#as always. i will not be responding to anonymous messages about this.

[alchemyfire]

@historicalshroe

Do I feel right that you are trying to accuse me of hypocrisy in my own post, which is partly in your defense? Seriously? Maybe you don't fully understand the point of this post. It is to demonstrate unity. It is to show that we will not believe the lies about our friends that Anonymous is spreading across the community in an attempt to divide us. It is to show them that we are not manipulative cowards like them, but that we are sticking together as friends. That's the only way they will lose.

As for my previous recommendations, it is not hypocrisy, because I would stick to them today - do not respond directly to those who are only trying to arouse your anger and provoke conflicts. Do not show them how it has affected you. Unfortunately, your reactions are often very hasty and potentially offensive, even to people who are on your side. Can't you see how counterproductive it is? I think you feel the consequences of this behavior yourself. It is isolation and frustration. Moreover, those who send these messages take malicious pleasure in making you angry or losing a friend. I can't tell you what to do. I can only advise you - any response should hurt their goals and strengthen yours.

I say it's important to publicly condemn anonymous haters, express contempt for their behavior, and show our unity and resilience against their lies and hatred. And that's what I've always done. They want to tear this community apart, they want to hurt the people we love, and that's why we have to stick together and manifest it in this way.

This day should be dedicated to love.

But after several posts from @saintjustitude and after how some people are constantly being harassed by anonymous, I want to write this.

In the name of beloved friends who are being insidiously attacked.

Spreading hatred and lies through anonymous messages is so disgusting. Spying on people and turning the good deeds of their sincere kind hearts into dirty tricks in your slanderous comments to fit your twisted point of view - this is disgusting!

Maybe you even believe your own slander, maybe you are unhappy or have been changed by a bad experience. And if you would come out under your own name, defend your positions with arguments, listen to the other side -perhaps then you yourself could be understood, you could be heard. There could be even some kind of compassion for your suffering.

But since you have chosen to spit your hatred anonymously, you deserve none of it.

Be warned, this community is dedicated to fighting slander and manipulation. We know it when we see it, and we hate it.

Anonymous intrigue is like a virus that has been around for centuries - it needs to be cured!

[kinnbig]

okay so. I think a lot of what was leaked is kind of irrelevant. like yeah he's being a bit mean about his costars but like. eh. that's their own personal drama and doesn't necessarily need to be a scandal. him secretly not liking bible or apo or anyone is like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ whatever! he's rude and it's embarrassing of him but it's not the thing that's relevant here imo

what is relevant in the leaked messages is his constant homophobia and misogyny, his demonstrated lack of remorse for his past homophobia and misogyny, and the continued evidence of him being threatening and violent.

that's what is so insane that people are continuing to defend. I don't care that he was a bit rude about his coworkers. I care that his threatening, sexist, homophobic behaviour continues to get ignored and defended by his fans. I care that the bigotry and the gossip are being equivocated, allowing the actual offensive things he said to be swept under the rug of "aren't we all a bit gossipy sometimes in our private messages?"

because sure. most of us are probably a bit mean about our friends/coworkers in private sometimes. but I sure hope we aren't all saying half of the shit that he was saying in some of those messages.

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[northern-passage]

You don't have to respond to this if you don't want to, I know it will start unneeded drama but I just found it soooo interesting that, since the transphobic blog lets you see their likes, most of their likes are TWC related. And it's not like that fandom is notorious for being a toxic hellspace, no sir.

to be frank it's not just twc, the IF space as a whole is pretty notorious for being toxic at this point. whether you're on tumblr or reddit or the forums, you're going to find these kinds of people lurking around.

that was why i did post that person's username because i could see them interacting with various other authors, and it's best to just block them before they send you something stupid, too.

just like any large online community there are going to be a lot of trolls trying to get attention by sending inflammatory messages or leaving cruel comments wherever they can; i've been getting that kind of stuff sent to me or left in reviews or comments for years now. and currently losers online are having a fucking field day with everything that's going on right now - racism, islamophobia, antisemitism, transphobia, even gore, i've gotten it all in my inbox over the last few months and i've seen others get even worse. these people are pathetic and not worth your time. i've gotten better at not responding to stuff like that, but it is hard to resist that instinctive anger, and that's exactly why they do it & exactly why you see it in every single fandom/online space.

all of that to say, just ignore and block them and you'll have a far better time online than if you constantly try to argue or reason with them because they don't care, their only goal is to make you miserable. even if you think you have some epic clapback, it's not worth it, you're still giving them the attention they clearly desperately want and potentially exposing others to harmful rhetoric. just block 'em, babey!

[i-dared-myself]

Uncomfortable

Stray Kids x reader

Requested by anonymous: hello, ash! would it be good if i request something, pls? i was thinking of a 9th member au with skz, could you maybe write a compilation of scenarios in which the reader is made uncomfortable and how the guys help her through it? idk if you'll do this, i hope it's not too much!

You love your job, that much you were certain of. You love your fans, as well. You work so hard in every dance and every song.

So when you step out on stage your heart swells in pride to see the thousands of Stays. Knowing that your group went from nothing to this is incredible.

And they’re all here to see you.

Well- not just you. The other members are just as, if not more, important than you. 

But at any given moment, thousands of eyes could be on you.

You had done many concerts before this. You had preformed more times than you could count. It had never bothered you before, and yet here you were.

You stand there in your concert attire, makeup and hair done. You look good and you know it, but what if people online didn’t think so? What if you were being recorded right now because there was a hair out of place?

“Hey.” Felix ducks down, using his body to cover the two of you from the crowd. “What’s going on?”

You force a smile, gripping at your shirt. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

Chan says something into a microphone, and the crowd roars. You make a move to join the others, but Felix’s hand wraps around your wrist gently. He tugs you back to him and looks you in the eyes.

“You look good,” he says simply. He smiles and his freckles scrunch up in the Felix-way that makes you want to grin as well. “We all know that.”

Your voice seems to catch in your throat as you try to respond. You cough. “But… What if I do something wrong?”

“You’re won’t, first of all,” he firmly says. “And secondly, we mess up all the time. Stay still loves us. It makes us human and that’s what they love about us.”

You nod slowly and take a deep breath. “Yeah. The best memes are made when we… Yeah.”

Felix releases you. “Ready?”

You trail after him to the group, smiling as brightly as you can. After a minute it turns into a genuine expression, and you know you love your job.

The concert goes by with very minimal mistakes. You have as much fun as you hope the fans do, and the guys all collapse into a pile next to you when you’re done.

“Gimme,” Hyunjin rasps to Jeongin. The younger man gets the message and hands him his water bottle.

“Good job, everyone,” Chan praises. He stretches out his joints and groans. 

“Getting too old for this?” Seungmin arches an eyebrow teasingly.

Chan scowls and levels a finger at him. “Watch your mouth.”

You’re covered in sweat and feel sticky. You check the time and notice it’s very late. “I want to go shower at the dorms. Are we leaving soon?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Chan does a head count for some reason before guiding the group to the van. You clamber inside and pull your phone out, wanting to see what everyone thought of the concert.

“You did great,” Minho mutters quietly. His voice is low enough that only you can hear it. 

His words make your stomach tumble. You don’t get told often that you did good. Everything always what you could’ve done better. What someone else could have done better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You really aren’t in the mood for recording, but you sit patiently as your makeup is applied and your hair is manipulated. You’re given a set of clothes and once you put it on, you exit the changing room and rejoin the others.

“Uh,” Changbin begins, averting his eyes, “that’s an interesting outfit.”

You’re confused, but look down at yourself for the first time after rushing through getting dressed. It’s definitely the most revealing thing you’ve worn for recordings, and you’re not sure if you feel comfortable with that. 

You’re not one to judge those for what you wear, but this is different. This is your job. This is where you’re supposed to be professional, and you have to wear… this.

It has what can only be described as a boob window. You tug it up uncomfortably, before down again when some of your stomach is shown.

The miniskirt is just as bad, to a level where you want to hide. You’re used to having to wear clothing similar to this, but never this bad.

Changbin adjusts his T-shirt. “Uh… Are you good with that?”

You nod.

The stylists know what they’re doing, right?

It would be rude to question them, right?

You walk to Hyunjin’s side and stand in place next to him. The set of instructions for the shoot are given, and all you can focus on is your outfit.

“That’s interesting,” Hyunjin says, unable to hide his disdain. His upper lip curls before he smoothes out his expression. “That’s… Wow.”

“I know.” You swallow and fiddle with the fabric again. “Is it that bad?”

Hyunjin nods. “Yes. Very.”

You curl into yourself, shoulders slumping. “Thanks, Hyunjin.”

“The colour compliments your eyes,” he mutters once he catches the look on your face. Hyunjin hooks an arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to him. “I think you look good.”

“But she’s not comfortable,” Seungmin bluntly says. He gives Hyunjin a dirty look. “Obviously.”

“No! I’m fine!” You wave your hands in a desperate attempt to gather their attention before they went rampaging to the stylists. “They worked hard!”

“Yeah, but do you want people to see you in that?” Seungmin questions. When you falter over a response, he sighs. “Boundaries are important, even at work.”

Hyunjin hums. “He’s right. And that shirt is ugly anyways.”

Jisung approaches, scowling slightly. “Aren’t we starting soon? Where are the others?”

“In a little bit. They’re still finishing preparations.” Jeongin leans down to touch his toes. 

“Hey.” Seungmin pokes Jisung. “Give her your shirt.”

Jisung flinches back, clutching at his torso. “What? Why?”

“She doesn’t like hers.” Hyunjin pinches the material of Jisung’s clothing. “Too much skin.”

“I’m not wearing anything under this shirt.” Jisung winces and rolls out his shoulders. “Do we…”

Jeongin scoffs. “Wow. You’re not going to give her your shirt? You just want to stare at boobs, don’t you? You’re so misogynistic.”

“That’s not what that means.” You press a hand to your forehead. “Jeongin-“

“Fine then!” Jisung huffs. He strips his shirt off and flings it at you, putting his hands on his hips defiantly. “Happy? I love women!”

The staff all stare at him in confusion, while a couple of them shield their eyes with their hands.

“Jisung-“ You hold out his clothes, but Seungmin blocks you.

“Put it on!” Seungmin orders.

“But what about me?” Jisung pouts. “I can’t just be half-naked for the recording.”

“I mean, you could…” Hyunjin trails off. “Stay would love it.”

You step into a changing room, returning with Jisung’s shirt on. You hand him yours, which he struggles to put on. He keeps sticking his arms through the boob window, and Jeongin has to help him dress.

“It’s horrifying,” Hyunjin announces once Jisung is finished. 

“I think you look good,” Felix vaguely says as he walks past. He’s staring at his phone.

“Which one of us?” Jisung puffs out his chest in what’s clearly an attempt to make you smile.

It works.

Felix glances up, eyes widening. “Are you allowed to wear that?”

“They put her in it, so it’s their fault.” Hyunjin shrugs and runs his tongue over his front teeth. “What about the miniskirt?”

“I’m not wearing that!” Jisung hisses. “This is bad enough!”

“Felix!” Hyunjin sings, chasing after the other man. Felix looks back over his shoulder before sprinting away.

So when Chan returns to the group, Changbin following closely behind, he taps his chin.

“The stylists are getting very… unique,” he carefully says. Chan’s eyes flick over Jisung in your shirt, and Felix, who had been wrestled into the miniskirt. 

You frown, wearing Felix’s baggy pants. “Sorry. I can- I can put it back on if you want.”

Chan waves a hand, expression softening. “It’s fine. The camera we needed for the water scene broke anyway. We’re going home.”

Felix grumbles to Changbin about the stupid skirt as they trudge off to the van. Chan catches your arm before you can leave with them.

“And I’ll tell the staff that you aren’t okay with those clothes for filming,” he assures you softly. “Tell us if you’re ever uncomfortable with something, okay?”

“I will,” you promise him.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Long days were normal. Many long days with a lack of sleep were not. Chan usually tried to give everyone enough rest and time to themselves, but the last couple of days had been stressful.

So you find yourself with nine hours of sleep in the last three days. You have no idea how you’re even functioning, let alone cheery enough for a fan meet.

You’re seated across from a girl with curly brown hair. Her gaze keeps darting from your face, down to her lap nervously.

As you uncap your pen, you smile as warmly as you can. Considering the circumstances, that is. The lack of sleep and pure exhaustion were really getting to you.

“I- I saw the clips of your latest concert,” she nervously says. “I- You’re very good.”

“Thank you.” You scribble your signature out on what she wanted before sliding it across the table. “Anything else to sign?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I- You and Felix are close.”

Your tired brain couldn’t tell where she was going with this. So you hum. “Yeah. We are.”

She seems giddy at that. “R-Really?”

“Yeah. We all are.” You look over to your right, where Changbin appears in deep discussion with a fan about… bald eagles?

“But like… Close i-in which way?” She crosses one leg over the other.

You still can’t understand what she’s saying. It’s not wise of an idol to interact with someone and have no clue what’s happening, but here you are.

“Uh, a lot,” is all you respond with. “Do you have a favourite song, or album?”

“But Felix g-grabbed your arm the other day.” Her head ducks down again as her cheeks flush. “I- I saw videos of it.”

“Oh!” Your eyebrows shoot up with the realization. “Um- Have you ever been to one of our concerts before?”

“You l-look happy together.” She ignores your question.

“So… Chk Chk Boom?” you weakly say. “It’s pretty good, right?”

She doesn’t seem to get the hint. “He smiles at y-you often.”

“Did I hear someone talking about me?” Felix teases as he bends down. He props his elbows down on the table, some of his hair falling into his face. 

“What are you doing over here?” you ask in bewilderment. Isn’t he supposed to be doing his own signings?

“I figured you could use the company.” 

Which is code for: You needed help so I’m here.

You relax into your chair, leaning back. “I appreciate it.”

“So what were we chatting about?” Felix asks, more alert than you for some reason. You blame it on the energy drinks he chugged with Jeongin.

The rest of the meeting goes by smoothly. When everyone loads into the van, Changbin makes room for you in the seat next to him.

“You okay?” he gently inquires. 

You nod and let your eyes flutter shut. “Just miss sleeping.”

Changbin chuckles lowly. “Yeah, so do I.”

“Don’t worry, everyone will get their naps,” Chan calls from the front. “Our schedule is free for the next week.”

Jisung whoops, and Hyunjin covers his ears and whines from beside him. 

“That means actually sleeping,” Chan sternly says. “Jisung, I’m talking to you. Don’t binge an entire show in a night.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “We all know he’s going to do it anyway.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Minho ominously mutters.

Everyone side-eyes him.

“What are you going to do?” you warily question him. 

Minho’s eyes glint. “That’s for me to know and for him to find out.”

Jisung clears his throat. “I think I’m going to bed early tonight. Anyone else doing the same?”

You shake your head and sigh. “No, I have a live to do.”

The others all murmur their excuses, while Minho narrows his eyes at you. You shift nervously under his gaze.

When you get off to your room, you make sure to brush out your hair. When prop your phone up and sit on your bed, tucking your legs beneath you.

You greet the fans as they come pouring in, making sure to touch on the topic on the fan meeting. You talk for a little bit about how grateful you are for everyone coming, before moving on to just chatting.

It’s always odd doing a live by yourself. There’s no engaging with someone else, and you have to either read off comments, or come up with conversation.

You’re too tired for the latter, so you go with the former.

“Aw, my hair looks nice?” You beam at your phone, reaching up to your head. “Thank you very much.”

You read over a couple more rolls of comments on the screen before settling on another one to respond to. “No, I won’t give you spoilers. Nice try, though.”

You scrunch your nose up and adjust how you’re sitting. Everyone is going on about a new meme of Jeongin falling out of his chair. Some are asking you to recreate it, while others are asking if he’s okay.

“Yes, he’s fine,” you answer breezily. “It takes more than that to hurt him. He’s tougher than he looks.”

And time goes on. Your eyes are getting heavier and heavier, but you don’t want to turn it off. The more content you give them now, the less they’ll talk about you and Felix.

If any shipping gets too popular, you have to do damage control and-

“Hello, Stay!” Minho waves with both hands as he pops into frame. He blinks a couple times as the comments scream his name before his lips curl into a smile.

“What are you doing here?” You scoot over in case he wants to sit with you.

Minho remains standing. “It’s getting late. Do you know what time it is?”

There’s a string of people talking about air fryers, now. Others are warning you to run.

You straighten. “No, sorry. Is it really that late?”

“It’s past midnight,” he scolds gently. “It’s bed time. I already have Jisung sleeping, and it’s your turn.”

“But…” You don’t know how to voice your concerns. It feels as if speaking your worries aloud will make them true.

Minho says the goodbyes to your phone before shutting the live off. He scoops your phone up and slips it into your pocket before lifting you over his shoulder.

“Minho!” you shriek as he marches out the door. “What are you doing?”

“Rumours come with the job,” he says. He bounces you once, cutting off your protests. “The amount of times I’m shipped with Jisung is immense, but we’re fine. These things happen.”

“Yeah, there’s lots of that stuff.” You go limp and let him dump you in the bathroom. As soon as you’re on your feet, he hands you your toothbrush.

“See?” Minho raises an eyebrow. “You’ll be fine. And even if it does get out of hand, I’m sure Hyunjin would be glad to do something to get the attention off you.”

“You’re right,” you say around the toothbrush in your mouth. Minho waits patiently for you to spit into the sink before you’re back in his grasp.

“I don’t see why you made such a big deal about this,” you grumble as you change into pyjamas. His back is to you as you do so. “Why was Jisung so scared?”

He smirks at you, facing you again. “Wanna find out?”

You stare at him momentarily before sliding beneath your sheets. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Minho pulls the blankets up to your chin. He walks to the door, holding up your phone. “You’ll get this back in the morning after a chat with Chan about positive thinking.”

You groan and throw your head against the pillows. “You really are cruel!”

Minho laughs before flicking your lights off. He shuts the door softly.

Taglist:

@velvetmoonlght

[tojisun]

!! minors dni; simon x cam girl f!reader; kinda sexting; UNEDITED and RAMBLING // divider by @/plutism <3

yall know those ‘ask me’ thingies in instagram and how theyre not anonymous? mmmprmn thinkin about simon finally giving in and sends cam girl! reader replies (he’s not tech savvy, forgive him 😔)

the questions are always fashioned the same way, he’s noticed. you only ever post those, anyway, when you’re in the middle of editing a new video but it’s taking too long so to keep your loyal viewers interested, you entertain them with little questions.

“which toy next?” you posted, showcasing four different sex toys splayed on your bed—a purple sucking vibrator, that bullet vibrator you’ve made multiple videos on, a rainbow-coloured dildo, and another one that squirts which is simon’s favourite if he’s being honest.

you always did cum the hardest when you’re being pumped full. simon wonders how much more intense would it be if you were properly fucked and filled; stuffed continuously, repeatedly, until your pussy’s all wet and sensitive. until it takes—

overtaken by his desire, he gives in and he types out his answer, “a real prick would look better in you.”

he didn’t expect you to see it, let alone for you to reply, but you did and simon reads it with a huff.

> ok troll

i’d volunteer myself, really. <

> yeah right. like i can trust you

what? you want proof that i can make you feel good? <

your reply doesn’t come in and he knows that you must want the whole interaction to end there, but simon won’t let you—doll, he’s finally managed to talk to the girl he’s been fantasizing about, did you really think he’d let the opportunity pass? you don’t even know how many times he’s fucked his fist to the videos of you bullying a dildo in your sopping cunt or the ones of you squirting while you ride that saddled vibrator that punches out guttural moans from the base of your throat.

jesus, just thinking about you mewling and creaming, your skin shimmering with your sweat, has simon chubbing up in his sweats.

so he gets bolder, changing his accounts—both this and the one he’s used to subscribe to your site—so that you know it’s him. he uploads pictures, exposing enough of himself that it feels real and authentic, and begins to tack on messages to every tips he gives.

it takes about two months until you finally caved.

> so… youre not a troll :(

why the sad face? did you want me to be? <

> course not!

> hby? what do YOU want

simon licks at his chapped lips, his legs unconsciously spreading already.

how about pics? show you what i was volunteering? <

> uh

> you wanna send a dick pic?

yeah. evens out the relationship, don’t it? after all, i just about know how your pussy looks and how it squirts. <

> youre soooo weird LOL

> but sure yea why not ig

simon snorts because try as you may, you don’t sound unbothered at all. after all, he knows you’ve been looking back at him—you followed him back in his socials, you even respond to all his tips and messages, and one time you even moaned his alias out loud during your stream. really, you’re not subtle with your own interest at all.

he pulls his sweats down and takes a pic of his half-chub. it’s a little blurry, and the angle captures more of the tuft of hair than the way his cock’s all flushed and filling-out, but simon knows what a decent dick picture looks like—they’ve all received numerous from mactavish—and this one looks good enough so he sends it to you and watches as his message goes from delivered to seen.

you don’t reply right away, nor after three minutes—he knows because the commercials ended and his game’s back on—and simon wonders if you’re back to ignoring him when—

> oh

> thats a good dick

he laughs, booming.

oh so you want it now? <

a speech bubble appears, then it disappears, then it appears again. this happens for a while and it’s somewhat entertaining to simon, mirth filling him up. then, you finally send your reply and this time simon couldn’t stop the barked out laughter that rumbles from his throat because you sent him your address.

simon’s out the door in minutes, his bike keys clutched in his fist.

[saintobio]

₊˚✩ starlight.

pairings. l&ds xavier, fem!reader tags. 800+ wc. jealous bf!xavier, fluff, reverse hurt/comfort, main story long awaited revelry spoilers, altered some scenes, may or may not be inspired by his tender nights memory :’) dividers by strangergraphics.

xavier isn’t exactly the happiest when you returned to linkon city after being in the n109 zone. don’t get him wrong—he’s absolutely grateful that you came back safe and whole. it’s just that… he didn’t like how your eyes sparkled when you started mentioning his greatest adversary: sylus.

you’re obviously suppressing a smile too, as you reminisce the events that occurred between you and the onychinus leader. you’re particularly giddy about that moment at the auction, it seems, where you said you had to play the part of being sylus’s partner for the night.

dammit, xavier feels his chest tightening when he imagines those scenes in his head. he wants to cover his ears badly, but has no other choice but listen intently. all he can do is listen in silence and try to bottle every spark of jealousy that ignited within him. he has to pretend that he’s happy and proud of you, but then again, he just can’t freaking ignore the way your face lit up at the mention of sylus. 

xavier sighs as you continue your enthusiastic storytelling. fine, then. he sulks to himself. just have to get this day over with.

~

date night came, and as you walk through the city garden, you notice xavier’s silence grew more pronounced. you try to engage him, but his responses are rather curt, his usual warmth replaced by a cold distance. during dinner, even his favorite hotpot couldn’t lift his spirits. he would push the food around on his plate, barely having the appetite to eat.

huh? that’s new, you muse. xavier is usually the most excited to eat hotpot on a cold day.

when he takes you to your place later that night, the tension is palpable. you know you have to bring it up at that point. otherwise, this game of silence will never end.

“xav, is something wrong?” you try to ask in a soft, comforting voice. 

but xavier only shakes his head, forcing his usual endearing smile. “nothing’s wrong. you should go to sleep.”

~

that same evening, xavier sits at his desk, staring at his laptop screen for more than an hour. his fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitating before he finally types into the anonymous forum.

starlight123: what do you do if your gf keeps talking about another guy? i love her, but it’s driving me crazy. any advice?

he hits post and leans back, running a hand through his hair. the minutes ticked by, each one stretching longer than the last. then, the replies start coming in.

anonymous user: talk to her about it. anonymous user: maybe she doesn’t realize how it’s affecting you. anonymous user: communication is key, bro.

but one comment stood out, cutting through the well-meaning advice like a knife.

anonymous user: it's game over for you, man. girls like toxic boys who treat them like dirt. you're too nice. she probably already slept with him.

xavier’s heart sank.. he quickly closes the laptop, feeling an uncomfortable pang on his chest. is he really losing you to someone like sylus?

~

the next few days are torture. xavier stopped responding to your messages. he stopped commenting on your moments posts. he won’t even ask you to play kitty cards or catch plushies on the claw machines. and even if you see him around, he’s always distant, giving you brief, obligatory smiles. he still greets tara warmly, but with you, there’s always this thick wall in between. he's acting like a stranger, as if he doesn't care about you, as if he's not dating you...

agh, you can’t stand it anymore!

one night, you find yourself knocking on his door, needing desperate answers for your desperate questions.

xavier then opens the door, sweaty and out of breath. a dumbbell lay on his living room floor, and his hair is pushed back, revealing a flushed face.

“new hairstyle?” you ask, stepping inside and noticing the sudden eccentricity in his movements. “what are you doing, boyfriend?”

xavier’s cheeks are limned with a red tint as he looks away. “nothing.”

“are you trying to gain more muscles?” you press, amusement edging your voice.

at this, he lets out a defeated sigh and finally faces you. “do you prefer tall, muscular guys?” the sudden question came out of nowhere, until it was followed by another, and that’s when you started seeing the pattern. “do you… do you like bad boys more?” 

“xav, why are you asking me this?” crossing your arms, you tilt your head so his avoidant eyes would meet yours. 

“well, you can answer me first.” 

“not until you look me in the eyes!” 

still, he refuses to meet your gaze and his voice wavers with insecurity when he spoke, “it's okay, i get it. you do prefer guys like that.” his eyes stays on the floor, turning his face away. “if so, then i may not be like them, but i can still make you happy in my own little ways.”

your heart immediately melts at his words. it all makes sense now. him working out in the middle of the night, him styling his hair up, him trying to act like he doesn’t care about you—he’s trying to be sylus!

stepping closer, you chuckle and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a sweet kiss. “xavier, you’re the only one i like. i’ll never replace you.” you place another peck on his lips, then on his cheek, then on his nose. “besides, sylus is annoying. i prefer the presence of my very adorable golden retriever boyfriend!”

“you really mean it?” his puppy eyes stares at you earnestly.

your response is a confident nod. “i swear it. and, duh! lumiere is way hotter than him.”

his arms encircles your waist, holding you tightly as he lifts your chin and plants a tender kiss on your lips. the tension eventually melts away as you reassure him with your touch and your words. in that moment, all his jealousy and insecurity faded, now replaced by the warmth of your love. “you’re mine,” he reminds, nose nuzzling into yours. “i don’t want to share you with anyone else.” 

[focusonkayjay]

between the ride and the roses (3)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Word count: 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: argument, jungkook is mean, OC is mean. both have high egos.

A/N: part 3 is here <3 i'm having sm fun writing this. also, i got this anonymous ask which stated i was using chat-gpt for my stories. i didn't like the tone of their message so i blocked them. however, i just want to say i have not used chat-gpt for my stories. i take time out of my day to type this story because i really want to put content out there that people might enjoy reading. i want to make stories that i have always wanted to read, but never found. truthfully, i did use chat gpt for the names of a few flowers, plants and bouquet combinations though, because i'm not a professional florist and i have no idea about flowers. i hope that's understandable. anyways, thank u for reading. let me know your thoughts :)

part 3: blooming grudges

The sun is setting, painting the street in hues of orange and pink, but the peace you’re so badly yearning for is shattered by the rumble of motorcycles and boisterous laughter right outside your shop. It’s been a week since Jungkook’s shop had started running and it has surprisingly quickly become a hotspot for bikers to gather in the evenings. The constant noise and chaos spill over into your once-quiet corner of the neighborhood.

You have no idea what they do and what the point of all these gatherings are, but you dread it every single time you hear a bunch of men lounging outside your shop.

As the evening progresses, you’re in the middle of arranging a bouquet when the sharp crash of breaking pottery jolts you out of your work. Heart pounding, you glance outside and see one of Jungkook’s biker friends near the sidewalk through your window. Still confused, you stand up and storm out to see what the hell had happened.

Anger surges through your veins as you spot the man casually standing there as if he didn’t just knock over one of your handmade ceramic pots off the display stand that was right outside your shop. “What the hell is wrong with you??!!?!” you snap, glaring at the man and then at the jagged pieces of your pot just lying there, near his feet.

The biker barely spares you a glance, shrugging nonchalantly. “Relax. It’s just a pot.” he says.

“Just a pot?” you repeat, your voice rising. “Do you have any idea how much time and effort went into that? Or do you only care about things you can rev or ride?” you feel your heart thumping as your anger skyrockets.

Before the man can respond, Jungkook suddenly steps out of the crowd near his shop. His leather jacket gleams in the fading light, and his dark eyes flicker to the broken pot before landing on you. “What’s going on?” he questions, his voice low and calm, but there’s an edge of warning to it.

You point at the shards of pottery. “What’s going on? One of your friends just broke my pot and doesn’t even have the decency to apologize!” Jungkook looks at his friend, who just shrugs, then back at you. “It was an accident.” he dismisses, his tone clipped. “I’ll pay for it.” he continues and you watch his friend just leave the scene, completely unbothered.

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “Pay for it? Do you think that solves everything? This isn’t just about the pot, Jungkook. Every night, this street turns into a circus because of your shop. My customers can’t park anymore, and now your friends are trashing my things.” you begin, moving your hands as you speak, unable to remain calm anymore.

His jaw tightens, and he takes a step closer. “Look, I’m sorry about the pot, but don’t act like I’m the reason your shop isn’t doing well. Maybe it’s not the noise. Maybe people just don’t care about overpriced flowers.”

Your breath catches, his words cutting deeper than you expect. “Wow,” you say, your voice trembling with anger. “You really think you’re better than everyone, don’t you? Just because you’ve got your flashy bikes and your little gang of followers?” you ignore the way your heart twitches at how he had just disrespected you and your business.

His expression hardens. “Better than everyone? No. But at least I’m not the one blaming other people for my problems. You’re so focused on what’s wrong with my shop, but maybe the issue isn’t me. Maybe it’s you.”

Your fists clench at your sides. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve been here for years, building this business from the ground up. And you waltz in, turning this neighborhood into a mess, and act like you’re doing everyone a favor?” you see red as you fight with him, unable to contain the flow of words that are spilling out of your mouth.

Jungkook’s voice sharpens and he doesn’t hold back. “You think I don’t work hard? That I haven’t sacrificed everything to make this shop work? You don’t know anything about me. But sure, keep throwing stones from your little glass house.” he counters harshly.

“Oh so you can say anything about my business, but i can’t? You can talk about me like you know me, but i can’t?” There’s venom in your voice as you argue and Jungkook clenches his jaw, trying to calm himself down.

The tension between the two of you is suffocating and each word cuts like a blade. As an awkward silence fills the air, you shake your head. “You’re unbelievable.” you breathily say. “You don’t care about anyone but yourself.” you add.

“And you...” he fires back, “care so much about your damn shop that you can’t see past your own damn ego.” You look at him with your lips parted, unable to come up with a comeback. You feel your eyes sting and nothing makes sense anymore. You hate it here. You hate him.

Before you can respond, one of the bikers calls out to Jungkook, and he turns away, his shoulders tense. He doesn’t bother looking back at you and just leaves.

Fuming, you crouch down to pick up the broken shards of your pot. Your hands tremble as you scoop up the jagged pieces, and a sharp piece slices right through your finger. You hiss, dropping the shard as blood wells up from the cut. Your eyes tear up as you watch your finger bleed. You were so done with this man and his stupid shop.

Ignoring the sting, you finish cleaning up and head back inside, pressing a tissue to your finger. You flip the sign on your door, deciding to call it a day since you weren’t really in the mood to face any new customers. You retreat to your counter, where you slump into your chair, frustrated, exhausted and seething.

//

Inside Throttle and Torque, the atmosphere is much quieter, now that the bikers have left. Jungkook leans against the counter, his expression stormy as he thinks of the interaction he had with you 4 hours ago. Yoongi, Jimin, and Hoseok sit nearby, watching him with varying degrees of curiosity and amusement.

“You look like you’re about to punch something.” Jimin says, breaking the silence. Jungkook scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s that flower shop owner again. She’s impossible.”

“Y/N?” Hoseok grins. “What did she do this time?” he questions. Jungkook glares at him. “One of the guys broke her pot, and she went off like it was the end of the world. Then she starts blaming me for everything—says I’m ruining the whole street. Like it’s my fault her shop isn’t getting customers.” he speaks, his tone filled with annoyance.

“Isn’t it, though?” Jimin teases, earning a sharp look from Jungkook. Yoongi, raises an eyebrow. “Sounds like there’s more to it than just a pot.” he states.

“She doesn’t get it hyung...” Jungkook says, his voice growing louder. “She acts like she’s the only one who works hard, like I haven’t busted my ass to get this place running. And then she has the nerve to call me selfish? Like she knows anything about me.”

“Sounds like she hit a nerve.” Hoseok snorts, a smirk on his face. “Shut up,” Jungkook mutters, but the irritation in his voice betrays him. “She thinks she’s so perfect, but all she does is complain. It’s like she’s looking for reasons to hate me.” he rolls his eyes.

“Maybe she is.” Yoongi says, his tone thoughtful. “Or maybe you’ve already given her enough reasons to hate you.” he continues. The room falls silent, and Jungkook scoffs, pushing off the counter. “Whatever. She’s not worth it.” he dismisses, not wanting to think of you or the raging encounter he just had with you.

//

the next day; The morning sun spills through the large windows of your flower shop as you rearrange a fresh batch of chrysanthemums. Despite the beautiful blooms around you, there’s a heaviness in your heart. Last night’s argument with Jungkook replays in your mind, his sharp words still stinging.

The little bell above the door jingles, pulling you out from your trance. You turn to see a man walking in—a face you recognize from the group that always lingers outside Jungkook’s shop and sometimes with him as well. “Hi.” he says, his voice calm but kind. “Y/N, right?”

You blink in surprise. “Yeah… and you’re one of Jungkook’s friends, i suppose.” you say, moving away from the flowers as dry your hands on your apron. You notice how his eyes fall on the bandage wrapped around your finger, so you quickly hide it by crossing your arms over your chest. He pretends like he’s seen nothing and nods, his hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket. “I’m Yoongi. I came here because I wanted to talk to you, if you don’t mind.” he says, his voice tender.

Your instinct is to put up a wall, but something about his tone disarms you. “If this is about last night—”

“It is.” Yoongi interrupts gently. “But not in the way you think.” He steps closer, his gaze steady but non-threatening. “I’m here to apologize. On behalf of Jungkook. And… the idiot who broke your pot.”

You blink again, caught off guard. “You’re apologizing? Why?” you gulp, something about this, not sitting right with you. “Because he won’t.” Yoongi says with a faint smile, though his tone carries a hint of seriousness. “Jungkook’s stubborn. He knows he messed up, but he’s too proud to admit it outright. And, well, someone has to try to make things right.” he admits, blinking his eyes.

Yoongi observes your expression, noticing how you still look quite unconvinced. His face softens as he continues. “Jungkook’s not a bad guy, Y/N. He just… rough around the edges. Give him time. He doesn’t always know how to handle things. He gets defensive when he feels cornered.”

“Cornered?” you echo, frowning. “I wasn’t cornering him. I just wanted some peace.” you defend yourself. “I know.” Yoongi agrees. “And I think, deep down, he knows it too. But he’s been under a lot of pressure with the shop, and sometimes he lashes out without meaning to. Not that it excuses anything.” he adds quickly. “You didn’t deserve what he said. Or how he treated you. ”

His honesty surprises you, and for the first time, you feel a part of the weight lift off from your chest. “Why are you telling me this?” you suddenly ask, eyeing him even though, deep down you’re trying your best to believe everything this man says.

“Because I think you’re both better than this petty back-and-forth... interactions.” Yoongi says simply, shrugging. “And maybe, if you understand where he’s coming from, it’ll help. Or not. I don’t know. I just thought you deserved an actual apology, even if it’s not from him directly.” he finishes, flashing you a small, kind smile.

For a moment, you’re silent, processing his words. Then, to your own surprise, you smile faintly. “You’re a good friend, Yoongi.” you softly say, earning a chuckle from him as he scratches the back of his neck. “Someone’s gotta keep him in check.” he grins.

After a moment, he steps back towards the door, pausing before leaving. “Take care, Y/N. And if he steps out of line again, let me know. I’ll knock some sense into him.” he nods at you and you laugh lightly, the sound easing some of the tension in the room. “I’ll keep that in mind.” you say, waving at him.

//

Jungkook sits on the edge of the counter, a wrench in hand, intently focused as he works while Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi lounge around. The conversation flows between them, lighthearted at first, until Yoongi brings up his visit to your shop.

“So....” Yoongi begins casually, “I stopped by Y/N’s shop today.” he says. Jungkook freezes for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “What for?” he asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“To apologize.” Yoongi replies, leaning back in his chair. “On your behalf. Figured someone had to.” he adds. Jimin snickers, while Hoseok whistles low. “Apologizing for Jungkook? That’s new.” he laughs as Jimin gives him a high five.

“Very funny.” Jungkook mutters, but his attention stays on Yoongi. “What’d she say?” he questions and Yoongi shrugs. “She wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear your name, but we talked. She’s not as tough as she seems, you know. She’s just… tired. Your shop and the noise—it’s really messing with her.” he explains calmly.

Jungkook doesn’t reply, his jaw tightening. “And she’s hurt, by the way.” Yoongi adds, his tone sharper. “I noticed her hand. I guess she cut her finger while picking up the broken pieces of the pot your friend broke yesterday.” he explains.

The guilt that had been simmering in Jungkook since last night, suddenly boils over. “Why didn’t she say anything?” he snaps, more to himself than to his friends. “Maybe because you were too busy arguing with her to notice,” Yoongi retorts, his voice calm but firm. “She’s not your enemy, Jungkook. Stop treating her like one.” he says gently, hoping the younger one understands.

The room goes quiet, the weight of Yoongi’s words settling over them. Jimin and Hoseok exchange a glance, sensing the tension. Jungkook exhales heavily, tossing the wrench aside. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.” he admits quietly. “I just—” He stops, frustration lacing his voice.

“You don’t know how to back down,” Jimin finishes for him, a teasing edge to his tone. Jungkook glares at him but doesn’t deny it. Instead, he leans back against the counter, running a hand through his hair. “What else did she say to you?” he questions Yoongi. He smirks slightly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he asks, wiggling his brows.

Jungkook’s glare intensifies, and Yoongi chuckles. “Relax. She was civil. We just talked about you a little and that’s all. She thinks I’m the ‘good friend,’ by the way.” he smiles to himself.

The comment makes Jungkook’s stomach churn with something he doesn’t want to name—guilt, jealousy, maybe both. He stays quiet as the others laugh, his thoughts swirling.

He’s messed up, and he knows it. And now, the thought of you opening up to someone else, even Yoongi, twists something deep inside him. For the first time, he wonders if the damage he’s caused can ever be repaired.

//

It’s just another day—or at least you hope it will be. After the pot-breaking incident a week ago, things between you and Jungkook have only grown tenser. Though Yoongi apologized to you on behalf of his actions, you were still very annoyed by the way things still hadn’t changed.

His friends still gather outside his shop in the evenings, their bikes parked so close to your store it’s nearly impossible for customers to walk in without squeezing past them. You’ve been trying to keep your head down, avoiding any unnecessary interaction with Jungkook.

However, despite the ongoing tension you can’t help but notice how hardworking Jungkook is. For a brief moment, you feel a twinge of guilt as you think about the bad blood between you guys. Maybe you need to start putting your differences aside and try to get along with him.

You shake your head, telling yourself not to think about that. You leave that thought for another day, when you’re less busy and have more time to waste.

A new shipment of flowers and pots arrives after about an hour. You’re juggling the chaos of directing the delivery workers when disaster strikes. One of the crates slips from a worker’s hands, scattering flowers and dirt all across the curb—and, unfortunately, onto one of the shiny motorcycles parked outside Jungkook’s shop.

You barely have time to assess the mess before Jungkook storms out. His face is a mask of irritation, and his voice cuts like a blade. “What the hell is this?” he immediately snaps, gesturing at the scattered soil and dirt-streaked bike.

You sigh, already bracing yourself. “It was an accident. We’ll clean it up right away.” you calmly say, knowing damn well this wasn’t something you were about to get to away with. “An accident?” he repeats, his tone laced with disbelief. “You really need to start taking responsibility, Y/N. You can’t just keep saying it’s an accident every time you screw something up.” he angrily says.

Your frustration bubbles over. “Excuse me? This is the first time I’ve caused any inconvenience to you. Meanwhile, your friends park their bikes outside my shop every evening, blocking the entrance, and I don’t say a thing!” you argue.

“Oh, here we go...” Jungkook retorts, his voice rising. “You’re always whining about the bikes. Maybe if you managed your deliveries better, this wouldn’t have happened.” he scoffs loudly.

“Don’t turn this on me!!” you snap, stepping closer. “You act like this street belongs to you and your gang of bikers. Maybe if you had a little consideration for others, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation!” you stomp your feet at the last word, wanting this interaction to just end. But were you going to be the first one to stop? no.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he might say something even harsher. But he just shakes his head, his expression dark. “You know what? Forget it. Clean up your mess and stay out of my way.” He coldly says as he turns around and walks back into his shop, leaving you standing there with your hands clenched into fists.

//

After the chaos of the day, you’re sitting in your shop long after closing time, staring blankly at the broken pieces of another pot that lays lifeless on a piece of paper on your counter —a casualty of the earlier mishap. You close your eyes, feeling an overwhelming sense of exhaustion.

Yoongi’s voice echoes in your mind from the other day, when he’d come into your shop to apologize on Jungkook’s behalf after the first pot-breaking incident. “Jungkook’s not a bad guy.” Yoongi had said, his voice calm and reassuring. “He’s just… rough around the edges. Give him time.”

You had wanted to believe him. For a moment, you even thought there might be a chance for you and Jungkook to coexist peacefully. But now? Now you feel stupid for ever entertaining the idea. Jungkook has made it perfectly clear that he has no intention of meeting you halfway.

You sigh, rubbing your face. You didn’t like how this whole thing had been affecting you. It was draining and just sooooo not worth it.

Forcing yourself to get up, you clean up one last time and then proceed to lock up the shop, so that you can finally head home. As you begin your walk home, you notice how the streets are quiet, the faint hum of distant traffic is the only sound accompanying your footsteps.

Your thoughts are heavy, clouded by everything that’s happened. The arguments, the pot-breaking, the way Jungkook’s words today had stung more than you wanted to admit. You wonder if you’re overthinking things, but the lump in your throat says otherwise.

You hug your jacket tighter against the cool night air, eyes focused on the pavement in front of you as you walk briskly towards your house.

//

Jungkook stands outside his shop, ready to lock up he watches you walk down the stairs at your entrance and cross the road, not noticing his presence at all. His chest feels tight, an unfamiliar mix of guilt and something he can’t quite name. He doesn’t like how things escalated today. He doesn’t like the way your voice cracked when you argued with him.

As much as he hates to admit it, he knows he’s been unfair. It wasn’t just about the dirt on the bike or the delivery mishap—it was the way you stood up to him, pointing out how inconsiderate he and his friends had been. You weren’t wrong.

He steps away from his shop, just to get a clearer view of your walking form. He watches intently, observing the way your shoulders are hunched slightly as if the weight of the world rests on them. The sight stirs something protective in him. It’s late, the streets are too quiet, and he knows better than anyone the kind of dangers that can lurk around in the dark.

For a split second, he considers calling out to you so that he can offer you a ride home. But then his pride kicks in, the argument from earlier replaying in his head. His ego won’t let him take that step—not yet.

Instead, Jungkook makes a quick decision. He leaves his bike parked outside his shop, shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and starts following you from a distance. You walk briskly, your mind elsewhere, completely unaware of the quiet footsteps trailing behind you. Jungkook keeps his distance, making sure to stay out of your line of sight.

His gaze scans the dimly lit street, the quiet unnerving even to him. He can’t help but feel protective as he watches your small frame move through the shadowy paths. Every now and then, he glances around, hyper-aware of his surroundings.

He follows you for several blocks, his pace matching yours but always a few steps behind. When you pause to adjust the strap of your bag or check the time on your phone, he stops, leaning casually against a lamppost or pretending to examine something in a shop window.

You finally reach your building, pausing to fumble with your keys at the front door. Jungkook stays back, watching as you disappear inside. Only when he hears the click of the door locking do his shoulders relax slightly. He lets out a long breath, rubbing his nape as he turns to head back towards his shop.

As he walks back, his mind is restless. He thinks he’s ridiculous for following you all the way home just to make sure you reach safely. “Why do you care so much?” he mutters to himself, kicking a loose pebble on the sidewalk. But he already knows the answer, even if he’s not ready to admit it.

When he finally reaches his shop, his bike still waiting where he left it, Jungkook glances once more in the direction of your shop. A strange mixture of guilt and something warmer lingers in his chest. He doesn’t know what to do about it, so he just sighs, climbs onto his bike, and decides to head home.

While he rides back home that night, a quiet resolve settles in his chest—a growing realization that maybe, just maybe, he owes you more than just a silent apology.

<- part 2 // part 4->

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

It was halfway through his shift the next day, just after he'd come back from lunch, that the anonymous tip came through. Dick had frozen when he heard it, but only slightly because the others were brushing it off as a prank call.

"'Blockbuster's after someone named Oracle,'" Officer Diaz had scoffed, "What a joke. Aren't kids supposed to know that their stupid prank calls clog the system? What if someone who actually had useful information had needed to call, huh?"

Dick didn't mention that that isn't how the tip system works, nor did he eve attempt to scold the officer for brushing it off, no matter how stupid it seemed. No, instead, he was stuck in his thoughts.

Blockbuster is after Oracle. Why is he after Oracle? It doesn't make sense! No one in Bludhaven, save for himself, should no who she is! Besides, he'd kept all of the attention on himself. No one was able to even think about the heroes or rogues in Gotham without him knowing! Or, so he'd thought. How does Blockbuster know Oracle's name? More importantly at the moment was who sent the tip.

There was another scoff from one of the others. Did he say that out loud? "Look, I know you're new and everything, but shouldn't you know the mean of 'anonymous'?"

He forced himself out of his head, rubbing his neck with his left hand with a fake smile. "Yeah, I do. I guess I'm just a bit out of it today."

"Well, get your head back in the game," Detective Soames snapped, hitting a file on the back of Dick's head, "File that for me, then file the rest on my desk."

"Yes, sir," Dick took the file, ignoring the snickers and snide remarks from his coworkers.

He knows he's not going to be able to fully focus on anything for the rest of the day, possibly not even until after he finds out who sent that tip and how Blockbuster knows Oracle's name.

Oracle. Dick knows she can handle herself, but he doesn't like the fact that anyone knows her name. Not even B knows about Oracle! Babs had spent so much time and energy keeping her online persona from B so that she could have at least something of her own that Dick had taken it upon himself to erase traces connecting him to Oracle. She didn't deserve to have Batman on her ass, nor did she deserve to have Nightwing's enemies go after her!

He shook himself back into the present with a soft sigh. He'll call Barbra as soon as he gets home.

***

"Danny!" Dick calls into the apartment, knowing full well that the kid is in the kitchen, "I'm home!"

"Welcome back," Danny responds from where he's standing at the stove. He, Dick realizes, does not sound happy.

He hangs his coat up on the hooks he installed beside the door, his shoes going on the rack below them. "You good? You sound a bit upset?"

"I am upset." Danny, after getting comfortable around him, has stopped sugar-coating his words, being brutally honest. Dick blinks. "I was going to message Tim, but I saw a lack of apologies from you."

Oh. Dick had meant to do what Danny said last night and apologise to that Tim kid for snapping at him, but he had been a lot more tired than usual and it had slipped his mind. "I was going to use my phone?"

"You don't have his number."

Another thing Dick had come to learn about Danny in the few weeks they'd been living together was that he can't be lied to. He somehow picks up on lies, so even Dick's best efforts - that have fooled even Batman! - are always thwarted.

"I meant to," Dick said, sitting on one of the new barstools at he island counter, "But I was really tired last night."

Danny sighed. "Because you were out longer than you're now used to." He turned the burner off, moving the pan to sit on the hotpad beside it. "You're body's gotten used to only being out for eight hours during the day and six hours at night. You going out for eight hours last night wore you out more than usual because you're no longer used to your seventeen hour work days."

Dick tilted his head, accepting the bowl of soup he was given. "But it's only been a few weeks?"

"It only takes eighteen days for your body to get used to a routine." He said, placing a bowl of homemade rolls on the island. "After about sixty-six days, it becomes habitual."

"But it hasn't been sixty-six days."

"No, but it has been twenty-one days."

He hesitated for a moment. "Has it really been only that long?" Then, "Have you been counting?"

Danny blushed, sitting beside Dick with his own bowl of soup. "I've been keeping track of your schedule, which means I gotta keep a calendar. I haven't been counting on purpose."

Dick smiled, eating the soup. As usual, it was really good. The first week of Danny's stay, he'd asked where he'd learned to cook, but Danny had given a non-answer, saying only that his parents couldn't make anything edible that wasn't fudge or cookies.

After they had both finished eating, Dick's portions and appetite being larger than Danny's because of the calories he burns as Nightwing, they settled into a nice quiet. Dick had changed from his uniform into sweats and a T-shirt while Danny had chosen a movie. Then, Dick cleaned up dinner and Danny changed into a hoodie and sweats.

"We still need to take you shopping," Dick pointed out when they were both sitting on the couch, ready to start the movie.

Danny shook his head. "Letting me stay here is already enough. Besides, your old clothes work perfectly fine."

"But you're room's so empty! And my clothes don't even fit you!"

There was a pause like Danny was thinking. Dick had the feeling he might not like whatever was going to be said next.

He was right.

"I'll let you take me shopping next week," Danny agreed, "if we go to Gotham tomorrow so that you can apologise to Tim in person."

Dick's jaw twitched. He didn't want to go to Gotham. Going to Gotham meant that he'd inevitably run into Bruce. He wanted to stay far away from that man.

Then again, he'd promised Alfred to come by some time. And, it'd be nice to see Barbra and Jim again. Maybe he could have Alfred make sure Bruce wouldn't be in the Manor?

"So?" Danny promted.

He sighed. "You're evil, y'know that?"

His grin said it all. "I could be so much worse."

"Please don't."

"Don't give me a reason."

Part 9 Part 11

[dollgxtz]

My first and only statement on all the accusations

Hello, I’m sure most of you are aware of the accusations about me and some of the stories I posted on my account. This post is not only an apology post, but an accountability post that details everything that happened from beginning to end. Everything will be here, so I will not be making more posts about this unless it’s to direct to this one.

Adding a tw now for suicide baiting, death threats and mentions of razors. So sorry but it must be included.

First I just wanted to say, no I wasn’t avoiding any of this. When this all started I was still in the middle of finals week, and I don’t live on tumblr 24/7. I had to focus on my finals to ensure I can get my degree and graduate. That was my number one priority. If anyone was blocked or comments were restricted during that time, it was my mostly my irl friend ensuring I wasn’t consumed by tumblr and could focus on my finals. I was already under a lot of stress and she offered to take over until I was finished with finals.

I was also getting death threats (people telling me to skin myself I alive and to jump). So she was ensuring that when I returned to my own blog, I would not see such triggering content. I have a history with suicide attempts and this was necessary for my mental health. The appropriate people were unblocked and remain unblocked to this day.

I always intended to make a statement, I just prioritized my real life first. It also took time to craft the post you are seeing now. I wanted it to be authentic, no misinformation, and well written.

So, as far as plagiarism goes, yes I did plagiarize specifically 3 of zombiekillerbiceps stories. I can’t actually remember the names of them and the author has removed their account from the site. But on my end specifically “Getting Closer”, “Edge of Control” and “Thrills” were not my own writing. Before they deleted their account I had already reached out via dm and apologized. We came to an understanding. I do not know why they deleted their account but they essentially said in DMs they accepted my apology and wanted to put this behind us but they were very hurt that I had copied them.

Edit: I found the post she made calling me out and will attach it.

As far as His Watchful Eye goes, the only plagiarism that took place was specifically the first chapter of it and only the first chapter. The first chapter of Something Permanent and His Watchful Eye are very similar. The remaining 13 chapters are my own writing and ideas. I have already reached out to @explorevenus and apologized. She has responded and made her own statement regarding it if you want to go and read it.

The only reason it was in anon is because this account (dollgxtz) is my side blog. I couldn’t figure out how to send a non anonymous message without exposing my main blog, so anon was the best thing. I didn’t want people sending death threats too that one too. I should’ve put my username in the anon, but it was already very late for me and I hadn’t slept in about 26 hours. I just wasn’t thinking very clearly and for that Venus I am also very sorry.

@manika-whims (the person that first wrote about all this) will remain blocked and some of her followers because I do suspect it was that group of people telling me to die. Manika wrote a very long post as she was upset that I “mischaracterized” Xavier in His Watchful Eye, called me a bitch and a loser because of a fictional man in a fictional story, and I will not entertain such immaturity. Full stop.

One of the anons that sent the suicide bait also called me a bitch and a waste of space. It was just too similar.

I also got this one. It’s too graphic to show the entirety of it.

I apologize for the plagiarism. But I will never apologize for writing characters the way I do or for writing dark content. It’s just not that serious. After she posted that I started getting these death threats and more.

You had every right to call me out for plagiarism Manika, but I stand my decision to keep you blocked. It had nothing to do with plagiarism accusations or me hiding from them, but I do believe you egged on your audience to come attack me over a fictional story and for that reason you will never be unblocked. I’ve attached screenshots below of the entire exchange. This is not to deflect from my own actions. This is simply to explain why she is blocked. She will say it’s because I was trying to hide from this but that is not true. I am just very sure the death threats came from her or her audience. This isn’t to say that she absolutely did but just in case, for my own mental health and safety I had to have them blocked.

Now that that’s discussed, I would like to address my readers and any future readers of mine. The plagiarized stories “Getting Closer” “Thrills” and “Edge of Control”. have been deleted and will remain deleted. Those of you asking for copies, please do not. They are not my writing nor my own works. Any remaining single work story on my blog is my own work and 100 percent my own ideas. My masterlist has been updated to reflect this as well.

When I first made my blog and posted those stories, I was a very insecure writer. I did not think I was truly capable of writing or making a good story. I did those things out of insecurity and not feeling good enough. But as time went on, I began to create my own stories and realize that I can write if I put my mind to it. These are not excuses, only explanations. Nothing excuses my behavior.

If you want to defend me, that is your own choice. I ask that you do not though in terms of plagiarism because I ultimately did plagiarize and that is 100 percent wrong of me to do. But in terms of AI usage accusations, these are not true. I have never and never will use AI to write.

I have spent countless hours writing chapters for His Watchful Eye, pulled all nighters, and even lost sleep making this story. I have timestamps in google docs that show me editing and writing my own story. I didn’t even know AI had advanced to the point that you can write fully blown novels. But make no mistake, Ai checkers are not reliable. I had an incident in my first year of college where a paper I wrote got flagged for 77 percent ai generated content. That paper was written 100 percent by me over countless hours and still got flagged. It was a very scary time in my life and for that reason alone I will never use AI.

If you want to unfollow me, please do so. If you want to block me, please do so. I would never hold that against anyone and am not mad at anyone for doing so. Just don’t come in my anon box telling me to jump, don’t message me rude or disgusting messages telling me to die. I am a human, I am a real person behind the screen. What I did was wrong but you are no better telling someone to kill themselves. Please just block me.

All in all thanks for reading. If you unfollow, thanks for being here. If you don’t, thanks for being here. If you want to be removed from any taglists, please just message me. You will not be blocked. Just removed from any future taglists! I have vowed to only post 100 percent of my own content from here on out, so if you stay I can promise you will only be reading my own work.

I am no longer the insecure writer that I once was, I now know my abilities and am confident enough to make my own stories. I have a 240,000 word fic out right now, I genuinely am still shocked I have done that. Writing has become a joy for me and I will not stop now. I should’ve never been afraid to make mistakes or be bad at it. I’m sorry to the people I hurt, my readers, and anyone reading this in the future. I am still growing and learning from my mistakes, and this has been the biggest lesson I will never forget.

Plagiarism is wrong and hurts authors. If you are reading this and have done so as well, please rethink your decisions and take them down, just as I have done.

I love interacting with you all, when you send me asks and messages about HWE or any of my original single fics. It is amazing getting to explain stuff or gush with you guys over the things that I have truly written. I truly love being an author and want my future as one to be honest and communicative.

The comments on this will be monitored, but not restricted. Voicing your thoughts is okay as long as they are respectful and not a direct threat to me or anyone’s life. Questions are okay as well and I will answer to the best of my ability. Please no:

insulting me or any of the people mentioned in this post (manika, venus, zombie, etc)

death threats or suicide baiting anyone

I want this to be a mature and honest discussion, and that can’t happen if I allow such comments. Despite what has been said about or to me, I do not want to replicate any insults/drama on my own blog. You can voice your displeasure or opinions without name calling.

Same goes for any messages or anon box messages you all may send to anyone involved here. We are all real people with feelings. Keep that in mind please before you message anyone.

We all make mistakes. Without mistakes, we cannot grow as people. It’s what we do after we make those mistakes that truly attest to our character. And this is what I’ve chosen to do. Lay it all out for my readers and the rest of the LADS fandom to see, apologize to the people I hurt and only write my own stories from here on out. Thank you to the readers and friends who approached me with kindness and encouraged me to keep writing authentically. And thank you all for reading, I wish all of you the best in life 🤍

-Umi ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

[ivysangel]

expanding on this post except it's where dick, roy, jason, and wally fall in the frat ranking and why (this is just for fun, don't take it too seriously)

DICK

is ranked number one every year until he graduates (duh) because he's a borderline nympho and can't go a single night without getting his dick wet

pledges aspire to be him but he's seriously contemplated attending a sex addicts anonymous meeting because he skipped half his classes last semester to fuck girls on greek row and his grades suffered

has a collection of underwear he steals from girls to keep as trophies and had to change the spot where he keeps them because one of his frat brothers found them and went around the house telling everyone that dick wore women's panties

fucked that guys ex to spite him and got away with it because he's super hot and also the frat president (defintely a legacy pledge too)

has told girls "i love you" and "you're the only one for me" to get in their pants and has either ghosted or messaged them "it's not you, it's me" immediately after leaving their dorm

there are multiple hate posts about him in the gotham university subreddit and all of the upvotes are from girls he’s fucked

ROY

ranked in the lower half of the top 10 but is on a mission to break top 5

gets a lot of play just from being hot but also keeps a list of girls dick rejects so he can be the first to console them and subsequently get in their pants, has "i can make you feel better"ed his way into many hook ups

has a thing for girls with dark hair who play hard to get and has unironically sent to the frat group chat "i need a goth bitch in my life"

scared away multiple girls by wanting to fuck them in the ass and always follows it up with "aw come on??? it was a joke!" even though it's not a joke

came too fast once as a freshman and got nicknamed speedy

is still bitter about it and sometimes sends to the gc "lasted 2 hours, who's speedy now?" and everyone's like "still you."

JASON

isn't ranked at all and not because he doesn't get any play, just because he doesn't kiss and tell

fully thinks the ranking is corny but also takes pride in knowing that if his bodycount was made public he wouldn't be at the absolute bottom

hasn't slept with that many girls but has had so many blowjobs that he's sometimes wondered if his dick will start pruning like wet fingers

felt dumb wondering that so he doubled up on his bio classes the next semester and then hooked up with his ta because she was hot and smart

is like the only guy in the frat that cares about safe sex and has had to let his brothers know on multiple occasions that their junk isn't supposed to be red or itchy, and has had the pleasure of accompanying more than a few of them on trips to the std clinic

never tells anyone that he's dick's adoptive brother, so every time they go home together over break and he decides to text a girl, she always responds with, "you're not gay?"

WALLY

would be ranked low because he's a loser and has zero game/cannot function normally around hot girls and will make a fool of himself 97% of the time but his oral skills cancel it out so he's somewhere in the middle

is one of the first places girls go after breaking up with their shitty bf's because he's sweet and will go down on them for hours without expecting anything in return

once had a conversation with jason where he reffered to his girls as clients and jason said he "made it sound like prostitution"

once had a conversation with jason where he said his jaw was getting tired and he was thinking about charging for his “service” and jason said, "that would be actual prostitution"

has cum too quick on multiple occasions but didn't get a nickname because nobody was surprised

once hooked up with another ginger, and roy had to sit him down to tell him that it was fundamentally wrong and that he was never allowed to do it again or else he'd be kicked out of the frat

[redcherrykook]

────𐙚 inevitable transition (a)

────୨ৎ────

content: cheater!jungkook

note from cherry: i've spent the past days horribly anxious and with all this nervous energy, i channeled this angsty fic. I hope it hurts in the rightest ways.

────୨ৎ────

Waking up to a silent phone.

Ordinary buzzing of your alarm and sheer nothingness after. The other side of the bed was left empty, touseld, not unusual. He does wake up earlier than you do, does have a tight schedule.

Your phone remained empty.

A routine you had gotten familair with recently.

Your "thinking about you baby" and "I love you my angel" texts have disappeared into thin air. Merged with the chirping of birds that are only audible for the ones who wake up early enough to witness them.

In actuality, they have been transfered to the screen of another.

Her arguably beautiful face lights up in the morning, greeted by his profile picture. Him, him and his doberman. For her, it did not matter when she woke, he'd been there. Left his traces, given security.

You knew this, yet he still kissed you with the same lingering smile, spit the same "love you" when met with your presence.

It had become routine after all, to behave like lovers.

Which explains why, when Jungkook changed his profile photo from him and you sharing a kiss, you did not question it. Brushed over it, like he did every time he came home late.

Until the lights started to give out as well, the apartment he came back to had turned dim. A house, simply that.

Jungkook no longer felt home.

His arms had not lost their strength and yet, an embrace had never felt weaker. A kiss never duller.

It seemed almost too perfect, how he'd put on a show- pretend as though all these miniscule things didn't turn into a portrait of his betrayal, did not hold any weight to them. An accumilation of odd details. If you didn't know better, he seemed close to oblivious.

"You're overthinking it" his voice ringed, filling your ears with a sentence that should have been reassuring, should have put your racing heart at ease, lowered your cortisol.

In contrast, that is far from what it had done to you. It should have been obvious why he started referring to you with your full name, should have been evident why it took him longer to respond, longer to like your posts and even longer to message first.

Well aware of who he was talking to when it showed he is online but your text still read delivered.

It was right before your teary eyes.

The livingroom clock ticks, time will pass recklessly, without control. The minutes will go by anyways.

You grew into the habit of reminiscing times of a near past- you had been his only once. When there had not been another number to dial, a selfie to open, a giggle to share.

Bittnernes from your morning coffee mingled with the question, if that reality ever existed in the first place or if- maybe, he has been awaiting a chance to escape, replace, all along.

'I'm so attached to you'- a simple string of a unkept words that have forgotten their true integrity somewhere along allure and temptation of another. He hadn't meant it, nor could he bare the slight drop in the corner of your diluded smile- one which used to possess the property of igniting a spark inside his chest.

Jungkook's attachment is mirroring a sticker stuck to the back of ones phone, peeling away from continued usage, drained of its color, barely grasping the surface. Simultaneously, it was however, no more than the remainders of its glue that you will never be able to rid yourself of- it would always be part of you.

You have been forgotten before- have blended into the anonymity of a growing circle when on your part, it has only been you two. an us. it would stay that way for you, for as long as your lungs work, as long as your heart pumps.

[pippin-katz]

Jayden, George & Cameos

Alright, maybe this is me being presumptuous, but I feel like I need to say something. I’m going to offer my two cents about the cameo situation.

I did not buy a cameo when George did it, but upon asking someone who did, they costed £40. The price of the joint cameo is evidently £80.

Is that too high of a price?

If you thought £40 for George’s cameo was fine, then you have to say “no”.

George by himself was £40. If Jayden made his own by himself, it would probably also be £40. Therefore, if you add them together, you get £80.

People need to understand that while they might have fun with the cameos, they are still working. Recording videos like that is exhausting, and if you don’t think so, you’ve clearly never done it. I have recorded reaction videos and after thoughts and stories for years, and I still get exhausted if I have to do a multiple part story, or do it over and over until I’m satisfied.

Now, I know a lot of people are peeved more about the phrasing of these joint cameos as a “gift for the fans” when the price might be out of budget for a lot of people.

But if you are throwing a tantrum over it, you need to sit the fuck down, and check your damn privilege.

It is a gift.

They don’t have to do this. They literally don’t. They don’t have to interact with us. They don’t have to post anything. They owe you nothing.

Instead, they have taken the time out of their days, their schedules, whatever they might be busy with, or even if they’re relaxing, and they’ve decided to record video messages for you.

Not to mention, do you even understand what they are putting themselves in risk of emotionally or mentally?

The very first thing that came to a LOT of people’s minds when this was announced was: “I hope no one asks them to kiss because we’ll never get Payneland.”

If you didn’t think that, congratulations! You have apparently been fortunate enough not to encounter what real Internet behavior is like. Or maybe you’re new to a fandom space, and this is your first time! Great!

You might be thinking: “No one would actually do that; at least not in this fandom!”

But the truth of the matter is that there are many people who would and probably WILL do that.

The anonymous nature of the Internet has enable millions, and I mean millions, of people to act on and voice their most disgusting and disturbing thoughts. The content or person does not always reflect on the people who digest or interact with it. There are monsters everywhere; they are in every space whether you encounter them or not.

By being online all of us open ourselves up to the risk of people attacking us or exposing us to things we do not enjoy or want. For people of any level of fame, it’s multiplied tenfold.

George and Jayden can turn off direct messages, block people, mute tags, and whatnot, so they can avoid most attempts to reach them. By offering these cameos, they are giving a direct route for people to type whatever the hell they want into their message, and whether they like it or not, they’ll probably be reading it.

This is an open invitation for those awful people to request anything, to say anything, to ask anything, even if they report it and don’t respond, they’ll likely see it.

Invasive questions about their sexualities, their relationships, their personal lives. Disgusting thirst messages. Disturbing requests asking for specific things to act as a replacement or substitute for what we would’ve liked to see in the show.

Anything and everything you can think of is possibly something they will encounter, and they’re willing to take that risk to give you something special. To talk directly to you, even if it’s only for a minute.

It’s become increasingly clear, to me at least, that Jayden is a sensitive soul. Not in a “can’t take a joke” way, or in any condescending way. He’s just kind. He’s kind in a way that is taken advantage of in online spaces. He’s also young. A lot of this is still new to him.

He apologizes like it’s his fault if his stream chat gets some bad people in it. He was talking about how he wanted to continue playing Detroit: Become Human really badly, but felt like we would be upset if he didn’t stream his entire play-through. He asked for a list of names of people who support him on Twitch, their usernames and actual names, because he wanted to keep track of them.

Jayden was really excited about the joint cameos. He looked so thrilled to talk about it, and was looking forward to hanging out with George, and doing this for fans.

When fans turned around and yelled about prices, it probably crushed him! Instead of reciprocated excitement, he got bitterness and hate. And for something that he might not even have control over, mind you.

It feels like he can never do enough to make fans happy.

It’s not his fault the show was canceled, but he probably feels just as bad about it as we all do! It’s disappointing! It’s upsetting! And he wanted to do it! But he can’t, and that has to feel frustrating as someone passionate about what they do.

It’s not his fault some fans are toxic or judgmental of every interaction he has with his community. It’s not his fault that people spread hate.

But it probably feels like he can at least put a stop to it by not continuing to do any of it. If he just stops streaming, no toxic chats. If he stops talking to fans, no people complaining about favoritism.

I don’t blame him for wanting to walk away entirely.

To wrap this up, if you have anything disrespectful to say about the boys or this situation, do us all a favor and keep your damn mouth shut.

I expected better from this fandom than behaving like entitled children. We’ve gained thousands of signatures, rallied together to buy a billboard for this show, but we can’t maintain a supportive space for the actors? How do you expect us to succeed in saving this show if we can’t even do that?

To make a long story short (too late), fans, do fucking better.

[yerkprincess]

~ Introduction ~

Basic things to know ~

Hiii ! My name is Bunny! 🐇🤍💐

I’m a 20 year young girl ☺️

i’m pretty tall i’m 5’7!😖

This is my first time on tumblr

So excited to chat with everyone !

Other things to know ~

18+ at all times please, no age will be blocked, pages that look fake will be ignored. I prefer my blog to be for older women and men.

Dms are always open !! I try my best to respond to everyone. Please be nice 😊

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i’m very kinky 😖😖

I love being praised and degraded

Pet names are my favorite I love being a daddy’s little girl

the stuff I reblog is what I fantasize about wishing they would happen to me

names like princess, pretty girl, little girl, good girl, baby girl, Bunny !, and the dirty names 😉 are what Bunny likes 😊

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope everyone who comes across my blog loves it ! I love posting for you guys and chatting ☺️.

Anonymous messages are always a option if you’re shy 🙈

Thank you for all the love 🤍💋

~ Bunny ~ 🤍🐇💐

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[Two-way Trap] Simon “Ghost” Riley*F!Reader

Simon helps you when you tell him your boyfriend cheats on you, or that’s what you both thought.

cw: Simon and Reader aren’t too sane I guess

Simon hugs you tightly when you appear at his door, sobbing as you tell him someone sent you a video anonymously, of your boyfriend tangled with another woman, kissing each other so passionately that you feel nauseous.

He invites you to come in, brews a hot tea for you, lets you have a nice shower since you don’t want to go back to your shared flat with your boyfriend, makes you covered in his scent, drapes on a big hoodie that marks you as his secretly.

He coos softly as you, telling you that shitty man doesn’t deserve such a perfect girl like you, putting on comforting music so you can relax more against his body.

He leads you to the guest room, puts on a night lamp for you, and after you tuck yourself in the blanket, he promises he will always be by your side before he waves you goodnight. He wishes he could just put you on his bed and treat you like a princess, but take everything slow, he reminds himself when you look up at him with those innocent eyes.

He opens his phone when he’s back to his room, sending a message to your boyfriend — or his friend — thanking him for his cooperation, so that he can finally have his angel all to himself.

- - - - - -

You fake the tears when Simon opens his door, words about how your boyfriend who only got together 2 months cheats on you, and you receive a video from an unknown person proving his unholiness.

You manage not to respond too fast when Simon asks you to get in his house, and smears your body with his shower gel. You have the same brand at home because of your boyfriend, but it just feels different when you’re using Simon’s. Burying your face and sniffing at his hoodie when Simon turns around to bring you some tea.

You record the words he says with the phone in your pocket when you cling to him on the sofa, when he reassures you everything will be alright, that you have him and he will help you move out. Melting into arms, hoping he presumes you’re just too relaxed under the music, not that you try to cross the line between you and him.

You let Simon walk you to the guest room when it’s time to sleep. You lie on the bed, a bit unsatisfied that you aren’t sleeping on his bed, the guest room lacks his smell, which you already start missing as he stands at the door and wishes you sweet dreams, but take things slow, you remind yourself when he looks at you with such tender eyes.

You text the woman you hired to seduce your boyfriend after Simon shuts the door, thanking her for doing her job so well, send her the money with an extra tip and close the screen, smiling at the fact that you can finally have the man that should only be yours.

[lovezbrownies]

Mockingbird. (Fem!Yandere Pop Idol x GN!Reader.)

Masterlist

(Coudln't pick between making her an american pop idol or a k-pop idol so i made her both! She's half American and half Korean and makes variety solo music while in her band :))

Synopsis: While trying to earn your paycheck as a Audio Tech, you manage to catch the eyes of the magnetic, Grammy winning Yuna Claire.

Under the spotlight, Yuna Claire was perfection—every note, every glance choreographed for the adoration of thousands. But when her eyes landed on you, their fire softened into something sharper, something that burned with a dangerous kind of focus. You’d noticed her at first only because of Yuna's fame, the admiration people lavished on her so excessive it was hard to ignore. It was after a concert that she’d approached you, alone in the backstage crowd, moving with a deliberate pace that only you seemed oblivious to.

She’d started with a polite introduction, a charming laugh. Fans had parted around Yuna, gaping as if she were a goddess, while you gave her a casual nod, barely glancing her way. If anything, you’d appeared more captivated by the band posters on the walls. Yuna wasn’t deterred, though. Instead, she leaned in, her words silken, inviting you to a private after-party. Her words were sugar, her gaze hypnotic—but something didn’t feel quite right. And still, her allure was undeniable, almost magnetic.

But you had your own reasons for resisting. The world of flashing lights and obsessive fans didn’t appeal to you, and the drama of idol life felt exhausting just to observe. You'd given her a nonchalant smile, declining politely, leaving Yuna alone in a corridor of confused and shocked onlookers.

Yuna didn’t give up. For weeks after that, her messages appeared daily, each one a bit more intense than the last, though always wrapped in a veneer of politeness. She’d send short, casual notes about her day, like Yuna was trying to convince you of her “normal” side. Then came the carefully crafted photos, her smile dazzling, eyes dark with something unsettling. Still, Yuna knew just how to tread the line between flirty and forward, between coy and committed.

But you didn’t respond, letting your silence answer in your place.

The silence only seemed to make her bolder.

Soon, small “gifts” began appearing. They were subtle at first: a book you’d mentioned liking left anonymously on your doorstep, a handwritten letter slipped into your bag somehow, perfume lingering on the pages. Then, one day, your phone buzzed, and there was a photo attached—a candid shot of you in a coffee shop, reading. The angle was wrong, too close, taken without your notice. The caption beneath read, “I love how focused you look.”

By now, you’d pieced together Yuna's persistence and presence. She was relentless, yet subtle. You’d heard rumors that she had been known to ghost her managers, locking herself away from the world for weeks until she’d get what she wanted. Those who defied her had been known to face mysterious career setbacks, projects canceled without reason. And now, that ambition—obsession—had found its focus on you.

One evening, you returned home to find Yuna waiting at your door. Her smile was radiant as ever, but there was an edge to her eyes, a desperation swimming beneath her polished exterior. Yuna wore a hoodie, as though trying to blend into your world, her gloved hands hidden in her pockets.

“You haven’t answered me,” Yuna said, her voice soft yet unyielding. “I thought… maybe in person you’d give me a chance.”

Her gaze didn’t waver as you fumbled for your keys, blocking your way. She leaned in, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her breath. “Please,” she murmured, her voice low and nearly pleading, though her eyes told a different story.

“I’m… really not interested,” you managed, keeping your tone polite but firm.

The smile on Yuna's face tightened, her fingers flexing slightly as she stood still, the air heavy with her scent and the weight of her expectations. The seconds stretched, her intense silence trapping you until she finally spoke again, her voice softer, almost disarmingly gentle.

“I can change your mind.” It wasn’t a question, more like a fact she’d already accepted. She shifted, a gleam flickering in her gaze as she stepped closer, her voice lowering to a whisper. “I just need a little more time to show you how much you mean to me. You wouldn’t turn me away if you knew how long I’ve waited to find someone like you.”

You could feel your pulse quicken, her intensity seeping into the air between you. The way Yuna looked at you—as though you were the one person in a world of facades—stirred something uncomfortable, something deeply unsettling. But behind that, a chill ran down your spine, the unease creeping in as her gaze lingered, too steady, too fixed, a promise hidden in the depths of her stare.

“I just… want to be left alone,” you said softly, pushing the words out, feeling the way they seemed to make her freeze for a moment, like she was memorizing the rejection, absorbing it before it sank into her.

And then, Yuna's smile widened, her voice tinged with an eerie, honeyed calm. “You’ll change your mind,” she murmured, pressing a soft hand to your arm. “I have all the time in the world for you. And don’t worry—I won’t be far.”

She let her fingers linger just a moment too long before stepping back, her gaze never leaving yours as she turned, leaving you in the dim hallway. And as she walked away, you felt a cold certainty that this was only the beginning.

A few days passed with nothing more than a tense silence and a faint scent of her perfume lingering in your mind. You tried to shake her memory, the look in her eyes that had lingered too long, the unwavering way Yuna had spoken as if her persistence was just a matter of inevitability. But Yuna had fallen quiet, her presence slipping back into the shadows. You told yourself that maybe she’d taken the hint, that perhaps her attention had finally shifted.

But soon, small traces of her began appearing everywhere. It started innocently enough: a coffee cup with Yuna's autograph on the sleeve sitting outside your door one morning, her signature sharp and elaborate. Then, one day, a bouquet of deep red roses appeared—delivered straight to your office, the envelope tucked inside holding only a single message in her elegant handwriting: You missed my last concert. I was thinking of you the whole time. You could almost hear her voice in the words, soft and unhurried, like a gentle reminder she would never let you go.

Still, you kept your distance, responding to her with only silence, the only reaction you could give that felt remotely safe. But Yuna's gifts continued, each more intimate than the last. One night, you found a plush blanket folded perfectly at your doorstep, the fabric woven with her initials stitched carefully into the corner. You left it there, untouched, but the next morning, it was gone, replaced by a small silver necklace, engraved with the words, Forever yours.

By now, you were beginning to feel Yuna's presence even when she wasn’t there. You couldn’t walk down the street without glancing over your shoulder, half-expecting her to step out from the shadows, her voice low and calm, as if she’d just been waiting for you to look her way. It made the world feel smaller, her influence extending far beyond the glossy photoshoots and stage lights. She wasn’t just a presence on screens or in songs; she was a shadow, creeping into every quiet corner of your life.

It was on a rainy night that she finally crossed the line. You were sitting at your kitchen table, half-awake and nursing a cup of coffee, trying to shake off the unease that had followed you home. There was a knock on your door, soft but unmissable. Your heart dropped, a part of you already knowing who it would be.

Reluctantly, you opened the door, and there she was—drenched from the rain, her hair clinging to her face, lips painted red but smudged slightly as though she’d been rushing. Her eyes were wide and focused, her gaze locked onto you with an intensity that made you want to step back, but she was faster, already inside before you could say anything.

“Why haven’t you answered me?” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, but the sharpness was unmistakable. “I’ve tried to be patient. I’ve tried to give you time, but you’re making this so much harder than it has to be.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Yuna shook her head, her fingers curling into fists, her gaze brimming with something raw and desperate. “I’ve waited so long to find someone who doesn’t see me as just entertainment,” she continued, her voice wavering slightly. “Everyone else is obsessed with the idea of me, but you… You’re real. You’re the only real thing in my world, and I won’t let you ignore me.”

Her words were laced with a haunting vulnerability, but there was an edge there, a dark gleam in her eye that made your skin prickle. She took a step forward, and before you could react, her hands were on your arms, her grip surprisingly strong as she pulled you close.

“Do you know what it’s like to be worshipped by everyone but feel completely alone?” she murmured, her breath hot against your skin. “No one sees me like you do. You can’t understand what that means to me… what you mean to me.”

Her fingers traced along your arms, almost possessively, her gaze dropping to the floor before lifting again, filled with a sorrowful intensity that left you speechless. Her voice softened, barely above a whisper, but there was an unmistakable steel behind her words. “If I have to tear down every wall, break every distance between us, I will. You don’t understand how much I need you. You don’t know what it feels like to need someone the way I need you.”

You tried to pull away, but her grip tightened, her fingers pressing into your skin. There was a flicker of pain in her eyes, like she was fighting something darker, something she couldn’t control. Yuna's voice grew softer, almost pleading, a softness masking something much more intense. “I’ll be everything for you,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to her hands on your arms. “I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll leave the spotlight if I have to… if that’s what it takes.”

Her words hung in the air, filled with an eerie promise, a willingness to unravel her entire life just for a chance to stay by your side. You could feel her desperation, her obsession suffocating, seeping into the space between you until it felt like a cage.

“Please,” you finally said, managing to pry her hands off, your voice steady though your heart was pounding. “I don’t want this. I never asked for it, and you need to understand that.”

Her face fell, her expression wavering as though the weight of your rejection was physically painful. But after a moment, she smiled, a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You think you don’t want this now,” she said softly, her voice gentle, yet chilling. “But you just haven’t given me a chance to show you. I’ll change your mind… I know I will.”

With that, she took a step back, her gaze lingering as she brushed a strand of wet hair from her face. Her voice was soft, affectionate, but there was something almost dangerous in it now, something unyielding. “I’ll be seeing you,” she whispered, almost like a promise, before turning and slipping out into the rain.

As the door clicked shut behind her, you felt a shiver run down your spine. You knew, with an unsettling certainty, that this wasn’t over. And somehow, a part of you wondered if it ever would be.

You sank into a chair, heart pounding as you tried to shake off the echo of her words. But her presence lingered, curling around you like smoke, insistent and inescapable. Every shadow in your apartment seemed to hold her gaze, every sound just outside the door felt like her footsteps waiting to step back into your world.

In the days that followed, it was as if she’d slipped into your life like a shadow cast just beyond reach. It started small again—your phone buzzing with her messages, her number somehow bypassing the blocks you’d put in place. A photo of the view from her hotel room, sent late at night with a message below: This would look better if you were here. Each time you saw her name appear, a tightness grew in your chest, the constant reminder that she was watching, waiting.

When you went out, she was there, always just out of sight but close enough that you could feel her, as if her gaze was a constant weight on the back of your neck. She lingered at cafes, always alone at a distant table, her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, never taking them off until you’d met her stare for just a moment too long. She’d nod, that half-smile twisting into something more when she saw the flicker of discomfort on your face.

One evening, you arrived home to find a package waiting for you—an expensive leather-bound journal, its cover engraved with your initials. Inside, she’d filled pages with a mix of her own thoughts, scrawled lyrics, and snapshots of herself, each one accompanied by a handwritten note. Some were simple—Thinking of you—while others were bolder: You belong in my life. The scent of her perfume clung to every page, making it feel as though she’d marked each one as her own. The effect was suffocating.

You tried to shake it off, tried to return to normal. You avoided places she’d visited, tried to take different routes, anything to break free of the feeling of being watched. But no matter where you went, she was always one step ahead, a quiet but relentless shadow. And then one night, as you sat in a dimly lit bar, she slipped into the seat across from you, her presence as bold and unyielding as ever.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you murmured, your voice betraying the surprise and unease that flooded your senses.

She simply tilted her head, a knowing smile curling her lips. “I told you, didn’t I? I’d be seeing you again.” Her fingers drummed on the table, her gaze never leaving yours. “You keep avoiding me, but I know what you really need, what you’re afraid to admit.” Her words were soft, intimate, as though she were whispering them just for you.

“You don’t know anything about me,” you replied, keeping your tone even, though it felt like you were trying to steady yourself on a tightrope. “This obsession… it’s not what you think it is.”

She laughed quietly, shaking her head. “That’s where you’re wrong.” Her eyes gleamed with a chilling certainty. “You’ve made me wait, given me time to understand what you really need. I know what it’s like to be surrounded by people who don’t see you… but I see everything about you.” She leaned closer, her voice low and steady, her gaze intense enough to hold you in place. “And I’m not going anywhere. Not until you realize that we belong together.”

She pulled out a silver key, placing it on the table between you, a soft clink breaking the heavy silence. “I had a spare made,” she murmured, her voice a ghost of a whisper, as though confessing a secret. “I didn’t want to intrude too much, but… it’s better this way. I don’t have to wait for you to come to me—I can just find you when you’re ready.”

A chill swept through you, and the faint smile on her lips made it clear she knew exactly the effect she was having on you. She reached out, her fingers grazing the back of your hand, her touch soft yet possessive. “You’re afraid now,” she murmured, her eyes softening just enough to mimic tenderness. “But I’m willing to wait. I’m patient. I’ll give you all the time you need… because in the end, you’ll see that I’m the only one who truly understands you.”

Before you could respond, she rose, leaving the key glinting in the dim light between you, a symbol of the door she had already opened, the boundary she’d so carefully, and deliberately, crossed. And as she walked away, you realized, with a sinking certainty, that there was no escaping her.