onto the ice, a wave of nostalgia washed over you.

It was here that you had spent countless hours honing your craft, dreaming of standing on the Olympic podium.

Akaza watched from the sidelines, his heart pounding in his chest. He was a mixture of worry and admiration. You were a force of nature, but he couldn’t shake the fear that lurked in the back of his mind.

You began to glide, your movements tentative at first. But as you gained confidence, your body seemed to remember the familiar motions. You started to hum the melody of your short program, your movements following the rhythm. It was as if you were reliving a distant memory—a ghost of your former self.

Akaza watched in awe as you executed a series of spins and jumps with surprising ease. It was as if the years of physical therapy had erased the trauma of the accident. But as you attempted a particularly challenging move, your body betrayed you. Fear crept in, and your balance faltered.

You landed with a painful thud, your knees buckling.

Tears streamed down your face as the pain shot through your leg. The physical agony was a stark reminder of your limitations, but it was the emotional pain that truly consumed you. The floodgates of memories opened, overwhelming you. The taste of victory, the roar of the crowd, the thrill of competition—all of it came rushing back, only to be replaced by the bitter reality of your present situation.

You curled up into a ball, your body trembling.

Struggling to tune out the pounding of his heart, Akaza hesitated to rush to your side, and when he was about to, Muzan's voice echoed across the empty ice rink, firm yet still laced with concern.

"What do you think you're doing?"

You looked up; pain and confusion were painted on your face. Muzan knelt beside you, his eyes filled with worry.

"I thought I could do it," you whispered, your voice trembling.

Muzan’s expression hardened. "You could've seriously gotten hurt! And you!" Your husband shot Akaza a glare, his temper flaring uncontrollably.

"What were you thinking, letting this happen? Your job is to keep her safe, and you failed miserably! Do you have any idea how irresponsible this was?!"

Akaza bowed in apology, his face pale. "I'm sorry, sir. I did everything I could—"

Before Akaza could finish, Muzan took a step forward, his fist clenched. "Everything you could? Everything you could?! You're supposed to be her bodyguard, not some useless bystander! Do you even care about her safety? Or are you just pretending to do your job?!"

Akaza flinched, taking a step back. "Sir, please, I—"

Muzan raised his hand as if to strike, his face contorted with rage. "Don't you 'sir' me! If anything happens to her, it's on you! Do you understand that? It's on your head, you worthless—"

"Muzan, stop!" you interjected, your voice firm despite the pain.

"Don't blame Akaza. He did the best he could. I was the one who was stubborn."

Muzan paused, his raised hand trembling, before he slowly lowered it, his eyes still burning with anger. He turned back to you, his frustration now mixed with deep concern.

"All those months of therapy, Y/N. All the pain you’ve endured, thrown out the window just like that? What were you thinking?"

You lowered your gaze, feeling a wave of shame wash over you. Muzan’s words cut deep, but you knew he was right.

Upon seeing you shrink when he raised his voice at you, Muzan’s expression softened immediately.

He sighed heavily.

"You do understand where I am coming from right?" he said as gently as he could. "I completely empathize with you, Y/N; and just like you, I also miss you performing on ice, but you can’t ignore the doctor’s orders. You know how fragile your recovery is. What if you got seriously hurt again?"

You looked away, your heart aching.

"I just miss it," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "I thought I should give it a try, then maybe... I could get a feel of it again. Maybe a miracle would happen." You trailed off, unsure of where the thought was leading you.

Muzan’s eyes softened as he watched your tears fall. He reached out, gently lifting your chin so your eyes met his. "Love, I understand the longing; I really do. But we can't rush these things. Your body still needs time to heal."

And then Muzan’s grip tightened around your hand. His voice, stained with pain and frustration.

"Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I saw you lying there on the ice? How many sleepless nights I've endured, haunted by the image of your lifeless body? You risked everything just now—your life, your future, and for what? For a fleeting moment of glory? For old times sake? For a stupid, careless stunt? Do you understand the gravity of your actions?"

Your heart pounded in your chest.

Guilt eating at you by the second.

Muzan rarely raised his voice at you, but when he did, it sent shivers down your spine. At this very moment, you knew he was angry, but you also knew he was speaking from a place of deep love and concern.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling.

Muzan’s expression shifted from frustration to sorrow, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You don't need to apologize, love. I'm just... I can't bear the thought of losing you."

Suddenly, the memory of that dreadful day started playing in his head like a slideshow—the sight of you lying motionless on the ice, the panic in the ambulance, the sleepless nights by your hospital bed. He groaned, his grip on your hand tightening involuntarily as the trauma washed over him again. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the haunting images.

"Seeing you in pain, feeling helpless... it tore me apart," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "I remember every second of that day, and it still feels like a nightmare I can't wake up from."

Drowning in shame and guilt, all you could ever say at that moment was, "I'm sorry."

He opened his eyes and looked at you, his expression softening as he saw the concern in your eyes. "I know, love. But please, let's not do this again." He paused, his gaze unrelenting.

"I know how much skating means to you, and I promise we'll find a way to bring back the joy of skating into your life. But for now, let's focus on healing."

Akaza nodded in agreement. You looked at them both, feeling a mix of disappointment and understanding. "But the doctor said..."

Muzan interrupted gently, "I know what the doctor said, my love. And I respect his opinion. But I won't let that be the final word. We'll explore every option, every specialist, every clinic. We won't stop until we find a way for you to skate again."

Hope flickered in your eyes. "You mean it?"

Muzan nodded resolutely.

"I mean it with all my heart, love. You've dedicated so many years to this already, and I know how much it means to you. But for now, let's focus on healing your body and your spirit. We'll find a way to bring back the joy of skating into your life, I promise. But let's not rush it, okay? Your well-being is my top priority. It should be your priority too."

Eventually, you yielded, but before you could get a word out in response to what your husband just said, tears came falling down your face profusely, and the sight pained both Muzan and Akaza so much.

It was so hard seeing you like this.

Muzan gently pulled you into his arms, his embrace warm and protective. He whispered soothing words into your ear, his voice a calming balm to your frayed nerves. "Shhh, it's okay, my love. Let it all out. I'm here for you."

Akaza, who was standing nearby, looked away, giving you and Muzan a moment of privacy. He clenched his fists, his own emotions—a tumultuous mix of anger at the situation and a deep, abiding concern for you.

Muzan brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender.

"You've been so strong, Y/N. It's okay to feel what you're feeling. It's okay to grieve and to be angry. Feel free to use me as a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen to, or even your personal punching bag when you need to let off steam. I'm here for you, always."

You clung to him, the weight of your emotions finally finding an outlet. The tears seemed endless—a torrent of grief and frustration. Your husband held you tighter, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"We will get through this," he murmured. "One step at a time."

After what felt like an eternity, the tears began to subside, leaving you feeling drained but slightly lighter. Muzan pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. "Feeling better?"

You nodded, unable to find the words to express your gratitude and love for him. Muzan kissed your forehead gently, his lips lingering as if to impart some of his strength to you.

Muzan then took a deep breath and turned to Akaza, his anger still simmering but under control. "Akaza," he began, his voice tight, "I apologize for lashing out at you earlier. My temper got the best of me, and that was uncalled for."

Akaza bowed slightly, his expression unreadable. "No, sir. It's alright. I deserved to be called out like that."

Muzan clenched his jaw, feeling the lingering frustration. He took a moment to calm himself further before continuing. "However, let me be clear. If something like this happens again, there will be consequences. Your primary duty is to ensure her safety. Don't you ever forget that."

Akaza nodded solemnly. "I understand, sir. It won't happen again."

Muzan's gaze softened slightly as he regarded Akaza. "Thank you," then he turned to you again and helped you to your feet. 

"Let's get you home," he said, wrapping an arm around your waist.

*

In the car, the quiet hum of the engine filled the space between you and Muzan. After a few moments of contemplation, you turned to him and broke the silence.

“How did you know I was at the ice rink?”

Akaza cleared his throat, glancing at you through the rearview mirror. “I called him,” he confessed, his eyes avoiding yours.

You turned your gaze to Akaza, surprised by his uncharacteristic admission. "You did?"

He nodded, his expression serious. "Yes, madam. I figured it was better to be safe than sorry. Apologies for taking action without consulting you first."

Understanding the weight of his actions and the potential danger Muzan might have faced because of you, guilt washed over you. You turned back to Muzan, remorse clear in your eyes. “Muzan, I’m so sorry. You must have been very busy today, and I even put you in potential danger by rushing to my aid without Kokushibo with you.”

Muzan shook his head, his expression softening as he reached out to take your hand. “Nothing and no one is more important or more special to me in this world than you, Y/N. I would leave everything behind to ensure you’re safe and well, so don’t ever feel guilty for needing me. Besides, I can’t call myself the president of a nation if I can't protect or be there for the people who are closest to me.”

You felt tears welling up again, but this time, they were tears of gratitude. “Muzan…”

Muzan gently wiped away your tears with his thumb, then pulled you into a warm embrace, his touch tender and reassuring.

The car settled into a comfortable silence once again, and after a few seconds, you glanced at Akaza, who was focused intently on the road.

“Hakuji, thanks again for today.”

“Hakuji?” Muzan asked, confusion lacing his voice. “Who’s Hakuji?”

In the driver’s seat, Akaza froze, his heart skipping a beat. The sudden use of his real name caught him off guard, and he quickly regained his composure, masking his panic with a carefully controlled expression.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, a hint of unease creeping into his voice.

How did you...?

Wait.

Have you perhaps, by any chance, finally–

“That’s me, sir. Hakuji is my real name; Akaza is just a nickname a relative gave me when I was a kid.”

“I see,” Muzan said, his tone shifting to a more measured curiosity. “You refer to yourself as Akaza to everyone? I don’t recall this being disclosed during your application.”

Akaza flashed a sheepish smile, though it did little to hide the tension in his eyes. “Yes, sir. I’ve used Akaza for most of my life, but I’m fine with Hakuji as well.”

Muzan studied Akaza with a penetrating gaze, sensing the subtle shift in the atmosphere.

“Very well,” he said finally, his voice a mix of intrigue and skepticism. 

The drive continued in relative silence, the weight of the recent events settling around the car like a tangible fog. You leaned against Muzan, comforted by his presence, while Akaza focused on the road, his mind racing with the implications of his slip.

When the car finally arrived at your home, Muzan helped you out with a gentle hand, his concern still evident in his eyes. While you were still traveling back, you asked your husband how he got to the ice rink, and apparently he drove there by himself, and because he accompanied you in your car with Akaza, his car was left at the ice rink parking lot. Muzan assured you that he would have Gyokko retrieve it first thing in the morning.

As you walked towards the entrance, you glanced back at Akaza, who had a thoughtful expression on his face.

"You can rest now, Hakuji. Thank you, and I'm sorry too."

Akaza shook his head and smiled gently before bowing. "Don't worry about me, madam. Please rest well."

Muzan took the liberty to officially dismiss Akaza for the night and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his gaze softening. “Let’s get you settled. We’ve had a long day.”

*

Akaza slammed his bedroom door shut, his mind racing. He had been waiting for this moment—a sign, a confirmation. He leaned against the door, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

The adrenaline coursing through his veins was intoxicating.

This was it.

The opportunity he had been waiting for.

A chance to rewrite his destiny and prove his worth.

But he had to be careful and meticulous. One wrong move could jeopardize everything. He took a deep breath, calming his racing heart.

It was time to put his plan into action.

He pulled out a drawer and retrieved a small, leather-bound notebook. It was a relic from his past, a journal filled with cryptic codes and half-formed plans. He opened it to a blank page and began to write. The pen moved swiftly across the paper, his thoughts flowing onto the page.

A plan was forming—a dangerous and intricate one, but it was a plan nonetheless.

-

taglist: @bffrrufr @unadulteratedhandsbanditdreamer @unlikelybananawerewolf

[sorryimananti-romantic]

You always write the most out of the box plots and plot twists like I think I'm getting somewhere and bam! Something else happens that I would have seen coming if I wasn't so dumb 🤭 Thank you for writing actual stories and actual plots for Ateez! I'm sure you could take any of your fics and publish it as its own book. All of them have the potential.

(If you have been charmed by my flattery, might I get a hint of what's next in store? Simply cannot wait.)

-🦄

omgg ahhaha thank you :')) no you're not dumb dw lol it happens! thank you for the love!

i hope i can keep writing actual stories/plots for ateez dfghjkfhg that's honestly the highest compliment i can receive so thank you sooo much <33 this brain isn't running out of plots for my eight gay pirates anytime soon hehe (there is honestly such a lack of actual stories and plots lately in general)

since i have been charmed, but not enough to spill the whole tea (kidding i just don't want to spoil anything imp):

Light (oneshot) ??seonghwa x ??reader (try guessing the trope you'll fail) also i've just started this (5k done) and i just hope i can finish it smoothly it's a tough one ngl

The Leaders (series) mafia au, very political, very plot heavt, kinda dark, slow burn, 80k words done and we're like only barely 40% into it oops (i think now is the time to reveal that it is indeed ot8? since i'm spoiling might drop some sort of a teaser soon once i cross that 50% threshold)

[markrosewater]

I seem to always find lots and lots of discourse about block sets. Two sides of the same argument every time.

Side 1 says something like:"I hate all these random sets, I miss block sets."

To which, Side 2 says; "Well block sets never sold as well at the end, players attention span's are better suited for one and done blocks."

My problem with this response is that it essentially ignores the initial statement. Rather than clarifying what they mean, they assume and answer.

Personally, I miss block sets, but ONLY from a story perspective.

Basically, do sets exactly the same as you're doing now. Draft is better now than blocks were, standard with Foundations sounds fantastic. The only thing I'd like to see is a set of setup, and a set of payoff.

MKM was a set based on a murder mystery with the big twist ending basically included in the release, as an example. It could've benefitted from a real, but delayed, payoff. Set up the consequences for each suspect, then reveal and give different consequences that were hinted at in other ways. Bam. Improved.

The last time we visited New Phyrexia, it was a block, I remember ubiquitous speculation over how the story would wrap up. There were factions events at local game stores, branded posters and packs for the factions at play, etc. I had a friend get the New Phyrexian emblem tattooed on themselves. The story felt *Important* and so much less divorced from magic than it does today.

Usually, in my experience, when someone asks for blocks, they're asking for the story to matter. There are lots of mechanically interesting card games out there, and mechanics are only part of what makes magic, magic!

All I would ask is that writers get the opportunity to do setups and payoffs with magic's evolving story with multiple sers, and that story related sets have *some* play synergies. They don't need to share mechanical themes just to share story themes, but it would be a nice little florish if they had mechanical synchronisets,

Hell, a REALLY good idea (in my opinion) would be to do these sets in a different order than the old method. Modern fantasy novels swap POV characters and follow different stories. Why not set up multiple stories in a row, then start to alternate resolving an older, established plot line, and then starting a new one or swapping to another established one. This really gives players time to get interested and speculate (and making the story FEEL present will likely also boost novels and comics numbers, etc., if you need a monetary reasoning.)

What do you think Mark?

We already do a lot of what you’re asking. Each Magic “year” does have a larger connected story, often with different POV characters.

[daegustae]

champagne problems | jeon jungkook

pairing ; groom!jungkook x wedding planner!reader.  

genre ; smut, angst | one-shot

summary ; the story we won’t tell is my greatest fantasy 

word count ; 4.1k 

chapter warnings ; infidelity, smut (18+), oral (f. receiving), bigdick!jungkook, multiple s3x positions, explicit language, creampie, unprotected s3x (yall know better), slight cockwarming, mentions of illness | plot twist at the end dont k!ll me pls 

a/n ; this was inspired by champagne problems obv AND the apartment we won’t share by niki jhsdjds IDK I WAS JUST LISTENING TO IT AND THEN BAM HERE COMES THIS AU . this is not edited. 

¯¨’*·~-.¸¸,.-~*’ •·.·´¯`·.·• `·.¸¸.·´´¯`··._.· •´`·..íì..·´`• 

“Nothing?” Hobi shakes his head no, pouting as he watches the screen in front of him waiting for a miracle to happen. You look at the letters written on your wall Garam Event Management Studios. It was your dream to have a business like this. An organizer for different types of events. At first, your business was doing exceptional, always fully-booked, never having a free day but better than you’re experiencing right now. Dry and dull. You even had to let go of some of your employees considering that you won’t be able to pay them due to this crisis.

“We won’t last a month” you sigh your head in frustration, thinking about what went wrong in your business. You can’t help but be in denial, this crisis started when your father purposely embarrassed you at that one dinner party, claiming that your business will eventually close down so people shouldn’t bother to get your services. His reason? Because you refused to work at his company where you’ll be the next CEO. To be fair, you were tired of being ordered around and being an office slave.

But humiliating you that night was uncalled for. Especially everything that happened before that confrontation.

“We just have to boost our ads, we used to be in-demand.” used to.

“I’m sorry Hobi, this was because of me.” he frowns, looking at your slump figure on the couch.

“You have nothing to be sorry for” you look at him giving him a pout, suppressing the tears that are threatening to come out.

“Thank you for sticking with me” he nods standing up from his table as he makes his way to you giving you the tightest hug. You are honestly thankful of Hobi, he’s your best friend and out of all people he was the first one to support you with your business, even dropping his corporate job to join you as a full time event coordinator.

“We’ll be fine, it's winter season, who wants a wedding during winter?” you laugh giving him a smack on his head before a ding sound comes out of his computer. You both pull out of the hug looking at each other with wide eyes, scrambling on the couch to stand up and read the letters on his screen.

“We got an appointment” you both scream jumping in excitement.

“We got this” you nod, doing your celebratory handshake before dashing to your own table, ready to contact the services you will need. Hobi focuses on the person who’s making an appointment.

Hobi sighs, you look at him puzzled, reading his face who’s hard to determine at this very moment. You look at him raising your eyebrows as your smile fades. “We got an appointment but it’s your choice if you want it or not.”

“Of course I want it! We can’t choose our customers, we're in a crisis.” you say matter of factly.

“Even if it’s your ex’s wedding?” he says slowly, waiting for your reaction.

“Of course, this is business, nothing personal.” you clear your throat, biting your tongue and proceeding to scroll through your desktop.

“Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure there will be more cus-”

“Hobi, it’s fine. Plus this is good for our business, we’ll get exposure and such.” you give him a reassuring smile. It’s not time to be selfish. It’s been 9 months since that dinner party, you’re pretty sure everyone has moved on from it already, and yet you still remember the atmosphere that day.

“It’s his fiance that booked the appointment, by the way.” fiance you shouldn’t feel bitter hearing that, but somehow there’s a small part of you that aches for the future you planned, aches for him. “She said she chose us because she was a guest to this wedding once, and fell in love with us” Hobi chuckles “And the wedding’s in three days” he adds

“What?” that’s a small amount of time to prepare.

“And she can’t find anyone else to do it because it’s too little time” you sigh you either accept this or you’ll close down this business.

“We have to make this work Hobi, this is our last shot.” you say truthfully he nods looking at you with concern.

“Let's do this yeah?”

-

“Stop fiddling with your pants Hobi” you scold giving him a scowl as you watch him straighten up on his seat. You’re currently in your studio, waiting for your clients to discuss what they want for the wedding.

“I can’t help it, it’s been too long since we last saw him” you nod agreeing, smacking his hands that continue to fiddle with everything he touches.

“Are you the ex?” you whisper-yell wincing as you feel your head throbbing. Hobi looks at you with concern before you shrug him off.

“Funny” you laugh as he rolls his eyes, freezing as the door inside your office opens. Revealing a beautiful woman, and a familiar figure following him. Way too familiar.

“Our couple! Future Mrs. Jeon?” Hobi greets her and nods, giving you both a genuine smile. You stand up from your seat, reaching out to shake her hand in which she excitedly accepts before extending your hand to the man beside her.

“Jungkook” you greet

“y/n” he reaches out for your hand, his warmth engulfing your whole body.

“You know each other?” she gushes

“She was a friend” Jungkook says a friend you nod in agreement. Sitting on the chair and preparing the papers you will need.

“That’s good then! You both can talk about the wedding for tomorrow no? I have to prepare for my dress-fitting and such.” You look at Hobi asking for help in which he understands, changing the subject.

“Let’s talk about that later, okay so here’s the initial plan we prepared for you both based on what we talked about yesterday . You can choose which you prefer, and you can also change anything, just tell us and we’ll continue from there.” they both nod, you can’t help but feel the burning glaze of Jungkook, you look at him, your eyes meeting each other as Hobi proceeds to explain everything.

It’s been so long since you last saw him, nothing changed. He still has the same doe eyes, lip ring, and that mole on his neck. Nothing changed except his heart. You look away, nodding at whatever Hobi’s saying, this is gonna be a long day.

-

“Well we’ll see you on your wedding day?” You tell Hana she nods giving you her bright smile, no wonder he fell in love with her. Her smile is contagious and she seems really kind. You’re happy for both of them.

“Yes! I’m trusting everything to you, for the rest of the plans you can meet up with my husband. I’m really sorry I won’t be there”

“Of course, and no it’s fine. Just rest before your wedding day”

“I’ll see you guys soon” she says excitedly giving you and Hobi a hug, Jungkook waving his hands to the both of you as they walk outside.

You sigh in relief, closing your eyes as you lean your head on the table. Feeling yourself getting drowsy.

“You okay?”

“Mmm just nauseous” 

“I still think you need to tell him the reason you know” you look up at Hobi, frowning at him.

“Doesn’t matter anymore, his wedding is in two days” You stand up kneeling in front of Hobi who has his head low.

“Still it’s unfair” you shake your head laughing lightly, he looks like a child right now 

“Some things are better left unsaid, I’m okay really. And I chose this path, remember?” you can’t help but feel your heart swells, it’s good to know that someone still cares about you.

“I have to talk to our techs, and be on the reception to check the updated stuff tomorrow” you bite your lip, that means it’s just going to be you and Jungkook tomorrow. “Will you be okay alone?”

“Of course! Just business, nothing personal". Clapping your hands feels like you're convincing yourself more than hobi, ruffling Hobi’s hair as you stand up checking the needed items for the wedding so you can present it to Jungkook tomorrow.

-

“And we have this voice message thing booth, where your guests can leave their wishes through this analog phone which is perfect for your wedding theme.” You’re currently at your office as you explain to Jungkook, he listens to you intently, watching in awe as you present him with all the details for his wedding.

“That’s beautiful, you’re good at this” you chuckle with his compliment shaking your head as you list a few things on the paper.

“Thank you, you convinced me to do it” you smile at the memory, you’ve always wanted a job like this, designing and organizing things. At first you were hesitant about it, but when you told Jungkook what you really wanted, he was there to support and encourage you all the way. He even helped you in naming your studio, suggesting Garam which means river. And with a river, you can’t touch the same water twice, it keeps flowing, reminding us that life is fleeting and we should value every second of it. Which by the way is connected with your job, helping every client to remember and enjoy their special day that will pass by eventually. 

“I’m glad you still continue” he states as you look at him in the eyes nodding. “I’m sorry”

“For what” you stand up, compiling all the papers as Jungkook watches you leave your seat.

“My fiance is a huge fan of yours, she really wanted you to be our coordinator” you stop at your tracks looking at Jungkook as you shrug.

“I’m thankful for that Kook, nothing to be sorry for” his heart skips a beat, the nickname you gave him to him before feels like a knife jabbing through his chest. He shouldn’t feel this way.

“I waited for you, you know” you take a deep breath, watching Jungkook make his way to where you are standing.

“I’m sorry” you tell him sincerely “I’m just glad you found what you deserve” he nods taking a step forward, reaching out as he puts his hands on your hips. Leaning your forehead to his.

“What are you doing?” you know this is wrong, but you didn’t fight back, feeling the familiar warmth pulse through your whole body. “We shouldn't” you whisper to his lips.

“We shouldn’t” he repeats before he’s pulling away from you. You watch him clear his throat nodding his head as he makes his way to the door. You didn’t dare to look at him turning your back away from him waiting for the sound of your door opening and closing.

You gasp as you feel your body getting spinned. Before you know it, Jungkook’s lips are on yours. Kissing each other like there’s no tomorrow, pulling away to catch your breath only to put your lips on his again. His lips taste like poison, it burns you. Your hands wander each other’s bodies, exploring and holding each other like there’s no tomorrow. Because there isn’t.

You find yourself on fours on the couch with Jungkook, moaning as you feel him lick your pussy, eating you out with no mercy. “F-fuck”

“Are you still on the pill?” he asks from behind you, you nod watching his dick slap his stomach. “Good”

You feel his length enter inside you, both of you moaning in unison as he penetrates your walls. You clench your jaw at the foreign feeling. It’s been so long since he’s been inside you, you forgot how big and long he is.

“So tight princess, relax” he soothes you by kissing your neck to your shoulders. Tracing your spine as you arch your back. He starts thrusting inside, holding on to your hips for leverage. He feels your walls tighten, as he hits the spot he has always known.

“P-please” you have no idea what you’re begging for, but Jungkook knows you. He pounds inside you leaning his body on yours as you feel his weight on your back, only adding to the pleasure.

“You close?” you cry in pleasure, Jungkook lifts your body as he sits up without pulling out of you, making you put all your weight on his chest.

“Spread your legs” you do as he says, spreading your legs as he continues to thrusts inside you, this position sending you into a frenzy. You can’t help but look down, watching your pussy swallow him deliciously. He growls as you bounce, meeting his hips to get you there.

“I’m cumming” your legs shake as Jungkook repeatedly hits your spot. Putting all your weight on him this time as he massages your breast with his left hand, the other rubbing your pussy. You feel his breath on your shoulder, tilting your head on the side to chase his lips. Your pussy clenches as you feel your orgasm, breathing heavily with Jungkook’s cock still inside you.

“Good girl” he praises, he lays your body on the couch, watching you in your pleasure state, before he’s spreading your legs again. Lining up his length to show you deep he’s gonna be inside you. He spread your remains on his dick, rubbing it before slapping his dick on your sensitive pussy.

You wince making him chuckle. “Take all of me yeah?”

He inserts his throbbing length inside you once again, but this time slower. And intimate. Watching your face turns into pleasure as he brushes the hair on your face with his fingers. He takes his time this time, thrusting inside you slowly, but harder.

You look at his face, rubbing your thumb on his eyebrow as it furrows. You don’t say anything to each other, just feeling each other’s warmth. He kisses your lips delicately, holding your body close to his. You put your arms on his shoulder to his back, nails scratching softly that will be there until tomorrow.

“Almost there” he whispers, you can’t help but bite his shoulder feeling yourself release again. He kisses your forehead, his thrust becoming erratic until he’s cumming inside you. You both quiver with pleasure.He didn’t pull out after that, laying on your body instead. His head on your shoulder as you both breathe heavily.

You gently run your fingers to his hair, you feel him sighs in contentment as you feel your tears flow on your cheek feeling the coldness of his ring on your skin. Even if Jungkook notices your tears, he doesn't say anything, only holding you tighter. You stay just like that, holding and feeling the warmth of each other. Because maybe you both know that this will be the last time you’ll see each other. You both know the consequences and you’ll both suffer from it. Greatly.

You both know this is goodbye.

It isn’t long before you're both putting your  clothes back on, without words. Before you’re clearing your throat. Shame and guilt both eating you alive already. 

“Let’s pretend this didn’t happen”

“Like how you pretended I didn’t propose to you that night?” he says sarcastically, you can feel the bitterness of his words. You stand frozen. Not knowing what to say. Getting a flashback of that night.

“Can you at least tell me the reason? I deserve that”

“It was for all of this, you know that.” the lie sits like a venom on your tongue

“Do you really expect me to believe that?” you’re now both facing each other. His eyes meet your glistening ones.

“I’m not telling you to accept that, but that’s the truth, nothing else.”

“You could’ve just told me you wanted this career so bad, I wouldn’t have made you choose. I would have supported you.” you can feel the pain lacing his voice, and you can’t help but let your tears run down your cheeks.

“I know” you sob, Jungkook wants to hold you, but he stops himself from doing so. 9 months and you’re both still a mess. Maybe this was the closure you needed, but not the closure he wanted. He thinks about all the things you could’ve been if you only told him the truth. He can’t help but be offended, you really thought he won’t support you with what you wanted? All those years together and yet you thought so little of him.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You already did” he pauses, shaking his head, chuckling as he finds himself crying as well “The moment you started thinking I would stop you from chasing your dreams” he adds im sorry im sorry. You know no words will ever heal him from the pain you’ve caused. So you shut your mouth watching him leave before stopping to his tracks. Looking back at you one last time.

“Do you regret it? Leaving me?” he asks genuinely. Jungkook needs to hear it from you, so he can move on and stop living with the what if’s. He needs to hear it so he can wake up tomorrow without doubts about his future.

“No” you say without hesitating, staring at his eyes so you can deliver your point.

“Okay” he nods, shutting the door behind him as you fall down on your knees. Clutching your chest as you feel it aches.

“I’m sorry” the doctor looks at you with pity. You nod not knowing how to react.

“How long do I have?”

“12 months based on the size of tumor in your brain” you look at his eyes, hoping that he would be lying and this is a joke. But his eyes have no hint as such. “There’s a treatment but it’s not guaranteed you will live.” so it’s either you die slowly with the treatment or still die without it, except you’ll live shorter. Which is worse? 

You chuckle weakly, so many thoughts running in your mind, how could this be? Why does it have to be you? What will happen to those who you will leave behind?

Jungkook. If you tell him your illness, he would stay and be there for you. But you can’t let him witness you die slowly and suffer for the rest of his life. It will be too selfish for you to deny him the bright future he deserves. You can’t scar him and leave a painful permanent mark.

You’d rather him hate you than suffer loving you.

That night you and Jungkook were invited to a dinner party, and you were planning on breaking up with him for whatever reason you come up with. The guilt eating you alive as he intertwined his finger with yours. Constantly kissing your temples.

That same night, he was on his knees, asking for your hand around your family, friends and colleagues. You dreamt of this day, and you would have said yes if it weren’t for the news you received that morning. You remember the atmosphere that night, it was heavy. Too heavy that you feel like falling down to your knees. But most of all, you remember the confusion and pain written on Jungkook’s face that night, watching you shake your head and run away from the scene.

That very night, your father talks about the business you were starting. Slandering it so the attention won’t be with the failed proposal but your failure as his daughter who refused to take over the company. Your father did all that to save himself from embarrassment. That very night, you lost the remaining care your father had for you.

That night, you lost your bestfriend, your anchor, the love of your life.

That night, your world crumbled down into pieces.

You look around your office, tracing pictures of past events you had on the wall. You started this career because you wanted it, and you had Jungkook’s support. You still continue to do it because it gives you the comfort to plan for other’s future that you won’t have and experience in this lifetime.

-

“Don’t be nervous, just enjoy this moment.” you tell Hana, patting her on the shoulder as she nods. She’s the most beautiful bride you’ve ever met. The kindest too. She engulfs you into a hug and squeezes your body.

“Thank you for everything.” you can’t help but feel guilty, she trusted you. And you fucked his fiance the day before your wedding. And you know karma has bitten you in the ass once you're 6 ft underground.

“I’m sorry” you whisper sincerely, rubbing her back. As if she would know what you did. she gasps, pulling away from the hug before she’s pinching your sides.

“Everything is beautiful, what are you sorry for.” she giggles. Your conversation has died down when the door opens revealing Hobi in a suit.

“Ladies, we’re about to start” he announces, the bridesmaids stand up, shuffling to their feet as they get out of the room to prepare. “y/n, check on our groom one last time please” you gulp doing as he says. Hobi doesn’t know what happened between you and Jungkook yesterday, and you don’t want him to know. Not today, at least.  

“Let me fix that for you” you tell from the doorway, watching Jungkook jump in surprise as he tries to fix his tie.

“Please” you give each other a small smile, so many words left unsaid. And that’s for the better.

“I love her y/n.” He says suddenly, you stop fixing his tie for a moment, good before continuing your actions.

“I know, don’t worry I won’t tell. We’ll pretend it never happened.” you pat his shoulder, distancing from him.

“I really love her, she’s helped me get back up after everything. I will tell her about what happened last night, someday. I don’t want to lose her, I can’t.” you nod understandingly, knowing he’s telling the truth because he used to talk about you like that before.

“I’m happy for you Jungkook” you tell him honestly, this is what you’ve always wanted. At first, you thought you would feel jealousy and pain when you accepted this event. But now, you only feel happiness for the both of them, not even a small part of you feels bitter about this. Just genuine joy and pure contentment knowing Jungkook’s in good hands.

“Thank you.” You both sniff, laughing as you witness each other be a mess. Crying of joy this time.

“Jungkook you’re ruining your makeup”

“Stop making me cry then.”

“I will.”

- The huge doors open, revealing Jungkook waiting at the altar and for a moment you had a glance of the future that you could have had. You wait for the bride to get to the end of the hall before making your way to Hobi who’s busy ordering the staff.

“Hey”

“Hey, you look pale.”

“I’m sick, remember” you say matter-of-factly. Hobi only scowls at you. “Think you can handle everything else here?”

“Of course, is there something wrong?”

“Just tired” he observes your face, before nodding in understandment. Lately, you’ve been experiencing the symptoms, at first it was gradual but you feel it progress every day. One symptom at time, then all of it sometimes.

“You need help? I can drive you home” you smack his arm scolding him.

“They need an expert to stay here. Thank you Hobi” you both share your handshakes, giggling as you wave goodbye. Making one last stop before leaving, you find yourself in front of the voicemail booth. Picking up the phone with the label groom.

“Hey Kook, um, it’s me y/n” You take a deep breath, suddenly feeling awkward talking on the phone with no one on the other line.

“I just wanna say I’m happy that you found love because you’re a wonderful being, and you deserve nothing but happiness and more. I know you will be a great husband, and a loving father because I learned how to love unconditionally from you and I will always be grateful for that. You asked me before if I regret leaving you. Honestly, I don’t don’t regret any of it. I guess the only regret I have is making you wait longer when you could have had all of this sooner. Thank you for everything and I hope you can forgive me someday.”

Here’s to the future

[skyler1290]

(Beast Ancients AU belongs to @cuppajj )

(Also, if you're reading this, I love your AU so much. You're an amazing person, and I hope you feel good today /gen! If you don't like the AU or feel uncomfortable with it, just comment it. I'll take it down immediately.)

So... a fun fact about me is that I make up way too many ideas for my own good. A bit too many. And I happened to imagine an AU of the Beast Ancients AU, which is basically fanfiction, once you think about it.

So, I remember the creator of the AU stating that there probably wouldn't be any heroes to come after the beasts, so I imagined up an AU of my own where that does happen.

And the heroes are their own children.

Boom boom bam, plot twist /j.

None of them are OCs, by the way. Instead, they're canon cookies I've chosen that would be their children in this AU, but aren't their children in the actual storyline (except Dark Choco).

Yea... I'm making it work. Basically, here's the parents and children:

Frigid Cacao = Dark Choco

Saint Vanilla = Kouign-Amann

Celestial Cheese = Stormbringer (she's a demigoddess in this AU. I'll explain it all if this AU gets @cuppajj 's approval)

Dragonberry = Raspberry

Midnight Lily = Mercurial Knight

So, basically, the witches are basically done with the cookies. They're like: "Oh my gosh. Why is this happening again? We're way too lazy to trap them into a tree like what we did with the last beasts. So instead, let's recruit their mentally ill teenage children to defeat them for us! Let's give them souljams and make them immortal. Seems like a good idea!"

Also, the children will be in their late teens in this AU (they're chronologically adults, but mentally and physically they are teens), it's a long story.

Here are the souljams (by the way, they'd all be two colors, just to press on the fact that these are new souljams and not fragments of old ones anymore. Though, they do connect to the past ones in concept):

Dark Choco = Balance (connects to Truth)

Kouign-Amann = Ambition (connects to Passion)

Stormbringer = Will (connects to Resolution)

Raspberry = Loyalty (connects to Freedom in an opposite like way)

Mercurial Knight = Detachment (connects to Abundance in an opposite like way)

Yes. My brain's a bit crazy. I don't know how I got these ideas, either. I can't tell if they're genuinely good or horrid.

If this AU gets the green light, unfortunately you aren't going to get any art or drawings. This is because I can't draw to save my life. So this AU will have to drive off of pure writing. 😭

But I'm not diving too deep into the AU for now since I want to make sure the creator is ok with this stuff.

P.S. = The old beasts are already defeated, but their powers and souljams are locked away, so the ancients beasts can't use them.

[powerpuffobsession]

I don't like Vaggie getting retconned into an angel

(This one is more of a personal opinion/complaint/vent. I'm just trying to analyze why exactly I dislike this plot change. Viewer discretion is adviced)

When the leaks first said that would happen, I chose to believe it was fake until the very last second. I remember even denying it in my mind when I started watching season 1, hoping that they haven't implemented such a change....

Because the sinner Vaggie premise had so many interesting possibilities - of making her a person, someone interesting on her own, when separated from Charlie

Her sex worker past (meaning the incoming bonding with Angel Dust over shared trauma), her life in El Salvador, her death age that was supposed to be very young (early 20s dead in 2014) contrasting the other hotel residents exept for Niffty (who's from 50s), an interesting dynamic with Charlie where a human sinner gets together with an ancient demon princess - we were promised all of that.

The fandom built plenty of fancontent on the "sinner Vaggie" basis and got used to it. Not many expected an angel Vaggie, and I remember a lot of people saying that would be too obvious and boring and that that wouldn't happen

And in reality, it turned out to be even worse, in my opinion. Now Vaggie is literally one of the faceless Barbie dolls mass produced by Adam. She's so unimportant in-universe, she got broken and thrown away when she was no longer in use. Very symbolic, don't you think?

Her boss, Adam, is objectively more interesting than she is now! By becoming his inferior, Vaggie lost her miniscule interesting features in favour of being outshined by a male character! The one who mistreated her too. So typical... never change since the pilot era

To add salt to the injury, we learned that Vaggie IS in fact, short for Vagina, and that this "charming" name was given her by Adam, the sexist murderous pig! And she kept that name, as if actually liking it! Great!

(Vaggie being short for Vagatha was still unpleasant because Vivzie's dumb humour was obvious through and through, but a lot less offensive than what we actually got)

(And wow thanks a lot for that Vagatha joke with Sir Pentious. Way to mock the viewers by accentuating what was lost)

Also, Vaggie has basically no backstory now - "she was a murderer, then BAM she's not a murderer anymore, and out of nowhere she became a love interest for the main character". And her sparing a child was honestly such a cheap attempt at pulling at the viewer's heartstrings... why did she spend so many years murdering everyone in her way (making her the most effective exorcist, according to Adam himself!) but suddenly decided not to kill a child sinner? Were there no other child sinners before that one? Besides, it's hell, girl! That child could have drove his peer to suicide or killed animals for all we know!

And we are seriously supposed to care about a character who was a boring basic warrior intended for mass murdering just a while ago? Sure, that cliche can actually work with the right portrayal, but not like this! (Personally, I really felt my interest to Vaggie drop when the angel plot twist was revealed, it was like a cold shower)

That leaves Vaggie no choices of showing any personality whatsoever other than clinging to Charlie and having every moment of her life revolve around being with the princess, loving her and helping her. No thoughts, hobbies, world views and goals of her own. Come on, that's so bland!

Vaggie basically just changed one owner to another - from Adam to Charlie, to completely dissolve in their needs and wants instead of devoting some time to her own (which she can't have because she was born as a slave - that is if exorcists are created by Adam)

I feel like I shouldn't complain. I want to believe that if angel Vaggie was given time and space to develop, I'd like her, but really no... the very idea of making her part of Heaven was still-born to begin with, given the nature of hazbin hotel. This cartoon shot itself in the foot with an awful pacing. In the light of that, making Vaggie a significant part of a plotline that had no time to shine was a choice to avoid

And angel Vaggie should have stayed an urban legend in the fandom instead of making it into the show. I feel sad that for me Vaggie was ruined as Hazbin Hotel's aspect I could have enjoyed

I hope she at least gets more interesting interactions with Charlie and other characters in season 2. The ones in season 1 were not so bad, even if they're not the ones I wanted. And I'm still going to love Vaggie out of habit even if she's not the same anymore. Maybe I'll come around and start loving her as an angel eventually 🤞

P.S. why did they change the delicate white colour of her dress and the light pink colour of her bow to bright red shirt and bow? If she's a angel, wouldn't it have made more sense for her to be wearing pallette that has a bit of white in it to make her stand out? Even in that regard a questionable decision was made, dear god...