#I really don't go here at all but these are great

[hedgehog-moss]

I had a friend over this week and even though the weather wasn't ideal, we decided we were going to go for a long walk in the surrounding woods with all three llamas. Since Pampelune is the uncontested chief, you just need to halter her and her herd follows wherever she goes. Sometimes we emerged from the woods into a pasture and Pampérigouste started galloping like mad (followed by her daughter & her abandonment issues), but then Pampy would object with some firm hums and the other two returned, chastened.

We'd brought a head of cabbage and we gave her a few leaves every time she successfully used her matriarch authority to re-gather our little group around her, even though she'd do it for free, because it's so nice to be able to go on walks with only one haltered llama and watch the younger ones frolic and explore the world as we go. Pampy seemed happy to walk with us at a steadier pace and to trade freedom for cabbage.

We'd initially planned to stay on my side of the torrent, but after meandering downhill for a long time we unexpectedly found an old bridge I didn't know existed, and it looked very inviting, so we crossed. (Ominous chords.) Then we enthusiastically went up hoping we'd see my house from the opposite hill—and we did, here it is :)

And then we went back into the woods, and got lost. Of course. I really think my friend carries some sort of curse because I don't usually get lost in nature but the last time we went on a great hike we also found ourselves completely disoriented in a featureless snowy plain, trying to glimpse the sun behind clouds and debating whether finding the North would help us in any way.

This time we were quicker to admit we were lost, and I said we could either go uphill, and we'd find the road eventually and the nearest milestone would tell us where we are (or we'd reach a farm on the plateau), or go downhill, and we'd find the stream eventually and cross it and then we'd be in a part of the woods I'd recognise. Probably.

Drawback of going uphill: it's technically the wrong direction, so the way home will be that much longer (and night falls at 5pm)

Drawback of going downhill: we'll have to cross the water at some point. Without a bridge. It would take a miracle to find that bridge again, supposing it was a real bridge and not a fae illusion to lead us astray.

After debating for a bit we decided to go downhill, because we were hopeful that we'd find a shallow spot to cross the stream, and also we feared that at nightfall the llamas might just lie down and decide to spend the night right here, in the woods. It's hard to make a llama get up again once she's decided that enough things happened for today.

The question of whether the llamas would accept to cross a mountain stream with us was left undebated—though we did regret having spent our cabbage too lavishly and too soon.

But we followed a rivulet downhill and Pampe crossed it repeatedly, with merry and graceful mountain goat jumps, which made us feel comforted in our decision.

Then we got to a point where the water became visible, and very noisy, and Pampelune started to feel suspicious. She made worried hums and walked more reluctantly and (having squandered our cabbage) we had to cajole her into compliance.

I love that my friend captured the moment when I crouched down and started straight-up lying to my llama.

Poldine was the last one to realise something was afoot, because she is young and trusting.

Once she did, she also became a bit reluctant (she wanted to go uphill again), and more than once my friend had to open her cloak-like coat in order to look like a bat and persuade Poldine that nothing good was happening in that direction.

We found a spot where the water was pretty shallow and decided to cross. The air temperature was maybe 1°c and the water felt like it was minus twelve so my friend wasn't exactly happy about the series of decisions that had led us to this point. I pointed out that last time in that snowy plain there was this piercing relentless evil wind howling in our ears and making unsettling voice-like sounds when it blew through holes in fences (to help her relativise) and she was like, when did this day go from singing walking songs and watching Pampe gambol in pastures to "at least this time we aren't being driven mad by ghostly wind."

I told her that things that go wrong become the most vivid and fun memories in the long term and we debated this postulate for a bit and I felt like I had successfully distracted her from our plight, until she put her foot in the water and said she wished she were in the metro in Paris right now. In Châtelet even. I said "but in two days you'll be in the Paris metro wishing you were here trying to cross a cold mountain stream with three appalled llamas!" and she said yes. Still, the situation is dire when a Parisian says she would rather be in Châtelet.

Pampe actually followed us quite quickly! I'm pointing this out because I'm always talking about how contrary Pampérigouste is, but she was so great about crossing the stream, even humming to her daughter as if to encourage her. I suppose she was telling Poldine that when they make their final escape and become wild llamas they'll probably have to cross mountain streams now and then.

Poldine panicked a bit once everyone was on the other side of the water except her, and although I'd already wrung out my socks I was psychologically preparing myself to cross the ice-cold water again and go get her—but after walking up and down the other bank desperately looking for an invisible bridge, she resentfully crossed.

Then we went uphill again and eventually found our way to my neighbour's pasture! I immediately recognised the old tree in the middle and I was very happy to see it. My friend was holding Pampy and I had climbed ahead to act as a scout, and I cried out to share my discovery feeling like Vasco de Gama. It was snowing just a tiny bit, and getting darker, and I think everyone (including Pirlouit, languishing alone in his pasture) had started to privately wonder if we were going to spend the night in the woods.

One interesting activity we did when we went home was testing the various objects that live on or near my fireplace to see which ones are heavy and stable enough to hang very wet socks. We tried the wistful wooden shepherd, the porcelain fox, the music box shaped like a pile of books, the vase, and found that the only reliable spots in my living-room to dry your socks are under Sherlock Holmes and under Marie-Antoinette so we agreed on a fair sock-drying rotation. The living-room smelled of wet wool (or wet llama) all evening, but we had a glass of champagne to celebrate the fact that we weren't currently trying to fight hypothermia by curling up between two llamas in some frosty meadow, and we felt pleased with our adventure, all things considered.

We realised a bit late that we had been in such a hurry to go home and warm up we'd neglected to reward our hiking companions, so we very bravely put on new socks and went out in the night to look for the llamas with our phone lights and distribute some muesli. Pirlouit was included in the distribution because he definitely would have crossed the stream with us had he been invited (and told his hay was on the other side.) Also we got a kiss from Poldine so I think she replayed the day's events in her head and came to the conclusion that her mother was, somehow, as always, to blame for all this.

[glypt0don]

So, this is quite a rant. You can skip to the bottom, if you want to know my opinion but don't want to read that much... But I worked hard on it and I think it's important, so it would make me very happy if you read through the whole text.

So this fits into something I wanted to post about anyway: a broader theme of why do we frame things as wars? Like, why is it culture war, specifically. First I liked the concept, I thought it described something quite complicated reasonably easily. But I pondered on it a bit more and I think there's more going on.

It's pretty trivial, that most societies went through a huge change over the last half century. It's not just feminism. I could make a whole list of things we as a people took on. Anti-racism and civil rights, religious acceptance, global trade, reinterpreting the meaning of peace, connecting the word through the world-wide web, etc. We ( or, as I am barely an adult and have no idea how to change things for the better, I should say you, or maybe chat) decided it was time for change, so change came. You brought it about.

And I agree. Change WAS and IS necessary. What that change should entail, well, we all have our ideas, right? And they have the ugly tendency to differ from each other. The question then is, how do we coincide our contradictory ideas on society? The answer is both worrying and very important.

To be fair, our race doesn't have a great track record on solving these kinds of issues. I dug into my historical knowledge, since, you know, those who don't learn from it, repeat it... The only thing I can compare to what's happening today would be the Reformation (which probably says a lot about my historical knowledge). That's the only time I know, where societal assumptions were altered so much in such a short time. That time it was specifically about the Catholic church (if you don't know, what I'm talking about, you really should, so Google it), and the result was a series of wars, that ultimately may have wiped out about a fifth of Europes population. The wars were of course led by powerful men, who capitalised on the divide to further their own goals.

As back then, now too, we can't rely on institutions to tame the public. Many media and political identities have a direct interest in polarising society. Because that's what happens. All these contentious issues about gender, class, or foreign policy become dividing lines between folks who are supposed to be parts of the same whole (call it community, state, nation or humanity, depending on how wide you can think). You know, how it works, probably saw it a few times, whatever your interests are. It's literally everywhere! We fight it out with the perceived enemy of the week sometimes, when there is an election, something notable happens, or it's simply Pride Month. Then everyone goes back to their respective corners, where they vehemently agree with themselves. We don't talk a lot, just throw words at each other, like Buggs Bunny, playing tennis with a dynamite.

I should say, this post is a notable and refreshing outlier. Thanks, @trans-androgyne , for starting a discussion for a change!

I know, it's a bit like nuclear armament. You can't just stop, because THEY won't, and then they win, and you can't allow that. It's life and death! And I don't have some magic pill to make it all go right, or believe me, I wouldn't sit here, typing this out at 3 in the morning Central European Time. But let me propose this: don't call it a war! Neither culture war, nor gender war, nor anything like that. Because this isn't a war. Just ask anyone in the middle east! They can tell you, what is war, and THIS IS NOT IT! And also, because it may not be guns and destruction yet, but nothing guarantees, that it stays that way. We already had multiple attempted takeovers of capital buildings since this cursed decade began, because our social reality became so fragmented, that you can't accept the results of a popular election anymore. That should raise alarm bells. I know it does, but it can be much worse! Learn from history, do not repeat it! Hit the Wiki page on the Huguenot war! On the siege of Magdeburg. Or, if that's not your cup of tea, watch Civil War! I genuinely think it's the best movie of the year.

Call it Social Discourse! That sounds much more manageable, doesn't it? Or you can come up with something else, as long as it isn't some warmongering bullshit. And maybe the next time you meet someone with sexist, homophobic, racist, or maybe radical left and anarchistic views (whatever you're opposing), don't attack them with your words! Those aren't weapons. Try to talk to them instead! Try talking about feelings! Listen to theirs, make them understand yours! I say feelings, because you both have those. Try finding a common ground, however small, and build up from there. Like Minecraft Skyblock. It can be hard in a challenging way, instead of making you want to shoot yourself in the head. Remember, you aren't fighting a war. You are having a discourse.

All of it is to say, the world and society are changing, wether you like it or not, and we have to change with it, to survive. That is the simple fact. If you call that change a war, that's just gonna make the whole thing unnecessarily painful for everyone involved.

This was sociopolitical advice from a giant armadillo.

Genuinely, what happened to “feminism is for everyone”?

That’s the feminism I grew up with: encouraging people to recognize that fighting sexism and restrictive gender roles helps folks of every gender. We’d push back on the idea that feminists hate men, pointing to inclusive feminist literature and how many men are feminists.

Now, there are so many people insisting that the solution to patriarchy is to openly hate and ostracize men no matter what. Why? What is the benefit? It’s certainly not effective in fighting oppressive structures to exclude half the population from your cause on the basis of immutable traits. It may feel cathartic to say horrible things about men and try to punish them for your frustrations with patriarchy. But the only actual effect I see is the increasing right-wing radicalization of young men, who are being told that the left hates them for the way they were born and presented with an abundance of proof that it’s true.

Why are we going back to treating men and women as different species? It doesn’t fix things to say “well women are the good gender and men are the bad one” this time. If you sincerely want to dismantle sexism, you’re going to have to unpack and let go of all sex and gender essentialism—even that which considers women inherently pure and men inherently immoral.

[crescenthistory]

hi there love! i hope you're doing well 🤍 if it's okay w/ u, i'd like to request a regulus fic (are we surprised? no-) with an animagus! reader. maybe reggie and reader got into a fight about something and reader's still holding a grudge. they refuse to change out of their cat (or any animal u choose!) form and regulus is trying everything to get them to change back. ending in fluff probably :D

~🍓

i'm quite alright darling, hope the same goes for you<3 this little drabble is written with the same cat!animagus!reader i've written for reggie so far in mind (whiskers, my love) since she's known to be petty...

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: fem!reader, minor fight (lighthearted), embarrassment, you're petty, regulus grovels, black brothers have poor people skills, make-up, background wolfstar and (judgemental) bsf!remus

"How long has she been like this?"

Sirius was eyeing Regulus funnily, seemingly drawn between wanting to laugh at him and wondering if maybe he should comfort him. Remus felt none of the latter sentiments and all of the former.

"Since our last class on Friday," Regulus replied miserably from where his face was buried in his hands, resting atop his knees. "She shifted immediately after."

"So... for over 24 hours," Sirius surmised.

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, based on how Regulus lifted his head from where he was practically bent in half, just to glare at his older brother. "Thanks for doing the maths, Sirius. Not the problem I needed solving, though." Throughout his sentence, his eyes increasingly narrowed at his brother as if his irritation grew with every word.

"No, your problem," Remus volleyed. "Is whatever the hell you've done."

Regulus groaned and buried his face once more.

Across the common room from the trio, a white and grey cat was pettily walking back and forth along whatever furniture it could reach. Its tail was standing up straight, whipping about in annoyance.

Remus poked Regulus in the ribs to get a response. "What'd you do, Baby Black?"

"I may or may not have corrected her in Potions in front of Slughorn, even though she may have been working on gaining his respect all term," Regulus murmured.

The chuckle that escaped Remus was finally one of understanding. "Ah," he said through a smile. "I believe that is what we in the business call a rookie mistake."

Regulus sat up with a jerk, hands moving emotively as he made his case to his brother and brother-in-law, where they were sat on top of each other in a plush chair. "But I've apologised! Profusely, and several times! I don't know what else to do?" The last sentence was voiced as a question, though it was not formulated as one. Perhaps the closest the younger Black brother could get to asking for help.

"Maybe you should give Slughorn a speech about how great she is."

Regulus quirked up at that, eyes zeroing in on Sirius. "You really think that would work?" Remus could have burst out laughing at the lack of sarcasm in the younger boy's voice.

"No," Remus said softly, while chidingly patting Sirius' knee. "Don't listen to him, you lot have the same amount of people skills. Do you know your girlfriend, Regulus?"

"Yes?" Regulus' voice was uncertain, looking between the boys with furrowed brows.

"What usually motivates her to hold a grudge?" Remus prompted then, ever patient.

He was quiet for a minute as he thought. "When she feels wronged. Like when Evan apologised for her 'interpretaion' of what he said instead of for him hurting her feelings, and she disliked him for three years."

Remus nodded solemnly. "And is there a reason she might still feel wronged by you now?"

Regulus' gaze finally fixated on the cat across the room, nodding too as the puzzle pieces slowly assembled in his mind. "I apologised for correcting her... but not embarrassing her. She probably feels like I was lording over her or something."

"Meaning..?" Gods, Remus was really laying it on thick here. The curse of the Black family.

"I should go tell her as much." Regulus nodded and moved to hurry over towards you, swinging around at the last minute to give the two boys an almost-smile. "Uh, thanks Sirius. Remus."

Then he was off.

Sirius turned his face into Remus' cheek. "No idea what he's thanking me for; you did all the talking."

Remus sighed, melting further into his boyfriend. "That's what I've been saying."

Regulus tenderly approached you, sitting down somewhat gingerly in a chair beside the table you were currently parading around. "Hi, amour," he said softly. "Can we talk?"

You just wagged your tail in response, in a fashion Regulus has come to learn means displeasure.

"Please love, I want to give you a proper apology. It would be best to do so face-to-face, no?" He reached his hand out towards you, an open invitation. You stopped for a moment to regard him, but then lightly slapped at his hand to get it out of your face. Regulus decided to take it as a victory that your claws were retracted at the very least – you weren't out for blood.

“Okay,” he said through a breath. “I guess I’ll just… talk to a kitten and look crazy.” Upon your quiet hiss, he amended, “Talk to a cat, sorry. Gods, I’m sputtering today, aren’t I?” That final part you seemed to agree upon at least.

“Amour, I am truly deeply sorry for embarrassing you like that. It was such a little thing, and Slughorn has been so unfair towards you this year. I didn't mean to set you back in your progression with him, though frankly, he is in the wrong there, not you. As am I. For someone who feels like he can go around correcting people, that was quite air-headed of me, yeah? The one person keeping me grounded is you, amour, please would you come back to me? You can give me a proper scolding if you’d like, I can take it.”

Regulus was pouring his heart out, and if he dared to hope, he thought your feline face might have softened. You walked closer to him, seemingly studying his face.

Then, you jumped off the table and ran away.

He sighed heavily, letting his forehead fall down to the table with a light thump. If you were going to keep giving him the furred shoulder, he might just stay here. It was hard work being a tosser who’s missing his girlfriend.

Before he could wallow further in his sorrows, he felt a soft hand be placed on his shoulder. A touch he would recognise anywhere.

His head flew up from the table to look up at you – standing above him, smiling softly and somewhat sheepishly. The hand on his shoulder grew bolder, squeezing, while the other came up to cup the side of his face. Regulus ignored any instinct to cower away and instead happily melted into your touch.

“Hi, baby,” you whispered, and he knew he was mostly forgiven.

Emboldened by this new development, he turned in his seat so that his body faced you, slotting you in between his thighs and letting his hands come to rest heavily at the top of your hip. “Hi amour,” he breathed out, reverent. “Thank you.”

“For what?” you laughed, and he knew you knew what. He indulged you anyway.

“Coming back to me.” His voice was murmured, eyes hooded as he stared up at you. “I miss you when you remain as Whiskers, you know?”

“I do know,” you teased. “That’s kind of the whole point, yeah? Make you think.”

He shook his head and leaned his forehead tentatively against your stomach. “A cruel punishment, but an understandable one. I truly am sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Regulus sighed when your hand migrated to scratch through his hair. “I know, baby. I just wanted to hear you say it. And–” at this point he could hear the blush in your voice “– at some point it just became principle. Too late to back out.”

Laughing against the fabric of your shirt, he moved to rest his chin against you, gazing up at you at an angle that was slightly uncomfortable but definitely worth it. He let a small grin slip. “Stubborn minx,” he whispered.

“Oi!” you chided gently. “You’re in no position to levy such accusations, mister.”

“I can’t imagine loving you more,” he said through a sigh, not even thinking over the words. They were just right, and demanded to be brought up.

If the way your body melted against his was anything to go by, you didn’t mind.

A booming voice cut the moment short. “You two are painfully dramatic,” Sirius yelled from across the room, clearly having paid attention to the whole make-up conversation. “Please never fight again.”

“And that’s coming from Sirius Black,” Remus added solemnly, earning himself an indignant swat from his partner.

“He’s right,” Regulus whispered conspiratorially to you. “I cannot be the most dramatic Black brother, that would be blasphemy.”

“Then I suggest,” you said before giving him a light peck, “you be on your best behaviour from now on.

A grin. “Yes ma’am.”

[grapejuicenharry]

Hello, how is your day going? I don't know if you are actually receiving requests, if not feel free to ignore this. What about you and Harry fighting in the car, maybe you're coming from a date and Harry was really late, the walk home is difficult with him and you start a fight, so she decides to get out of the car and walk home alone.

(English is not my first language so I apologize for any spelling errors that may have been made)

a/n: hello! My day is going well, thank u for asking. And yes, I do receive requests. No need to apologize—your english is great!

warnings: angst with a happy ending (sorry I couldn’t leave them like this!)

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ . ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶. ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

It was 9 p.m., and you had been sitting at this restaurant for the past hour, waiting for Harry. Tonight was supposed to be your date night—something planned since last week. You'd even reminded him this morning, but here you were, alone.

It had been Harry's idea to take you out, to spend time together, to simply enjoy each other's company after weeks of him being swamped with studio work.

When he'd suggested it, you were over the moon, practically giddy at the thought of a night just for the two of you. Just boyfriend and girlfriend. 

You'd dressed up for him in the sheer black dress he loves so much, paired with your black stilettos that accentuated your legs. Minimal make up, save for the bold red lips that added a sensual edge to your look. You’d spent over two hours getting ready, perfecting every detail for tonight. But once again, you sat... disappointed. 

He was late. not just ten or fifteen minutes, but a whole one hour. 

Tears started to gather up in your waterline as the waiter approached your table for the third time, politely asking if you were ready to order. You forced a tight smile, declining him once again, murmuring that you were waiting for your boyfriend. You couldn’t help but feel like the staff was probably laughing behind your back—this poor woman, sitting alone, waiting like a fool. 

Deep down, you knew it wasn’t an emergency or unavoidable crisis keeping Harry away. He’d used the same excuse too many times: Got busy at the studio, forgot to check my phone. Honestly, you were tired at this point of always coming second, but you know your pathetic heart will forgive him the second he starts blubbering out apologizes because you loved him—and you know he loved you, too. 

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

You discretely wiped a stray tear that has rolled down your cheeks as the sound of commotion at the door caught your attention. Your eyes glanced to the entrance, and there he was—Harry, rushing inside, his eyes searching for her. 

The second he spotted you, he knew he’d fucked up. 

Harry strode over to your table, looking down at you with guilt written all over his face. His shoulders sagged as he spoke. 

“Y/N—fuck, I’m sorr—“ 

You stood up immediately, not wanting to hear a word from him. Grabbing your purse from the table, you turned around and walked away. Ignoring him.

Outside, the cold air hit you like a slap, your hair whipping against your face as tears spilled freely down your cold cheeks. You wrapped your coat tighter around yourself, desperate to hold it together. 

“Y/N, please—listen to me.” Harry pleads from behind her, his voice begging. He reached out to touch your arm, but you instinctively stepped back, putting more space between you. 

"Don't,” you muttered, wiping your tears. 

Harry froze, his hand hanging in the air for a second before dropping back. 

His heart breaks looking at your state, your mascara slightly smudged, your nose red because of crying, and your cheeks red with biting cold. You looked so vulnerable, and yet you wouldn’t let him near you. The realization crumbles him from inside. 

“I don’t want to hear anything; I want to go home. Just take me home or I’ll book a cab.” 

You whisper, sniffling, your voice hoarse and shaky. 

Harry’s throat tightened, but he nodded, silently stepping forward to open the car door for you. Without a word, you slid into the passenger seat. You fumbled with your seatbelt and stared outside the window. not glancing a look over him as he starts driving. 

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

The drive home is suffocatingly silent. The air inside felt heavy with tension and unspoken words. The only sounds were the low murmur of the radio and the faint hum of the engine in the background. 

Harry's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep his emotions in check. The tension was evident as his other hand rested idling on his thigh, occasionally rubbing at his jaw in frustration. He wanted so badly to reach for your hand, to rest his palm on your thigh as he'd done countless times before. But he didn't. He couldn't.

It must have been forty minutes or an hour of driving in silence when you spoke, not able to sit in the tension atmosphere anymore. “Are we not going to talk about this?” You snaps.

Harry exhales sharply through his nose, trying to gauge a response: “What do you want me to say, love?" I said I was sorry.” 

Y/N scoffs at his words, her frustration bubbling over. “That’s the problem, Harry. You think an apology fixes everything. It’s not about saying sorry—it’s about not doing it in the first place. You knew how important tonight was for me.” 

Harry’s knuckles turn white on the wheel. “I didn’t get time to check my phone. I was so caught up in the studio—“

“Right, the studio.” Y/N interrupts bitterly, “Always the studio. Always something important than me.” 

The words hang heavy in the air; Harry’s shoulders stiffen. His lips press into a thin line as he pulls the car over the side of the door, and tires crunching against the gravel.

“What are you doing?” You ask, heart pounding.

Harry throws his car into the park and turns to you, his green eyes stormy and dark. “I don’t know what you want from me; I’m doing the best I can.” His voice was low but sharp. 

Your throat tightening at his words, shaking head, “Well, maybe your best isn’t good enough.” You whispers, trying to keep your tears at bay.

His eyes flicker, a flash of vulnerability breaking through his frustration, but you can’t take it back now. The tension feels unbearable. Before you could think, You unbuckles your seatbelt and reaches for the door handle. 

“Where are you going?” Harry asks.

“Home.” Y/N bites out, stepping out of the car. The crisp air waves through your hair, goosebumps rising in your body. “I’ll walk.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he mutters back before opening the side of his door and stepping outside. 

“Ridiculous?” You whirl around, glaring at him. “What’s ridiculous is me sitting there, pretending that I’m not hurt. Whats ridiculous is you acting like this doesn’t matter” 

Harry’s chest heaves as he looks at you, searching for the right thing to say, but it doesn’t come fast enough; you turn around and start walking, your heels clicking against the pavement. 

You hear Harry calling your name, but you don’t turn around, knowing there is nothing for him to say that would make you feel better—nothing. The chill of air whooshes past you as you hug yourself tighter, wrapping your arms around you, and quicken your steps. 

The sound of his boots crunching against the ground, crisp leaves crushing beneath him as he follows you, the sound growing closer and closer, then you hear him say softly. 

“Y/N, please..stop."

Against your better judgement, you stop. You stop in your tracks at his words and turn around. Harry jogs and comes closer to you; this time you let him... wanting to feel him close. His face morphs into something more painful than that clenched jaw like earlier. The lines of frustration are replaced by something softer, something that aches your chest. 

“I get it,” his voice low, laced with hurt. “You’re hurt. And you’re right, I shouldn’t have been late, and I shouldn’t have brushed it off like it didn’t matter. It did; you matter to me.” 

The sincerity in his words cracks your heart walls, the river of tears that you’ve been holding threatening to spill over.

"Harry, it's not just about tonight," you say, your voice trembling. "It's about feeling like I'm always coming second to everything else in your life."

His shoulders drop, and he steps closer, his green eyes fixed on yours. "You're not second, love," he says; the words sound like a plea. "You're the only thing that keeps me going half the time. And I know I've been worse at showing that, but I'll do better. I promise you, I will."

You blink at him, trying to brush away the tears. "You say that, but—"

Before you can finish, his hand gently takes yours. "Look at me," he says softly, and when you do, there's nothing but sincerity written all over his face.

"I'll prove it," he says. "Not just tonight, not just tomorrow—every day. I'll make time. For you. For us. You're the most important thing to me, Y/N. I swear it."

His words sink in, warming the cold that's settled deep in your chest. For a moment, neither of you speaks. 

Then, his thumb brushes over your knuckles, and you realize how much you missed the warmth of his touch; he gently touches them and kisses each of your fingers softly.

"Can I take you home now?" he asks tentatively, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before nodding, the fight in you ebbing away.

"Okay," you whispered.

He lets out a relieved sigh and takes a step closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly. "Thank you," he murmurs into your hair. "I'll make it up to you, love. I promise."

[fireboltposts]

How Stray Kids react to you telling them playfully "I'd trade you for a lifetime supply of chocolates"

A/N : Picture credit goes to the owner.

• You're enjoying a quiet and lazy day off with the Stray Kids member of your choice, happily munching on a chocolate bar and he's silently working next to you . That is until you tell them in a mock serious tone "You know, I'd totally and happily trade you for a lifetime supply of chocolates".

Chris

• He blinks at you in confusion but then pretends to be so hurt.

• "You'd trade me ? Just for some cocoa beans ? Do you know how much effort I put into this relationship ? Are my late night calls, texts, cuddles, kisses not enough for you that you'd trade them for some chocolates ? My worth is so less in front of chocolates".

• And you giggle at his reaction and say "I'm just joking Channie" while messing up his hair a little.

• "I'll let it slide this time but I'll bring you chocolate next time to show you I am irreplaceable", he pouts.

Minho

• He raises an eyebrow at your statement as if to say "yeah like you could live without me".

• "Just so you know, your priorities are all wrong. A chocolate bar won't dance with you or cook for you or even kiss you. Choose wisely dummy".

• And you laugh at his response and he's like "don't even try to explain yourself, I'll be watching you the next time you eat a chocolate and it's going to be a problem if you enjoy it more than you enjoy being with me", he smirks and rolls his eyes.

Changbin

• He can't help but laugh at your weird out-of-the-blue statement.

• "I work out every single day, write love songs for you and even share my food with you and you're telling me I can easily be replaced by some cocoa products ? Wow I have been replaced huh by some mere KitKat. Great great", he says, pretending to be hurt.

• He later holds up a chocolate bar and asks you playfully, "so who's it gonna be, this chocolate or me ?", with an amused smile.

Hyunjin

• Hyunjin, being his dramatic self, would clutch his chest in mock hurt.

• "You'd trade ME for some chocolates ? That too HAPPILY ? Wow I guess I was wrong huh. I thought I was your number one, your soulmate, your one true love but I've been demoted to second place by a mere Ferrero Rocher. Wow just wow, I have no words".

• You'd poke his cheek "aww Jinnie ever the dramatic I love you, buuuut I love chocolate a liiiiitle but more", you say playfully.

• "Maybe I'm dramatic but you brought this on yourself".

• He'd later get you an entire Ferrero Rocher box and will say "Chocolates will never love you the way I do, my love,but here you go".

Han

• He looks up from his laptop and gasps loudly. "Are you serious ? Chocolates really ? That's all it'd take ? I thought I meant more to you than some bar of chocolate".

• You giggle at his response and squish his squirrel-like cute cheeks and tell him that you're just messing with him.

• "No no it's not done. I thought I was special to you but no it's your caramel chocolate that gets your love. I was just writing this love song for you, sitting beside you and getting inspired, but no, wait I'll change it into a diss track for you and your chocolates. It will be on our next album".

Felix

• He had been drafting an email to one of his endorsement offers and at your statement he looks up at you with innocent eyes, momentarily confused, and then pretends to be hurt.

• "What ? I bake you yummy brownies, I bring you snacks and I cuddle with you, but you're saying I'm secondary just because I don't come in a fancy wrapper ?"

• And you smile "innocently" at him and he's like "ok i forgive you this time only because you're cute and that wouldn't actually trade me for chocolate right ?", he asks, pulling you into a hug, setting his laptop aside.

• "Who knows Lixie, who knows ?", you wink.

Seungmin

• He looks up at you with a deadpan expression as he was folding his freshly washed laundry.

• "Chocolate ? That's all ? I guess I'll see myself out then".

• And you're like "I'm joking Minnie" and he raises an eyebrow.

• "No, no. Don’t backtrack now. You’ve made your choice. Enjoy your life with your chocolates while I’m off being amazing somewhere else."

• He later hands you a white chocolate bar and is like "Don't tell me I don't fulfill your wishes, doll".

Jeongin

• He looks up at you, both eyebrows raised, " what did you say ?"

• "You heard me Innie", you smirk.

• "You'd trade me for some chocolates ? Wow, do you hear yourself right now ? Are you out of your mind ? Chocolates ? I thought I was your special person but you've replaced me with a box of Dairy Milk ? Wow Y/N wow, unbelievable. I am so offended right now", he says as he pretend to sulk and shakes his head as you pulling him into a playful hug.

• He later hides your favourite chocolate and when you ask him about it he responds casually, "no more chocolates for you until you admit I'm better", giving you a cheeky grin.

A/ N : Hope you liked it. Do like, comment, reblog and follow if you did. Meanwhile you can find the rest of my masterlist here.

[360degreesasthecrowflies]

100%! - and the other way around!

I wish so much that teachers in my school or any kind of careers advisor would have bluntly sat us kids/teens down and said something like "what kind of lifestyle do you want as an adult? Here are 5 career paths that would facilitate that."

I was a working-class kid. "Follow your dreams" is great advice for those that have a safety net if those first dreams don't end up working out. For kids like me, "here's how to secure a baseline that will give you multiple chances in the future to follow the dreams you later develop" would have been much more valuable advice.

Even to the extent of hammering home "going to college/university is the one time in your adulthood you will be provided with guaranteed funding to train yourself to gain some lasting skills. It would be wise to pick something you have no other path to picking up." A lot of students misuse that opportunity to study something they could just take an informal class in as an adult. Nobody seems to tell prospective students it will cost you the exact same amount whether your degree involves three years of just attending talks and lectures once or twice a week, or whether it's three years of getting the chance to use and gain expertise on expensive specialist high-tech equipment in laboratories and tech specialist workshops, getting access to field leading specialists to shadow and network with and intern for, and having the opportunity to publish, travel, present at conferences and really establish yourself in a field before even graduating.

The next generation really need to be informed of the true ins and outs of further education before asking them to fix in a certain lane, not least because we all benefit from a maximally-skilled population - we might need people with the optimal knowledge possible in the right fields someday.

When you're a kid/teenager everyone expects you to base your career around your passions and interests and that works for a lot of people but it's not the full story. I wish they would also teach students to consider the lifestyle that career would require.

Like... if I had to choose a passion and work a career around it, I would probably work at a zoo or aquarium. But those jobs require a lot of schooling with STEM classes (which I hate) and a lot of early mornings (which make me feel ill) and an obligation to work in person with no flexibility to move (which makes me depressed). So even if I'd enjoy caring for animals all day, it's not a good career path for me.

My current job is travel writing, which is not my passion. I like it, but it's not my passion. But I work a flexible schedule, I can live anywhere, I get a travel stipend, and my team is really chill. So it works for me.

Rather than solely focusing on "What topics do you like?" I think we should ask students "Of the careers that suit your preferred lifestyle, which are the most interesting?"

[gothsoyl]

vampire!rio vidal x reader

✧. ┊ rio has been a vampire for hundreds of years, if not thousands. she has seen nations rise to the top and burn down in search of their own greatness. she has seen the deaths of billions of people, with the blood of millions on her hands. she stopped being surprised by anything, but... then you appeared.

✧. ┊ initially, rio didn't think too much – you were just another victim, just a piece of meat for her. she killed so many young girls that she stopped feeling anything, but there was something strange about you. probably your desire to serve.

✧. ┊ you joined the rio’s household as a maid – her palace was huge, but it was so empty and cold that you felt uneasy at first, and memories of all the horrors that people told in the streets, when it came to the vidal estate, began to pop up in your head.

✧. ┊ you needed money and a roof over your head, so you weren't picky. the manor was gloomy, except for the fireplace in the living room, and the furniture was covered with dust. of the inhabitants of the house, there were only two old women, servants, and an equally old watchman.

✧. ┊ you saw the owner of the estate, rio vidal herself, only after a week of your stay here. she was pale and tired – it seemed a little more and she would collapse from dehydration. you immediately approached her with a desire to help, but instead she pinned you against the wall and clung to your neck with sharp fangs. you wanted to scream, and tears immediately sprang from your eyes, but not a single sound left your lips. you froze, and then completely lost consciousness.

✧. ┊ you woke up in the living room. head was buzzing and body was in pain. you couldn't really move your neck, but you noticed her right away – lady vidal was sitting in a chair opposite you, lazily turning the pages of a book. she no longer looked so painfully pale, and there was a sly smile on her lips.

✧. ┊ “you don't have to get up – I'm going to have a second dinner now,” her voice sounds like honey and you don’t argue. just lay there and stare at her as if fascinated. she's threatening to kill you, so why not try to escape?

“do you rarely eat?” you don't know why you asked, but you've clearly attracted attention to yourself. lady vidal immediately looks at you, and her eyebrows knitted, “I can help.”

“why do I need your help, child?” a logical question. the woman slowly gets up from her chair and takes a few steps towards you, stopping only in front of the sofa on which you’re lying.

“you’re starving. give me a day and I'll find food for you,” your voice sounds even quieter than before, and your neck hurts unpleasantly from any sound.

“and what do you want in return?” bingo. lady vidal is interested, or is having a dialogue with her dinner out of boredom.

“a place to stay”

✧. ┊ you kept your promise – once every couple of days you started bringing a human to the estate, listened for ten minutes as they kicked under the onslaught of rio and entered the room to clean up the mess. you helped kill people, so why didn't it bother you in any way?

✧. ┊ but it also happened that rio invited you to her place, and you didn't hesitate – you gave her a taste of your blood. it still hurt, but rio found a way out. her hands slide over your bare body, her lips press against your neck, and soft moans escape from your mouth. her fingers persistently stroke your crotch before entering inside, pushing the warm walls apart with a squishing sound. and only when your breath catches from the sensations of her finger, which moves so rhythmically inside, she bites your neck. your back arches and you hug her, scratching her back and exposing her neck even more. she growls back, burying her fingers deeper.

✦✧✦✧ it's worth helping with the murders for that ✦✧✦✧

[gem-de-lune]

Vibe Check 11/20

The lights are back on, so here is a feelings read. I did a read for their collective and 4 members who were the most willing. Will do ALL tmw in prep for MAMA LA.

Riize as a collective

Ace of Pentacles + The Moon + 3 of Swords + Knight of Swords

So the general consensus is that as a collective, the members are feeling both determined and fearful/worried of an outcome. Which leads me to believe they are abt to do something drastic?? The Ace with the Moon symbolizes new tangible results, but they do not know what they will be. They have no clue how it will resolve.

This brings anxieties with the 3 of swords and a lot more "paper" aspects at play (could be contracts) but seeing how they are all depicted as being crumbled up aside from the one the knight is writing it seems they will very soon be taking some sort of strategic and 100% intentional action here that will be rather significant in their perspective to their stance. They are very very serious about it but the energy is really really like "we are all in this together"....i think when someone said they are opening up bc they landed in LA that is 100% true. They feel safer?

Sungchan

Ace of Coins + 9 of Wands + 10 of Wands + Ace of Chalices

He is feeling a bit brave? Courageous even? There is a burden here in the 10 of Wands that has been released all of a sudden with the Ace of wands. It's almost a story about having run away from something and now feeling free and renewed. Two Aces here are not a coincidence. Its "new" energy. There is a clear intention to persevere and move past something that was restraining him before.

If I had tondescribe how he is doing he is feeling "fresh" and energetic as if he has prepared for something very well.

Seunghan

The Moon + King of Swords + 6 of Wands

He has taken on quite an active position here due to the King of Swords and the 6 of Wands. The vibe is kinda still his signature "go with the flow" but with very clear intent. Seunghan will probably always bee this way in that he cannot NOT accept an outcome in the end- he won't be that resentful himself either. But he WILL still try his best so long as he has the support and people rallying behind him. With the king here, although the moon clouds his path, he has clearity in his intentions towards his goal which is ultimately the 6 of Wands representing victory. He his climbing towards his desired outcome alongside others at the moment. He is doing his best. He is in very masculine energy atm.

In short, he is feeling very driven and determined, perhaps even anticipating a great outcome or at least a good time along the way trying to get there.

Anton

Justice + The Magician + 4 of Chalices + Knight of Wands

This combination is giving kind of "hero" energy? But what stood out to me here is all the women present. This deck actuall has a lot of women, but the fact that this stood out I think cannot be ignored. There is some kind of collaborative element or "leader" thing going on directed towards a particular female. Perhaps this factor is freshly on Anton's mind or he particularly attributes how he feels to be thanks to this woman. She is older than him but not very old, who is either pulling the strings or helped him come up with an idea here. She is very active in assisting them at this time. Due to this, Anton is feeling like he could absolutely take on the world- like he just became captain America or smth. He isn't willing to settle. He isn't willing to conpromise. He is being a bit abrasive and is confident in his stance and opinions. He also must simply feel that American air of freedom lowkey lmfao.

Overall the vibe is that he has a job to do and he's gonna get it done (oh-weyo-weyo)

Wonbin

8 of Cups + 6 of Coins + The Empress

Don't be weary of the 8 of cups here. It is more symbolizing a fear but at the same time an understanding that things and the approach taken will need to change drastically from what was done previously. The other cards indicate the way things will be changing. Wonbin has always had Empress energy, and I think with the 6 of coins it is indicating some past behavior of letting bygones be bygones in a way? Like just putting on a smile to grin and bear it in a fan setting. I don't think he has settled on his attitude going forward towards SM and certain fans. But i see this in two possible ways- either he will do a complete 180 from his previous gentle persona towards certain audiences, OR, HE will be making some very selfish decisions rooted in his own Empress energy. Meaning the things and people he cares about.

He will make decisions for those things and those things only, rather than the things and choices that burdened him before.

Final Notes:

I'm sure yall know this, but Riize is 7 btw

[coupsiedaisee]

the devil that he is | a companion | c.sc

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader genre: smut, just pwp warnings: kissing, mentions of alcohol, uses of daddy and good girl, oral, unprotected sex, creampie wordcount: 1.8k a/n: because @hannieween demanded it, here it is, a companion piece to pulse. please go and give that a read first if u can, though i don't think its necessary to understand the smut in this lmao (v don't get it in ur head that if u start demanding more ill write more this was an exception!!!!) Im really quite new to smut and not that great so pls let me know what u liked what u didn't like etc etc. uwu ily all, pls enjoy!

You're cuddled into Seungcheol's chest, sitting on his lap, eyes closed as you listen to the steady beat of your boyfriends's heart. He'd pulled the blanket up to cover you fully and was now rubbing soft circles into your waist.

Seungcheol presses a soft kiss on your cheek, smoothing your hair away from your face, "Are you tired baby?"

"No," you murmur.

Seungcheol's fingers pause, "Do you want to have some more fun?"

You look up at him, "Here?" Again?

"No not here, love," he chuckles.

"Then where?" Not that it mattered. Though you couldn't voice it in the open living room, you were feeling extremely unsatisfied from before.

He raises an eyebrow, "Is that a yes?"

"Yes ," you whisper. Anticipation of what he has planned makes your race.

Suddenly, you feel a cool sticky liquid seep onto your legs through the thin blanket. The liquid slides down your ass.

You throw the the blanket off you, "What—"

"Oh shit, sorry!" says Seungcheol. You see him holding an empty Corona bottle upside down , looking less like he was sorry, and more like a cat who caught the canary. He sets the bottle aside an hooks an arm under your legs, lifting you off his lap bridal style.

"Shua, I spilled beer on us and the couch, I'm gonna go grab some of your clothes to change into!" Seungcheol yells behind him as he carries you up the stairs, setting you down when he gets to a door. He opens the door and pushes you through it, locking it behind him once he's through.

There's a queen bed in the middle of the room with a thick grey comforter, and matching grey pillows. A guitar leans against the wall in the corner, a small shelf with a record player and vinyls next to it. Recognition lights your eyes and you whip around smacking Seungcheol in the chest. "Seungcheol!" Smack! "This is Josh's room!"

"Yeah, it is," Seungcheol's got a cheeky glint in his eye.

Your jaw drops and you smack him again, "We are not doing anything in here! I thought you were taking me to the bathroom." A fresh new blush blooms on your cheeks as heat rushes to your face.

"You want me to take you back downstairs to the bathroom?" Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, smirk growing and eyes darkening. He grabs you by the back of you neck, pulling you towards him, and using his other hand to slide up under you skirt to fondle an ass cheek. Your hands stay on his chest as his hot breath fans over your face, "Do you want everyone to hear the beautiful sounds you're about to make when I fuck you?"

You close your eyes and shudder, imagining people's eyes as they follow you and Seungcheol going into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. Imagining Seungcheol bending you over the counter so you can watch him in the mirror as he rails you from behind. The way your loud moans would reverberate off the bathroom walls and echo down the hallways to the living room, kitchen, and game room.

Seungcheol tightens the grip on your ass, "Oh, you do, don't you baby?" His face is so close your noses touch, but he doesn't close the distance between your lips. "You want everyone to hear how filthy you actually are, my shy shy girl." You clench you fingers around the fabric of his polo, and nod the faintest of nods. "I need to hear you baby. Do you or do you not want everyone to hear how drunk you are for Daddy's cock?"

You whine, nodding and grazing your lips against Seungcheol's. He tightens the hold on you neck, holding you back, "Words, babygirl."

"I-I want, you t-to—" You stumble over the words, still too shy to verbalize what you need from your boyfriend.

"We're not going anywhere until you can say it, babygirl," Seungcheol murmurs, moving his hand to cup your jaw.

You swallow before trying again, keeping your voice steady, "I want you to fuck me."

"And," he rubs his thumb back and forth on your cheek.

"And?" You falter, looking into his deep brown eyes.

"And, you know what else." He goads you on.

"A-and," You think . Then, you understand and, your thighs rubs against each other on their own accord, seeking friction. "I want everyone to hear," you whisper.

Seungcheol is unrelentless though, the devil that he is. "Hear what, baby?"

You whine and try to lean over to catch his lips with yours.

"Come on," he takes his hand off your ass to smooth your hair out of your face, using the hand on your jaw to force you to look at him. "Say it and I'll give you exactly what you want." Your eyes glaze over at that.

"I want everyone to he-ar," you voice cracks but you keep on, "how filthy I am for Daddy's cock." You wince at how needy your voice sounds.

Seungcheol presses the sweetest, softest, kiss to your lips and smiles at you, "Good girl. Now, that wasn't so hard baby, was it?"

His hands are warm against your cheek and you shyly shake your head no. He pats your cheek, "Go get on the bed, love."

You go to sit on the end of Joshua's bed, perhaps a little too giddy as the bed bounces a little from your weight. Seungcheol follows close behind, unbuttoning his jeans, not once taking his eyes off of you. "Take your shirt off for me, and your skirt," he says, and you don't hestitate for a second to take them off. Seungcheol mirrors you, pulling his polo over his head and stepping out of jeans, leaving him in just his tight black boxer briefs.

His hard cock strains agaisnt the tight fabric and you wonder if he feels just as needy as you are right now. Unable to decipher the look on Seungcheol's face, you decide it resembles something akin to a lion waiting to pounce on a gazelle. He licks his lips, looking down on your nearly naked body.

"For me?" his voice is gruff. Oh, your lingerie set. You'd almost forgotten about it. Deep red and lacey. Bra barely covering the swell of your breasts and panties already ruined from earlier.

You nod, chewing on your lip before asking in a small voice, "Do you like it?"

Seungcheol groans, running a hand through his hair, muttering, "You're gonna be the death of me."

He brings a hand up to up one of your breasts, thumb running over the top. You shiver in anticipation when his thumb grazes your skin.

It doesn't take even a second before Seungcheol's got you on you back against the bed, attacking your throat with kisses. You'll take that as a yes.

You snake a hand up into his hair, fingers tangling into his soft strands, giving it a tug when he mouths at the sensitive spot right under your jaw.

Seungcheol pushes a hand up under your bra and you let out a breathy moan when he swipes over a pert nipple. Your hips buck up into him, craving friction, and he grinds his clothed hard cock over your clothed cunt.

Seungcheol kisses down your neck, and your chest, lower and lower, until he reaches your soaked panties. He rips them off, tossing them into an unknown corner of the room, and uses his hands to spread your legs apart, holding them down firmly at your thighs.

Your breath hitches when you feel Seungcheol lick a fat, wet stripe up your cunt. But he doesn't give you a chance you even think about it, instead attacking your pussy with his mouth, switching between licking at it and sucking your clit. Your head rolls back in pleasure, and any move to grind against his face is halted by his firm hold on your thighs.

"Seungcheol," you whimper, as he sucks roughly at your clit. You pull on his hair, biting back a moan as pleasure builds within you. You need more.

Seungcheol lifts his head, your arousal dripping down his chin. He looks smug at how much you've come undone on just his tongue alone.

He leans up to kiss you, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth, letting you taste yourself. You moan into his mouth and he ruts agaisnt you. You grind up against him, or at least try to, with his hands still firmly holding you down. "Seungcheol," you whine, "I need you."

Seungcheol groans again, nipping at your bottom lip. He sits up on his knees, still situated between your legs, and pulls out his cock. It's hard and leaking so much pre-cum out its red tip. You nearly drool at the sight.

He rubs his cock against your entrance, letting your arousal smear all over it, and with no preamble, starts to push in.

You gasp at the feeling of his girthy cock slowly stretching you out, "Seungcheol." With one final push, he bottoms out, and god have you never felt so full.

Seungcheol leans down to kiss you and then he starts to move. Slow and languid at first but faster as he starts rocking his hips against yours.

He grunts with every snap of his hips and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand to hide your moans.

"Baby," Seungcheol's breathing hard, but so are you, "Baby, don't cover your mouth, let them hear you." At that, your pussy clenches around Seungcheol's cock, and Seungcheol stalls for a moment, letting out a choked, "Oh my god."

You slip out your own sweet little cry as Seungcheol picks his pace back up, your orgasm starting to build. Seungcheol moves his hand down to your clit and starts rubbing circles on it. "Come for me baby, cum all over Daddy's cock, yeah?"

You let out one final echoing moan as your orgasm comes crashing down around you, Seungcheol following after you with a quick fuck fuck fuck. You whimper from pleasure as you feel Seungcheol fill you up with his cum, the excess leaking out and down your leg onto the bed.

There's a knock on the door, and you both freeze. A moment. And then another knock, this one sounding more hesitant.

"Yeah?" Seungcheol yells, voice raspy.

Another moment, then a pained voice softly floats through the door, Dino, "Um, the guys told me to tell you that we can hear you? And, uh, Shua says to burn the sheets before you come back down?" There's a incomprehensible yell. "Um, actually he says don't come down just—I'm not telling them that!" There's more yelling and Dino sighs, "He would like you two to unkindly jump out the window please."

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO CTRLALTDAISEE I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS, OR REPOSTING OF MY WORKS ON THIS OR ON OTHER WEBSITES

[meazalykov]

let me in

giulia gwinn x anxiety!reader

part one - part two

summary: you try to hide it, but she already knows

warnings: diagnosed anxiety, fear, zoloft mentions, angst, split into two parts because of the word count

the second half starts, and somehow, you manage to push through. you make an assist to sydney. for a fleeting moment, there’s a spark of joy. you’re happy for her, you really are. 

then you start to think that you’ve realized something. the acknowledgment you’re used to isn’t coming. no one is rushing to congratulate you for the assist, like they normally do for anyone else who makes a great play. 

you know it’s not because they don’t care, but your mind betrays you. it starts spinning with doubt, with fear. did they notice the mistake you made earlier? do they think you’re not good enough? why is no one congratulating you?

your heart beats faster now, the panic rising again. you try to push the thoughts aside, to focus on the game, but the fear is too strong. it’s all you can think about. 

then, a familiar voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. pernille is next to you, her arms around you in a tight hug. 

“you did great,” she says, her voice warm and reassuring. 

tuva follows, giving you a pat on the back, and for a brief moment, the fog lifts. you’ve made a mistake, but they don’t hate you. they don’t blame you. they still believe in you.

your heart is still racing, too fast, too loud, pounding against your chest like it's trying to break free. calm down, calm down, you tell yourself, but it doesn’t help. 

nothing helps. it’s like a constant hum of anxiety buzzing in your ears, drowning out everything else.

when the coach calls for the substitution, you barely register it at first. you’re already so deep in your head that the words don't hit until he’s looking directly at you, a hint of concern in his eyes. you blink, startled, as he gives a quick nod towards the sideline. 

linda comes on for you, and you give her a light hug before the coach reaches out to put his hand on your shoulder.

"y/n, rest. you did great. go ahead and sit the last twenty minutes out."

it feels like the earth shifts beneath your feet. the pressure mounting in your chest. as you walk toward the benches , all you can feel is this deep sense of failure. 

I didn’t do well. I wasn’t good enough. that’s why he’s subbing me off. 

your pulse doesn’t slow down as you sit on the bench, your leg bouncing uncontrollably. you try to still it, but your body doesn’t listen. it’s as if the constant movement is the only thing you can do to release the built-up energy inside of you. 

I wasn’t good enough, you repeat, the thoughts relentless, pushing through the cracks in your mind. 

sam kerr sits beside you, and without a word, she leans her head on your shoulder. it’s a small gesture, but it’s enough. the weight of her support, her presence, pulls you out of the storm in your head, if only for a moment. 

“great job love,” you hear her say silently, and you want to believe her, want to feel proud of what you’ve done, but it’s so hard to shake the feeling of not being enough. 

you glance back at the field, watching the play unfold, but your focus isn’t there. your body feels heavy, and your mind is racing. 

I don’t belong here. I can’t even finish a game. I’m not enough for this team. 

the rest of the game moves in a blur as you try to calm your breathing, to remind yourself that it’s okay, that you’re doing your best. 

the anxiety has a grip on you, pulling you deeper. your leg keeps bouncing, faster now, each movement a desperate attempt to release the tension building inside you. it’s exhausting, and the fear is suffocating. 

when the coach comes over after the game, his words are meant to comfort you. 

“y/n, you did great out there. you’re doing everything right. you just needed a break—take it easy.” but they don’t sink in, not right away. you nod and give him a quick smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. 

I didn’t do great, you think. I was subbed out. I couldn’t finish the match.

ten minutes after the ending of the game, you’re surrounded by teammates celebrating the 5-2 victory over arsenal. it should feel like a triumph, and in some ways, it does. 

when you’re talking to lea about the win, lena—still recovering from her ACL injury—suddenly picks you up from behind, lifting you off your feet in an enthusiastic embrace.

“you did so good!!!” she shouts, her voice filled with joy.

for a split second, panic courses through you. you freeze, body rigid, terrified that somehow you’re going to hurt her. you don’t want to be the reason she gets injured again. you pull away quickly, a nervous laugh escaping your lips as you explain, 

“i don’t want to be the reason you get hurt again.”

lena laughs, shaking her head. “you’re so light. you couldn’t hurt me,” she reassures you, and for the first time all day, you feel a little bit lighter. 

the fear begins to lift, and you let out a shaky breath, finally starting to believe that maybe you’re being ridiculous, you’re not as bad as your anxiety makes you think.

lea picks you up next, and for a fleeting moment, you feel the weight of your worries start to fade. the team loves you. they don’t hate you. they’re not disappointed in you. you are enough.

later that night, when you and giulia arrive home, the house feels different. quieter. more intimate. the adrenaline of the match still buzzes in your veins, but now you’re alone with giulia. 

she sits next to you on the couch, her strong arms around you as you both begin to unwind. you talk about the game. your assist, the plays you both loved from giuli, the moments that didn’t go as planned. 

then giulia’s tone shifts. she’s quieter now, her hand resting on your knee as she watches you carefully.

“how’s therapy going?” she asks, her voice gentle but probing.

the question catches you off guard, and suddenly, you’re paralyzed with fear. you’ve been hiding the truth from her for so long. the medication. the diagnosis. the fact that things haven’t gotten better, despite what you’ve been telling everyone, including her. your chest tightens as the words struggle to leave your mouth. 

(throwback) you sit in the small, sterile office at bayern’s campus, your fingers anxiously tapping against the arms of the chair. the white walls seem to close in on you as you try to focus on the woman sitting across from you. 

the psychiatrist. 

she’s kind and patient, but everything about this situation feels foreign and uncomfortable. you’re not used to talking about your feelings. you’ve spent your whole life pushing them down, burying them behind a smile, behind the constant drive to be better, to be strong. 

today, everything feels too much. too heavy.

“y/n, you’ve been dealing with a lot of pressure lately,” she says, her voice soft but steady. 

“and it’s okay to admit that you’re struggling with it. it’s more common than you might think.”

you want to argue. i’m fine, you want to say. i don’t need help. however, the words stick in your throat. you can’t lie, not anymore. not when it feels like your entire body is suffocating under the weight of everything. 

you nod, even though a part of you still wants to shut it all down. it’s too much now. the fear. the racing thoughts. the panic attacks. it’s been months, and it’s only getting worse. so you listen as the psychiatrist continues, explaining how anxiety can feel like an endless cycle that’s hard to escape, how sometimes your mind just needs help. 

medication, she suggests, can ease the constant tension, help you regain some control. 

she mentions zoloft, a small pill to take each morning. at first, the idea of it makes you cringe. medication? you’ve never been the type to rely on pills, but deep down, you know something has to change. 

you’re tired of feeling like your chest is going to explode every time you step onto the pitch. tired of the constant weight of guilt and fear that follows you everywhere.

“it might take some time to work,” she says, as if reading your mind. “it can help. we can monitor it together with the rest of the doctors here.”

you nod again, though it feels like a distant part of you is screaming to stop. you don’t want to admit that something’s wrong, that you’re not strong enough to handle it all. but here you are, agreeing to try something new, agreeing to take that pill. 

you want to believe it’ll work, but you’re also afraid it won’t. if it doesn’t, what will that say about you?

the psychiatrist hands you the prescription, and you take it, your hands shaking slightly. the weight of the small bottle feels overwhelming, like it holds all your fears inside. this is it, you think. this is the fix. this is how it’s going to get better. the thought doesn’t make you feel better. it only makes the weight heavier. what if it doesn’t work?

that night, when you get home, you find yourself standing in front of the dresser, staring at the small, nondescript bottle in your hand. 

you want to hide it. you don’t want anyone—especially giulia—to know. you can’t let her see this side of you, not when you’ve worked so hard to keep up the facade. 

without thinking, you open the drawer of your underwear dresser. it feels like the safest place, the one place where no one would look. you tuck the bottle inside, burying it underneath your things, as if hiding it will somehow make it less real. less of a reflection of what’s wrong with you.

the next morning, you take the pill as if it’s just another routine. but the guilt hangs over you, a shadow that doesn’t leave. 

you try not to think about it, but the more you take the pill each day, the worse it feels. it doesn’t help. it doesn’t change anything.you think that you’re still broken. it only makes you feel like you’re drifting farther away from yourself like you’re numbing your emotions, but not in a good way. 

it’s like you’re fading into someone else’s skin, and you don’t know how to stop it.

you feel like you’re suffocating in your own mind, and you don’t know how to explain it to giulia. 

what if she thinks I’m not good enough for her? what if she sees me as weak? she’s always been your anchor, the one person you never want to disappoint, but telling her about this... it feels like the ultimate failure.

and so, you keep it to yourself. the pill bottle stays hidden, tucked away in that drawer. the anxious thoughts continue to spiral, unchecked, but you don’t want anyone to know. not even giulia. not even her.

back to the present– giulia’s quiet, but you can feel the weight of her gaze on you. she’s waiting, and you know she’s already figured out that something’s wrong. it’s been weeks, and the cracks in your facade are starting to show.

“therapy has been fine.” you smile, pulling a loose piece of blonde hair behind giulia’s ear. her hair wasn’t in her signature ponytail braid from the game, but in loose curls over her shoulders that the braid gave her. 

you try to focus on something, anything—anything to avoid her eyes—but it’s useless. your hands are shaking, and every thought feels like it’s running away from you. the anxiety from the match still lingers in your chest, but now it’s compounded by guilt. 

guilt for not telling her sooner. guilt for hiding the truth. you feel trapped in your own head, like you’re suffocating under the weight of your own emotions.

giulia watches you carefully, her brow furrowed. she doesn’t need to ask anymore. she knows. and that’s what scares you most.

“y/n,” giulia finally says, her voice calm but firm. 

“you know we need to talk, right?”

you swallow hard. your throat feels tight, the words stuck there. you try to smile, but it feels forced, like it won’t reach your eyes. 

“about what?”

she leans forward, elbows resting on her knees, eyes never leaving yours. 

“about you. about everything you’ve been hiding.”

the words hit like a punch to the stomach, and you flinch. hiding—the word stings. because it’s true. you’ve been hiding everything. everything that’s been eating at you for months now. 

the anxiety, the fear, the constant worry that you’re not good enough—that you’ll fail again and let everyone down. especially her. the person who’s always had your back for the last five years. the person who’s seen you at your best, at your worst, and still loved you unconditionally. 

now, you’re afraid to admit that you’ve been struggling.

“giulia, I don’t—” you begin, but she interrupts, her tone sharper now, like she’s not going to let you brush it off again.

“don’t, y/n. don’t shut me out again!” giulia’s voice is soft but serious, and her eyes search yours with a piercing intensity. 

“i’ve seen the way you’ve been. I’ve seen how you’ve been withdrawing, how you’re not talking to me or anyone else about it. I know you’re not okay. I know you’re not just tired or stressed from the game. this is something else. I want to help.”

you feel your chest tighten at her words. you want to tell her everything, want to explain what’s been going on inside your head, but the fear grips you tight. 

what if she thinks you’re weak? what if she thinks she can’t handle this part of you? what if she doesn’t understand? you thought.

giulia’s expression softens, her tone gentler now, but she doesn’t back down. 

“y/n, I know you better than anyone. and I can see it. I know what’s been going on. I know you’re struggling with anxiety. and I know you’ve been taking medication for it. you don’t have to hide it from me anymore.”

the room goes quiet. your heart skips a beat, and the blood rushes to your ears. 

how does she know? you didn’t tell her. you didn’t want to burden her with it, didn’t want her to look at you differently. 

somehow, giulia knows. she’s known all along.

“giulia, I—” you start, but she cuts you off, her voice gentle but firm.

“why didn’t you tell me, y/n?” giulia asks, her voice laced with a mix of concern and hurt. 

“why didn’t you come to me? why have you been hiding this from me?”

the words hit you like a slap, and you blink back the tears that threaten to fall. 

“i didn’t want you to think I was... weak,” you admit, your voice trembling.

 i didn’t want you to think I was... broken.”

giulia leans in, her hand reaching for yours, gently taking it in hers. her grip is steady, warm, and you feel a little bit of the weight on your chest lift. 

“y/n, you’re not broken,” she says softly. 

“you’re human. and being human means you have struggles. you have fears, and you have moments where you need help. that doesn’t make you weak. it makes you real. I’m not going anywhere. I want to help you, but you have to let me in.”

you feel the tears that you’ve been holding back finally spill over, hot and unrelenting. the sobs wrack your body as giulia pulls you into her arms, holding you close. you’ve been so terrified of letting her see you like this—vulnerable, broken, messy. 

you realize that she’s not looking at you with disappointment. she’s not seeing your anxiety as a flaw or a weakness. she’s seeing you. all of you.

“i’m sorry,” you choke out, your voice muffled against her shoulder. 

“i didn’t mean to shut you out. i thought... i thought you’d think i wasn’t strong enough to be your partner anymore.”

giulia shakes her head, her fingers soothing through your hair. 

“y/n, I never thought that. I never would. I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be you. and right now, that means letting me be here for you.”

“we’ll get through this together, okay?” giulia whispers into your hair, her voice filled with unwavering support. 

“you don’t have to face this alone.”

you nod against her, the sobs slowing, the tightness in your chest loosening. for the first time in months, you finally feel like you can breathe.

the morning light filters through the curtains, casting soft beams across the bedroom. the air is calm, the silence between you and giulia comfortable for once, free of the tension you’ve been carrying for weeks. luckily, you guys have the day off from anything football related so you can stay in bed for longer. 

you sit on the edge of the bed, your fingers still trembling slightly, but you’re more at ease than you’ve been in a long time. last night, you opened up to her in ways you didn’t think you could. and though your heart had pounded in your chest and the fear of being judged had nearly consumed you, giulia hadn’t wavered. 

you glance over at her, the way she’s lounging on the bed, her legs propped up under the covers, her eyes half-lidded as she smiles faintly in your direction. 

the bottle of zoloft sits on the nightstand, so small, so innocent-looking. it feels heavier than it should, but the weight is different now. 

it’s no longer just a symbol of everything that’s wrong with you. it’s a step forward. and you’re ready to take it. 

without hesitation, you pick up the bottle, twisting the cap off, feeling giulia’s gaze on you. her eyes are soft, not judgmental, just... waiting. you feel a small sense of reassurance, as if her presence alone is all you need. 

there’s no longer that nagging voice telling you to hide, to keep it to yourself. you can’t change your past, but you can change how you move forward, and you want to move forward, especially with giu. 

you take the pill, the cool surface of the tablet smooth in your fingers, and swallow it down with a sip of water. it’s such a small act, but it feels monumental.

“good morning,” giulia says, her voice light, laced with affection. her eyes soften, and she shifts slightly to make space for you on the bed. 

you settle down next to her, the pillow cool against your skin, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. giulia’s hand brushes your waist, and you lace your fingers around hers. 

“i’m proud of you, you know,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. she turns her head to look at you, her eyes warm, filled with love. there’s no judgment, just acceptance. 

you nod, trying not to let the lump in your throat get the best of you. it’s hard to believe sometimes, that she’s always going to be there, in moments like these, it feels real. it feels like you can finally breathe.

“thank you,” you reply softly, feeling a quiet sense of peace settle over you. 

“for being patient. for being so loving my love.”

giulia smiles, the softest smile you’ve ever seen. 

“you’re perfect just the way you are.” 

she brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, her touch gentle. 

life is not easy, and you’re not perfect. you don’t have to be. you have giulia, and that’s enough.

baby steps. it’s enough.

masterlist

[sportsthoughts]

I am sick of Yohe's misery and spent five minutes thinking I wish I had ten nice things to read this morning before realising I could write them myself:

Jarry - who, let's not pretend otherwise, is not my favourite goalie in the NHL - was fantastic at lots of points especially at the start of the game (let's not talk about the bit where he wandered off at the end, we've all gone rouge at the end of a night out haven't we, let's not be judgemental). Do I know what makes a goalie fantastic? Not really. But he made lots of saves and there were many points where I thought we were done for but he came through. He really really tried and God loves a trier and it's also really nice that Ned got a bit of a break. Being a goalie for a special team like ours must be tiring

Nostril boy scored a great goal which is an enormous feat considering he was skating on a line with a Drew O'Connor who's shaved head looks so bad it would frankly throw anyone off their game. I wonder if Sid will now declare the baldness unlucky and send him to Geno's hair man

On that point - Doc admitted that his hair looks terrible - which, yes, I know that isn't exactly a win from a hockey perspective but it's a man showing self awareness which is a rare win for humanity and not to be overlooked. I think Yohe could actually really spice up his journalism by writing a piece on our hair to win ratio

Sid's assist on Raks' goal was gorgeous. Gorgeous!! It wasn't goal 600 but it was a point and a beautiful one AND we got to see him smile

Our powerplay wasn't horrific. Our PK wasn't horrific. At points they looked good! I didn't feel sick watching either and the dash managed to stay mostly sane!

All our young guys were pretty good! And hey!! We have young guys!! Young guys playing on our team!! Let us not be ungrateful for what we have. Do I squint at their numbers on my grainy livestream and say who is that? What line is that? Where did you come from? Yes, but change is sometimes good and they lower our average age by like ten years

Geno showed so much energy towards the end of the game. I know he didn't do much but my gosh he really tried! He clearly had the legs. I don't like to dwell on it but at some points last season he just looked slow and tired not quite there and last night he looked hungry for it! He's been so great this season. I could make a point about the motivational powers of the stache here but i'm not Rossi so i'll leave the RPF to those better qualified

Also, Geno's line started the game! We rarely get to see him being broody on the ice during the anthems so that was a lovely treat.

For my fellow stachefuckers, the sidstache (and rustache and others) are all going strong. How long will they survive? I'm not sure. But we've made it 20 days with our beautiful slugs intact and that's so much better than last year. We have so many pictures! So many gifs. So many clips of the stache being discussed! Movember 2024 has not disappointed

Finally, it was a Hockey Fights Cancer night! There were some lovely stories and it was so moving to see survivors celebrating at the game. I think this is where Sid would say something nice about hockey being more than a game and having the power to unite people and include them in a community and give hope and inspire and and and. So insert that here. I think he's right.

[nicolosercredit]

the new episode is great and all but yall are missing so much from this panel and as a self proclaimed flower simbolism enthusiast I will be breaking it down for you

CALENDULA FITS HIM PERFECTLY

and not just cuz it's a yellow flower, most yellow flowers symbolise positivity, but calendula just FITS THE BEST with it's various symbolism across different cultures

Calendula can bloom in a big range of conditions and are considered fairly hardy so they can also symbolise resilience and strenght which fits Chase really well.

In some cultures, they are also assosiated with grief and rememberance, which again fits Chase, with the loss of his father and him still going to visit his grave and still crying over it.

Not to mention how 'cinderella' and 'calendula' look similar as words.

Now onto hyacinth and how perfectly it describes Buddy and how it might describe him into the future...

We saw plenty of his jealousy in this chapter and the fact that purple hyacinths SPECIFICALLY symbolise seeking forgiveness, we can assume something with Ex Libris going down in the future, based on the many theories connected to the 'dreams by night' chapter and Buddy having to redeem for it

Also how the vampire guy talked about how Chase could never compare to a hyacinth?

I might be reading too much into it, but it might as well symbolise their relationship and how there's still a wall between them or to show off their Sun/Sunshine and Moon/Grumpy dynamic

Now, as for Deacon hyacinth, could also represent him with his jealousy for main characters and seeking forgiveness in this arc for what he did in the book of Deacon.

Tho blue hyacinths represent sincerity, I don't know how much it really fits him since I don't see it as a strong trait of his and think hyacinths are here to represent Buddy, I thought I should still put this out there.

I'll find you a flower Deacon.

Anyway, that is all from me. As soon as I saw this panel I went crazy over the flower symbolism and to think no one seemed to pay attention to it - I had to make a post

Thank you so much Punko for giving me something to hyperfixate on and consume every part of my being with for the next several weeks instead of studying

[gasstationsoda]

Alright I did my best transcribing this, I've numbered the guys and tried my best to match up the names with what I saw on the roster, but I could very easily be dead wrong

Interviewer, off-screen: Who would you marry on the team and why?

Player 1: Ohh, definitely Brooksie, we want babies in our future

-

Player 2: I'm going Holler because he's got a good personality. Plus, me and Holler, would be like- our babies would be like seven feet tall

-

Player 3: Bryson cause he can't grow facial hair

-

Player 4: Ohh that's a good question. Um, I'd have to go with Chris cause he's a pretty entertaining fella

Guy walking by: McElroy, what the f-

-

Player 5: Oh, Bryson. For sure.

Interviewer: Why?

Player 5: Cause he's the hottest ginger in the world

-

Player 6: It'd have to be Larry, um, he's very cute and breedable

-

Player 7: Might be basic, but Bryce and there's only one reason... Maybe two reasons

-

Player 8: Not Ben cause he's mean to me. Probably Larry.

-

Player 9: Evan cause he's a Giants fan

-

Interviewer: Who on the team would you marry and why?

Player 10: Ummm, probably John Hickam cause he's a funny guy. Yeah.

-

Player 11: Probably Shjon, I need someone to do my finances

Interviewer: Isn't that your brother?! [laughs]

-

Player 12: Ohh, I'd marry Joey Boyles cause he could be like, my sugar daddy

-

Player 13: Probably Joey, Ethan Gotchey, and Chris cause he's funny

-

Player 14: Probably Chris McElroy, he's fricken hilarious

-

Player 15: Not Clyncke, I know for a fact. Uhh fuck, Imma have to go with Tristen Brooks

Interviewer: Why?

Player 15: He's just a sweetheart. Or, no, change that, Mason Holler

-

Player 16: Probably Brayden, he'd make a great housewife

-

Player 17: I dunno, probably Bryson

Interviewer: Why?

Player 17: Cause he has a massive-

-

Player 18: I'd probably marry Gotchey. Seems like he could cook a mean dinner, I guess

-

Player 19: Probably Mason Holler cause he can cuddle really good

-

Player 20: Joe Keagy, right here, this guy

Joe Keagy: Oh! Take that all back, boys (I think)

-

Player 21: Uh, Shjon Kern cause he's a hopeless romantic just like me and he's old school

-

Player 22: I'd marry... I'd marry Eli cause he's a tender, loving guy

-

Player 23: Uhh John

-

Interviewer: Who on the team would make the best coach?

Coach: Who would make the best coach? Oh, wow, I haven't thought about that. I don't know, maybe Ethan, Bryson. They're all a little immature to still be coaches but I think in the future it'd be most of them

hello everyone. i apologize for posting a random d3 acha team from colorado but this video has the most incomprehensible yet homosexual energy that i've been boggling at for several minutes now.

several things going on here after the social girl asks who they would marry on the team

the multiple guys who said they would raise kids in a way that suggested actual pregnancy would be involved

the guy who said his teammate was breedable

the guy who said his brother

the guy who said his teammates because he has a "massive--"

the coach looking visibly relieved that he was not asked who of his players he would marry

it's a rich text...

[pjmmania]

If Snow Decides to Fall

4. “I need the truth.”

Chapter Warnings: Heavy smut (the heaviest, Jimin and reader get super kinky), pregnancy, explicit language, profanity, angst, misogynistic language

Taglist: @marihoneywk

Back to Chapter Index

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

*One year ago*

The guys were gathering on the set of a new in-house photo shoot. The ones who weren’t in a chair for hair and makeup were just sitting around, passing the time with casual conversation. All but one had arrived.

“I’m going to call him again,” Hoseok sighed to Taehyung and Namjoon, “I mean, he’s always the last one, but he’s pretty damn late this time.”

The man in question was going through one of the roughest periods in all their years together. The past couple of weeks had been joyless for him, the days unbearably hard to get through.

Right as he pulled out his phone, the lagging man appeared from the door to the set. He was clad in sweatpants and a hoodie, looking as if he’d just woken up.

“There he is,” Namjoon nudged Hoseok before calling out, “Jimin-ah!”

The man pushed his straight, dirty blonde hair out out of his eyes and smiled tiredly as he made his way over, “Morning.”

Taehyung chuckled to cover up the deep concern he had for his friend, “It’s two in the afternoon.”

None of them needed to ask him what was wrong, or why he’d obviously slept in so late. Namjoon put his arm around his shoulder, “Day by day. Just keep pushing through.”

Distantly, Jimin nodded, looking down, “I’m fine, guys. I’ve been through harder things than this.”

His words weren’t exactly believable, but the group got the sense that he wasn’t in the mood to dive deep into it yet, so they let it be.

Then Jimin was called by one of the makeup artists to go and sit in one of the vanity chairs. He left the small cluster of members to do as he was told, plopping down in the chair next to Yoongi with a yawn. He appeared to tune most things out, simply going through the motions of life.

Hoseok looked at Taehyung and Namjoon, “He’s really not looking great. I’m worried.”

“He’ll be okay eventually,” Taehyung sighed, “He’s just going through the first phase of a breakup. Soon enough he’ll be pissed at her, like we all are.”

The leader clicked his teeth and shook his head, "Seoyeon...I don't know if I've ever gone from liking to loathing someone like this. Whenever I think about what she did, I feel like running through a brick wall."

The other two concurred. Their smack talk was interrupted by the door opening and closing. In came the stylists with their outfits. There were two women. One was Chaeyoung, and the other was a brand-new face.

The trio tried not to stare rudely, but they couldn't help it. They couldn't remember the last time someone new joined the team, so this was intriguing. Luckily, the women made their way to them first, seeing that they were done with hair and makeup, and ready to change clothes. They wheeled the clothing racks, hanging on which were seven garment bags with seven names.

"Hi," Chaeyoung chirped, "You guys know the drill. Find your bag and go change. We'll help with any adjustments."

She noticed that they were looking at the newcomer, waiting to be introduced. She smirked, "Oh, and this Y/N, our new team member. Y/N, this is Namjoon, Hoseok, and Taehyung."

You already knew who they were, of course, but you were able to conceal most of your embarrassment as you bowed your head slightly, "Hello, it's nice to meet you all."

They were extremely warm and friendly.

"Welcome," Taehyung smiled, "We will try not to make you regret taking this job. At least not right away."

You laughed, "I'd appreciate that."

Always emotionally intuitive, the leader noticed the blush on your cheeks. He could tell you were a little starstruck and playfully pushed Taehyung to ease your nerves, "Ah, don't listen to him. We're an easygoing group. Thanks for being here."

You looked at his kind face and nodded. Then, the three took their individual bags and went to change. They'd be in suits today - the photoshoot had a distinguished and suave aesthetic.

Over in hair and makeup, Jin watched the interaction. Subtly, he gestured over to you without moving his head too much, "Who's that?"

Jungkook and Yoongi glanced in the same direction, while Jimin remained zoned out.

One of the makeup artists replied, "That's Y/N. She just started. Chaeyoung has sort of taken her under her wing for now, but apparently she’s expected to be quite an asset to the team.”

The woman who was fixing Yoongi’s hair gave further context, “I heard she comes from the runway world.”

As each of them were given their finishing touches and sent away to go get changed, they came up and introduced themselves to you. Chaeyoung was amused with how bashful you were acting, when she’d already seen a more confident side of you. It was like a receiving line of global superstars, saying hello to you, one after another. Your first impressions of their personalities were a fair match to what you expected.

Jimin was the only one you didn’t get to formally meet, but you didn’t notice. By the time he got up from his vanity chair to come and grab his garment bag, you were already occupied with the task of tweaking the other members’ looks. Your back was turned to him as he left to go change, fixing Jungkook’s tie. You wanted them to be worn a tad looser than normal.

A few minutes later, the last member returned in his suit. His eyes were trained on the cuff of his jacket, which had a loose button. Wondering if there was time to fix this, he lifted his gaze to find the nearest stylist. There was one he recognized brushing over Jungkook’s lapels with a lint roller, so he headed that way.

A hand on your shoulder caught you off guard, halting you from rolling the tape cylinder over the black fabric of Jungkook’s jacket. You turned around to find Jimin standing right in front of you. He had a casual smile on his face, which faded as soon as he realized that you weren’t who he thought you were.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he bowed his head a little, “I thought you were someone else. Are you new?”

The youngest member smirked, “Did you not hear, hyung?”

“Uh, no,” he grinned awkwardly, “Sorry.”

You laughed, feeling a bit uncomfortable yourself, “It’s alright. I’m Y/N, I started a couple of weeks ago. Nice to meet you.”

“You too. I’m Jimin,” he smiled, pushing himself to be more cordial than he felt like, being so worn out, “I have a loose button on my cuff here. Could we pin it back down or something?”

“I can fix it,” You nodded, “I’ll just need a flat surface. Come this way.”

There was a table you spotted set up away from the set, against the wall. Nothing fancy, just a collapsable table with water bottles and some snacks for the crew. When you got to it, you cleared some space and pulled up a black folding chair to sit.

Anticipating the next step, Jimin took off his jacket and handed it to you, leaving him in the classic white button up and the black tie. As you took it from his hand, you made brief eye contact. What everyone had said about him turned out to be totally true - his eyes were much harder to meet than the others. They were bigger in person, able to pull anyone right in without even trying. He was just gorgeous. You were afraid that if you looked at him for too long, you wouldn't be able to focus and resort to humiliating yourself. The game of acting professionally had just become more challenging.

You cleared your throat and laid the jacket on the table where it was needed. The rest of it fell on your lap. Then you unzipped your waist pouch, where you always kept some supplies handy. Watching you pull out a needle, some black thread, and tiny scissors, the man standing over you spoke with a bit of urgency, "Oh, I don't know if you have time to full-on sew it. I appreciate it, but maybe just a pin would be fine?"

You quickly glanced at the set. They seemed about ready to go, but you knew what you were doing, "It'll only take me a minute."

With that, you turned the cuff inside out and snipped the loose thread, pulling it out and removing the button completely. The needle was poised between your teeth.

Jimin put his hand on the table, putting some of his weight on it. His blonde hair, parted in the middle, draped forward and covered a little bit of his eyes, "I get the feeling this isn't the first time you've done this."

Focusing on your task, or at least trying to, your cheeks flushed. You felt the warmth in your face and mentally kicked yourself for it, praying he didn't notice. His voice was lower than you would have imagined. The interviews you'd seen of him all displayed a much lighter tone. Park Jimin was the only one out of the seven that was proving to go against your presuppositions.

You kept your attention on threading the needle, "I used to work backstage on runways, taking care of all the wardrobe malfunctions. I guess I learned to act fast."

It didn't occur to him that so soon after a wretched heartbreak, he could feel that feeling, but he did. That feeling when he made a woman blush, that prick in his ribs. Maybe it was only his subconscious trying to fill a void, or trying to gain some confidence back. Maybe he was simply intrigued by a woman who wasn’t falling at his feet, as he was so used to. Either way, it was there.

A smirk grew on his lips, “Then how on earth did you end up here?”

You were sewing the button back into the fabric of the jacket, laughing bashfully, “It was a fun environment and all, but I wanted to partake in the creative side for once. Evidently here I get to do both.”

He chuckled genuinely, and it gave you enough of a boost to make eye contact with him again. His grin was contagious this time, not intimidating.

“Are you assigned to our styling team specifically?” he asked you.

“I am.”

Oh, the fun of a little harmless flirting. He felt a lightness that he hadn’t felt in weeks, “Sorry to warn you, but we’re all a little clumsy with our wardrobes sometimes. There will probably be plenty more malfunctions to fix.”

You pulled the thread through, “I don’t care. It’s kind of fun to me, actually.”

“You’re done already?” his eyes went wide.

You snipped a little excess thread, “Mhm. I told you it would only take a minute.”

You rose from the chair and held up the jacket, positioning yourself behind him so he could put his arms through. He took the reins from there, tugging at the hems in front to straighten everything out.

Then he turned back to you with a half grin, “How do I look?”

You pursed your lips, failing to conceal your smile, “Fine, just one last thing.”

He wasn’t prepared for you to get so close to him, taking a hold of his tie. Your face was suddenly so near to his chest, and you could feel his eyes peering down on you.

Over on set, Taehyung saw this interaction. Without making a fuss, he gently elbowed Hoseok, chuckling, “Hey, remember how I said Jimin is going through the sad phase right now?”

He subtly gestured over to where the two of you were. Hoseok saw it immediately - the look he was giving you. He’d seen it many times before. It was the expression he always made when he had his sights set on a woman, locked in and calculating his next step, trying to figure you out.

Hoseok scoffed with a tiny smirk, leaning in to mutter in the other's ear, "Oh boy, I know that look."

"Yeah, I think I skipped a step in the middle of sadness and anger." the younger member sighed, arms crossed.

"A rebound?"

He laughed quietly, covering his mouth, "A rebound."

"Poor new girl," Hoseok whispered. If she was smart, she'd run the hell away. And Jimin should know better than to go after her, of all people. Staff are off limits."

"Eh," Taehyung shrugged, "Maybe he just wants a little flirtation, you know? It doesn't have to lead to anything scandalous."

Unrelated to their discreet conversation, Yoongi called out, "Jimin-ah! Hurry up!"

The shout brought you back to reality. You quickly worked your fingers to loosen his tie, just as you had with the others.

Jimin called back, "One second!"

He then returned his focus to you, admiring the cute, frazzled expression on your face. His voice was soft and raspy, "Did I not tie it to your liking, Y/N?"

You released a flustered laugh as you adjusted, "No, you did. But the concept here is supposed to be a little more relaxed. Debonaire, but not too stiff. Alright, that should be good."

"Thanks," he nodded courteously, beginning to step away, "I'll try not to ruin all your hard work."

You put your supplies back into your waist pouch and smiled, "You're welcome."

He returned to the set, joining the rest of the rest of the members with a refreshed, pleasant expression on his face. His mood had lifted, and although they couldn't openly say anything, all of the guys noticed. They shared glances with one another, all thinking the same thing.

Meanwhile, you went back to standing at Chaeyoung's side to watch them do the shoot, unaware that a simple and brief encounter had just changed the course of your life.

*Present day*

You were totally zoned out in this meeting, reflecting on the night before. The headspace that was supposed to be taken up by thoughts of the guys' pending tour was instead occupied by the words exchanged last night.

You couldn't shake the question he asked you and the way he asked it, with optimistic eyes and a curious smile. It echoed in your mind:

"Would you like to move in with me?"

It made your heart race with both elation and intimidation. The conversation that ensued was rational and calm. Jimin understood your shock at the proposition and told you to take some time to mull it over. You couldn't lie to yourself. It would make a lot of sense to live with him. You loved each other, and you were having a baby. Plus, this was one of the best ways to create that stable home environment - a little family living under one roof.

But if it wasn't for this baby, would he have wanted to? What did this mean for your future, not as parents, but as a couple? There was something to be said for remaining cautious with this. If you weren't at that point in your relationship, it could backfire to the detriment of the two of you and your child.

The Director of the Styling Department, Jang Sanghee, adjourned the meeting. As everyone else got up to go back to their personal work spaces, she called to you and Chaeyoung, “You two, please stay for a moment.”

You shared a look with your coworker and slowly sank back down into your chair at the long conference table.

Sanghee smiled at both of you once the door was closed. She was a warm woman, creative and smart. It was no wonder she was in this position. Her hair was a fitting shade of blonde and she always wore happy colors, matching her sunny disposition. She was someone the whole team respected and wanted to emulate.

“Ladies,” she folded her hands on the table, “First of all, thank you both for all your hard work on the concept for the tour. Because of your efforts, we are ahead of schedule. I wanted to speak with both of you due to a new development I’ve received from Management. The date for the boys’ new music video shoot has been confirmed for the first of September. I’m unable to attend this time, as my husband and I are taking a vacation for our anniversary, I’d like to send you two instead, since you’ve been working so close to this particular concept. You know the vision best.”

You were thrilled to have been asked, flattered that you were considered good enough to go. Chaeyoung smiled, “Wow, thank you so much. Have the looks been chosen for the music video yet?”

Your boss shook her head, “No, which is why it’s great that we are ahead of schedule with the tour. You can both take a pause on that for the coming weeks and pivot to this project.”

You inquired, “Where is the video being shot?”

“In Los Angeles,” Sanghee replied with a nod, “I will forward the email I got from Management about the location and the smaller details. You’ll love it, though. It’s a gorgeous, dated theater and we’re working with a large budget.”

Your heart dropped a little bit. You’d be five months along at that point. Though air travel would likely be safe for you, you’d need to consult with Doctor Yoon before accepting the offer. And that meant you’d need to tell Sanghee sooner than you planned. However, it was lucky that your check-up was in a few days. You’d be able to ask her then.

Chaeyoung’s excitement was evident, “It goes without saying, but I’d love to. Thank you again.”

Sanghee set her eyes on you next, tilting her head slightly to one side, “And you, Y/N? You don’t seem particularly enthused.”

You felt ashamed, unaware that it had been showing on your face. Instantly, you perked up and forced a more jubilant expression, “Oh, no I am. Thank you so much for choosing us. It’s just…I can’t give you a confirmation until Thursday. I hope that’s alright.”

The superior nodded, “Of course. May I ask why?”

You thought now was as good a time as ever, even though you really had no choice, and you trusted that both women would keep it confidential. You glanced behind to double check that the door was closed.

You inhaled deeply, “Well, I was planning to wait for a few more weeks to tell the office and HR, but I guess it’s alright to do it now. I’m expecting.”

Their eyes went wide, as did their smiles.

Chaeyoung, who was sitting next to you, brought you a hug, “Oh my gosh, congratulations!”

Sanghee grinned cordially, “That’s wonderful, Y/N. Congratulations. When are you due?”

“Early January,” you replied, face a bit pink from the flattery, “So I’m not very far along, but I’ll be right in the middle of it come September. That’s why I need to get my OBGYN’s approval to travel by air. I have an appointment this Thursday.”

Chaeyoung gasped excitedly, “Oh, that’s what these doctor’s appointments of yours have been for!”

You laughed. It was refreshing to receive a positive response to the news, for once. They would likely react very differently if they know who the father was, but they didn’t , so you’d take it.

Your boss stood up, grabbing her laptop, “Well then, you let me know what your doctor says and we will go from there.”

You nodded, “I will. Thank you very much.”

Sanghee left the meeting room to go back to her office. You and Chaeyoung followed her, walking side by side. She nudged you with her elbow gently and leaned over to whisper in your ear, “We’re going to lunch, on me.”

She was dying to know more, talking with her mouth full of bulgogi, “I need detail, Y/N. When did you find out? And who’s the father?”

You chuckled, taking a bite of your tteokbokki. The spice was likely to give you a little bit of heartburn, but you were craving it, “I’ve known for about a month.”

You had no idea how to answer the second question. Quickly, you shoved another mouthful of food in, giving yourself more time to think of a believable answer.

Chaeyoung looked at you expectantly, “Aaand? Come on, who is it?”

You swallowed, “He’s someone I’ve been seeing for a while. Nothing super serious, but I think he’ll stick around.”

She seemed to buy it, “That’s good. And hey, if it doesn’t work out it, don’t worry. Child support exists for a reason. What does he do for a living?”

You stammered, unable to make something up fast enough, “O-Oh, I really don’t think I should say. He’s a very private man.”

Chaeyoung grinned mischievously, “When a man is described as ‘private’, that means he’s rich. Is that true?”

You turned a shade of pink again, nodding bashfully, “Um, yeah. He’s affluent.”

She took her glass of water and clinked it against yours, giggling, “Cheers to that. I’m happy for you. I think you’ll be a great mom. The twins love you.”

You started to ease up, “Thanks, Chae. I have been coming around to it more and more. Any advice?”

“Oh, a ton!” She laughed, “I could go on for hours. I don’t want to overwhelm you, though, so my advice for right now is to hydrate well, buy a bigger bra because your boobs are about to get huge, and brace yourself to feel hornier than you ever have in your life.”

You broke into a laugh too, “Is it really that bad?”

She shrugged candidly, “I mean, it’s different for everyone, but I couldn’t keep my hands off my husband for weeks.”

Jimin entered your mind. Past images of him doing filthy things to you played like a film reel. You hadn’t been intimate since finding out about the pregnancy, and until recently, the thought never occurred to you. Both of you were far too concerned with more pressing matters. Now that the dust was settling, your desire for him was coming back with a vengeance.

“We’ll see.” you said.

“So if you’re due in January,” Chaeyoung began to ponder aloud, “You’ll be back in time for the tour. That is, if you’d want to bring the baby along.”

You froze. How could it have never crossed your mind? The tour would kick off in May. You were expected to go, as a stylist. Of course, no one had a clue that your employment would probably be terminated by then, as you and Jimin would likely make an announcement before the baby was born or shortly after.

However, there was a good chance that your job status wouldn’t matter. You had yet to discuss it, but you assumed that you’d be going along on the tour anyway. Surely, neither of you would want the baby separated from Jimin for that long.

“No pressure, of course,” Chaeyoung assured you after noticing that you were lost in thought, “The company would never mandate you to go with a newborn. At that point, it would have only been four months.”

You nodded, “Right. I guess it will come down to doctor’s advice.”

“Speaking of that,” she said, “Do you think you’ll be allowed to go to LA?”

You breathed out, collecting another bite of tteokbokki in your chopsticks, “I hope so. From what I understand, everything is normal. I had a clean bill of health at my first appointment.”

“I hope you can go too. I don’t know if I could manage all of that alone.”

“I’m sure you could,” you grinned, talking with your mouth full, “Plus, the guys will be happy to know you’re going. I think they enjoy the banter with you.”

She nodded, “Yes, but it will be the same for you too once you’ve travelled with them, like if you go on the tour. I’ve been with them since the early days, you know. They’ve grown to trust me. I’ve seen them go through a lot, even heartbreaks.”

You swallowed and took some water to handle the spice, “Heartbreaks?”

“Yeah,” she said with a sad look in her eyes, “I’m only sharing this with you because you’ve been around their girlfriends before and maintained the code of silence.”

You sat on the edge of your chair, hushing your voice, “What is it?”

She glanced around the two of you in the restaurant, making sure no one was within earshot. Then she looked at you and leaned forward, “Before you were hired, Jimin had a long-term girlfriend. I won’t say her name, but he was head over heels for her. A bunch of us on staff were betting that he’d marry her one day.”

It felt like you’d been kicked in the gut, “I see…When did they break up?”

She tried to recollect the timeline, “Hm, it was really close to when you started. Maybe a couple weeks?”

Your eyes widened, “A couple weeks?”

Jimin never mentioned this woman before. To hear that he’d been in love so close to meeting you sent a bad feeling down your spine. It made you jealous and frustrated…and frustrated that you were jealous.

Chaeyoung took another bite of her meal, humming with a nod, “If I’m remembering it correctly. None of the boys ever said so, but I’m almost positive she was the one who ended things. The poor guy was a wreck. It was horrible to watch, really. We all think she was using him.”

“For what?” You inquired, “Fame?”

“In essence, yes. And money. She’d get to go to all these big star-studded parties with him and rub elbows. She moved on to some big CEO here in Seoul, I’m pretty sure.”

You erased any indication of upset from your body language, “That’s awful. He doesn’t deserve that.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, “My guess is that she had almost everything she wanted in him, except for one thing - publicity. Jimin’s always been super private, and she wanted the notoriety. I think she stuck around for so long, thinking that he’d get there one day, but nope.”

There was a sharp echo of what your parents were trying to convince you - that he’d never get around to going declaring this relationship in public. You shoved it away. This was a totally different scenario.

“How long did they date?” You asked.

“A little over two years.”

You were dumbfounded. How could you have never heard about this clearly significant part of his past? You wanted to know more without sounding nosy.

“That’s a long time for her to hang on, if what she wanted was to be seen with him.” You disguised a question with as a general statement, hoping it won’t prompt her to divulge the information you wanted.

Chaeyoung’s perfectly shaped eyebrows went up, “Well that’s the thing. He did take her out on dates.”

“How?” your brows furrowed, “They were never caught, right?”

She chuckled, “They did exactly what the other guys and their current girlfriends do. They wore masks, sunglasses, hats. They drove around with tinted windows. They went in the back entrance of places and reserved private rooms. And sometimes, they paid a tad extra for discretion. Before their time, idols were having to figure out how to do this. It’s like there’s an unwritten guide on how to date in their world. Nothing new.”

You felt so ingenuous. You knew there had to have been other partners in Jimin’s past, but it was off-putting that you were blind to one that had been there right before you got together. How could you not have known if he was just getting out of a serious relationship? And how could you move in with him without knowing all the facts? It was certainly a large thing to leave out, and it planted a most unwelcome seed:

How well did you truly know this man?

“Anyway,” Chaeyoung said, “When we get back to work, you should probably go tell HR. Now that your boss knows, you might as well tell them.”

Absentmindedly, you nodded, “Yeah…okay.”

All of the guys were gathered in Namjoon’s studio. Jimin had texted in their group chat that he needed a few minutes that afternoon to speak to them, and it had to be all of them at once.

Everyone was there now, so there was no point in drawing it out. He wanted to be able to look them all in the eye and announce it unabashedly, so he stood up. All of the members were looking at him with expectant faces, worried yet relieved that they were finally about to learn what had been going on.

“I know everyone has a busy day, so I’ll make this quick,” Jimin began, “I’m sorry that I’ve been hiding something from you all, and I know it’s been more obvious than I would have liked to admit. I only ask that you guys don’t freak out and listen to me.”

Jungkook gave him a slight nod while the rest remained silent in waiting. He took in a breath through his nose and then exhaled the last bit of nerves, ready to just get it over with. He didn’t even want to give them time to ask questions.

“There’s more going on between Y/N and me,” he said, “We’re having a baby.”

It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room. Mouths were agape, eyes were wide, a few curse words were tossed around. Internally, none of them were as wildly upset as Namjoon. He knew something was deeply wrong. He just knew it. His gut had been proven right.

Not that he wanted to be flooded with horrible reactions, but Jimin was confused as the silence went on and on, “Um…Nobody has a comment on that?”

“I’ve got one,” Yoongi had his hands behind his head in shock, “How the fuck did this happen?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung’s face was more worried than upset, “No offense, but birth control is ridiculously easy to get these days. Were you really not being careful?”

He told them the truth, scratching the back of his head, “We have always been careful, aside from this one time.”

“Wait, so you purposefully had sex without protection?!” Jin scoffed, “Jimin, how could you? You were asking for it.”

He sighed, feeling the heat rise, “It wasn’t like that. I mean, yes, we were both getting caught up in the moment, but she assured me that it wasn’t that time…you know, in her cycle.”

There was a collective groan in the room. Namjoon felt his blood boil.

The confessor defended both of you, “Roll your eyes all you want, but it happened. She’s nine weeks along, and we’re doing this.”

“Look, I’m never one to tell people how to live their life,” Yoongi’s approach was much calmer this time, “But this is going to change everyone in this room. We have the right to be honest about that. Not to mention, it’s going to get your girlfriend fired. You are going to have to come clean about this sooner or later, you know that, right?”

Jimin was becoming slightly annoyed, “Of course I do. I’m not an idiot.”

He had to settle himself down a bit for continuing, “And you’re right. All of you do have the right to be uneasy about this. I know it’s going to impact all of your lives too, and I’m sorry about that. But that doesn’t mean you get to make me and Y/N feel guilty.”

“We’re not trying to make you feel guilty,” Taehyung shook his head, “It’s just…holy shit.”

Hoseok took a composing breath, “I mean…are you happy about this, Jimin?”

He sat back down, “More and more, I really am. I’m a little upset with myself and I’ve been strained by all the unknowns, of course, so that’s been hard. But I love her and from the moment she told me, I’ve had this sense that it’s all meant to be. I know it sounds weird, but that’s the truth.”

Jin, as the oldest, felt compelled to take the lead, “No, it doesn’t sound weird.”

The others all looked at him, confused. This included Jimin. The oldest member took note of this and continued to defend this stance, “Hey, this was always going to happen, right? It’s not like none of us want kids. I know I do. One of us had to be first. I think we should all do what we can to support and be glad that it’s with someone that he loves.”

Jungkook finally spoke up, “I agree. How we respond to this will set the precedent, but it goes way deeper than that. One of us is really going to be a dad. I’m happy for you both, hyung.”

Yoongi came around, smiling a little, "You know what? Fuck all of it. I'm happy for you too."

Jimin felt a wave of relief start to wash ashore, bit by bit. It turned out that Jungkook had been right. It took them a few minutes to come to terms with the news, but eventually all of them embraced it - all but one. He started getting hugs and encouraging pats on his shoulder, shows of support and congratulations. It made him wonder why he'd been so afraid to begin with. These men had gone to hell and back with him before, and they would do it again. His gratitude for their camaraderie reached new depths.

Now feeling more relaxed than he had all day, he noticed Namjoon sitting there with a tense look on his face. He was staring ahead at nothing, looking like he was in some form of trance.

"Joonie?" he questioned hesitantly, "You're the only one who hasn't said anything."

The leader snapped out of it, finding that six pairs of eyes were glued to him, observing his body language. He let out a sigh and looked down. It pained him, but he strongly felt that he needed to be a voice of reason here.

"Jimin, you're my little brother and I love you..."

Taehyung remarked in the background, "That doesn't sound good."

Namjoon went on, "And it's because I love you that I feel like I need to say this. We all watched you go through the worst heartbreak of your life a year ago. I can't bear the thought of you going through that again. What Seoyeon did to you was unconscionable."

Jimin hadn't heard that woman's name in a long time, and he'd be lying if he said it didn't still sting, but even greater than that was the knee-jerk reaction to defend the woman he loved now, "I hope you aren't insinuating what I think you are."

"Yeah," Jungkook stepped in, "You're not seriously comparing Y/N to that clout-chaser, are you?"

The leader played his cards civilly, "I am simply saying that I have questions. You said you both willingly had sex without protection, right?"

Your boyfriend's temper became short, "Yes, we did. The key word there is 'both'. It was a mutual choice. You can call it dumb, but we're both to blame for it."

"I understand that much, but what about the second part?" Namjoon raised another inquiry, "The fact that she told you she couldn't get pregnant? Does that not make you or anyone else here a little suspicious?"

Jimin was seething now, "So what, are you saying she lied to me?"

Jungkook put his hand on the fuming member's back, but had a bad feeling that this was going to escalate further. Jimin's eyes were burning.

"I'm saying you need to consider that very carefully. Think about it. A baby links her to you for the rest of your life. To you, your money, your fame. All of it."

Jimin put his face in his hands, using every ounce of strength not to blow up. The two youngest in the group focused on cooling him down, while the others joined forces against the heavy accusation.

"Namjoon," Hoseok scowled, "I can understand that you think you're protecting him, but I think you're way out of line. Y/N is not a gold-digger."

"Yeah, think about what you're saying," added Yoongi, "You're saying she got pregnant on purpose. It makes no sense."

Jin chimed in too, "I thought you'd given up on this idea after we talked at my apartment."

That made Jimin perk up again. He looked at Jin, and then back at Namjoon with a dagger gaze, "Oh, so you've thought this about her for a while, have you?"

Jin shrunk a little. It wasn’t his intention to pour gasoline on the fire.

Unappreciative of being ganged up on, the leader raised his voice, "Maybe I have, but only because I don't want you to be screwed over again! I won’t be gaslit by all of you for having a fucking memory.”

“I’ve got a memory too,” Jimin’s tone became more aggressive, “And mine shows me that she couldn’t be more different than Seoyeon.”

“Yeah, well you’ve been thinking with your dick ever since you met Y/N, so maybe your judgement is clouded.” the leader spat.

The room erupted with a collective scorn of what had just been said. Jimin shot up. It was time to remove himself from these surroundings, otherwise this would go to a place he might live to regret. Rarely had he ever been so angry, and never at Namjoon.

His entire face was tight with fury, a vein in his neck bulging out, “I’m not going to just sit here and listen to this shit anymore. I’ve said all I needed to say.”

He turned around and stormed out of the room. Shutting the door behind him, he used his last bit of self-control not to slam it. Such a crashing sound would alarm the entire floor. However, this left him with a body filled with resentful energy. He began a brisk walk toward the stairwell, fists screaming at him for permission to punch a hole in the wall.

He opened the door to the stairwell and started to hustle down. It would be a long way to the lower floors, where a practice room would be waiting for him, but he needed the physical exertion.

Rounding the corner onto the sixth level, you appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He ran into you, making him realize how rage-blurred his mind had become. Jimin snapped out of it instantly, worried that he'd hurt you.

"Shit," he checked you with a quick scan of your frame, "I'm sorry, baby. Are you alright?"

You gasped when he used your pet name and darted your gaze around, "Shh, you can't call me that here. And yeah, I'm fine."

The silence between you made both of your somewhat heavy breathing more apparent. Now, you had follow-up questions for each other. At the same time, you asked it:

"What's going on?"

Both of you laughed a little, but fakely. Jimin said, "You go first. Why are you climbing up here instead of taking the elevator? And what's with that distant look on your face?"

What were you supposed to tell him? That you were rattled by what Chaeyoung said to you at lunch? That you were bothered with the idea of him getting out of a serious relationship just before starting something with you? This wasn't the time or place for it, but you could give him a half-truth instead. You softened your voice to a whisper, hesitating for a second, "I'm going up to talk to HR."

His eyes went a little wider, "Really? Already?"

"Yeah. I was in a meeting this morning and I kind of had to tell Sanghee and Chaeyoung, so I'm going to tell HR now," you explained, "Don't worry, I'll leave out certain information. It's just a formality."

He nodded slowly, glancing up at the ceiling for moment before sighing, "Alright. I guess you would have had to in the coming weeks anyway."

"Yeah...Anyway what's up with you? You look like you want to kill someone."

Jimin found some dark, twisted humor in that and chuckled, but he didn't want to share the reason. You were already dealing with enough - telling you that one of the members thought you were a scheming social climber would wound you, ramping up insecurities. As your partner and the father of your child, he felt it was his job to protect you from strife.

"No," he feigned a smirk so convincingly, "I've just got a lot on my mind, but that's my normal."

You grinned back, "Me too, especially these days."

Not wanting to get caught, he began to walk past you. As he brushed by your ear, he asked lowly, "Will I see you tonight?"

You assumed he wanted to continue the conversation about moving in together. It would allow you to speak with him about the things you learned regarding his past, which was uncomfortable but also essential. You needed to be an adult and talk it through.

"Yes, I'll be over later."

It was early in the evening, still plenty of daylight outside. Jimin was showering off, feeling as though he needed to rinse the remnants of this tense day off his body. The heat of the water was higher than usual, but he hardly noticed. The conflict was replaying in his mind over and over again.

Part of the reason he decided to shower was to get away from his phone. It had been blowing up ever since that dicey meeting with calls and texts from every member besides Namjoon, asking if he was alright and saying how bothered they were by the leader’s words.

Jimin had no idea when he’d feel like speaking to him next. All conflicts in the group were swiftly squashed, but this was a new level of agitation. Not only had he basically called the mother of his child a gold-digger, but he also insinuated that your relationship was purely rooted in sex. It caught him totally off guard, especially coming from a friend who was usually a peacemaker.

When you entered the apartment, it was right after work hours. You heard the faint sound of the shower running as you took your shoes off and set your bag down. Better not to go and meet your boyfriend in the bathroom, you thought. You didn't trust your hormones not to wig out and overtake you. You were intent on talking to him about his ex and asking him some related questions.

It seemed that Jimin didn't hear you enter, as the shower droned on for a while. It gave you time to wander into his kitchen and grab yourself a snack. He kept some packets of cookies in the pantry at all times, for when his sweet tooth would take hold. Unfortunately for him, your appetite was starting to change, and his sweets were beginning to disappear with every one of your visits.

You sat at one of the stools at the kitchen island, lazily munching on a cookie as you waited for him.

When Jimin finally turned off the water, he could have sworn that he heard the sound of crunching plastic. It gave him pause from towel-drying his hair. He shouted out to you, "Baby?!"

You called back to him, "Yeah, I'm here!"

All you heard in response was "Ah."

Then, his bare footsteps approached you. Out he came, entering the kitchen with wet, slicked-back hair and a black robe tied at the waist. The sight was by no means easy for you to look at, but at least he was covered.

From his viewpoint, the sight of you was a comfort. Not that he wanted you to be this worn out from work, but it was endearing how you looked while languidly eating his snacks.

He kissed your cheek, which was stuffed with food, before grabbing one of the soft baked goods for himself. His palm met the cool marble surface of the island as he leaned against it. Before taking a bite, he asked you, "How was the meeting with HR?"

You shrugged, "Nothing significant. They handled it very professionally, as expected. Basically, they walked me through the maternity leave policy and told me I was more than welcome to adjust my work schedule if necessary."

"That's great," he said with a full mouth, "Also, I've been wondering about this since running into you in the stairwell. Why did you have to tell Sanghee and Chaeyoung today?"

"Oh, right. Sanghee asked me and Chae to go with you guys for the music video filming in September. I couldn't say yes officially without a green light from Doctor Yoon, and I was honest about that. So basically I had no other choice but to tell them."

Jimin's eyes were round with excitement for you, "Wow, that's awesome, baby! You'll be able to travel abroad with us...You don't seem particularly thrilled, though.”

You turned your head a little so you were facing him directly, "Huh? Oh, no I am. I'm just...You know how yesterday was a long and weird day for me?"

He nodded.

"Well, today was longer and weirder."

He hummed as he swallowed the contents in his mouth, dusting any crumbs from his hands by rubbing them together a couple times. He walked behind you and started to massage your shoulders, "If you're in the mood to talk about it, I'm here."

His lips were so close to your temple as he said that. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let him work through your muscles. You let out a breath through your mouth, so quietly and delicately that it was almost impossible to hear, but Jimin was right there.

He began to kiss the outer shell of your ear, and you did it again. You rarely got upset with his effect on you - it was often more than welcome. But in this instance, you were fighting it. You wouldn’t let yourself be taken by him tonight. It felt like giving a pass to everything you had learned about him, as if sex would be a means of saying that it was all okay. Besides, that wasn’t the only matter that needed to be discussed. He’d asked you to move in with him, for goodness sake.

Jimin was fighting it too. If he caved to desire, he would be proving Namjoon right. He would be, in essence, thinking with his dick. Therefore, he was resisting his own biology, but very poorly. It had been a month since he’d had you. A whole month without touching you, feeling your warmth around him.

The more he pictured, the more he lusted after you. Soon enough, his body began to betray his standing. His lips suckled gently on the skin right below your ear lobe as his length began to swell.

You felt it against your lower back and sighed, shaking your head, “Jimin…Not tonight.”

In a turn of events, now you were upset at yourself. Your hormones protested the refusal, a carnal knot tangling in your core. It had been so long without his hands on you, so long since you’d seen him come undone.

Jimin was never one to push the envelope. He took you at your word and backed off. Forcing a totally content expression, he gave you some space. He retreated to the wall next to the entryway to the kitchen, back against it.

You swiveled in the stool so you could face him. Even though you’d just rejected his advances, the raging pregnancy hormones made it impossible to stop looking at him.

He gave you a small grin, “I really am here to talk, if you want. I know we probably have lots to go over, huh?”

You barely heard his thoughtful sentiment, too captivated by the optical banquet before you. His robe was a bit loose at the top, creating a low ‘v’ that exposed the inner bump of his pecs. His hair was wet and pushed back, exposing his nearly perfect hairline and forehead. And then was the worst yet best of all - the protrusion at his crotch.

Your face was pink as you drank him in. Jimin watched your chest rise and fall in the way it always did when you were needy. That did him in, turning him into the man you’d come to know so well over the past year. Fuck whatever Namjoon would have to say. He knew nothing.

He brought on the final blow, the devilish upturn of his lips.

“Do you wanna talk about it or not?”

You looked down, “I...”

“Why did you look away, baby?” He pushed himself off the wall and sauntered over to you, teasing you with that sultry voice of his.

He stood next to you, body angled toward you as he leaned sideways over the counter, propping his head up with his hand. This pulled the neckline of his robe open even more, giving you a more complete view of his chest. Your eyes were starving as you began to feel a pool of wetness form in your panties.

You looked at the tent in his robe. It was taunting you. You pursed your lips together and looked back up at his eyes, which appeared to be devouring you on the spot.

You were both at the point of decision now, each of you laboring against the magnetism.

Jimin inched closer to you, his tone dropping low, “Not in a talkative mood, are we?”

You rolled your eyes, “Shut up.”

You practically pounced on him, standing up and sealing his lips with yours. He smirked pompously into the kiss, arms wrapping around your waist.

You weren’t playing around tonight, biting down on his lower lip. He groaned, his cocky demeanor being replaced by an insatiable appetite. You exhaled a moan as he lifted you up and set you on the countertop.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he breathed as he sucked and nibbled on your neck.

You were greedy for more, running one hand through his wet hair and gathering some in your fist to hold him against your flesh.

“I need you so fucking bad,” Jimin growled, “It’s been so long.”

“I know,” you moaned, “I wasn’t in the mood for a while but now I want it more than ever.”

“Mm,” he went back to attacking your lips, “You want me, baby?”

Your mind felt foggy with desire, your womanhood soaking your underwear with arousal, “Yes, I want you so bad it hurts.”

He pulled his face away from you for a moment. His eyes were black with primal lechery as he took your chin between his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger, “Is this because of your hormones, hm?

You smiled a little, panting, “They’ve been nuts lately.”

He hummed with satisfaction, “My poor baby, dealing with so many side effects from carrying my child.”

It appeared as though both of you had discovered a new kink. He was obsessed with the thought of it, and you were set ablaze when he said it.

You resumed the making out promptly, losing yourself in the taste of him. Jimin’s hands cupped your ass, giving it a squeeze before lifting you off the counter. You kept your legs wrapped around his torso and occupied his lips as he carried you away.

The next thing you knew, you were set down with your back on his bed. He assumed his rightful place on top of you, his robe parting at the legs so that his cock became free.

"You are far too covered for my liking." he said, pulling you up so you sat on his lap.

You couldn't help yourself. As he went to undo the buttons of your cream silk blouse, you wrapped your hand around his length. Your touch made him stop, his palms meeting the surface of the comforter at his sides.

His eyes closed, brows knitting together for a second before relaxing again. He licked his lips and sucked in a hitched breath once you began to palm his balls. You were addicted to this facial expression - fully absorbed in the moment and dying for more.

"What are you doing?" his voice was raspy, "I was in the middle of getting you naked."

You sank into the role of innocence, "I'm sorry. Would you like me to stop?"

"No," he returned all too quickly, "No, keep going. In fact, do more baby. Please."

The word 'please' was your cue that the time to act innocent was over. You smirked and removed your hands. You scooted off his lap and then off the bed entirely. Jimin followed you to the edge of the bed, anticipating your next move. Before proceeding, you decided to give him a little show. You wanted to bring him to the brink of madness.

Tantalizingly slow, you undid button after button of your shirt. You let it fall from your shoulders and pulled the rest of it off your body, dropping it to the floor. Your boyfriend was transfixed by your breasts, so plump and cupped by your bra, spilling over it.

"Your tits look bigger." he said.

You removed your bra, "Do they?"

He bit the inside of his cheek, "They do."

You smiled softly and removed the rest of your clothing. As you pulled your jeans down, you turned around, giving him a full view of your ass in a pair of seamless black panties. When you faced him again, he looked as if he wanted to eat you alive.

Jimin began untying the loose knot of the robe, pulling the fluffy garment off his body. He sat there fully bare, cock straight and veiny, more than ready to receive your touch. The image was so obscene - muscular thighs that could probably suffocate you spread open, balls hanging off the bed at the base of his leaking, throbbing member.

You maintained a sensual eye contact as you lowered onto your knees in front of him. The rug beneath his bed offered some comfort.

Jimin could have blown his load just looking at you like that, so gorgeous and eager to please.

“I wouldn’t wait too much longer, sweetheart,” he rasped, “Otherwise I’ll have to pick you up and blow your fucking back out. I- Ah, shit.”

You’d successfully shut him up by engulfing his entire cock in one go.

You began bobbing your head up and down at a steady pace.

“Fuck,” he sighed with a shaky disposition, “I missed this pretty mouth of yours.”

You hummed around him, the vibration making him bite his lip and allow his head to fall back. Your jaw became slightly sore after a minute or so and you pulled off, a popping sound releasing as your lips broke contact. His dick sprung up and down, stiff with longing.

Jimin gritted his teeth, piercing you with sexually frustrated, blown-out eyes. He took a firm grip of your hair, making you moan while looking up at him.

“Did I say you could stop?”

He couldn’t fight the urge to boss you around while you were literally kneeling before him. He searched your eyes to make sure you into it, and they were radiating all the right signals. You loved it when he became dominant like this.

Without giving you the chance to respond, he placed his other hand in your hair and pushed you back down on his cock. You gave him full control of your movements, loving the tingling tug on your scalp.

His mouth fell open in a slew of moans, one for every time you reached the base of him. He was acting like a man possessed, totally unaware of all other surroundings.

“Such a good girl,” he praised, “So mine.”

You whimpered around him.

“Shit,” he hissed, letting you go free for a moment as he stood up, then he went right back to owning you, “How did I go so long without this? Did you miss having my cock in your mouth, baby?”

You hummed in agreement.

“I thought so,” Jimin began to hold your head in place and thrust his hips instead, rutting into the confines of your wet lips like an animal, “God, Y/N…Feels so fucking good. I bet you want a big load of my cum in your throat, hm? Or should I fill up that pussy again?"

The thought of him shooting his seed into your sopping cunt made you both moan. Now there was no reason why he couldn't.

You choked on him when you tried to say something. He permitted you to pull off his dick, still holding you by the hair. The way you looked up at him, eyes glassed over with arousal and tears from gagging, made his cock twitch. He was getting close.

You were catching your breath when you said, "Both."

There was a hint of a leer on his face before he began thrusting inside your mouth again, going full force. You mewled as he face-fucked you, letting out his own grunts and groans.

"Fuck, you want both, baby? I'll give you both."

His ruts became sloppier and his breaths jagged. He was approaching the pinnacle, while you were enjoying the act of driving him insane.

"Shit, sweetheart," his head launched backward, "I'm cumming!"

Your tongue was flooded with a warm saltiness as he let out a loud whine. His eyes screwed shut and mouth locked in an open shape, his hips compulsively gave it a few final ruts. When he came down from the rapture, he collapsed back into his original sitting position on the bed.

You swallowed what he gave you and wiped the excess saliva off your chin before being picked up and laid on the comforter. You were grinning at each other, but you didn't want to lose the fire and get all soft and cushy just yet. You were having too much fun.

You laughed and mirrored his own words back at him, "I wouldn't wait too long."

He chuckled darkly, "You're a little minx, you know that? Now let's get these annoying panties off."

They were a thin, delicate material - easily torn apart when he used the right amount of force. The ripping sound was quick, as if it took no effort at all. You gasped at the sudden action, subdued once more.

Heaven came to you once his fingers grazed over your bud. He cursed when he felt how soaked you were.

"Let me taste you," he said, shifting backward, "I wanna taste how ready you are for me."

Normally, you preferred his fingers, but all bets were off now. You were so horny that any form of contact from him would feel amazing. You nodded hastily, letting him trail down your body. He left kisses and suckled as he moved down. When he got to your belly, he took more care.

He lingered right below your belly button for a moment, placing several kisses there, "When will you pop? I want to see my baby grow."

You smiled softly, "Soon, I hope. If I'm going to have all these symptoms, I at least want something to show for it."

"Mm," His fingers traced over your womb, "If being this cock hungry is one of your symptoms, I'm more than okay with it."

You would have giggled, but then his lips attached themselves to your inner thigh and you gasped instead. You resorted to shifting your hips toward him, greedy.

When his tongue finally met your clit, your back arched off the bed. To hold you in place as you writhed, Jimin gripped your thighs. You tasted delectable, a different flavor than before getting pregnant.

"J-Jimin..."

You didn't care about anything else. You'd forgotten all about the tension you felt when you arrived, and all of the stressful topics you had to talk about. In this moment, you knew he was all yours.

His tongue flicked over your femininity rapidly, applying the right amount of pressure.

"You're so juicy, baby," he sighed, "So ripe for me and me alone, isn't that right?"

You were a moaning mess, non-verbal.

He squeezed your thighs, "Hm? Use your words."

You half moaned, half chuckled, "You sound like - ah, you sound like a dad already."

He would have found it amusing, but he was far too entrenched. In a way that only Jimin could, he turned what you said into something filthy.

“Then why don’t you cum for Daddy?”

That name hadn't yet been introduced in your intimacy, but in this context, it brought you closer to ecstasy. You mewled under the power of his tongue, and the way his lips located just the right place to suck gently.

He was already getting hard again by the sound of your pleasure, the warm, slick feeling of it on his face.

"Tell me how it feels, sweetheart." he muttered before returning to work.

"S-So fucking good, Jimin." you whined.

He looked at you with sinister eyes and a grin, "Baby, that's not my name tonight. Come on, say it. I can tell you love it."

Your face got redder, "It feels so good, Daddy."

His cock twitched, "Are you gonna cum on my tongue? Do you want Daddy to fill up your pussy again?"

It snapped, the bundle inside you. You squirmed, legs shaking as you unraveled. The moans you let out were panted and beautiful, giving him gratification.

As you came back down to the world, Jimin smirked, "You came fast."

You smiled through your afterglow, "I told you, my hormones are nuts. But you might have had something to do with it too."

He kissed the insides of both of your thighs, "I could fucking live down here, right between these gorgeous legs."

You ran your hand through his hair, "Are you hard enough yet?"

Jimin kissed your knee with a smirk, "Oh, is my baby getting impatient for her second load?"

You said nothing and grabbed his wrists to pull him over your body. He chuckled at your fervor, but neither of you was laughing when his cock aligned at your folds, prodding and searching for release. His face was hovering over yours, and you gave him a slight nod to signal that you were ready.

His face had been drained of any fluff and romance, replaced totally by carnal ardor. He was going to fucking ruin you.

His hips rolled forward swiftly, filling you to the hilt immediately. You gasped, sensitive from your orgasm. He found a quick pace right away, groaning at the feeling that he'd been missing for a month.

"You're so fucking tight, sweetheart," he grunted, "So fucking tight and needy for Daddy's cock."

His filthy words were encasing you in heat, making you ache for more, "I-I wish you...I wish you put your baby in me sooner, Daddy."

Jimin began to fuck you harder, more turned on than he'd ever been in his life, "Yeah?"

"Y-Yeah," you panted, "Because now you can - Ah! Now you can fuck me raw like this all you want."

"Holy shit," he moaned, eyes squeezed shut, "You're such a dirty girl. Everyone at work thinks you're sweet as can be. How wrong they are.”

"I'm only like this for you." you moaned.

His head dipped to the valley of your breasts, "That's right, baby. My cock drives you wild every fucking time, hm? That's how you ended up like this."

Then he pulled out for a second, breathing heavily. He became upright on his knees and pulled you toward him, legs up on his shoulders. You moaned at how effortlessly he was able to take control of your body, positioning you exactly how he wanted.

When he re-entered you, he hit much deeper, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. As his hips slammed into yours, your boobs moved in a circular motion.

He delighted in it, "Fuck yeah, look at those tits bounce."

Their movement caused you soreness. They'd been sensitive for a while now, but it was nothing too painful, "They're a little s-sore, Daddy."

Jimin smirked amid his euphoria, "That's because they're getting all nice and big. They need to be able to make lots of milk for my baby. Fuck, that's so hot."

He railed you harder than ever before, unrelenting and rough, chasing another orgasm. You knew you were going to be wobbly after this. You were a mess below him, practically sobbing as he made the world spin. You were delirious, and it only encouraged him to keep pounding into your cunt.

Sweat was beginning to make both of your bodies sticky.

“Look at you,” he exhaled, the air in his lungs feeling scarce, “So fucked out for Daddy. So starved for my cum, even though you’ve already got my child inside you. You’re insatiable. Beg for it, baby. Tell me how much you want it, and maybe I’ll give it to you.”

You were so close to a second climax that you couldn’t speak.

Jimin let go of one of your legs so he could give your ass and underhanded smack, “Don’t make Daddy ask again. Fucking beg for it.”

You whined, “Please cum inside me! I want your load, Daddy! Please give it to me!”

He could tell how close you were and wanted to send you up to the stars. With both of your legs still up on his shoulders, he started to rub your clit in the circular motion he knew you loved.

“O-Oh!” you moaned, “I’m gonna cum!”

Your peak rammed into you just as hard as his dick. Your cunt squeezed and clenched around him, making him groan out, “Christ, that’s it baby. Milk my cock for my seed. This cunt has me so close already.”

You were bordering on overly sensitive now, the pleasure becoming a faint, delicious pain, “I want it, I want it all Daddy.”

“I know you do,” he gritted his teeth, “You’re going to take it all, just like you did last time. Fuck.”

He was nearing the end, taking your legs and letting them return to the plush surface of the bed. Then he returned to a missionary position, jackhammering into you with desperate, inconsistent thrusts.

“So close,” he chanted, “Oh God! Gonna give you such a big load. Cup my balls, sweetheart. Feel how much cum I still have for you.”

Obedient as ever, you did as you were told, reaching around to hold his balls in the palm of your hand. They felt so swollen and full, heavy with more of the genetic material that had helped create the child in your womb. You gently caressed and rolled them.

“Ugh, keep doing that!” he released a moan, sweat dripping down his temple, “I’m cumming!”

With one last shattering sound, jets of semen poured into you. His hips slammed into you out of reflex as he rode it out, cursing and mewling. His member was pulsating inside of you, making you hum with contentment.

Jimin’s arms gave out and his weight fell on you, making you giggle as both of you heaved. You were both in a glowing, exhausted, perspiring state, bodies tangled.

It was only then that he dropped the promiscuous demeanor, kissing your breast lazily, “Fuck, I love you. I love you so much.”

You wrapped your quivering legs around him, pulling him in deeper, panting, “I love you too.”

Then he lifted his head, giving you the chance to see his worn out, adoring smile. His chest was rising and falling, and strands of damp black hair were dangling over your nose. You ran your hands through his hair, pulling it back so you could see his entire face.

“One of our best ever,” he exhaled, “That was unbelievable.”

You laughed, “I agree.”

He rolled off you, closing his eyes and relishing in this blissful feeling, “I’m afraid I’ll have to shower again. Join me?”

You smirked and twisted around so that you were on top of him. You kissed him slowly and deeply. Jimin’s heart could have burst. As always, you managed to take all of the worries out of his head. You erased all negativity, all anger. He felt your soft lips on his and experienced nothing but optimism.

His hands went to your cheeks, keeping you right where you were for what felt like hours.

“This is why I want you to move in with me,” he mumbled between kisses, “I want to come home to you, and for you to come home to me.”

Though you feigned a small grin, the conversation you had with Chaeyoung broke through this perfect bubble. Now that your sexual urges had been quelled, you couldn’t ignore what you had come here to discuss in the first place.

Your heart began to deflate as you imagined him loving that other woman, being devastated from losing her, right before he became smitten with you. The more you remembered, the more your face fell.

“Y/N?” Jimin’s eyes were confused.

You frowned and climbed off of him, sitting up.

Your boyfriend was perplexed, sitting up beside you. The way you were staring straight ahead unnerved him, “Sweetheart, what is it? Do you…not want to move in?”

You closed your eyes with a sigh, ��It’s not that. I would, I just…I was told something today that really caught me by surprise. I need the truth.”

He couldn’t imagine why you were talking about honesty. He’d never transgressed against you in that way, at least not severely.

“Okay,” he gave you a nervous smile, “What do you want to talk about?”

You were deadly serious, turning your head to look him in the eye. He took note of how concerned, and even a little hurt, you were.

“Tell me about your ex. The one who left right before we got together.”

[dissapointu]

heyy!! can you do how arcane characters would react to a reader with bpd? I have it and its really hard to deal with

I personally don't have Bpd so I hope I was able to write for it- lmk if I got it completely wrong.

Jinx

Arguments with Jinx are a whole event. She’s already impulsive and emotional, so when you’re spiraling, it’s like pouring gas on a fire. She’ll yell, throw something (not at you, but still—chaotic), and storm off dramatically. But the second she sees you starting to crumble, her face softens, and she’s all, “Hey, hey, don’t cry, okay? I’m the crazy one, remember?”

She’ll make up for it with grand, ridiculous gestures—like painting a giant heart on the wall with “SORRY” inside it or showing up with an armful of random things she thinks you’ll like (a half-broken music box, a live rat, some Piltie trinket she swiped). Daily life with her is unpredictable. She’ll match your mood swings and throw in some of her own, but she’s always there to hold you through the aftermath, whispering, “It’s us against the world, baby.”

Vi

Vi has this big sister energy, so she tries to stay calm during arguments, but let’s be real—she’s not a saint. If you start pushing buttons, she’ll fire back, arms crossed, scowling like, “Oh, so this is my fault now?” But the second she sees that shift in your expression, that look like you’re about to spiral, she’ll stop mid-sentence and sigh.

“Come here,” she says, pulling you into a hug even if you’re still mad. “I didn’t mean it. You know I’m an idiot sometimes.”

She’s great at grounding you during bad days—holding your hand, distracting you with dumb stories about Powder or her childhood. Daily life with Vi is full of banter and teasing, but she’s also super protective, always making sure you know you’re safe with her.

Sevika

Arguments with Sevika are INTENSE. She’s not great with emotions, so when you’re on edge, she’s either trying to fix it logically (spoiler: it doesn’t work) or getting frustrated. “What do you want me to do? Tell me, and I’ll do it!” she’ll snap, her mechanical arm whirring in frustration.

But once she realizes she’s made it worse, she’ll sit beside you in silence, waiting for you to calm down. Then she’ll quietly say, “I don’t get it, but I’m trying. For you.”

Daily life with Sevika is steady—she likes routine, which can be comforting when you’re feeling unstable. She’ll bring you food when you’re too drained to eat and let you vent while she works. If you get clingy, she’s the type to roll her eyes but secretly loves it when you hold onto her like a lifeline.

Silco

Silco approaches everything with the cold, calculating precision of a chess player, including your BPD. During arguments, he’s quiet but firm, and sometimes his calm demeanor makes you feel worse, like he doesn’t care. But the moment he sees tears in your eyes, his voice softens.

“Enough,” he says gently, stepping closer. “I’m not leaving. Stop telling yourself that.”

He’ll sit with you until the storm passes, stroking your hair and murmuring reassurances in that low, gravelly voice of his. Daily life with Silco is structured—he thrives on stability and will gently encourage you to find your own, whether that’s a routine or a grounding technique. He’s not the best at expressing love, but his actions—bringing you tea, remembering the little things—say everything.

Vander

Arguments with Vander are rare, but when they happen, it breaks both of your hearts. He hates seeing you upset, especially when you’re directing all that anger at yourself. “Hey, don’t do that,” he says, his voice full of worry. “You’re not a bad person.”

He’ll pull you into a hug, even if you’re still yelling, and just hold you until you calm down. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers. “We’ll figure it out.”

Daily life with Vander is comforting—he’s patient and steady, always making sure you feel loved. He’ll cook for you, listen to your rambles, and let you cry into his chest when it all feels like too much. He’s your rock, and you know he’ll never let you fall too far.

Ekko

Ekko’s a sweetheart, but arguments can get heated because he cares so much. “Why do you always think I’m gonna leave?” he’ll ask, frustration lacing his voice. But then he sees you breaking down and immediately softens.

“Hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, pulling you close. “You’re stuck with me, okay? Forever.”

Daily life with Ekko is fun and supportive. He’ll crack jokes to make you laugh on bad days and bring you little gifts—flowers he found, gadgets he fixed—just to see you smile. He’s great at reminding you of your worth when you can’t see it yourself.

Jayce

Jayce doesn’t get BPD at first, but he’s trying, okay? Arguments can get messy because he’s such a fixer. “What do you mean you don’t want advice? I’m trying to help!” he’ll say, running his hands through his hair.

But after a while, he learns to just listen. He’ll apologize quickly, his voice soft and full of regret: “I didn’t mean to make it worse. I just want to be here for you.”

Daily life with Jayce is full of love and enthusiasm. He’s always hyping you up, reminding you how amazing you are. If you’re having a bad day, he’ll drop everything to take you out for a walk or snuggle up with you on the couch.

Viktor

Viktor is SO patient. Arguments don’t happen often because he’s great at de-escalating situations. “I understand,” he says softly when you’re upset, his voice calm and measured. “I know it feels like that right now, but it’s not true.”

He’s the king of quiet, steady love. Daily life with Viktor is peaceful—he lets you sit with him while he works, always making sure you’re comfortable. On bad days, he’ll bring you tea and remind you, “You’re not a burden. Never.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn is a problem-solver, so arguments can get frustrating because she wants to fix everything, even when you just want her to listen. “I’m sorry,” she says eventually, taking your hands in hers. “I’ll try to do better. Just…tell me what you need.”

Daily life with Caitlyn is filled with small acts of love—she’ll leave you little notes, bring you flowers, and make sure you feel secure. She’s incredibly understanding, always willing to talk things through when you’re ready.

Mel Medarda

Mel is the definition of grace under pressure. During arguments, she stays calm, even when you’re spiraling. “I know you don’t mean that,” she says firmly, but her eyes are full of understanding.

She’s amazing at making you feel grounded—pulling you into her lap, stroking your hair, and whispering, “It’s okay. We’re okay.” Daily life with Mel is luxurious—she spoils you with gifts and quality time, always making sure you feel loved and valued.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa is a bit of a bulldozer during arguments, but not out of malice—she’s just used to being in control. “You’re stronger than this,” she’ll say, her tone sharp. But the moment she sees your tears, she softens.

“I didn’t mean to push,” she says, placing a steady hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to fight this alone.”

Daily life with Ambessa is protective—she’s always making sure you’re cared for, whether that’s bringing you food, making sure you rest, or just standing by your side like an unshakable force.

TL;DR: Everyone loves you in their own messy, flawed way because you’re worth every bit of the work. <3

[that-basic-simp]

Shut The F**k Up

Vi x Fem!Reader CW: Swearing, angst WC: 1.3k+ A/N: This is the censored version. The uncensored version is linked below! (It's because I am a bit uncomfortable with posting NSFW here on Tumblr.)

"Just shut the fuck up!" I pounded my fist onto the table.

The entire bar went silent as the loud thud overpowered the thunderous music. It even caused the jukebox to lose alignment on the record. Scratches could be heard as the song skipped a few seconds ahead. My breathing was heavy as I was just staring at the counter.

"You alright there?" someone reached over and tried to place a hand on my shoulder.

I turned and smacked their hand away, "Just peachy."

I grabbed the bottle of alcohol and stood up. I threw down some coins and stumbled out of the bar. Words fell from my mouth as I mumbled to myself. They were just incoherent mumbles until memories of what happened crept back into my mind. Were her and I something? Or was I just her fling? Just a hook up every now and again to forget her ex? Or did we actually have something? It was never brought up, never spoken between us. She just came into my apartment, drunk and bloody, and we spent the night together. She was rough, hard, something I couldn't get elsewhere. She made me feel alive in a long time. She gave me a reason to believe that life was worth living. Now with her gone, what is the point?

I took a long swig from the bottle and let the contents slide down my throat, heating my stomach up and making my entire body feel like it was on fire. I wiped the droplets from the corner of my mouth and let out a belch. Others turned, disgusted, while I just stumbled past them. I burst into my apartment and slammed the door closed. I didn't take one step and I stumbled onto my bed.

"Jeez, and I thought I would get bad."

I shot up and looked around. That jet black, poorly dyed hair, that stature and build, that tone of voice. Was she really here? Or was the alcohol making me hallucinate?

"V-Vi?"

She turned and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Hey, little dove."

It's been a while since I heard that pet name come from her. One of our drunken escapades resulted in us going towards topside one early morning to watch the birds. While I was still conscious of my thoughts, I pointed out the birds to her and told her what kind they were. I told her I loved doves and that was where the nickname came from.

"You're still here? In Zaun?"

"Yeah. I am."

"I would have figured you went back up top when your ex came down here."

"Well, things were figured out and turns out, our paths diverged from one another's."

"I could have told you that. You're running around with a Piltie and you thought it was going to work out?"

"Like what we had was something."

"Was it? Or was I just your rebound? Someone to make you forget of your troubles?"

"We never established anything."

"You're one to talk, leading me on and then just leaving without so much as a goodbye."

"We never had anything."

A knife to the heart. In her case, a fist to the face. I bit my inner lip and let out an exasperated sigh.

"So," I tried not to let my voice crack. "What we had, was nothing?"

She shook her head, but then shrugged.

"I-I don't know."

"You just said we never had anything."

"I'm starting to doubt that."

"Did you have something going on between you and that Piltie?"

"I don't know about that either."

"Then what do you know? I can tell you," I stood up and walked towards her. "All you know how to do is get into someone's face, get into someone's business, and just fuck shit up."

I was mere inches from her now.

"I thought you were going to be a great person, you know. You were hard to like at first, but after we went around and screwed over some people for fun, and now you're here screwing me over, that's just sad, Vi, even for you. All I can see now is you don't think with this," I jabbed my finger harshly against her forehead. "But with these," I reached down and grabbed her bandaged fists.

"Sometimes, I wonder if you think at all," I scoffed.

A scowl appeared on Vi's face as she just stared into my eyes with those powder blue eyes. Some remnants of that black face paint were still on her skin.

"Maybe that's why you can never keep the people you love and care about around."

That was what caused to break the camel's back. In a flash of black and a bit of red, Vi's hands grabbed my wrists and pinned me to the bed. Her lip was pulled back in a growl as her face was just mere inches from mine once more.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

"Make me," I said.

She harshly pressed her lips against mine. I let her in like the night she accidentally came into my apartment thinking it was hers. She let out a bit of a moan, probably tasting the alcohol on my tongue. My arms wrapped around her neck as I dug my hands into her hair. I grabbed a clump of it before I yanked it a bit too hard. In return, she bit on my lip a bit hard to where it drew blood. I pushed her away and ran my index finger over my bottom lip.

"What the fuck, Vi?"

She just smirked and ran her tongue along my bottom lip before she placed her lips back onto mine. I couldn't deny her. That was probably my problem in this situation. She gave me attention and was good to me now that I think about it. She never once tried to hurt me when I was intoxicated. She tried to sober me up before we started anything so she knew I was aware of what was going on. And I took care of her. After her matches I would wash the blood from her knuckles and anywhere else she got blood on herself. I'd make sure she ate and drank before and after each fight. On nights she would indulge a little too much in the alcohol, Loris and I took her back to her place. Or if it was just me, I brought her back to mine. We were more than this, weren't we?

I pulled away and furrowed my eyebrows at her. She caught on and pulled away, sitting beside me. We both let out disappointed sighs. Not at each other, no. Just at ourselves for letting us get like this. So heated with emotions that it drives us to be near one another.

"What are we, Vi?" I asked.

She shrugged, "I-I don't know. I-I'm sorry I can't answer that."

"Of course you can't answer it," I reached down under my bed and grabbed another bottle of alcohol.

I pulled the cork off and started to down it. Vi reached over and grabbed it from me mid drink.

"H-Hey!" I wiped the liquid from my chin.

She took a long swig before she spit it out.

"The fuck is this?"

"Don't complain about the alcohol since it's not yours," I snatched it back.

"I can't go back to my place."

"Why? Someone else take it?"

"Yeah," she said shyly.

"O-Oh."

"Yeah."

"Maybe if you actually took care of yourself for once--"

"This again?"

"You left me, Vi!"

"I left a lot of people. I left the people I cared about and look what happened. I fucked up."

"No shit."

"Gee, thanks for rubbing salt into the wound."

"We all fuck up, Vi."

"You don't know what fucking up is," she shook her head.

"Actually, I do."

"Really? Do tell."

"I fucked up the day I let you into my life. I took you in because I thought you were just lost and broken. Turns out, you're just fucking stuck in the past and running away from the things you can't beat with your fists."

Vi went silent. That was when I knew I made things worse. There would be days where we'd argue and she'd leave and not come back for almost a week on end. Then I'd find her in an alley slumped over with bottles beside her. And a stream of vomit.

"Vi, look I--"

"Do you ever shut the fuck up?" she turned towards me.

"Only when you make me," I smirked.

"I'll do more than just that," she pinned me to the bed once more.

Link to the uncensored version