#i don't watch him and all i know about him are posts about him being pathetic or smth?

[motorsportbarbie13]

Aftermath - Chapter 5

Aftermath - MV33 - Chapter 1 Aftermath - Chapter 2 Aftermath - Chapter 3 Aftermath - Chapter 4 Master List

When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make something out of nothing for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.

warnings: this chapter contains language and descriptions that illustrate abuse (mental and emotional). please don't engage with my work if you find any of the topics triggering. lando is, once again, an absolute asshole in this. i'd also like to point out that this is a character i am writing, i in no way am insinuating or implying the real lando is like this in any way.

pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader

word count: 4k or something like that?

(Everyone say ‘thank you’ to @lestapiastrisgirl for beta reading and helping me through late night plot crisis so this can come out today!!)

f1.gossip.source posted

f1.gossip.source It's been months since @/Lando and @/MissLeClerc have been spotted togtether and we're starting to wonder...are they even together anymore?! Lando was spotted out alone in Monaco, looking annoyed at fans calling his name while his (ex???) girlfriend was papped out and about with none other than...Max Verstappen. Again. Rumors about the LeClerc sister and Dutch driver started to swirl right around the time her and Lando stopped being seen out in public...What do we think, chat??? Has little miss leclerc finally ditched the cocky British pilot for a new Dutch beau??? user029 maybe she got tired of having to parent her boyfriend??? user220 if it's true, she's really upgraded. 4 time world champion vs...what??? 4 time race winner. please. user0298 he never supported her art or anything, i'm not surprised she's moved on. max always looks smitten with her.

“Lando, you have got to get this under control.” The head of McLaren’s communications team hisses, her glare shooting daggers at the driver who’s just walked into the the hospitality building ahead of the race in Belgium. 

Lando glances up from his phone, face pale and eyes worried. “How the fuck am I supposed to control what the gossip pages post?” 

Marina throws her hands up in the air as she paces, her McLaren team kit wrinkled from lack of sleep thanks to the British driver. In the four weeks since your argument with Lando after Austria, things have only gotten worse. You’re still not talking to him and he still hasn’t figured out where the hell you’re living. You’re not staying with Charles and Alexandra or Jade, he’s been subtly watching both buildings. He knows you’re still in Monaco because you’ve been papped out with your family and friends but most maddeningly Max Verstappen. 

Everyone seems to have noticed you’re not living with Lando anymore, your appearances in his streams have dwindled down to nothing. Fewtrell has had to start banning people form his chat because they won’t stop asking about you and what’s going on. Everyone knows that something went down but you’re straight up refusing to behave like an adult and come back to Lando, where you belong and it’s infuriating. 

“You can’t, obviously.” Marina sighs, sitting down at one of the high top tables in the middle of the suite. 

Around her, the Thursday afternoon crew of engineers and communications people buzz, all prepping for their weekends. Everyone seems to be acting normal but Lando can feel their glares on his back as he walks through the building. They all know he’s causing the entire team grief by causing so much drama with you, taking the attention away from the decent start to the year they’d had before all hell had broken loose a few months ago. 

“But,” She continues, leveling a glare at Lando. “You either need to bite the bullet and release a joint statement with her announcing your breakup or you need to get her to the track this weekend and make a big show of a united front. It’s up to you Lando, but you need to do something. I can’t keep saying ‘no comment’ whenever we’re asked about the distraction this is causing the team.” 

Lando pulls at his curls, like hell he’s going to admit that you’d left him. He supposed he could go rogue and release a statement without you. That way he could control the narrative and try to get the fans back on his side if he made something up like a cheating scandal or something. The moment that the thought flutters through his mind, he forces it out. For some fucking reason, the fans seem to have a soft spot for you and it’s maddening. Lando knew there was no way he could get public opinion on his side, not with how he was getting ripped apart on socials right now. 

“We’re not broken up.” He bites out, taking a sip out of his water bottle as he contemplates what he can do. 

Marina glances up from her phone, brow lifted in question. “That’s not what it looks like here.” She turns her phone towards Lando and shows him a photo of you descending the stairs of a private jet that’s just landed in Belgium. In front of you, already down the stairs and waiting on the tarmac for you is your brother with Leo cradled in his arms. 

And behind you? A fiery rage burns bright and hot in Lando’s chest when he sees who’s behind you. 

Fucking Max Verstappen. 

The look you’re giving him makes his heart twist and for the first time since this entire thing began, Lando actually misses you. He misses the way you used to smile up at him like that, like your entire world revolved Lando and no one else. He missed the way your eyes would follow him around a room, how your body would center towards his. The way you looked at Max was how you used to look at him and it made jealousy twist violently deep in Lando’s gut just looking at the photo. 

“I’ll take care of it.” Lando spits before stalking off to the privacy of his drivers room. 

f1.gossip.source posted

f1.gossip.source Alexandra, Charles, and his little sister were seen arriving in Belgium this afternoon on Max Verstappen's private jet. It's yet another instance where the LeClerc sister was spotted without boyfriend Lando Norris, sparking new breakup rumors. Neither party has confirmed if they're still together, with McLaren PR insisting that the personal lives of their drivers are off limits. user019 honestly, I'm here for a LeClerc sister & Max relationship. >>>user028 me too. at least Max seems to actually like her, unlike Lando user0029 I mean, we all can see it. Why can't they just confirm it already??? user2333 fully on board the 'get her away from Lando train' ROOTING FOR YOU MAX!!! Get your girl!!! user029 my friend was out at the restaurant they were all at a few weeks ago and said that Lando crashed the dinner but left after a few minutes looking PISSED. >>>user029 honestly, Lando is kind of unhinged rn. get over her my man, move onnnnnnn!

“I can’t believe you got me to agree to come this weekend.” You grumble as you follow Max towards the paddock gates Friday morning before practice. 

“You’ve barely been to any races this year and it’s almost the end of July!” Max shoots over his shoulder, grinning like an idiot he’s so happy you decided to come this weekend. 

“I was at Monaco!” You protest lamely, shoving your elbow into your brother’s ribs when he laughs. 

“You live in Monaco, that doesn’t count Little Dove.” Charles chuckles, rubbing at the sore spot where you’d just assaulted him. 

“Whatever.” You mutter, rolling your eyes. 

After arriving in Belgium last night, you had gone straight to your hotel room, needing a bit of alone time ahead of what you were sure was going to be a stressful weekend. As usual, you’d been papped arriving on Max’s jet, which you were certain Lando had seen because the moment you had checked your messages in the SUV Max had rented for your little group, there had been a text waiting for you from him. 

I know you probably don’t want to see me and I get that. I’m sorry, from the bottom of my heart. Can we please get together this weekend and talk? Somewhere neutral if that’s what you want…

As you settled into the hotel room that was yours for the weekend, a war was being fought in your brain. On one hand, you didn’t trust a single thing coming from Lando’s mouth. Not a single thing. He hadn’t given you any reason to trust anything that he said for months, so why should you start now? But on the other hand…

On the other hand, you and Lando had so much history. His message seemed remorseful. You knew everyone in your life would kill you if you even entertained the idea of getting back with him but somewhere deep in your chest a little voice was saying maybe you should hear him out. He was finally leaving you alone, finally backing off, why did he have to pop up right when you thought you had finally gotten him fully out of your system?

You didn’t tell anyone Lando had texted you. Had been texting you all morning as well. You knew no one would understand. But you also hadn’t returned a single text either. The energy that responding to Lando would take was something that you just didn’t have today. 

Your little group is captured by photographers as you walk in, a few even call out your name asking where you’ll be spending your time this weekend. Since dating Lando, you liked to split your time between the McLaren garage and Ferrari but this weekend was going to be different. Your VIP pass had Charles’ face and name on the back, not Lando’s. You had credentials from Ferrari like normal but this morning, Max had also slipped a Red Bull card around your neck, telling you if you got sick of looking at all that red this weekend, you could spend time with him. 

“Are you going to come to the dark side this weekend and use those Red Bull credentials to whip up some gossip?” Max murmurs in your ear, watching as Charles trots off ahead of you after Leo. 

You bump your shoulder with his, rolling your eyes and laughing lightly. “Stop.”

Mischief plays in Max’s pale blue eyes as he smiles down at you, enjoying the way your cheeks flush under his attention. Ever since the race in Austria a few weeks ago, you and the Dutch driver had been spending a lot of time together, all casual but he’d really begun to look forward to the nights you spent curled up on his couch eating takeout and watching bad reality tv with him. 

Before he has a chance to reply though, he sees the color drain from your face as you freeze in the middle of the sidewalk. Whipping his head around, Max searches for what, or more accurately, who has spooked you. He already knows who he’s looking for so when his eyes settle on the McLaren driver standing just outside the sliding glass doors of the McLaren hospitality building across the paddock, his stomach lurches. 

You had known you’d see Lando this weekend. How could you not? This was literally his workplace too. There was no way to avoid him, you knew that but you hadn’t expected to see him so quickly and before you had managed to work out how to respond to his text from the night before. 

Your brother is between where you stand and McLaren’s hospitality so he clocks Lando staring after you at about the same time as you and Max. Turning on his heel, he scoops up Leo and makes a bee line back to where you stand, utterly frozen. 

���Dovie.” Max coos in your ear, twining his fingers with yours in an attempt to pull you out of the state you’re in. “Hey, sweet girl, look at me.” 

You ignore him, gaze locked on Lando’s frozen frame. 

Charles steps in between you and Lando, instantly cutting off your line of sight. This seems to yank you back to reality and your brother snaps into action. “Shit. I’ve got a meeting in five minutes. I don’t want her alone.” Your brother sounds panicked, like the way you’re just staring blankly ahead is really freaking him out. 

So, he improvises. “Here, take Leo and go take a walk. There’s tons of open space on the other side of the paddock.” Charles presses the small dog into your hands and you drop your gaze away from Lando for the first time in several moments. 

Your gaze drops to where your hand is still clutched in Max’s larger one. The steady warmth from his presence grounds you, allowing you to pull in a full breath for the first time in several minutes. 

“No, she’s not going off on her own.” Max cuts in, tone sharp. “I’ve got some time before I need to be in the car. Come stay in Red Bull with me until practice, then you can watch from my garage, okay?” 

The force of his words leave little wiggle room for argument and Charles can’t help but smirk a little. He should have known Max would step right up to make sure you were taken care of. 

“Yeah.” You agree weakly, finally tearing your gaze away from Lando, who is still starting at you, light eyes sharp and observant. You can feel the way his gaze drops to where Max’s hand is curled around yours possessively. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

Without waiting for Lando to get any more ideas like wanting to try to come talk to you, Max tugs on your hand. He knows you well enough by now to know that you need a distraction and you need it fast. “Come on, you said you wanted to stir up some gossip this weekend, well here’s your chance.” 

You laugh despite yourself, nuzzling your face into Leo’s soft fur. “I’m keeping the dog.” You tell your brother as you allow yourself to be led away by Max. All Charles does is nod, relieved to know that you’re in good hands while he’s busy. 

missleclerc posted

24,029 likes liked by maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc, redbullracing, and others missleclerc in my defense, I was kidnapped ☝🏻 maxverstappen1 whatever, you wanted to be there. >>>missleclerc lies. It was a hostage situation. >>>maxverstappen1 is that what the kids are calling it these days? >>>user299 chat, are they flirting in the comments??? WE CAN SEE YOU TWO charlesleclerc can't believe you subjected your nephew to this. please make sure you take a shower before dinner tonight. >>>missleclerc rude. user0209 ya know, I'm kinda here for this ship. >>>user987 did you see how utterly distracted Max was during the one interview where she walked past him? couldn't take his eyes off her >>>user0209 lando's gonna be crashing out after seeing that interview tonight >>>user3443 GOOD. bro deserves it

“I think you may need to roll me up to my room after that dinner.” You groan, rubbing at the food baby making your black leather skirt pinch painfully at your hips. 

After qualifying Saturday evening, when the boys were all finished with their media and team duties, Max had insisted that you, your brother, Alexandra and himself all go out to dinner. He’d wanted to insist it just be the two of you but he wasn’t blind to the gossip you two had stirred up in the paddock Friday afternoon so he’d figured bringing your brother and his girlfriend along would be a bit safer. 

“I think I ate my weight in spaghetti.” Alexandra groans beside you as you plod towards the front doors of the hotel. “Carry me up to the room please, Cha?” She coos, throwing her arms around your brother’s neck as if she can’t go on one step more.

 Charles laughs, snaking his arms around her waist and pulls her close, dropping a kiss on her forehead, a gesture so tender and intimate you have to turn away. Your gaze immediately connects with Max who is standing a few paces behind your brother and his girlfriend. A small smile tips up at the corner of his full lips when you make eye contact at him and your stomach swoops at the affection for you in his eyes. 

You’re imagining things, you think instantaneously. There’s no way Max sees you as anything other than a friend, after everything that you’ve endured while he’s watched. How could anyone like Max be attracted to someone who had spent an entire year drowning in a failing relationship? It was likely a pity smile, something he gives you because he feels sorry that you haven’t found what your brother has found in Alexandra. 

“There you are…” A smooth British accent interrupts your thoughts, jarring you out of your spiral. “You stopped answering my texts.” Lando says pointedly as he joins your little group in the lobby of the hotel. 

Your eyes shutter closed as you blow out a breath. You had been hoping to avoid this confrontation all together but it was just another nail in the coffin of why Max wouldn’t even want to begin to get involved with you in the first place. Why would he willingly want to be with someone who was still so intertwined with her ex still? You’ve spent so long with Lando, were so intertwined with him it would certainly be easier to just go back to him, wouldn’t it? Maybe he was all you deserved after wasting three years of your life. 

“I was at dinner, Lando. It’s rude to text during a meal.” You carefully control the tone of your voice, not wanting to instigate yet another public altercation with him. 

“Ah, yes. I’m sure the company was riveting.” His eyes flicker over to where Max stands, stiff and unmoving, the smile that he’d just been showering you with totally gone from his face. “So, what do you say, can we finally talk like two adults?” 

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, Norris.” Charles cuts in, voice sharp and short. 

“I think your sister can answer for herself, LeClerc.” There’s a challenge in Lando’s eyes that you don’t miss and you know you have about five seconds to diffuse the situation before it gets out of hand. Again. 

Placing your hand on Lando’s elbow, you tug him away. “If you promise to chill out and actually listen to me, we can go to the bar and get a drink. One drink, Lando. Can you do that?” 

If you had been looking at Max then, you would have seen the light flicker out of his eyes. He’s grateful that his hands are tucked away in his pockets when he hears your words because the way the ball up into tight fists would be embarrassing had anyone seen it. He wants to say something, anything, that might convince you to not walk away with him. He wants to tell you how he’s feeling, how this afternoon with you in his drivers room and then garage was the best start to a race weekend he’d had in recent memory. He wants to beg you not to go with Lando. 

But he can’t. He can’t because he still hasn’t worked up the courage to tell you how he feels. Max is stuck in this painful sort of limbo where you two spend time together and he craves any bit of attention he can glean from you but it’s not enough for him to risk your fragile state of being right now. He knows you’re still recovering from leaving Lando. Three years is a long time to spend with someone, even if the last year was as painful as Lando had made it for you. He knows you’re not ready for him to tell you how he’s feeling but he’s afraid if he doesn’t, you’ll go running back to Lando. 

While the internal debate about what to do with his feelings rages on inside, Max watches as a cat-like grin spreads slowly across Lando’s face. He’s won. Lando’s won and they both know it. 

“Of course, baby.” 

You bristle at the name but without the energy to fight him, all you do is roll your eyes. Max’s mask of indifference somehow staying in place when he hears the nickname, but it tears him up on the inside. He’s not sure how he manages it. 

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Thanks for dinner, Max.” Taking a step towards Max, you fold yourself into him, enjoying the way his arms come around your waist without hesitation. The hug is firm and he holds onto you for several moments longer than necessary. 

 “I can stay down here if you want me to.” He murmurs in your ear, his breath tickling the shell of your ear, sending a cool shiver of pleasure down your spine. 

“I’m a big girl, I can handle him.” 

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” He responds, looking down at you. You’re surprised to see a stark look of concern all over his face, like he’s genuinely worried about you. 

“Max, I’m fine. It’s just one drink.” 

But Max knows Lando. It’s not just going to be one drink. But what other choice does he have? Reluctantly, he releases you and takes a step back, forcing himself out of arms length. You instantly miss the grounding warmth of his body and fight to keep your expression neutral. 

Max watches you walk away, shoulder brushing with Lando’s and has to resist the urge to rub at the painful clenching sensation that wraps itself around his heart. 

“You don’t have to watch her leave.” Charles murmurs, standing off to the side with a worried looking Alexandra. They both share Max’s opinion that this is a bad idea but like Max, what else can they say?

Max scrubs at his face, suddenly so overwhelmingly exhausted that all he wants to do is climb into bed and sleep until the race tomorrow. “What am I supposed to do, Charles?” He throws his hands up in defeat as you disappear around the corner just as Lando’s arm slips around your waist. “I don’t have a single claim on her, she’s not mine to miss.” 

His stomach twists painfully at the thought of having to go back to his hotel room knowing you’re touching him. 

“She won’t go back to him.” Charles says with more confidence than Max can muster up himself. “She’s been doing so well lately and we all see it’s partially because of you, mate.”

“Don’t give up on her, Max. Not yet.” Alexandra offers quietly, stepping closer to Charles before reaching out and placing a hand on Max’s shoulder. “She’s stronger than we all think but she’s going to need your patience right now. It’ll be okay.” 

The way it physically hurt watching you walk away had alarm bells ringing in Max’s head. He hadn’t realized just how attached to you he’d become in the time since you’d left Lando and it terrified him. If you went back to Lando tonight, he had this gut feeling he’d lose you forever and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to endure that. 

Max barely sleeps that night, tossing and turning for hours trying to convince himself he hadn’t just watched you walk right out of his life again. He knew he was, once again, getting ahead of himself and that he needed to wait before going into full spiral mode but he couldn’t quite get himself there. 

By the time he’s downstairs in the hotel lobby the next morning, waiting for the car that Red Bull had hired for him, he’s exhausted and on the brink of biting someone’s head off. 

“You doing okay over there, Verstappen? You seem a little…irritated.” 

Max turns and has to stifle a groan. “Why can’t you just leave well enough alone, Lando?” 

Lando has the nerve to look confused, brows furrowing as he tilts his head to the side. “I have no idea what you’re on about, mate.” 

It takes every ounce of control Max has honed over the years not to punch the British driver square in the face. “Why are you so fixated on her now that she’s finally trying to get away from you?” 

Lando smirks, quick and ugly, before he shakes his head. “See, now that’s where you’re wrong Max.” He reaches over and pats at Max’s shoulder patronizingly. “I don’t think she really wants to get away form me anymore. Not after last night.” 

It feels like the breath has been sucked out of Max’s lungs at Lando’s words. “What the fuck are you talking about?” He hisses, heat creeping up his neck. 

“You’re a smart man, Max. Use that big brain of yours. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.” Lando grins like the Cheshire Cat as he shrugs. “Oh look, my ride’s here. Good luck out there today, Verstappen.” 

Without waiting for a response because he knows full well he’s caught Max completely off guard, Lando saunters off, hands deep in his pockets, without a second look back at the Dutch driver. 

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[aleskie]

YOU DON'T NEED TO LIFT A FINGER | Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: When a guy just cannot get the hint, Jack makes sure to put him in his place. He's got your back. Always.

Warnings: none!! pure fluff and jack gets protective!! Full discloure, this is for realsies Fem!Reader!! Author's Note: This was supposed to come out a dayyyyys ago but Tumblr was NOT letting me post my drafts 😭😭 my poor therapist spent an hour watching me crash out about it najsjsshjjk

You were beautiful.

Of course you were.

In Jack’s eyes, you were the most beautiful creature to ever walk the earth.

Which is why he understands why you get hit on. He really does. Hell, once upon a time, he was hitting on you. And he still hits on you, even now, years into the relationship, because you’re worth it. Because you light up rooms without even trying. Because he’s always been a sucker for the way you roll your eyes and smile at his cheesy attempts to be smooth with you.

You’re beautiful and smart and funny, and you’re so effortlessly charming—of course people would want you for themselves. He gets it. He really does. And honestly, there’s a part of him that loves it. He loves that people notice those qualities about you, that they see in you what he sees every day. It feels like validation, like the universe itself is confirming that he’s the luckiest guy alive. He basks in the knowledge that no matter how many people give you those hungry looks and shitty pick-up lines, he’s the one you're coming home with, his hand resting possessively on your hip as he gives all those people a smirk, his claim laid without him even lifting a finger.

What he doesn’t love is when people don’t take the damn hint.

And you give a lot of hints.

Take this guy right here—Dave, or Doug, or whatever his name is—He’d somehow wiggled his way into the booth you guys shared with your friends for a night out and, while he seemed harmless at first, he was now solely focused on you. And your legs that were highlighted by the body shimmer Jack helped put on you earlier tonight (his fingers still slightly shimmering to prove it—a badge of honor, in his opinion).

You’d been giving him that polite, fake smile since he joined in—the one Jack knows so well and that always makes him chuckle, the one you use when you’re being patient but are clearly not enjoying yourself—and you’ve barely paid him any attention, save for a few fake laughs and an “Oh, that sounds cool” every so often as Darren, or Dino, continues to brag about himself, not even trying to ask about you (a grave mistake, Jack thinks, since you were the most interesting person he knew).

Jack wonders if this guy even realizes you’ve been leaning against Jack this entire time, your head on his shoulder and his hand resting on your upper thigh, or if he’s chosen to ignore that in favor of trying (and failing) to shoot his shot. Better yet, does he even recognize Jack is here, drink untouched and jaw tightening as he watches Danny (or was it Dylan) lean in just a little too close?

Jack glances at you. You’re still handling it with grace, of course you are. You always do. But he knows you. He sees the subtle tension in your shoulders, the way you lean further against him to put some distance between you and Dexter, the way your fingers tighten around your glass, and he knows you’d rather not have to deal with this.

He shifts slightly and stands, leaning forward to smile at the intruder, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey, Diego, right?” he says. His tone is casual, even pleasant, but there’s steel underneath it.

“It’s Dave, actua—”

Jack extends a hand, cutting through the guy’s attempt at small talk. “Right, yeah. Sorry to interrupt, but I think my girlfriend and I are gonna go dance now.”

He puts an emphasis on girlfriend, just to make sure this guy gets the point.

Jack gives you a soft look, the kind that makes your breath hitch just a little, and you immediately stand up, reaching for him. His arm wraps around you instinctively, his touch steady and familiar. You can already feel the tension in his body lessening now that he has you close, now that he’s leading you away from whatever-his-name-is and back into the safe, easy rhythm of you and him.

But before you can leave, the guy speaks again.

“Sorry, man, didn’t realize she was yours. You know how women are. With that dress and those legs, she was totally leading me on.”

Jack freezes.

For a second, the world seems to pause, almost like he couldn’t believe what was coming out of this guy’s mouth, like he didn’t want to believe anyone could be that stupid.

Slowly, he straightens, turning back toward the guy—Dave or Doug or whatever his name was—with a look so calm it’s almost serene. Too calm. And that’s how you know Jack is angry.

Not the playful kind of angry, where he pretends to pout when you steal the last fry or kiss him everywhere but his lips. Not the frustrated kind, like when he can’t find his keys for the third time that week or when he’s had a particularly bad game.

No, this is something deeper. Colder. Controlled.

His fingers graze your arm lightly, a small, grounding touch meant just for you. It’s subtle, but you know what it means. I’ve got this. You don’t need to lift a finger.

Jack tilts his head ever so slightly. “You wanna say that again?” His voice is so even it borders on soft, a quiet thing wrapped in steel.

Dave—or Dino or Darryl—seems to think Jack is inviting him to elaborate, which is perhaps the worst decision he’s made all night.

“I’m just saying, y’know,” Dave shrugs, his tone shifting to something almost conspiratorial, like he thinks Jack might actually agree with him if he just explains it better. “When women dress like that, you can’t blame a guy for—”

“Yeah, I’m gonna need you to shut up before I do something we both regret.”

Jack doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t have to. The weight of his words alone is enough to send a ripple of silence through the space between them.

Dave blinks, the beginning stages of intimidation creeping onto his face. He glances at you, as if expecting backup, but you’re already leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised as you watch Jack dismantle him.

There’s a small smirk on your lips. Because this? This was a sight you didn’t get to see in public too often.

Many times, people assumed your lovely boyfriend—so easygoing, so effortlessly charming—would lack the sharpness to cut someone down when needed, would stick to uhmms and ahhhs and crassnes.

They mistook his laid-back nature for passivity, his warmth for softness. But you knew better. Your Jack could be quite a wonder with words when he wanted to be. He didn’t need to be loud to command attention. He didn’t need to throw a punch to land a hit.

So you hang back and let him handle this one, finding comfort in the thought of his arms around you later, his breath warm against your ear as you danced the rest of the night away.

“Listen, buddy,” Jack continues, stepping closer. His tone is light, almost conversational, but there’s no mistaking the edge beneath it. “You don’t talk to anyone like that. You definitely don’t get to talk to her like that. You hear me?”

“God, c’mon, man! No need to get all—”

“I already told you to shut up.” Jack’s scowl deepens. His words are slow, deliberate. “The fact that she was polite enough to give you the slightest bit of attention doesn’t mean she was hitting on you. Whatever you thought was going on tonight? Not an invitation.”

Dave—Dino? Derek?—opens his mouth, probably to dig himself into an even deeper hole, but stops when Jack leans in slightly, just enough to make his presence feel heavier. Like a storm cloud about to break.

“She’s kind,” Jack says, voice quieter now, deadlier. “So she tolerated you. But she doesn’t owe you a fucking thing.”

The last of Dave’s bravado starts to crumble. His shoulders inch inward, his gaze flickering around the booth, searching for an exit, for reinforcements—for anything that might save him from this moment.

Jack watches him for a second longer, then exhales sharply, like he’s already bored. “You think being desperate and cocky gets you the girl,” he says, shaking his head. “But I don’t need any of that to keep her by my side.” His fingers brush against yours, finding their place like they always do. “And we don’t need to waste any more time entertaining douchebags like you.”

Jack steps back, his hand sliding fully into yours as he finally tears his gaze from Daniel? Don?—who cares?—and looks at you instead. The shift is immediate, his features easing, the sharpness in his eyes softening into something familiar. Something yours.

“Let’s go, babe,” he says simply, his voice lighter now, more like himself.

And just like that, the moment is over.

As you stand, letting Jack guide you away from the booth, you hear Dave mutter something under his breath—something weak and defensive that doesn’t deserve acknowledgment. It’s the kind of parting shot people throw out when they know they’ve lost. Neither of you glance back.

The music swells around you, the bass thrumming beneath your feet, but Jack doesn’t lead you straight to the dance floor. Instead, he pulls you toward a quieter corner, away from the crowd, where the lights are dimmer, the world a little smaller.

He exhales, then wordlessly nestles his head in the crook of your shoulder.

You smile, running your fingers through his hair, your nails lightly grazing his scalp. He sighs at the touch, his arms slipping around your waist as he lets himself melt into you for just a moment. You press a soft kiss to his hair, breathing him in, grounding both of you in something steady, something real.

After a beat, he tilts his head up, a sheepish grin playing at his lips. “Did I go overboard?”

You roll your eyes fondly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You were absolutely perfect,” you murmur, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

His grin widens, boyish and bright, and just like that, the weight of the night lifts. He tugs you closer, his arm tightening around your waist as he starts to sway you to the music. You laugh as he spins you unexpectedly, sneaking in kisses between the DJ’s transitions, his lips catching your temple, your jaw, the curve of your shoulder.

The man who bothered you is forgotten. The tension, the sharp edges of the night—gone.

All that’s left is this. You and him and the music. The warmth of his hands on you, the sound of your laughter melting together, the rest of the world fading into nothing.

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"Here"

Ok yall I'm back with chapter 7!! Hopefully this posts bc it wasn't working yesterday. Sorry if it's confusing, I rewrote it like 5 times! I tried not to use {y/n} but i mightve slipped up! Hope ya'll enjoy!! The plot is finally moving!! Lmk if you have any questions. Likes, reblogs, and asks motivate me! I love when yall send me your ideas and comments and asks! Wish me luck, I'm posting this and then taking my math exam! If you don't like it, don't read, stop sending mean asks and submissions!

Breakfast the next morning was horrible.

The awkward silence lingered, thick with unspoken words and eyes that felt like they were scanning every inch of you. You could feel their weight on your back, like a thousand invisible hands pushing you deeper into your seat, forcing you to stay in this uncomfortable moment.

You could already feel the heat rising in your chest, but you bit your lip, forcing yourself to take a deep breath. You weren’t going to lose your cool—not yet.

Damian’s gaze was fixed on you, like he was waiting for some kind of reaction, his lips pressed into a thin line. You knew what he was expecting: compliance. Submission. He expected you to shrink back under his scrutiny. And yet, there was something oddly satisfying about not giving him that satisfaction.

Instead, you focused on the plate in front of you, stabbing your fork into the pancakes with far too much force. You were still hungry, but the food felt like cardboard in your mouth, tasteless and dry, even though Alfred’s cooking was always the best.

Bruce was still watching you, his eyes heavy with a kind of expectant patience, like he was just waiting for you to crack. You could feel the tension in the room like a ticking clock, the seconds stretching longer than you’d ever thought possible.

"Why are you all staring at me?" you finally muttered, breaking the silence, your voice low but biting. You didn't look up from your plate, but you could feel the eyes on you. They all thought they could break you. They thought you were some fragile little thing, someone they could fix with their pity and their "family time." But you weren’t. You’d stopped being that person a long time ago.

Dick was the first to speak, his voice softer than usual, like he was trying to tread lightly around you. “We’re just trying to connect, I know it’s been a long time, and things got… complicated, but we don’t want to lose you again. Not after all this time.”

His words weren’t as comforting as he probably thought they were. In fact, they made your skin crawl. He was trying to be kind, but it felt forced, like he was reading from a script. You didn’t need this. Not from him, not from any of them. You wanted them to stop pretending like they could fix everything with a few hugs, a couple of "we missed you"s.

“I didn’t ask for this,” you said quietly, your voice almost a whisper, but it carried a weight. “I didn’t ask to be here. And I didn’t ask to be part of this family anymore.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened at your words, but he didn’t say anything at first. You could feel the flicker of something in his expression—guilt, maybe. Regret. He was looking at you, like he was trying to see the person you used to be. The person you had been before everything fell apart.

You weren’t that person anymore. And he needed to understand that.

“You don’t get to decide that,” Damian suddenly said, his voice a little too sharp. “You can’t just shut us out like this. You’re still a part of this family. Whether you like it or not.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his. " I can shut you all out, I can do whatever I want” you snapped, the frustration leaking through. “You’ve done it to me for years.”

Dick’s brow furrowed, his lips pulling into a frown. For a second, he looked genuinely taken aback by your words, “You don’t understand,” he said, his tone quieter but still laced with an edge. “We didn’t abandon you. Not on purpose. You think we didn’t care? You just never seemed to need help.”

You could feel the sting of his words, but you pushed it down, locking it away. You weren’t going to break. Not for him. Not for any of them. Of course you never needed help, you were too busy trying to be perfect.

“I was just a kid,” you replied, your voice a little rawer, louder than you intended. “And I was ignored by the people who were supposed to be there for me. So fuck you and fuck your family time too.”

There was a long pause, everyone looked around in shock, not expecting you to be so combatant and then Jason finally spoke up, his tone softer than usual, less teasing. “We’re trying, okay? I'm trying. We’re not perfect, and I’m not asking you to just forget everything. But we want to try. Let us try.”

You shot him a look, your eyes narrowing. “Trying isn’t good enough,” you muttered, your voice tight. “Not when it’s years too late. I don't want scraps of love anymore, not when i've had the real deal.”

Everyone seemed to quiet at the last part of your statement, suspicious of what it meant and from who you received "love" from. What convinced you that you didn't need them anymore?

“Then what do you want?” Tim interjected, his voice suddenly sharper, more direct than before. “What do you want from us? We’re here, and we’re trying to make it right. But you’ve got to meet us halfway.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell them that nothing would ever be good enough, that the damage was already done. But you didn’t. Instead, you just stared at Tim, meeting his eyes with a challenge of your own. You didn’t owe them answers. Not anymore.

“I don’t know,” you said finally, your voice quieter now, almost defeated. “I don’t know what I want.”

It was the truth. You didn’t know what you wanted. You didn’t know if there was anything they could do to fix things. But one thing was certain: you didn’t want to stay in this mansion, suffocated by their expectations. You didn’t want to play along with their idea of a happy family.

Before anyone could respond, you stood up abruptly, pushing your chair back with a loud scrape against the floor.

“Don’t worry about me,” you said, turning on your heel. “I’ll figure it out on my own. I always have.”

You heard Duke’s soft voice in the background, calling after you, but you didn’t stop. You just walked out of the dining room, your heart pounding in your chest as you made your way toward the staircase.

As you climbed the stairs, you could feel their eyes on your back, the weight of their presence pressing down on you, but you didn’t care anymore. You didn’t care if they watched. You didn’t care if they were disappointed. You just wanted to be alone.

That day, you stayed in bed. You ignored every knock on your door, every phone call, every beg and plead to come down and eat. You just wanted to be alone.

You woke up to the quiet hum of the manor, but it was far from peaceful. The silence was suffocating, a constant reminder that there was no escaping them—not now. You tried to pretend the night before hadn’t happened, that their constant attention wasn’t as overwhelming as it was, that you were going back to New York soon. Unfortunately, fantasies don't become realities, especially when reality is chasing them down.

Every one of them was here, waiting. Watching.

Bruce stood near the staircase, his presence larger than life. His eyes lingered on you as if he expected something. You weren’t sure what. Maybe gratitude, maybe obedience. He said nothing, just watched you with that expression of silent insistence.

“Good morning,” he said in that deep, calm voice of his, but there was something off about it. There was a layer of expectation beneath his words, like he was waiting for something from you.

You ignored him, brushing past him without a second glance. You didn’t want to engage, didn’t want to pretend like everything was okay. But it didn’t matter. They were all around you now, slowly closing in.

Tim was the next to corner you. You could feel his calculating eyes on you the moment you stepped into the kitchen. He had a cup of coffee in hand, but his focus was on you. Just you.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, the question seemingly casual but the undertone too sharp, too analytical. It wasn’t just a question, it was a probe, a way for him to gauge how much control he had over you.

You rolled your eyes, reaching for the fridge to grab something that could distract you, something that could make the reality of this house feel a little less like a cage. But the moment your hand touched the door, he was there, standing far too close, watching you, almost breathing down your neck.

“You know,” Tim said, his voice low, “we can talk today. If you want. We need to keep your abilities in check, make sure you’re safe, protected. ” His tone lingered on that last word, like he was reminding you that you were under his watch now.

You hated how calmly he said it. It made your skin crawl.

Steph was next, adding onto what Tim said with her stupid signature smile, "He's right y'know. It's dangerous out there. For you especially."

You ignored them both. Payback for their years of negligence.

Tim just stood there for a moment, his eyes scanning your face. “Fine, be like that,” he muttered, before walking away, but you knew he wasn’t done. He never was.

And then there was Dick. His usual cheerful demeanor didn’t falter as he breezed into the room, but it was too cheerful, too bright. He was pushing something, forcing something, like he was trying to manufacture happiness out of thin air, trying to remind you of who you were, who you used to be.

“Hey! How about we do something today?” he said, his voice far too eager. “We could go out and grab coffee, breakfast, anything. I know you’re probably not feeling it, but you need to get out of this house for a bit.”

You wanted tear him apart for thinking you could just “forget” everything and fall back into some comfortable, happy routine. But you didn’t. Instead, you just nodded stiffly, walking past him without acknowledging his words.

“Come on,” he tried again, following you, “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“Just drop it, Dick,” you said, your voice like ice. “I’m not going anywhere. Ya'll made that pretty clear.”

His face faltered for just a moment before he plastered that damn grin back on. But you saw it, the frustration and determination behind his eyes. He wasn’t going to stop. None of them were.

Jason leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with a smirk you couldn’t quite decipher. “Ah, the princess finally comes out her tower,” he teased. “What? Got tired of throwing shit around in there?"

You narrowed your eyes, feeling the heat in your chest rise. Jason always had a way of pissing you off with his words, making everything seem like a joke, but you knew there was something darker underneath. He wanted to get a rise out of you, he craved it. He wanted you to go back to being his annoying little sister with anger issues.

“Shut up, Jason,” you muttered, turning away from him, not caring that you weren’t hiding your anger anymore. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit today.”

Jason just laughed, but there was a hint of something softer there, something that felt almost... like concern, buried beneath the sarcasm.

“Stop,” you snapped, but before you could escape, Damian stepped in.

Damian was the most direct, the most unforgiving in his attempts to bond. He stepped into your path without hesitation, his posture rigid and eyes narrowed, as if daring you to push him away.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said, his voice low, yet intense. “You think you’re some rebellious teenager trying to escape, but you’re not. You don’t get a choice in this.” His words weren’t harsh, they were final, like he had already decided your fate. And you were staying here, whether you liked it or not.

“You’re wrong,” you spat, your voice venomous. "I don’t need you.”

Damian tilted his head slightly, an unsettling calm settling over him. “You’ll need us eventually. Whether you want to or not. And you'll be grateful we never let you go.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you didn’t let him see it. Not yet. His audacity was insane. To think that you'd be thankful for being trapped in Gotham. Never.

As you tried to walk past him, you collided with Cass, who was standing silently behind you, her eyes filled with that knowing, unspoken concern. She's so creepy. She didn’t say a word but you could feel her presence, like a weight pressing down on you.

Cass placed a hand gently on your arm, her touch barely more than a whisper, but it was enough to make you freeze.

Why are they acting like this? What changed these two weeks?

"You’re safe here," she said quietly, her words cutting through the tension in a way that made your skin crawl. It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a command.

You pulled away sharply, nearly punching her, your fists clenched at your sides. “I'm not happy.” you said, more to yourself than to her.

But she didn’t respond. Of course she didn’t. Her eyes just followed you, and that was worse than any words.

Barbara was close by, but she didn’t need to be loud. She never did. She had this way of talking in soft tones that made everything sound so reasonable. So loving.

“You don’t have to keep shutting us out,” she said gently. “You can talk to us. We just want to make sure you’re okay. All of us. We care about you.”

You felt the weight of her words crash down on you, suffocating you with their sweetness, with their hidden demands. Care. It was just another word for control, for keeping you locked in their world, locked in their gaze. If they cared, they would let you be happy in New York.

“Just stop,” you whispered, more to yourself than to her. “Just... stop.”

You sat in your room for hours again, ignoring everyone.

Bruce had spent the last few days carefully watching you, keeping his distance just enough to make you think you had some semblance of freedom, but now he was ready to step in, to claim his role as your father.

He had promised himself when you left for France, he would make it right. That he would make up for everything he had missed, for every moment he had abandoned you for the greater good of Gotham. But now, as the silence stretched between you two, he was determined to close that distance.

You had just returned to your room after another breakfast you didn’t want to be part of when you heard the knock.

It was Bruce.

“You’re not busy, are you?” he asked, his voice almost too warm, too hopeful.

You shot him a glance, wondering if he truly thought this would work. After everything that had happened, after all the times he had failed you, he still thought a few “father-daughter” moments could make things better.

"I guess not," you replied flatly, stepping aside to let him in, your mind already racing with how to get through whatever this was going to be.

The moment he entered, Bruce seemed to settle, as though he had a plan in mind, one he was eager to execute.

“Good,” he said, looking around the room, his eyes scanning for something, maybe an opportunity. Then, he turned back to you, hands clasped behind his back. “I thought today, we could spend some time together. Just us. It’s been a while since we’ve done something like this, hasn’t it? School starts soon and you'll get busy, you won't have time for me anymore.”

He was trying to joke around.

School. More like prison. The more he mentioned school, the angrier you got. You'd never done something like this. He did it with all his other kids though, with Tiffany. As you thought of her, all ideas of being nice to Bruce, of trying to bond with your father, flew out the window.

The words felt like a slap, and you couldn’t keep the bite from your tone. “Is that what you think this is? Quality time? You really think we’re just gonna pick up where we left off? Think you can change the past with brunch?”

Bruce’s eyes softened for a moment, his expression cracking, but only slightly. The guilt was there, unmistakable, but it didn’t erase the unspoken expectation behind his words. His voice became more gentle, more insistent.

“I know it’s not easy,” he said, his voice steady but laced with something else—something almost pleading, though he would never admit it. “But I want to make this right. You deserve this. You deserve... me. We can go out, maybe catch a movie, grab lunch, talk, whatever you want. I just want to be with you. Like you always talked about.”

You didn’t respond immediately. For a moment, you just stood there, frozen, as the weight of his words crashed over you. It was nice watching him beg for once. You had always wanted this. Wanted him. Wanted him to be a father, to care for you like he did the others. But that was before you tasted freedom, before you tried love.

Now, the idea of spending time with him felt like a betrayal to everything you had tried to protect: your own independence, your own space, your freedom. You didn’t want to be a part of his perfect little family anymore.

“No.” you muttered, unable to stop the anger from flooding your chest. “You really think that’s going to fix things? You think I just forgot what you did? Because i'm nice sometimes?”

Bruce didn’t flinch at your words, didn’t even show any sign of anger. Instead, he just stepped closer, his presence filling up the room, looming over you like an impenetrable wall. His tone remained patient, almost too controlled, like he was walking on eggshells.

“I know I can’t undo the past,” he said quietly, a trace of regret slipping through. “But I can be here for you now. I won’t make the same mistakes. I promise.”

A cold laugh escaped your lips. “You already have.”

You could feel your pulse quicken, the anger bubbling up inside you, but you pushed it back. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you break.

Bruce’s eyes softened even further, the guilt twisting in his expression, and for a moment, you saw something else there—desperation. As if he was begging you to let him in, to give him just one chance to prove he wasn’t the same person who had abandoned you for years.

“We could just sit and talk,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “No expectations. No agenda. Just us. I’m not trying to fix you or make everything perfect. I just want to spend time with my daughter.”

Something in you snapped at the mention of daughter. The word that had haunted you for years. The word that had felt like a lie every time he used it. You clenched your fists, struggling to keep your composure.

“No,” you said, your voice flat, cutting through the tension like a knife. “You don’t get it. I don’t want this anymore. I don't want you anymore.”

Bruce’s face faltered, just for a moment, before he recovered. But the hurt was there, tucked in the corners of his eyes. “I'm sorry. I hope you know that.”

You shook your head, not wanting to hear it anymore. The damage was done. He couldn’t erase it. No amount of “father-daughter time” was going to make you forget what it had been like when he wasn’t there for you.

“Stop,” you snapped, taking a step back. “Just stop. You don’t get to do this, Bruce. You don’t get to waltz in here and act like everything is fine. Like everything’s fixed. You’ve ruined it. All of it.”

Bruce opened his mouth, but no words came. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle to understand where it had gone wrong.

“I’m just trying to make up for it,” he said quietly, but the sound of it made your stomach churn. The way his voice cracked slightly at the end of the sentence only made it worse.

And you hated yourself for feeling even a little guilty for saying no.

But no. You wouldn’t let him do this. Not again.

“I don’t want your apologies,” you spat, your tone sharp, venomous. “And I don’t want your ‘time.’ You don’t get to play the father now.”

Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and walked toward the door. You needed to escape. You needed space. You needed to breathe. You were leaving your own room to get away from him.

Bruce’s voice stopped you, and you felt the pull of his desperate plea in the back of your mind. His words clung to you, too heavy, too much. “I'll go, don't leave. This is your room. I just want you to know I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You watched your father walk away, and only after he left did you fall to your bed and cry.

The next days before school were a blur. You spent them locked in your room, alternating between crying on the phone with Ariel, avoiding the family when you went down to sneak food to your room, trying to butter up Bruce and convince him to let you go back to boarding school, and online shopping.

Yet somehow Monday morning you were up at 5:30 getting into the shower.

The thought of returning to Gotham Prep made your stomach churn. How could you go back to a place where you had no true friends? A school where you’d been bullied by half your grade. Where Tim pretended you didn’t exist, Damian and Tiffany ridiculed you in front of everyone, and Duke ignored you like you were invisible. Where you ate lunch in the bathroom, alone and cried in the janitor's closet like a loser.

But you weren't the same girl who walked through those halls last year. No, this year was going to be different. You were different.

Last night, as you scrolled through Tik Tok, a new idea formed in your mind. You’d had enough of being invisible. It was time for a change.

You had a plan.

You found the bleach blonde hair dye in your bathroom, hidden away in the back of a drawer. You didn’t need permission, and you certainly didn’t need anyone to hold your hand.

By the time the dye had set and you’d rinsed it out, you felt like a new person. It was the kind of hair that would make people stop and stare.

You woke at 5:30 and hopped in the shower, you wanted to take your time getting ready. You plugged in your pink dyson and curled your new blonde hair, it would fall into a blow out later in the day, complaining about your family to Ariel and Claire. You spent the next two hours getting ready, perfecting your makeup. You’d learned to contour, learned to do your eyeliner just right, and became a bronzer girl over the summer. You grabbed your favorite Chanel palette and messily applied dark eyeshadow in smoky charcoal, blending seamlessly into the crease of your eyes and eyeliner. You smudged on a bold dark burgundy lipshine that drew attention. You weren’t trying to be anyone but yourself, your new self.

Then came the clothes.

You'd already shortened your Gotham Prep skirt by more than a few inches. It was below your knees and now it showed off the thighs you spent all summer tanning. You wanted to make a statement, and if they didn’t like it, that was their problem. The white blouse, originally oversized, was now form-fitting, you wanted it to give that one Bella Hadid picture. You left the top buttons undone, the tie hanging loosely around your neck in a deliberate, I-don’t-care gesture. You could feel the fabric clinging to your skin, reminding you of how much control you were regaining. You looked like the kind of girls you used to call whores last year.

You looked through your drawers for your signature jewelry you collected over the summer and during school. Big gold hoops on your ears, studs in all your other ear piercings, a tiffany heart necklace that rested on your exposed collar bone, and multiple bracelets stacked on each arm, jingling as you moved.

As you stood in front of the mirror, you smiled. You looked good.

Lastly you grabbed your Isabel Marant sneakers, chic and effortless, and slipped them on. They were expensive, but it wasn’t about the price—it was about the look. The vibe. Then, more than few spritzes of perfume. Something sharp, and not too sweet. You wanted to make a lasting impression, to turn heads as you walked.

By the time you were done, you felt invincible. The girl staring back at you was someone who didn’t care what anyone thought. You weren’t going to be bullied anymore. You were going to be the one who dictated the terms.

You walked out of your room, head held high, your heart pounding with anticipation.

Downstairs, the Batfamily was gathered at the breakfast table, doing their usual routine. They all stopped talking the second they saw you.

You’d barely stepped into the room when the heavy silence fell over the table. Bruce looked up, his expression instantly darkening. His lips pressed together in a thin line, his gaze flicking over your appearance.

“Is this what you're wearing?” His voice was tight, a hint of disapproval slipping into the words.

You gave him a look that said everything. “Is something wrong? I thought it was cute.” Your tone was soft, teasing, but with a bite underneath. You weren’t asking for his permission. You were daring him to say something.

Tim, who had been looking at his phone, blinked up at you with wide eyes. He’d been so engrossed in whatever he was reading that he didn’t even seem to know how to respond. His fingers hovered over his screen, unsure whether or not to comment.

“Are you seriously going to school looking like that?” His voice was tight, an edge of surprise and confusion beneath it.

You crossed your arms, leaning back in the doorway. “What? You don’t like it? Your friends might.” You knew how to unsettle him. That much you were sure of. You wanted to push his buttons, make him paranoid.

Dick was the next to react. He put down his coffee, glancing over at Bruce before looking back at you. “I get that you’re, you know, trying something new,” he began carefully, but the unease in his voice was clear. He was trying to be supportive, trying to understand, but it didn’t take much to see how disapproving he felt. “But—”

“But what, Dick?” you interrupted with a sudden change of attitude. “You don’t like it? That’s a shame. It's so crazy I literally never asked.”

His mouth opened, but no words came out. He simply shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.

Jason snorted, clearly not impressed. “You trying to turn heads or get yourself in trouble? Skirt's too short, change that shit.” His voice was low, but it had a sharpness to it now. His gaze scanned you from head to toe, his mouth curving into an almost imperceptible frown.

You weren’t fazed by his dismissive and angry attitude. If anything, it made you want to lean into it more. “I'm not changing, you want alonger skirt? You go put one on and come talk.” You shrugged nonchalantly, your tone saccharine sweet. "And I don't want trouble, but i don't mind it."

“Yeah, I can tell,” Jason drawled, eyeing the large hoops dangling from your ears. “Nice hoops. Real classy.” His lips twitched, mocking the exaggerated size of them. "I didn’t realize big was your thing now."

You smirked, reaching up to tug at one of the hoops, the gesture playful, but intending to piss him off. “Big boys like big things, Jason,” you replied smoothly, without missing a beat. “And you know what they say, the bigger the hoop, the bigger the....” You were quickly cut off before you could finish talking and ruining everyone's apittite.

Damian, ever the hater, set down his cereal with a dramatic flare, slamming it down and glared at you. “You look like you belong in a cheap nightclub, not Gotham Prep. Should we drop you off on the nearest corner?” His words were sharp, cutting—typical Damian, though you could hear the pure anger in his voice.

You chuckled softly, not phased in the slightest. You'd rather be at a cheap nightclub honestly. “I’m just bringing a little fun to Gotham, Damian. You should try it sometime, maybe then you wouldn't be so hateful all the time." Your tone was uninterested, like his insults weren't even worth your time.

Steph and Cass exchanged a look, both clearly unsure of how to react. Cass, as always, seemed more interested in watching you than engaging, while Steph’s gaze flickered between you and the rest of the family. Barbra was just staring at you in disbelief.

“Is it really that bad?” Steph finally asked, though her voice wasn’t quite as gentle as it could have been. There was a nervous edge to it. “I mean, you’re, uh, pulling it off…” She trailed off, clearly unsure how to proceed.

You ignored her, who cares what she thinks? Her and the rest of them are irrelevant. If you like it then so what. Her comment did make your lips twitch into a smile subconsciously though.

Alfred, who’d been quietly observing the exchange, cleared his throat before standing. “Miss, I must say, it’s a rather bold change. But perhaps not one that will be received well by the staff and teachers.” His words were polite, but you could hear the disapproval in the undertones.

You gave him a bright smile, not at all sorry. “I’ll take my chances, Alfred. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I've played this game before.”

Bruce, who had been seething quietly, finally stood up from the table. His usual calm demeanor was replaced with a tense frustration. “Go change. Now.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile. “Make me.”

There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, then something else, something more. He clenched his fists for a moment, clearly fighting to maintain control. But you weren’t backing down. Not this time.

“I’m not going to let you walk out of here like that,” Bruce snapped.

You didn’t miss a beat. “You won't let me do anything. I go to school like this or I don't go at all. And since when do you care?” You crossed your arms and stuck your foot out, pouting like a child, staring him down waiting for him to surrender.

Bruce hesitated for a moment, his expression softening ever slightly. “Fine. But you’re pushing it. You're not going like this tomorrow.”

Bruce 0, You 1.

Jason, who had been watching the exchange with interest, chuckled. “You really know how to work him, don’t you?”

You flashed a smile at him, leaning back in your chair as you stood up and grabbed your bag, ready to leave the room. “Come on, let’s get out of here. We're already late. Jason, you driving?” Jason was the most fun, and he wasn't as nosy as Dick or Barbra.

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m driving us all today. Come on, let’s go before Dad starts pulling rank.”

With a dramatic sigh, Bruce reluctantly agreed, shooting a last, disapproving look at your outfit before turning toward the door.

The engine of Jason’s car hummed steadily, but the air inside was anything but calm. You had decided to make this ride your moment. If you were uncomfy, you'd make them all feel the same. The others in the car—Damian, Tim, and Duke—were bracing themselves for your usual attitude, though this time you could tell there was a noticeable edge to the tension.

Jason, who was driving, was trying his best to keep his eyes on the road, but you knew he was glaring at you through the rearview mirror. Damian was next to you in the backseat, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, like he was ready to throw down at any second. Tim sat on the other side, buried in his homework, something to do with Gotham Prep’s ever-pressing academic requirements. Nerd.

And Duke? Duke was the least bothered, but you were sure he was mentally rolling his eyes at you the moment you stepped into the car.

You were far too busy with your phone, flipping through TikTok videos and checking your DMs, but every so often, you’d glance at the boys just to see their reactions.

“So…” You leaned forward a little, propping your elbow on the middle console. Your voice was light, casual, but you could feel the energy shift around you. You knew this would get under Jason’s skin. “You think any of the boys at Gotham Prep will notice my glow up? ”

You heard a long, heavy sigh from the driver’s seat before Jason muttered, “She's in that phase huh,"

But you weren’t listening. You were too busy smirking at Tim, who barely looked up from his book. You could feel his eyes narrow, probably out of sheer annoyance. “I mean, it’s inevitable, right?” you continued. “I'm 16 now, I'm better looking. Is there any fresh meat since I left? Anyone interesting, new friends maybe??"

Jason was silent for a moment, but you could see the grip on the steering wheel tightening in his peripheral. He wasn’t going to let you get away with this.

"Listen," Jason said, his voice calm but with that sharp edge he always used when he was trying not to lose his temper. "I don’t want to hear about boys, okay? Not today, not ever."

You blinked dramatically, as if you were the one being attacked. “Oh, come on, Jason, don’t be such a buzzkill. I’m not doing anything. I just wanna know if anyone’s looking.” You reached forward and pressed the button to connect your phone to the car’s Bluetooth, your nails clicking loudly across the screen as you searched for the perfect song to add to the atmosphere.

You knew you were getting to him. Jason was always so serious when it came to boys, always so guarded, especially when it came to you. It was fun getting under his skin. He glanced over his shoulder at you, but you were already half-distracted by your phone.

“Relax, Jase,” you shot back, ignoring his glare. “I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m just curious. It’s just—boys.”

You needed something to stop the ache that came with your new powers.

“Don’t make me pull this car over,” Jason threatened, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror again.

You laughed softly, loving how easily you could provoke him. You leaned back in your seat, stretching out your legs, and noticed Damian watching you like he was deciding whether to strangle you with his own scarf.

“Damian, you’re so serious,” you sigh, you'd been ignoring him lately but you forgot how easy he is to provoke. “You know, you should loosen up. Boys are fun to look at, and to—” You cut yourself off before you could finish the sentence, letting the tension simmer.

Damian’s face twisted in that way he did when he was trying to pretend you didn’t bother him. “I don’t care what you do with boys,” he muttered. “But if you think I’m going to sit in this car while you talk about them like you’re some kind of—”

“Oh, no,” you interrupted with a teasing smile, “Not some kind of what? Some kind of what?” You stretched your legs a little further, drawing more attention to the hem of your skirt as you adjusted yourself in your seat. Making it even shorter now that Bruce wasn't here. You felt the eyes of your brothers boring into you, especially Jason's. “Honestly, Damian, lighten up. If you stopped being such a little grumpy loser all the time, you’d get more attention from girls. You have my looks y'know. ”

Tim, who had been pretending to focus on his homework this whole time, finally looked up from his papers with an exasperated sigh. “Can you not?” he asked, voice strained. “We’ve got school in twenty minutes. We don’t need a whole lecture about boys in the car.”

“Hey, no need to be so dramatic, Tim,” you said, turning your attention to your phone. You found your favorite song, the one that was guaranteed to annoy everyone in the car. “I’m just having fun. It’s not like I’m gonna do anything crazy. I just wanna know who’s gonna be there today."

You were making them all uncomfortable, and you loved it. You could already see Damian’s jaw tightening in the rearview mirror and Jason’s knuckles whitening around the steering wheel. Tim was staring at you like you were a whole new level of annoying. Even Duke rolled his eyes.

But that wasn’t enough. You needed them to be seething.

“I’m telling you right now,” Jason warned, his voice dead serious, “no boys today. No messing around. You’re going to class, and you’re staying focused. I'll check your phone if I have to. Got it?”

You put on your best innocent face, looking up from your phone as if you hadn’t just been causing a small riot in the car. “Okay, okay, Jason. No boys. I'm more into men anyway.”

Damian scoffed again, muttering something about how “pathetic” it was. You just grinned and rolled your eyes.

“Hey, you’re just jealous because girls don’t look at you,” you said, winking at him. “Maybe if you weren’t such a pain in the ass, you’d get noticed more.”

Duke, who had been quietly observing the entire conversation, finally spoke up from the backseat, his tone easygoing but with a hint of amusement. “You got any tips for me? Am I chopped liver”

You rolled your eyes at him, still not over his betrayal. “Glad you’re entertained, Duke. I don't think even I could help you.”

As you said that, you grabbed the aux cord and plugged it into your phone without asking.

Jason let out a sharp sigh, but you just grinned. “I’ve got it from here,” you said as you clicked on Drake’s Hotline Bling. The song blasted as you maxed out the volume. Damian looked like he was about to combust.

“You really are a pain in the ass, aren’t you?” Tim muttered under his breath, trying to focus on his schoolwork again.

You grinned. “I like to think of myself as entertaining.”

Duke nodded his head to the beat, tapping on his phone and Jason’s eyes darted to the rearview mirror, but you could see the playfulness in his face. He was trying not to smile, despite himself.

“I’m just saying, no boys today, no skipping, no trouble” Jason reiterated, trying to keep a semblance of control. “And if I hear anything about you messing around, we’re going back home, got it?”

You leaned back in your seat and stretched again. “Sure, sure, no boys. But just so you know, if i get into "trouble" it’s not my fault.”

Jason didn’t respond.

When you finally arrived at Gotham Prep you sighed, grabbed your bag, straightened out your skirt one last time, and nearly ran away from them so you didn't have to walk in with Duke, Damian, and Tim. “See you later, losers,” you said with a grin, pulling your sunglasses on as you walked away from the car.

Gotham Prep didn't know what's coming.

Taglist:

@strwberryglass @lilithquillete @delias-stuff @bellatrixmld @damainwayneisthebestrobin @kittzu @lilyalone @yokesmam @sanjisluvbot @facelessisnthere @dollwhite @superstarbucks

@angelunatic @littledollete @cutelittlesugarfairy @darbystrange @sxftiebee @zealous0mouse @trashlanternfish360 @galaxygirlsblog @euphoria-looney @1simpchunkygirl @a-lurking-fae @analuixxy @naturallyspontaneous @horror-lover-69 @pastel-mouse @ladyrosemone @frankie-moon3 @catley1011 @justannie18 @yandereaficionado @ithoughtthinks @asdfghjklgayblog @shadowyknightbeargoth @peche4et3chocolat @boredselkie @rogueofbullshit @iamabeaner @rosesunderthegarde

[gangstalkerbarbie]

This being tumblr, for my own wellbeing I have to explicitly put forth that we disagree about the draft (I think a country that needs to draft should impose national service on all young adults without discrimination, I would have gone to war by now if my family had let me and I don't think that was my family's business).

Having said that: we probably agree that the thing is also that actually... they don't? Young women Don't intrinsically smell like that. No kind of human juvenile does. I was a teenage girl once and I raised my brothers and some of my cousins, I would know.

There is an oaty, warm, milky baby smell everyone has, especially concentrated around their hair whorl, but they grow out of it at puberty. If you've ever lived with an intact male or female animal and watched them go through puberty, you'll notice they lose the baby smell then too.

So at least we can rule out that he's a threat to literal children.

But like teenagers? Teenagers stink. There's not a special creamy buttery teenage smell for any sex of teenager, it's just that girls are pushed more to cover their hormonal teenager stink.

What do they cover it with? Perfume. Immoderate amounts of the stuff.

Due to the vagaries of culture (and how disgustingly normative just like outright pedophilia used to be in many places), a majority of little girl perfumes (so the ones you're supposed to grow out of around, say, 28) smell like buttery vanilla and suchlike. Edible sugary dainty fluffy smells, Shirley Temple kind of smells, aren't you just a sweet little thing, Daddy wants to eat you up.

These are the smells he's conditioned himself to find sexually irresistible. Again, adult women are often pressured not to wear them...

Not that he'll ever see this on a recycled post about him on a site he isn't remotely on, but I'm saying this for the benefit of the teens likely to find me from the Homestuck tag: they should prevent this guy from hanging out near high schools. He's both rapey and stupid, a combination routinely propagandised to girls as something you can and should want to have in your life, which you actually very much do not want remotely breathing near you.

Anybody talking about the smell of a woman in these sorts of terms is a fucking nutjob too. Everyone who is attracted to whatever sex enjoys that sex's pheromone stink, which is under no circumstances ever any kind of irresistible "fuck me" signal. Nobody consents to sex by existing. You always have control over your actions. "Not being able to resist" violating someone's bodily autonomy is always a choice and I unironically think that in a perfect world everybody who makes this choice should be chemically castrated.

This is why I don’t give a fuck when people say it’s mean for me to want all those with a Y chromosome to do forced military service and die in war. Because now they’re wasting all our resources to go on the internet and say pedophilic shit like this.

[babyangelsky]

I love that Phu was wearing his teddy bear pajamas when he got blown by Cir

And I love it specifically because it flies in the face of a rather unfortunate trend that's always been present but that has been on my mind a lot lately.

A couple of months ago, I came across a post that referred to Teerak from Your Sky as "basically a child" and went in on the show for portraying him in any sort of sexual light and then went in on Muenfah and criticized him for wanting to do anything remotely sexual with Teerak and just—

No. NO. NO!

Listen, I don't give a fuck how someone interprets a character even if I disagree on every possible level. Art is subjective. How someone sees the art they consume and what they get out of it is none of my fucking business.

But there's this awful tendency to conflate cuteness with immaturity and to infantilize any character that exhibits any traits or preferences that can be read as cute. Hell, sometimes even a character's appearance is all it takes for them to be infantilized.

And it's always the same shit. If a character is shy, soft-spoken, bubbly, cheerful, or sweet, they're seen as a child. If they have plushies and enjoy lots of color, they're seen as a child. Act cute? Child. Like cute things? Child. Shorter than their love interest? Child. Younger than their love interest? Child.

Fucking STOP.

The person who made the post I referred to used a screenshot of Teerak hugging his Snoopy plush to somehow justify their interpretation and you know what? LIKING PLUSHIES AND CUTE THINGS DOES NOT MAKE SOMEONE """"BASICALLY A CHILD"""".

Whether or not a character (or a real actual person) likes cute things or happens to be sweet and soft-spoken and shy has nothing to do with how mature they are and it certainly says nothing about their sexuality and sexual desires. I turn 31 years old in just over a week and there are plushies on my bed. I put hearts all over my blog. Liking cute things just means you like cute things! That's all!

Teerak is adorable and colorful and sweet, and he's also a young man who's deliriously in love and HORNY for his boyfriend. He ALWAYS wanted to fuck that man and if he hesitated at first, it was due only to his lack of experience. Nothing else.

Which is partly why this scene:

Was so fucking great to watch. Not just because Teerak wanted to fuck his boyfriend and made his intent crystal clear and took the initiative, but because he was allowed to by the story. @iguessitsjustme wrote a great post about it, go give it a read.

More and more we're seeing BL's where both characters (THE CUTE ONES INCLUDED) are allowed and shown to want each other sexually and it's been amazing to see. Mutual horniness will never not be amazing to see.

Allll of that is why I love that Phukan was in his teddy bear pajamas in his love scene with Cir. Because like Teerak, Phukan is exactly the type of character that gets infantilized and that people get all pearl-clutchy about when he's portrayed doing anything sexual.

Phu is adorable and colorful and he likes being babied and he collects those cute little trinket things I can't remember the name of and he ALSO REALLY WANTS TO FUCK CIRRUS. To quote @poetry-protest-pornography , he was an active and enthusiastic participant in his first blowjob and that's exactly as it should be regardless of what he's wearing or what he likes! He's a full person with a functioning libido and I'm so happy and grateful that the story isn't infantilizing him.

TL;DR, some of ya'll have got to let go of the notion that a character being/acting cute and them experiencing sexual desire are mutually exclusive.

[wroetominter]

Three Peaks - George Clarke

Warnings: none, some swearing

Thank you for the request! I have some serious writers block right now so bear with as the time between posts may be a little longer. I appreciate you!

———

"I don't know how I got roped into this one" I adjusted the microphone I was securing to Chris' t-shirt. He chuckled, patting my shoulder as I finished.

"Well, there aren't many of you fit enough to actually climb three mountains so it was quite the easy choice." Chris said. I sighed, shaking my head. Mentally slapping myself for telling Chris casually that I enjoyed a good hike.

Chris had the thought for a video that honestly, I couldn't even make fun of. It was a really well thought out idea. A group of his friends and crew tackling the three peaks challenge. Which is essentially just climbing three mountains in 24 hours. Seems damn near impossible, especially considering the group he had.

I had been part of Chris' camera crew for almost a year now, and I felt like I had really found a good group of friends in this job. Outside of filming I had been hanging out with Chris and his core group frequently. Many nights spent out at different pubs, or simply hanging out at their flat.

"Let's get going shall we?" Chris began to lead the group. I stuck towards the middle, filming the boys who had taken the lead.

Reev, Chris, and George led the pack as we began the ascent to the top of our first mountain.

"I can already tell this is going to be fucking awful." I heard from behind me. I turned my head to see Arthur Hill beginning the days complaints.

"George you owe me a tenner!" Television shouted from beside him.

"What?" I asked in confusion.

"I placed a bet that Hill would be the first to complain." Television explained. I threw my head back laughing, panning the camera to catch Hills reaction. He deadpanned and just stared at the camera.

"Don't worry Arthur, I'm not looking forward to this either."

Each boy had been given their own special challenge for the video, and I was really enjoying watching Reev attempt to put rocks in the boys shoes.

"What's your challenge?" I asked Chris as I caught up to him.

"I need to get someone to believe a fake fact about each mountain." He whispered to the camera.

"That feels alarmingly easy considering the group we're with." I said. He agreed and told me he was already scheming up his first lie to tell Arthur.

We had been climbing for close to two hours by this point, and we were nearing the peak.

"Enjoying yourself love?" George asked me as he took a seat on the rock next to me.

"It's not nearly as bad as I expected it to be, I'll be honest." I snacked on the apple slices I packed, offering one out to George.

We sat in a comfortable silence, watching the others as they bantered back and forth with each other.

I sat and admired George as he laughed, not being able to help myself from laughing along. He had an infectious laugh. Chris caught me staring at George and raised an eyebrow at me. He was the only one of the group who knew I had somewhat of a crush on George. I had unfortunately admitted it to him accidentally after one drink too many during a pub crawl.

We had all gotten up again to keep our pace going up the mountain. The terrain upwards wasn't too bad. The most annoying part by far was having to continue to film while simultaneously making sure I didn't fall down.

"I never thought this would end!" Arthur Hill screamed as we reached the peak.

"I'm sure you're used to hearing that in bed." Harry joked with him patting him on the back.

We all shared a laugh and took in the nice view. It wasn't long before we realized that 'huh, guess we just go down now' and begin to descend the mountain.

I trailed behind Chris and ArthurTV, catching some of their conversation as Chris tried to convince Arthur that some celebrity had been the first person to complete this challenge. I had to actively hold in a giggle as I knew Chris was having him on with his challenge.

During my distracted state, I felt myself slide to the side as my foot hit a loose rock that sent me falling down. Instinctively deciding to protect my camera, I took the full brunt of the fall to my hip and legs.

"Shit, are you alright?" George asked jogging to catch up to me.

Catching my breath after scaring myself with the fall, I nodded towards him. I turned my camera off and stuck it in its carrying bag beside me, examining my ankle.

It was fairly scraped up, and was slightly throbbing. Nothing that felt it would be too crazy but painful nonetheless.

A few of the others called out to see if I was okay. I gave them a thumbs up.

"I'll stay with her and help her down, you guys can go ahead we'll just be a few minutes." George called back to them.

"Does it hurt?" He asked me, grazing his fingertips over my ankle to assess.

"Not a ton, I think I was more shocked by the fall than anything. I'll be fine George, thank you for staying behind with me." I smiled at him, noting his features contorted with uncertainty at my words.

He stood up, holding his hands out for me to help me up. I happily grabbed them and put pressure on my ankle, feeling a tinge of pain but it was bearable.

I stood upright, George still holding onto my hands to make sure I was steady. He never took his eyes off of mine, scanning my face for any sign of pain.

"I'm good George, I promise." He smiled at me, squeezing my hands.

"I think it's time to reveal my challenge to you." His words took me by surprise as I had no idea where this topic had come from.

He let go of my hands, fishing around in his pocket and pulling out a cue card similar to the other boys. He unfolded it and turned it towards me.

In small, easily recognizable handwriting I read off 'tell Y/n you have feelings for her you dumb twat'. Chris. Of course Chris would write that.

I looked back up to him, his face flushed from either embarrassment or anxiety, I couldn't tell.

"I assume what's written there is true?" I asked George, looking to him for confirmation. He nodded, sliding the paper back into his pocket.

We both stood there a little awkwardly for a moment, neither of us being particularly good at the whole admitting feelings thing.

"Your feelings are mutual." I said, cutting the silence. His eyes widened at me, a smile breaking on his features.

He put an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer for a hug.

"How about we talk more about this over dinner once we’re done with the next two mountains?” He propositioned.

I groaned, “I forgot we still have two fucking mountains to go.” He laughed as I pouted.

He slid his hand up to my cheek, bringing his face closer to mine and connecting our lips in a short, sweet kiss.

“This should give you something to look forward to” he said as he pulled away. It was my turn for my cheeks to turn pink. Despite how tired and sweaty we already were, he still looked absolutely perfect.

“I suppose I can make it through as long as you promise not to let me fall again.” He laughed.

“I’ll do my best.”

We walked downwards, eventually catching up with the others who had stopped for a water break.

“Finally you two made it! Began to think you two were shacking up up there!” ArthurTV exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes at him, laughing.

“Not quite shacking up, but my challenge is complete.” George bragged, Chris’ head shot towards us at these words.

“No way.” He said, looking to me for confirmation.

“Yes way” I replied, George put his arm over my shoulder once again and we watched as the mental cogs turned in the other boys heads.

“Oh my god he finally got the balls to tell her!” Arthur Hill screamed, jumping around like a fangirl.

I looked to George who just shook his head in embarrassment. “Did everyone know except me?” I asked only loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

I knew then that the next two mountains would likely be sex jokes and embarrassing stories, and I was weirdly looking forward to it.

[xxchumanixx]

May I please request a fic where the reader (who's a famous singer) falls in love with Tim but is reluctant to fully trust and be vulnerable with him due to bad experiences she's had with men in the past? The reader could eventually write and sing a song about her love for Tim which blows up and even wins awards like Grammys too which makes their relationship stronger and she opens up her heart more? 🥺

Be myself

Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, a bit of angst, mentions of physical abuse / hitting (please look for help if you're in an abusive relationship! Being abused is not normal and it shouldn't be simply endured and viewed as it) Word count: 2.421 Authors note: I don't know if I used the gif before (probably did), but it just fits perfectly. I know you linked Whats love got to do with it by our legend Tina, but I kinda didn't vibe with it. I hope you'll still like it, though (if it was even meant for reference to the song the reader writes). I'm in no way a songwriter, so I'm not at all sure about that small part i wrote there. I know I posted a sneak peak for something different, but this gave me so much motivation to write so i put it first. Enjoy!

He didn't know how he ended up with you of all people.

Not that he'd complain.

Never.

But a famous singer like you and a cop like him? It had to be fate that brought you together when him and his rookie had been called to deescalate a situation at a concert of yours.

He didn't expect to fall for you - hell, you probably didn't either. It just kinda happened after you gave him your number before him and his rookie left.

It had been meant more like a joke - yet he hadn't been able to get you out of his head and neither did you. So he texted you.

Three weeks later you went on your first date.

You had been cautious, bad experiences with previous boyfriends and dates branding you more than you'd have liked to admit.

And so you didn't.

The date went great, leading to another one shortly after.

Tim swore you were playing some magic trick on him. The speed in which he fell for you was shocking. In a few weeks you had him wrapped around your finger.

It didn't take long for him to admit his feelings to you, saying he'd understand if you weren't ready for anything yet, and as he rambled on, you'd cut him off with a kiss.

Because you were indeed ready.

At least that's what you thought.

Not that you didn't have feelings for him - you had, and they were strong. You just had trouble letting yourself be too open, too vulnerable.

To trust easily.

Though, right from the start, you knew he was different. He was interested in your career, yes, but in a way that didn't profit him or made him want to brag about his girlfriend being famous.

Or try and hit you if you didn't spend all your money on him. It had happened once, leaving a mark on your soul you had trouble getting rid of. Getting rid of the douchebag wasn't exactly easy, either.

But that was another thing.

No, Tim supported you, took days off to watch your concerts and be there for you. And maybe to have the time of his life with you in your wardrobe backstage.

For a while now, you had been working on a project - a new song that one day came to your mind when you thought about the past few months and your relationship with Tim.

It had almost been a year now, and you started to question whether your cautiousness was misplaced.

Not that you didn't trust him.

You trusted him more than you did any other man you'd been with, it just was like a habit of sorts. Some sort of protection your mind had put up in the beginning.

It wasn't easy to let that guard down.

It was one of the main parts you included in that song. How he made you want to be more open, to trust and give up that control you so desperately held onto.

To love without the constant fear of it all going downhill.

Your producer, Savannah, supported you all the way. You wrote your song, recorded it over and over again until you were a hundred percent convinced that it did Tim justice in a way.

Or rather his love for you. The way he never treated you differently even though you were famous.

Sure, there were times when his face would be plastered along magazine articles alongside yours - especially the beginning hadn't been easy.

Hiding a relationship wasn't easy and it certainly didn't work in this case, either. The first time it happened it had been on Instagram.

Someone had seen you and him together, taking a video and posting it for everyone to see. Once it reached a certain amount of views, it spread like wildfire, and everyone knew.

Tim wasn't very happy about it.

He understood that it was part of your life, but he didn't like it - and that included him - plastered all over the internet.

When you were shopping and hoarded by paparazzi or too many fans and he'd notice you were overwhelmed, he'd play the 'I'm a cop, please stand back' card, effectively getting you out of the situation.

Another thing you loved him for.

He didn't thrive on the constant attention, didn't suck it up like a sponge and used it to his advantage. Not like other men had tried to do before.

So why was it so hard to let go? Why was it so hard to trust, to let yourself be too vulnerable?

When you published the song, Tim had yet to hear it.

Yes, maybe you should have let him listen to it before publishing it, but you were too nervous. Too nervous he'd laugh at you, tell you that you were crazy for writing and publishing that song.

It would have also meant he'd question the origin - why you had such trust issues, had these problems of opening up.

You didn't want to be judged. After all, you still hadn't told him about it.

Only a few days later, you and Tim were driving in his truck home, when suddenly, the radio moderator announced your new song. Tim's gaze snapped to you - normally you'd show him your upcoming projects, talk to him about them.

He didn't know you'd just published a new song.

Your cheeks heated up as he stared at you in confusion before his gaze fixed back on the street. You knew he was listening, picking up on the lyrics.

Another thing you loved about him.

He didn't just hear the songs, he listened to them. Analyzing them, understanding them.

So it was no surprise he did understand this song, too. About a minute into the song he parked in his driveway, killing the engine but leaving the radio on.

You nibbled on your lip nervously, heart beating wildly as you tried to make out his reaction. You couldn't read his thoughts, so you had to rely on his body language.

And when he understood the song was about him, his gaze snapped to yours right as the second chorus hit.

You let me be myself, and I thank you for that.

You ban all the bad thoughts from my head.

No matter how hard I try, I can't find anything bad about you.

And I hope you see me like that, too.

You support me, give me strength,

It is wrong to hold you at arms length.

I love you and I hope you see,

that your're the best thing that's ever happened to me.

You swallowed, not interrupting him as he listened to the rest of the song. This certainly hadn't been how you'd planned this.

Sure, you wanted him to know about the song and all the things it expressed sooner or later, but when you published it, the thought of him hearing it that soon hadn't exactly crossed your mind.

When the song ended and the next came up, he immediately turned the radio off.

He stared at you, shocked, surprised.

In awe.

You bit your lip as his own parted, though nothing came out. His head tilted slightly, thinking.

"Is it true?" was the first thing he asked. "Or is it just... I don't know, a random love song?"

Your eyes widened slightly, and you shook your head. "No, it's not a random love song." you said. "It... It's about you, Tim."

He nodded slightly, still shocked. "What about the- the trust issues you talk about? Or sing, for that matter." he inquired further. "Or the 'keeping at arms length'?"

You swallowed, sighing quietly as you looked away. "It's all true, yes." you admitted quietly. "And I know I should have told you, and I know you're having a lot of questions right now, but... I'm sorry."

Tim leaned forward over the middle console and placed his finger under your chin to lift your head, his blue eyes meeting your Y/E/C ones. "Hey, you have nothing to apologize for." he said, shaking his head slightly. "Yes, it would be nice to know the details behind it, but I understand that you didn't tell me. Or show me the song beforehand, for that matter. It's great, by the way - just like everything else about you."

You blushed, suddenly feeling undeserving of him. He was way too caring and understanding.

"I mean, I assumed some things..." he continued, tilting his head from side to side for a moment. "But I never pushed you to tell me. And I won't now. Neither did you on the subject of Isabel. If you want to tell me, I'm happy to listen, but you don't have to. Just know that I feel incredibly honored and love you."

Tears burned in your eyes, and suddenly, you knew you could trust him with everything. No more keeping him at arms length.

"I love you, too." you breathed out, smiling through the tears. "I just- I don't know." you shook your head in sudden embarrassment. "Ever since I got famous all the men seemed to want the same thing. Fame, my face as their way into Hollywood. To brag about their girlfriend being famous and make themselves look more important. Or try and hit me for not spoiling them like the ungrateful bitch I am." you grimaced, and his eyes widened before they narrowed. "I know you aren't like that, I do. I just couldn't shake this... habit of closing myself off and trying to avoid another one of these situations. I'm sorry, Tim. I know you are better than them. That song is about you and it is supposed to express how I feel about you."

Tim smiled, cupping your face with his hands. "You're so much more than your career, Y/N." he told you, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "You're a caring, beautiful and brilliant woman. You're far more than I deserve yet I'm too selfish to ever let you go. I love you more than you can imagine, and I want you to know that I'd never try to get any fame or benefits or whatever from you or your career. Let alone lay a hand on you. I love you too much to risk us - not that I'd need your fame or money. I'm a cop and I love being a cop. My girlfriend just happens to be an amazing singer."

You laughed quietly, blushing more. His words spread a warmth through you like no one else ever did. "You're flattering me." you mumbled sheepishly. He cocked a brow. "I'm not." he said. "You are an amazing singer. You're amazing in general, all over."

You laughed once more, a smile on your lips. "You're way too good for me, Tim Bradford." you said. "I'm the one not deserving you."

He huffed, tilting his head from side to side again. "Debatable." he said. He leaned closer, capturing your lips in a sweet and gentle kiss. "Come on, let's head inside." he mumbled against them. "I want to celebrate this song."

It had been about two weeks until your song seemed to have gained massive popularity, and when the letter landed in the mail weeks later, you screamed.

Tim had rushed into the kitchen, gun drawn as he tried to find out what happened. When he saw you with the letter in hand, pressing a hand to your mouth, he lowered the gun, stepping beside you.

One look at the letter and his lips parted.

You looked up in your excitement, almost headbutting him where he was looking over your shoulder. "Tim-" you breathed out, cutting yourself off with another squeal. He grimaced at the high sound, though laughing as he moved to hug you from behind.

"Baby, that's amazing." he breathed out. "I'm so proud of you." You bit your cheek, heart pounding wildly. "I- I mean, I haven't won anything yet." you said, fingers trembling as they held the letter. "But..." "But you're nominated." Tim finished for you. "That's more than most can wish for. This is amazing, Y/N. God, I'm so proud of you."

You smiled widely, clutching the letter to your chest. You giggled and jumped up and down in his arms, pressing a hand to your lips. Tim laughed quietly, holding tighter onto you, his nose brushing the shell of your ear. In the last few weeks you'd grown even closer, and it all felt more right than ever.

"Told you you're amazing."

Nervous wasn't word enough to describe your current state.

The Grammys.

The fucking Grammys.

Never would you have thought this would happen. Who would have thought you'd make it this far?

Fidgeting with your small clutch nervously, you took a deep, trembling breath. Tim grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers and giving them a reassuring squeeze. You'll be okay.

The wait had been torture.

Waiting for the day to come, waiting for the announcements. It was like a dream come true, yet the wait left you on edge.

You'd been nominated for single of the year. Your song about Tim Be Myself had literally exploded, landing you a spot at the Grammys.

You inhaled shakily as the nominees were announced before the moderator opened an envelope. She drew it out, making the anticipation rise higher and higher until your heart suddenly slammed to a stop.

"Best single of the year goes to... Be Myself!" Your lips parted, not believing what just happened. Tim cheered, the crowd applauded, and you got up on shaky legs.

You couldn't believe it.

This was more than you could have ever wished for, and as Tim pressed a kiss to your cheek, giving you the biggest, most proudest smile you'd ever seen on him before he ushered you to the stage, you knew it.

You knew he was the one.

He was the one that treated you right. The one that loved you unconditionally.

And you'd be forever grateful for that.

Tag List

@laheysfilm @newobsessionweekly @augustvandyne @RookieTrek @dhundhchrih @nachofriess @dtftheavengers @wonderland2425 @skywalker0809 @freyathehuntress @caplanbuckybarnes @sacredwarrior88

[kurstyxscave]

"Huh... Azul-kun sure does have a lot more people around him lately. Guess I have to learn to share..."

(Ah! Im' so excited to finally post this. I love @quartztwst noyansim au so much! So many cute and cool yuusonas. One of my fav's has got to be @liyuviq)

Btw he modified his uniform to fit gyaruo More Info:::

Does Kursor have parents or family?

Yes, but he and his little brother, a first year, room together in the dorms.

What are their thoughts on Quartz?

"I like her hair. Oh wait- She's probably nice. Like the rest of Azul's fan club."

He likes to people watch during lunch, so he has seen her around. He thinks she looks kinda cool.

What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?

They met when he went to check out the board game club before signing up. They are on good terms, but Kursor doubts that Azul would call him a friend even though he feels that way. He really likes beating Azul in games and teasing them over it, mostly because he likes watching him get red in the face and get all competitive. Those feelings make Kursor assume he might have a crush on Azul.

What are their relationships with other characters/OCs?

"Idia? Oh he's cool I guess. We both like BeatCats, so its not that hard to talk to him."

Only really ever hangout or talk in the clubroom. They can be caught talking for long bouts of time over all kinds of dorky shit. Kursor is super into dorks, so he overlooks Idia's worst traits.

"T-Trey?! Who told you to ask me about him?"

Massive crush on him and shit at hiding it. He has the awful habit of staring and occasionally literally drooling over Trey.

"I like their cardigan... Maybe I should get one... Oh! I want to draw her!"

He gets too anxious to start conversations with any of them outside of compliments, small greetings, and basic etiquette. So he people watches and draws whomever he feels like. Though, he does get a little jealous of the other rivals. He likes being able to hang out with Azul whenever he wants and gets anxious over losing that.

What grade/year is he?

He's a 3rd year (18).

What is Kursor's goal for the school year or in life?

He hopes to make more friends, or maybe even a partner, during the school year. He kinda hates how much he struggles with that. He really hopes to be recognized more positively as a monster.

Kursor is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does he react to that? Does he know it's Quartz?

He freaks the hell out, shifting into a werewolf in an attempt to escape wrongful imprisonment. He doesn't know it was Quartz specifically but his strong intuition keeps gnawing at him saying she did something. Unless if anyone else has antagonized him, he will keep thinking it was Quartz.

Kursor notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does he report this?

He tries to report it anonymously. He doesn't want anyone to think he said anything. He will always keep his guard up around Quartz from then on.

Where is Kursor usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch?

He can be found in the clubroom often. Between classes and lunch, he walks with his brother, stares at Trey, or very rarely trying to talk to Idia. Just as rarely, he attempts to ask Azul to eat with him one-on-one. Usually, he sits under a tree in the courtyard, eating and people watching.

How are his grades?

Kursor typically lucks his way into Bs. Cs at worst (he tries to study).

No Yandere Simulator ? (TWST AU)

AU Information:

This AU takes place similar to Yandere Sim but with Twisted Wonderland but Taro is Azul and Ayano is Quartz. Her goal is to eliminate… AZUL ASHENGROTTO. Yeah, her goal is actually to kill Azul and NOT the rivals. The rivals being your OCs/sonass and they have to protect Azul from Quartz and her dumb elimination plans.

More info on Quartz + Tweels info

Q&A for OCs!!! / PT 2

Flower Bullies info

Dormleader <- Student Council info + School info

This is an AU just for fun!! lol I just had a silly idea. Here’s a template if you wanna make your own oc into the AU (rival or not)

ALSO THEY DONT KNOW IT'S QUARTZ bc she's just a nobody girl

Bro you can tell I was hella lazy with Azul idk he’s too much

Rival List:

Romeo by @skrimpyskimpy

Shuu by @oya-oya-okay

Chiyo by @inotonline

Sable by @twsted-void

Jovie by @jovieinramshackle

Finn by @thehollowwriter

Elena by @angelwishess

Albert by @the-trinket-witch

Milo by @hy4c1nthh

Alice by @sinjaangels

Starrz by @astral-pr0jecti0n

Atlas by @silvery-stars-above

Mei by @ieatfriedeggs

Rubellite by @prefectrose

Yuuka by @hanizmiyu

NPC/Non-Rival List:

Elfie by @quartzelfgf

Higashikuramori Shin by @liyuviq

Jade Leech

Floyd Leech

Rizy by @rizdoodls

Yuuki by @theolivetree123

Joseph by @readsrandomstuff67

Yuubeni by @bunniehunn

Yuya by @cheerleaderman

Shuu and Silly by @sillybillymillyrilly

Superstar!! By @imafrealinrainbow478484

Viz (Vizzie) by @twistedwonderlandshenanigans

Yuhua by @distant-velleity

Nyx by @blackcat101

Gia by @ramshacklerumble

Yuuko by @silkkorchid

Moch by @thatsadguymochi

Faye by @faerieluvss

Yukana by @babyghoul138

Antoinette by @antoinettedoodles

AJ by @karamatsuboy-aj

Evelyuu by @h0neybane

Paloma and Hydris by @mhedusard

Levi by @the-trinket-witch

Alan by @alan-without-the-an

Vee and Viva by @evexe

Sophie by @gl00myb3arz

René by @tixdixl

Liánhuā by @lafashionlsta

Yuu Shi by @boopshoops

Xen by @xen-blank

Astrid by @cheerleaderman

Yumi by @marinahavik

Undine by @juchioris

Lilian by @sillyslipperybananapeel

Layla by @laylakongg

Niz by @hanizmiyu

The Yuris by @0ann3

Ryuuni by @rinis-reality

(Let me know if I made a mistake lol)

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

@dr-reids-fidget-toy#omg I didn’t know that about comic bucky that’s rlly cool

Starting a new post because I have off-topic Thoughts. Comic!Bucky contains fascinating commentary on the Cold War, WWII, and the media representations thereof. MCU!Bucky is (by necessity) pretty watered down. In the Brubaker comics, Bucky isn't brainwashed, at least not in the classic Marvel sense. He's just this guy who believes in the absolute rightness of his country, and has been in combat to support the U.S. since age ~14... and then he gets blown up by a missile, loses his memory, and Department X tells him "his country" is the USSR. So now he's the Winter Soldier. Nothing else about his personality or his politics changes. The Winter Soldier we see in the Brubaker comics is definitely a villain — he kills indiscriminately, kidnaps civilians to get his way, murders Rick Jones out of petty spite. But his personality is basically the same from childhood.

This is Steve remembering Bucky as a kid during WWII:

Brubaker retcons Bucky's role, from "kid sidekick who rushes in first and gets kidnapped, needing Captain America to rescue him," to "kid agent who infiltrates bases first, so that Captain America can follow him." With the memory loss, Bucky goes from slitting throats and setting off bombs for Uncle Sam, to doing it for Mother Russia. He's always been as cold and as willing to kill witnesses as he is as the Winter Soldier. It just never made the news reals.

And that's the other half of his retconned role: being propaganda for other child soldiers (e.g. Toro) who join up in his wake. This is Bucky and Steve watching a Cap and Bucky recruitment newsreel:

As an adult, the real difference isn't that Bucky is Soviet now; it's that he doesn't have Steve holding his leash anymore. To be clear, comic Winter Soldier also isn't free to come and go as he pleases — he's kept in a freezer between missions, he's probably not paid, he's in Department X — but he also has far more agency within the latitude of his orders. He's not dead-eyed and tortured by guilt like we see in the MCU. He goes on side quests to kill other Buckies. He argues constantly with Aleksander Lukin (the comic equivalent of Pierce). He complains about the inconvenience of not just sniping Steve in the head to steal the Tesseract.

Brubaker's point, throughout the comic, is that we have been lied to about World War II being "noble" or "good" or the story of the U.S. saving the day. And that that lie is used to prop up everything from U2 spy planes built with 100x the budget for education, to the Patriot Act nullifying the Fourth Amendment. Because not only is "WWII was a noble war fought without atrocities" nationalistic bullshit, but "Soviets are fundamentally different from us" is too. Bucky's continuity of character reveals both at once. He's a walking Soviet superweapon. Why? Because he was a walking American superweapon first, starting before he was old enough to shave.

Anyway, I get why the MCU had to change his backstory. You have to a) remind the audience who Bucky is, b) show-don't-tell why Steve is sad Bucky is trying to kill him, c) get across the idea that Bucky doesn't want to kill Steve but feels he has to, d) use Bucky to develop Steve's character, and e) set up a way for Bucky to get un-brainwashed. All within the span of ~30 minutes this movie has for this plot, amidst all the other plots. MCU!Bucky plaintively asking Pierce who Steve was, only to get slapped in the face, is sort of like AniTV!Tom constantly pawing at his ear: it quickly gets across that this character isn't acting under his own volition, in a way that minimizes audience confusion.

Plus: it's a Hollywood movie. It wouldn't get funded if it was too critical of the U.S. military. Movies are always, by definition, more conservative than other media because of their need for funding. And the MCU makes a decent effort to incorporate at least some criticism of the U.S., having Zola be involved in Operation Paperclip and having him (while working for the U.S.) order Howard Stark's murder. But a computer ghost reciting dry facts about the CIA recruiting Nazis doesn't have the same gut punch as watching the "good guys" send the literal child to knife his fellow child soldiers during WWII would have had.

[qqueenofhades]

I just wanted to say thank you for your last couple of posts (and your words on the current fuckery in general). It's been tough watching the fallout from across the globe and dreading the inevitable impact on our own elections this year.

I know this isn't the timeline either of us wanted to be in but your posts give me that but of necessary hope to keep going and fighting for better.

PS: I offer a picture of my cat Maya for comfort in these trying but will be endured times

FLUFFY. WHAT A GOOD FLUFFY. I WANT TO SNUGGLE THE FLUFFY (I AM ALLERGIC TO CATS WHICH IS WHY I MUST DO THIS VIRTUALLY, IT IS A GREAT SOURCE OF WOE AND INJUSTICE IN MY LIFE.)

....ahem.

Thanks, m'dear, and you're welcome. I am so sorry for the blizzard of bullshit that the Trumpsters are raining not just on America but the world, and it totally escapes me as to why half the country shrugged and went "eh we should elect him again." But that being as it is, Etc Etc Gandalf Nobody Wants To See These Times But We Must Decide What To Do With Them. So there is that.

Nobody DID want this timeline and it is existentially crushing to be back in it again, but... well. I am trying to limit my political posts to only the ones where I can offer a constructive action item or reassuring insight, because I don't see the point in just repeating all the no good very bad generally terrible things that are going on and which we already know about. I don't want to make light of anything or say that it's not bad, when we can see that it is very bad, but we've gotta keep our heads and a little perspective as best we can. So yeah.

My one important point for every single [insert bullshit fuckery fascist action du jour] is that we can't live and die on every 24-hour news cycle and immediately jump on every single bad thing they do, because as I keep saying, they want to wear us out and burn out our spirit to resist. So when we get obvious insane bullshit like "Elon Musk seized the financial data of every US citizen," well, we can immediately call our elected officials and so forth, but we must also pace ourselves and take the long view. This is flagrantly illegal. Everyone knows it. It will be sued and very probably enjoined. We do not need to hang onto every minute-by-minute update and traumatize ourselves into inaction, when our direct ability to influence it is limited.

We need to look at cat pictures, read books, enjoy our hobbies, look at the beautiful world, love our friends and family, make dinner, do chores, get up and keep going. If we are constantly reading or viewing content that upsets us, even when we agree with it or it comes from our friends, we need to take steps to curate it. It will not happen differently whether or not we stare at it all the time. So yes. We will get through this, but we cannot burn ourselves out in the first few weeks when they will obviously be front-loading all the most insane BS.

Courage.

[torturedtypewritersdept]

blue eyes + bruises - part nine

✯ pairing:

doctor!rafe cameron x fem!reader

✯ summary:

a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)

Your eyes focused on Rafe's scrub cap; the cartoon sharks grounded you and the thought almost made you giggle, the mere notion that something totally unrelated to who he was as a person, or something as childish as a cartoon animal being able to put you at ease was genuinely laughable. The operating room was the same as before, except, this time you were less afraid, knowing Rafe had seen you through this two times prior helped ease the anxieties that come along with surgery. He was dressed in seafoam colored surgical garb as he stood above you, tenderly rubbing your head, which was covered in a medical grade hair net, remnants of him were left against your skin in the form of tender kisses. 

“You doing okay, sweet girl?” 

He asked, more worried about your mental state than the physicality of it all. 

“I’m okay, sweet boy. So glad you’re here with me.” 

You smiled tenderly and he brushed his hand across your cheek, caressing the skin there for a moment. 

“Okay, sweetheart, count backwards from a hundred for me. Next time you open your eyes you’ll be cuddled up next to me, sweet girl.” 

He said, placing the oxygen mask over your face. 

-

“I hate this part.” 

Your groggy slurred words scared Jenni half to death as she stood by your bed, checking your vitals and notating them in your chart. 

“Hey, sweet girl.” 

Your eyes were still closed as Jenni brought her palm to your forehead. She looked down at you and smiled at the pout that your bottom lip sat in. 

“y/n, can you open your eyes for me, sweetheart?” 

She probed you again and you obliged, blinking your eyes slowly open for a moment before gaining enough of your bearings that your vision was no longer blurry. You take note of the pink tulips at your bedside with the words pretty girl scribbled on a card in your favorite person’s handwriting and smile to yourself; for a brief moment, you search the room for your most prized possession – him. 

“Where’s Rafe?” 

You questioned, voice shaky as sadness infiltrated your heart; his promise of being near when you awoke heavily sitting in the forefront of your mind. 

“He’s grabbing you some things, sweet girl.” 

“W-what? He’s not here? H-he said he’d be here. He’s coming back, right?” 

The sight of you almost broke her heart into a million pieces and she wondered what you meant – didn’t you know how much he loved you? He couldn’t possibly leave you here, he couldn’t possibly leave you at all. She watched as the tears collected in your eyes and spilled over your eyelashes, leaving streaky tire marks across the dirt field of your cheeks. Her hand met your forehead, rubbing the skin and your hair as she soothingly rubbed back and forth. You closed your eyes tightly as a wave of pain passed over you and a whimper escaped your lips. 

“Sweet girl, he’s coming right back, okay? I’m going to check the ice machine. Do you want some medicine?” 

She questioned, feeling next to helpless. As a nurse, she knew how to take care of someone in pain, but you were different. How can you take care of someone when their pain relief comes in human form? 

“Please.” 

One singular word left your lips; a whimper and whisper met like the tide and the sand. Jenni sat on the rolling stool, checking the ice machine to make sure the cold water was flowing into the pad that was secured to your knee by velcro straps. Once she felt confident that it was doing its job, she moved to your iv, inserting morphine into the line that connected to the vein in the top of your hand. 

“You’re going to feel better soon, sweetheart. I promise.” 

She cooed, sliding the stool against the white speckled gray flooring to be close to your upper half again before slipping the latex gloves that covered her hands off and into the trash. She rubbed the top of your head again and slid her opposite hand into yours. 

“Just sleep, sweet girl. You’ll see Rafe so soon. I promise.” 

-

Rafe came into your room not long after you fell asleep again, jeans, a gray t-shirt and a green cargo jacket covered him. His hands were filled with food — the world's best tomato bisque soup from your favorite Italian restaurant. Amongst the food in his grasp, he carted more of his shirts, shorts, and sweatpants for you to wear. He wanted you to feel comfortable but also for changing clothes to be easy for you and he couldn’t think of anything easier than clothes big enough to fit over the black brace that lined your leg. He dropped everything in the corner of the room, the food on the table and the clothes in the ugly plastic chair before he made his way over to you. Your delicate, soft features as you slept always made his stomach do backflips but there was something about knowing how sad you were in his absence that tugged at his heart strings. When he got the call from jenni that you had been crying and asking if he was coming back, it sent his caring nature into overdrive. 

“pretty girl” 

he whispered, his hands running delicately across your rosy cheeks. He didn’t get so much as a grunt in response and while he hated to wake you, you needed to eat. 

“Sweetheart, can you wake up for me?” 

he probed you again, his hands moving from your cheeks to your hair. As your eyes popped open and you took in the cerulean eyes that had become the wonder of your world, you let out a broken sob. 

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter, angel? Are you hurting badly?” 

He questioned, his brows furrowing as the tears leaked out of your eyes. 

“I didn’t think you were going to come back.” 

You muttered and his eyes went wide, moving quickly to get into the bed your frame laid in, curling body against yours until your head laid on his chest. 

“Baby, I'm always going to come back. Don’t you know that by now?” 

He asked in a hushed tone as he laid kisses against your head. 

“I know, but I wish you never had to leave to begin with.” 

Your statement shocked him, he knew he felt that way but he never imagined the feeling was mutual and at that moment he decided if he was really going to give love a second shot he had to stop thinking and just do. So he asked you the unthinkable. 

“Baby, would you want to move in with me? I know this might seem sudden because we’ve only been at this for a few months, but I want to take care of you and I don’t want to be without you ever again.” 

Rafe rambled and you stopped him with a kiss to his lips; soft and sweet yet aggressive enough to tell him to shut up. 

“Rafferty, of course I would.” 

You smiled, leaning back against his chest and you couldn’t help feeling like you had waited your whole life for — this. 

The day after your surgery, you woke up in Rafe’s arms, his forehead sat against your temple as his soft snores broke through your sleepy haze. One of his hands was draped across your waist while the other cradled your head. You breathed in his warmth, his smell was your favorite and having him in such close proximity after the weight of his question made your heart swell. He wanted you to move in with him. Despite all your earliest fears about none of this being real, about the stupid schoolgirl crush you had on your doctor, he had proved to you that this was real, that he was real and that he wasn’t going anywhere. You couldn’t help but be thankful for the road that led you here – the man you had always prayed for wrapped around you. You were brought out of your thoughts as Jenni made her way into the room. 

“Hey, pretty girl.” 

You were brought out of your thoughts at the sound of Jenni’s voice. She smiled from ear to ear, setting down the vials of medicine on the top of the table at your bedside. 

“Hey, J.” 

You whispered, throat still hoarse from the assault on your windpipe that being intubated for surgery created. She moved quickly, pouring water from the pitcher into a cup that sat next to the medicine she placed on the table. She plopped a straw into the liquid, before pinching the top of it with her gloved hand and bringing it to your lips. You drank furiously, gulping the cool drink down, marveling at how wonderfully it soothed your aching throat. 

“Is that better, baby girl?” 

She asked and you nodded, doing your best not to move too hastily in an attempt to keep the beautiful man next to you in his peaceful slumber. 

“It hurts.” 

You whimper, your lips moving into a pout as your eyes darted to Rafe’s sleeping form again. You wanted so badly to wake him long enough for him to whisper the reassurances that you needed, but you couldn’t. Rafe was tired after months of watching over you and putting you first and now, it was your turn. 

“I know, sweetheart. Do you want me to wake him up?” 

She questioned.

“No, let him sleep. He never sleeps.”

She nodded in response, knowing the truth behind your words. 

“I’m giving you some medicine, now and when Rafe wakes up we’ll get your knee moving, okay?” 

You acknowledge her with a nod and turn your head toward Rafe, placing a kiss on his forehead before closing your eyes and sleep overtaking you as his warmth radiated against your skin. 

-

Rafe awoke with a start; the same nightmare that he had grown accustomed to shaking him to his core – you and Molly infiltrated even his deepest subconscious dream state – a kaleidoscope of images of the deaths of the two women he loved had burrowed into his brain like a cat making a home out of a cardboard box. He quickly understood what his brain had conjured up wasn’t reality as he took in the delicate, soft features of your sweet face as you slept. Soft snores made their way out of your mouth and he smiled softly to himself, brushing a stray piece of hair out of your face. Jenni made her way into the room just as he placed a tender kiss on your forehead. 

“Good to see you’re up, how’s she doing?” 

Jenni asked, as Rafe pulled his head back from yours and moved slowly away from your grasp and out of the bed, throwing on the t-shirt he discarded onto the floor the previous night. 

“Still sleeping. It was a long night, she was in pain for most of it.” 

He responded, sadly. Though as a physician and a surgeon and a previous patient, he knew what kind of pain surgery brought on, he didn’t realize how much it would hurt him to see you in this state again. 

“Yeah, she was hurting pretty badly this morning when I came in.” 

He looked at your sleeping form again, a frown displayed on his features as he reached his head down and planted a kiss against your nose while simultaneously rubbing the top of your head. 

“This sweet girl has had a rough couple of months, Jenni. But, we’re in the home stretch, now. A couple more days and I’m taking her home. Have you talked to anyone in orthopedics who will bring up the cpm today?” 

“Sure have, boss, they’ll have a device rep come up as soon as she’s awake.”

He moved closer to Jenni pulling her in for a bear hug. 

“You’re a godsend, Jen.” 

He pulled away smiling as he rubbed up and down the sleeves of her scrubs. 

“You know I’d do anything for our girl, Rafferty.” 

“I know, Jen, me too.” 

He whispered in response as he continued to stare at your sleeping form. 

-

Almost two hours later, you had finally fully woken up and Rafe laid with you, your head on his chest as you took in deep breaths. The warmth of his chest was the only thing that could bring you comfort in your current moment. Your leg was sat on two pillows, lined with a black brace that extended from your thigh to your ankle with four buckles that kept it completely straight. Underneath the brace, your knee was covered in bandages and dressings, an ace wrap and the attachment to the ice machine sat on top of them keeping the swelling down as much as possible. You continued to take in Rafe as he ran his fingers through your hair, looking up at his sculpted jaw you couldn’t help but thank your lucky stars you had him to walk through the last few months with you. Even when you couldn’t physically walk, he was your constant, supporting the both of you on his own two legs; physically and figuratively. 

“Rafe, what’s the machine that they’re supposed to be bringing for?” 

You met his eyes; the cerulean blue of them complimenting the bruises that lined your body, as they always had. His hand came up to your head, fingers intertwining into your hair like the thorns mixed in the vine of a rose. 

“It’s just going to get your knee moving, baby. That way, it’ll make therapy easier in the long run and we can get your muscles woken up quicker.” 

He responded, kindly. But, the fear in your eyes didn’t go unnoticed. 

“I-is it going to hurt?” 

His eyes softened, knowing the amounts of pain you had been through in the last few months was overwhelming and your body is tired. 

“Yeah, baby. It’s going to hurt a little bit. I had to use one in college. But, this should be easy for you. It won’t be physically blinding pain like you felt during your pelvis recovery, it'll be more like stiffness and your muscles not wanting to move.” 

You nodded in response, whispering a frail “okay” against his fingertips as you moved your face toward them, kissing his knuckles. You looked back up to him, his baby blue eyes keeping you in a trance for what felt like forever and all you wanted to do was stay there with him forever. You were brought out of your trance as Jenni and the medical representative walked in and Rafe moved from the bed in pursuit to help them get the cpm set up and your knee moving as quickly as possible. Rafe lifted your leg up by the ankle, holding it in the air while they moved the pillows and put the machine in their place. 

 The continuous passive movement machine was your least favorite thing ever in existence. It was simple really, you laid your leg in it and it moved your knee slowly to aid in waking your muscles up and getting the blood flowing to your new ligaments. While it was simple in theory, the physicality of it was painful and as Rafe stood, the remote in his hands setting it to the lowest setting, he felt powerless as you cried at the movement. He made his way to the top of your bed, standing beside you, hands on your shoulders and hair, rubbing soothingly as he whispered sweet words about how proud he was of you. This is how you were going to spend the next six weeks; flat on your back with your leg in this horrible contraption for six to eight hours a day. You groaned in frustration as Rafe’s hands moved against your skin. 

“I know, baby. I know it hurts.” 

He whispered against your hairline, pulling back as the pads of his thumbs wiped the tears from your eyes. 

“Rafe, I’m just — I want to go home.” 

You replied, tears in your eyes as you pleaded with the man you loved to get you out of the sterile environment you had become accustomed to for so many months. 

“We’re going home tomorrow, baby. I promise.” 

He said, his lips meeting the sweet spot behind your ear. 

-

You sat on the bed, as Rafe slid his basketball shorts up your legs. He was gentle and easy, pulling you up and onto your good leg as he pulled the shorts over your hips. Once he did, he sat you back down on the bed for a brief moment. Rafe came through with his promise, preparing you for the transport to his apartment; the apartment that now, the two of you would share. 

“You ready, baby?” 

He asked, kneeling on the balls of his feet in front of you. You only nodded in response, your stomach churning the butter that was your insides as he lifted you bridal style, placing you into the wheelchair and wheeling you out of the room, for what you hoped would be the last time. He made it to the edge of the curb, where his truck was parked, opening the back passenger side door and sliding you in and making you comfortable. 

“Let’s go home, pretty girl.” 

He said, giving the foot that sat on two pillows a gentle squeeze before making his way to the driver’s seat. 

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[kingmaxstatic]

General Thoughts On The Pinaosaurus Situation.

[SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 4 FOR PPT]

I might not like. Post about PPT alot on here anymore but as someone who was hyped for Pinaosaurus...

... I kinda understand why he was killed off so quickly?

I know a lot of the posts in his tag right now are DEMANDING justice for him. I've honestly speculated since watching Chapter 4 that he was cut last minute. There's no proof of this but with the trailer and all the effort put into.. everything with him. I can't help but feel like he was going to have more.

But compared to the other characters.

The Doctor and Yarnaby. Characters that have been hinted it for a while.

Doey, a character who's story is so tragic and breaks hearts.

And the promising and safe Nightmare Critters...

Pinaosaurus never stood a chance.

I understand the disappointment! I really do! I'm one of the people who actually wants him to be in project playtime to make up for his concept seemingly being wasted.

But Pianosaurus would've made the chapter feel WAY too cluttered. He's a cool concept! Awesome design! But compared to the more story based characters and the already beloved Nightmare Critters he felt like a sacrifice everyone else.

I don't think anyone should be mad at the other characters. I love Doey, I love Yarnaby and I love the Nightmare critters.

But man, I'm hoping SOMETHING gets done with Pinaosaurus. He's charming! In his own way that's made him be wiggled into my heart. He's a cutie patootie!

[jeonscatalyst]

Being part of the biggest clown shippers of the k-pop and calling others idiots is a joke a phunnyyy one at that lol.

Like you jeonscatalyst even i thought this blogger was somewhat a normal tkkr because i once got recommended their post when i was searching something, they said jikook are good friends (bare minimum) so i was like damn that's the most intellectual thing i have ever seen a tkkr say. But then i once read there clownery in jkk tag and i had to block them because i don't have patients to see the stupidity in jkk tag. they had written a whole ass Thai bl script in that post and i was like the most reaction you're getting out of me for that post is a block. i genuinely thought this one was normal and doesn't ship taekook because jikook is a company ship but of course what do we expect from sheeps? to follow one another with a blind fold on.

Taekookers should be glad that jimin isn't what they want him to be (leaning more into fanservice lol) because Who jk asked to do a live with him? To jm and what did jm do? declined the offer. now WHO asked jk to do a live with him? tae. jm said he still remembers how bam used to sleep on his arm when he was baby but who has a pic posted with bam from company? tae with a caption "I raised bam" when not even jk was able to do that given his busy schedule so bam has spent most of his time in training center he still does. so jm and other members also knew bam way before ITS 2 and given that one pic of tae and bam seems like jk took bam to the comp and jm has known bam to say how he used to sleep in his arms but did he post anything? No. when jk was happy that he'll get his first boxing partner who was he talking about? JM. who does boxing together at the same centre? jm but who has posted a video of some regular boxing practice saying jk thought him even tho jk said he was just having fun with him? Tae.

Who has been with jk on his b'day (confirmed) multiple times? Jm but has he ever posted their pictures celebrating jk's b'day ever despite jm being physically present there? Never. even when in 2022 he posted jk's pic from his home jm literally zoomed in and cropped hell out of it and if it wasn't for jin asking jk we wouldn't even know jm was there and only AFTER jk confirmed jm being there, jm posted the pic so he doesn't care what shippers wants because if he did he would be doing that but i do remember tae posting a full pic of tae and jk on his b'day even tho jk posted the cropped one. Who was it who started live when vmin were outside jk's house? tae and who asked to cut the live and not bother jk who was doing live on his own? Jimin. who was who started live at jk's home when vhopekook were there? tae but i do remember jk saying he wasn't planning on starting any live but tae did so himself and did jm start any live when he was at jk's home? never. Jm was with jk when jk did live after his GMA perfomance yet jm didn't involve himself in jk's live and let hi do his own live even though we all already knew jm was in NYC itself cause even the host of the had asked jk. but i do remember Tae entering a suchwita episode of jk even when jk went "Can you leave we're filming something important?". it wouldn't have taken much from jm to get in jk's live but both lives jk did in NYC jm never once interfered or asked jk to start a live when they were together in NYC.

Who was it that went on live talking about calling jk and about the food? but when fans asked jm if he went to eat that dish he asked for jk and jm said no mind you he could have skipped the question not choosing to say it in the first place but he chose the question and answered honestly because he quite literally doesn't give a fk about what shippers want to hear and what not. How many times has tae gone live and mentioned ONLY jk and the deep the live? too many that everyone in the fandom was making a joke about it as to how tae's always talking about jk. But i do remember jm asking jk why was he even watching his videos (jm's videos in that 1.5 hrs live jk did) and that he should have slept.

Jimin is serving with jk for more than a year now and not even a single picture he's posted of him with jk and i can guarantee them that had it been any other pair serving in military together (pair excluding jm because he wouldn't have posted with anyone but maybe that other member have posted with jm who knows but never jm) we would have seen their pics together from military. we have all members posting their pics in uniform except jm, jk and yg. if jm actually leans into FS he would have posted once every now n then but guess what? he doesn't give a shit about that.

Also they should be glad that it's jm who gives updates of him and jk from MS (tho it's nothing much that we're doing well and talking) because if we leave it upto jk then man gives updates like "As soon as i finish my work i go to jimin hyung, we go a little away from other soldiers and sing out loud ", "me and jimin hyung sang this song almost Daily while showering together". they said jm saying he talks to jk before going to bed is somehow him sexualizing so what does jk saying all that says about him if jm was sexualizing? lol. they should be glad jm doens't give updates like jk because it's easy for him to say that jk comes to me after he finishes his duty but he never said like that when jk himself said it. they should decide who's updates they prefer then because jk has a habit of telling things in detail.

Saying jm leans more into fanservice and jk is considerate of tae's feelings when jk himself has described jm's charm is him being "considerate" like?? jk himself thinks jm is the most considerate. he literally said smth like being on his own is tae's charm (something like that) while jm's charm is being considerate when asked about member's charms. so if jk thinks jm is very considerate how is he the one leaning in FS while jk is setting boundries? Literally contradicting members' own words. mind you jk himself thinks that jm's Actions is something he takes from jm as in that part of jm is seen in jk. when someone asks jk why he's so considerate he says it's because he's following jm meaning he follows jm's consideration. The man who links all of his good doings immediately to jm, how are they claiming that same person doesn't know boundries? again contradicting with what jk actually says and thinks about jm.

By making these comparisons I'm not accusing tae of doing anything but I'm just showing them that if we sit here and start using their logic maybe before jm they'd have to start question tae IF they wanna go with their logic. They should be glad jm ain't what they project onto him.

Wow anon,

When you lay everything out like this, it becomes quite clear who could actually be considered to be “catering” to shippers…if we were to follow their own logic, that is.

I’ve always believed that the members have every right to mention, post about, or visit each other as much as they please. No part of me would ever see that as catering to shippers because, at the end of the day, they know each other intimately, and we, as outsiders, do not.

Given the way you’ve outlined things in your ask, it’s almost unbelievable that Tae does all of this, yet these same people still insist that Jimin is the one pandering to shippers. It’s even more absurd when you realize that the very people accusing Jimin of catering to shippers are the same ones who have Tae as their favorite and actively ship him with Jungkook. Can you imagine the uproar if Jimin had done even a fraction of what Tae has?

From the way they talk, it’s clear that they’ve never truly listened to what the members say. Actually, scratch that—they do listen, but only when they can twist the members’ words to fit their own narrative.

It’s funny what you uncover when you take a closer look at their history.

Here, we can all clearly see and hear Jungkook explaining that Jimin is good at leaving him alone after he asks once or twice, whereas Tae will come back about thirty times. The members all agree with him on this. Based on that, who seems to struggle with respecting boundaries? Who appears more inconsiderate of Jungkook’s feelings?

Absolutely nothing Jungkook said here or anywhere else implies that Jimin disregards boundaries or is some insensitive, selfish person who ignores the emotions of his friends. But I can bet most Taekookers haven’t even seen this and those who have, have likely convinced themselves that the members only said it because it was their “job.”

You know, because apparently, it was all part of some grand plan. According to them, the members were tasked with portraying Bang PD’s favorite, “Mimi,” as an angel. Cite anything from the members own words that contradicts their beliefs, and they’ll immediately claim the boys were lying, following a script, or just “doing their jobs.” Because, of course, Bang PD founded BigHit not to create music or cultivate artists but to sign idols into contracts that require them to spend their careers propping up Jimin’s image. Forget singing, dancing, and performing…their real job, apparently, is to sit down and say the nicest things about Jimin so the world can view him as an angel🙄

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #03 死

† breakfast and training †

"His eyes are the kind of dark that makes you forget there was ever light in the world. And you hate that you're starting to notice details about him."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 5.4k

rating: mature

content: training violence, weapons, strong language, sexual tension

☠ author's note ☠

HELLO MY FELLOW SLEEP-DEPRIVED CREATURES. Welcome back to another episode of "Kiki makes questionable life choices and writes fanfiction instead of sleeping"!

Can we talk about how I wrote like three different versions of the gun scene before my perfectionist brain was satisfied? And by satisfied I mean "fine whatever just post it I guess." Don't @ me about gun accuracy, I play Call of Duty sometimes that's research enough (ㆆᴗㆆ)

Also yes, I am absolutely living for the whole "oh no they're training together" trope. Sue me. Or don't, I'm broke. All I have is caffeine and the ability to make my characters suffer. Speaking of which - Jeon in combat mode? chef's kiss My boy is out there being all professional and grumpy while Y/N is just trying her best not to get shot. We love that for them.

PSA: The whole "Cookie" thing was totally self-indulgent and I regret nothing. V is here to cause chaos and honestly? Goals.

Special shoutout to my cat who watched me write this at 3 AM and judged me silently. You're the best beta reader a girl could ask for, even if your only feedback is knocking my coffee over.

See you next Tuesday, you beautiful disasters! Remember: sleep is for the weak and fanfiction is for life.

crawls back into writing cave while mainlining espresso

Kiki

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Mornings in the castle hit different. Through your window, the sky's doing that thing where it can't decide if it's still night or already dawn—all soft blues mixing with hints of gold. Everything's quiet, like the world's holding its breath.

Then your alarm goes off.

"Why did we agree to this again?" Yunjin whines from her bed, fumbling to shut up the annoying buzz. Her pink hair is a mess, splayed across her pillow like cotton candy gone wrong.

"Croissants," you remind her, stretching until your joints pop. "Fresh, buttery, heavenly croissants."

"Not hungry." She burrows deeper into her blanket cocoon. "Too early for hunger. Too early for existing."

You swing your legs off the bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor. "What happened to yesterday's 'new me, new goals' speech?"

"That was yesterday's Yunjin. Today's Yunjin chooses sleep."

With a snort, you pad over to her bed. It's literally two steps away—your shared room is cozy like that, with just enough space for two singles and matching bedside tables. You give her shoulder a gentle shake.

"And what's tomorrow's Yunjin gonna think about that?"

"Tomorrow's Yunjin's problem," she mumbles, death-gripping her blanket. Smart girl. She knows your next move would've been stealing it.

"Then it's tomorrow's me problem too!" You can't help but laugh, and it finally gets her to peek one eye open.

She lets out the longest, most dramatic sigh. "Fine. Fine. You win."

Your shared laughter is soft, comfortable. It's weird how quickly Yunjin became your person here. Maybe because she's as new to this as you are—no pressure to measure up to badasses like Chaewon or keep your guard up around intimidating figures like V and Jeon.

She joined two months before you did. For her, it meant saying goodbye to having her own room, but she says it was worth the trade-off. Girl's a mess when it comes to sleep schedules, but she keeps your shared space spotless and her determination is s̶c̶a̶r̶y̶ impressive. Like, you've seen her practice seduction techniques until 3 AM, and now here she is, dragging herself up at dawn for... well, croissants and self-improvement.

There's something genuinely good about Yunjin. She's always there—to help, to listen, to just be. Five months in and everyone in Seduction already adores her. Yeah, she's clumsy as hell during physical training, but her mind is sharp. Nothing gets past her—it's like she's got a built-in lie detector.

After yesterday morning's... incident, you're extra grateful for her company.

You both grab your digital cards from your bedside tables—can't go anywhere in this place without them. They're basically your whole identity here, determining which doors open for you and which stay firmly shut.

The castle corridors feel endless this early. Most members are probably still sleeping or doing whatever gang members do at dawn. Your footsteps echo softly as you and Yunjin make your way to the cafeteria, keeping the conversation light.

"Have you had breakfast here before?" you ask, watching her stifle another yawn.

"Once." She nods, her pink ponytail bouncing. "Got up at 10 though. Wasn't worth sacrificing sleep for."

You can't help but smile. "Early breakfast hits different. You'll see."

When you reach the cafeteria, Yunjin taps her digital card against the scanner. The light blinks green, and suddenly your nose is filled with the heavenly smell of fresh pastries. Inside, only a handful of early birds are scattered around the massive space. Makes sense—most people here prefer their beds at this hour.

Your eyes do their usual sweep of the room, casual and practiced. But then something pulls at you, like a magnet finding true north. Your gaze locks with dark, piercing ones.

Jeon.

"Oh, that's Jeon, right?" Yunjin's voice cuts through your thoughts. "Guess he likes mornings too."

You nod, still watching him from the safety of the doorway. Something about the distance makes you feel almost safe. He's got that thing about him—that unmistakable aura of authority that even 6 AM can't dim.

"Damn," Yunjin says after a beat, blunt as ever. "He's hot."

"Let's get food," you mutter, rolling your eyes and heading for the pastry section.

You and Yunjin load up your plates with a bit of everything, especially those famous croissants. Finding a quiet corner, you settle in to enjoy both the food and each other's company, pointedly not thinking about piercing dark eyes or brooding corners.

You try to look casual as your eyes drift back to Jeon for the hundredth time.

He's sitting there, both hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee like it's his lifeline to sanity this early in the morning. The sight of those tattooed fingers curled around plain white ceramic does something to your brain that you'd rather not examine too closely.

"You know, I heard something interesting about him." Yunjin's voice makes you jump. S̶h̶i̶t̶ Great, she caught you staring.

"Oh?" You tilt your head, hoping your voice sounds more curious than guilty.

Yunjin leans in conspiratorially, her pink hair falling forward as she drops her voice to barely above a whisper. It's kind of unnecessary given how far away Jeon is, but there's something about him that makes everyone speak in hushed tones.

"Apparently, he's got this whole... ritual thing going on. Every single morning, without fail, he makes sure he's the first one to get fresh coffee. Like, the first cup from a fresh pot."

Your eyes track back to that cup held between ink-covered fingers. Now that she mentions it, you've never seen him drink anything else in the mornings. The way he's savoring it, eyes closed and expression almost peaceful, makes you think Yunjin might be onto something.

"Every day? He's literally the first one here?" The mental image of Jeon lurking outside the cafeteria doors, waiting for them to unlock, is both hilarious and weirdly endearing.

"From what I've heard. Maybe it's a power move?" Yunjin suggests with a soft laugh. "You know, asserting dominance through caffeine consumption."

The idea of someone as intimidating as Jeon—co-leader of the Assassination Division, member of the Council of 9, literal professional killer—climbing the ranks of one of South Korea's most dangerous gangs just to secure his morning coffee makes something bubble up in your chest.. You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing too loud.

"Imagine that being his master plan all along," you snort. "Join gang, become assassination chief, get first dibs on coffee."

You both dissolve into quiet giggles, but the moment shatters when something shifts in the air. It's like thorny vines suddenly wrapping around your lungs, making it hard to breathe. You don't need to look to know who it is.

"Mind if I join the fun?" V's voice slides over your skin like honey laced with poison, playful but with that edge that makes your hair stand on end.

His arms drape over your shoulders without warning, caging you and Yunjin in what should be a friendly gesture but feels more like being trapped. Your muscles tense automatically. There's something about V that keeps you perpetually on edge—like admiring a rose only to remember it's got thorns that could draw blood.

Yunjin manages a wobbly smile, but you can tell she's as unsettled as you are by his sudden appearance. "We were just... talking about coffee."

"Coffee?" V drawls the word like it personally offends him. He pulls back, throwing his arms behind his head in that carelessly graceful way of his, but stays close enough that you can smell cinnamon. "Boring. Now, this new training program? That's something worth discussing."

His eyes glint with mischief, reminding you of a cat playing with its food. "I'm keen to see what you girls bring to the table. Should be... intriguing, don't you think?"

The way he says it makes your skin crawl. There's nothing overtly threatening about his words, but the undercurrent is clear—the Assassination Division isn't known for playing nice, and V seems to view the upcoming cross-training as his personal playground.

"I'm sure it will be enlightening," you say carefully.

V's energy is infectious, but not in a good way. More like a disease you're trying not to catch.

He chuckles, and those thorny vines around your lungs squeeze tighter. "Oh, I'm sure it will be. And don't worry, yours truly will be there to add a little spice to the mix. Can't let things get too dull, can we?"

Before you can respond, his attention snaps to something—or someone��across the cafeteria. With a dismissive wave that somehow manages to feel both elegant and insulting, he strides off as suddenly as he appeared.

You exchange looks with Yunjin, both of you sagging with relief once he's gone. She looks as drained as you feel, like V's presence alone sucked all the energy from the room.

"Well, that was... something," Yunjin says, and you could write a whole essay about everything packed into that single word. Her pink hair is still slightly disheveled from where V's dramatic entrance messed it up.

"That's one way to put it." You try to shake off the phantom feeling of thorny vines around your lungs. V's presence leaves you feeling like you've been through some kind of emotional washing machine—tumbled around and wrung out.

"But oh my god." Yunjin's whole face suddenly lights up like she's remembered something amazing. The whiplash from her mood shift almost gives you vertigo.

"What?" You ask, though part of you already knows where this is going. Yunjin might be shy and perceptive, but she's also a total simp when it comes to pretty faces.

"He is SO handsome?" Her voice rises with genuine awe. "Everyone kept saying he looks like a prince, but I thought they were exaggerating. They were not."

You raise an eyebrow, wondering if you were even in the same conversation just now. Sure, V's gorgeous—that's kind of his whole thing. The dangerous beauty, the dripping poison. But after feeling his aura wrap around you like a boa constrictor, 'handsome' isn't exactly the first word that comes to mind.

"Did you miss the whole creepy vibe?" You keep your voice low, even though V's long gone. Some habits die hard in this place. "He talked about the training program like he's planning to turn it into his personal episode of Squid Game. With popcorn."

"Yeah, but like..." Yunjin waves her hand dismissively, "have you seen his face? Those cheekbones? That jawline?"

"The way he's probably plotting our deaths as we speak?" You counter, but you can't help the smile tugging at your lips. Trust Yunjin to focus on the aesthetics while completely ignoring the red flags. It's kind of adorable, in a concerning way.

"Doesn't change the fact that he's eye candy," she says with zero shame, stabbing her fork into her breakfast. "Like, premium, expensive, imported chocolate level of eye candy."

"True," you admit, finally taking a proper bite of your croissant.

And it is true—V's got that whole ethereal beauty thing going on, like a masterpiece painting that happens to be slightly cursed. The kind of face that belongs in museums but also probably comes alive at night to terrorize security guards.

But even as you acknowledge V's obvious appeal, your eyes betray you, drifting back to that other corner of the cafeteria. Back to dark eyes and hurricanes.

Back to Jeon.

It's not like you mean to look.

It just... happens.

Like your gaze has some kind of magnetic programming that keeps pulling it in his direction.

Which is s̶t̶u̶p̶i̶d̶ inconvenient because the last thing you need is to get caught staring at one of the most dangerous men in Kkangpae while you've got croissant crumbs on your face.

The rest of your morning slips by without V popping up again to make your skin crawl. You try to focus on getting ready for what's coming, but your mind keeps drifting to the upcoming training.

Working with Jeon and V's division? Yeah, that's not anxiety-inducing at all.

When you step onto the training field outside the castle, the change of scenery hits different. After being cooped up in the gang's concrete maze, the open space and towering trees feel almost surreal. The cold morning air bites at your lungs—a wake-up call you didn't ask for but probably need.

Today's not just another training day. It's your first cross-training with the Assassination Division, and the tension in the air is so thick you could cut it with one of V's knives.

Your stomach does this weird flip-flop thing as you walk towards the gathering crowd. Working with Jeon after... that incident? Not exactly on your bucket list. The memory of your last encounter sits heavy in your chest, making each step feel like you're walking through mud.

The Assassination Division is already there when you arrive, looking like they stepped out of some action movie poster. Some look ready to murder, others look ready for a nap. But it's Jeon who catches your eye—impossible not to, really. It's like the air itself is swirling around him like a storm about to break.

He's got that look on his face—you know the one. All business, no bullshit, could probably kill you with his pinky finger.

No sign of V though.

Makes sense, when you think about it. Those two aren't exactly besties—more like two wolves forced to share the same territory. Their whole approach to killing is different as night and day.

Jeon's all about precision. Clean shots, minimal mess, maximum efficiency. He's the type to plan every detail, calculate every variable. Need someone taken out from two buildings away without anyone even knowing what happened? That's his specialty. The human equivalent of a surgical strike.

V though? He's chaos incarnate. Gets up close and personal with his kills, leaves a message written in blood if he feels like it. He's the guy you call when you want someone dead and don't care how messy it gets. Planning? Fuck planning—V works on pure instinct and improvisation.

The crowd goes quiet as Jeon steps forward. The atmosphere shifts, less like a raging storm now and more like the heavy air before thunder breaks. When he speaks, his voice does that thing where it demands attention without actually raising in volume. And despite everything—despite knowing better—you find yourself leaning in slightly to catch every word.

"Your state of mind is everything in this line of work," he says, dark eyes scanning the crowd like he's reading everyone's potential in real time. "A calm, collected mind can mean the difference between life and death."

The task he lays out seems simple enough: shoot the cardboard target, hit the center, don't mess it up. But as you watch others take their turns, that knot in your stomach keeps getting tighter.

The gun feels wrong in your hand. Not that you haven't held one before—basic training covers that—but this is different. This is him watching, and somehow that makes your palms extra sweaty.

Then your turn's up.

Walking to the mark feels like crossing a minefield, every step measured and tense. Your heart's going so hard you can barely hear anything else.

Focus. You need to focus.

But Jeon's standing right there, making the air thick and hard to breathe. Your finger hovers over the trigger, but doubt creeps in like poison.

The target blurs in and out. You can feel Jeon watching, that heavy gaze picking apart every flaw in your stance. The pressure builds in your chest until you're sure something's gonna snap.

Just a bit longer. You need to be absolutely sure before taking the shot.

It's not like Seduction gets much practice with actual weapons—your arsenal usually involves batting eyelashes and strategic flirting, not bullets and gunpowder. So it's no wonder the gun starts slipping through your sweaty fingers.

You tighten your grip. A surge of determination hits you like a shot of adrenaline. Come on. It's just cardboard. You've handled way worse situations than this. You can do this.

Your finger starts to squeeze the trigger—

BANG.

That... wasn't your gun.

You flinch, turning toward the sound before you can stop yourself. Through the corner of your eye, you catch smoke curling from Jeon's pistol.

He's standing there looking bored, arm extended like this is just another one of his daily mornings. The gun fits his hand like it was molded for him, an extension of his body rather than a weapon.

When your eyes snap to the target, there it is—perfect shot, dead center, because of course it is.

A̶s̶s̶h̶o̶l̶e̶ Show-off.

You lower your gun, lips pressed tight. His gaze sits heavy on your shoulders, hurricane pressure bearing down until you want to scream. His face gives nothing away, but those dark eyes say plenty—and none of it's good.

"If you're not quick enough, you'll get killed." His voice cuts like ice. "Let that be a reminder for everyone else."

The words hit like a slap. Heat rushes to your face—anger, embarrassment, frustration, all mixing together into something that makes you want to either punch something or crawl into a hole. Preferably punch him, but you're very aware of everyone watching this little show he's putting on.

Both divisions are staring, and you've never felt more like a fish in a very small, very exposed bowl.

Your eyes meet Jeon's, and suddenly breathing gets hard. His stare hits different—those dark eyes boring into yours like he's trying to read your soul, pupils blown wide in a way that makes your stomach do weird flips.

That silver lip ring catches the light when his mouth twists into something s̶e̶x̶y̶ condescending. He opens his mouth—probably to tear into you some more—but then—

BANG.

Everyone drops like puppets with cut strings. Pure instinct.

It's instant chaos. Voices rise into a crescendo of shouts and commands, bodies moving with practiced urgency.

It's kind of beautiful, in a messed-up way—how quickly personal beef gets shelved when shit hits the fan. One minute Jeon's looking at you like you're dirt on his boot, next second he's barking orders to keep everyone safe.

Your heart's in your throat as you scan the crowd for a flash of pink hair.

Yunjin.

But Yunjin's nowhere.

The sea of faces blurs together—no Kazuha, no Eunchae, not even Sakura. Even Chaewon's vanished, which is weird because she's usually got this sixth sense about danger.

Another shot cracks through the air. Your fingers tighten around your gun until your knuckles go white. Your eyes keep drifting to the treeline, where shadows dance between patches of dark green.

A calm, collected mind can mean the difference between life and death.

His words echo in your head, which is ironic considering how not calm you feel right now.

Fuck it.

You're moving before you can second-guess yourself, legs carrying you toward the forest. Maybe it's stupid, but you need space to think. To be calm, like he said.

Plus, the trees might give you cover—an advantage you desperately need right now.

The forest swallows you up. Sunlight filters through leaves overhead, painting everything in shifting patterns of light and shadow. Every step crunches on dead leaves, making you wince. So much for stealth.

V wouldn't be happy.

The chaos from the training ground fades the deeper you go, replaced by normal forest sounds—birds chattering overhead, small animals rustling in the bushes. It's almost peaceful, if you ignore the whole possible death situation.

You spot it then—a ridge overlooking the training ground, hidden behind thick bushes. Perfect vantage point, if you can reach it. The climb makes your muscles burn, but you manage. Up here, you force yourself to breathe slow and steady, trying to quiet your racing heart. Your fingers trace the gun's cold metal like a lifeline.

Your back hits the tree with a thud. The bark scrapes against your spine through your shirt, but you barely notice. Every nerve in your body is focused on that rustling sound behind you.

Footsteps.

Your breath catches. They're quiet—too quiet to be some random person stumbling through the woods.

No, these are the steps of someone who knows how to move silently. Someone trained.

Adrenaline floods your system as you press yourself flatter against the tree. Your fingers tighten around the gun until your knuckles go white. Through a gap in the leaves, you try to catch a glimpse of whoever's approaching, but the foliage is too thick.

Friend or foe?

The question pounds in your head with each careful footstep drawing closer. Your mind races, too many possibilities—it could be an enemy, could be another member searching the area.

Could be death or salvation walking your way.

The steps are almost upon you now. Your breathing goes shallow, controlled. You might be exposed up here, but they don't know that. Surprise is your only advantage right now.

Shoot or strike?

The dilemma tears at you. A gunshot would alert everyone to your location. And if it turns out to be an ally... F̶u̶c̶k̶ No. Hand-to-hand is safer. Quieter. Less explaining to do if you're wrong.

Your muscles coil tight as a spring. When the footsteps are close enough, you launch yourself from behind the tree in one fluid motion, aiming to take them down hard and fast.

Instead, you slam into what feels like a brick wall.

Oh.

It's Jeon.

His reflexes are insane—before you can even process who he is, he's already moving. The air sweeps around you as he twists, disarming you with embarrassing ease. Your gun hits the ground with a clatter that seems to echo through the whole forest.

Recognition hits you both at the same moment. That flicker of shock in his eyes quickly turns to his usual look of disdain, because of course it does.

Then—a misstep.

Your ankle rolls, sending white-hot pain shooting up your leg. You stumble, sucking in a sharp breath. His grip on you loosens just slightly, and something that might be concern flashes across his face before his usual cold mask slips back into place.

"You okay?" His voice is gruff, like the words are being dragged out of him against his will.

"Just perfect," you snap back, because fuck his concern when your ankle feels like it's on fire and your pride hurts even worse.

He just stands there, staring at you with those dark eyes that see too much.

"What the hell were you thinking?" A pause, one eyebrow lifting. "You have a gun, don't you?"

You almost laugh. Because of course. If you'd shot at him, he'd be lecturing you about trigger discipline. Attack hand-to-hand, and suddenly you're an idiot for not using your weapon.

You seriously can't win with this man.

"Well, good thing I didn't use it on you then." The words come out lighter than you feel, dancing between playful and pissed. "And what are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be back there playing commander?"

"That's what deputies are for." The casual way he says it makes your teeth grind. "Besides, I dispatched a team to check the gunfire. Just my luck, running into you instead."

"Pleasure's all mine, chief." You load the title with all the sarcasm you can muster.

"And you?" His dark eyes study you like you're a particularly puzzling target he can't quite line up. "Any reason you're out here instead of following orders?"

"Didn't get any orders to follow." You cross your arms, ignoring how his presence makes your skin prickle. "And that ridge over there?" You jab a finger toward the overlook. "Perfect vantage point. I was trying to be strategic before you showed up."

He actually grimaces at that, like your logic physically pains him. But before he can open his mouth to deliver what's surely another lecture, you add:

"Just my luck, running into you instead."

The words—his own words turned back on him—hit their mark. His eyebrow twitches just slightly, and satisfaction blooms warm in your chest.

Score one for you.

But before you can inwardly celebrate, he grimaces. He actually grimaces before he opens his stupid mouth again.

"That?" His voice drips with condescension. "You think that's prime real estate for observation?" The asshole holds back a laughter. "Alright." He says, and you ponder the merits of hitting him with a rock.

But then he begins walking, and you trail after him, partly because s̶c̶r̶e̶w̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ he's wrong and partly because... well, where else are you gonna go?

"Remind me again—which one of us specializes in persuasion and observation?" You can't keep the annoyance from your voice. His arrogance is starting to give you a headache.

"And which one of us is known for sniping?" He tilts his head just enough for you to catch the silver flash of his eyebrow piercing. "You think I don't know a thing or two about picking vantage points?"

"Just because you can shoot from far away doesn't mean you know the best places to shoot from." The words come out sharper than intended. "What works for a sniper might not work for surveillance. They're different skill sets."

"How so?" He doesn't even bother looking back now. "A lookout's a lookout, smartass."

Your hands find your hips. "You know what? Ask me that again when you sit in on our cross-training. Might learn something useful."

"Learn from an ensign?" His tilt is mocking. "No—learn from you?" He lets out a low chuckle that makes your teeth grind. "Pretty sure it works the other way around."

"Forgot about Flower?" You can't help the snark in your voice. "She's a chief too, and I'm sure she'd love to put you in your place."

The exhale he lets out is so exaggerated it has to be for dramatic effect. "You're insufferable."

"Feeling's mutual, chief."

You trail behind Jeon through the darkness, trying to ignore how his mere presence makes the night air feel electric against your skin. The silence wraps around you both, broken only by your footsteps until—

A rustle in the underbrush.

Before you can react, his hand clamps around your wrist. No warning, no words—just the firm press of tattooed fingers against your pulse point as he yanks you behind a massive rock. You crash against him, bodies colliding in a mess of limbs and s̶h̶i̶t̶ startled breath.

You open your mouth to tell him exactly what you think about being manhandled, but his finger presses against his lips. Shut up. His eyes scan the darkness beyond your hiding spot, focused and lethal.

And suddenly you're way too aware of him.

The moonlight paints him in silver and shadow, highlighting things you've never noticed before. Like how his eyebrow piercing catches the light—two tiny beads of silver that draw attention to the way his brow furrows in concentration. Or how that lip ring glints when his mouth sets in that stern line you know too well.

There's a scar on his left cheek—barely there, really. Just a whisper of a mark that makes you wonder what story it tells. Your eyes drift lower, catching on the small mole decorating the left side of his neck. It's such a delicate detail on someone who radiates danger, like finding a flower growing through concrete.

But it's his eyes that f̶u̶c̶k̶ y̶o̶u̶ u̶p̶ catch you off guard. Dark and deep, framed by stupidly long lashes that flutter when he blinks. They're beautiful in a way that makes your chest tight—and isn't that just f̶u̶c̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ fantastic? You didn't need to know that about him.

This close, you can see the tiny lines at the corners of those eyes. They speak of sleepless nights and heavy choices, of burdens carried too long alone. Watching him like this—he feels different now, less like a storm trying to drown you and more like standing in summer rain.

The realization hits like a punch to the gut: you're seeing Jeon. Not the cold-as-ice division chief or the intimidating Council member. Just... him. Human.

Complex.

His fingers are still wrapped around your wrist like an iron band. If anything, his grip's gotten tighter, and you're caught between wanting to yank free and being weirdly aware of how warm his hand is against your skin in the cool night air. It's hard to tell if you're feeling trapped or protected.

The footsteps draw closer—deliberate, confident. Not someone trying to hide.

You watch a muscle tick in Jeon's jaw, the kind of tiny detail you wouldn't normally notice if you weren't pressed so close to him. It's fascinating, in an annoying way, how he can look so calm while radiating such intense energy.

His eyes flick to yours for just a second, but it feels loaded with... something. Like you're suddenly partners in this mess, whether you like it or not. It's more communication than you've had in all your previous conversations combined.

The rustling gets louder. You hold your breath. Jeon's gone statue-still beside you, but you can feel the coiled tension in him. His dark eyes snap to a spot in the trees, then back to you with unnerving intensity.

"Shoot there."

You stare at him like he's lost his mind. "What?"

"There." His voice is barely a whisper, rough with urgency. He jerks his chin toward whatever he's seeing that you're apparently missing.

"You want me to shoot a tree branch?" The skepticism in your whisper could cut glass. "Seriously?"

"Just do what you're told." The words rumble out of him like distant thunder, crackling with impatience.

You give Jeon a look, but arguing isn't an option right now.

The gun feels heavy as you line up the shot. Your finger finds the trigger, and for a split second, everything goes quiet. The bang echoes through the trees, making your ears ring. You watch as the bullet hits exactly where Jeon wanted—that innocent-looking branch that apparently wasn't so innocent after all.

A net explodes from the darkness like some kind of ninja trap, shooting toward the approaching figure. But whoever it is moves like water—fluid, impossible, beautiful in a terrifying way. The net hits empty ground with a sad little flutter while your brain tries to process what just happened.

Beside you, Jeon goes still. If you weren't pressed so close, you might have missed that tiny hitch in his breath—the only sign that this wasn't part of his plan. His eyes narrow just slightly, that crack in his perfect mask making your stomach do weird flips.

He pushes you back against the rock, putting himself between you and whatever's coming. The stone digs into your spine, cold and rough through your clothes.

Then everything happens at once.

A shadow vaults over your hiding spot, moving with deadly grace. Gunshots crack through the night, and suddenly Jeon's shoving you down, his body covering yours. The world spins into a blur of motion and sound, your pulse drumming so loud you can barely think.

When reality settles back into focus, you watch the figure reach for their mask. Your fingers tighten on your gun, waiting to see what kind of threat managed to dodge one of Jeon's traps.

The mask comes off.

Oh for fuck's sake.

V's grinning like the cat that got the cream. "Paintball night!" he announces with way too much glee for someone who just scared the shit out of you.

Relief and irritation war in your chest. Of course it's V. Who else would turn a simple training exercise into their personal dramatic performance?

You watch Jeon's shoulders drop, but the annoyance is written all over his face. His jaw's so tight you can practically hear all the curses he's not saying.

Always the professional, even when he's irritated.

V's eyes dances with delight as he watches Jeon simmer. "Don't look at me like that, Kookie," he coos, lips curling into that signature smirk that makes you want to take a step back.

Cookie?

You blink, trying to process that nickname. Looking at Jeon—all dark clothes, silver piercings, and intimidating tattoos—the last thing that comes to mind is anything remotely cute or sweet. The mental image of him buying cookies from some terrified boy scouts makes you bite back a laugh.

Now that's a story you'd pay to hear.

Jeon's eyebrow shoots up in that way that somehow manages to say f̶u̶c̶k̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ more effectively than actual words. His tongue pushes against the inside of his cheek, jaw working like he's physically holding back whatever he wants to say. He's irritated.

"I'll give you some advantage," V sighs dramatically, thorny vines wrapping around your lungs even from this distance. "No fun beating you when you're unarmed." The words drip with amusement, like this whole thing is his favorite game. "See ya."

With one last unsettling grin, he melts into the darkness. Because of course he does. Dramatic asshole.

You're still sprawled on the ground, processing what just happened. Leave it to V to turn a regular night into some twisted paintball training session. The man's idea of "improving stealth skills" is giving everyone heart attacks.

Beside you, Jeon's muscles finally uncoil from their battle-ready stance. He looms over you, and you can't tell if the expression on his face is more annoyed or relieved.

"You gonna get up or what?" The words come out gruff, but there's something else there. Something that might be concern if you squint.

Then his hand appears in front of your face. You stare at it for a second, surprised. It's weirdly bare compared to his tattooed arms, and you hesitate before taking it. His grip is firm but careful as he helps you up.

The whole night feels surreal —one weird training session bleeding into another. You glance at Jeon as he stretches, working out the tension in his shoulders.

The mystery of "Cookie" tugs at your curiosity, but one look at his face tells you now's not the time to ask.

Some mysteries are probably better left unsolved.

next | index

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@cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @redcherrykook @somehowukook

© jungkoode 2025 no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[gub-bins]

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO PAY ANY MONEY TO SEE SPACE BABY.

YOU HAVE TO PAY MONEY IF YOU WANT TO SEE IT EARLY, ALL AT ONCE, WITH THE CREATOR TALKBACK. THIS IS A STARKID BUSINESS MODEL THAT HAS EXISTED SINCE 2014, IT IS NOT "BEHIND A SECOND PAYWALL", IT IS A WAY TO GIVE A LITTLE EXTRA MONEY TO THE ARTISTS WHO WORKED ON THE SHOW KNOWING FULL WELL THAT IT IS AN EXPERIMENTAL PILOT AND COULD FLOP.

anyways. hi this is my rant blog so here's the rant

tldr: starkid needs a social media manager, they don't make the youtube residuals or ticket sales profit you think they do, chicago and la are great places to do theatre due to the audiences they draw but they are SO FUCKING EXPENSIVE, capitalism is rotting this country from the inside out and starkid knows this better than anyone

first and foremost:

curt mega is not a legal representative of starkid and he is entirely within his rights to defend misconceptions about the art he makes. he is so respectful to the fandom on here, even apologizing to the confessions blog after accidentally following them because he wants fans to have a safe space where they don't feel like they're being monitored by someone from the company. there is nothing wrong with him trying to assuage people's fears about the show. debunk whatever you want my dude (including if i say anything wrong in this post!)

i am not, under any circumstances, a blind defender of starkid. they've made choices that i do not enjoy in the 15 years that i've been watching them. like i say in this post, i think fans need more notice than a week if there is going to be a livestream we have* to pay money for. i would like a musical that is composed by someone other than jeff or clark. i wish the black friday deluxe download had the digital ticket in it. i wish jangle ball could've come to the actual southeast rather than claiming to be coming to the east coast then hanging out in new york (but as you'll see, that would've cost MONEYYYY). you will notice that these are nitpicky personal grievances. that's the point. im not gonna shell out completely for a group of white guys in LA, no matter how autistic i am about the musicals they make.

as someone who also donated to starkid returns and has also been disappointed to see how long it's taken for this stuff to get off the ground (I absolutely loved cinderella's castle but i would not have minded waiting for it if it meant we got space baby sooner or sissy/ttip. i want to see/read Sissy SO FUCKING BAD)

but think about it. starkid returns made $386,000. a weeklong rental of the El Portal Theatre costs $12,000. so for two weeks of tech thats $24,000. the two weekends of performances were $6,000-7,500 each. it's $7500 per shoot day for a film production. already, that's almost $50,000. Now think about renting film equipment, making costumes, sets, props, paying the cast, crew, theatre technicians, house management, REHEARSAL SPACE RENTAL, we don't know if any of the actors had to be housed in LA while they were working on the show, not to mention getting merch made (FUCKING EXPENSIVE). And that's just on Nerdy Prudes. They also had an entire fucking national tour to fund. i ain't doin the math on every theatre they rented for that tho.

while the 10iversary kickstarter made about $547,000, considerably more than SK Returns, that money went into funding the travel and stay of the fuck ton of people who came to LA for the show, renting the Ace Hotel Theatre, funding Black Friday, and of course the unfathomably expensive Wiggly plushes, which were very kindly restocked what, three or four times? because the FANS kept begging for them. and then after all of that was said and done, the company took a huge hit with the pandemic. Some of the SK returns money probably went into making Workin' Boys too! That's what happens when a global pandemic shuts down all your plans for two years!

i was also surprised to hear that space baby wasn't going straight to youtube. I had it in my mind that it was going to be something similar to Movies, Musicals, and Me. I see now that I was incorrect. It's experimental. It involves SO MANY ACTORS. and not to mention starkid has been doing the digital ticket prior to youtube release thing for YEARS. my main thing is that i would be totally totally fine with having to buy another ticket for space baby (which is only $10 by the way, less than all of their other digital tickets. not to mention it includes the talkback afterwards) if they had only clarified it just a little bit earlier. Nightmare Time 2 was announced on October 8th, 2021 and the first ticketed livestream wasn't until the 23rd. that's two weeks, a whole week longer than we got for space baby. however, im willing to understand that there probably wasn't as much time to announce things/people have been a little bit scrambled lately due to, i dunno, having to evacuate due to the raging wildfire.

unfortunately, people aren't always going to understand that making art is fucking expensive in this day and age. i hate that starkid has to keep reiterating that but it might be smoother if they had a media trained person running the socials who had a prewritten explanation of "making stuff costs money" for the people who don't get it. and then when starkid DOES do stuff for cheap they get taken advantage of. i'm still not over those fuckwads who bought meredith's beautiful handmade coasters at VHSCC and upsold them for three times as much money. the people who bootlegged the black friday digital ticket and posted it online just cause they didn't want to wait the measly 3 months it took for the show to get posted online.

being angry when the person who made the show is looking at the tumblr tag for the show because he wants to see what people are saying about the show he made comes thru to clarify some misconceptions when the tumblr tag is full of people not understanding the starkid business model that's been around since 2014 is not the move. not the move!!!

[marylight098]

꧁Blossoming Love ꧂

Summary: It was a normal day for you: tending the garden... painting... taking care of your aunt... being the healer of your village... amongst other things. That's until you find a dying kitsune close to your village pleading for your help; in a world where mythical creatures marginalized humans and humans tried their best to live hidden from them all. But you weren't just going to leave him there to die (even if you were full of fear). As always... empathy was one of the biggest weaknesses a human could have. And sadly you were one of those humans.

Rating: 🔞 mature bruh

Couple💕: Jeon Jungkook/Reader

Tags/Warnings 🚨🗯️: Fluff and Smut, Spit Kink, Hybrid Jeon Jungkook, Kitsune, Fantasy, alternate universe, Light Masochism, Dirty Talk, romantic, Animal Instincts, Past Lives, Oral Sex, Loss of Virginity, healer of the town, human and kitsune, Painter Jeon Jungkook, Painting, draw me like one of your french girls lol, Fox, Masturbation, some choking, He loves the smell of your arousal, Creampie

Word count: 15,541

Side notes: i usually write about dreams I’ve had. This is one of them. And if you see typos or something similar… english is not my first language; sorry 🤡 Im just testing the waters here… i usually post only in Ao3…. Meh hope you dont hate it lol

Pic of JK by @jkxxth1 (tiktok)

🌸

Your hometown was small; it only consisted of a few houses and a small plaza where everybody gathered to do their activities or do festivals. All of you were part of the small percentage of humans who still resided in this world full of mythical creatures; looked down upon because of your “weak useless nature”.

But the majority of you didn't care much for the opinions of the other races. You all knew you were so much more than what they had stamped on your foreheads.

You smiled to yourself as you painted the mountains on your canvas, thinking how lucky you felt to be part of these people. But that was not the only reason you were smiling right now… you were also smiling because you could hear your aunt fighting in the background with one of your chickens because it had pooped on her balcony.

You were laughing now as your aunt kept arguing with the chicken as if she could understand her. She quickly noticed, giving you a glare. But even though she was trying to be intimidating at first, she ended up giving in with a smile.

“Don't laugh, _____. This is a serious situation.”

“Yes, auntie… it's very serious that one of our chickens shat on your balcony.” You nodded and continued laughing.

She shook her head with a sigh and a smile, accepting defeat. “Could you at least bring me a bucket of water to clean it? My ankle still hurts from the fall. You would do me a great —”

“Of course, auntie.” You cut her off, giving her a reassuring smile. “No need to explain yourself; I understand.”

“Thank you, darling.” She returned the smile.

“I'll make sure to watch over your painting so the chicken doesn't leave his… “signature” on it.” She said, side-eyeing the chicken.

You laughed once more before making your way to the village’s well.

Your aunt wasn't the type to ask for favors; she always believed in being independent and doing things for her own growth as a person, and of course so she could give her all to the family and dear friends. So on rare occasions like these, you and others close to her, were always glad to help and return all that love she had always given you throughout the years.

For you, she was a role model you aspired to be.

“Great… There is a spider on the edge of the well. And it’s a big one.” You sarcastically smiled as you kept your distance; your bucket now placed on the floor as your hands rested on your hips.

Your village was in an open area where there were no trees. But around it, a forest resided and so did the well of the village… and spiders. Which was one of your biggest fears.

You didn't want to kill it. You may be scared of them but you know they are part of nature and you have to learn to live with them.

You thought of using a stick to get it off but you knew that was just going to be chaos: not knowing where it was going to run to. And you certainly didn't want it crawling up your legs or arms.

A chill ran up your spine just at the thought.

So you just decided it was best to ask someone else for help.

Grabbing your bucket, you turned around to go back to the village.

“P- Ple -ease help m-me.”

You had only taken a few steps when you heard the pleads; the voice was not recognizable to you. It was a man’s…

With your heart almost popping out of your chest, you quickly turned around to be aware of where the man was just in case you needed to defend yourself. But…

You were faced with a pale weak man whose face was covered by a fox mask and hands were placed over a wound under his ribcage, which had and was noticeably bleeding.

“A kitsune…” you spoke under your breath.

How many hours had this man been bleeding? And why hadn't he been healed? But most importantly of all: what was he doing here alone? He was a kitsune… a mythical creature that was supposed to be with his kind right now; not here which was really far away. Was he running away from someone? Was this a hoax?

“Please. I-I’m not here to— hurt you.”

He had noticed your uncertainty and alertness.

You didn't want to believe him.. you really didn't. You were scared of what could happen and the dangers you could be putting your village in. But you could see the sincerity in his eyes that stood out through the mask. Plus he was bleeding to death, what more proof could you ask for?

Dropping your bucket once more, you hurried up to him, placing his arm around your shoulders and letting him lean on you. You were struggling obviously; you weren't as strong as a man. But you could get through. And, thankfully, the village wasn't far away.

“Than—argh!— Thank y-you, madam.” He grunted as he tried not to put so much weight on you.

“Don't force yourself to talk. And you don't have to thank me; it's immoral to leave a man to their death per se.”

Plus you don't have to address me formally either. You thought to yourself.

You could tell he wanted to say more but kept quiet.

As soon as you were back at the village, you immediately began to call for help. Only a few of them came to help since others were intimidated that he was a kitsune; it was understandable. Kitsunes were known for mischief, being playful and deceiving. But you knew that was not the main reason they were intimidating. It was mostly because of their high rank amongst you living creatures; they were known also for their riches alongside other mythical creatures.

One of the villagers saw you struggling with the injured man, so he rapidly went to his other side to help you carry him. Your aunt was also one to respond, quickly going inside your house to prepare the necessary materials to help with his wound before you got there. She also prepared the large table you had for these types of emergencies to lay him on.

“Do you need anything else, ____?” Your aunt pointed at the items she had placed for you to work with.

You shook your head. “No; it’s all I need; thank you.”

She left the room quickly with the man that had helped, knowing it would be more comfortable for you and him that way. But even so, she stayed close by just in case.

Your hands began working instantly; cleaning up the area first. There were a lot of questions in your mind and they all involved the kitsune. How exactly did he end up here? Who was following him? Who or what attacked him? Who was he?

But you reserved the questions for later; making him talk in this state wasn't a very bright idea. Right now you had to focus on patching him and making him feel less pain.

Surprisingly, he wasn't flinching as much as you thought he would be; this is definitely not his first time being injured like this. Only some low grunts and furrowed eyebrows could be seen and heard.

After cleaning up, you grabbed your well-known elixir that you used for wounds like these. Us humans didn't have magic nor any special abilities. But you did have the desire to innovate and progress.

“W-what is that?” He asked, still having some difficulty breathing.

You momentarily looked up to him, eyes more visible since you are closer now. You gulped, remembering what you were treating.

You felt intimidated for a second, remembering all those tales you had heard and moments you had seen with your own eyes where creatures like him would take advantage of your people.

He noticed.

“I a-al- mm- already said, I-I’m not going to h-hurt you.” He gulped with his eyes closed as he tolerated the pain.

“Trust me…” he opened his eyes to look at you. “I would never hurt you.” He reassured you.

And, again, you could see the sincerity through his eyes so you relaxed once more.

“This… this is an elixir I made using an old recipe my village has. It’s for curing wounds like you have. But I will have to add something else for this one.”

“Why?” He asked.

“Because I can tell this was made by another kitsune by the shape of it and because it doesn't want to close. A kitsune’s main weakness will always be their own kind.” You replied.

“How… do you k-know this?”

“Because I’m the healer of my town.” You smiled at him as you opened the other elixir. “And I've treated a few like you before.”

“Like… me?” He weakly pointed at himself.

“Yes. But those were already friends or family with the village people. We don't usually allow Kitsunes here… or any other kind of creature… you know… for safety reasons.” You nervously laughed; still trying to make peace with him as if he hadn't stated enough that he is not going to hurt you.

Again, he noticed the way your eyes immediately averted to his wounds after speaking. He didn't say anything this time; he knew he'd have to instead show through actions his words. He just remained in silence as you finished with his wound; not wanting to stare at you so much to not make you nervous… even though he wanted to; the reason why he would take occasional sneaky glances.

But he couldn't watch you finish, as he soon fell asleep from exhaustion.

.

.

.

Your people were quick to ask you questions in the morning, worried about the unknown kitsune at their village; except for the few mythical creatures that resided there, since they didn't feel the right to judge. And you explained to each one of them about the situation, trying to remain calm as you did to not freak them out even more. You, yourself, were also a bit worried. But you had decided to trust and have the faith that the kitsune wouldn't take advantage of your village. His sincere eyes still hadn’t left your mind; you knew they were real; you felt it. So it was better to trust your heart rather than your anxiety.

As you finished explaining to one of the villagers, your aunt called you from the balcony of your house.

“He’s awake. And he is asking for you.” She called.

You gave your goodbyes to the villager and went rapidly to your house.

“Thanks for letting me know, auntie.” You smiled as your hand reached the door handle, but it was stopped by another familiar hand.

“You sure you’ll be alright all by yourself?” She asked with concerned eyes.

“I'll be fine, auntie. I'm still going to be careful so don't worry.”

“Ok.” She nodded, still noticeably concerned but decided to trust your words, leaving the area. But letting someone know to be attentive just in case.

As you entered, you noticed him standing as he curiously inspected the medicines on your shelf, one hand pressing on the wound.

But that was not the only thing you noticed. There were scars… old deep scars on his back. As if he had received some sort of punishment. You let it go; it was not the time, place nor situation to ask something so personal. It was not like he was going to stay for long anyway; getting close to him was unnecessary.

“Well you healed quickly.” You spoke with a smile, coming closer to him. But not too close.

“And that is thanks to you and these… potions? Are you a witch?” He asked as his eyes now laid on you.

You chuckled. “No, I'm not a witch. I'm just a plain human with very intelligent ancestors who crafted all those medicines and I happened to perfect them.”

“That’s… incredible!”

There it was again: that sincerity.

You blushed. “Thank you umm…”

“Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.”

He still had his mask on. You were so curious of what was underneath, but did not want to disrespect him so you remained silent.

“Can I check your wound?” You asked him.

“Y- yes, of course.” He replied as he snapped out of a trance. A trance you had put him on since he arrived there.

He was already shirtless so you were quick to get to the wound, removing its bandages first. As you did, you became really conscious of how close you were with this kitsune, feeling his breathing collide with your face occasionally. You were trying so hard not to touch him. But it was inevitable.

“Sorry if I'm being inappropriate.” You said nervously.

“No, not at all.”

“I don't mind.” He added.

You ignored his last comment, not wanting to think it had another meaning behind it.

He just said it casually, that’s all. You repeated in your mind.

After finishing checking his wound and adding more medicine, you patched him up once again with clean bandages.

“Ok so…” you clapped your hands together.

“Good news is, you have healed almost completely; which not only has to do with my medicines, but because you are a kitsune and kitsunes heal faster if treated properly.”

He nodded.

“Bad news is… you’ll have to stay a few days more to make sure it heals completely.” You added with a sympathetic look, knowing he probably wouldn't like the idea.

“But you don't have—“

“I'm ok with it.”

You didn't get to finish your sentence; he already had the answer as if he had been expecting your suggestion.

“Oh! Ok. Ummm… Jungkook, right?”

He nodded; sparkle in his eyes as excitement ran through his veins knowing he would get to wake up to your presence.

“You can keep resting on the couch; that will be your bed for now if you don't mind.”

“I don't.”

“Perfect then let me notify the village.”

You were about to leave when he stopped you.

“Wait! Can I come with you?” He asked.

“S-sure.” You replied, taken aback by his sudden request.

“Let me take this off first.” He added as he took off his mask.

Your lips fell apart, taking in the beauty the kitsune held as he laid the mask on the couch. It was true what the rumors said: kitsunes were born with undeniable and inexplicable beauty. But it was understandable since they were born to charm. They always got their way; it was rare to see a kitsune who wasn't able to seduce or charm their target; they had a gift.

“Don't wanna scare anyone more than they already are.” He nervously chuckled as his hand ruffled his hair.

Your curiosity had been fed. And you couldn't help but to become shy and self conscious. Being around an attractive person always makes you feel nervous.

“It’s— it's ok.” You struggled to speak for a second. “They will eventually warm up to you; we’ve had kitsunes before so don't worry so much.”

As he saw your reassuring smile, the kitsune wondered if the rumors he had heard about humans were true: that they secretly possessed the ability to enchant or seduce other creatures like himself. As time passed, more and more creatures of high rank were eloping with humans to the point where it was getting normal. Things were changing, but the hate and contempt against humans was still there. And all of you knew it was going to be hard for it to leave. But he didn't care about what other people thought; he saw all creatures as equals even if they were mortals. And right now, he was ready to risk it all for you.

You both went outside to greet the villagers; you being up front and Jungkook following behind like a puppy, trying his best to make people like him.

You introduced Jungkook to each one of the villagers, also explaining the situation and why he was going to stay a few days more. It was necessary and it was also common courtesy; it was a random stranger that had entered the village and the “cherry on the top” being that he was a kitsune. This way people could be alert for any weird movements from the kitsune.

Jungkook bowed multiple times to each one of the villagers with a “thank you” and “sorry for the inconvenience”. He had already conquered the hearts of many. Not only because of his cuteness but, of course, because of his beauty. You could tell some of your friends were already trying to flirt with him. And you just couldn't help but to shake your head at them. Of course, there were always the doubtful ones that still didn't trust him. But did not treat him badly either.

The two kitsunes we had were the quickest to bond with him, for obvious reasons.

“Nice to meet you, Jungkook. I’m Jimin and this is Hoseok.” Both bowed to him and Jungkook did the same. It was a common thing between their kind.

“Glad to see there is another kitsune as handsome as us staying here too.” Jimin said, making Hoseok roll his eyes.

“He is only staying here for a few days until he gets better.” You quickly intervened.

“Oh, ok.” Hoseok said, a little bit disappointed he wasn't staying; he could feel he wasn't a bad guy. But it was understandable to him and Jimin.

Jungkook’s expression changed as soon as you said those words and both of them saw right through their fellow kitsune. They both looked at each other, knowing all too well this situation: a kitsune falling for a human. They both had eloped with humans after all.

Well at least they hoped this was the case. They truly wanted you to be happy and being taken care of; both of them knew how devoted you were with your people. So they saw this as an opportunity for all that love to be returned to you.

After Jimin’s fanboying over Jungkook, you said your goodbyes to them and ended up in front of your house once again. But before you both entered, you remembered the painting you had left outside to dry. You needed to take it inside; chickens, pigeons and kids… they were all hazards to the painting.

“Oh! Give me a second.” You said to him.

The painting had turned out satisfying enough for you to showcase and you were proud. Even though you had some interruptions while trying to finish it… you were able to finish it on time.

Jungkook’s eyes followed you as you grabbed it and went inside the house, following behind.

“Were you the one to paint that?” He pointed, as you placed it on the table.

“Yes, I did.” You smiled, proceeding to cover up the painting with a blanket to protect it.

“Then teach me how to paint.”

You quickly turned to him, mouth falling open at his bold unexpected request.

“Pardon?”

“I want you to teach me how to paint, madam.” He said, taking a few steps closer to you.

“I… I’m no teacher, sir. And you are only staying for a couple of days.” You backed up a little.

“What if I wanted to stay longer?” His eyes sparkled.

Silence.

You had a lot of doubts at that moment. A random stranger had appeared out of nowhere and now he wanted to live there. And it's not like he seemed to not have money nor a home. You could tell that he was from a wealthy family because of his clothing.

“Why do you want to stay?” You asked.

“Just a hunch.”

“A hunch?” You repeated him, and he just nodded with a soft smile, showing one of his dimples.

Kitsunes were known to be very intuitive and spiritual, and you knew this very well. But you didn't think there was any purpose in him staying here when he clearly had it all. But you also knew that was a very ignorant thought. Still… why stay here?

A chuckle couldn't help but to escape your mouth at his absurd response. “You are a wealthy kitsune Jeon Jungkook, why would you want to stay here?”

“I may look like I don't, but I prefer simplicity over luxury.”

“And how can I trust you?”

“Give me a month and I'll prove to you and your village that I am worthy of staying here.”

You took a deep breath and exhaled, fear and worry crippling on you.

It wouldn't be fair to not give him an opportunity like the other kitsunes had. And besides… if he were to turn against you all… you not only had two kitsunes as your allies, but also a werewolf, a nymph and a fallen angel. It was a weird combination you had to admit, but a powerful one.

“I’ll talk to the village. But I do not guarantee anything.”

And his smile grew into an enthusiastic grin.

. . .

“I think we were wrong about him.” Your aunt said as you both sipped some chamomile tea on her balcony, watching the kitsune before you try to convince a kid it was time to go to bed after playing with him for hours. It was a funny sight indeed.

“It's only been a week, auntie. At least my trust isn't there yet.”

“Oh, come on. He has bonded with the village so well as if he had lived here for weeks already. People love him; he has helped with so many things.''

“I find it highly amusing how you were the most defensive about him staying here and now look at you.”

The kid had now started to run with Jungkook’s mask and he was now not only trying to get him to bed, but also trying to save his precious dignity.

You snorted out a laugh, making you cover your mouth with your hand, not being able to hold it in anymore.

“Don't come at me with that poop, darling. You like him too.”

“Poop? Seriously? And I do not like him, I only find him amusing.” You shook her head at her with a chuckle.

“You know I do not curse… and you do like him; just with the smile you're making at him right now… it says it all. Maybe… even more than a friend.” She sipped the tea right after.

You choked on your tea. “I do not— cough like him like— cough that.” Eyes watering.

She just shook her head at you knowingly; your reaction was enough for her. You weren't the type to get flustered easily. “Enough with the lying and go get me some apples so we can bake that big apple-pie for tomorrow’s showcase.”

“But I'm comfy right now.” You whined.

“And you are younger than me, so get going. Just ask Jungkook to accompany you like you always do when you are scared of finding spiders.”

“Hey! I can happily go alone.”

“Yeah, and the Earth is flat. Go on now, I'll be waiting inside.” She said, standing up and going inside as said with both of your teacups.

“Ugh!”

Reality was that you did want Jungkook to accompany you. Not only because of the spiders but because you actually liked his company as much as you hated to admit. He was funny, intelligent, caring, sensitive…

What the hell am I even thinking? Remember _____, he is a kitsune and they have the ability to charm; snap out of it.

Still, it wasn't that bad to indulge in those wants… right?

“Kai! Give him the mask back!” You scolded the child.

The kid immediately stopped running and stood straight as a stick, quickly handing the mask to Jungkook.

“Apologize and go to your mother’s house.”

“But I don't wanna go to sleep! The sun is still out.” The kid whined.

“It’s setting down already so you need to go get ready for bed; mother’s rules.”

The kid whined one last time, apologized and left for his house.

“Thanks for that. That was nice of you.” He cleared his throat. “… and hot.” That last part wasn't heard by you.

“Accompany me to the apple trees and we will call it even.”

“Scared of the spiders again?” Jungkook laughed.

You began mocking his laugh. “And do you wanna talk about how a kid took your mask and you couldn't get it back?

His laughter immediately toned down. “Hey! I almost had it in my hands again!”

“Yeah, right.” You started laughing again, remembering the scene.

“Have a nice time with the spiders then.” He smiled knowingly, turning his back at you as he began to walk away.

“Nooo!” You exclaimed at him, grabbing his arm.

You didn't see it. But he was smirking while he had his back turned to you. He liked knowing that you needed him. He wished you needed him more; In all types of ways.

Where the trees resided, wasn't so far away. But it did take a bit to get there. And since the night was starting to set in, you had a little more difficulty seeing even though you brought a lamp with you.

Jungkook on the other hand didn't have any problem with it since he could see at night, he was a fox after all. For that reason he didn't take his eyes off of you, worrying you might fall. But you didn't gladly. Even though he wanted an excuse to touch you.

There were already some lamps surrounding the trees and other crops since sometimes our people needed crops during the night for emergencies or just random hunger.

You quickly began to work using a ladder to lower the apples as Jungkook stayed on the ground waiting for you to throw him the apples so he could put them in the basket. At one point an apple fell on Jungkook’s head and you couldn't help but to laugh at him as he looked at you annoyed. But at the end he couldn't resist laughing too.

After you finished, you decided to take a break close to the nearby pond, drinking some water while you were at it. But Jungkook had other plans, he wanted to take revenge because of the apple on his head.

“Oh my god, _____! There is a big spider crawling on you!” He shouted.

You gasped. “What?! Where?!”

You quickly stood up trying to shake off whatever you had on you. But then you heard Jungkook laughing so loud, tears were forming in his eyes. And that's when it clicked.

“You ass—-” But your words got cut off as you tripped on a heavy branch and fell on your knees.

“Shit, _____. Are you ok?!” Jungkook’s laugh immediately stopped, quickly going towards you to help and check on you.

You sat on the ground and you raised your skirt up till you saw the knee that was hurting. And that's when both of you noticed you were bleeding.

“Fuck. I-I’m sorry, _____. Let me cure you.” he quickly grabbed your knee regretting ever scaring you like that.

Your anger had toned down; now you were more embarrassed than angry.

“I’ll cure myself at home, it’s ok.”

“That’s nonsense when I can just save you some pain by using my powers.”

“Powers?” You tilted your head to the side with a thoughtful look on your face, not remembering anything about kitsunes being able to heal. But, again, you only knew the basics.

“Here, I'll show you.” He said as he carefully straightened your leg for you to be more comfortable.

One of his hands went on top of your wound, being careful not to touch it, while his other hand rested on the backside of your knee. And a blue light began emerging from his hand to your wound.

“It will take a minute or two, so bear with me.” he said as he focused on your knee.

Gladly you didn't feel any pain. But the adrenaline from the scare and the fall began to dissipate and you were now conscious of where he was touching. You didn't want to think of it as anything else so talking was the best option to distract yourself from your body’s reaction.

“You know your little prank is going to cost you an art lesson, right?”

“Oh, come on. I’m healing you. I’m making up for my sin.”

“Pffft.” You laughed. “Don't say it like that, it wasn't that bad.”

“Well I am trying to convince you not to take an art lesson from our week.”

“I don't know why you want them so badly. You already know how to paint. Besides, you never pay attention to my lessons; you…always… stare at my face. I don't know why.” You chuckled nervously. Recalling all the moments he would drift his attention from his canvas to you, making you feel insecure. You kind of wanted an explanation of why he did that so maybe you would stop feeling so self conscious at your lessons.

His eyes lifted up to you for a moment, as if he wanted to say something, but went back to your knee. “I… still need work and you know it.”

“True.” You responded, feeling even more insecure since he didn't comment on the “staring”.

The atmosphere had turned serious and you could feel it, mainly from him. You felt a little bit awkward because of it.

“Done.” The blue light faded and the wound had disappeared; you were completely amazed by it.

“That is amazing. I didn't know kitsunes could do that.” You said, staring at your now healed wound.

But Jungkook didn't say anything back nor did he take his hand or eyes off of your knee; you noticed quickly.

“Jungkook?” You questioned him, nervous you had said something wrong.

His eyes were trailing now to your still covered thighs as his thumb caressed where the wound used to be. And you could feel your heartbeat starting to accelerate.

Your skirt was now being lifted up centimeter by centimeter, slowly and steadily; thigh becoming bare to him before your eyes.

A broken gasp came out of your lips as his hand went up, making him look up at you. Both of you know staring into each other's eyes. The coldness of the night being ignored by your lustful warm body. Your leg was now fully exposed to him to do as he pleased. He didn't stop looking at you as his hand went up and down your thigh with a firm grasp, teasing you; getting dangerously close to your slit with some strokes.

“You still don't get it, huh?”

His head lowered to your inner thigh and began sucking on the skin.

“Fuck…” You said under your breath.

This feeling was new to you; you had never been with a man despising occasional confessions. Yes you had touched yourself, but this was different. You felt your chest fill with an overwhelming lust and slit starting to ache.

After leaving a noticeable red spot, he began kissing the rest of your thigh, momentarily licking a stripe from your knee to your upper thigh and rubbing his forehead against it, ending with a soft bite. After doing so, his eyes returned to yours.

“I stare at you because I think you are beautiful.”

“Not only because of your body but because of who you are.”

“I want to be around you every minute of the day.”

His hand was now stagnant as it laid dangerously close to your slit once more. “Be mine, ______.”

Be mine. You repeated in your head. And that's when you snapped out of it. You remembered they had the gift to get anything they wanted and for you this was an attempt to do so. So you immediately pulled your leg off of his grasp, leaving him with a confused look.

“I-I can’t.” You shook your head scared.

“What?” his eyes were now full of preoccupation as he saw you stand up and walk away from him.

“_____! Wait!” He said as he stood up and grabbed the basket with apples. But you began running, not wanting him close to you as you were scared of him and yourself.

He also began to run towards you calling out to you. He could easily outrun you but he decided to not overwhelm you and just call you from afar.

You continued running despising his calls, eyes blurry from the tears, confused on what to feel or do. It felt like an eternity running, even though it wasn't. That's until you collided with another body, you were going to back away immediately thinking it was him again. But when you were about to run away, the body held you still forcing you to look up and that's when you calmed down a bit.

“____! Are you ok?!” Jimin asked worriedly.

“I… I don't know.”

As Jimin lifted his gaze up to see what you were running from, he saw Jungkook. He was going to confront him until he noticed he was equally as confused. So he decided it was best to leave it like that until he heard you talk.

“Let’s go to my house, Erika is there too so you can talk to us.”

Hearing one of your best friend’s name gave you another reason to calm down.

You nodded.

Before taking you to his house, he gave Jungkook one last look. And he could tell he was worried and at the same time scared. And that gave him the confirmation he needed to wait it out.

As soon as Erika saw you entering through the door, her expression changed.

“____, is everything ok? Did something happen?” she worried as she guided you to the living room’s sofa for you to sit and relax.

“Darling, please bring me a glass of water for her.” She told Jimin and he instantly went to the kitchen to prepare one.

“Please tell me what happened, _____. Don’t leave me worried like sometimes you do. Give me the opportunity to help you once in a while.” Erika said, hand resting on your shoulder.

She knew you very well, how sometimes you would hold onto things to not bother anyone.

Jimin returned with the glass of water and gave it to you.

You drank up a little bit before pondering over what to say. But in the end you concluded it was best to open up to them. One, because you didn't want them to think they were untrustworthy to you. And second, because your best friend was married to a kitsune. And what could be better than advice from a kitsune, himself, and his wife on this situation?

“Erika… Jimin… how– how do you know when a kitsune is mind controlling you?” A mixture of worry and shyness was evident on you, so your eyes stuck to the glass of water to hide them.

But silence was your response. And anxiety was quick to show up.

Is the situation worse than I thought? Did they already realize who I'm talking about? Did I offend Jimin and their relationship? Was I wrong?

Your mind was spiraling with questions. That’s until you decided to look up and face them. And instead of anger or worry, you were greeted with a Jimin who was trying his best to hold his laughter in. But in the end failed.

And all that could be heard was his laughter.

“Welp… prepared to be bullied for the rest of your life.” Erika said to you.

“What?” You were dumbfounded and confused. You just wanted him to finish laughing so you could finally hear his answer.

“Pfffft, it's that what you think we do?” He just continued laughing.

“Jimin, I'm serious. Please answer me.” You grew impatient.

He calmed himself down, whipping tears off of his face. “Fine, fine. I'll calm down now.”

He sat to the opposite side of you; now you were in between them.

“Look _____, I don't know from where you got that information but it's incorrect. Kitsunes do possess the ability to charm but it's because of their natural beauty and art of seduction. It comes natural to us. And it doesn't always work on everybody. Erika… She would be an example. Remember? She was a pain in the ass to conquer.” He rolled his eyes at her.

“What can I say? I just don't give up this piece of ass that easily.” She shrugged and Jimin just shook his head at her.

Red… you were completely red from embarrassment. All this time you were only listening to assumptions from other people and anxiety instead of doing actual research. Like for fuck’s sake you had two kitsunes as you friends. But you just felt embarrassed to ask. Even so, the result was the same: embarrassment. You had learned your lesson.

“Hey… does that mean you never trusted me and Hoseok?” His eyes went into shock mode. As he slowly realized that maybe you never even considered him or Hoseok a friend.

“N-n-no… w-well—-“

“I’m hurt right now.” Jimin said standing up with a pout that was more adorable than intimidating.

“Listen to me! It was only at the beginning but as I got to know you guys I began to trust you with time. And seeing how Erika and Delilah took time to be in a relationship with you guys, then I thought: hey, they are actually trustworthy; they didn't use their powers to make them fall in love.”

“Do you understand what I'm trying to say?” You added.

“Next time just ask us, please. I know us mythical creatures have a bad reputation among humans, but I can assure you, not all of us are snob assholes.” Jimin replied and you just nodded, not able to look him in the eye from the lingering embarrassment.

“Remember, we don't bite.” Jimin’s gaze landed on his wife: Erika. “Unless you want us too.” He winked.

“You are cringe.” Erika replied to his not so subtle innuendo, making you laugh for a moment.

“I agree." An unexpected, but all too familiar voice spoke. All eyes were now on one of the open windows that looked to the balcony where a Hoseok now stood resting his body on the edge of it.

“What the fuck? You were eavesdropping?!” Jimin exclaimed.

“Yes, but that's because I saw the whole thing and got worried.”

“Wait… who else saw what happened?” You quickly asked as embarrassment began to cripple on you once more. You only remember running until you collided with Jimin. But you didn't pay much attention to your surroundings.

“Who cares? What you should be worrying about is how you are going to repay me for defamation and violation of the friend code. Try making me noodles for a week and then maybe I'll forgive you.” Hoseok said.

“Oh! I want too!” Jimin added.

“You guys are asses.” Erika shook her head but then turned her attention to you while the two men planned on how to bother you for the next week.

You had gone into deep thought, analyzing yourself and trying to decipher your feelings towards him. If he wasn't “charming” you, then…

“Do you… do you like him, ____?” Erika read your mind.

Your best friend had deciphered the situation better than you; of course, she was your best friend after all. But…

“I don't know.” you responded as you got up.

“Thank you…for everything…I have to do something now. I’ll see you later! Thank you again!” you said as you rushed out of the door.

“Where are you going-?” You heard Jimin’s faint voice just before you closed the door behind you.

You didn't answer, you just wanted to get to your destination which was anywhere where Jungkook was right now. All you wanted was to apologize even though you still felt ashamed for your previous thoughts.

Your feelings were unsure. But you were sure about one thing: you wanted him to know you were sorry and that things were ok between the both of you.

How do I really feel? The question persisted in your head as you stopped half away, pondering on it, but your feet picked up speed again down the path.

No, I had to see him, I didn’t have a plan of action but I felt after seeing him it will make sense.

Nearby you saw your aunt with the basket of apples heading to her house, which meant Jungkook had been with her. So you immediately went to her and asked if she knew where he had headed, but she also didn't know.

She caught up quickly to the situation, asking you. “What happened between the both of you?”

“N-nothing.” You brushed off as you turned away and left to keep searching for him, ears blocking out your aunt's voice.

You went to your house and searched other parts of the village but he was nowhere to be found. Anxiety had started to creep in and cloud your mind with the possibility that he had left or something had happened to him.

Taking a deep breath in, you continued down the path to the nearby onsen the villagers sometimes visit but at this time most people would be in their homes, it was actually mainly you roaming this path tonight like a suspicious person. But you needed to take a break and calm yourself.

You pushed the bushes away from your face as you peaked at the back entrance of the onsen, the sight took your breath away and stopped your heart momentarily. The sun was setting, painting the sky with warm colors, the smoke from the onsen rising into the air and into the last rays of the sun, gold tinting the onsen and the shirtless man drying his damped hair after he had taken his bath. It was Jungkook, although there was no one else in sight he was wearing his kitsune mask; his hair was in a half up do and his bottom hair was still wet. His torso was still bare; he only had placed a towel around his neck as he gazed at the moon. You could sense the sadness, even though you couldn’t see his expression. He whistled a sad melody, the sight appeared almost like a kitsune crying out to the moon for it to come out.

The shame had returned, killing your determination and making you unsure if to approach him or just leave. But the universe had other plans. Because as the thoughts ran through your mind, something else ran over your hands from holding the bushes, and of course, it was a spider.

You immediately shrieked at the spider, rapidly moving your hand to shake it off. After successfully shaking it off, you noticed the whistling came to a halt and your eyes locked on Jungkook who was now staring your way, so much for stealth.

You needed his mask more than him, to hide from the embarrassment.

Trying not to show embarrassment and reveal your racing heart as you neared him around the onsen.

“...I’ve been looking for you.” You mumbled, not fully being able to look at him fully just yet.

“Are you ok, though?” He stood up and went to you, examining the hand where the unwanted visitor had been.

You nodded and he relaxed.

“It was a spider, wasn't it?”

“Yeah…” you chuckled nervously.

He laughed but his expression dimmed as he remembered. So he backed up and went to sit in one of the benches and took his mask off putting it to the side.

“You ran away from me, I didn't think you’d be looking for me.” He said quietly.

“I know...” You replied quietly too.

“You can sit if you want.” He offered.

You thanked him and sat next to him. Your eyes couldn't stop themselves as they slightly glanced at his body, you had seen it many times before but why was it suddenly making you feel this way, as if you shouldn’t look but also can’t look away. You watched one drop of water slowly making its way down from his chest to his abs.

“It’s pretty, isn't?” he said as he looked at the moon that glanced at you both and the now hidden sun. 

“Mhm…” Is all you replied as you secretly referred to his body.

“-about earlier..” He started, startling you out of your intrusive thoughts, making you blush even more.

“Ah..uh..um yes…” You stuttered.

There was a pause.

“I’m sorry.” You both spurted out at the same time. You looked at each other for a second until you both chuckled.

“You don't need to be sorry; I was the one who made you feel uncomfortable.” He smiled as he gazed at the water.

“You… you didn't make me feel uncomfortable. On the contrary… I…” You bit your lower lip as you blushed trying to finish the sentence.

“You liked it?” he finished for you; his eyes searching yours hopeful as yours shied away.

You nodded, staring at your fingers, not being able to look at him; taking advantage of the hair that fell on the side of your face so he couldn't see you blushing.

He bit his lower lip to keep his pleased smile from showing, gaze going to your legs, tempted to continue what he left unfinished earlier. But held himself back, not wanting to scare you again. So he looked away, taking a deep breath to compose himself as his grip on the edge of the bench tightened.

“I owe you an apology, Jungkook. I got scared because of ignorant beliefs.” You continued.

“Can I ask what those were?”

“I…I… thought you were hypnotizing me or…something.”

“Well that’s a compliment.” he smirked.

“Idiot.” you pushed him to the side playfully as he laughed. “I’m just happy I have other kitsunes in my life to explain stuff like this to me.”

“I’m also glad. Because if you didn't, I would've probably lost you after that.” he pushed the strand of hair that had been hiding you from him, behind your ear.

“No… I would've still come to you.” You chuckled. “You are too special to me to lose.”

Oh, how much he wanted to kiss you, but couldn't; not yet.

Your gaze then landed on his mask. “Why were you wearing your mask again? If I may ask?”

“I have a tendency to hide my face when I feel ashamed or angry.” He chuckles a little bit embarrassed. “I guess I use it to hide… my feelings and myself.” He said quietly.

You nodded in understanding; knowing the situation all too well; on your occasion, it was painting that helped you vent those emotions, turning them into something only you understood the entirety of.

“May I look at it?” You asked and he nodded, giving it to you.

You traced your fingers delicately on every feature of the mask; it was as beautiful as him.

“May I put it on?” You asked and he complied once again, never wanting to say no to you. But also because he was curious.

Placing the mask on your face you could smell his scent which made you very pleased.

You giggled. “I like it.” You looked at him, seeing he was smiling at you fondly and intrigued by you. Butterflies filled your stomach and thanked the mask for hiding your blush.

Not knowing how to deal with the emotions, you took off with the mask to tease him and avoid your feelings. “Now it’s mine!” You shouted as you giggled maliciously while running as fast as you can through the trees.

It took him a few seconds to react, not expecting at all what just happened. He wasn't surprised though, as he knew sometimes you could pass as a kitsune because of how naughty you were, especially with him and he liked that the most.

He followed behind you, not even caring to use his powers to outrun you as he was enjoying the chase and hearing you laugh.

But your running was brought to a halt as you encountered a nearby pond you had forgotten about and almost fell into it.

“Shit.” You cursed to yourself. You were about to take another route when a pair of arms grabbed you by the waist from behind abruptly, stopping you.

“Caught you! I won!” He exclaimed happily as he tried to take his mask back but you wouldn't let him.

All that could be heard was the sound of laughter as you both wrestled for the mask. At one point you lost balance and almost fell on your knees, but this time Jungkook softened the fall by holding you tightly, not wanting you to get hurt like last time.

You were about to stand up again but he went on top of you, trapping you.

The atmosphere had changed in a matter of seconds.

“I said… I won.” His voice turned suddenly low, his eyes turning lustful as they bore into you, loving the way you looked underneath him. “Now what do I get in return besides my mask, madam? Surely there must be more prizes for the winner… or does the winner get to choose? Because if so… the winner has a few things in mind already.” His eyes then went to your lips, casually licking his own.

You were flabbergasted by the situation and not in a bad way. Your eyes also went to his lips, but since you were shy, you took the mask and placed it on his face and gave him a kiss on what supposedly was his lips instead and chuckled afterwards oblivious to the tremendous effect it had on him.

“There… that was your—-“

Your mouth couldn't finish the sentence as his lips went for yours immediately after taking his mask off.

The kiss was heavenly for you. It was your first kiss so it was a little bit hard to keep with his needy experienced lips. But, even so, you found your way to reciprocate his kiss and feelings; it was something you wanted as much as he did.

You whimpered softly on his lips, making him stop and rest his forehead on yours with his eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed with his jaw clenched.

He took a deep breath and exhaled, relaxing himself. “You make me go insane, ______. You know that?”

Still on cloud 9 you just proceeded to caress his cheek and scalp. There was a brief moment of silence as he enjoyed your caresses.

“I have something for you, _____.” He broke the silence.

“And what would that be, sir Jungkook?” you playfully responded.

He laid beside you, facing you. Your eyes then went to his hand that was in a fist, blue light grabbing your attention as it went through the open spaces. Once the light vanished, his hand then opened, revealing a necklace with a little crystal jar as a pendant.

“What is that?” you asked.

“_____… I chose you as my mate.”

You sat up as soon as he said those words. You knew what that meant. It meant he couldn't be with anybody else after this, only you. Every tribe of kitsunes had their own ritual to choose a mate; you didn't know what his tribe’s ritual was but all you knew was that you were irritated by it. You never liked the idea of marrying an immortal to later leave alone to suffer for an eternity. It's not that you didn't agree with those types of relationships but it's just something you didn't want for yourself. You knew you were going to be constantly worrying about the future. Hence why you always admired Erika’s relationship by how fearless and in the moment they were.

“Jungkook, why would you do that?!”

“You already know the answer: because I fell for you, _____… and hard.” He sat up too, surprisingly calm to your reaction.

“Are you crazy?! I’m a mortal; I don't even last one century! You shouldn't have done that!” You were now standing.

Tears accumulated in your eyes, making your vision blurry. It was a reaction that even for you was unexpected; it made you realize how much you cared for him.

“What if I don't love you back, huh?! And what if I die tomorrow? What are you going to do then?!”

The tears were falling freely now. But they were interrupted by the pass of his caress.

“I already know the consequences, _____. And I don’t mind facing them.” He laid a kiss on your cheek, calming you.

“How… how are you not scared?” You hiccupped, wiping your tears away.

“Because my heart is where it belongs. And I knew from day one that you were my person; I could sense it as if… I had met you in another life; and I wasn't in the wrong.” He calmly assured you with a smile. “Now hold your hair up.”

You hesitated a bit but complied.

“This signifies my commitment to you; I want to marry you, _____.” Jungkook explained as he went behind you and placed the necklace on your neck.

“Jungkook, I don't think I'm there yet.” You shook your head and eyes began to water again; scared. But he continued clasping your necklace.

“The jar contains seven flowers. Each time you experience romantic love for me, one will bloom. Once the 7th has bloomed, that means you have fallen deeply in love with me and that’s when I'll marry you. In other words: I’ll wait for you.” He continued to clean your tears. “And even if they never bloom, and you want someone else… it will be ok. I’m not gonna lie to you, it will hurt.” He chuckled. “But knowing I'll still have you as a friend, would be enough for me.”

You couldn't understand how he was so sure after spending such a short period of time with you. You were scared for him; you didn't want him to live an unhappy life because of you and his decision.

But… At the same time, your heart couldn't resist feeling overjoyed at his words and the thought of spending the rest of your life with him.

Your hands then went to the pendant to examine it. It had flowers inside of it, seven different types of flowers about to bloom. You found it incredible how small they were; it was like a miniature garden inside of the jar.

“Can this be undone, the mate thing is only if i wear it, right?” You spoke more calmly now.

She is so cute. He thought to himself, chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, hugging tightly.

“You know... I have many things I love about you, but you worrying about us and our future, just drawns me even more." He smiled. " And no, it can't be undone because the necklace was made specifically for you; I've already committed to you to my creator: Inari.”

“Please ____, stop worrying. I've lived long enough to know that you are the only one for me. I’m going to be ok regardless; I just wanted you to know that my heart belongs to you.” He added.

You took a deep breath and exhaled, closing your eyes as your head rested on his chest; hearing his literal heart beat. You were overwhelmed and scared but you knew it was just anxiety talking. He was determined and you needed to remind yourself that he had lived centuries before you; that he had lived almost through every trial in life and that he was mature and wise enough to make this decision. You also reminded yourself that as long as you had each other, it was all going to be fine. And that living in the moment is what truly matters.

“Let’s go back before my aunt sends Jimin or Hoseok to find me; she knew something was off when I last talked to her.” You broke from his embrace. “…Or worse… Yoongi.”

“Who is Yoongi?” Jungkook asked, amused by your reaction to his name.

“He is a fallen angel and he is scary when he is mad.” You said as you walked the path back to the village, Jungkook followed behind.

“Why? He gets violent?” He asked, concerned.

“No! Not at all! He is just very strict. But let me tell you… he is very sweet under that hard shell he has and makes the best apple pie in the village… don’t tell my aunt I said that, please.” You said making him chuckle.

“Is it that good?” he asked, intertwining his hand with yours.

“Oh, yes! Wait till you try it! Yoongi has made it for me since I was little.” You squealed in excitement.

“Is that so?” he asked, intrigued but also in a trance with your beauty, like always.

And so the conversation continued to the village, without you realizing a flower had already bloomed: a Larch.

. . .

Everything was under a different light now. Every gesture, action and affectionate words were now felt differently. The feelings of love you neglected of him were now finally showing their colors, blossoming into something beautiful just like the flowers that rested on your neck.

Seven flowers… And one had already bloomed.

The second one, a Rumex, bloomed as his hand caressed your hair, both laying on your bed while he told you various stories from his childhood; one of them being how he had learned how to paint; and the others just showed you how naughty he was of a fox when a kid. All so you could fall asleep during the raging thunderstorm.

The third flower, a Spirea, bloomed when he told you how beautiful you were as you focused on your painting.

The fourth flower, a Buttercup, slowly bloomed as you both splashed each other with water in the nearby river and later on played hide and seek with the kids from your village; laughter and joy not seeming to cease.

The fifth flower, a Clematis, bloomed after reconciling on your first fight; making you understand that love isn't always perfect and that was ok. Because if the love is truthful, it is always bound to prevail over any circumstance or pride. That's what makes it so beautiful.

The sixth flower, a Sweershrub, bloomed when you saw him help an elder of the village to find and pick her favorite flowers for her balcony. Later on, bringing one for you too; one that he had found and had “thought of you” as he admired it.

The seventh flower… the last one… had bloomed as your hands cupped his cheeks and eyes went to his lips right after you had hugged him because he had finally shown you the painting he had been making; a painting where he had drawn you so beautifully as you concentrated on your own painting; it was so detailed and colorful, full of love… you just wanted to kiss him at that moment. But timidity overshadowed the courage to do so once again. And he himself had to restrict himself from kissing you as he knew very well that that kiss was just going to be fuel to the fire, and his body wasn't going to be able to be stopped from taking what it had been wanting. So he gently removed your hands and gave them soft kisses; apologizing before leaving you alone, wanting more from him; for him to love you.

“A tiger lily…” You stared at your reflection on the mirror of the vanity table, holding the pendant.

You sat there, amazed how all of them had bloomed so quickly. You also debated on when to tell him; for you it was a little bit embarrassing that your feelings were out there like that physically. For that reason you didn't always have it on your neck; sometimes it was in your pockets or as a bracelet. Although… he never paid much attention to it; he was more focused on just being with you. You did sometimes catch him looking but he would immediately look away. As if he reminded himself to not put pressure on you and just be happy that you were together even as friends.

There was a knock at the door, startling you since it was in the middle of the night. But then you remembered that Jungkook usually likes to sleep over. So you wrapped a blanket around you, not wanting your exposed skin to be seen, and went to the door to open it; revealing what you were already expecting: a smiling Jungkook with a pillow under his arm.

“I should start charging you for the overnight stays.” You joked as you walked towards the kitchen leaving him to close the door.

“But you won't because you like me being here.” He teased back as he entered, following you.

“Well maybe I don't; you always leave a mess on the couch.”

“But you enjoy my breakfasts so you won't kick me out. And I don't always leave a mess, madam.” He smiled.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Not after the over-salted eggs you gave me last time.”

“Hey! It was an accident.” He immediately started tickling your belly as punishment, making you laugh hysterically. You tried to escape his grasp but he held you from behind to not let you escape.

“Jungkook stop! I’m going to pee myself.” You laughed as your eyes watered; he grew weak as he began laughing at your comment and you took the opportunity to escape, and in that attempt to push him off, your blanket fell off, leaving you only on your satin nightgown that exposed your breasts through the fabric while a strap fell off your shoulder, making it worse for you.

As soon as your skin came in contact with the cold breeze, you realized what had just happened and gasped, backing away a bit, lifting the nightgown strap back up. You quickly looked at him, embarrassed. And you saw how his eyes had just finished scanning your body, going from your perked up breasts to your face. You couldn't take any longer the insecurities so you went to grab the blanket to cover yourself up again. But as you pulled the piece of fabric, something interfered: Jungkook's foot, stepping on it.

You stepped back, letting the blanket fall, looking at him with an arm around your breasts as you tried to decipher what he was thinking.

If a needle were to fall, it would be heard; silence and tension was all there was. But not a bad kind of tension…

He walked to you, taking extra steps as you instinctively stepped back, colliding with the kitchen counter. Even though you wanted him, it was your first time and it was instinct to hide yourself.

He removed your arm that covered your breasts, exposing them to him again. You hesitated a bit.

“Let me see you.” He stated.

Your eyes were glued to his lustful gaze on your breasts; his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he tried to restrain himself.

Softly he grazed your neck moving to your collarbone… finally landing on your breast, grasping it firmly; and without warning, his mouth went to your bud and began savoring it, despising the fabric that was in between. Your gasp was followed by a moan and slight twitch of your body as pleasure was felt.

Hearing you moan made his movements more passionate and rough, switching between breasts. He wanted to see and hear more. His sucks were loud and licks were lewd; flicking your exposed nipples and nibbling on them occasionally; all while he massaged your breasts aggressively.

As your lips parted from pleasure, he took the opportunity to collide his mouth with yours as your lips looked too pretty like that to pass the invitation. His hand then traveled from your breast to your neck where the necklace resided. And as soon as his hand brushed the chain, that's when he remembered.

His jaw clenched as he forced himself to remove his lips from yours, It took him every ounce of self restraint to complete that task. But went through it successfully, making you whimper softly from frustration at the loss of his sweet sinful mouth.

He rested his forehead on yours with eyes closed and untamed breaths as he tried to control the animal inside of him that only wanted to claim you before anybody else could.

“It was a mistake for me to come here. And I should stop coming over; it's dangerous for me and for you; I apologize.” He states due to the fact that it was getting harder for him to hold himself back, before stepping away and going towards the door at a fast pace.

“The flowers bloomed, Jungkook.” You made him stop on his tracks.

You wanted this too.

“What?” He asked, not because he didn't understand you, but because he couldn't believe it for a moment.

“All the flowers bloomed… yesterday, the last one blossomed; I noticed it today.” You smiled, excited but nervous at the same time.

He went back to you and picked the pendant, seeing every flower grown and colorful.

He smiled and lightly chuckled, placing his forehead on yours and hands on the counter behind you trapping you, relieved he no longer had to hold himself together when he was around you.

His fingers now held your chin, making you look at him. “You don't know how fucking hard was it to hold back and not fuck you like you are meant to be fucked, _____.” He said so casually; eyes physically changing and a pair of fangs now visible.

You weren't surprised by his choice of words since you knew how they behaved when they were in heat or just needy; sadly you know about this because you had to hear your friend, Erika, talk to you about her and Jimin’s sex life occasionally; more specifically when she had an “amazing night”; you always had to shut her up mid speech before you puked. But at least it helped you get to know a little better how kitsunes worked, or any other hybrid that was part animal.

His eyes… You thought to yourself as their pupil was now slit. Just like a fox.

“Beautiful…” You thought out loud, boring into his eyes; finally being able to see part of his fox side.

And that was enough to send him off edge.

“This nightgown doesn't hold any sentimental value to you, correct?” He asked.

“No, why—“

You gasped as one of his now exposed claws had cut through the middle of the night gown, ripping off the rest with his hands and pushing off the straps from your shoulders and throwing the gown to a side. You were now fully exposed to him. To you, it felt so weird to be naked in front of a man and you also felt self conscious. But the man that was in front of you was one that you deeply loved and trusted your body with; you wanted to give him all of you and you were ready to face and overcome your insecurities with him.

Your arms went to your breasts, but he was quick to remove your arms and place them on your sides, whispering to your ear, “Stop doing that or I'll tie your arms.”

He began tracing his fingers slowly starting from your hip’s stretch marks to the curve of your waist, passing your aroused nipple (making you shiver); ending on your neck followed by grasping it.

“Beautiful.” He repeated your words. “Just like imagined.”

You blushed once more; asking yourself if he had touched himself to the thought of you; the thought alone made you even wetter and wanting to hear more of what he wanted to do to you. Oh, how dirty you felt.

So the words came out of your mouth intrusively, “What else do you imagine?”

He was also taken back by your sudden loss of shyness. But reality was that, you were still scared. Nevertheless, you wanted him even so.

“Do you really want to know, darling?” The grip on your neck tightened, playing with his prey.

“Ye-es.” You almost moaned, loving his hand over your neck.

His mouth attacked yours desperately, connecting your tongues. The hand that held your throat, now positioning your head for easier access; his other hand pushed your crotch towards his so he could grind himself on you and get some relief from his aching cock.

“Go to the couch.” He broke the kiss, his loud pants overshadowing yours.

He had so much control over you; you complied so quickly. Yet, what you didn't know was the amount of control you had over him. Not only because of the smell of your arousal or your naked body, but because of the way you looked at him as if you were high on him; it was driving him nuts. He wanted to be gentle with you… oh how he wanted to. But you just made it so difficult for him… always.

Your living room had two sofas on either side of your wooden coffee table; facing each other.

He followed behind, eye-fucking your ass. He also grabbed the nearest canvas and some paints and pencils, making you curious of what he was going to do.

You stood awkwardly in front of one, waiting for him to give you instructions.

“You do not get to be shy now after you asked me what I think of when I touch myself.” He softly chuckled.

“D-don’t be an ass.” You retorted; somehow enjoying that you could still tease each other even during sex.

He chuckled again. But his expression went back to the previous one: fox eyes full of raging lust. It was like two different people.

An easel was already in front of one of the sofas since you had decided this morning to paint an idea that had come to mind… so it made it easier for him.

He placed the canvas on the easel followed by the words, “Sit.” And you complied.

He was on the other couch facing you as he grabbed a pencil.

Is he… is he going to draw me naked? You thought to yourself, only to be answered afterwards as if he had heard you.

“You asked me what I thought when I touched myself… then I’m going to show you; don't know how much self control I'll have, though.” He said sincerely as he took out his cock out of his lower attire.

You loved the way it looked with cum already dripping from the tip.

“I’m going to paint you bare before me while I touch myself.” He said, already beginning to stroke his cock, breaths of air longer and broken. “And I don't want you touching yourself, do you understand?”

You nodded, rubbing your thighs together, needing some kind of friction.

“But you are going to spread your legs.”

This is going to be hard for me to not touch myself. You thought.

And slowly, and a bit embarrassed, you exposed to him your dripping cunt.

He swallowed hard, thinking to himself that this was going to be harder than he thought. But he still wanted to show you how fucked up you made him all the time. Plus he was enjoying the anticipation before he fucked you like he wanted to.

His other hand gripped hard on the pencil as he began to draw you. He began doing the basics of the painting… your face… the form of your body… and then began adding some details. But the truth is, the drawing was sloppy since he was enjoying more tracing your body with his own eyes; admiring it; memorizing it and plotting ways he was going to fuck you. All while he was stroking himself, squeezing his balls occasionally.

He looked so beautiful: eyebrows furrowed and mouth opened as he cursed and breathed heavily while giving himself pleasure. You wanted to touch yourself so badly…

“Spread the lips of your cunt for me.” He panted. “I wanna see your hole begging for my cock.”

For you that was even more torture since you just wanted to rub your clit or have him touch you or be inside you. But you did it anyway, making him hiss and grunt as his hips thrusted forward instinctively as he saw how it was pulsating from need.

“Fuck.” He clenched his jaw.

The painting was long gone, abandoned. And all that could be heard was the sound of his moans/grunts and hand stroking himself.

This was too much for you, seeing him like that… and your slit aching for him… your fingers just slipped inside you without you noticing as you looked at him touching himself to you.

“Jungkook...” You whimpered as you closed your eyes for a second, focusing on the feeling; your other hand now touching your breast.

The crash of the easel, canvas and pencil with the floor made you open your eyes again. Jungkook had pushed it to the floor and was now moving towards you.

He pushed your back to the couch and held your legs while he aligned himself on your entrance, spitting on his cock to use as additional lube.

“Jungk—-“ you were going to protest because he was going too fast but it was already too late. His cock was already inside of you, pounding you hard.

“Shit!” You yelped as your eyes watered from the sting.

“I wont be gentle, _____.” He grunted as he pounded into you. “But I’m going to make you feel good, I promise.”

It felt so different from your fingers for obvious reasons. There was a mixture of pain and pleasure and you didn't know how to react; you were confused. But one thing was for sure: you felt full and in ecstasy with him finally inside you. And you just wanted more even on uncomfortableness.

Had you just discovered you were a masochist? Probably.

One of your hands went to his and grabbed it, guiding it over your neck. You wanted him to hold you there; you liked the feeling.

“You keep playing with fire, _____. Do you want me to break you?!”

You nodded, too overwhelmed by lust and pleasure to speak.

He cursed.

Your arm was grabbed and in a matter of seconds you were flipped over. You were on your knees, forehead pressed to a cushion by his hand on your nape. This position allowed him to go faster.

Since you were looking down, he grabbed you by your hair and positioned your head sideways.

“Don't want to miss those pretty reactions you make while you take my cock.” You moaned at his words as he thrusted harshly into you, making you yelp.

“Touching yourself and then asking me to hold you by your neck? What a dirty virgin you are. You really don't want me to go easy on you, huh?” He added.

Every word he said, your body reacted to it. And he knew by the way you were squeezing in on him, which you could tell he loved by the way he cursed under his breath.

“Such a slut… my slut.” He commented; his hand never leaving your nape as he fucked you.

He then lowered himself on you, pushing you down to the sofa, your bodies now touching as he pounded you deep. His thrusts were now more paused but each thrust was harsh and loud.

“Feels so good.” You whimpered.

“I know, beautiful.” He whispered into your ear and licked a stripe of the shell and bit it softly.

You were drooling at this point; so focused on him, his sounds and touches. You also knew for sure that your ass was going to be bruised and red as fuck after this by how hard he had be fucking you. Not only were you probably weren't going to be able to stand up tomorrow, but also sit. You were fucked. But it was worth it to you.

“I’m close.” He grunted as he picked up the pace again, lifting your ass up again; both of his hands digging into your hips; more bruises you knew you were gonna have tomorrow.

You turned your head sideways to watch when he came. But you were also enjoying how his eyes never left your cunt as it took him so nicely.

“You were made for me, _____. Your pretty little tight cunt was made to take my cock.” He panted, high on you.

Suddenly, one of his harsh thrusts came with a sharp pain on your shoulder, extending to your neck; feeling drops of a warm liquid dripping from it; it was your blood. He had bitten you as he came inside you. You were now full of his cum, scent and with a mark claiming you as his.

It was so fast that it didn't give you time to react. But the pain was still there, he could see it on your face. So he licked the area to soothe you and clean it, giving your neck and shoulder kisses afterwards. He still didn't pull out.

“Mine finally.” He said burying his nose on your neck, smelling the mixture of your scent with his; he couldn't get enough of it. He couldn't get enough of the idea that you were all marked up by him; it was satisfying.

“You ok, love?” He asked, checking your wound to see if it stopped bleeding.

“Y-yes.” You replied, still surprised by the bite. You had forgotten when Erika had told you about the bite they give you when it's your first time together; it injects the pheromones into you; marking you as his not only by smell but physically.

“You haven't orgasmed yet, right?” He asked, still inside of you, laid on your back as his breathing returned to normal.

“No… sorry; I thought that was going to be enough.” You apologize, somehow feeling guilty that you didn't come during the intercourse. But again, you were new to this. You only knew some things because of Erika.

I should’ve listened more to her even if I puked afterwards. You thought.

“Love, why are you apologizing? That is perfectly normal; please don't force anything; just enjoy my touch.” He said, finally pulling out, pleased to see that you were filled to the brim with his cum.

You relaxed at his words but whimpered as he pulled out, missing feeling full.

“Turn around for me.”

You were facing him now as he hovered over you. He kissed you… lips now more gentle but full of passion; occasionally licking your lower lip.

His hand then slipped to your cum dripping cunt, playing with your folds before going down on you.

“W-wait! What are you doing?” You quickly questioned as his head was now between your legs; still insecure of your body.

But he ignored you.

“What a pretty sight.” He almost moaned seeing your hole still filled with his cum.

“I'll paint this next, what do you think?” He smirked at you and you blushed looking away.

His thumb circled your clit a bit before spitting on it, making it easier for him to pleasure you. But he did not miss the almost silent moan you released seeing him do that.

He smirked, once more. “You really like that, don’t you? When I spit on you.”

“Can— Can you stop teasing me?!” You said annoyed/flustered and he giggled.

He chuckled. “I knew it… that look you gave me when I spat on my cock was enough to let me know.“

He gave your clit more rubs while he hovered over you again.

“Open.” He gestured to your lips with his eyes.

Confusion was evident on your face, not understanding but you still complied.

“My slut is so well mannered; now stick your tongue out for me.”

A ball of spit fell from his mouth into your tongue.

“Swallow.”

It was embarrassing for you how quickly you complied and wanted more.

What is wrong with me?

You were discovering things about yourself that you never imagined existed.

“You want another one, doll?” He asked, begging for you to say yes as he was also enjoying every second of it. He never knew he was going to like this as much as he does right now; but maybe it was just because this was another way for him to mark you.

You nodded, opening your mouth again. And he smirked.

Another ball of spit fell into your mouth. And this time he continued with a kiss, connecting your tongues.

Every touch, kiss, action… was guiding you towards your high and you were starting to feel it. And he could see it by the way you were grinding your hips on his hand.

He lowered his face to your cunt, taking a whiff of it. “So good.” He moaned before sucking your clit.

You were a moaning whimpering mess by the way his tongue was going so fast on your bud; taking a few whiffs in between as he loved the way you smelled. At this point all his lower face was covered in your fluids. And he didn't mind one bit.

His other hand was now stroking his cock.

He is hard again.

You wanted to touch him so badly too but you were about to come.

Maybe next time. You thought.

But you did have one request. “Jungkook, I’m close. I want you to— to touch my clit with your cock.”

He didn't think twice to do so, wanting to make you go crazy for him, to lose all sense of reason for him, to just think of him only him. He wanted to break you.

“Fuck, I love you so much.” He cursed loving how lewd you were when about to climax.

Occasionally he would slap his cock on your clit as he rubbed himself on your clit, making your body jolt from overstimulation.

“fu— uck, Jungkook!” You grabbed onto his arm while you rode your high on his dick.

You had come before by your own hands but this… this was way different.

Jungkook, seeing your climax, also came on you, strings of semen landing on your belly and tits.

As you came down from cloud nine, he left wet kisses on your neck and then switched to your lips, connecting them.

He broke the kiss, resting his forehead on yours with his eyes closed as he caressed your cheek with his thumb. “Finally… mine.” He exhaled in relief as if he had held his breath all these months that he was with you. Because even though he told you that it would be ok if you didn't feel the same way, reality was that he knew very well it wasn't going to be ok for him; he knew that being with you and not being able to touch you… kiss you… hold you… make love to you… or just watching you with another man… was going to be torturous and unbearable pain. But he was willing to go through it just so he could see you everyday and make sure you were ok.

“I love you.” You said to him, wanting to reassure him you weren't going anywhere and that your feelings were true.

He chuckled as he sighed. “That just makes me want to go for round two. But I know you are tired and sore already so I will save that round two for later.”

You lazily chuckled; body so relaxed…

He noticed your heavy eyelids so he picked you up bridal style and took you to your bed. The sudden gesture shocked you a little bit but later relaxed in his arms.

After he gently laid you on the bed, he left the room and came back with a damped towel and proceeded to clean you up. As he did, your enamored eyes went from his face to his beautiful body, focusing on his caring actions. But the scars of the injury you cured grabbed your full attention after. Till this day you hadn't asked him what exactly he was running from and who had hurt him; it had been four months already. There were some times where you wanted to speak about the subject, but decided not to; scared of making him remember something he didn't want to. But right now, you felt so in tune with him; like your souls had reached their peak in connecting… that it gave you tranquility; you just knew he was willing to share his vulnerability with you.

“Jungkook… what were you running from that day?” You finally asked, his eyes quickly going up to you.

He was definitely not expecting that question now but he was already preparing for it; he knew you both would eventually talk about the subject. But he didn't mind; even if it meant going back to such a miserable past. You were his and he was yours, and he wanted to share everything with you.

“My family.” He said as he kept cleaning you.

You were shocked; that was an answer you were definitely not expecting. You were expecting maybe thieves… someone who just didn't like him… or just bad people in general. But his own blood? No.

“Why, if I may ask?” You said, now sitting on the bed.

“You can ask all you want, beautiful.” He smiled, rubbing your thigh as a sign of reassurance.

“They just… didn't like the idea of me going against their— no, her word.” He chuckled softly, but there was pain evident in his eyes.

“Her?” You asked curious of who he was referring to.

“My mother, it was always her and everyone followed… my whole childhood consisted of her controlling every little thing of my life; even the way I dressed. But as i got older, I began to rebel; starting with my hobbies… that's when I learned how to paint.”

It's incredible for you how well he hid the pain and reality of his childhood when he talked to you about it. He always told you the nice memories but never the bad ones. And you could tell there were a lot of bad ones.

“I changed the way I dressed; I got piercings and tattoos… I always got shit for it but I didn't care; I could take it… that's what I always said.” He continued.

And damn does he look good… You were happy he got the courage to be himself.

“But my tolerance was cut short when she forced me to marry a woman from a well known vampire clan. Apparently she got interested in me at one of the many balls I attended. And since she belongs to a very rich and powerful clan… it was all about gain.”

He threw the towel away and went to rest beside you, laying his head on your thigh. He took your hand and placed it on his head. And you already knew what it meant: he wanted pets.

“So I ran before the wedding could take place. But she found out and went looking for me; she sent my two brothers to search for me. The commitment they had to find me was astonishing because I was already far far away when they found me. And that's… that's when my own two brothers that I grew up with, almost… killed me.”

His last two words sounded doubtful, as he still couldn't believe that had happened.

“They tried to talk it out at first but when I kept refusing… all they said was that they didn't have another choice. I was always the strongest one out of the three so that’s the reason why she sent them both. But… even so, I managed to escape and lose them.”

You wiped the tears that had not gone unnoticed by you.

“Damn, I'm crying?” He chuckled and you nodded.

“It’s ok.” You reassured and kissed his hand that cleaned his eyes.

That action secretly drives him crazy.

“I ran all I could; I remember passing a lot of trees. And then… I saw you. Even though I was in pain, once my eyes laid on you I felt that you were someone who was going to be really important to me; I could feel it; as if we had known each other in a past life. But at the same time I was doubtful; probably because my intuition was being clouded with my fight or flight instinct; but once I saw you turn back because of a spider.. I knew I was ok and that you weren't going to hurt me.”

“I don't know if to feel flattered or insulted.” You said making him snort out a laugh.

“So that spider technically made you trust me?”

“Yeah… I thank that spider every day. Because otherwise, I would’ve probably just bled out.”

That was scary just thinking about; knowing that there could’ve been a possibility where you didn't meet each other. You look back and you for the first time in your life… feel thankful for a spider showing up.

“In that case, I'm grateful for the spider too.” You both laughed.

Your fingers kept running his hair while his eyes closed, enjoying your touch like always. There was silence but it was a comfortable one. As you sat there giving him affection, your eyes scanned all his features. Still admiring his beauty as if it was the first time you saw him.

“You are so beautiful.” Those words just needed to come out from your mouth.

His eyes opened with a shocked flustered expression; he was blushing and moved one of his hands to cover half of his face as if it was helping cover the obvious blushing cheeks and ears. He always did that when he got shy.

You chuckled at his cuteness. “Too bad I'm gonna get old and won't match your youthfulness.” You chuckled again but this time a bit more sad.

His expression changed to a more serious one. “Why are you thinking like that?”

“Because… my body will change and… I won't be able to keep up with… you know… your needs.”

The harsh truth; one that had been bothering you for a while now but tried your best to ignore it; you wanted to live in the moment after all. But the problem was that you wanted to make him happy always; to please him and be there for him when he needed you just like he does for you now. You didn't want to lose that ability. Because you knew for a fact he was going to love you unconditionally but it was still going to be hard for you.

He sat now, placing a hand on your cheek. “_____, look at me. Your hair will turn gray and your skin will prune. But your smile won't change, the way you make me laugh won't change, the way you love won't change, your fear of spiders probably won't change either.”

“Hey!” You protested.

“And your way of knowing me so well… the way you have me at the palm of your hands… the way you turn me on… won't change either. All those things are what made me fall deeply in love with you.”

“Even if my ass and tits drop?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh my god, ____. Yes, I will love you even if your ass and tits drop.” he rolled his eyes and began to laugh and you joined.

You were in love; mad, mad in love.

“In other words… Till my end comes, you will always have my heart. Even after our inevitable parting happens, I'll never let go of you.”

Tears unavoidably fell from your eyes as you smiled; feeling so lucky and so loved. Was this the world reciprocating all the love you gave to it al this time?

“Besides, we can just make potions for stamina and endurance. If you know what I mean.” He winked and smirked.

You slapped his arm and began laughing. “You had to ruin the moment you fucking degenerate.”

“Only if it's you.” He stuck his tongue out, stopping it between his teeth with deviousness in his eyes; a playful flirty expression he tended to make.

He really never failed to make you flustered, shy or blushed even if it was sometimes corny. It was something that you knew that even if decades passed, you would still experience.

“I hope I get to see you in my next life too, Jungkook.”

“Oh believe me, I will always find my way back to you.”

And as always, that sincerity in his eyes was undoubtedly one of your biggest weaknesses. Your lips couldn't help but to reach for his.

Now the next thing was to plan the wedding. You didn't have any ideas yet. But one thing was for sure. And that was that Yoongi was going to make the pastries. It was a perfect excuse to make him do pie.

Sorry Yoongi.