#being upset that the *art* has been taken away from you.

[moon-ttokki-x]

hiii i see you hav angst fics, do uu write character death? if u do then can i request a reader death one and how the members react to it? totally okay if you can’t lolz

ok so this is the angstiest thing i've ever written . . . proceed with caution bc it gets quite intense >< it was a nice release though, i haven't been feeling too over the moon lately, so it helped me a little <3 also blurry header for added angsty vibes . anyway here you go, love~

don't go, please - skz hyung!line x reader

pairing: ot8!skz hyung!line x reader

summary: skz hyung line reactions to when you d*e.

genre: so so heavy on the angst i cannot stress that enough, kind of dark, mentions of not eating, depression, anxiety, reader doesn't really exist in this fic, sad skz which hurt me to write, mentions of pushing people away, unhealthy obsessions, loss of passion and interests, just really heavy grief themes

a/n: you can't expect me to get a request like this and not write the angstiest, most gut-wrenching, heart-breaking shit anyone has ever read . . . anyway suffer . div by @carnage-cathedral

if this content makes you uncomfortable, please skip it . the last thing i want is to make people upset, so don't read this if it's triggering for you. proceed with caution and be safe, my loves <3

skz masterlist

Chan who goes silent when he hears the news. Doesn't talk, doesn't move, and then gets up and leaves, walking endlessly and aimlessly through the streets until the members have to physically stop him. Doesn't wail or cry, doesn't make a fuss. Becomes less affectionate with everyone around him because physical affection reminds him of you; your hugs and kisses and your hands playing with his. Loses his leader attitude, becomes quiet and introverted, and can't seem to find as much passion in being a leader for his team like he did before. Is wary around everyone he's ever known, pushes people away like he did when he was a trainee. Sits in his room most days; is hardly ever seen, and when he is, he's looking at a little polaroid photo of you, clutched between shaking fingers as he wishes for you to come back.

Minho who immediately shuts himself away, refusing to see or talk to anyone. Spends all day in his dorm room, just sitting and staring placidly at the wall. Relives every single moment you've ever shared and wishes endlessly that he could have spent more time with you. Doesn't feel like dancing much anymore, and any remnants of energy he might have had when you were still here is gone. Becomes bitter and angry, harsh towards his own members. Even loves his cats a little less; most of his memories with them are ones shared with you, and they're far too painful for him to relive. His emotions dry up like a dead, shriveled plant and disappear, his teasing personality evaporating with it.

Changbin who goes radio silent over the phone; hangs up immediately after and can be heard throwing up from distress in the staff bathroom. Is taken sick for a week due to the shock, and doesn't eat much throughout. Ends up throwing all of his still-to-be-given-to-you love letters in the trash, along with the diamond ring he was planning to give you the night of your anniversary. Quits producing music; his words don't flow as smoothly as before, even when he rarely feels like talking to anyone. Permanent eye bags take place under his eyes as he goes online, clicking out of his gym membership. Doesn't want to touch any of your belongings, it's too painful, and quits working out due to the lack of energy in his body.

Hyunjin who choked out a terrible, wailing scream and tore out his hair when he found out what happened; begged his members for it not to be true. Spends all day just staring out the window; is no longer afraid of anything, and finds nothing but icy numbness and a deep blue sadness taking root in his heart. Covers the walls of his room and art studio in pictures of you; splatters the walls in scarlet red and peachy pink, and then splatters himself in the same shades. Can't find it in himself to paint for much longer after that; doesn't cut his hair or paint his nails anymore, because that was always your job. Sets fire to his sketchbook and puts the ashes of it in a jar; then sets it on his top shelf and tucks the rest of his supplies away. Is no longer able to find any beauty in the world, not if you aren't there with him to see it.

a/n: i'm not writing a part 2 unless someone requests it

[quietwingsinthesky]

Have you watched dead boy detectives yet? I think you’d like it. Canon gay ships!

I’m gonna be real with you, man. Absolutely fucking nothing I heard about that show made it sound even remotely interesting to me before, and now, the idea of even interacting with stuff tangentially attached to Gaiman makes me feel physically ill. I’m not watching that.

[cupidsarrcws]

thinking about art x model!reader dating but still keeping it a secret but of course deuxmoi spots them together and the internet goes absolutely crazy and the fans are already calling them the it couple like ...

oh you cooked here 😋

you and art decide to keep your relationship private since he just got out of the spotlight— he’s still not ready to be fully under the lights and gazes of everyone who has been waiting for his next move— tennis or life related.

you are quickly rising in the industry and are being booked left and right, constantly being photographed and followed by fans and photographers. it was hard to have a day just to yourself.

you enjoyed arts company because he lived in such an secluded world— only surrounded by people close to him, which you longed for. so you decided to keep it that way.

whenever you flew out of the country, art would take a separate flight to avoid any pictures taken. at your shows, he would still sit front row but would bring patrick to disguise is true motives. whenever you two attended the same event, you refused to take any pictures together and only share glances across the room.

you’d even take separate cars home, embracing each other for hours after not being able to utter a single word to each other.

however— there was one time where you both had slipped up. it was at an after party for one of the shows and you had decided to let loose a little bit, wanting to relax after you had just had just fished fashion week in new york.

you had a few drinks, dancing with a few of your model friends when you spotted art staring at you. you couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat speed up. your legs had a mind of their own, walking past him before looking over your shoulder and making your way out of the club.

you felt an arm wrap around your waist a few seconds later, recognizing his cologne as soon as you smelled it. you giggled softly, turning your head to look up at him.

“hey,” you smiled, looking up at him as he pulled you closer to his chest. “hey,” he murmured back, tracing his fingers on your stomach, toying with the waistband of your skirt that you were wearing.

“have i told you how much i loved this skirt on you?” he asked, leaving a soft kiss on your shoulder. you blushed even more, shaking your head as you inched your face closer to his.

“no… but i’d think you’d love it more if it was on the floor,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his. he didn’t even bother stopping you, kissing you back with hunger.

you two didn’t even notice the people around you who were taking pictures, only realizing when you had woken up the next day, hungover and body sore, when you got a text from your publicist with a image from deuxmoi saying “retired tennis player art donaldson seen with new model y/n kissing at the fashion week after party”

you looked over at art, unsure of how to feel— you knew that he didn’t want to be the in spotlight just yet. you glanced back down at your phone, deciding to open your socials before being bombarded with notifications of pictures of you two, millions of people gushing over how cute you two look.

your heart swelled, smiling as you looked at the pictures of you two. you felt him rustle around behind you, an arm pulling you back into the bed with a giggle.

“good morning,” you whisper, kissing his jaw. he smiles softly, glancing down at your phone. your heart started to beat faster, gulping nervously before shutting it off.

“i’m sorry-“

he silences you with a kiss, which you can’t help but melt into. you pulled away after a few seconds, looking up at him as you snuggled into him. “you’re not upset?”

he smiled softly, playing with a strand of your hair as he cleared his throat. “why would i be upset at you? we couldn’t keep this up forever,” he shrugged.

you nodded softly, grabbing your phone and opening it up again. you smiled at a tweet you saw, showing it to art.

“the newest it couple of new york wastes no time getting handsy after new york fashion week.”

[stardancerluv]

What the Emperor Wants

Part Ten

Summary: Out in the country, feelings are revealed.

Notes/Warnings: 18+ mentions of arousal, dated beliefs in god/s, dated beliefs between men & women. Art/photos of sculptures used in collage are to display & give an example of some possible moments that take place in the chapter.

❤️s, comments, feedback, reblogs are all welcome and appreciated. It’s a longer chapter, but didn’t want to interrupt some of its flow. Thank you for reading! ❤️

There were so many people at the Villa, you were taken aback. So you were grateful for Aelia, at least you knew her. She showed you around while Geta tended to some matters.

Feeling terribly flustered, you found yourself outside. You smiled, spotting a small pond. Gathering your clothes, you sat down beside it. The sun was warm and the grass was soft. Seeing little fish swimming made you smile.

Leaning closer to get a better look at them, you saw your own reflection. You gasped. You had not realized how much of a lady you had become. You wondered, if your mother would recognize you. Did being around the emperor truly do this to you?

“There is the sweetest blossom of Rome. She is near fresh water. Neptune, I pray does not see you and fall in love.”

You blushed and glancing back at the clear, water smiling as a fishes swished by.

“Geta, such honey like words. Be careful we should not upset the gods.”

“I merely hope he realizes my gratitude to have such a blossom such as you.”

Your cheeks remained aflame with his words

“You are in touch with them more than I. Surely, they are aware of your true emotions.”

“I certainly hope so.”

With a soft sound, pushed himself away from the tall tree that had given you shade and he drew close; his clothes brushed you as he knelt near you.

“I already feel the good humors for being here.”

“It is the same for me. Though, I fear I may lose my way in those hallways at least once while we are here.”

You shyly looked away. A chuckle from Geta made your cheeks feel warmer.

“I had to reorient myself as well.”

Your eyes grew as you looked back at him. “Truly?”

He nodded. “Yes, I have some new furniture, works of art that have acquired since I was last here. Accommodations were also made for you.”

“I hope I wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.”

He shook his head. “Not at all.”

********

He swallowed, the good humors filled him to brim when he was around you. It made him restless. Made him want to do a great many things.

He slipped his hand into the folds of his clothing. His fingers easily found the small pocket that had been sewn into several of his garments. Usually he carried with him a small leaf, that he would urge Caracalla to chew on when he had one of his fits or just fretted.

Now, it held something different. A little trinket. A bracelet. He had been looking at the jewelry that he had debated wearing at the villa. It was the least he could give you for saving his life.

“Geta, are you alright?”

He rose his eyebrows. “Yes? What? Why do you ask?”

As he glanced at you he could see concern splashed on it.

“You appeared to be elsewhere, you had grown silent.”

“I am good. Very good.” He nodded. He let his fingers brush against the small treasure a final time.

“I have a gift for you.” Geta said softly.

Glancing around, he did not know why, it was not as if he cared for the words or thoughts of others. Drawing closer to you, where you sat by the pond.

“It is not everyday when one takes an active hand in saving my life. I found this treasure.”

He took his closed hand from the folds of his clothes. He opened it. The sun rays happy danced on its accents. It was lovely, gentle like you were. Not has bold as some of the pieces him or Caracalla would wear.

“Oh, Geta. I…I don’t know what to say. Such finery for me.” Your voice shook.

It caused him to inwardly tremble.

“Do you like it?”

“I do. It’s just, by the gods I never even wished.”

“That is why your emperor has bestowed it upon you, not them.”

“Yes. You have.”

“Allow me then to slip it on you.”

You nodded. “Please. I wouldn’t even know what to do.”

Easily he moved the metals as they should. He grazed his thumb over the bracelet.

“I like it. I chose wisely.” He placed your hand back into your lap.

“Oh, it is wonderful.” You brought your hand to your shoulder.

“Very fitting for one who saved me.” He smiled.

He watched as your eyes twinkled, your face became as brilliant as the sun above. His heart raced he wanted to kiss you. He would.

You trembled at the suddenness of it. But then he felt as you melted against him. Your lips responded to his.

Easily, moving just the right way he hung over you as you easily laid back. Your hair became even richer in color as the loose strands from the ribbons laid in abandon against the soft green grass. His heart beat harder as he hung over you, he anchored one of his hands in the soft earth.

Breaking the kiss so he may take a breath and allow you one as well, he smiled as you reached up and your fingers nestled in his hair.

Drawing close to you once more, his nose, his lips grazed your cheek. “You are as lovely as any nymph lucky enough to have caught the eye of a god.” He whispered in your ear. “But tell me dear nymph you will give chase and make me chase you?”

He pulled back so he could look at you as you spoke.

“Only if he wishes it.”

He smiled. “Good. Right now, I do not. I do not wish to live the tale of the mighty Apollo and Daphne.”

As he spoke those words he saw your eyes become watery.

“You know of their story.”

You nodded.

He swallowed. The words came and knot that had been tightening unbeknownst to him loosen ceased to be.

“My dear blossom.” He whispered in your ear. “I have come to care. Perhaps, my elation, my tenderness is from all that transpired. But, I promise to take care of you and devote my affections solely to you. Please do not wither into a tree where all I can do is only admire from afar.”

A tear slipped from one of your eyes. “No, I promise, as long as we can share a tenderness I will not take root and become a mere tree.”

His lips met yours.

********

You felt wonderfully rejuvenated. He had ordered a bath for the two of you. Any of the knots that had held over from the carriage ride were now gone. Now, candles flickered making shadows dance as the two of you lounged and ate.

Occasionally, you couldn’t resist looking at your wrist where the bracelet twinkled. You would not worry about what may or may not happen when you would be seen wearing it.

“How long will we be here at the villa?”

Geta, shrugged. “A few days at the very least. I already feel much better and it’s only been a day.”

You nodded and happily nibbled on the fish that was on your plate. It was fresh, mich fresher than what was served at the Domus in the city. It reminded you of the fresh fish your mother would serve your family.

“It is very different than the city. I had forgotten one can hear bird calls floating on the breeze.”

“They sound different than in the city.”

You nodded once again. “There they only know of their cages.”

“Beautiful cages, I had an artist craft a lovely one.”

“They were lovely and safe in it.”

A rich chuckle came from Geta, you glanced at him.

“Dondas, is also not harassing any of them here.”

You giggled. “Dondas is cute.”

Geta rose an eyebrow. “He’s a menace.”

“At least he makes Caracalla happy.”

“That is true.” He took a sip from his wine. “Speaking of animals, have you ever ridden on a horse?”

You looked off as if you could see the moment. “Only once.”

You still could remember the feel of the animal, how your mother had controlled the straps of rope used to control the animal.

“Oh?”

“The day, I learned how to treat a wound. My mother had snatched me up when she went to retrieve what was needed. I was small enough to ride with her and hold the items.”

“You need to have a real ride.” A pleased look came over him.

You watched as he pressed his lips together, while glancing at his arm. “Should you look at it again?”

“Yes. We don’t want darkness to seep in.”

“I will have them fetch whatever you need.”

*******

“Aelia?” You glanced at the woman who stood by the door. “Do you wish to watch me check on our Sire’s arm?”

“Oh? Yes. This is very fascinating. Never seen anything like it.”

He slipped from the top of his robe. The soft fabric pooled around his waist. His chest, resembling some of the carved statues you had seen in the gardens.

“It may still sting.” You said softly as you met his eyes.

He nodded.

Gently, you peeled back the cloth. It looked good. Not dark. Soon you poured some of the vinegar and clear oil on it to clean it.

Geta hissed.

You glanced at him under your lashes. “It doesn’t hurt too much does it?”

“I do not like it. I will be fine.”

******

You reached up to the broach that was the cause for all of this. Your finger traced the edge of it.

Geta’s and Aelia’s voice were only murmurs to you has you stood by window that led to balcony. Should you undo the clasp that held the fabrics of your clothes together, you wondered.

He had not dismissed you. Did he need you? A flutter excitement filled you. How he had wanted to be you before the party had stolen your breath. Apart of you should be scandalized, you were no harlot despite being his but it had felt so good. you enjoyed being joined with him.

You gasped as a warm hand settled on your stomach and you were pulled close. You’d know his strong frame now anywhere.

“My sire.”

An admonishing sound came from him. He was so close, you could feel the warmth of his breath.

“Geta, my emperor you wish to be this close?”

You turned your head just enough to see the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips.

“I do.”

You felt as he held you tighter against him. A gasp came from you as his arousal pressed against you. Your heart squeezed. Not in fear but in anticipation.

A soft, low chuckle came from him. “You feel what you have done to me.”

You nodded.

“You have entranced my loins.”

“I have?” You managed. “You have quickened my heart.”

“Oh? Have I?” His voice grew deeper.

You felt as his hand drifted up your torso, which made it beat harder.

“My emperor?” You breathed.

“I want to feel.” His hand then laid where it beat. A soft sound came from him. “I enjoy causing this response in you.”

You trembled as his hand then slipped under the soft fabric that had been wrapped around and draped from you. It was even warmer and softer feeling as it laid against your skin. His rings were a cool contrast.

Lightning then streaked across the ebony sky, and thunder crashed as if drums from all over were struck. Without a thought, a cry of surprise came from within you and turning you nestled against Geta. You easily found his throat and hid your face there. He smelled of honey, fruits. It was very pleasing, it felt right.

You felt as his hand rubbed your back. “My little blossom. Jupiter is just sharing his pleasure with us. From his perch in the sky above, he saw and heard us. He gave us his blessing.”

You didn’t move you. “Even though, I am just a girl who was blessed that you made me yours.” You whispered.

Despite the twinges of worry that prickled you, deep inside the desire to press your lips to his throat grew.

He chuckled. “Jupiter is very pleased. I saw you and made you mine, just as he goes after what he wants.”

The sky once again brightened as lightning streaked across once again, thunder rumbled not long after.

Hearing his words, you felt reassured. Making Jupiter happy was above all. Geta followed close to the mighty Jupiter. You felt such a great honor in all of this.

Following your urges, you pressed your lips to his throat.

@honey-eyed-munson @amethyst-serenade @screaming-blue-bagel @kitkat80 @blondie324 @alyisdead @hellomadamebutterfly @laura-naruto-fan1998 @helsa3942

If you want to be tagged, just ask!

[robin-evry]

Yuu as quetzalcoatl plssss

Sure, I've been wanting to do a Quetzalcoatl Yuu for so long but I've forgotten about it due to doing yōkai!yuu, anyway ask and you shall receive

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐓𝐙𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐀𝐓𝐋 🐲🍃

Quetzalcoatl (/ˌkɛtsəlkoʊˈætəl ) (Nahuatl: "Feathered Serpent") is a deity in Aztec culture and literature. Among the Aztecs, he was related to wind, Venus, Sun, merchants, arts, crafts, knowledge, and learning. He was also the patron god of the Aztec priesthood.[5] He was one of several important gods in the Aztec pantheon, along with the gods Tlaloc, Tezcatlipoca and Huitzilopochtli. The two other gods represented by the planet Venus are Tlaloc (ally and the god of rain) and Xolotl (psychopomp and its twin).

Quetzalcoatl!yuu is the reincarnation of the now dead Aztec and Mayan creator god Quetzalcoatl. After they committed a sin, they were punished by having their title of god stripped from them and rebirth into a dragon.

Quetzalcoatl!Yuu often find solace in being outdoors, especially in open spaces where the wind can freely blow. They love high places, like cliffs or tall towers, where they can feel close to the sky. Sometimes, they take Grim with them, using their wind magic to let him "fly" safely alongside them, which Grim secretly enjoys despite pretending to be unamused.

Much like Quetzalcoatl’s association with nature, animals, especially birds, seem naturally drawn to Quetzalcoatl!yuu It’s not unusual for them to be surrounded by birds when outside, much to Grim’s annoyance as he feels like he’s being ignored. They, however, loves the company of animals and often feeds them small snacks during breaks.

Originally students believed they were a beast man of bird descendants due to them showing their wings of. And was shocked that the fact they are a dragon.

Pretty free spirited, and carefree, you can find them on a branch of a tree enjoying the sunlight.

Quetzalcoatl!Yuu has a habit of performing small rituals or prayers to honor the elements they’re connected to, particularly the sun and rain. On sunny days, they’ll raise their hands to the sky, thanking the sun for its warmth. On rainy days, they’ll quietly hum a song of gratitude for the water that nourishes the earth. Some students think these habits are a bit strange, but those close to Quetzalcoatl!Yuu find it peaceful and respectful.

Lilia has heard about their legend during the time of his youth, during their first upon meeting he introduced himself as well calling them by their old title during their time as a god before their exile to live amongst humans.

A thousand years ago the god Quetzalcoatl commited a sin and their title of god was taken away from them, as their punishment is to be reborn and memory of their divinity to be erased, and is to be reborn to live amongst in the human realm without recalling their former life. Quetzalcoatl was their old name before exile and after their rebirth to be a dragon they were given a new name the one they used today. They were reborn with a new name without a single memory of their former incarnation. But their former ability and specks of the divinity are still inside. Their former self is gone

A natural magic user, but their affinity is usually wind magic, Quetzalcoatl!Yuu can levitate and glide through the air effortlessly. They sometimes use this ability to sneak into hard-to-reach places, or to get a bird’s-eye view of events around the campus. They use ancient wind magic which is more powerful than modern magic it's capable of making tornados, weather,etc.

During moments of danger, especially in fights or magical conflicts, Quetzalcoatl!Yuu instinctively summons powerful winds to shield their friends. This defensive ability has saved Grim and others on several occasions. The wind itself seems to respond to their emotions, swirling more violently when they’re upset or determined to protect someone.

Quetzalcoatl Yuu might be skilled in healing magic, capable of soothing injuries and illnesses, bringing balance and renewal to those around them.

Their uniforms have some feathers elements to reflect on their ability to fly as well their ability of the wind. As well a connection towards their dragon form.

Adopted multiple pets during the course of their lifetime. Their current familiar is a serpent-like familiar, symbolizing their connection to their dragon form as well as their previous life, which assists them in both combat and everyday tasks, often offering advice or helping with spells.

Quetzalcoatl!Yuu and Riddle’s relationship is one of mutual respect, but it can be tense at times. While Riddle appreciates their wisdom, he sometimes struggles with their laid-back approach to discipline, on the other hand,they understands Riddle’s need for order but tries to show him the importance of flexibility and kindness.

They are fascinated by wind chimes and often keeps several handmade ones around their dorm room. These chimes are decorated with vibrant feathers that represent their connection to their divinity. The gentle sound of the wind blowing through the chimes is incredibly calming, and many of the other students come to their room to relax when they’re feeling stressed.

Their dragon form would likely be massive, stretching around 50-60 feet ( 50-100 meters) in length, with a wingspan of about 70-80 feet (21-24 meters). This would make them one of the larger and more imposing beings in Twisted Wonderland, though their graceful, feathered appearance softens some of the intimidation. Their size reflects their ancient, powerful nature while still allowing them to move with elegance. ( By far Quetzalcoatl!yuu dragon form is much more massive than the other dragons in twst as well other dragon!yuu )

Instead of traditional scales, their body would be covered in vibrant, colorful feathers, especially around the neck, tail, and wings. These feathers would shimmer in hues of green, gold, turquoise, and red, mimicking the colors often associated with Quetzalcoatl in mythology.

Quetzalcoatl!Yuu’s dragon form would have a long, serpentine body, making them appear more fluid and flexible in the air. Their movements would be smooth and graceful, often gliding through the sky as if swimming through water, reflecting their deep connection to the wind.

Their large, feathered wings would be majestic and powerful, capable of summoning strong gusts of wind. These wings would allow them to travel quickly across the skies, with feathers that rustle gently even when they’re stationary, as though always in tune with the wind.

Despite their massive size, Quetzalcoatl!Yuu is incredibly graceful in dragon form, often flying above Night Raven College at night, watching over the students. They use their wind magic to remain silent, so only those who are extremely perceptive, like Lilia or Leona, may notice the gentle breeze signaling their protective presence in the sky.

And this is how malleus managed to find out about another dragon in NRC, he was walking around at night and filling a gust of wind. He looked up and saw Quetzalcoatl!yuu dragon form floating in the sky and the moon shines to reveal their body is filled with beautiful feathers, this leaves him awestruck.

It’s said that if someone is ever gifted one of Quetzalcoatl's!Yuu feathers from their dragon form, it brings luck and protection. These feathers, which fall naturally from their wings during flight, are often picked up by students who believe in the legend. However, Quetzalcoatl's! Yuu only intentionally gifts feathers to those they feel deserve a special blessing, making it a rare and meaningful gesture.

Quetzalcoatl!Yuu avoids using their full strength unless absolutely necessary. Though they are capable of summoning massive storms or devastating winds, they believe in resolving conflicts peacefully. Their dragon form is rarely used for combat, but when they do fight, their power is awe-inspiring, capable of knocking back even the strongest opponents with a single flap of their wings.

When Yuu transforms, all manner of birds and animals are drawn to their dragon form. Birds will often circle them, and even creatures on the ground feel a sense of calm in their presence. It’s as if nature itself recognizes the majesty of their former divinity within them and shows respect by gathering around them in harmony.

[cowboygideon]

This scene makes me sooo sick to my stomach. And obviously, yes, because of Art and Patrick and their whole Thing. But also because just LOOK at Tashi. Look how fucking terrified she is. The bouncing leg, the tensing muscles, the big wracking breaths like she's trying not to start sobbing. She's so fucking scared and in so much pain.

This is one of the reasons why I have problems with the challengers fans, and honestly, just the fans of most media in general—because they reduce women so much, that, in their eyes, the pain they go through is essentially worthless. I know for a fact that if it had been Art or Patrick who had gotten an injury like this, people would've cared so much more, would have been a million times more understanding of any "bad" behavior.

And I know it's easy to be upset with Tashi because we see how miserable Art is, we see how he and Patrick's relationship with her led to their falling out. But, seriously, imagine that you're Tashi. Imagine that you've been working towards something since you were a little kid, probably. Imagine that you sacrifice an ordinary, care-free childhood to do something, and imagine you're really fucking good at it. Imagine your entire identity being crafted around a single thing—

And then imagine it all being ripped away from you. Imagine you're in your first year of college, your life just beginning, and the thing that has basically been your entire world for over a decade is taken away.

Like, wouldn't you become completely insufferable? Wouldn't you be so fucking angry—at your ex boyfriend, at the world, at your husband who has an able body, has the ability to be great, and who doesn't even really want it?

People who train that long, who actually have a future as a professional athlete, treat their sport like a fucking religion. It is everything to them. And you're mad at Tashi because she was mean to some guys? Seriously?

[rafeandonlyrafe]

taken

words: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, crime boss!rafe, (former) stripper!reader, drug dealing, prostitution/sex club, multiple murders, guns, shooting, kidnapping, unprotected p in v sex, tit slapping, male receiving handjob, kind of rough sex? its not that intense idk

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

rafe stands on the upper balcony, his hands on the railing as he leans to look at the crowd moving below his feet, a mix of grinding and bumping bodies in various states of undress. his eyes search for you. he always searched for you in the crowd, making sure there is a smile on your face, and that there are no grabby hands touching parts of you that are well and solely his.

it wasn’t a crazy leap from what rafe did in his teenage years. moving from selling drugs to running a club. not just any club, of course. rafe called it a loose clothing policy club, but really it was constant sex parties behind the doors, doors that people pay a lot of money to get on the other side of. 

he, of course, kept up the lucrative drug business, but passed off the actual sale and deal to some underlings. it may not make him a completely legitimate businessman like his father, but it got him a hell of a lot closer to it, and the money got him a lot more respect as well. among the drug dealers and bartenders in his employ, he also has dancers. dancers who just happen to feel the urge to get on top of the bar and take their clothes off while the crowd cheers.

dancers don’t have to engage in any acts of sexual nature with the guests if they don't want to, but most choose to for the generous tips they give, on top of the wage rafe gives them. except for you. he hired you fresh out of college, with a bachelor's degree in arts that you had nothing you could do with, not while staying in north carolina at least. you were confident and beautiful, but you never went too far with any of the men or women who came into the bar, not until rafe approached you one night.

you’ve been his since. his girl, who he allows out on nights that he’s there to watch over you, not truly trusting even his security to keep you safe, just himself. he knows you like to drink and dance, and he’d never stop you from doing whatever you like to do, even if it means he’s internally seething with jealousy, glaring at every man who looks at you.

“sir.” the voice brings rafe out of his own head, looking over.

“what is it?” he questions, voice gruffer than he means for it to come out.

“one of the dealers wants to talk with you.” he replies. rafe would get upset, he hates being interrupted, but this is one of his best men. “he’s already in your office.”

“fine.” rafe sighs, eyes glancing back over the floor. “watch y/n.” he simply says before walking away, knowing he doesn’t need to get into the specifics of never looking away or letting anyone touch you.

“what do you want, martin?” rafe asks, slamming the door shut behind him, moving his hands to his hips, pushing his suit jacket out of the way, letting the gun that he keeps holstered on his hip be in plain sight, a warning and a reminder.

“i want to talk to you about the cut you’re taking.” martin responds, his eyes wild and crazy, and rafe has no doubt that he’s dipping into the drugs hes supposed to be selling. rafe knows the feeling well, but he got out of all of that once his mind started to lose focus too often, and the drugs got too irresistible.

“the cut i’m taking?” rafe questions. “of the drugs that i supply you?” “there wouldn’t be any money if it weren’t for me selling.” martin responds, his hands twitching on his knees, fingers grimy.

“you think i couldn’t have another seller lined up immediately? i can’t believe you’d bug me with this shit.” rafe groans. he wants to get his eyes back on you, immediately.

“wait!” martin says as rafe turns to the door. rafe has to take a deep breath to not deck him immediately, his hands clenching in a fist. “since you don’t want to give me a cut, i want $100k. for reimbursement.” rafe lets out a barking laugh, shaking his head. “and why would i do that?” “because if you don’t, i’m not gonna let your girl go.” martin says, a sick grin coming to his face. “my associate should be taking her out of the building right now, so it’s 100k or she-”

rafe doesn’t let martin finish his sentence. he doesn’t want to hear what is about to fall out of his gross mouth, he simply raises his gun and shoots him square between the eyes. martin falls to the ground, dead before he even realized that the gun was unholstered.

a group of rafes men rush into the office upon hearing the gunshot, but rafe doesn’t care about the body on the floor. “find y/n! immediately!” he shouts, pushing past all of them to rush down the stairs to the main level.

the club explodes into action, every crevice being searched for you. rafe rushes outside along with his men, eyes searching for anything suspicious, when he sees a black van speeding away. rafe doesn’t question his movements or the implications, raising his gun and shooting at the tire, causing the van to spin to a stop.

rafe runs over as quickly as his legs will carry him, throwing open the back doors of the van, his heart breaking when he sees you looking so small, hands tied together and gag shoved into your mouth, your eyes wide and clothing askew.

“shh, i’m here baby.” rafe says, grabbing you out of the van, undoing your hands carefully and taking the gag out of your mouth.

“rafe!” you sob, hiding your face in his shoulder as he picks you up, holding you against him, rubbing over your back even as his hands shake at the fact that he almost just lost you.

“it’s okay, i’m here.” rafe says, but you just continue to cry into his shirt.

“sir.” one of rafes men says. the one that he tasked to watch you, the one that let you out of his sight, let you get taken. “what do you want us to do with the driver?”

theres another dealer rafe recognizes, kneeling on the street, eyes flicking between rafe and the gun pointed at him. rafe doesn’t care if he could give more information, he hurt his girl, and that means only one fate is meant for him. rafe raises his gun and shoots the dealer himself, before turning it to his own man.

“no! sir, plea-” rafe doesn’t let him finish his sentence. you shudder and keep your face pressed against rafes shirt, knowing that you don’t want to see whatever just happened. 

“let this be a lesson on what happens if you ever cross me.” rafe says, addressing his men. “now clean this shit and my office up. i’m taking y/n home. i will get back in touch in the morning.”

rafe doesn’t bother going back inside. he walks straight to his car, setting you down in the passenger seat, sighing sadly when you curl up, rubbing at your wrists.

“i’m so sorry, baby.” rafe says, pressing a kiss to your hair before rounding the car, quickly turning it on and heading towards home.

he takes a deep breath once he’s passed the well secured gate, knowing that you’re more than safe in the walls of his mansion.

“do you want to talk about it?” rafe asks once he gets you inside, and onto the couch, a cup of water in our hand.

“it was just so scary.” you pout, eyes turning downward. “they grabbed me out of the crowd, and shoved that nasty rag in my mouth so i couldn’t scream.”

“i will kill everyone involved.” rafe says, and you know he’s serious. you press your hands to his cheeks, bringing him into a kiss. 

“it’s okay.” you whisper. your words won’t stop him, but you want to take some of the guilt away. “i knew you would save me.” “i should have protected you in the first pla-” 

“shh.” you interrupt rafe, pressing your lips together again. “can we get in the bath? together? please.” rafe nods, he’d do anything for you, he already had the bathroom ripped out and redone to fit a larger bathtub after he learned how much you love soaking in the warm water.

“let me carry you.” rafe stops you when you try to stand, scooping you into his arms. you look so little again, swallowed up against his big chest. it makes him think of you in that trunk, and he moves faster up the stairs, needing to be curled up against you in the tub, making you feel better.

“choose a bathbomb, honey.” rafe sets you down on the cool tile. “i restocked.” 

you hum a nod and look through the cabinet until you find a sparkly white bathbomb. you know rafe would usually complain about you usually using a glittery bathbomb when he was joining you, but today is the one day you can get away with it.

“this one.” you hand it to rafe, who drops it into the tub that he started filling with hot water.

“can i undress you?” rafe questions. you nod, knowing how much he likes to be the one to take your clothes off. he moves so slowly disrobing you, carefully putting your dress in the hamper, that when you’re nude, the bath is filled enough for you to get in.

you sigh happily as the warm water covers your body, watching rafe undress while the drama of the day washes away. it’s become a part of your reality, threats against you or rafe, but this is the most dangerous situation you’ve directly been in yet, and you know rafe needs to relax as much as you do.

rafe slides into the tub behind you, letting you rest against his chest. “you know i can only stand to be with you naked for so long before i’m going to need to take you out of this bath and fuck you.” “i know.” you say, swirling your hands through the sparkly water. “just at least 15 minutes just relaxing before.” “i can do that for you.” rafe says, and you both fall quiet, mind reeling from the day and just needing some rest. your eyes flutter closed, hands softly stroking over rafes thighs on either side of your hips. rafe leans his head against the back of the tub, allowing himself to take a breath.

the water starts to grow cold, and rafe is sure he must have reached the 15 minute mark by now, but you are leaning against him so peacefully he doesn’t want to move you, eyes checking over your wrists, noticing that they’re slightly red, even though you were only tied up for a few short minutes.

you begin to squirm, clearly noticing the cool water. 

“baby-” rafe gasps when your bum rubs against his crotch, and you feel him hardening.

you turn around in the tub to face him, placing your hands on his shoulders. “fuck me, rafe.” rafe stands quickly, grabbing the towel and drying himself off before helping you out of the tub, taking careful consideration to dry you as well, rubbing the soft towel over every inch of your body.

“we are all glittery.” you smile, admiring your shiny skin.

“you’re lucky i love you.” rafe says, making you blush. you know he didn’t take you in just to have sex with you, even if that was the main reason you became his girl at first, but because he had genuinely been interested in you.

“and i’m also lucky you’re going to fuck me.” you giggle, heading into the bedroom and letting yourself flop onto the bed, not caring that the dripping ends of your hair will wet the sheets, not with what you’re about to do on them.

 rafe walks slowly out of the bathroom, a feral look in his eyes, a shift happening inside of him, one from taking care of you, making you feel better, to one of needing you, needing to possess you and take you.

you watch as he approaches, climbing onto the bed and slotting his knees on either side of your hips, trapping you underneath him. rafes cock is now fully hardened, standing at attention as his heavy balls weigh down against your skin, clearly needing to be released, and you prefer that release to happen pumped inside of you.

his hands shoot forward to grip your tits, making you moan, his warm palms massaging your sensitive skin, letting your nipples rub against his hands. rafe is often quiet when fucking you, depending on how he is feeling. you can tell by the look in his eye that he’s got anger bubbling up inside of him, that needs a release, and you are here for using.

rafe leans forward, pushing his cock against the smooth skin of your stomach. rafe begins to rub his cock against your skin, letting it glide back and forth, the head of his cock smearing precum as his fingers pinch your nipple before rubbing over them.

he bends down to capture your mouth in a dominant kiss, and you let him take control, his tongue licking into yours, as you moan, arching your back as he grabs your tits hard, making you flinch amongst the pleasure.

rafe pulls away from the kiss, briefly bending to suck on your nipples into his mouth, just to add to the taste of you on his tongue. rafe picks up your hand, laying it over his cock, telling you without words what he wants you to do.

you press your hand down, letting him grind down between your palm and your stomach as his hand draws back and lays a slap across your tit, not hard enough to truly hurt, but enough to make you gasp. 

you move your free hand to the head of his cock, massaging it with your fingertips as rafe delivers another slap across your skin, before bringing his palm down to your other breast to even out the pain and pleasure.

rafe moans lowly when you swipe the pad of your finger over the slit at the tip of his cock, his hips starting to push faster, which just floods you with wetness, imagining him thrusting inside of you instead of against your stomach.

“please fuck me.” you whine. “make me yours rafe.”

rafe pulls away instantly, moving to kneel between your legs, grabbing your knees and pushing them up, bending you in half. “you’re mine.” rafe says, pushing his cock against your entrance, not even giving you a second to breathe before hes thrusting inside, filling you to the brim. “you’re mine.” he gasps again, beginning to thrust, your sloppy cunt producing wet noises. “no one is going to take you away from me.” you pout, knowing rafe is taking his aggression out right now, but he’s also working through his worry and anxiety about you being kidnapped again.

“i’m right here.” you tell rafe, placing your hands over his, helping him hold your legs up as his cock pushes in and out of your pussy at a rapid pace. “i’m right here.”

rafe lets out a half sob, half moan, wrapping his arms around your legs, needing to feel more of you against his body, even if it just is the back of your thighs and calves as he hugs your legs to him, continuing to push his dick into you, now touching at a new angle that has you crying out.

“rub your clit for me.” rafe grunts, throwing his head back, eyes making contact with the ceiling as he pants, trying to hold back from cumming until you’re ready as well. “need you to cum for me.” “yes, gonna cum for you rafey.” you push your hand between your tightly held together thighs, rubbing at your clit while his cock brutalizes your pussy.

your breath catches in your throat when your legs move slightly to the side, allowing to to see rafes face, chin still tilted slightly upward, his mouth ajar and his eyes glazed over with lust, looking like an angel despite all the devilish acts that he’s done, but everything he’s done today has been for you, and you certainly won’t forget the blood on his hands only there to protect you.

“i love you.” you cry out, tears streaming down your cheeks, your fingers moving faster on your clit, needing to cum for rafe and rafe alone, not caring about the pleasure you’re going to receive yourself, just getting yourself off so rafe can feel your cunt squeeze around him, so he can release inside of you.

“i love you more baby.” rafes voice is hoarse as his hips snap into you, a loud slap every time his hips touch your skin.

you let out a scream when your orgasm hits you suddenly, entire body tightening as rafe releases inside of you, your cunt pulsating as you slow your rub on your clit, milking everything out of rafe that he has to offer.

“fuck.” rafe sighs out, a coy look on his face as he lowers your legs down, rubbing over your thighs to make up for the position he put you in as he slowly slides his cock out of you.

rafe moves carefully to lay down next to you, not just wanting to flop down, considerate of his movements when you’re around anyways, but especially since you just went through something traumatic.

“come here.” rafe reaches out for you, and you slide into his embrace, your head coming to rest on his chest.

“you know you’re going to have to stay here in the house for a few days while i get this mess sorted out?” rafe asks, but it’s more of a statement.

“i know.” you say. it’s not like you’re happy about being locked up, but it’s for your safety. “i’m sorry.” rafe sighs. “when all of this is over, i’ll take you on a nice long vacation-”

“i’m not mad.” you say, picking your head up to look at rafe. “i knew exactly what i was getting into with you, with your business. i understand. you don’t have to apologize for keeping me safe.”

rafe smiles at you, his thumb rubbing over your cheek, wondering how he managed to get such a perfect girl before bringing you in for a kiss.

[thefanficmonster]

Love in Color

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None :)

Genre: Rivals/Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Romance

Summary: Nothing speaks to the soul quite like expressive art. Or maybe the even more expressive artist behind it.

The spring breeze wafts in through the open windows of the small room, curling the curtains to its will. The pleasant smell of freshly bloomed flowers lingers in the air although one could hardly sense it over the suffocating tension that's settled in the room ever since Benedict entered to find Y/N already in there.

Although not a word was exchanged between the two, just her gaze was more than enough to let him know she'd rather be anywhere but in the same room as him. Still, her stubbornness overpowered her distaste for her fellow up-and-coming artist and she remained seated even after Benedict decided to make himself comfortable in front of the canvas farthest across the room from the one she'd taken up.

They are just a couple months away from the mandatory presentations of their final pieces and not a single artist in The Academy can rest easy until they perfect their art. Some have approached the situation as much more dire than others would perceive it but that is simply the burden the so-called greats have to carry.

Y/N and Benedict are prime examples of those artists.

For the amount of disagreements and stubbornness that resides between them, it's quite the miracle they are so alike in nature. And, dare I say, in talent as well. Of course, artists and their art are not meant to be compared but you could never miss the similarities. Not in their pieces, per se, but their personalities.

Competition comes in conjunction with the acceptance letter to The Academy. It comes as no surprise that this place is not exactly a breeding ground for friendships but this headbutting between these two exceeds all limits.

"I sure hope that is mere practice." The mockery in Benedict's voice almost makes Y/N's eye twitch as it echoes off the walls of the silent drawing atelier.

He'd been keeping a watchful eye on her work this whole time, even sacrificing a few important brushstrokes due to his divided attention. Good thing this is just a perfecting attempt on his understanding of anatomy, otherwise he'd be far more upset.

She's become well versed in his game by now. He simply cannot withstand the thought of being in her vicinity without provoking her in one way or another. Although she knows better than to feed into his entertainment, she'd also rather pour ink over a canvas of hard work than take his teasing laying down.

"Very like you to not be able to distinguish practice form a developed piece, Bridgerton." The bite to her words is not at all softened by her leveled tone. If anything it packs that much more of a punch.

One that provokes a smile from Benedict.

"I fail to see how that is my fault. You clearly have made very little effort with this piece but the same could be said for many of your previous ones." He's in no way sincere. In fact, he is openly lying on a dime. He adores her art. All games and personal biases aside, as someone with a distinguished taste in art with a high standard for beauty, he cannot, in good conscience, say her art isn't exceptional.

"Paying more attention to my art than your own, are you?" She doesn't bother turning her head his way, offering him nothing more than a view of her side profile.

"Nothing worth of my attention." He muses, almost forgetting the stool has no backrest as he leans back, catching himself just in time to not topple over and give her the satisfaction she most definitely would've held over his head till the end of time.

She hums knowingly, almost humorously, "That misshapen attempt you have over there says otherwise." She isn't far off the mark. His gaze has been more entranced on each brushstroke of her hand rather than his own. He's missed far more marks than he'd like to admit.

She has him there. But Benedict Bridgerton is nothing if not quick on his feet, "That is certainly one way to admit you are unfamiliar with abstract art. How embarrassing on your part."

A scoff parts Y/N's lips, her head finally snapping in his direction, their eyes meeting with a fiery flare. The tension is so potent a flick of a lighter and the room could be set ablaze.

The temperature only keeps rising when she stands up from her chair, crossing the distance between her canvas and his with three long strides as she comes to stand beside him. Sweat beads form on the back of his neck as a chill rushes down his spine. It is a common reaction his body exhibits whenever her proximity breaches the limitations of scandalous.

They're alone. Unchaperoned. Too close to keep the ton's mouths shut if they were to be seen.

His hand comes up to tug at the collar of his shirt in desperate need for more breathing room. He unbuttons the top button on instinct only to realize how inappropriately the action could be perceived. To his relief, Y/N doesn't seem to notice or care. In fact, she's incredibly disinterested in him at this moment, instead offering her whole attention to the painting in progress.

"Abstract, you say?" She muses, reaching down to toy with one of the paint brushes laying in a small blue pain puddle on the palette. "Allow me to fix it for you."

Before Benedict has even had time to process her words, with a swift snap of her wrist the canvas has now been unflatteringly stained with a blue splatter across it that makes his jaw drop.

"You vixen...." He mutters, eyes wide in absolute bewilderment as he watches the splatter drip paint down below it, coating the previously warmly colored drawing with blue streaks.

"My most sincere apologies, Mr. Bridgerton." The faux remorse in her voice raises his blood pressure a whole lot higher, causing him to gulp down his frustration. "It appears I really lack the understanding necessary for abstract art." If looks could kill, she'd be dead. But that glare, that very glare right there provides her such entertainment.

Having expressed her remorse, she slyly goes to make her way out of the atelier, hoping for a celebratory cigarette outside in the garden now that darkness has enveloped the horizon. However...

Before she has even made it halfway to the door, the loud thunder of quick footsteps shake the walls and marble floor. She's barely had time to turn around to witness the most childish retaliation of all time - Benedict has resorted to smearing the entire palette of colors on Y/N's canvas.

I believe this is an appropriate time to mention that they are both aware of how ridiculous this is. It's not even about the pieces, they were mere attempts. Practice pieces, if you will. It's not about them whatsoever. It's the principle. The disrespect, the mockery.

The need to retaliate for every small comments and remark has now become war, fighting fire with fire. Or rather paint with paint.

With redness clouding her vision and practically all rationale having left her mind, Y/N reaches over to grab the small bottle of ink on the professor's desk. A couple steps later and she's dowsing the canvas with it. She hasn't finished spilling the bottle when a hand engulfs her wrist. In a futile attempt to put an end to her offense and save what's left of his painting's dignity - not much, to be honest - Benedict moves her hand, redirecting the stream of ink so now it splashes on them.

His white shirt and her silver dress are now a quarter black in the front.

That realization brings on a brief moment of peace and silence. No movement, no sound. They're just staring at each other in complete and utter disbelief.

A beat later, they burst out into laughter.

"Oh now you're getting it." He warns her, his words breaking them away from one another like opposite charges of a magnet.

They both hurry to arm themselves with paint they can smear on the other but Y/N unfortunately is beaten to it. She's still in the process of gathering ammo when something cold hits the exposed skin of her upper back.

"Purple goes rather well with your dress." His comment boils her blood, making her immune to the cold paint she's now coated with and fueling her into counterattack resulting in red paint drowning out whatever white parts were left on his button-up. She even got a good splatter on his cheek.

Her cocky smirk speaks volumes as she observes her latest art piece, "Red brings out the color of your eyes quite nicely."

Although he's acutely aware of her comment being nothing more than a tease - as is she in her entirety - he can't help the way the breath was knocked out of him

"Is that so?" He muses, slowly crossing the distance between them as if taunting her to run away.

She doesn't. She doesn't move an inch from her spot, instead crossing her arms over her chest as she hums an affirmation that doesn't even fully leave her lips before they're engulfed by his.

If he was worried about their earlier proximity being considered scandalous, he's clearly lost all rationality now considering their bodies are practically molding together, paint-stained hands roaming previously unexplored territory, fingers tangling in each other's hair, exhales mingling in a single breath.

Suddenly, neither of them seems to mind the mess they've made of themselves. They've been wreaking havoc on the other's composure since the day they met, a couple ruined garments and canvases is nothing.

Some things are so much sweeter when you're not supposed to want them, let alone have them. Taking them despite potential repercussions is a thrill that can't match a single high. So, scandals and the ton be damned, he's taking her. Here and now. Paint and all.

* * * * *

The following morning, upon returning to her room from a lecture she cannot remember whatsoever, Y/N finds quite the surprise awaiting her.

~ Forgive me for ruining your dashing gown, Miss L/N. I unfortunately never got to tell you how greatly I like seeing you in it before I ruined it. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't redeem my actions. So, I beg of you to accept this gesture as both a peace and courtship offering. ~

~ Benedict ~

She rereads the note atop the gown laying on her bed at least three times before she realizes she's smiling and blushing - a reaction she would've condemned herself for just twenty four hours ago. Now, with the, um, new developments, being taken into consideration, she allows herself to revel in this unfamiliar feeling that has filled her with a sense of joyful giddiness she can't recall ever feeling before.

As she falls onto her bed, still grinning from ear to ear, she allows her mind to toy with the idea of giving this offered courtship a chance.

After all, no one has ever brought so much color to her life quite like Benedict Bridgerton.

[sports-on-sundays]

hello hello, saw you were a bit bored apparently and had open requests soo…😛

how about a fic where gavi meets the reader during media day for the new kit launch, and as gavi doesn’t really like these events where cameras are, he’s a bit nervous hihi

the reader is the photographer or videographer and she’s shy too, but something between them sparkles🤭 they’re both too shy to talk but in the end gavi makes a move and he takes her on a date or something? just some cutesy fluff:) ty!💞

camera-shy / Pablo Gavi

Summary: Pablo x photographer!female!reader - Two shy people are drawn to each other.

Requested?: Yes!! Thank you lovely!

Author's Note: WHAT A CUTE IDEA! LOVE IT! 💞

"Gavi- Can you look at the camera, please?" the young Spanish man is asked for about the millionth time.

"Hm?" he asks, and looks up once more at the camera.

You snap a few pictures as the PR person who had spoken before says, "Come on; relax your face a bit. Smile. Yes, good. But brighten your eyes, please-"

"How am I supposed to 'brighten my eyes'?" Pablo Gavi asks in confusion and slight exasperation.

It's been a long media day for everyone, but especially Gavi, you can tell. He's not the type that likes the being filmed.

In photography, one of the biggest obstacles are people who are just simply, naturally camera-shy.

And you can tell this footballer, with his big brown eyes, is one of those people. The way he's averting his eyes, getting distracted. His stiff smiles and awkward laughs.

He's a nightmare.

But you, unlike a lot of people with your trade you know, don't get as upset about it.

Because you're one hundred percent more camera shy than him.

Besides the fact that you love the art of it, that's why you became a photographer.

You always get to be the one behind the camera.

A famous footballer being camera shy, though? That doesn't work out as well.

Suddenly, the PR guys taps your shoulder, and asks you, "Don't you have any methods of making his... you know... Appearance, better?"

"S- Sorry?!" you ask softly. Yeah, you're not only camera-shy. You're just shy-shy.

"You know, making him smile bigger, or angles for him to look-"

Suddenly, he's interrupted by Pablo Gavi saying, "Stop bothering the photographer."

You look up in surprise, but quickly look away when your eyes meet Gavi's. You silently thank him, though, as the footballer continues, "There's nothing she can do." He clears his throat, taking a deep breath, and nods, opening his eyes, looking at the camera. "Better?"

"Oh, God, perfect," you murmur as he looks at the camera with a certain playful yet thoroughly serious glint in his eyes. You quick snap some photos.

Pablo will admit he hates PR, and he hates being on camera. As his career has progressed, it's gotten better, for sure. But some days? Some days, he just isn't in the mood to do it.

It's unfortunate that today is one of those days, and it's a whole day completely dedicated to media.

His brain is spinning with the dark room, screen behind him, flashing cameras, rambling managers, and-

And, well, with the pretty photographer.

She's cute, he thinks with a small, shy smile at the girl.

She thinks he's looking right at the camera, and snaps a picture of the little smile. Right after, the PR manager snaps, "Good smile, but put a bit more strength into it!"

What the hell is a 'strong' smile?!

Then, finally, after over two hours of snapping pictures, he's done. He sighs a huge sigh of relief. Apparently, 'that will have to be good enough,' as the PR manager says.

Right, then.

But suddenly, as Pablo is about to leave, a slight disappointment in his chest stops him.

The cute girl. That photographer, I might not see her again...

He looks back over his shoulder, watching as you pack up your camera carefully.

Oh, get over it, he thinks, shaking his head.

You're too awkward to actually talk to her anyway. Just leave it. She's so beautiful, she's probably taken already anyway.

You'll just make a fool of yourself, Pablo.

Suddenly, though, from across the room, you look up.

And your eyes meet.

Pablo can't look away. It's like there's a magnetic force, a spark, holding your gazes together in the air, across the room.

Pablo, it's no use, his anxious brain screams as his legs begin walking over to you. Give it up.

Too late now.

"H- Hey," he smiles when he reaches you.

You gulp. "Uh... Yes... What can I do for you, Gavi?"

Aw. Her voice is so soft, he thinks as he says, "I... I just wanted to thank you for being so patient with me today..."

"Oh," she smiles shyly. "Of course. It's my job."

He lingers, and says, swallowing, "What's your name?"

"Y/n Y/l/n," you smile softly, scratching the back of your neck nervously.

"Oh," he smiles. "Nice to meet you... Uh... so..." he gulps, before sort of blurting, "I was wondering... if, uh, I could have your number...? Maybe, if you're free tonight..."

Your eyes widen as your face flares up pink at the handsome football player's suggestion. "Are you- asking me out?" you breathe.

"I- uh, I mean, if- you know, if-"

"Yeah!" you giggle. "I mean, sure!" You, without thinking, grab a pen and his hand, before scribbling your number on his hand. "That- That way you won't forget it."

"Oh," he nods, loving the fleeting feeling of his hand in your softer, smaller one, for just a moment. "Yeah, sounds good!" he laughs. "We can text the details!"

"Uh, yeah, right!" you laugh awkwardly.

Your head spins as he walks off.

You sit across from Pablo Gavi, over dinner. "So, uh, Gavi-"

"You can call me Pablo," he says right away with a little smile.

"Oh... Okay... So... I'm, uh, sorry... I know I'm kind of awkward..."

He smiles, hastily resting his hand on top of yours. "No, it's fine. I am, too. I was almost too nervous to talk to you."

"Oh?" you laugh a bit. "And don't worry about the filming thing today... I'm actually pretty camera-shy myself, so I get how it is..."

"Oh, you are? That's funny, for a photographer."

You grin with a little giggle, "I always get to be the one behind the camera."

He smiles warmly, his eyes almost shining in a strangely dreamy way, for a girl he just met today, as he says, "You're really cute."

You flush pink. "Oh- Uh- Thank you. You, too..."

He gives a little adorable crooked smile. "Thanks, I guess."

Throughout the dinner, as you continue talking, your fingers slowly entwine with each other. Once you're both finished eating, you're tightly holding one another's hands.

"Thanks for... talking to me, even though we're both a bit hopelessly shy..."

He smiles. "It was worth it... So, would you maybe like to go out again...? I've had... a really nice time with you."

"For sure," you giggle as you stand up together. "I've had a great time, too."

Just as you're about to slip your hand away from his, he uses it to pull you to him, into a hug. You gasp a little by the sudden touch, but immediately lean into it, hugging him back.

You stand there together, for a few moments, arms wrapped around each other, before he whispers, "Thank God I got over my nervousness and just asked you today, because I have a feeling this little date is going to go places beyond what either of us can imagine."

And in that moment, you know, deep down inside, that he is completely correct.

And you smile big, because you can't wait!

[maul-of-shame]

To Everyone Speaking Up & Calling Out the Toxicity in the TROP Fandom—Thank You.

I don’t think I can truly express how much I appreciate every single person who has taken the time to acknowledge what’s been happening, who has called out the toxicity within certain parts of this fandom, and who has refused to let this kind of behavior slide just because it’s coming from a vocal side of the fandom. You have no idea how much it means to see people standing up, sharing their experiences, and refusing to let harassment be brushed under the rug.

Because let’s be real—this isn’t just about shipping preferences. This isn’t some petty "fandom drama" where people are upset because their headcanons don’t align. This is targeted harassment. This is a pattern of aggressive, hateful behavior where people who simply share their art, fics, and meta for ships that aren’t Haladriel (or more specifically, aren’t Saurondriel) are being dogpiled, insulted, and driven off platforms for daring to exist in their own spaces.

And what’s worse? The same people who dish out this nonsense then turn around and cry victim when anyone so much as points out what they’re doing. They twist the narrative, pretend they’re the ones being attacked, and paint themselves as martyrs for their ship—when in reality, they’re just mad that people aren’t afraid to push back against their bullshit. It’s not "fandom policing" to say that bullying is unacceptable. It’s not "hate" to point out when certain individuals are making the space unsafe for others. It’s called accountability.

So to the people who don’t stay silent, who use their voices to shed light on what’s happening—thank you. To the ones who boost posts and bring attention to the sheer amount of vitriol being thrown at other shippers—thank you. To the ones who refuse to let people gaslight the fandom into thinking this isn’t happening—thank you. To the ones who stand their ground, who continue posting and creating despite the harassment—thank you. I cannot say it enough.

Because this fandom needs to be held accountable.

The loudest, most toxic part of it—the one throwing death threats, rape threats, spewing racism, misogyny, homophobia, and other vile behavior—needs to be called out for what it is. This isn’t just "fandom drama." This isn’t "petty ship wars." This is outright harassment, targeted abuse, and a level of cruelty that goes far beyond what anyone should ever have to deal with over fictional characters. And yet, some people still refuse to acknowledge it.

Whether it’s out of fear, out of willful ignorance, or because it’s more convenient to turn a blind eye, there are people who continue to excuse, downplay, or even outright enable this behavior. There are people who sit on the sidelines, watching as their own fandom "allies" send violent threats and bigoted abuse to others, and say nothing. And honestly? That silence says everything.

Because if you see it happening and you choose to stay quiet, if you see people being attacked and instead of condemning it, you look away or make excuses—then at some point, you’re complicit. At some point, you become part of the problem.

And these toxic shippers? They have shown their true colors time and time again. They don’t just go after people who ship differently; they attack artists, writers, meta creators, even casual fans for daring to exist in their own space. They harass people off platforms, they weaponize false accusations, they play the victim the moment someone pushes back—meanwhile, they are the ones making fandom unsafe. The hypocrisy would be laughable if it wasn’t so damn sinister.

And yet, they still try to twist the narrative, still try to claim they’re the ones under attack, still try to gaslight the fandom into thinking they’re the victims in all of this. But at the end of the day, the receipts are out there. The evidence is undeniable. Their words, their actions, their threats—they are the ones proving exactly who they are. And more and more people are seeing it.

The fact that creators have to close their anon asks because some of these vocal shippers cannot even begin to be decent—because they don’t know how to have a polite conversation, because they treat disagreement as a personal attack—is just downright awful. Fandom is supposed to be a space for expression, for sharing ideas, for engaging in discussions. But instead, these people have turned it into a hostile environment where creators, artists, writers, and meta posters have to shut down entire avenues of interaction just to avoid being harassed. And the worst part? That silence is exactly what they want.

They don’t want discussion. They don’t want different perspectives. They want absolute control over the narrative, and the moment someone pushes back, they resort to cruelty, to personal attacks, to making sure those voices are drowned out.

They are actively taking away the voices of other fans. People who just want to share their love for a show, a ship, or a piece of media now have to curate their own spaces like they’re running a damn fortress, all because grown adults (mostly) cannot be trusted to behave like rational human beings. And honestly? It’s exhausting. It’s frustrating. It’s beyond ridiculous that people who claim to love this fandom so much are the very same ones making it unbearable for so many others.

And I guess they really did take a page out of Sauron’s book, huh? Manipulation, fear tactics, suppression—sounds a lot like something straight out of Mordor. But unlike Sauron, they’re not actually as powerful as they think they are. Because the more they lash out, the more they show exactly who they are, the more people see them for what they are. And at some point, even their own side will have to ask: is this really what we stand for?

I know not all Haladriels and Saurondriels are like that. I know. Some genuinely lovely shippers check in on us from time to time, making sure we're alright, and I appreciate them so much for that. But let’s be real—there is a very vocal and nasty part of this fandom that treats their ship like some kind of cult, complete with self-appointed “leaders” who believe they get to dictate what ships are acceptable and which people deserve to be harassed.

(Which, by the way, if you think a ship has leaders, I’m so sorry, but—are you okay? Do you need help? Fandom is not an army, and shipping is not a hierarchy. You are not fighting a war; you are just being a very vocal weirdo on the internet.)

And because their previous tactics—harassment, bullying, twisting narratives—aren’t working as well anymore (since, shocker, people are calling them out), their new brilliant strategy is trying to pit other shippers against each other. Like I see those anons, trying to stir shit between us Elrondriels and the Adariels, as if we don’t see what they’re doing. As if we’re all just going to fall for it. But funnily enough, all the Adariels I’ve interacted with have been nothing but absolute sweethearts—chill, kind, supportive people who just love their ship and mind their business. So, once again, it’s not working.

It’s actually hilarious how predictable the toxic ones are. They need conflict, they need to frame themselves as the victims, so they’re out here desperately trying to manufacture fights where none exist. But sorry, besties, the rest of the fandom isn’t as toxic as you. Some of us actually know how to coexist with different opinions without treating it like a personal attack. Try again.

If Elrondriels were really as "sensitive" as antis love to claim, if we were truly the "fragile little crybabies" they paint us to be, then why are we the ones holding a fluff week open to all ships?

And yes, that includes Haladriel.

You heard me. Loud and clear.

Despite having every reason to ban that ship from this event based on the absolute tidal wave of harassment that has come from that side for days, weeks, MONTHS: it’s still open to all.

And do you know why?

Because that’s who we are. Some of us are multi-shippers. Some of us just enjoy discovering new pairings we hadn’t thought about before. Some of us simply believe that every fan deserves a space to share what they love. Whether that’s "naiveté", "stupidity", or just basic human empathy and kindness, it doesn’t really matter. It’s needed. Because fandom should be fun, not a battleground where people have to defend their right to enjoy things in peace.

And before anyone starts clutching their pearls about "but my poor Haladriels are being excluded"—no one is being excluded. Not by us, anyway. Hell, we’ve been out here welcoming everyone while simultaneously scrubbing our spaces clean of the harassment we’ve been getting from those same people. I’ve already had to clean my AO3 from some antis comments recently too, and guess what? Anon asks are staying closed here.

So yeah, a massive thank you to the ones making a difference. You are the reason so many of us still feel like this fandom is worth being in. And to the toxic shippers throwing tantrums in the background—keep screaming into the void, besties. You’re not stopping anyone from loving what they love. ❤️

I was supposed to be on a damn hiatus (can’t let that nasty anon think I’m not out here acing my exams—boo-fucking-hoo, cry about it), but this was running laps in my head, so here we are.

Note: It is past 7 AM, and here I am, already doing my best Lindir impression, rolling out decrees before I’ve even had my first sip of coffee. Elrond, please, I am but one elf.

But seriously—sorry (not really) for this absolute brick of a post. If you’ve made it this far, congrats! You have officially been inducted into the Fellowship of Tired But Stubborn Fandom Enjoyers™. We do not have a ring to destroy, but we do have some toxic nonsense to yeet into Mount Doom.

And before any antis come crawling in like Gríma Wormtongue trying to twist my words: No, I am not “obsessed” with you. You are just very loud, very public, and very wrong. If y’all weren’t so dedicated to making a mess of fandom, I wouldn’t have to be over here wielding a metaphorical mop at the crack of dawn like some long-suffering Lindir who did NOT sign up for this.

Honestly? You lot remind me of chihuahuas on espresso. Yap, yap, yap. Biting ankles, foaming at the mouth, thinking you're intimidating when really, you’re just giving everyone a headache. (Apologies to the speed demon enjoyers—your tiny gremlins are at least adorable.)

So no, I’m not "obsessed", I just have basic pattern recognition and the tragic misfortune of having eyes. You keep causing nonsense, people keep calling it out, and then you throw tantrums because gasp actions have consequences?? Couldn't be me.

Anyway, thanks to everyone who keeps showing up, calling things out, and making fandom a better place. You're all the real heroes, and I will absolutely hand you my sword, bow, and axe if needed.

[da-awesom-one]

At All Costs (Snowflake Version) - Chris Pine & Idina Menzel

Art I commissioned from Frost_Art on Instagram.

LYRICS UPDATED: 1/13/2025

*DISCLAIMER: These lyrics are fan-made lyrics of a song created and owned by Disney for characters that are owned by both Disney and Dreamworks respectively . No money is being made off of this. This was solely written for recreational purposes.*

Context: This is set during Frozen II, in the middle of the Dark Sea scene. They’ve barely survived the Nokk, and Jack is the most upset he’s ever been. Elsa left him behind not once, but twice. The first when they left Kristoff and Sven behind, and the second when she sent Olaf and Anna away. Not only that, she recklessly runs into the Dark Sea, and that’s not mentioning his fear of water. Coupled with the fear of being sent away, and not feeling like he has a place in Arendelle, he’s really struggling to prove his worth without being selfish.

Love is selflessness, and he has taken that to heart since the events of Frozen 1, where he abandoned Elsa before her parents died, and he did everything in his power to make up for it when she finally sees him again. However, it doesn't always work in the right way. So he’s desperately trying to not be what he perceives to be selfish, for being selfish is what almost lost him his best friend in the first place, and he is deeply afraid of losing his new family. Of losing Elsa.

But somewhere along the way, whether he understands or want to admit it or not, things changed. Jack sees Elsa differently, just as she started to in her late teens, but kept quiet due to what happened and out of respect to her friend, also because she's not sure she understands it either.

They argue in the Dark Sea, telling her he doesn't want to lose her, but right as Jack’s about to say what he actually wants, he relents, saying what he wants doesn’t matter. Elsa doesn’t accept that. Once they get to safety, she tells him what he wants matters to HER.

And he tells her he wants to stay with her forever. That he sees her the way Kristoff does to Anna. But time, fate, what have you, makes it seem like no matter what he does, he can’t. But still, he wants to be with her regardless. Because she is his destiny. And being with her makes him feel better, and whole.

So then he starts singing. And so does she. And for the first time since entering the Enchanted Forest, they're on the same page. Better now than ever before.

Sing = Siiing

-

(VERSE 1)

J: If destiny is a set-in-stone thing,

Mine would be you.

If you'd have told me the feelings you'd bring,

I'd think them untrue.

Yet I never thought I’d meet someone like you.

Not in this life.

You still amaze me after all this time.

(PRE-CHORUS)

You… pull me in like some kind of wind,

Steer me through all the doubts within,

Make me brave enough to tell ya...

…That I…

(CHORUS)

Love you as one does.

I, I would protect you 

At all costs.

Keep you safe here in my arms.

I, I will protect you 

At all costs.

At all costs.

(VERSE 2)

E: How to say… the words that I wish to convey?

That I want this, too. Even if I tried to,

I can’t go back to life before you.

If someone tried to stop this, there’s no

Way I’d let that happen.

I'd fight for us in ways you can't imagine.

I’ve felt this once before, so I hope

It would be alright to stand right here and tell you…

(CHORUS)

B: I love you as one does.

I, I will protect you 

At all costs.

Hold you right here in my heart.

I, I will protect you 

At all costs!

At all costs!

(BRIDGE)

If you're ever feeling like you're lost,

I’ll come find you!

Man all fronts! There's no ocean I won't swim across

To be right by you!

And not just once. Here and now, I swear on my response,

I'll remind you…

(FINAL CHORUS)

I love you as one does.

I, I will protect you 

At all costs!

Face the storm, and all the odds!

I, I will protect you 

At all costs!

At all costs.

(END)

-

Debated whether or not to do this after posting the Jack Frost This Is The Thanks I Get?!, and finally hearing this for the first time. I got giddy, as this is definitely one of the top songs from the Wish soundtrack, and it struck me as odd that the villain, who in the movie was married, and the protagonist would sing something that sounded... well, romantic.

After seeing Wish for the context of it, and later discovering the Demo Version, learning that it WAS originally written as a love song, well... I had to go back and tweak my original draft.

@doodlemel's Animatic of them singing this song definitely didn't help, either. XD

I had to tweak bits that weren't making sense for Jack to say, especially parts that Magnifico said in the movie that kinda hinted to his more flawed persona. Because Jack is a good guy, but also someone who has never experienced these kinda feelings before, as well as also dealing with a lot of mistakes and trauma that influence his perception of whether or not his feelings are genuine, and whether he has a right to feel these feelings.

Elsa, for her part. is more straightforward, remarkably. Because I headcanon that she fell in love first, but Jack was being Shonen Protagonist oblivious to it. And by the time he started feeling a spark of something similar, stuff had already happened between them that they needed to clear up. But her feelings for him never really went away, even if she got better at hiding them. So when she hears him FINALLY admit that he feels the same way, she doesn't have to hide anymore. She lets him say his piece, and responds in kind.

Ultimately, I didn't really change much but the first parts where they sing, and parts of the choruses. Especially the “love” parts, as I just HAD to incorporate the original Demo Version into it. It's telling a sort of story. Of them slowly synchronizing once more, and finally ending with them being of one mind and heart.

For to love on a spectrum that has both beings as one, in my opinion, is truly a beautiful thing.

[mamawardentotherescue]

Okay, so I've slept and gathered my thoughts more and I'm going to explain why I don't like da:v (because some of you have assumed a lot about me and my relationship with the series)

First off, I have been in love with dragon age since I was 13/14 and have been obsessed with it for 12 years. It was my muse for writing and creating art; I read every book I could get my hands on and lived on the wiki and forums for everything else; when I got my first pay check I bought the lore books (which was hard to find in Australia). When I was depressed or so lonely my heart felt like it would burst, I would come back to the companions I would call friends. This game saved me from killing myself more times than I could count.

I have loved this game series for all it's writing and lore - the good, the bad, and the ugly. So, for me to be upset and disappointed in this game is not to be taken lightly.

Straight up, da:v felt wrong (I'm not going to mention why I don't like the inquisitor creator because I feel like at this point you should know why). They launch you straight into the middle of a plan your character has apparently known all along, but it left me feeling confused. I had so many questions! It's been 8 years since Trespasser, 10 years since the beginning of Inquisition and 20 for Origins; a lot has changed and I want to know what's happened in thedas since I've been away because I've invested a lot of time with that world, regardless of whether or not you respect my input on the world building...but the writing doesn't care about that.

I had a constant thought of "they're trying to recreate Mass Effect but have forgotten why people play Dragon Age, and they're not even respecting ME while they do it" and the more hours I put in to this game the more obvious this became.

"But MamaWarden, it looks so pretty and the combat is fun!" I hear you say, and yes, I do agree. The game was built really well in comparison to past games, but good hair isn't a good enough distraction from shit writing and a lack of respect for the series.

Before finishing the game I would often say that the best part about the game was the companions. They felt familiar and I enjoyed what I had with them but wished I had more. I was prepared to stick with that until they made me choose between Harding or Davrin (and Assan)...

Let me explain very simply why I fucking hated this:

1. It was another "look at us trying to be Mass Effect" moment but done shittily

2. Feels sus to say the least to pin Harding, the first female dwarf we've been allowed to romance and have a pre-existing relationship with (as the player), against Davrin, the first black elf we've encountered that wasn't just an OC of the player

3. Doesn't matter if you complete their companion quests, gain max approval and send what I would argue the "right" one to survive to a mission, only to have that person die because they were the other group's leader

As soon as it happened and the companion (I felt like I was forced to choose because I was romancing the other) was killed, I felt like nothing mattered. Again, it felt like someone tried to recreate the OG ME trilogy into one game but completely misunderstood what made those games ironically heart wrenching. I wasn't given a choice where I knowingly sacrificed a companion the way they did with Ashley and Kaiden, I was instead given a "who do you think will be best for the job?"

You might think it's a taste or preference thing, but it's not. It's a "dragon age has followed a particular pattern that's different to mass effect but now they've subverted expectations" type of thing. I might be autistic, but doesn't that bother you?

I hated that unless you were romancing Solas, your inquisitor really doesn't matter much to the story. I hated that your Lavellan felt like she was reduced to an additional underling to Solas instead of being his equal. I hated that characters like Mae, Dorian, Isabela and the Inquisitor had NOTHING to say about Varric, regardless of whether everyone knew the truth about him or not. I hated that bioware spewed "no unnecessary cameos" but barely used the old companions for anything useful outside of Varric and Solas pushing the story. I hated that shit is blowing up in the south of thedas but it feels like no one cares except for me, the player who has spent literal years invested into Ferelden and neighbouring countries.

Nothing felt like it mattered and that's the worst part of all of this. That might the intended meta commentary but fucking save it for a different game. This series has always been about hope in times of darkness, but this game feels like it cheapened that ideal and abused it so they can give this half-baked "morally grey" shit of a story and expect us to eat it

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #55] Secrets

warnings: he he he, healthy communication!! wahoo!! shower (act surprised), a lil jealousy from koo, mentions of past escapades with jimin, jk with a point to prove!!, jk is a very bad housemate in this one (but he's sexy so tis okay), scene of the crime: jimin's room, spanking, fingering, dominant koo, GASP! a bird!!! in the middle of business!!!!, hehehhe, confessions, a very lovely shag <3

wc: 14K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

Every job you've ever applied for, and every resume you've ever sent, tells the same little white lie: great at working under pressure.

While it could be argued that you are perfectly capable of functioning through high-pressure situations, it's more so that you've just mastered the art of masking how stressed you truly are.

It starts in your head. The constant reminder of how much work you have to do, how much time menial tasks will take, and how it will impact the time spent on worthwhile jobs. Then, you deliberate over that: What is worthwhile? Who decides? You?

These insidious thoughts coat your brain like gasoline and drip down your spinal column. Make themselves known in your chest. Flood your heart, until it feels like it's gonna burst.

Your lungs are robust, though. They function normally. Filter out the smoke that inevitably fills them once you spark and find yourself ablaze with the catastrophic consequences of overworking yourself.

Still, you work, work, work until you're burnt from the inside out.

Leaning your head against the cold metal of Jeongguk's apartment complex elevator, the change in temperature is welcome. Respite. Comes with the territory of being close to him, you think, regardless of the steel doors. You hear a ding. Step back. Watch as they open, and consider letting them close again. Going back down. Away from him, and the inevitable conversation that is about to happen.

His voicemail had been ominous. You're not sure if it was intentional, but you do know he'll have just gotten home from therapy. You tell yourself that's it; he just wants to share how it went.

But you're not stupid. You know his voice well enough now to know his tells. He's annoyed, and it would seem that you're the person he's taken issue with. Nobody's perfect, and that extends to the both of you. It's not always gonna be plain sailing. You'd get bored if it was.

Taehyung's words have been ringing in your ears ever since he first spoke them aloud, echoing a statement you'd considered yourself: remember who you're doing this for.

Secrets have been kept for Jeongguk's benefit, but the closer and closer you get to his door, the more stupid it all seems. Perhaps that's why you'd been so insistent on keeping it hush-hush, though. You knew he'd have a problem with it. Likes to fight his own battles. Doesn't enjoy leaning on others for support.

That's the thing, though. He's trying to learn how to, now—trying to understand himself a little bit. Regulate his emotions.

With this, naturally, comes the establishment of firmer boundaries; the acknowledgement that his feelings are valued and justified, and deserve to be known just as much as anyone else's. No more burying his upsets just to keep peace.

Or at least, his therapist said something of a pretty similar sentiment during their session. If he's shelling out the amount of money he is on therapy in an overly beige, awfully pleasant office, then he may as well learn the lessons he's being taught.

He's always been a kinesthetic learner. Has to put theory into practice.

And if you've ever taught him anything, it's that his emotions are safe with you. Never belittled or ridiculed.

Which is probably why he opens the door with a smile. Forgets his upset, for he's blinded by stars.

You're a little less glittered up than usual, but there are sparkles on your skin regardless. There always is.

Easy, it is, for Jeongguk to be distracted by you. His thoughts drift to and fro, like tiny speckles of glitter in water. Ebbing and flowing from thought to thought, his brain is constantly in pursuit of you. No guided meditation video on YouTube or breathing exercise could ever calm him like you do.

Which is why your urgency (and hard-to-hide frown) confuses him as you ask, "Is Jimin in?"

His brows pinch together in an almost comedic fashion. Why would you want to see Jimin?

"No?" He questions back, a little childishly. It'd make you laugh if you weren't so nervous.

"Okay," you breathe out a sigh of relief, thankful for privacy as you step beyond the entrance to his apartment without waiting to be invited in. The door just shuts behind you, and Jeongguk remains in place, entertained by the thorny attitude you seem to have. Shoes off, coat up on a peg, you're at one with the furniture. Are exactly where you're supposed to be. Jeongguk loves having you here. Loves it so much. "Good."

As he turns to face you, a look of bemusement rests upon his pretty features. It's been a couple of days since you were last within touching distance.

He's forgotten all about his earlier irritation. Thinks the perplexion on your face is from—well, he doesn't really know. He just doesn't realise he's to blame.

"Hi," he smiles, all dreamy and entranced by the mere sight of you, and it makes you want to cry.

So pretty, is Jeon Jeongguk in all of his dishevelled glory, his busy day weakening his product's hold on his hair, dressed down in sweats 'cause he figured he wouldn't see you this evening.

Hair dark and lightly waved, it frames his features perfectly. A little grown out, the cut has lost its initial shape, which means he has to style it if he wants to look half decent, but you always secretly prefer him like this. As he bites down on his bottom lip, there's that fabled glisten; his lip ring doing the thing that always makes your stomach flip.

But your stomach is in bits, and he seems to wise up to this as his brows crease together.

"What's up?" he asks, strolling to close the gap between you both. Reaches out to place a palm on either one of your shoulders. Tilts his head like a sweet puppy as he asks, "Hey?"

And now you're confused, because he's the one who left you with a voicemail explicitly stating that you need to talk.

"You're annoyed with me," is all you say, because it's all you know.

The thing is, he doesn't seem annoyed. In fact, he appears perfectly lovely.

"But also," you add. "How was therapy?"

"Who said that?" He protests your first point. "And was fine—will tell you later. Tell me what you're on about first."

"Sure?" You check because you genuinely want to know how it went. "And you did!"

"Sure," he nods, but then lets his features snap back into a state of confusion. "But when did I ever say that?!"

"The voicemail?"

"The—Oh, no," he laughs. Like, really laughs. Heartily. Heavenly . Celestially . Lets a small space form between you both so that he can use his hands to express himself a little. "B, no."

In all honestly, he was annoyed.

Fresh off the bat from his very first therapy session, which he still wasn't convinced was the right thing for him, he'd been greeted home with a flyer to Taehyung's next show.

It wasn't anything bad, but it also wasn't anything you had clued Jeongguk in on. There were mentions of his friends and their respective businesses under the heading: Skills Auction.

Secrets had been kept, and from the looks of it, everyone was in on it.

He took it personally.

Didn't understand why you wouldn't tell him whatever it is that's going on. Considered the possibility that the reason went beyond inconsideration. That it was deliberate .

Once he noticed what the auction was for —to 'help with a local start-up'— he knew he needed to speak to you.

He chalked up two possibilities.

One: you really just didn't care to tell him, and the auction was to raise money for something totally irrelevant to him, or two: you deliberately didn't tell him, 'cause his restaurant is the start-up.

He's not sure which idea bothers him more; you forgetting him, or you keeping things from him.

That's a lie. Truth be told, it's the idea of you forgetting him that really shatters his soul.

You hadn't heard the voicemail until a little while later, so Jeongguk had the chance to simmer and dwell upon it all. Has found his annoyance wilting over the course of the afternoon, and now adoration blooms in its place with just a single look at you.

"But you said we need to talk," you say with a slight pout that you're really trying not to let show.

You hate feeling this feeble, but when the words 'we need to talk' echoed into your ear, you'd almost cried on the spot. Called a cab immediately. Have Jeongguk on your family location app (at his request during a night when he was behind the bar in Dionysus and wanted to make sure you got home safe), so knew he was home. Welled up a couple times in the taxi, too.

Your new fear of losing him is well and truly established, now.

"Because we do ," he says with a soft smile, as if he didn't use potentially the most alarming phrase he could have done. "But not like that ."

"Then why would you say it like that?!"

"Because I didn't think you'd take it like that!"

He's laughing, but he's also trying to soothe you. It's not that he's laughing at you, or at least, not in a mean-spirited way. He thinks it's all rather cute.

"Christ alive, B," he shakes his head, his smile not once ever faltering. "You think I'd have gone to all that trouble trying to get you, only to go and break up with you a week or so later?!"

The way you gasp is comical. Deserving of an Oscar, he thinks. There's a glisten back in your eyes, evidence that you're a little calmer than you had been, as you begin to playfully bend his words.

"Oh, so first you wanna break up with me, and now even dating me was trouble," you joke, knowing that he didn't mean it like that in the slightest. Given the fact you've already had one overreaction, a second one is amusing to you both. Far less serious, this time around.

"Fuck off," he laughs, pleased that your humour is back to biting point. He could have phrased his need to speak to you a little better, but honestly? To see you this worried? To know how much you care? Oh, it's nice. Such a simple declaration of how you feel for him, without uttering a single word. He thinks he should return the favour. "No. Don't twist my words, Byeol. You know you're my favourite thing ever—"

Or at least, he tries to. You're just in too much of a teasing mood now that your woes have been remedied to let him.

"So now I'm a thing , too?!"

It's been said before that the good is never easy, and the easy never good—and in his eyes, the way you get a little difficult at times like this just makes you so much better. You scratch that teeny tiny part of his brain that sits between his unbridled loyalty and complete adoration. A spot reserved just for you.

"Mhmm," he nods, closing the gap between you. Doesn't stop until he can smell your perfume. Cups your jaw, and presses an incredibly sincere kiss to your lips. Soft and hard all within the same second, Jeongguk is a man of complexities. Perfectly imperfect. Just right. "The prettiest thing. Mine, all mine."

The way he nudges his nose against yours feels like he's welcoming you home. Says a silent 'hello ,' or 'I've missed you so much.' Both would be applicable.

"So you don't wanna break up?" You ask, pedantic just for the sake of being so. You know the answer. God, you've never felt so sure of someone in your entire life.

"How are you both the smartest girl I know and also the dumbest?" he grins, before kissing you gently to make up for the fact he called you dumb (and also the fact he's about to call you stupid). "So stupid—" he laughs, tucking hair behind your ear. "—but so goddamn pretty, B. God, my gorgeous girl. Have you spent all afternoon thinking—"

"No," you pout, cutting him off because it's so embarrassing that you actually let your mind fret like that.

"You could have just called."

"Was scared."

"You know how crazy I am about you?" He insists, pulling you in for an all-encompassing hug. Squeezes. Might crush you. Good . You'd welcome it. "You literally never have to worry about that."

Arms strong, he keeps you enclosed as he waltzes you both to his room. Giggles along with you as the awkward footing makes it so much more clumsy than it really needs to be. Refuses to let go of you until you reach the foot of his bed. Gets you right where he wants you: on top of his sheets, trapped beneath his body, even if you are both fully clothed.

"So what did you want to talk about?" You ask, knowing that it's best to get it over and done with now. You aren't stupid—even if he did lovingly say you were earlier—and it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. There's only one thing you've done recently that you haven't discussed with him, which you really should have done.

"Take a wild guess," he says with a slight smirk.

It's almost as if he knows you'll still think he's the sexiest man alive regardless of the fact you're about to be reprimanded.

In fact, the telling-off might make him even hotter. The way you bite down on your lip is accidental, but the thoughts of being bent over his knee are a little too tempting.

Jeongguk's usually good at reading your tells but thinks you're just cutely holding back the truth, so he doesn't think much of it, as if he isn't highly aware of how naturally your legs wrap around his body and how perfectly his chain dangles just shy of your chin. He's too hot. Too goddamn hot for you to think straight most of the time.

He's also been in this position too many times before, and knows exactly what it leads to, for him to not get a little excited . You both ignore it, for now.

Instead, you pout. Close your eyes. Whine a little, but are interrupted when Jeongguk starts kissing you again. Couldn't help himself. You look too cute. He really likes how you've done your hair today. Your outfit, too. The way he can't figure out what colour your glitter is, 'cause it shines differently depending on the light. The fact you're wearing his favourite of all your perfumes. And you. Just in general.

God, he just likes you so much. Forgets everything whenever you're near. All he wants is to indulge in the way it feels to be with you. Never let it go.

Lips pressing into yours, the rest of his body kind of follows suit. While one of his arms supports him by the side of your head, the other hand roams. Feels. Squeezes and strokes wherever it can; the base of your throat, the curve of your waist, the fullness of your chest. It's not without reciprocation, though.

Your hands are just as familiar as his - one in his hair, the other squeezing at his ass. A rhythm is set. Hips languid. Effort minimal. The way you rut against one another is lazy, neither of you really aiming for sex—but also neither of you would be mad if it was the inevitable outcome, either way.

Eventually, though, he pulls back. Is a little out of breath. Lets his nose nudge against yours as he shakes his head.

"No," he smiles. "Can't distract me."

"You started it."

"True," he admits, stealing a single kiss and then rolling off you to stare at the ceiling. There's just a single bird above you, now.

It's taunting Jeongguk. He knows exactly what it says. Has only lasted so long because it was strung up after that first Busan trip. Has a little more longevity than the others did.

He reaches over to grab your hand. Ignores the fact his sweats are making his desire for you abundantly obvious. Instead, he links his fingers with yours and holds them on his stomach. Says, "Jimin left the flyer for Tae's next show on the counter."

"Shit."

Jeongguk laughs. It's quiet, but you can feel his chest thud a little from the contractions of his lungs.

He isn't really sure what reaction he was expecting, but is pleased that you aren't trying to deny anything. While you both may bullshit a little from time to time, you'll always admit to it if you're called out on it. You're only human. Not saints, but not sinners, either.

"Yeah, B," he says with a small laugh. " Shit ."

There's gasoline in your heart again, but then Jeongguk squeezes your fingers, and it seems to pump the fluid out. Clears your system. Assures you that everything is okay.

" Skills Auction ," Jeongguk quotes the flyer.

"Mhmm."

"To help support a local start-up, huh?"

You glance across to him, brows a little furrowed, penance prevailing. You really do feel shitty for not including him in on the plans, even if your intentions were good.

"Mhmm."

He twists his head now to meet your gaze. Tries to read your expression. Doesn't try too hard, cause he'll get distracted again, no doubt.

"So why are all the boys listed? Or their workplaces, at least?" Jeongguk asks, and you know exactly what he's talking about.

Advertising space in the local paper, thanks to Namjoon. Custom furniture, courtesy of Min's Studio. A year's free consultation with Jimin's interior design firm. If one of your friends has a sought-after skillset (of which they all do) then they've been roped in. Even Taehyung; a chance to win an original work of his.

Perhaps 'win' is the wrong term.

It's an auction, after all. Bids will be made. But you hope they'll be made competitively. Drive the prices up. Force people to spend pretty pennies—which is exactly why people from Shilla Finances had been added to the guestlist.

They're assholes with money to burn, and they all like to win. You reckon if you have them competing against each other, you'll rake money in.

Before you get a chance to start explaining, he adds, "And where do I fit into all of this?"

"Good question," you say quietly. There's no point in denying it, now. You're not stupid but nor is he. "Look, before you say anything— I was gonna tell you."

"But you haven't ," he reminds you of your wrongdoing. Just like that time he lied about texting a girl to hang out all those months ago, and you refused to go easy on him, he's gonna make sure you learn your lesson. "The show is next week."

With a nod, you know you need to be straightforward with him about your plans. "But I haven't, you're right."

It's not without reason.

Jeongguk is stubborn at best; proud at his worst. Hates accepting help. Even Yoongi had to convince Jeongguk to let him in on the business proposal to take to the bank—and Jeongguk feels ever so embarrassed that Yoongi saw him put in so much hard work only to achieve absolutely nothing. Makes him feel inadequate.

But the restaurant is Jeongguk's dream .

And if you can help him achieve his dream, of course you're gonna try.

Ever since he got the call from the bank, there's been a quiet disappointment in his eyes whenever moments of contemplation have washed over him. Sloped shoulders, firm pouts. It's been hard to watch.

Jeongguk doesn't have the capital to purchase the retail unit outright now that it's for sale, and the bank wouldn't wanna take a chance on an inexperienced businessman like him. Fresh out of university, he doesn't have the credentials built up, yet.

But what Jeongguk does have—and what you'd argue is his absolute strength when it comes to his business plans—is people who love him and want him to succeed. People who will do all they can to help him out in times of need, just like he would for them.

And so when the idea to do a skills sale came into your head, you just sort of ran with it.

The concept is simple: get punters to bid on prizes. Highest bidder wins. The competition aspect will surely propel prices, and the prizes are things that money can't buy, or at least not easily.

The funds raised, once small fees are settled?

Jeongguks, to help with the restaurant start-up. A gift from you all, really. Not just you, even if you are the mastermind.

You didn't even realise how much momentum the entire thing had gained until you were putting together the finishing touches with Taehyung earlier that day.

The collection he's showing is small. Postcard-sized, intricately detailed moments of time spent with his friends, captured in an abstract medium. They're reasonably priced—a little lower than his going rate, to ensure sales—and after the costs of his materials is deducted, the proceeds will go towards the 'start-up'.

The start-up or Jeongguk's dream. Whatever you wanna call it.

The rest of his friends have all donated their time and efforts free of charge. You've even managed to rope in a few companies to partner with the auction. Bartered with Taehyung, and asked if the commission he once promised you as a thank you for helping with the show could be redeemed in the auction—and he agreed.

It's the hot ticket item, you think, although you are severely underestimating how much companies will pay for front-page advertisements in the city paper. They're often booked out well in advance, so for Namjoon to swoop in and reserve it off thanks to an unpaid invoice leaving a slot free next month? Oh, it's like Christmas come early.

And so you tell Jeongguk everything; how the ball started rolling, and how you've been unable to stop it. He listens, and doesn't say a word. Is conflicted.

"I know I should have told you what I was doing," you stress, eyes on the ceiling, just like his. "I just thought you'd tell me no—"

"I would have done."

" Exactly ," you say. "Like I wasn't trying to meddle, I just want you to have options, yanno? Money is the only obstacle. And I just—you've done so much for me. I wanted to return the favour."

"B, there's a favour, and then there's this ," he gently says. He's still holding your hand, so at least he's not mad. That's something.

"I know." Truthfully, you do. It's why you've been so torn up. You knew you should have told him earlier, but also knew he'd probably feel guilty accepting help like this. "I just saw how disappointed you were after the bank called, and like, the only thing standing between you and getting that restaurant going is money and—"

"But it was my call to make, B," he interrupts softly. "What happened with the bank was shitty, and yeah it really sucked for a while, but I would have figured it out. Like, what if I didn't even want to run a restaurant anymore?" You know he does. "What would I do with the money then? They'd start calling me a fraud, or some shit like that. Sue me, probably, for false advertisement. Run me into the ground before I even have a chance to get something going."

With a nod, you don't try and defend yourself. You know he's right—but you also know Jeongguk's achieving his dream regardless of his current difficulties. He's too determined not to achieve his goals.

Instead of trying to reason any of this, you offer an apology.

"I'm sorry," you promise. "Tae said something earlier that kinda made me realise I'd had tunnel vision with it all. I know it'll sound like bullshit, but I really was going to tell—"

"I hate that I didn't know," Jeongguk cuts you off. His interruption is stark. Leaves a cold tail of wind as it escapes his mouth. "I mean, I'm the only one, right?" He frowns, now. "Everyone else knew. They had to, if they're on the flyer. And I just wasn't told. By anyone."

"It's my fault," you say, quickly coming to the defence of his friends. You masterminded it, after all. "Gguk, I literally begged them to keep it quiet until I figured out how to tell you. It's on me. Yoongi said I should tell you. Jimin straight-up told me I was being dumb. The only reason they didn't tell you is 'cause of me. It was a bad judgment call on my part. I'm sorry."

Jeongguk could pretend like he cares about the secrecy.

He doesn't.

He understands why the secret was kept, and why it began. He doesn't see it, really, as deception or as a lie. Is familiar with the concept of surprises, and how they work. Trusts you not to ever lie about personal matters, but does find it a bit baffling nonetheless.

The thing that does upset him, though?

Being left out.

"Just feel stupid," he mumbles. Rubs his thumb against yours. Finds respite in it. "Everyone knew except for me. Feel like a charity case."

"I didn't even think of it like that," you quietly admit, turning to face him again—but he's avoiding your gaze. "Just wanted to fix things for you. Take the pressure off. I should have told you. I really am sorry I didn't."

Jeongguk purses his lips, and his lip ring flips ever so sweetly in the corner of his mouth. He's so handsome, even when he's pouty.

You both show affection and care through acts of service. It's nothing new. He understands the thought process and the good intentions that come with it.

With a sigh, he leverages the grip he has on your hand and pulls you a little. Encourages you onto his lap. It's a position you ease into without difficulty, knees either side of his waist, ankles by his hips as you straddle his body.

Jeongguk holds onto your thighs while your hands ball at the material of his shirt. Eye contact is shamefully avoided, until he sighs once more. "Look, I see what you're trying to do, B. And it's sweet, and I appreciate it. I really do. You just can't keep shit like this from me, okay? Not if it directly concerns me."

You nod, watching your own hands as he clasps them in his own.

"We're a team, right?" He gently says as he encourages your body to lay on top of his. Wraps his arms around you. Holds you close as you nod again into the crook of his neck. "You can be team captain all you like, baby—just don't keep me on the reserves bench. If there's a homerun to be had, I wanna be the one hitting it. Okay?"

"I really am sorry," you say again, 'cause you kind of feel like he's the one trying to make you feel better, which isn't the point of an apology at all.

Thing is, Jeongguk isn't annoyed. Really.

He's a little annoyed at himself for not thinking of the idea first, and a little sad he didn't get the chance to work on it with you—but he's honestly been feeling so stuck about the restaurant for weeks. Spent most of his first therapy session talking about how gutted he was over it all.

And so even though yes, you should have roped him in—or hell, even asked his permission—it kind of feels like you've thrown him a lifeline.

"I still wanna speak it over with Yoongi," Jeongguk tells you as he rubs his hands up and down your back. "Just get his opinion on things—and hey, there's no guarantee we'd actually make any money, right? From the auction?"

It feels different, now, thinking about the restaurant as if it's something that could come to fruition again. Raising the funds for a deposit on the building would alleviate one of the biggest financial burdens. Sure, there's no certainty he'd get approved for a mortgage, or if the bank would even still consider a loan for the refurbs and start-up costs, but it's better than going in empty-handed.

"Totally," you nod, thinking that Yoongi is probably the best person to discuss this all with. "And, actually, that's something else I need to speak to you about."

"Go on," Jeongguk purrs.

"Well, the goal is to raise capital without the need for investors," you say of your thought process behind the auction. "Get their money in exchange for goods or services—not for a stake in your business. Thing is—"

"All the rich twats we know are from Shilla Finances?" Jeongguk grimaces as he references Seokjin's workplace. Can always tell whenever one of those wankers is at Taehyung's show. They all wear Invictus, or 1 Million, as if Paco Rabanne is the scent master of class and wealth, and not just responsible for the cloud of air that hangs in a high school boys' locker room after gym lessons.

"Yeah," you grimace right back. "Chances are, they already know about the show—we always have a few in attendance. Tae's pretty popular with them. I'm pretty sure one of them mentioned some of his work being in one of their meeting rooms at the last show."

You say chances are, because you haven't sent out personal invites yet. That was one of today's tasks, but after speaking with Taehyung, you chose against it. Knew that he was right. That you did have to speak to Jeongguk before going through with it.

"They've got money," he assesses. More than him, by a long shot. Pool their resources, and fuck it—he really might be able to make enough for a deposit on the unit.

"They do," you nod, then begin to explain your theory.

It's not foolproof and there's no guarantee any of them would care particularly for the things on offer, but Taehyung's kind of dominating the local art circuit at the moment. There's a buzz around him that everyone wants to get in on. For flashy, wealth-obsessed wankers who love to keep up with the latest trends, an original commissioned piece from Taehyung would make them the talk of the office for at least a day or two.

"Get investors without getting investors," Jeongguk muses. The idea of being tied to your ex in even the smallest of ways makes him feel physically sick, but this a loophole he could grow to like. "Fuck it. Do it. Invite them. What have we got to lose?"

There's something intrinsic about the way Jeongguk groups you in together with him like this. Your burdens are his burdens; his battles, your battles. He really does view you as a team and intends to keep it that way.

"You sure?" You question, just to confirm it's what he actually wants.

He nods. Adjusts you slightly so that he can look into your eyes as he says, "I'm sure, babe—but if your ex is there, I'm taking you straight to that janitor's closet again."

The boyish charm to his smile makes your eyes roll, but his sentiments do get you a little flustered nonetheless.

"For a chat?" You tease, knowing perfectly well what he means.

Jeongguk just smiles. Plainly states, "No. For a fuck."

"You're so romantic."

"I am," he agrees, ignoring your sarcasm. Smirks as your hair pools around his face, nose nudging up against his. "Gonna fuck you so hard you can't walk straight, and then I'm gonna hold your hand all night to make up for it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm," he purrs, pressing a fleeting kiss up to your lips. "Gonna introduce myself to everyone as your boyfriend. Oh, you know the curator? Yeah, she's my girlfriend. I'm her boyfriend. Gonna make sure everyone knows, B. I'll bet you that all those finance bros fancied the shit out of you when you were with your ex. Bet you they're hoping they can make a move on you now. Fat fuckin' chance. Over my dead body."

His tendency to get a little jealous has never been a secret, but you must admit you enjoy seeing it boil to the surface every now and again.

"You're so dumb," you giggle as he begins to press kisses down your throat.

Oh, the jealousy is potent . Has his tongue flicking against you; teeth nipping at your skin.

"Nah, you're just right," Jeongguk husks against your neck. "I am proud. My pride does get in the way. But when my girlfriend looks like you? Fucking hell, when my girlfriend is you? Jesus, B. Hard not to be proud."

"Stop," you smile, pulling back, knowing that you're both gonna take it too far. "You'll give me a big head."

"Then you really will look like a disco ball," he tells you with a straight face, but just can't help himself from letting a grin escape.

"Fuck off," you laugh, but he simply doesn't let you. Pulls you in for half a dozen teeny-tiny kisses, then decides they're not enough, and gives you half a dozen more. They're fleeting and they're fast, but they're all for you. You know it's only a matter of time until you'll be under his sheets instead of on top of them. "Wait, wait, wait—are we good?"

"Course we are," he says as you sit back up on his lap, and your assumptions about his state of desire are proven correct. "Just don't keep shit from me, okay?"

You nod. Know that the way you felt earlier when you listened to his voicemail was enough to scare you into never doing it again. "Promise."

"Then, yeah," he assures you, stroking your thighs, and looking at you with the softest eyes known to man. "We're good, B."

Amazing, what a little bit of open communication between you both can do.

Has you thinking maybe you should admit how terrified you were on the cab ride over—but then he's pulling you up with him, grabbing the pair of towels he keeps neatly folded on a shelf, dragging you to the bathroom.

He's already had one today, and so have you, but he doesn't care. Wants you naked. Wants to prove how 'good' you really are together. Wants to give you reasons to never keep shit from him again. Reward you for your honesty, as if you're a puppy in need of training—which is funny, 'cause when his hair gets all wet beneath the shower and his eyes are so delightfully wide, he's the one who looks like a puppy dog.

The way he leans into your touch as you shampoo his hair? Gets a little whiney when you scratch at his scalp? Oh, he's such a puppy dog. So cute, and cuddly, and—

"Oh, fucking hell," Jeongguk cuts off your train of thought when he turns to face you. Body covered in soapy bubbles that drip down your skin like honey, he's somehow surprised by how badly he wants you. As if he doesn't always want you.

He's never wanted to be shampoo before, but— fuck —he wants to be on you like that. Doesn't care to think about the physical logistics of it all. Just gets your back pressed to the wall, a hand on your waist while the other holds your throat. Forgets the pretty kisses he usually greets you with. Gets his tongue in your mouth, and your whines in his throat. It's messy, and it's feral, but fuck if it isn't just so indicative of how much you crave each other.

It goes beyond that, Jeongguk thinks. Not a want, but a need.

Even though you'd been playing it off like a joke earlier, he's highly aware of the fact you thought he might end things earlier. He never wants to give you that kind of complex. Wants you to know that a few words would never be enough to break what you have together.

So even though Jeongguk is like a puppy dog in how sweetly he adores you, he's also fierce in how defiantly he wants you.

Hair up and out of the stream of his shower, you didn't want to wash it twice in one day, which actually makes things a little easier for him. Means he won't have to wait out your conditioning time. Instead, he reaches across, and shuts off the shower.

Nudging his nose up against yours, he mumbles, "We don't have to, but I totally wouldn't be opposed if you wanted to fuck right now."

"Huh," you hum, letting one of your hands drop from his waist, to delicately trail around the base of his incredibly hard cock. "You wanna fuck? Hadn't noticed."

When he laughs, you feel the air escape his lungs and settle on your skin. It's something so innately human that reminds you Jeongguk is real; that he's yours, and that you'd be a fool to waste such opportunities.

"Said I'm not opposed," he corrects you. "Up to you. I can make you feel good, B, or we can get dressed and do crosswords like an old married couple."

"You've never done a crossword in your life," you guess, narrowing your eyes.

"And I don't really intend on starting now," he smirks.

"Well then you're in luck," you concede.

"You wanna fuck?"

"That rhymed," you say as he pulls back to grab the towels. He gives you yours first, wrapping you up before he reaches for his own. "Maybe you are good with words. Maybe you should do the crosswords, instead." He raises a brow as he shakes his towel through his hair, not caring for the fact he's stark bollock naked. "Jimin's still out, right?"

"Company dinner," Jeongguk says, as he finally begins to wrap his towel around his waist. "Probably won't get home till the early hours."

You nod. Accept this reality. Say, "Good."

And then Jeongguk is left to watch on in a state of disbelief as you rid yourself of his fluffy white towel and toss it his way before walking to the door. Turning to glance over at him as you push down the handle, you're amused by how endearing his surprise is.

"Well, are you coming, or what?" You tease.

Barely a foot out the door, and Jeongguk's wrapping his arms around you. Covering your modesty, while also letting his towel fall to the floor. You're giggling as his lips press wet kisses against your throat, the pair of you so adorable it would make anyone else sick.

"What if he snuck home, huh?" Jeongguk playfully husks against your skin. "Then what?"

"Then it would have been a nice surprise for him," you tease right back. "Give him something to think about when he—"

"Don't," Jeongguk almost fucking growls .

While this might have been true a year ago, Jimin would most likely feel incredibly awful seeing you in such a state of undress, now. Doesn't associate who you are now with the girl they all met at Dionysus way back when. His encounters with you weren't particularly unique, nor meaningful. He doesn't think of them.

Thinks of you now like an add-on of Jeongguk. Both annoying. Both people he's entirely comfortable around. Both improve his mood during bad hangovers. Both are responsible for many of those hangovers. You're a package deal, and he'll forever be grateful for Jeongguk not being weird about things, like he knows many people would have been.

In a similar fashion, Jeongguk doesn't think about it—except for rare occasions, for no better reason than to let himself lean into a little bit of toxicity.

"Don't what?" You feign innocence, but you recognise the look in his eye; a little wild and ever so dark, even if there are still stars in them. "It's not like he's never—"

"I don't care what he has done," Jeongguk cuts you off, and hooks his arm around your waist. Doesn't give a shit. Picks you up, and gets you over his shoulder. You yelp, as if it's not exactly what you were anticipating—but what does surprise you?

The direction he takes you in.

"Gguk—" You laugh, but he's having none of it. Those earlier thoughts of being bent over his knee are remedied as he spanks your ass to assert a little dominance.

"Don't give a fuck what he has done," Jeongguk repeats as he kicks open the door to a bedroom that doesn't belong to him. "'Cause we both know you never fuckin' came in here, did you? Huh? You ever orgasm in here?"

Part of you is in a state of shock. He cannot seriously be thinking about having his way with you in his housemate's room. Anywhere else? Fine. Sure. Have already been there, done that, got the t-shirt. But Jimin's room?!

That part of you is silenced by the keenness that comes with such a sordid act. Of all the times you've ever told yourself fucking Jeongguk is wrong, you know that this time, it really is.

It's a confusing paradox; he's your boyfriend. Fucking him is a-okay. But fucking him here ?! Oh, God, you're going to hell.

"Where's that smart mouth of yours gone, huh?" He smirks as he uses his spare hand to pull out Jimin's desk chair. You're lowered down from Jeongguk's shoulder, and he's pleased to see how wide your eyes are. Likes how needy you look. Steals a kiss. Husks, "Not so loud now, are you, baby?"

How you're even supposed to articulate a response to that when your heart is in your throat, you'll never know.

Jeongguk presses his tongue to the back of his front teeth. Breathes out a stifled laugh as he smirks. Shakes his head. Says, "Knees."

And— fuck —you don't know when you became this pathetic and feeble, but his display of dominance has really done something to you. There's no pushback. No defiance. Just compliance as you do as he says and get to your knees. Eyes on his, always.

"Wait here for me, baby," he says softly, stroking your cheek with his thumb. Is tender in how he's touching you, but the obscured light filtering in through Jimin's blinds makes him look so much more sinister than usual. You're surprised by how much you like it. "Don't move. Okay?"

You nod, Jeongguk's hand still gently cupping your cheek as his thumb traces your lip, then pushes into your mouth. The wet warmth of your tongue makes him fuckin' twitch. He wants you so fucking badly. Doesn't know why he's torturing himself.

When he leaves, you don't move a muscle. Just listen intently to try and work out what he's doing. You hear the manual lock of the front door go first, so even if Jimin does get home early, there's no way he's getting in. Part of you knows Jeongguk likes the risk factor of shit like this, so it's nice to know where his boundary lies. The pad of his footsteps grows quieter, so you can only assume he's in his room.

You sit on your knees, palms on your thighs. Your poise is well-maintained; a little feline in how you hold yourself. The one thing you do change is your hair. Fix it into a ponytail, instead. You know he likes having something to hold onto, and all you want is to give him the things he enjoys in life.

There's a coolness to the air in Jimin's room. Your nipples are hard, and you know there's a mess between your legs already—which only doubles with anticipation as you hear Jeongguk heading back in the direction of Jimin's room.

Unbeknownst to you both, the closing of Jeongguk's bedroom door creates a stir in the air. Wraps around the only bird left hanging—and then all very suddenly, Jeongguk's ceiling is empty, the final fear nestled in his sheets.

When he enters, unaware of what's just happened, he's so pleased to see you did as you were told… almost .

"It's different," he says of your hair, lifting the ponytail to run his palm down it. You're a little bit disappointed when he doesn't yank it, and kind of question your sanity when you realise what you wanted him to do. "Pretty."

He's pleased to see your cheeks apple as he compliments you, your smile a little shy. As he stands in front of you once more, you notice what he's carrying: the tie of his you're far too well acquainted with.

"Lift your hair up for me, baby," he says, and has to admit, the way you just comply to his every whim makes him so fucking twitchy. Wrapping the tie beneath your ponytail, he brings the ends to the top and ties a pretty (even if a little messy) bow. "Keep that safe for me, yeah? Gonna use it later."

You nod, 'cause what else are you gonna fuckin' do? Say no? Fuck that. You can't remember the last time Jeongguk made you feel this submissive. As much as you like switching up the roles, there's something about relinquishing power to him that really shatters your hard exterior. You wanna be vulnerable for him.

Sinking into the desk chair, you half think Jeongguk is vying for a blowjob—of which you desperately want to give. He notices your eyes, and the way your lips hungrily fold in on themselves as you look towards his cock. Smirks in satisfaction.

"Not yet, baby," he tells you. Holds out his hand to help you up, and uses the other to pull at the lever on the bottom of the chair, lowering it as much as he can. There are no armrests to the chair, making it perfect for what Jeongguk wants—and what he wants isn't so dissimilar from your earlier desires. "Told you not to move, didn't I?"

You stand in front of him, looking down at him in a somewhat odd shift to the dynamic—yet he's still entirely in control as his hands stroke up your figure. Warm and wide, you love his hands. Always have done. Always will.

Nodding, you give no verbal response. Don't feel like it's needed.

"But your hair changed, didn't it?"

There's a softness to his voice that makes everything about this so much more intense than an overtly masculine display of dominance would give. It's the way he holds power, in abundance, without raising his voice or scaring you, that makes your heart feel like it will beat out of your chest.

Again, you nod.

"Not very good at following orders, are you?"

This time, you shake your head.

Feels like there's not a single thought up in your brain right now. Everything has been pushed to the side to make way for the anticipation of what's to come.

Jeongguk's tattooed hand trails down you arm, then wraps around your wrist. Pulls you closer. Turns you slightly, until you're standing next to him, staring yourself out in the mirror. He glances across to it, meets your gaze, and says, "See. Told you so. Pretty."

You hide your smile well, you think. Watch your face in the mirror, and realise that it's impossible to hide how Jeongguk makes you feel, for it blooms over your entire being.

"Just 'cause you're pretty doesn't mean you can break the rules, though, B," he reprimands you, and encourages you to lean over his knees.

The chair's height isn't ideal, and you thank your lucky stars Danbi forces you to pole every other week so you at least have a little power in your legs to keep yourself supported.

Jeongguk wises up to the height issue pretty quickly—but he wants you looking in the mirror, so knows a little compromise has to be made. He supports your body with his forearm, holding you up across the front of your shoulders, his hand curling around your arm to keep you steady.

The sight in the mirror is sin; how Jeongguk is surveying your body, eyes trailing down the dip of your spine to the pert rounding of your ass. The strain on your legs means your brows are already a little furrowed, one of your hands resting on the edge of the seat for extra support, while the other grips onto the arm of his that's keeping you steady.

As his eyes rake down your body, his hands stroke. Grapple. Soothe. Get reacquainted with that ass of yours that he loves so much.

"What's the word?" He asks.

It's a simple phrase only ever uttered in moments of impiety. Lets you know whatever he's about to do goes beyond the realm of your usual encounters and it only serves to get your heart racing even faster.

The whiplash of your earlier upset, and current desperation just makes you so much more pliable for him. So agreeable. You'll do whatever he wants. Are his to use as he pleases—which is funny, because all he wants is to please you .

"Chess," you say, breath so shallow it's almost a whisper.

"Good girl," he says just as softly. He's teasing, and he damn well knows it. Is gentle in how he speaks to you, 'cause he knows he's about to be anything but gentle. "See, you do know how to behave, don't you?"

You nod—then find yourself gasping as the hand that had been softly stroking your skin cracks against it. The force makes your body jerk, but he steadies you just as quickly as he spanks you.

"Words, baby. Tell me."

You try again. Give a pathetic 'yes' , only to be sent reeling once more.

He has the audacity to laugh, and it just makes you fucking drip . The glisten of your pussy leaking onto your inner thighs gets exposed with every spank, and Jeongguk just can't help himself. Lets his middle finger swipe between your soaked folds, before sinking it into your entrance with zero resistance.

The way you moan is like a fucking symphony, he thinks. Mozart would have a field day with the noises you make. Vivaldi would name a season after you. He wishes he had his phone on him. Wants to record your sounds; your bated breaths, your soaked cunt, your desperate gasps, moans, whines—all of it.

Long, slow strokes; his middle finger pumping into you elicits the most pathetic noises from you, eyes fastened shut from how euphoric it feels. It's too bad. He wants to see them. Wants the intimacy that comes with it.

"Eyes open," he tells you.

You try, but it's just too good. You can't help but let your eyes roll back into the pleasure, lids closing as you succumb to the way he feels inside you. You hear the softness of a small laugh, but the words that follow are stern.

"Open, or I'll stop."

"You're so fuckin' mean," you whine, forcing your eyes open—and it really is a struggle, especially when he begins to increase his pace.

His middle finger continues to fuck itself into you, his speed building, the noise of it all so fucking lewd. Shivers run through your body, thanks to the loss of autonomy you always seem to have whenever he's inside you.

"Watch your language, or I'll stop," he threatens, but glances over to the mirror to meet your eyes. You're so headstrong, so stubborn, and yet for him? Oh, you're pathetic . He loves it. "And I can be meaner, baby. Trust me."

"Gguk—"

He pulls out from you quickly, delivering a sharp spank to your ass. The crack echoes into the room, your body jolting, a pathetic whimper mewling from your lips as he steadies you.

As quickly as he withdrew from you, he sinks his finger back into you. Gives you no fuckin' respite. Keeps his momentum up.

"Don't call me that," he husks. If you were to have any cognitive thoughts in this moment, you'd be a little confused. It isn't a name that usually has too much of an effect on him. You just don't realise that that's the issue; he wants you to address him by names only you can say. "Who am I? To you, who am I?"

"My— oh, fuck —you're my boyfriend," You whimper. Admitting it like this gets you feeling all kinds of fucked up. "Shit. Gguk— fuck ."

"Yeah, I am," he grits, a little aggressive in the way he's fingering you, but in such a way that makes you feel like a fire has been sparked inside you. All pleasure, no pain—until he reprimands you for your foul language again.

He pulls out. Spanks you. One cheek, then the next. Is quick in his succession, giving you next to no time to register the sensation, and then is plugging you again with his fingers.

Is gritting his teeth as he growls, "And I'm making you feel good, yeah?"

Clutching his arm so tightly you're gonna leave nail marks, you nod. Gasp. "So good."

His cock is so hard; his tip hot as it throbs, resting up against his lower abdomen. Is trapped between his body and yours, and with every movement he dictates out of you, he's also getting a little friction. Is all desperate and needy, in the way it leaks a pretty bead of precum from the slit, smearing on his skin. Yours, too.

He ignores it as best he can. Is only thinking about you.

"That's right," he says a little breathlessly, a little surprised by just how much he feels like he's out of control, despite having complete authority over you. "So watch your language, and don't call me what everyone else calls me. You've got privileges, baby. Use them."

And then it clicks.

You've got privileges, baby.

It's different to the usual teasing. He doesn't want you to stroke his ego. He wants you to hold his heart.

"I'm sorry," you breathlessly plead for forgiveness, as if he actually gives a shit about your sailor's tongue, and isn't just looking for an excuse to spank you. A second finger of his pushes into you, desperate to elicit more delicate moans. This time, you do watch your language. Do exactly what he wants of you. "Oh, God—" you almost feel like you're gonna cry. "—That's it, babe. God, that's it ."

Babe .

He might actually fuckin' nut from just hearing you call him that.

If he were to really be in control, he'd tell you off for such blatant blasphemy, or some shit like that—but he doesn't care, and can't think straight enough to pretend he does.

"So fuckin' hot," he mumbles instead, as his fingers keep up the pace that's gotten you all shaky for him.

You're really not supporting yourself anymore. It's his hold on you that's keeping you locked in position. Every couple of strokes, your legs shake just a little bit more, and your whines are so breathless he knows you're nearly there.

"Tell me how I make you feel," he husks, voice soft. "Tell me how close you are."

"Close," you whimper, because it's all you can manage. "So close, babe."

"Gonna cum all over my fingers, aren't you?"

"Gguk—" you gasp, mind numb, body burning. He doesn't reprimand you, this time. Keeps his pace. You try and muster an apology for disobeying him, but find it impossible. "Oh, fuck —"

"It's okay," he grits through clenched teeth. You manage to open your eyes for a moment, and just a single glance at his face—his knotted eyebrows, tense jaw, parted lips, damp hair, undeniable beauty—seals the deal. The shaking of your legs gets harder to handle. Knees weak, you really do sound like you might fuckin' cry. "Be a good girl for me, yeah? Cum for me."

It's a request, not a demand, but the pace at which he's fucking you with his fingers makes it impossible to refuse.

The sensation of pleasure that waves over you travels from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, sparking as it reaches its climax. Body tense as your muscles struggle to deal with the lightning that's cracking through your veins, you shudder for him. Don't have to fake a single thing.

Jeongguk's no stranger to what it's like to have you like this, but each and every time it happens he's stunned. Can't form a single cognitive thought, let alone a sentence that makes any sense. Just curses.

"Fuck," he exhales, a fucking laugh stifling in his throat as your orgasm soaks him. You didn't squirt like you sometimes do, but it doesn't matter when he makes you as wet as he does. His fingers and palm were already coated, but you're all over his thigh now as well as your own. "God, this pussy, B," he praises. "So fuckin' perfect."

You give an exhausted giggle, the laughter making your pussy get even tighter around his fingers. Body well and truly spent, it's a miracle you haven't actually fallen to the floor—but his grip on you is so protective, he'd never let that happen.

What he does do, is slowly pull his fingers from you, and stroke at the peachy pink marks left by his palm. "You okay?"

Nodding, eyes closed, you're all pliable for him. Limp and lethargic. Need a moment to recover before you can return the favour. There's a serenity to you, he thinks, as he watches you in the mirror.

Though he doesn't wanna break the moment, he also wants you in his sheets. You look so sleepy, and honestly there's nothing he'd love more than a lazy little fuck with you right now; like a pretty bow tied on top of a present just for him.

Easing you up, Jeongguk makes sure to keep you supported, moving you into a straddle position over his lap. Your ass is closer to his knees than his cock, and it's deliberate, 'cause he doesn't trust himself. Arms draping over his shoulders as his hands grip your waist, you let your foreheads meet, noses not quite nudging.

"Hey," he greets you with a soft whisper. Fixes the issue of your noses not nudging. Cranes his neck a little to get his stroking up against yours—but then pulls a little higher, so he can press a pretty little kiss to the tip of your nose.

"Hi," you reply, dreamy and dulcet in how wrecked you sound.

Nose nestling back against his, you let his lips press down into yours. In search of refuge, they're so pouty that it takes next to no effort.

You grant him the shelter he's seeking; give him a home between your lips as if you don't know you're silently stealing his soul in the process.

Pulling back, even though he really doesn't want to, Jeongguk gets to his feet, wrapping your body around him as he does so. Your arms are secure over his shoulders, legs around his waist.

Head nestled into the crook of his neck, he's reminded of his tie as your hair presses against his jaw. Had intended on using it way before you came undone but kinda got carried away. It's no huge loss. Will just use it later, he's sure.

With a smile, his arm holds you securely in place as he tucks the desk chair back in place.

"We leaving?" you ask, as if you really care.

"Want you in my bed," he simply says, without clarifying. Could be for sex, could be to sleep. Again, you don't really care. Just wanna be stuck to him like glue.

His job in Jimin's room is done. Just wanted to settle that little part of his brain that would sometimes taunt him about your time spent in there. Wanted to rewrite your memories, and is pretty certain he achieved his goal.

Careful as he carries you through the apartment, he knows he's definitely gonna get some negative karma points for what he just did. If Jimin ever found out, he'd probably skin him alive. It's boyish, how Jeongguk smirks to himself, and tightens his grip around your body, thinking to himself that it was worth it.

Setting you down on his bed, he doesn't notice the slight sound of crumpling paper—but you feel it. Chirp a little confusion, which has Jeongguk asking, "Wassup?"

Adjusting slightly, you reach behind yourself.

Jeongguk looks up, just to check on the birds—and that's when he realises.

Bird in your hand, you look up towards him with a loss of autonomy. Forget you have ownership over the birds, too. Don't even think to open it, or at least not until Jeongguk panics and snatches it from you without saying a word.

"Woah, woah, woah," you laugh, your fucked-out soul finally returning to your body. You reach for his hand, but he pulls it back. Doesn't let you take the bird. "Excuse me?!"

"No can do," he shakes his head. "It's wing's broken. You can't look at it. Not yet."

An odd thing for him to say, you think.

Very odd indeed, considering he strung it up after your first trip to Busan, and has had ample opportunity to make any amendments, if he wanted to. You don't know any of this, though.

"Why—"

"Just because!" He interrupts, but he's smiling, at least. Is also naked, and given the fact you're sitting at the end of his bed, he should really be more careful about how vulnerable he is right now. You could sack-tap him, if you really wanted. Forcefully regain access to the 'broken' bird.

Silence lingers between you both, the tilting of Jeongguk's head puppy-like compared to the feline narrowing of your eyes.

Chalk and cheese, you really are ever so different and yet intrinsically fated. Aligning stars and strings of fate are weak in comparison to whatever it is you have between the pair of you.

Glitter and gold, are you and Jeongguk. Cosmic and yet entirely of this earth. Exactly where you're meant to be. Feet on the ground; heads in the clouds.

"Let me see it," you implore, reaching out to pull him onto the bed with you. He complies to this, at least. Even though he's on top of you, he ignores the nakedness, and the almost guaranteed sex he was about to have. Can't think about that right now. "There's nothing to be scared of, remember? It's just me. Just us."

Jeongguk lets the angle of his head drop ever so slightly as he shakes it. There's almost a sense of shame that washes over him; as if there's nothing more embarrassing than the words scrawled onto his bird.

"You're never normally this nervous over birds, Gguk," you smile, reaching up to rake your fingers through his messy, still damp, hair. A smile tweaks at his lips as you do so, his eyes lifting to meet yours. You can't help but notice the glisten of his lip ring from your peripherals. Even now, it still makes your stomach flip. "Nothing you could ever write on those birds would change the way I feel about you. You know that, right?"

Jeongguk barely registers the fact he's speaking out loud when he says, "That's kinda the issue."

With a groan, and a pitiful laugh, he rolls off you. His back thumps against his bed, and just like that, you're a pair of stars looking up to the skies once more. It's as if you're both aware you're meant for more than this world.

But Jeongguk's spent years staring at the ceiling. Never realised it wasn't the plain white paint that was keeping his attention, but his inevitable pull to the galaxies above and beyond.

It takes a second for the realisation to sink in, but once it does, it's stark: there are no birds left on Jeongguk's ceiling.

"How is it an issue?" You laugh, finding his sudden shyness endearing. It's not entirely unlike him, but he's usually far more confident in himself when it comes to the birds. Just a natural consequence of working through so many of them together. "Unless it's a break up bird—but you told me there weren't any."

"And there aren't," he laughs right back, sighing once the joy settles into the atmosphere around him. "It's just…"

You wait for him to carry on, turning your head to look at him. There's a smile etched into his cheeks, eyes starry as they look up towards the nothingness above him—and when he turns to face you too, it's like a meteor shower is happening right before your very eyes.

Silent as he passes the bird to you, silent permission is granted. What's his, is now yours.

"Read the damn bird," he quietly implores you, tucking loose hairs behind your ear. He doesn't need to. Is just preening for the sake of it. Because he can. Because he wants to. Because he needs distraction.

It's kind of funny. His heart was all out of sync when he strung the bird up, but it's calm now. Almost as if it was waiting until the right time. It fell at this very point in time, because divine intervention can exist. When it comes to you and Jeongguk, it seems like it always has done.

A hundred and one crossed paths brought you to this point; placed you right here, right now.

Maybe if you had paid attention during mindless Tinder scrolls and actually replied to the rogue guy who had your favourite Wave to Earth song as his 'anthem', Jeon Jeongguk could have been a casual hookup instead.

If you'd have been the one working on the till instead of serving tables at the cafe you used to part time in, Jeongguk might have dropped his change when he was distracted by your glitter.

Perhaps if you'd have paid more attention to the kind strangers grabbing you their favourite vodka in the supermarket aisles, or the boys you kissed at parties during your reckless university years, you'd have never ended up in Dionysus that night. Or at least you would have, but Jeongguk wouldn't have been a stranger.

If he'd have attended an event with Namjoon two years ago instead of bailing for the chance to grab coffee with Hayun when she was in town, he might've seen you rolling your eyes at the pompous chatter of the city's wealthy. He'd have laughed. Might've struck up a conversation. Probably would have felt guilty afterwards, as if he was doing something wrong. Maybe it would have made him realise Hayun wasn't right for him a hell of a lot sooner.

See, you've been orbiting one another for a while now. Since the dawn of time, really. Your paths just took a little while to align. Now that they have, they'll stay on this path forevermore.

Astronomers have learned that skies are largely made up of binary star systems; two stars orbiting one another. Half of all stars in the sky, or so they say. Some are so close that they even share the same atmosphere.

Collisions of these orbiting stars are rare, and almost impossible to predict. TESS data from NASA predicted such a collision would occur in the constellation of Cygnus, only for the data to have been incorrect. No merge to be seen with the naked eye; no new Red Nova to fill the skies.

Jeongguk half thinks perhaps astronomers had predicted his orbit incorrectly, too; as if they'd aligned him with a meteor when he should have been with a star.

S'why he thinks it took him so long to wise up to his inevitable collision with you.

Now that things have been recalibrated, and the data checked, it seems ridiculous for him to have ever thought a meteor was the correct pairing.

A star is what he needed. What he found in you.

As your fingers hook beneath the paper, and a coy look is thrown his way, Jeongguk realises that none of it matters.

He could blame this on the stars, or the astronomers, or the powers above—but you and Jeongguk are the product of conscious choices. Bad decisions, and good ones, too. Some pretty fuckin' fantastic ones, if you ask him.

There's a speck of glitter on the paper as you unfold the bird. It seems to take hours, Jeongguk thinks - he just doesn't realise he's impatient for you to know what is written inside it.

You give him one final glance before you look down at the paper, drinking in those dark brown eyes that are glittering with the reflection of you, then let your eyes drop.

Part of Jeongguk wants to snatch the paper back, again.

To make a fuss and make a nuisance. To tell you that it was just a fear, and that he didn't really mean it.

But that's the thing.

He's not scared.

And he really did mean it.

Lips parted, there's an endearing confusion lacing your features. Though his handwriting isn't anything to write home about, it's perfectly eligible. He knows you've read his words.

Tell B I love her.

Eyes flicking up to meet his, all wide and without reservation, they're accented with sweetly furrowed brows that just confirm to him that what he had written remains inexorably true.

He is in love with you.

It's sort of charming, how delicately he bites down on his bottom lip, nerves taking hold of his face.

So pretty, is Jeongguk whenever he's unsure of himself. He's strong far more often; confident in a way you don't think you'll ever truly master, but there's something about how dainty he becomes with vulnerability that makes your heart swell.

And God, you don't think your heart could swell any more. If you're not careful, it'll burst, and out will pour liquid gold; origami birds swimming in the essence that makes you live.

It takes you a moment to gather any words, so scared of saying the wrong thing.

"Do you?" You eventually manage to ask; not because you don't believe his words, but because you can't help but second guess.

Are so scared of looking foolish, that even though you know it's not some kind of sick joke, you just want to be sure that he's sure. That the way he felt when he strung that bird up is how he feels now. That the bird was strung up with intention .

There's a timidness to your voice, and that scares him . "Do you want me to?"

Part of you wants to laugh. It's such a cop-out. Can't answer a question with a question.

But you also can't let him doubt himself. Not now. He's given you the moon, and it's time you give him a little something in return.

"Yeah," you say quietly. A shy smile cracks on his pouted lips. "Yeah, I want you to."

And so it comes naturally when Jeongguk matches your tone, and shyly admits, "I do."

He breathes out a laugh, as if he can't believe he's just said it, then realises he hasn't said anything. Not really. He's not verbalised it, and so—

"Love you, I mean," he corrects himself. "Like, I— Well, I mean— Fuck. I just love you. Like, I really fucking love you, B."

"You love me."

"I love you."

"You love me," you say, giggling now.

Oh, it's all so sickening. Disgustingly sweet. Adorable, how your soft hands clutch his sharp jaw, pretty kisses being gifted to his lips.

"You know I do," he mumbles into your lips. "God, you know I do."

"Say it again."

"I love you."

"Again."

"I love you—now are you gonna say it back, or are you gonna keep laughing at me?"

"Not at you, Gguk," you grin. " With you."

"If you could hurry up and make grand declarations with me instead, it'd be much appreciated."

"Why?" You beam. "You think I don't?"

"Well, you've never told me you do."

"Hold that thought—" you clamber off of him and hurry to his desk. Pull open the drawer, with zero questioning from Jeongguk, 'cause what does he have to hide? You know him better than he knows himself. There's no part of him, not even secrets hidden at the back of his drawers, that he wouldn't share with you.

Taking a moment to pause, you reach up, loosen the tie around your hair, and toss it back to him.

"Eyes," you instruct. "Cover them."

Reaching to grab the silky material, Jeongguk just does as he's fuckin' told. After being so dominant with you earlier, he takes solace in letting you lead. Is so pretty, when you glance back, eyes covered, nose dewy, lips pink and perfectly aligned. Gorgeous.

Rummaging for a second, you pull out a fresh sheet of origami paper, and reach across to steal a pen from his pot. It's a black biro, nothing special, but the worlds you scrawl onto the paper? Oh, they're etched from stardust.

Turning to face him, as you fold up your very own bird, you climb back onto his bed, right where you left him. Straddled over his waist, you let the bird drop from your palms onto his chest.

"Oh no," you feign distress, carefully pulling down the tie to ensure it doesn't catch on his lip ring before it rests at the base of his throat. Nod towards his chest where the bird sits. "It fell."

Jeongguk can't hide his smile as he reaches for it. Holds it up to get a good look at it.

"Long lost brother of Perry," he assesses, still amazed at how uneven your folding can be. "Takes after his mother."

"Should read it," you say. "Then you'll know it really takes after its mother."

Of course it does. Is full of adoration for him.

A little hesitation prolongs Jeongguk's opening of the bird. It's like the build of a rollercoaster, and he's trying to ride the high before the drop. He keeps his eyes on yours as he unfolds it. Doesn't look down to read it.

Just looks at you.

Says, "I should have told you sooner."

The smile already on your face blooms a little wider. You just shake your head. Think he timed it just right—or that the birds did.

"Fell when it was supposed to," you promise.

And you're right. Even the birds you thought were too bold, or extreme at the start fell when they were meant to. After all, they lead you here.

Glancing down to your bird, Jeongguk inhales a sharp breath. Knocks his head to the side, hair ruffling against the pillow. His smile grows. Grows and grows and grows. Dimples make themselves at home, and stars litter his eyes.

The words are clear as day; biro on paper, ink on skin, stars in eyes.

I love you.

Looking back up at you, he cheekily asks, "Do you?"

With a roll of your eyes and a smile that Jeongguk thinks is so pretty he should learn how to write poetry, you sink into an all too familiar position with him.

The way your bodies move together is intrinsic; like trained dancers who have been rehearsing their steps for years. When you lead, he follows, much like he is now as your nose nudges up against his. Lips close enough to brush, you giggle. Almost pull back, because you feel all bashful and shy, but know that you can't. Not now.

"Of course I do," you whisper. It's so dumb that he even has to ask, but neither of you have been entirely foreboding about your true feelings. Always kept them squirreled away. Safe. Free from the prying eyes of those who wouldn't understand.

That's the thing though; astronomy is complicated, and tricky, and well above your pay grade, but everyone can see the stars. Everyone loves them regardless. They look to them. Wish upon them. Put faith in the way they move, even if the science makes no sense to them.

The same could be said for the pair of you; Galileo and his Saturn.

"Say it," he teases, lips brushing against yours.

"Say please," you tease right back.

"Not gonna beg you to love me."

"Hmm," you hum a noise of contemplation. Even though he's joking, you realise that there could be a little honesty behind the jibe. "You're a tough bargainer."

"And you love it," he says, because he needs to hear you say it.

There's really no need to play coy. Not now.

So you don't. Just nod. "And I love it."

"And you love me," he chances.

"And I love you."

The way Jeongguk kisses you now goes beyond just a simple meeting of lips. All-encompassing, he cares not for breathing, nor for the fact you're separate human beings. Your lips, your tongue, your moans, he wants it all. Needs it.

And you need him.

"Fuck me," you mumble into his mouth. "Please."

"Yeah?" He asks as if you're not already adjusting, amorous in the way you refuse to part.

Nodding into the kiss, you line yourself up with him. "Yeah."

The first push is slow; a welcome intrusion. You're still a little tender, and he doesn't personally care to be rough with you. Just wants to be with you. To fill you. To be as close as he can, as he mumbles candid declarations into your ear.

You beat him to it, though, as you sink down onto his incredibly hard cock.

"Fuck," you moan, all breathless and feeble despite no real action taking place. Clutching at his jaw, you rest your forehead against his. Swallow back another moan. Swear, through stifled breaths, "I love you."

He laughs. Oh God, he laughs, and you think he's never sounded more beautiful.

"Don't say shit like that," he smiles. Is breathless, too, when he laughs. "I'll die."

And die he does, not even five minutes later, in a mess of slow thrusts and deep confessions that he never thought would see the light of day. With their freedom comes his liberation; the knowledge that he can love and be loved in return. That it's reciprocal.

The way he comes undone for you is celestial; pretty whimpers and kisses that blossom and fall like cherry trees in the spring. Heaven on earth, even when committing acts that'd land you a permanent prison in hell. He'd take it, if it meant he got eternity with you.

That's the thing about love. There are no limits. He'll follow it to the edge of earth; the end of time. You'll encourage him on the chase, not because you're running from him, but because the idea of ever stopping fills you with dread. If eternity is an option, you want it. Want it with him.

Hips jerking beneath you, his back arching ever so slightly as his shoulders press into his duvet, Jeongguk is heaven-sent. There's a shudder to his chest. A haze to his dark eyes; stars sparking with every jolt of his muscles. Neck thick as he strains, the vein that runs up the side of his throat is begging for kisses.

Nodding, you encourage him.

"Please," you mewl, grinding your hips for him. There's a serenity to your skin; dewy and warm, just how he likes you. Cheeks pink, lips even pinker, he wishes he could preserve this moment forevermore, but has no idea where the fuck his phone is. Has to revel in it instead. Pay attention to every single one of his senses just so that he can recall it in his memories for years to come. But then you speak, and he can't compute fuckin' anything. "Cum for me, babe. Show me how much you love me."

He pulls you back down, not to kiss you, but simply hug you as his hips thrash up into you. Something about the way you call him babe just makes him feel so adored. Precious. Pink. Arms strong around your back, he presses kisses against the curve of your neck. Promises, "Oh, God, I love you."

He repeats it like an oath. A sacred prayer. Again and again, until he can't take it any longer. Asks where you want him to finish, and doesn't get a verbalised answer. Just gets your lips on his, whines in each other's mouths. Tongues, too. Teeth clashing, and absolutely no fucks given. It's frankly a mess, but fuck if it isn't the most at-one with another person he's ever felt. Just makes it so easy to unload himself into you; to fill you with everything that he is.

Hand gripping at the base of your ponytail, he pulls you back. Wants to look at you as the final ropes of his cum escape his body and find a home in yours. Eyes hazy and a little fucked-out, desperately trying not to get distracted by the glitter sparkling on your skin, he nods to let you know he's done.

Repeats, once more, "I fuckin' love you."

And then you're bashful. Giggling, as if he's just said the most sordid thing in the world. He winces a little from the pressure around his sensitive cock, but doesn't pull out. In fact, he keeps his hands firmly on your hips, keeping you in place.

Leaning down to deliver an incredibly sweet kiss, one that he'll want to lick from his lips forever, you whisper, "Good. I am your girlfriend. Would be super awkward if you didn't love me."

He rolls his eyes. Shakes his head. Laughs, now too, then taps your thigh to encourage you off of him, but doesn't let you get too far away. Pulls you in for a hug as soon as you're beside him.

"This shit'll never get old," he says, as he toys with your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. "God, why did it take us so long?"

It's a good question. One that you could theorise answers for—but you're sleepy, and you need to shower again.

"Stupid," is all you reply, pulling away and grabbing a fresh pair of Jeongguk's boxers to slip on just for a little dignity before you walk to the bathroom. He did finish inside you, after all. Is never the neatest of situations. Turning as you reach the doorframe, you're so incredibly enamoured with the way his eyes have followed you, chin pressed to his chest, face a little round from the angle. He's so cute it's hard to remember quite how domineering he had been earlier. "You coming with?"

"Shower?" He asks, to which you nod. "Go start it up. I'll sort the sheets, then join you."

"Want a hand? With the sheets?"

Shaking his head as he gets to his feet, he shoos you off. "I'll be, like, three minutes."

And because you're pathetic and hopelessly in love with the man in front of you, you say, "I'll miss you."

"Gross," he replies with a smirk. "Almost like you love me, or something."

"Nah," you shrug, matching his playful energy. "We're just friends."

"My cum is literally inside you right now."

"Okay, fine ," you exaggerate. " Best friends."

"Get the fuck outta here with that best friends shit," he laughs, as he sets about stripping the bed. "Go. I'll join you."

Eyes trained on you as you walk away, Jeongguk bites down on his bottom lip. Shakes his head. Hates how much of a softie he's being, but just can't help himself.

"Hey, B?" He calls after you.

"What?" You yell back from the bathroom, door ajar to make things easier for him. Expecting some dumb remark, you're grinning from ear to ear because of how easy all this is.

Things are finally falling into place.

As his voice echoes through the apartment, it seems like they're falling right where they were always supposed to.

"Love you."

[phinkslave]

Could you do #1, 11 and 12 with phinks? You don’t have to do all of them but I loveee the prompts

Unbreakable bond

1: “I want to hear you beg.”

11: “Don’t close your eyes. Look at me. “

12: “You’re mine.”

Of course! I truly hope you like this aha since it is my first ever piece of writing. I tried my best, and if u think I need any tips or so on let me know! I didn’t make it as dark as I would have hoped for but please enjoy. 🫶🏼

Warnings: Smut, minor violence, noncon (sort of), yandere behavior

It’s been around two months since he’s taken you. You’ve dreaded every moment. Simple things like watching movies or even reading books didn’t interest you anymore, but you had to pretend. You were scared to show any protest against him. He was dangerous. He was strong. You wanted was freedom, but the question was how? How would you get away from him. He’s stronger, faster, and just more able than you’ll ever be. Knowing that just made you feel hopeless. You’re trapped forever.

__________________________________________

“Listen, me and the troupe got a mission. It’ll take at least a whole day so, if you want any take out or such, let me know.” Phinks said as he entered your guys’ shared room.

Well you insist to sleep on the couch but, he’d never let that slide.

You could only manage to mumble a little “okay.” In his direction, not even looking him. Which he seemed to have expected. Phinks has always been a patient man, and as much as you hate to admit, he was trying his best to treat you nice, be all sweet, to tend to all your needs. You sort of appreciated how kind he was, especially after hearing how his friend feitan broke his girlfriend’s legs. You shuddered at the thought. It reminded you just how much you needed to get out of this place. Phinks had enough strength to break your fingers with a pinch.

“I think we’ll be heading someplace near Yorknew. I heard they got great snacks. Ya interested?” He said in an attempt to cheer you up a bit.

Phinks saying that shook you out of your thoughts, he distrupted your mental plan on how to get the hell out of his little apartment he keeps you in meteor city.

“No.”

“Really? Nothing at all? Heh fine, starve for all I care.”

Then there it was. His annoyed side. Phinks can be a sweetheart, but he can also get upset just as fast.

After spending a few hours in the room, you left. Heading to the kitchen since you finally started feeling the hunger in your stomach. You can only resist food for so long. In the kitchen was a troubled looking phinks who was on the phone.

“I just don’t like this ide-…ima have to call you back nobu.” Is what he said as soon as his eyes laid on you.

“Hey babe, ya hungry?”

“Mhm.”

“Sorry about earlier……do you want anything specific? I’ll bring it to you.”

“No.”

He just watched you as you grabbed an apple and started heading back to the room.

“Hey hey hold on..” grabbing your forearm.

“What.” Poison lacing your tone.

He made an audible loud sigh.

“Listen. I get your upset, I know you wanna go home, but you got to give me more than that. Come on, i just want you to forever be protected. I love you.”

“Well I don’t.” Snatching your arm away with much atitude.

Before you could turn around again he slammed you against the wall, shaking some famous art pieces he stole that were hung up the wall. The slam didn’t hurt, but it was just so aggressive. Tears started to immediately form.

“Listen.” His tone being the most angry you’ve heard so far. “I am trying my best to be the good guy here. Do you know how fucking hard you’re making this for me?”

At this point your tearing up.

“I might as well let it out now. You’re not leaving me. Ever. Okay. Understand that, this, this place is your new home. Understand that, because I won’t have the patience to explain it to you again. You’re mine. Nothing you do will change that. If you think you can leave. Understand that you won’t ever. You love me. And I love you. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes.” Trying not to let sobs spill.

“Good.” He said smiling, wiping your tears. “Now none of that, you know I hate it when you cry.”

He hugged your shaky body.

__________________________________________

That was just 3 weeks ago, but all this boredom being in the house made it feel like a few days back.

Since then you and phinks have made lots of progress. Him being the only person interaction you get, sort of made you have no other choice. If you didn’t treat phinks like a friend, you think you’d truly go insane.

Relationship progress wise, the farthest you and him have ever gone was just a measly makeout. Each time sitting on his lap, facing him, you could feel how hard you’d make him. Which boosted your confidence. Slyly rocking your hips to get him more worked up.

It was amusing. You tried to tell yourself it was okay, making out and basically riding your kidnapper shouldn’t be okay, but overtime you’ve began to like phinks, besides he was pretty handsome, and his little jokes he’d make every now and then, or even how on every mission back he would bring you a stuffed animal or some chocolates.

Thankfully for yourself, he’s never gone as far as you’d like. Limiting himself to only where you’d start and stop. Knowing full well he could pin you down and take whatever he wanted was a thought you’d resurface every now and then, but you trusted him more and more.

Time went on and the more needy you got. Makeouts werent satisfying you enough.

Phinks just got home from a mission.

__________________________________________

“Hey, I was hoping we could watch a movie tonight or something.” You said greeting him at the door.

“Yeah, whatever’s fine.” Giving you a worn out smile and a peck on the lips. “I’m just gonna tidy up a bit.” Clearly dirty from whatever fights he got into.

“Okay! I’ll set up.” You said all cheery.

The thing is, you were hoping to have sex tonight. Being a virgin you want it to be special, but of course phinks didn’t know that. You put some snacks on the table as well as some drinks. A little alcohol won’t ever hurt. Dimming the lights putting some fluffy blankets on the couch and now all that was left to do was click play for the movie.

Around 10 minutes has passed and you got bored having to wait on him so long.

“Phinks! You’re taking so longggg.” You said in a whiny voice.

No response.

“ugh! Phinks.” Getting up you checked the bathroom, and he wasn’t there. So you went to your guys’ bedroom and there he was. Laying in bed, not even under the covers, as if he fell asleep as soon as he made contact with the bed. Wearing nothing but some sweats and a grey tank top.

You were a bit frustrated, but then again it was so adorable seeing his chest rise up and down so slowly. You had an idea.

Walking up to him, you got on top, straddling his waist. His eyes opened, all droopy.

“Sorry sorry, I swear they were just shut.” He said all groggy.

“It’s okay, we can do other things….” Leaning down to kiss him, trailing down from his jaw to his neck.

You felt his jaw tense up a bit under your kisses, and soon feeling his hands grip your wait somewhat harsh.

“This is better than a movie.” He thought he could be subtle about it, but you felt his tiny grinds against your clothed core. But you played along, grinding against him as needy as ever, letting a few whines drop from your lips, he got the memo.

“It’s like that?” He said smirking up at you, all you managed to do was let out a few huffs, getting tired already dry humping him.

He got up, you still straddling his waist. Turned around and laid you gently on the bed. Hearing a few silent protests from you due to the lack of contact.

He took his tank top off, you finally realizing just how built this man was. It looked like his abs had abs, he had such a prominent v-line, and his arms were bigger then your remember. “Like what you see?” He said all cocky, clearly noticing how in awe you were. But it didn’t do nothing but make you nervous. What if he didn’t like your body?

“Just touch me already?”

“Oh it’s not as simple as that, ya know how long you’ve made me wait? I want to hear you beg.”

“I am not begging.”

“That’s a shame….” He leaned over picking up his tank top, but before he could put it on again,

“Okay okay fine….please….just touch me.”

“Boringgg, that’s the best you can do?”

“I will bite you.”

“Yeah yeah, your lucky your cute.” He leaned down taking your tshirt off. “No bra?” Bending down to suck your nipple, causing you to get out some more moans. Geez, he knew how to work his mouth. He got up again from leaning down, this time taking his and yours pants off, being left in nothing but your underwear’s. First, he took yours off, clearly noticing your embarrassment “you’re so beautiful.”

Using his hands to open your legs more apart allowing his fingers room to gently start caressing your clit.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I need you begging.”

This time you didn’t care, you needed him, you had to.

“Please phinks, please I need you so bad, I crave-“ before you could finish you yelped, feeling a finger enter you, causing you to squirm so much he had to hold u down a bit with his other hand.

“Tell me how much you love me.” Adding another finger.

“I love you! I love you so so much.”

“Geez, this wet for me babe?”

“Mhm all for you-“ you stopped talking, being to focused on his fingers in you. And he let you, silently smirking to himself, letting you to enjoy the feeling. As soon as your legs started shaking, he moved his fingers.

“Can’t have you finishing already now can we?”

You looked at him all teary eyed due to your almost orgasm, cheeks all red.

“Keep looking at me like that I’ll finish before you.” He said in a chuckle, racing to let his cock free.

You watched how it sprung against his stomach as soon as he let it out. Kind of scared and regretting all of this. What would he think when he knew you were a virgin? Would that even fit?

He gave himself a few pumps, “we don’t need no condom.” He said, approaching you again, but this time you scooted yourself across the bed a bit, giving distance between you two.

“I don’t think it will fit.”

“Of course it will, c’mere babe.”

“No.”

“What? What’s wrong? You being f’real right now?”

You looked at him all nervous before he let out a sigh. Grabbing you by your ankles causing you to be as close as he needed.

“Don’t be silly, we were doing so well.” Aligning himself with your entrance.

“Stop phinks I’m serious.”

“Nah. Don’t worry you got this alright?”

Trying to scoot away again he held your wrists down.

“I’m a virgin!” You yelped out.

He looked at you. Chuckling.

“Is that what’s got you so worked up? Sweetheart, if anything that’s better, anyways I’ll be gentle yeah?”

“Please phinks….”

“You know you wanted this so bad, I’m just tryna give you what you what.”

Despite your protests, he held your wrists above your head with one hand in order to have his other free to guide his tip inside. You shut your eyes. He stopped as soon as he saw.

“Don’t close your eyes. Look at me.”

When you didn’t listen he got frustrated. He gave your face a few light but harsh taps, and then grabbed a hold of your neck.

“Listen to me.”

Your eyes opened. But this time you were sobbing uncontrollably.

“Good girl. Hey hey, none of that just let me take care of you baby.” Wiping some of your tears.

“I don’t want this.”

“Sure you do, you just don’t know it yet.”

And with that, he slowly entered, he made no effort to hide his grunts, holding eye contact with you as his hand around your throat didn’t allow you to move your head around.

As soon as he felt him ease into you, he let go of your wrists and neck allowing you to grip the bedsheets freely and him holding your hips.

“Feel better now?” His head in your neck, rocking his hips at a painfully slow pace. He wanted you to adjust first for a few minutes. It took all of him to not just start slamming into you.

“Nhm hm.” You said, holding your moans inside, your arms wrapping around his neck.

Eventually his pace fastened, and you couldn’t hold your moans in anymore, his thrusts getting harder since your moans were encouragement to him.

“ ‘m bout to phinks-!”

“No, not yet.” He said and he started to rub your clit. He knew you’d cum, but he liked the thought of him fucking your overstimulated body.

“Is t’much!” You squirming trying to push him off.

“Almost baby, almost.” And with that you came undone under him, shaking vigorously, cumming on his cock. That sight alone was enough to almost have him undone.

“Stop! Stop!” You screamed out, pushing against him but he just grabbed your wrists, pinning them on your tummy with your arms crossed.

“A bit more.” He said through his teeth, as he finally came undone inside you. the feeling of his cum still causing you to shake. After a minute of him laying on you, both of you out of breath, he finally pulled out, you shuddered at the feeling of cum dripping out of you. He left, and came back with some napkins, wiping you clean.

“Sorry about the mess….” He broke the silence.

“Can we sleep now…” you confused on the whole situation. You didn’t know if you liked what had just happened or if it was against your will.

“Sure.” He said, lifting you up so he could pull the covers down, and climbed into bed next to you.

Letting your thoughts drift you to sleep as he kissed your temple, the last words you heard was a cheeky I love you.

[our-happygirl500-fan]

Something that I have kind of been thinking about are all the various dynamics that Big Mama seems to have with the Hamato Clan.

Leo: Just the spider I was coming to gloat to.

Big Mama: I am not one to be outmanoeuvred my turtle boo. Well done. 

With Leo it almost seems as though Big Mama has possibly been set up as a foil for Leo, with Leo being the member of the Hamato Clan that was able to outmanoeuvre Big Mama in the episode 'Many Unhappy Returns' & was able to see through Big Mama's deceit in the episode 'Bug Busters'.

Something that I have seen a few people talk about are the possible parallels between Big Mama & Leo as they are both able to twist situations into something in their own favour, however they also contrast each other as Big Mama seems to be primarily motivated for her own gain while Leo is motivated by trying to keep his family safe.

Splinter: From you, as we tangoed the night away.

With Splinter, Big Mama has a complicated history as exes, with Big Mama having betrayed Splinter's trust & forced him to fight in the Battle Nexus however their relationship also seems slightly more complicated in the fact that they possibly seem to still have some kind of feelings for one another as in the episode 'The Ancient Art of Ninja Hide and Seek' it's shown that Big Mama kept a photo of them & Splinter went to retrieve the photo & towards the end of the episode 'Battle Nexus New York' Splinter attempted to save Big Mama from the Shredder & in the final episode of Rise, Big Mama did seem to help the Turtles find where the Shredder had taken Splinter & Draxum.

Big Mama: We both know my train is the only way to secretly move your cargo to the shrine.

Draxum: And I’m paying a heavy price for not asking questions

With Draxum, Big Mama has been portrayed as both a sort of rivals Draxum having originally taken Lou Jitsu from her in the episode 'Goyle, Goyles, Goyles' & Big Mama has tried to use Draxum's oozesquitoes for her Battle Nexus in the episode 'Bug Busters', however they are also kind of portrayed as bussiness partners as well as in the episode 'Insane in the Mama Train' Draxum was also the one who gave Big Mama the orb she needed for her Battle Nexus New York plan & Big Mama was the one who gave Draxum the opportunity to transport the Dark Armour creating the impression that Big Mama & Draxum will work together if it benefits them but will double cross each other if there is more to gain.

Something I kind of wonder about however is what their dynamic would be like after Draxum's redemption.

Donnie: I have only one question. How dare you?

With Donnie their dynamic seems to be Donnie showing a dislike towards Big Mama whenever they interact with each other whether due to Donnie still holding a grudge over Big Mama trying to use him & betraying his trust in the episode 'Bug Busters' or that Donnie is simply just generally upset at everything Big Mama has done to his family but something that I think is kind of interesting is that Donnie might possibly be the Turtle that almost kind of seems to show his dislike towards Big Mama the most out of the Hamato Clan.

Big Mama: You did your part so I will do mine

Something I also kind of think about is Big Mama's Assistant being one of the missing Turtle siblings meaning Big Mama kind of technically raised a member of the Hamato Clan which kind of makes me wonder how it would affect Big Mama's other dynamics with the rest of the Hamato Clan if they knew who Big Mama's Assistant was.

Raph: Heh.. uh… H-Hi..Big Mama.

Big Mama: Hello turtley boo

With Raph when Big Mama interacts with him in the episode 'Raph's Ride Along', Big Mama seems to act amused towards Raph while Raph seems to act nervous around her, this could possibly be due to what was going on during the episode however this could also be a glimpse into their dynamic of Raph possibly being intimidated by Big Mama due to knowing that she is dangerous & Big Mama simply being amused by Raph as she doesn't seem to view him as a threat to her.

Something that I kind of wonder about is what Big Mama's dynamic could have possibly been like with Mikey & April if we could have seen them interact properly with each other.

[buddiebeginz]

If they are keeping Lou around for any part of season 8 the show has to put an end to the cameo nonsense. Some of the Buck/Oliver takes that are starting to make the rounds are next level insane. I saw one scolding Oliver for making Lou do all the promoting of the ship. Another post said the writers needed to up Buck's game because he's not at the level of commitment yet that Tommy is being written (wtf when were these episodes). And yet another post scolding Oliver for promoting Buddie and Buck for continuing to spend time with Eddie.

They are taking these PAID (you paid him to say this shit) videos and making them canon. No part of anything he's saying is canon. Firstly, he wouldn't be allowed to tell them any actual canon facts and secondly Oliver/Buck is the character/actor the show gives a shit about. He's encouraging this nonsense and it's gross. Him promoting himself is fine, it's low-key cringe given the fact the other half of the ship is silent but you do you, babe. Oliver's silence is what's pissing his fans off. Seriously tell me you're new to Captain Starks ways without telling me you're new. He promotes no ship but the Buddie ship, canon or not. These people are here for Lou. When he goes, happy for him to take them with him.

I'm not sure why they keep letting him do those cameos especially after he pissed people off when he said T*mmy being homophobic and racist to Hen and Chim was just teasing. He also talked about people recognizing him in Thailand in the AH interview and did this fake stereotypical asian accent. 🤦‍♀️He really needs a better agent and some media training because they'd for sure tell him to knock that shit off.

I could see the cameos being fun to do a few times when he first came back to the show even to garner excitement about B/T and T*mmy but the fact that he's done so many now and has even raised the price just makes him look desperate for attention. And like you said he gives all these headcanons about T*mmy in his videos that his obsessive fans have taken for absolute fact. We would never hear the end of it if Buddie fandom was paying Ryan for videos like that.

I agree with you that a majority of B/T stans are here first and foremost for T*mmy and Lou not Buck and Oliver. I still can't believe that a lot of them used to be Buddie shippers. I think everyone should be able to ship what they want including multishipping but I don't get how some of them dropped a ship they were seemingly invested in for years for the nothing that is B/T.

That part of fandom also loves to call us delusional and say we're seeing only what we want to see but a lot of times we're just pointing out what's actually happening. Like in the recent episode T*mmy was being a downer to Buck's enthusiasm (which has basically become the norm for them). The camera also paned to Eddie after Buck got his award not T*mmy. Buck chose to run off to Eddie's after work not to T*mmy's. These are things the show is literally showing us not just stuff we're imagining.

It's similar with Oliver. They can come up with all the reasons in the world why he's never promoted B/T through this entire season but it doesn't matter because he still hasn't and likely won't. I've seen them say Oliver doesn't post anything about B/T or Lou to avoid dealing with the hate or to not upset Buddie fans or to protect Lou. The thing is though Oliver has left social media before when he's had issues and could again if he wanted to. He's also been dealing with homophobic comments since Buck came out but he's never shied away from talking about Buck coming out and has even addressed the hate on his insta.

Oliver liked a couple of B/T pieces of art when the story first happened but I think that was more to support the bi Buck storyline and the artists than anything else. Multiple times during this season he's liked Buddie art (including a tattoo which he commented on three times) he's also posted Buddie related and Ryan stuff on his stories. If he wanted to show support to Lou or B/T he could easily post on his stories where people can't comment. B/T stans can think what they want but it's clear Oliver doesn't promote any of that because he's rooting for Buddie harder than anyone. I think he knows B/T isn't going to be around forever and he's trying not to lead people on about it as he's said in the past he hates to do that.

I really hope we can get rid of T*mmy at the end of s7 although knowing Tim he'll probably keep him for added drama until s8. Unfortunately even when B/T ends I expect those fans to do a lot of complaining because they've concocted this whole idea in their head that T*mmy is Buck's endgame soulmate. They even want T*mmy to be added on as main character and get a begins episode. So I fully expect some of them to riot when he inevitably gets the ax. The rest will probably run back to Buddie the minute it becomes canon and try to pretend they never left. Jokes on them though because a lot of Buddie shippers have blocked them for how awful they've been this season especially towards Eddie.