FINALLY, THE MUCH AWAITED AND PROBABLY MUCH, MUCH NEEDED UPDATE TO THAT NONBINARY COMIC I DID LAST YEAR (last year????? I don’t remember)
I’ve learned a lot since then, and while I have to say the truth is a bitter pill to swallow, it does open my eyes to issues that I previously have not seen nor considered before. Being a cis Muslim woman is already hard enough as it is. But being an afab nonbinary Muslim? Oh boy. If I were to touch on that here I will not have the space to do so, and it’s honestly still something I’m learning about, so I don’t have the resources or knowledge enough to talk about this here.
Yes we still have a lot of things we need to work out on. Yes, I probably will never take my hijab off knowing what kind of things I might end up getting if I did (I could get kicked out of my own house, for one). I realize and understand these are issues faced by nb Muslims like me EVERYWHERE.
But you know what?
In the end only Allah can judge you for who you are. And I highly doubt He cares what you identify with. All I know is that He is Most Merciful and Most Forgiving. So fuck what people tell you. You’re valid, your gender is valid, your beliefs are valid, and you can be both at the same time and still be a good Muslim.
Fuck what everyone says. Be you, do you!
*My ask box & IM is open for any nonbinary Muslim that wants to talk or vent about it to me. You’ll always find a place here with me. I promise.
Hey, all! Amy here
and feel free to skip this, but I noticed a huge thing going around with
fanfiction writers and fanfiction readers.
Kinda throwing arrows at one another over mistakes and how they should
Okay, first off:
stop. Ew. It’s gross.
Y’all are big boys and girls and y’all can act like it. You don’t need to attack each other at the
knees behind the safety of your screens.
are points on both sides. People who
write have a right to be proud of their work and can choose not to accept
criticism. On the other hand, people who
read and absorb the work have the right as well to point out mistakes they
noticed if it’s meant to be helpful.
So how can people interact civilly when it comes to
fanfiction and it’s accompanying critiques?
By following a few internet rules, plain and simple. No, I’m not gonna tell you to forgive and
forget or just roll over and let the other person have their way. That’s not what you do IRL and that’s not
what you do online either. Instead, both
persons have a series of rules to follow in order to try and make the most of
FOR THE WRITERS:
I start with you because you’re the ones who have poured
your heart and soul into this baby. And I get it, I do. When you spend hours and hours slaving over
your baby, going over the idea thousands of times in your head, trying to get
the idea on paper, and trying to make it look good, then oh heck to the yes
it’s your baby and you’re gonna defend it to the death. I expect that and that’s okay. What’s not okay is when it interferes with
your ability to check in with the situation and see if they actually meant
harm, so here are a few rules I’ve started to use over my years of fanfiction
Read the entire comment for content. This is a bitter pill to take, especially if
they sound condescending or snarky. I’ve
run into a few of them, and they’re never pleasant to deal with, but some of
them have good ideas. Try to filter out
the junk of the comment and get to the meat of it all. (I’ll get to what to do if there’s no meat
break from the comment when you get angry.
And chances are that if it’s an unsolicited comment, you’re going to get
angry. This is your baby and you’ve
worked hard on it. If the crtiquer isn’t
at least taking that into account, you may even get furious. Get up and walk away. They do not deserve your wrath.
for yourself if they have a point.
Most critiquers tend to leave their comments because they’re trying to
help in their own (somewhat obnoxious) way.
If they’ve got a point, thank them, but also try to express if the
critique was delivered well. If it was,
tell them so they can help more people.
If not, tell them so they can work on it. IF THEY DO NOT HAVE ANY POINT AT ALL AND ARE
JUST BEING RUDE, get rid of it. They’re
not worth your time.
or toss. This is up to you. If they had content that was actually useful,
then they were being helpful like they were trying to be. If they had content and it wasn’t useful,
it’s up to you what to do. If they had
zero content in their critique or it wasn’t relevant at all, skip it. They’re not worth your time.
I actually formed these rules after an encounter with a
critiquer who was completely neutral in tone, blurted my mistakes for the world
to see, and essentially made me feel like the absolute worst writer in the
world. They weren’t harsh, but their
critique did hurt me, especially because I’d still just been starting out.
The first thing that happened was I got angry. I was livid, furious. Like, how dare they? Couldn’t they just sit back and enjoy the
story? I spent a good week or so
avoiding my fanfiction account just because I was so pissed off. I ended up talking to my mom and she asked me
if they had any points. I think she was
going for “if they don’t, then they’re not worth your time”, but they did.
After that, I went back and tried to see it from their point of view.
Didn’t mean I suddenly wasn’t mad at them. I was mad, but I also realized that they, in
their own roundabout and hurtful (to me, who reads inflection into typed words
and winces at every loud noise and criticism) way, were trying to help me.
I worked on it, and I don’t think they ever commented on
my stuff again, but the people who already loved my stuff? The people who said that my stuff was ‘cute’
or ‘genius’? They loved it all the
more! The critiquer may not have stuck
around, but those who did benefited.
(It really took me a long time to stop being angry at
them. Now I just kind of take a lesson
from them. As a fanfiction writer, and
as a critiquer myself.)
FOR THE CRITIQUER:
I’m saying this as someone who has pretty high standards
for what I read. I look into formatting,
tenses, plot, characterization, spelling, and even comma usage! These little things do actually bug me, and
sometimes enough to the point of wanting to comment, but I’ve been on the other
side of it and remember the frustration and the anger that can come from a
wrongly worded comment, so there are a few rules that I’ve formulated in order
to be the best critiquer I can be and help as many people as possible get as
amazing as they can as a writer!
Note: These rules
are for critiquers who actually do want to help writers get better and improve
the overall quality of internet written works.
If you’re here because of some superiority complex, these rules may be
difficult for you to follow. I, however,
encourage you to do your best and perhaps one day you’ll be a good
way to figure out if the author even wants your critique. One way to do this is to respectfully ask
them. Always open with a positive. Something like “Hey, I liked ___ about your
story, but I noticed something was a bit off.
Can I give you a constructive critique?”
Typically, an author would be happy to know you cared about their
opinion, so this will go either one of two ways. They will either (A) allow the critique and
actually listen to what you have to say or (B) politely decline the offer. This means they have made up their mind and
you are to let it go. The back button is
a wonderful friend at this point.
the sandwich format. This is a tried
and true method for getting people to actually listen. If you start in with the critique, the author
will feel attacked and immediately get defensive. Instead of wondering if you’ve got any point,
they will find ways to contradict you and argue. Instead, open with something you liked about
the story. There was a reason you read
it all to the end, wasn’t there? Mention
that first (AND BE HONEST! NO ONE LIKES
SOMEONE WHO GIVES OUT FALSE COMPLIMENTS), and then get to the critique, or
‘meat’, of your critique. When that’s
done, exit with a thank-you for being willing to listen to your comments. It takes a lot for a creator to listen to
someone point out the flaws in their baby, even if they’re trying to
learn. Remember that you want this to be
a positive interaction, not a demolition derby.
insults or other derogatory comments.
Unless explicitly stated otherwise, the writer is trying their
best. Insulting them makes them less
willing to hear you out, much less accept your comments and get better.
elevating yourself over them. It’s a
no-brainer. You’re not there to school them, you’re there to help them. Helping requires a serving mind, which puts
their needs before your ego.
hound the author. If they listen but
don’t take your comments, you’re not allowed to harass them. Most likely, they don’t see a point in your
comment and have elected to ignore it.
And that’s fine. The point is
that you managed to bring it to their attention once. Maybe they’ll come back to it later, maybe
not. Either way, once your critique is
given, it’s done. Unless they come to
you asking about it, your job is to pack up and vamoose, or simply to sit back
and enjoy watching the rest of the story unfold.
your comments are objective. Like,
if there’s a comma problem, tell them about it.
If there’s verb tenses being messed up, inform them politely. If person A didn’t get with person B, then
you’re not critiquing. That’s a matter
of opinion and doesn’t belong in the critiquing category.
respectful. They’re going on a limb
and listening to you, and it’s the author’s choice whether or not to continue
the correspondence. You don’t have to ‘kiss up to them’ or ‘serve them’, but
you have to make sure you’re not being a jerk and that all your comments are
I know there are a lot of rules, but critiquing is hard, especially with how a lot of people
view them. But you, the critiquer, ARE
NOT EVIL. You’re not the bad guy. You’re not messed up. You’re not ‘sticking your nose where it
doesn’t belong’. You’re human and you’re
trying to be helpful. These are just
tips and tricks on how to go about it the right way and maximize your
The last thing I’ll say is that not everyone will follow
these rules. They will think they’re
stupid or pandering or all-around dumb.
Some people who claim to critique will continue to slander our good name
by acting like holier-than-thou snits.
Some people who write will continue to get outrageously angry for
persons daring to say something went wrong.
Here’s how to deal with them:
computer. Or the website, just for a
bit. Enjoy the sunshine, take a walk,
talk with your best friend, eat some ice cream, go play. See if it just blows over. They don’t get to take away your happiness
because they’re angry.
the hate. When you’re good and
happy, you can delete the hate mail, or maybe grab a friend to laugh at it. But don’t respond to hate with anger. As my good friend Warlord Okeer said, you
shall inflict “the greatest insult an
enemy can suffer. To be ignored.”
chase you down in anger, block them.
This is okay to do. For
fanfiction writers: if they continue to
pester you with their comments after you say ‘no thanks’, block their
tails. For fanfiction critiquers: if they got angry over a critique you gave,
provided that they said okay and provided that you followed the rules of
critiquing, you’re allowed to block them.
You did it right. Don’t even
And then there are the times where we forget to follow
the rules and insult someone on accident.
It happens. If you realize you’re
in the wrong, it’s just one rule.
Apologize. No, you don’t have to grovel for forgiveness,
but understand that your actions may have hurt someone else and react
accordingly. If they won’t take it, at
least make the promise to yourself to be better in the future.
And that’s it. I
know it seems like a lot to swallow, but it all boils down to making sure your
words are respectful, kind, and true.
Tl;dr: MAKE SURE YOUR WORDS ARE RESPECTFUL, KIND, AND TRUE!!
Doctor Who, one episode per-series: S2E08 → The Impossible Planet “That’s the black hole. In the scriptures of the Veltino, this planet’s called Krop Tor. The bitter pill. And the black hole is supposed to be a mighty demon who was tricked into devouring the planet only to spit it out because it was poison. Stars breaking up. Gas clouds. We have whole solar systems being ripped apart above our heads, before falling into that thing. So a bit worse than a storm, then?Just a bit. Just a bit, yeah”
This was requested sometime back. I’m not too thrilled with it, but it wasn’t going to get much better than this. I had something else written, but decided to write about something I had personal experience with instead. Thank you all for your patience and for reading!
blaring horn sound of Shawn’s alarm echoed through the bus, letting me know
that it was seven in the morning. I didn’t move, continuing to stare at the
ceiling of the back room which I had been doing for the past two hours. I was
exhausted, mentally and physically, yet sleep seemed content with skipping over
me the last three nights. It was my first-time visiting Shawn on tour and from
night one, it was a disaster.
had been sick before I’d even arrived. I had a cough that just wouldn’t go away
and it peaked the second day I was here. Shawn took me to Urgent Care without
hesitation as I was wheezing and could hardly breathe. After a chest x-ray, it
was confirmed that I had a mild case of Walking Pneumonia. I was given a
breathing treatment, steroids, antibiotics, an inhaler, and extremely potent
cough syrup and sent on my way.
Fallon Wolfe stood on the back porch of the Seaside Inn. It had been a hell of a day, starting with a phone call from a hunter she used to work with. There was a particularly savage vampire working his way through the east coast. Fallon told Ace what she always told him, to lose her number and never contact her again. Ace had been the only person from her old life who could track her down and he did it by pure accident. She had only ever worked with a handful of hunters and most of them were dead or retired by this point. It had been almost seven years since she quit.
Seven years without monsters trying to kill her. Seven years without skeevy motel rooms, bad diner food. That also meant it had been seven years without her parents. Seven years without Sully. Losing her parents had been horrible, losing Sully had been damn near unbearable. In the beginning, there had been days she didn’t get out of bed. Fallon had known what he thought about himself so she could only imagine what went through his mind when she left. She hadn’t planned on never coming back. She got in her car and she just drove. She drove until she reached the beach. That’s when she discovered the Seaside Inn…and her pregnancy.
Sully not knowing the truth was one of the things that haunted her the most. She knew him, though, she knew that Sully thought he didn’t deserve a happy life. She knew he was wrong but he was the most stubborn man she had ever met he was never going to listen to her. So she tried to live her life ignoring thoughts of Sully the best she could considering Sirius, her six-year-old son had those exact eyes. It was those same eyes that kept her here. She was determined to give him the life she never had the childhood she never got.
That had been the beauty of working at the Inn, it came with a place for them to live as well as room for Sirius to run and play. A beach one side and a meadow on the other. She had worked her way up from a maid to running the Inn. Over the years she had made quite the little life for her and her son with little to no thought to hunting…he. There is the rare occasion where there is the rogue monster showing up in her area, in that case, she does what she needs to do to keep Sirius safe. The rest of the time her mind was occupied with concerns of what the next big event at the Inn was going to bed.
She had just wrapped on a remarkably frenzied day that consisted of a wedding. Her day had started and ended with a crying bride. Sirius loved days like these. He loved being around people and having a good time and she loved seeing the light in his eyes as he ran with the other kids and shoved his face with cake. Fallon leaned against the railing on the porch looking down at the water, watching the waves roll up and crash on the beach. She blew out a breath and pushed all thoughts from Sully.
As she headed inside it was an unusually busy night. Fallon walked out to the lobby and the next thing she knew was being tackled to the ground by an oversized German Sheppard who looked like Scout, the dog she and Sully had. “Scout?” She asked looking up at the dog as it licked her face. Without really registering how or why this dog would be here she hears a voice “Scout! Get down I’m so sorry He’s not normally–” Fallon sat up as soon as she heard his voice. “Sully” She said standing up as quickly as she could her hand still on the dog. “Wh-What are you doing here?” She spat out before she realized what she was saying.
She took a step back and let out a quick breath straightening herself. She looked him over and saw him carrying the same old duffle bag he’s always had and a key in the other. He was staying here. He was staying at her Inn. “I’m sorry it’s not my business” She finally looked him in the eyes “Hi Sully” She was the only thing she could think to say to the love of her life.
A/N: This is a happy birthday present to @avveh who has been my sounding board for literally every one of these fics. She helps come up with general plots (what little plots I have in these smuts), what kinks to throw in, even some of the dirty talk, so of course I owed her a birthday present full of her favorite things.
The entire idea for this smut started between the two of us when the Bangtan Bomb for Sope-me was released. We are possessive smut trashy fangirls and created an entire scenario based on the moment Jungkook got water and looked at something with, what interpreted as, a jealous look. This is the kind of friendship we have. We feed each other’s delusions.
Ladybug noticed something was up about ten minutes into patrol.
Chat was quiet.
It wasn’t exactly as strange as one might think — for all of his dramatic mannerisms and cavalier confidence, Chat wasn’t actually all that loud — but this level of shortness and silence was… unsettling.
She spent another ten minutes staring at him out of the corner of her eye, trying to figure out what it was about him that was raising those alarm bells in her head (the cold economy of his movements? The tightness around his mouth? The way he spent more time staring into space then at anything in particular?) before deciding to stop them on the next rooftop.
Another worrying note: Chat didn’t notice her signalling a halt. Sure, it happened sometimes, but he was usually on the ball about things like that, and in addition to everything else…
She caught his shoulder before he could make the next leap.
To appreciate just how bitter a pill Edward Yang was serving up with Taipei Story, it helps to understand the sarcastic fake-out embedded in the film’s Chinese title. Lifted from a poem by Tang dynasty master Li Bai, Qingmei zhuma translates literally as “Green plum, bamboo horse,” a phrase that, like many classical idioms in the language, distills human experience to a tableau of emblematic objects that can be savored by the mind’s eye. Here the experience being described is one of kismet—an eternal love that evolves out of the carefree games of childhood and preserves its innocence even as the companions age. Seeing these words on a marquee in 1985, the year the film was released, the average Taiwanese viewer would have been primed to expect the kind of escapist melodrama that commercial Chinese-language cinema had excelled at for decades, or at least something in tune with the treacly hit ballads of lead actress (and Yang’s first wife) Tsai Chin. But instead of the pastoral, ever-blooming romance evoked in Li Bai’s lines, what we get is the dry chill of urban malaise.
Some mingyu angst would bc nice like due to being an idol you havent seen him latley and hes all stressed and accidently tells u he doesnt love u anymore hehe can it have a happy ending
“I really like you, and it would be amazing if you wanted to go out with me, Y/N.”
It had been a bit over a year since Mingyu first asked you to date him, his eyes full of hope and a small smile playing on his lips. It felt like it had just happened the day before, and a part of you almost wished it had.
Most of that year had been amazing: he had been so loving, so invested in your relationship and so there that it pained you to be reminded of the present reality, where you were always the one to contact him, got late replies if any, and were able to see him only rarely. It was upsetting, to say the least, yet somehow the memories of how good he could be kept you there, hoping that things would change.
Besides, for those short moments that you were able to see him every now and then, he was, more often than not, much like the Mingyu in your memories: cuddly, sweet and apologetic whenever he felt like he had wronged you, in one way or another.
Although, even that had started to change, and little by little Mingyu started being distant and tense even with you, saying rash things more and more often and apologizing while rubbing his temples and saying that he’s been really stressed lately.
You supposed you were lucky to know the reason behind the change - as a member of a very popular idol group who had a lot of activities, it was only natural for Mingyu to be busy and tired - but it didn’t make it any less of a bitter pill to swallow.
That evening, you had been fortunate enough to schedule a dinner date with Mingyu, which you had been looking forward to for a good while: those, or any kind of dates, were a rarity. When he had arrived at your place, you greeted him with an excited smile and gave him a hug, trying not to mind the fact that his arms didn’t wrap around you like they used to.
“How have you been?” you asked brightly, leading Mingyu to the kitchen, where you had already taken out some food supplies you’d be using to make dinner together. He smiled weakly, and you could hear him sigh.
“Busy and tired,” he mumbled while following you. “We practice around the clock, and it’s starting to take a toll, especially with all the performances added to that.”
“I can imagine,” you said quietly, saddened by the fact that he had to be working so hard, but didn’t mention it. Mingyu didn’t reply as he looked at the ingredients you had set out.
“Are we making steak?” he asked, seeming somewhat disappointed, at which you frowned a little.
“Yeah, I thought you liked it,” you said with a slightly quirked eyebrow and turned to look at Mingyu, who still had a sourish face on.
“Sure, but I’m not really feeling it today…” he trailed off and sighed heavily. “But it’ll do, don’t worry.”
Food had never been an obstacle before, so you felt a bit upset at his words, but tried to shrug the feeling off. After all, you were with Mingyu for the first time in a long time, and you wanted to make the best out of it. …Or try to, at least.
You cooked with an unusual silence over you, considering you normally talked quite a bit, sharing stories about your days and just updating each other in general. And yet now there was none of that, and what made you feel the most anxious was that not once had he asked how you were or what you had been up to.
Far gone were his regular check-ups on you and his interest in you, on many levels.
“Mingyu, is everything okay?” you asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as you possibly could while feeling like you were next to a stranger while he was the person who had gotten closer to you than anyone else, and got back a low, disinterested hum. “You don’t… seem good.”
He let out a sigh. “Like I said, I’m tired. I’m fine. Let’s just get this dinner over and done with.”
Your heart dropped at his words, which he said so harshly that there was not much room for interpretations: he felt like your date was a chore.
Swallowing, you continued chopping the cucumber that your salad was still missing. “…Right.”
The dinner itself was just as disappointing as the cooking, and you found yourself waiting for it to end, even if - or exactly because - it meant you wouldn’t see Mingyu for another few weeks at least. You barely talked, and even your appetite had disappeared on most part: you could hardly finish the small portion of food that you had taken on your plate.
Not much after finishing his food, Mingyu emptied his glass and sighed. “I should get going.”
If the night had gone any differently you would’ve disappointedly asked him ”Already?” yet now you found yourself feeling indifferent as you nodded. “Okay.”
He took his dishes away and moved on to put his jacket and shoes on while you took your own dishes to the sink, some food still on the plate. Afterwards you went to the clothing rack, where he was getting dressed, but didn’t get too close to him.
Before leaving and mumbling, “Goodbye,” he gave you a quick peck on your temple and briefly placed his hand on your lower back.
As the door closed behind him, you let out a shaky sigh, your apartment feeling a lot colder than it actually was. Anxious, frustrated and sad tears welled up in your eyes at the realization that the only physical contact you had gotten from Mingyu after a month of not seeing him were a quick peck on your temple and his hand on your back for two seconds.
Were you even dating anymore?
The next time you were ’fortunate’ enough to see Mingyu, the tension between the two of you could’ve been cut with a knife. He was visibly tired and you knew how busy he was, but none of it excused the way he had treated you, whether it was via text messages or in person.
That day, you visited him at the dorm, invited by him, yet you were met with barely anything more than a cold shoulder.
“Hi,” Mingyu said when he saw you at the door to his room, and you stared at him.
“That’s all?” you asked, taking slow steps towards him while he sat by the desk in the room. You took a seat on the bed you could somewhat remember belonging to Jihoon, and fiddled with the hem of your shirt. You felt so anxious you might as well have thrown up, but were somewhat able to keep your composure. After all, it had to be done. “Mingyu… I want to be honest with you.”
“What’s on your mind?” he asked with a sigh and turned to look at you. You clenched your teeth, then clicked your tongue before finally speaking up again.
“I don’t know what’s happening, but I really feel like… you know, if you loved me, you’d put more of an effort into this relationship of ours, or what’s left of it,” you said, articulating each word as well as you could while trying to will your body not to shake so awfully, which was rather futile.
Mingyu blinked. “Exactly.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “What does tha–”
“If I loved you,” he said blankly, as though slamming the ugly truth straight into your face.
And just like that, you felt your heart drop, your stomach turn, air leave your lungs, your vision blur with tears…
Something along the lines of the beginning of a heartbreak.
“That’s it,” you said, your voice now shaky and giving away the emotional turmoil you were in, and stood up. Even your legs felt shaky as you walked to the door. “After everything… I’m done.”
It wasn’t until you had slammed the door shut behind yourself that Mingyu started realizing just what had happened, but by the time he had left the bedroom, you were already gone from the dorm. Some of the members had come out from wherever they had been, and having witnessed your rather emotional storming out, were now staring at Mingyu disapprovingly.
“What did you do?” Minghao asked with a pout, his eyebrows in a frown.
Mingyu ran his fingers through his hair and sighed exasperatedly. “Something really stupid.”
“No kidding,” Seungkwan mumbled in dismay and shook his head. Some of the others mumbled something in agreement, and in the end Mingyu groaned and locked himself up in his bedroom.
How had things ended up like that?
You hated going back home, because for most of the journey, there were tears streaming down your cheeks, which attracted way more attention than you wanted on yourself in that moment.
You felt sick to your stomach, your heart was aching, you were cold and shaky, and most annoyingly, your mind wouldn’t stop replaying some of the best memories you had of your relationship with Mingyu.
All of the times he had smiled at you while hugging you, or cuddled you peacefully, or teased you and said he loved you right after, or leaned down to press the softest of kisses to your lips…
“I hate him,” you said through your tears when you locked the door to your apartment behind yourself and threw your bag and jacket to the floor, not caring where they ended up, and toed your shoes off.
Almost blindly, you went to your bed, got under the blankets and grabbed the extra pillow you had lying around, hugging it tight to your chest.
It didn’t stop the ache nor did it make you feel particularly better, but it did give you the tiniest sense of comfort.
Some time later, you heard your phone ring, and upon checking it, saw that it was Mingyu.
Wincing, you declined his call and turned your phone off before returning to hugging your pillow, which you still held close to yourself when you fell asleep around half an hour later, your tears having stained your cheeks and your eyes annoyingly puffy already.
The last thought before you drifted off to sleep was that you should’ve known it wouldn’t be easy to date an idol.
You should’ve known that you were bound to get hurt.
Days rolled by one by one, and with you having blocked Mingyu in just about every platform you could think of, you were slowly starting to feel a bit more at ease.
You still winced whenever there was something that reminded you of him - which was awfully many things, really - but at least you didn’t have to witness his attempts of contacting you, and finally it felt like a good thing that he was too busy to drop by.
During the first few days, you collected most of his things that had in one way or another ended up at your place, into a box. It wasn’t that many things, really: mostly some pieces of clothing or jewelry, some CDs or scents, among everything else.
It was more and more frequently that you found yourself looking out of the window and getting lost in your thoughts, the main one revolving around how much it hurt to hear someone you had loved for so long suddenly say “If I loved you”.
You couldn’t help but wonder when the feeling had first died.
Whether it was because you were drained from energy or because the ringing of your doorbell brought you back to reality from one of such journeys to your thoughts, you completely forgot about the possibility of the visitor being someone you didn’t want to see as you went to the door.
And indeed, as soon as you opened the door, you were met with Mingyu, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and looking almost as horrendous as you were.
“Y/N, I want to ta–”
The sight had made your heart skip a beat, and definitely not in a good way, and suddenly you went from feeling nice and calm to full blown anxiety as you shut the door.
“Go away,” you said through the door, holding your hands against the wood as if you were trying to prevent Mingyu from opening it, despite the door being locked already.
“I’m sorry,” Mingyu said, and it hurt you more than you wanted it to when you heard him sniffle. “I’ve been so stupid and I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have–”
“That’s right,” you said through your own tears, sniffling as you wiped your eyes with your sleeves. “You shouldn’t have said anything, you shouldn’t have treated me so badly, you shouldn’t have–”
“Been such a lousy boyfriend, I know,” he continued your sentence, and you hummed in a reply, sniffling. Mingyu sighed shakily, looking at the flowers he was holding. “I got you your favorite flowers, Y/N. I know how much you like them. Even if you don’t want to talk with me, please accept them.”
Your heart beat fast in your chest as you processed his words, thinking about all the possible outcomes of whatever you chose to do next, and eventually you found yourself opening the door, although very slowly.
“…Come in, I’ll listen, but only for as long as I’m comfortable with. I’ve got some of your stuff to give you anyway,” you said quietly, looking at Mingyu’s feet instead of his face. He nodded and waited for you to move away from the doorway until he took slow steps into your apartment.
In silence, you went to sit on your couch, and a bit awkwardly, Mingyu brought the flowers closer to you. “So… these are for you.”
“Thanks,” you mumbled and looked at the flowers, cursing the fact that they were the very same ones he had somehow managed to give you on your first date as tears welled up in your eyes again, and you had to wipe them away.
Without much consideration, Mingyu got an arm around you and pulled you close, placing his lips to the top of your head.
And as much as you wanted to stay strong and pull away, it was an undeniable fact that Mingyu’s arms were one of your absolute favorite places to be, and in that moment that was right where you needed to be.
“I love you,” Mingyu whispered, and you could feel his tears fall onto your head. “I’m so sorry about everything.”
You nodded and weakly clung onto the sweater he was wearing while holding the flowers on your lap.
“You should be,” you muttered, and slowly lifted your face, tainted with tears, much like Mingyu’s. Your lips quivered and your voice wavered as you spoke. “You broke my heart.”
“I know,” Mingyu said, his lips forming an involuntary pout. “And I’m so sorry.”
You hid your face in his chest for a while, trying to calm down while a surprisingly comfortable silence hung over you.
“If… if you’d let me, I’d like to help you fix it, too,” Mingyu said suddenly, his voice quiet yet still emotional. You bit on your lower lip.
“You can try,” you whispered, sighing. “I’ll let you try.”
“Thank you,” he merely breathed and hugged you close.
You hadn’t forgiven him, no, but you were willing to see how things would play out if you did let him, indeed, try. If it got too much, you could always end it.
But for the time being, you wanted to enjoy the comfort of his embrace, which you had missed more than you could express with words, after months and months of not experiencing it.
“I’ve missed this,” Mingyu noted quietly, his hand stroking your arm soothingly. You hummed. “I’ll make sure that things will change.”
Nodding slowly, you sighed and relaxed against him.
“I’m tired,” you said, and got an amused huff of breath from Mingyu.
“You should sleep. I can go,” he mumbled softly, and blinked in surprise when you shook your head.
“Stay,” you said just as softly, and looked up at him, “I want to be with you for a little more.”
He melted into a warm smile as he nodded and took you to bed, and held your hand while you got comfortable under your blankets and fell asleep in a blink of an eye.
You were surprised to find Mingyu there even when you woke up, but you felt surprisingly serene at the sight. Stroking his hair slowly, you smiled a little when his eyes fluttered open.
“Don’t you have places to be?” you asked quietly, and got back a goofy smile and his hand slowly reaching for your cheek, and when you didn’t pull away, he cupped it gently.
Of course it’s her, was all Chat could think as his months-long search for his fated partner came to an end with a dizzying crash. Of fucking course it was her.
He was starting to suspect divine intervention. Or witchcraft.
Because every single time he thought he was moving on from his hopeless crush, every time he thought he’d finally be able to stop swallowing that bitter pill when she smiled like that at anyone else, finally be able to stop stumbling over his words when she smiled like that at him, every single time…
It ended up being her.
Girl that had him blushing all night at his first masquerade ball? Marinette.
Person he ended up exchanging notes with during his computer class through all of his last year of collége? Marinette.
Super awesome superhero who was protecting Paris actualreal live supervillains like it was a piece of cake while he ran himself ragged trying to catch a few common muggers? It was Marinette.
Falling in love with your best friend was hard.
It was hard and nobody understood.
Especially not said best friend, who was now dangling them both from some conveniently-placed overhang in her yo-yo line, her adorably ferocious glare melting away into shock.
“Adrien?!” Ladybug whisper-hissed, shocked and horrified.
Yep. That was him.
“What are you doing here?” she half screeched, like a pet owner who’d come home to find her house ruined.
Chat could relate.
Not getting over you, obviously, he did not say.
(Fuck his life.)
“Well,” he sighed, letting go of his momentary betrayal and helplessness on the breath, “I was trying to catch a mugger.”
“A mugger,” she repeated flatly.
“I think he got away,” Chat confessed, craning his neck to look at the street below them.
“Adrien…” Ladybug started, and then stopped. “…You know, everyone in Paris thinks you’re some kind of… destructo cat-burglar.”
“I thought you were some destructo cat-burglar.”
He gave her an arch look. “I don’t believe you.”
Ladybug breathed deep, a millimeter away from an exasperated sigh. Then, in a comically robotic voice: “You’re Chat Noir. I can’t believe it.”
He managed to hold onto the look for only a few seconds longer, and then burst into snickers. “Sailor Moon and a meme. Nice.”
“Only because I love you,” she said, easy as breathing, and it took everything in Chat not to catch his breath, to keep laughing like nothing of note had just happened.
Uhhhh. Apparently The Last Jedi is "racist" now because it doesn't feature Finn... Even though the film is clearly called the LAST JEDI not THE LAST EX STORMTROOPER RESISTANT SOLDIER.. People are now removing Kylo from the photo and even hating on Adam Driver simply because of the whole Han Solo thing. They are legit the most bitter people I've ever come across
Yeah, I’ve seen a lot of saltiness over the poster in particular, complete with people putting a box over Kylo’s face and replacing Kylo’s face with Finn’s. It does all get very childish and petty, but at the same time I can understand why some people are upset and disappointed by the apparent lack of Finn. He was a lead of TFA alongside Rey, so I think people are understandably confused by his omission.
I think the poster is really just trying to prepare people for the truth that TLJ is going to be about separate stories. And Rey’s key relationships in TLJ are going to be with Luke and Kylo Ren, not Finn and Poe. It’s a bitter pill to swallow for some, but I think it’s better that they make that clear now instead of stringing people along and acting as if there will be some kind of repeat of the OT trio setup.