#i won't say but there IS a right answer. to me. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slater-baby · 3 days ago

Text

Tags: free use, degradation, slight piss kink (but no actual piss), dubious consent, perverted Simon

Notes: Dedicated to that one anon in my inbox who keeps asking for piss content!! I'm sorry to say I probably won't write your request, but hopefully this small blurb makes up for it ❤️

Simon had never been a patient man. He wasn't patient at work. Wasn't patient at home. And most of all, he definitely wasn't patient when he was inside of you.

Every time he crawled into bed, pinning you down with his meaty hands, biting at your throat nearly hard enough to draw blood, all the while bullying his red, leaking cock into your pussy.

Since the beginning, there was no point in fighting back. A man like him—with all his viciousness and strength—wouldn't be deterred by a thing like you. It was a point only made more embarrassing by the way he held you down and fucked you hard, muttering that demeaning nickname in your ear.

"Shut up," he'd snarl, balls slapping against your ass, "I'll fill you up 'n then I'll go—and you better not test me, little girl. Not right now. Not fuckin' today."

Most of the time, you couldn't do more than spread your legs for him and let him take what he wanted, whining every time he bent your body into a new position.

However, just because he was a brute didn't mean he was brainless. He was your brute after all. And, if you were good enough, he'd give you a bit of leeway.

Today, you bit the bullet.

God, Simon must have had you pinned down for hours, the bed sheets soaked through with sweat underneath your naked body. He was still dressed, but you were bare and raw, his handprints marked into your body from nearly head to toe.

You were so broken and bent you could barely breathe, legs pushed so far back your knees were resting on the pillow beside your head while Simon slammed his swollen cock into your pussy again and again.

"Ngh—“ you wince, scrunching your brow.

Another thrust, another unwitting moan. Fuck, he was ruthless. Every swing of his hips, every slap of his skin—god, he puts his entire weight behind it, the head of his dick pushing into your cervix regardless of how he'd gentle he said he’d be with you tonight.

But, with every thrust, he pushes into more than just your cervix. After so long playing his personal fleshlight, the uncomfortable feeling was beginning to distract you.

"Simon—Simon, wait. Stop," you shove at his shoulder blades, wriggling your hips.

At the tiny taps, he stops, still buried inside of you.

"You good?" he drawls, panting like some looming beast.

"Yeah, it's just..." you look away from him with a flush, slowly easing off of his cock, "I need the bathroom."

He cocks a brow, but otherwise lets you go. However, he certainly makes no effort to pull himself out of the warmth of your pussy, instead watching on with a straight face while you wiggle yourself out from under him.

Prick, you roll your eyes at his dramatics.

"You just went," he huffs as you close the door behind you, "Your bladder can't be that fuckin' small."

"Simon," he hears you sigh on the other side of the door, "Look, it's just...when you're inside of me, sometimes you put a little more pressure on my bladder, okay? S'not my fault..."

Is that a whine he hears?

It's definitely a whine, his brain tells him.

Again, he rolls his eyes, irritation building. While you do your business, he looks down at himself, still poised in the position you'd left him. Idly, his leaking cock twitches between his heavy legs, and he scowls, watching as bubbly strings of your slick drip off of the tip and onto the bed. He scoffs as he wraps a hand around it.

"So?" he huffs, fucking into his fist.

"So," you pout, "Maybe you should be a bit more gentle..."

"Yeah, right," he chuckles, pounding his hips into his hand a few times, "Cause you'd still moan just as loud if I was soft 'n sweet wi' you."

There's no answer from beyond the door. Irritation creeps up on him quickly. Impatiently, he stands from the mattress, walking over towards the door. The hinges creak when he leans his weight on it.

"Hurry up," he demands, blood pumping.

"I am hurrying!!" you whine. Again. Like always.

"Fuck."

The vitriol is almost as loud as his libido, blood rushing south. Fondness transforms into want, transforms into sheer need quicker than he can reel himself in. And before he knows it, he's barging through the door. You gasp, having barely stood up from the stool.

"What are you—“ you begin, but you don't get the chance to finish. He merely wraps his ruthless hands around your hips, wrestling you into submission against his stronger body.

"Turn around," he seethes over the sound of your whines, "Bend over. Ass up. I need you."

"B-but, I—“ you mewl like a cat in heat when he swipes his cock between your legs; you're wetter than you've ever felt before, "Simon, I—I still need to go—“

"No, you don't," he grits, grabbing your hair to yank your head up when he slides home. Your entire body trembles against his, legs shaking so hard you stumble forward where you stand, forced to spread your legs over the bowl of the toilet.

You can only gasp in shock as he starts right back up fucking you again, ramming his hips into you hard enough to make you brace your hands against the white porcelain back.

"You don't need a piss, you need to cum," he tells you, as if it were a fact, "If you were smart, you'd be able to tell the difference between the two, love."

"Simon, not—not there—“ you gasp, that uncomfortable urge reeling through your nerves once again, amplified by the way he wraps his arm around your stomach to hold you in place. Shakily, you push a hand behind yourself to shove at his thrusting hips. If anything, it only makes him fuck into your harder.

"Hush," he seethes, thrusting hard to shove you forward. Tears begin dripping down the side of your cheek as that feeling of desperation floods your body, demanding that you cross your legs and hide yourself from him. But Simon won't have it.

No, he only bends you to his will, plastering his sweaty cheek against yours when he begins to speak.

"You need to go, huh? That it, baby?" he mocks, rocking into you slowly—almost as if he cared about your whining moans.

"I—I don't know," you moan, beyond decency now, "Please, just pull out and let me see if I—“

"If you need to go, then go. Right here. Right now," he teases, "Nothing's stoppin' you, baby. Y'won't make a mess or nothin'. Y'just gotta stop whingin' and go."

"Simon—I can't do it—“ you cry, cunt fluttering around him as you halfheartedly try and follow his directions.

"You sure?" he shoves his cock home once more, reaching around to fondle your clit; you flinch against him, "'Cause you feel pretty wet down here to me, baby..."

"That's not—" you try to protest, but find yourself leaning into the feeling, discomfort transforming into pleasure alarmingly quick.

"You clenchin' around me 'cause you're desperate or because you're close? Which one is it, girl? C'mon," he punctuates the words with a slap to your ass, "I don't got all day."

Exhausted and overwhelmed, you try in vain to decipher the feeling inside of you. Yet, the more he pushes into you, body strong and warm against your back, the more confused you become. The flush on your face is so severe you can hardly contain your embarrassed tears when you answer him.

"I—I don't know..." you practically sob, listless now. His faithful arms wrap around you, amplifying the emotion coursing through you.

"Aww, that's alright, baby," he coos, smiling wolfishly as he thrusts home once again, "I've got you."

His hot tongue skirts around your neck, laving into a slow, wet kiss beneath your jaw.

"S'okay," his chest expands on a teasing laugh, "Guess we're 'bout to find out which one it is anyway."

At his words, your eyes go wide and you can't stop the gasp that leaves you. However, when he grabs your trembling hands and shoves them up against the wall, perfectly positioning your pussy over the toilet bowl, you whine uselessly at him once more.

"Simon—please—“

"Did someone tell you to talk?" he bites back, wrenching your hair in his hand while he picks up his pace, "No? Then shut up and let me fuck you."

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mostlysignssomeportents · 6 hours ago

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Ideas Lying Around

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in DC TOMORROW (Mar 4), and in RICHMOND on WEDNESDAY (Mar 5). More tour dates here. Mail-order signed copies from LA's Diesel Books.

I get a special pleasure from citing Milton Friedman. I like to imagine that as I do, he groans around the red-hot spit protruding from his jaws, prompting howls of laughter from the demons who pelt him with molten faeces for all eternity.

If you're lucky enough not to know about Friedman, here's the short version. Friedman was a kind of court sorcerer to Ronald Reagan, Margaret Thatcher, Augusto Pinochet, and other assorted authoritarian, hard-right leaders who set us on the path to the hellscape we inhabit today. But before Friedman rose to prominence and influence, he was a crank. Specifically, he was a crank who dedicated his life to rolling back all the progress of the New Deal and re-establishing the Gilded Age:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/06/the-end-of-the-road-to-serfdom/

In his crank days, people were justifiably skeptical of this project. "Milton," they'd say, "people like New Deal programs. They like the minimum wage, the 40-hour work-week, and the assurance that they won't be maimed, poisoned, burned alive, or otherwise killed on the job. They relish a dignified retirement, quality education for their children, and the assurance that no one is starving to death in their country's borders. People like national parks! They like Medicare! They like libraries, museums, and reliable weather forecasts! How, Milton, do you propose to convince the vast majority of people that they should settle for being forelock-tugging plebs, groveling before their social betters for the chance to scrub their toilets?"

Friedman had an answer: "In times of crisis, ideas can move from the fringe to the center in an eyeblink. Our job is to keep good ideas lying around, in anticipation of that crisis."

When the oil crisis hit, when prices spiked in the USA and abroad, Friedman seized his opportunity. The years following the oil crisis saw a violent political revolution in which organized labor, social justice movements, and the political opposition to oligarchy were crushed under police batons and the guns of Pinochet's thugs. The world was transformed. Left parties like UK Labour were remade as austerity-pilled neoliberals (not for nothing did Margaret Thatcher call Tony Blair "her greatest accomplishment," and it took Bill Clinton to pass a welfare "reform" bill that was too extreme even for Reagan to get through Congress).

Friedman was a monster.

But.

He had a hell of a theory of change.

When prices spiral, when people can't pay their bills anymore, when their retirement savings are wiped out, anything is possible. The oil crisis wasn't Jimmy Carter's fault, but the voters still delivered a Ba'ath Party-style Republican majority in 1980. The covid shocks weren't the fault of the world governments that presided over pandemic inflation, but they were creamed in the ensuing elections.

Let's talk about Trump's tariffs here. Trump's goal is to force a re-shoring of the American industrial capacity that was shipped to low-wage, low-regulation corporate havens around the world after the Reagan revolution. The pandemic provided a vivid lesson about the problems with long, brittle supply chains where all the slack has been extracted and converted to dividends and stock buybacks. That kind of system may work well – at least to the extent that it keeps Walmart's shelves full of cheap goods – but holy shit did it ever fail badly. Re-shoring is a good idea, as are other forms of pro-resiliency industrial policy.

But re-shoring doesn't happen overnight. As we saw during China's covid lockdowns, when one supplier ceases to ship goods, other suppliers can't spring up overnight to take up the slack. China itself became a manufacturing powerhouse thanks to extensive state support and planning, and it took decades. That kind of patient, long-run, planned process is the best-case scenario (and it still caused wrenching dislocations to Chinese society). Simply throwing up tariff walls and demanding that industry figure it out – amid the resulting economic chaos and the political instability it brings – isn't a plan, it's a disaster.

Redistributing the means of production around the world is a necessary and urgent project, but it won't be advanced through Trump's rapid, unscheduled mid-air disassembly of the global system of trade. Tariffs will cause breakdowns in neoliberalism's fragile supply chains, and the ensuing chaos – mass unemployment, shortages, political rage – will make it even harder for countries (including the USA) to rebuild the productive capacity vaporized by 40 years of neoliberalism.

This is our oil crisis, in other worlds: a moment in which a belligerent superpower's ill-considered monkeying with the underpinnings of global production will cause chaos, the crisis in which "ideas can move from the periphery to the center" in an eyeblink. If Steve Bannon can call himself a Leninist, then leftists can call themselves Friedmanites. This is our opportunity.

Or rather, it's our opportunity to seize – or lose. Governments are defaulting to retaliatory tariffs as the best response to Trump's tariffs. This is political poison: making everything your country imports from the USA more expensive is a very weird way to punish America for its trade war. Remember the glaring lesson of pandemic inflation: a government that presides over rising prices will be destroyed by the electorate.

There's a much better alternative, one that strikes at the very roots of American oligarchy, whose extreme wealth and corrosive political influence comes from its holdings in rent-extracting monopolies, especially Big Tech monopolies.

Tech giants are the major factor in US economic health. Take Big Tech stocks out of the S&P 500 and you've got a stagnant market punctuated by periods of decline. Superficially, US tech companies have different sources of extraordinary profit, but a closer look reveals that they all share the same foundation: Big Tech makes the bulk of its money in the form of monopoly rents, backstopped by global IP treaties.

Apple and Google take a 30% cut of every dollar spent in an app, and it's a felony to jailbreak a phone to make a new app store with the industry standard 1-3% transaction fees. Google and Meta take 51% out of every ad dollar, and publishers and advertisers are locked into their ecosystems by abusive contracts and technological countermeasures. HP charges $10,000/gallon for the colored water you put in your printer, and third-party ink and refills violate the anti-circumvention laws the US has crammed down the throats of every country's legislature. Tesla makes its fattest margins by renting you features that are installed in your car at the factory, from autopilot to the ability to use your battery's whole charge, raking in monthly fees from you and anyone you sell your car to – and the reason your mechanic can't just permanently unlock all that DLC for $50 is the IP laws that your country agreed to enforce in order to trade with the USA. Mechanics pay $10k/year per manufacturer for the tools to interpret the error codes generated by your car, and the only reason no one is selling a $50/month universal diagnostic service is – once again – US-originated IP laws that came in a parcel with trade agreements that gave your country's exporters access to US markets. Farmers pay John Deere $200 every time they fix their own tractors, because the repairs won't work until a technician comes out and types an unlock code into the tractor's keyboard – and bypassing that unlock code is a crime under the laws passed to comply with international treaties.

These aren't profits – they're rents. It's money Big Tech gets from owning a factor of production, not money it gets from actually making something. The app maker takes all the risks, but Apple and Google cream off 30% of their gross income. Big Tech's profits are almost an afterthought when compared to its rents, the junk-fee platform fees and farcically expensive consumables. For tech firms, capitalism was a transitional phase between feudalism…and technofeudalism:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital

America's robust GDP figures are a mirage, artificially buoyed up by the monopoly rents extracted by US Big Tech, who prey on Americans and foreigners:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/18/pikettys-productivity/#reaganomics-revenge

But foreigners don't have to tolerate this nonsense. Governments around the world signed up to protect giant American companies from small domestic competitors (from local app stores – for phones, games consoles, and IoT gadgets – to local printer cartridge remanufacturers) on the promise of tariff-free access to US markets. With Trump imposing tariffs will-ye or nill-ye on America's trading partners large and small, there is no reason to go on delivering rents to US Big Tech.

The first country or bloc (hi there, EU!) to do this will have a giant first-mover advantage, and could become a global export powerhouse, dominating the lucrative markets for tools that strike at the highest-margin lines of business of the most profitable companies in the history of the human race. Like Jeff Bezos told the publishers: "your margin is my opportunity":

https://www.marketplacepulse.com/articles/the-cost-of-your-margin-is-my-opportunity

In times of crisis, ideas can move from the periphery to the center in an eyeblink. Many of us have spent decades organizing and mobilizing against these extractive, dangerous, destabilizing abuses of technology, where the computer-powered devices we rely on for everything are designed to serve their manufacturers' shareholders, at our expense. And yet, these technologies have only proliferated, infecting everything from insulin pumps and ventilators to coffee makers and "smart" TVs.

It's time for a global race to the top – for countries to compete with one another to see who will capture US Big Tech's margins the fastest and most aggressively. Not only will this make things cheaper for everyone else in the world – it'll also make things cheaper for Americans, because once there is a global, profitable trade in software that jailbreaks your Big Tech devices and services, it will surely leak across the US border. Canada doesn't have to confine itself to selling reasonably priced pharmaceuticals to beleaguered Americans – it can also set up a brisk trade in the tools of technological self-determination and liberation from Big Tech bondage.

Taking the margins for Big Tech's most profitable enterprises to zero, globally, will strike at the very heart of American oligarchy, and the hundreds of millions tech giants flushed into the political system to put Trump into office again. A race to the top for technological liberation benefits everyone – including Americans.

Truly, it would be a rising tide that lifted all boats (except for oligarchs' superyachts - those, it will swamp and sink).

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/03/03/friedmanite/#oil-crisis-two-point-oh

#pluralistic #ideas lying around #milton friedman #global trade #trade #tariffs #oil crisis #theories of change #trumpism #anticircumvention #dmca 1201 #gatt #wto #isds #investor state dispute settlement

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fizzyapplecandy · 2 days ago

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The one with the shy bunny and the rowdy cat Part 2

Part 1

Ateez Seonghwa X Wooyoung X Reader

Genres and warnings: hybrid imagine, poly relationships (no mxm), strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, mild language, mild smut (in the last chapter), mature scenes

Word count: 4.7k

Special tags: @pshmars @itzbrigitte-blog @atiny-dime-p1ece

You tell the boys your story, and the three of you decide what to do next.

"Wake up you rodent!"

The blanket was pulled off you and you were grabbed by the arm. Jisung lifted you up, and you could see the anger seeping through his eyes.

"What did I say about sleeping in? Huh?! When are you gonna learn?"

He let go of you quite harshly and you fell to the floor.

Your hands went over your ears immediately, because you knew he'd pull on them otherwise.

"I-I'm sorry. I w-was so tired f-from yesterday."

He laughed. "Tired? Don't tell me you're softening up? Should we go over your morning routine, again?"

Jisung rolled up his sleeves and crouched in front of you. He was trying to intimidate you, and it was working.

"N-No Sir, please! It won't happen a-again!"

Your chin was roughly yanked up. His sinister smile brought chills down your spine.

"We'll see about that."

You were yanked from your nightmare, and you could see you were in unfamiliar surroundings. Thankfully, you escaped the events that were about to unfold in your dream. Or was it more of a memory? With everything that happened at that house of horrors, you can't quite decipher.

The room you were currently in was not yours, and you vaguely remember the events of the previous day. This is Wooyoung's and Seonghwa's house, and they were kind enough to let you rest and eat. You had to get going soon, otherwise they'd think you're greedy and regret helping you.

You glanced at the alarm clock on the table, your every bulging out in shock. How have you slept past 12 o'clock? That never happened, you weren't allowed. What would the boys think?

Oh God. Would they think you're doing this to stay longer than you're welcomed? How would you explain this?

Thankfully, your train of thought was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

"Bunny? Are you finally up? I'd let you sleep more, but I'm so bored out here! Can I come in?"

Why was he asking for your permission to enter his room? He could go whatever he wanted. You were too lost in your thoughts to answer, so he lightly knocked again.

"Bunny?"

"C-Come in." You whispered, hoping he'd hear you.

Wooyoung slowly opened the door and stepped inside. He was wearing comfy clothes that seemed too big on him, but he looked cute. Maybe he'd give you something to take with you when you leave today. His sweaters seemed warm enough for the weather outside.

"Good morning sleepyhead. How was your night?"

You leaned up against the headboard, hugging your knees to your chest.

"I-It was fine. I s-slept well." You cleared your throat and continued.

"W-When can I go? I-I'm sorry I didn't wake up earlier."

He looked flabbergasted for a second.

"Go? What do you mean go?"

"Well... I have to leave today, r-right?"

He was next to you in a flash, grabbing both of your hands and squeezing them tightly. Your eyes widened, and you froze in place.

"You're not going anywhere bunny! I... We told you yesterday that you're staying here! Hwa told me not to talk to you about it before he gets home, but he knows I won't listen."

Wooyoung noticed your stance, so he softened his hold on you. He shuffled closer, placing his head on your knees. You could see the mole under his eye clearly, and he did look adorable. The smile on his face soon reflected on you, and you loosened up.

"Y-You really want me to s-stay?"

He nodded, placing a soft kiss on one of your knees.

"We really do. Hwa said it's up to you in the end, but just so you know, I won't stop until you're ours."

Your gaze now softened. Wooyoung was serious about keeping you, and Seonghwa seemed to be on the same page. The cat was rooted in the spot, not moving his head from your knees, and then you remembered something from yesterday.

Almost shyly, you placed your hand on his head. His eyes widened, but surprisingly, he kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to ruin the moment. After making yourself comfortable, you placed your fingers behind his ear and started scratching.

Immediately, he began purring, and you felt the vibrations from his chest on your legs. His eyes closed, and the cat looked absolutely blissful.

"That's the spot... You're so good at this bunny. I could crash out right here."

Which he literally did. He pushed your knees down until your legs were flat on the bed before he laid himself over them. His head was now on your plush thighs, his arms around your waist. Wooyoung looked peaceful, and you weren't about to ruin the moment, even though you felt a bit nervous.

"Keep going, I'm just getting comfortable."

Your hand went back to his ear, the other one smoothing down his ruffled black hair.

The purrs were only getting louder as time went on. You didn't even know for how long you've been at it for.

Wooyoung shifted on the bed, and you could see his tail swishing more rapidly in the air. The energy changed, and the room became stuffy all of the sudden. You weren't used to this feeling, so you tried moving, but it only made the cat protest.

"No, no, don't stop. I was just about to..." As if he suddenly realised something, he shot up from his position and you could now clearly see the deep flush of his cheeks. His gaze was intense, and you didn't know what to do, or say. Luckily, Wooyung always had something to say.

"That was the best scratch of my life, bunny. I wish you'd let me do it to you as well."

You cowered away a bit, placing your hands over your ears. He wouldn't do that now, would he? You told them yesterday that you didn't want that. Wooyoung sensed your fear, and shook his head.

"Don't worry, I won't do it. I respect your wishes. It's just a shame..." He glanced at your bunny ears again before standing up from the bed.

He clapped his hands excitedly. "Now! Off we go, we have breakfast to make. Well, lunch to be precise. Hwa knows I like to sleep in, but I was too pumped to see you so I woke up really early. But, I didn't do a thing, so now we have to hurry before he comes home."

The cat turned around and went towards the door. He glanced back at you, still frozen in your spot.

"I'll set out some clothes in the bathroom, go change and come keep me company."

With that, he left you alone again to process the last thirty minutes.

He was a peculiar being, and you kind of liked him because of that. He was unapologetically himself, and he showed affection towards others with no problem.

Wooyoung made you comfortable, and you were thankful for that.

You got out of bed feeling a bit lighter, and made your way towards the bathroom. You could hear pots and glasses being moved in the kitchen, so you figured Wooyoung started on lunch.

There was a fresh set of clothes on the washer that smelled strongly of Wooyoung, so you knew those were only his clothes. He probably made sure to scent them even more before he placed them in the bathroom, because you also noticed his possessiveness along with other quirks.

Your morning routine was cut incredibly short because Wooyoung was shouting for you to hurry up every two minutes. He followed up with 'I miss you, I need you here.' and it honestly gave you a headache. You kind of understand Seognhwa better.

"There you are! I was about to pass out of boredom. Look at you! So cute in my clothes!" He sniffed around you, looking pleased with himself. There was still a trace of your scent left, but it mixed well with his. He grabbed you by the hand and sat you on a chair by the kitchen island.

"Now, my little helper, you just sit here and look pretty."

"B-But I want to do s-something."

He crouched down and gently placed his hands on your cheeks, squishing your face and cooing at you.

"You're doing so much just by being here. I won't be so lonely anymore, and that's the best thing you can do."

You looked into each other's eyes, and you had to admit, he was incredibly handsome so up close.

"I w-won't be lonely either." You managed to say.

"Oh sweetie..."

Before you knew it, his arms went around you and he pushed his face into the crook of your neck. Wooyoung inhaled deeply, letting himself enjoy the moment of closeness with someone that wasn't Hwa.

The other thing he noticed was how you made him feel something Seognhwa certainly didn't, and that might become a problem.

He smiled when he felt your tiny hands on his back, unsure, but eager to reciprocate the affection.

"Take your time, bunny. You can hug me, and pet me, and kiss me anytime you want, you know?"

You pulled back to look at his face, now extremely close to yours.

"K-Kiss?"

He nodded. "Yeah, kiss. You know what that is, right?"

"Kind o-of." You whispered.

The grin on his face made him more wolfish than a cat, and you kind of shied away.

"I can show you, you know. I promise you'll like it."

You didn't know what to say. On one hand, his offer was tempting. You were sure Wooyoung wouldn't do anything harmful, but the idea of a kiss was new to you.

"Hmm? What do you say, bunny? Can I show you?"

His finger traced your cheek, slowly going over your bottom lip. He paid close attention to your reaction, and he was pleased to find you almost completely relaxed around him.

His hand went back to your cheek, caressing it softly, before he began leaning down.

You kind of wanted it to happen. You remember the other hybrids at the shelter talking about how they wished they'd get many kisses, and how it was such a lovely thing. You don't remember it being quite like this, but you didn't want to complain. Having Wooyoung so close made you feel kind of warm inside.

The universe seemed to think this wasn't the right moment, because you heard the front door opening.

"Guys? I'm home!" Seonghwa's voice boomed through the apartment, and the both of you froze in place. Wooyoung was quick to snap out of it, going back to the counter and grabbing a knife to cut the vegetables he laid out. You, however, sat completely still, cheeks probably red, and couldn't get a single word out.

"We're in the kitchen! Lunch will be served a bit late today!"

"What? You know I have to go back to the bakery in two hours."

Seonghwa was about to complain some more, but when he rounded the corner and noticed your dazed expression and Wooyoung's tense back, he stopped.

"What's going on?" he asked, pointing at you.

Wooyoung turned around, and now he saw his flustered expression matching yours.

"What? Nothing? What are you talking about? Come and help if you want to eat."

Seonghwa turned towards you. "Is everything okay, Y/N?"

You managed to nod slightly, but he didn't want to pry anymore. There were more serious topics you needed to discuss after lunch.

He went over to Wooyoung and the men made a quick meal for all of you. There wasn't any conversation flowing between you after they encouraged you to take a bite like yesterday.

It wasn't until Seognhwa was washing the dishes that he cleared his throat and got your and Wooyoung's attention.

"I suppose you've already told Y/N about our offer?"

Wooyoung nodded rather enthusiastically from his spot on the couch. You were perched on the sofa, too far away for his liking, but you were still apprehensive about your little encounter.

"That I did. Ask her hyung, please, please!"

Seognhwa put down the dish towel he was holding and made his way over to the two of you. He sat beside Wooyoung, who was gleaming from joy.

"Well, Y/N... We know you have had a tough time, and we figured you'd be safer with us here. Wooyoung needs a friend, and I find you really lovely. What do you say about staying with us permanently?"

You glanced at them, keeping quiet even though your thoughts were scattered. Wooyoung has made it clear that he wants you here, and now Seonghwa only confirmed it. Could you really start over with them?

"I... I w-want to stay, but... T-There's nothing special about me. I-I'm not fun to be around."

The cat's eyes widened, and he dropped to his knees in front of you, holding onto your knees as if you'd disappear any second.

"Don't say that! You're so small and soft, and so pretty. And! You give the best pets. I'm sorry Hwa, but this girl right here, she's a pro."

The blonde man chuckled at his hybrid's antics. At least he managed to bring a small smile onto your face.

"You hear him Y/N? Wooyoung thinks you are special, and so do I. It's up to you in the end, we won't force you to stay. If you want to go, then-"

"No! Absolutely not!" Wooyoung tightened his grip around your legs and shook his head.

"Woo, let go of her. We need to let Y/N answer for herself."

Wooyoung got quiet, but he didn't let go. You somehow knew he wouldn't, and you didn't mind.

Thinking it over in your head, the logical option would be to keep living with them. You wouldn't be in fear 24/7, and you would always have a warm bed, and some company. You were starting to like the black cat, and Seonghwa seemed like a person you could trust. He wasn't like other humans you've met, but you doubted there would be anything worse than Jisung.

Speaking of him, you probably had to tell them about yourself and your situation. You were still legally Jisung's, and that could cause problems.

"I-I'd like to stay here w-with you."

"Yes! Oh yes, yes! Thank you bunny!" Wooyoung shot up from his place on the floor and practically climbed onto your lap. It was a tight fit on the sofa, but you moved around to accommodate him. Seonghwa watched with amusement at you, coming to sit on the floor in front of you both.

"That's wonderful. We can take you shopping tomorrow, you need new clothes. Although Wooyoung wouldn't mind sharing his, I still think you need your own wardrobe."

You lifted your head from the cat's chest and gazed into Seonghwa's kind eyes.

"Are you sure? I-I can manage with anything."

He nodded. "Absolutely. You deserve it."

Seognhwa took a deep breath before continuing.

"Now comes the not so fun part. We need to know what happened to you. Do you have an owner, or are you really a stray?"

Even though you knew the question was coming, it didn't make it any easier to answer. Wooyoung stoked your arm and it encouraged you to start telling them your story. Surprisingly, your voice didn't tremble one bit.

"I lived at a shelter before Jisung came and adopted me. He seemed nice enough, and I really wanted to have a home to call my own. It didn't take long for him to show his true colours... Life with him..." You kind of got lost in your thoughts for a moment, but the boys didn't pressure you to go on. They waited until you took a couple deep breaths, and Seonghwa intervened.

"It's okay sweetie. You don't have to go into detail, we kind of get it now. You, and Wooyoung, have to realise that we can't just keep you here. It wouldn't be legal. We have to find your owner and get him to sign over the paperwork."

Your eyes widened and you de tangled yourself from Wooyoung.

"Please no! Please! I can't see him again, he'll take me away!" You were now on your knees in front of Seonghwa, pleading with him, hands clasped together.

The poor man didn't know what to do. Seonghwa knew this wasn't going to be easy.

"I'm sorry sweetie, but we can't do this without him. We can give it a couple more days, but we risk losing you forever if we keep quiet about it. If we look at this from a legal perspective, it will seem like we stole you from him."

"That's not fair! That's pure crap!" Wooyoung's ears were now pinned straight on his head, and his tail angrily swished behind him. The boy was angry, and if Wooyoung managed to get so angry, it was serious.

"I'm sorry Woo, but I'm just stating facts."

Seonghwa carefully took your hands in his, sensing how stressed you became. Your nose was twitching constantly, and your fluffy bunny ears were down turned.

"Y/N, I promise you, I will do everything I can to make you ours. We won't give up on you. As I've said, let's give it some time before we do anything drastic. We'll let you settle in, but then we have to get serious."

You sniffed, and tears were about to fall out of your red eyes.

"But what if he wants to take me back? I don't want to go with him Seonghwa."

If you weren't in such poor shape, he'd feel even better hearing his name coming from you in that sweet voice of yours. But now was not the time, so he took a chance and wrapped his arms around your small frame.

"We're not giving you up. If he wants to fight, we'll take him. Isn't that right Woo?"

The cat was behind you in a flash, wrapping his arms around Seonghwa's, squishing you between them.

"Yes, absolutely. I won't let him have you bunny. You're ours now. Don't think about the bad stuff anymore, from now on, we're going to be so happy together. To celebrate-" He stood up and went over to Seonghwa's bag on the counter.

He rummaged around and Seonghwa groaned.

"-We will be going shopping right now! We can't wait until tomorrow, we want to make our bunny happy. Ah, here it is!"

He pulled out Seonghwa's wallet and took out what seemed to be a credit card.

"This right here is Y/N's ticket to happiness! Come now, we have to hurry! We've got a long day ahead. You don't mind Hwa, right? I mean, you're practically rich, so let us enjoy it."

"I work hard for that money, you know?"

Wooyoung pulled you away from his, no, not his, your owners hands.

"I know. And we will appreciate it even more, isn't that right bunny?"

You didn't know what to say, so you just nodded.

"See, we agree. Now, let's go! We'll see you tonight Hwa!"

Wooyoung quickly pulled you out the door before you had a chance to protest, and off the two of you went. It gave Seonghwa a chance to assess their situation in peace.

They wanted you with them, that much was certain, but what about your owner? He must be a bad man, otherwise you wouldn't have ran off. They had to build a good case and present it to a judge. That way, they could have you without much hassle. It would be better for you as well, seeing how easily frightened you became at the thought of going back to your previous home.

He had another half hour before he had to make his way back to work, and an idea popped into his head. It was time to use some of his friend's legal skills. With his phone in his hand, he dialed a number he knew by heart. After two rings, the person on the other end picked up.

"Hey there Hongjoong, how are you? Good, good... Say, would you be interested in taking on a new hybrid case?"

"Do you want a blanket? I can share my kitty one, but some nights I like it all to myself. Oh! We can sleep in the same bed, that way we can both have it at the same time!"

Wooyoung was too enthusiastic about this shopping trip. The rollercoaster of emotions you went through didn't seem to phase him, or maybe he was just trying to distract you from thinking about anything as well.

It was working, to some degree.

You were now in a random store, picking through shirts and pants for you. There was an obvious colour pallet of soft pinks and lilacs going around, and Wooyoung couldn't get enough of making cute outfits for you. It was a stark contrast to the black mini skirts and tight tank tops Jisung made you wear.

After two bags filled with clothes, you moved on to some personal things for your room. You'd obviously have to share with Wooyoung, according to him, so you could pick something to add to his shelves.

You were interested in the colouring books, so he picked those up, as well as a bracelet making kit. He said you'd do it together, and make the three of you friendship bracelets.

"I can sleep on the couch, you know? It's your room after all."

He almost looked offended by that.

"On the couch? No, not a chance. We're sharing now, I want to do it. Unless..." He looked kind of sad.

"Unless you don't want to? I can be a bit much, I know... But I really want us to stay together."

Maybe even the confident cat needed some reassurance from time to time. You came close to him and took his hand in yours.

"I think I will be just fine."

He quickly covered his surprise with a smile, which you mirrored back at him.

Before you knew it, your hands were filled with bags, your feet were killing you, and your stomach hasn't stopped growling for half an hour.

"W-Wooyoung, I think I'm done shopping for today. I don't know how you enjoy this."

Only then did he notice how worn out his bunny was.

As soon as you opened the front door, you could sense a delicious aroma going around the apartment. Seonghwa's shoes were on the rack, so you figured he didn't want to wait for Wooyoung to come back and cook.

"Oh baby! Come on, let's head back. We need to decorate our room, pack your stuff, cook dinner.. If Hwa comes home to an empty stove he'll crash out." Wooyoung giggled, and you sensed this wouldn't be the first time he'd made Hwa wait for his meals.

"Hey! Did you have a good time today?" You heard his voice before you rounded the corner trailing behind Wooyoung. Seonghwa was already seated at the kitchen island, a variety of delicious side dishes and a stew spread across the surface.

"We had the best time! Thank you for your money hyung!" Wooyoung placed a kiss on top of Seonghwa's head before sitting down next to him.

"Is this what kisses are like?" The boys looked over at you, and Seonghwa was confused. The cat next to him froze for a second.

"Well, yes. Wooyoung likes to give kisses. You can tell him no if he tries."

"Maybe... Maybe I'd want one too."

The boys looked at each other, a bit surprised. Well, Wooyoung wasn't, because he knew if Seonghwa hadn't come home when he did, you'd be long past kissing. If you asked him, that is.

"Y/N, do you want kisses?" Seonghwa asked.

You nodded, too afraid to speak up. This wasn't something you'd usually do, but looking at how happy they were, you wanted to try it out.

Before Seonghwa could even stand up, Wooyoung was in front of you, holding onto your cheeks. You looked up at him, and his gaze almost made you melt.

"You're gonna get different kisses than Hwa, and I hope that's okay."

You were confused for a second, before you felt it.

The light peck he left on your lips.

It was fast, and it felt more like a soft touch than a real kiss, but it still happened. The two of you looked at each other, and you hoped your cheeks weren't flaming red. Wooyoung's certainly were.

"Hey Woo, you can't just kiss the lady like that. You have to ask for-"

"It's okay, Seonghwa." You interrupted him before he got too angry at the silly cat. Wooyoung let go of you, and you made your way to your potential new owner. You weren't as comfortable with him as you were with your fellow hybrid, but that was expected. You did, however, find him ridiculously beautiful and kind, and you knew your bond would grow stronger.

"I... Wooyoung is the closest thing I've had to a friend in a long time... He makes me feel... Safe. You do as well. I hope you don't mind me doing this, but I want to show you how thankful I am."

You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, catching his eyes afterwards. He was smiling, and his eyes glazed over.

"Thank you, sweetie. I'd also like to give you a little kiss, is that okay?"

You nodded, and Hwa gave you a tender kiss on the cheek as well.

"Oh come on hyung, you call that a kiss?"

"Shut it kitty cat or I'm taking Y/N all to myself tomorrow."

Wooyoung gasped, starting to ramble about how unfair life was, and many other things you couldn't quite catch on.

Dinner was great, and you ate with a smile on your face. The boys helped you unpack afterwards, and Hwa put all of the clothes in the washing machine. Tonight you'd wear something of theirs again, but tomorrow you'll be in your own jumpers and shorts. You chose them yourself, and that was the most important thing.

Afterwards, all three of you took turns in the shower before Hwa came into your room to settle you for the night.

This will be your first night sleeping with Wooyoung, and he looked more than excited.

"Now remember Woo, let the girl breathe. You can cuddle, but you can't squish her. Ask her before you try, please. And no funny business, I'm serious."

Seonghwa looked like a mom scolding her child, but Wooyoung didn't mind. He only nodded, making sure you were settled in before coming closer to your body.

"Can I cuddle you, bunny? Only till I fall asleep, then you can roll me over!"

You nodded, finding it funny how he eagerly made the two of you comfortable. His strong arms wrapped around your middle, and his head rested on top of yours.

"There we go. Kick him if you need to Y/N." Seonghwa stood up and turned on the little night light across the room.

Before he went out, he called your name again.

"I've spoken to a good friend of mine today. He's a hybrid law student, and he's going to help us with your case. We've got the best or the best here, so you'll be officially ours in no time."

Your eyes softened as you watched him, and you couldn't believe somebody you've met a couple days ago would go through such a hassle for you.

"Thank you, Seonghwa. You're the best."

"That he is! Good job hyung!"

"Oh will you let me have a moment with her? Thank you Y/N." He sighed when he saw his cat pouting.

"Thank you Wooyoung. Now go to sleep."

He shut the door to their room and left them to their own devices.

Today was a big day for Y/N, so Wooyoung made sure to tone down the conversation as much as he could. That didn't mean he could stop talking altogether.

"I'm so happy right now I could jump around!"

You smiled. "Please don't, I'm too tired to watch out for you."

"You? For me? Oh that makes me feel special." He laughed.

His arms tightened around you, and he let out a satisfied sigh.

"You're our bunny now... My pretty bunny..."

With that, the two of you fell into a deep sleep, and for the first time in forever...

You didn't have any nightmares.

The Final part will be out sometime next week, so stay tuned to see how their story turns out. :)

Lots of love, and happy reading X

#ateez #ateez imagines #fluff #imagine #ateez seonghwa #ateez wooyoung #hybrid imagine #ateez hybrid au #poly ateez x reader #ateez poly #mature language #mild smut #angst #angst with a happy ending

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angelackless · 1 day ago

Text

LOVER

Joaquin Torres x Stark!reader

"YOU KNOW WHAT,SAM?I CHANGED MY MIND" JOAQUIN STOPPED IN FRONT OF THE TOWER.

"what do you mean you changed your mind?I got you a date with the girl you wouldn't shut up about for months now" Sam stopped to look at him "you can't do this man, she was so excited!"

"she was?" Joaquin asked, his voice filled with hope

"she was, when I told her about you she really seemed interested, and if you bolt right now, Stark gonna beat my ass and then yours when he finds you, and you don't want that,right?"

"I guess no" he shaked his head "alright, i'm just gonna give her this flowers, say she looks pretty and have a fun night with her" Joaquin said, mainly to reassure himself "Yeah, I can do it"

"yes,you can, now get inside pretty boy because I don't want (y/n) to think I pranked her again"

"wait,again?" Joaquin asked as he followed Sam inside the huge tower.

As they arrived at the level where the living room was, he immadetly saw (y/n), and Joaquin felt like he is gonna faint right there, he saw and was with some beautiful woman in his life but, you?hell, he thought he saw a freaking goddess, how the dress that you picked hugged all your curves in all the right places,yeah, he wasn't sure he can keep his hands to himself.I mean, come on, everyone thought (y/n) Stark is gorgeous, and he sure as hell didn't felt ashamed anymore for begging Sam an entire month to set this up.

"Hi, you're Joaquin, right?" you stepped closer to the boy with a kind smile "Sam told me a lot about you"

"only good things I hope" he glanced at Sam for a minute

"just good things" you answered giggling and he had to stop himself from the huge grin that just wanted to appear on his face "really, don't worry, I trust Sam, I know he wouldn't set me up with a bad guy"

"Yeah,yeah, cause i'm not bad, i'm a great great guy" he nodded his head "uhm...you look beautiful by the way, and I got you tulips"

"it's my favorite, thank you" you said as you took the bouquet from him "how did you know?"

"I know a lot of-" then he felt a sharp pain in his side, which was because of Sam elbowing him there "I mean, I asked Sam,yeah, I asked him"

"how about you two get going?the restaurant is not gonna wait for you two all night" Sam interrupted

"Yeah, let's go" Joaquin said and glanced at you "ladies first"

After a thirty minute drive you two arrived at the restaurant, it wasn't that popular nor fancy, which meant the paparazzi wouldn't take pictures of you and your dad, who is on a vacation, won't find out about your date through the internet.

After the waiter led you two to your table, and even got your orders there were a few moment of very very awkward silence, which he decided to break "Sam said that you're in university, what are you studying?"

"Stem" you answered smiling "which is not as cool as your job"

"what?no, don't say that" he shaked his head "I would die in your place, you're much more cooler than me"

"because i'm Tony Stark's daughter?"

"no, because you're you" he answered "you're smart,pretty,you always stand up for what is right,did I mentioned that you're smart? because I think you're incredibly smart" at his words a faint blush appeared on your face accompanied with a giggle

"you barely know me"

"Yeah,well I'm serious about what I said still, besides, I like you"

"you know, I think I like you too, maybe it's weird because we just met, but I feel like i've known you for twenty years" you looked straight into his eyes

"which means I can take you out again?"

"Yeah, you can take me out again" you nodded "but we will go to my place and I cook for us then"

"sounds like a plan" Joaquin winked at you.

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #joaquin torres fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel x you #𝝑𝑒 love letters from sophie

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chdarling · 18 hours ago

Text

Frequently Asked Questions

Hi friends, I've decided to turn my ask box off for a while. This is not in response to any specific ask or any drama, I just can't keep up right now, and I continually feel guilty receiving asks I don't have the energy to answer. I've decided that guilt is not so great for my mental health right now, so I'm taking a wee break and figured I'd post some answers to some of the questions I receive the most.

Snippets and Spoilers can be found here.

***

When will TLE3 be released?

I don't have an exact date, but it probably won't be in 2025. I am giving myself the space and time to write TLE3 at my own pace and pleasure, and I plan to have a full draft finished before I start publishing on AO3. I promise when it's ready, you'll be the first to know.

***

Can I print TLE?

Please do not print TLE using any commercial printing service, as this is not legal (at least in the US, which is where I am). If you are printing and binding it yourself solely for personal use and in a manner that is 100% in compliance with copyright law – aka no one at any point in the process can make any money off of it – then I personally am fine with it (and very honored!). However, I cannot give approval for anything that infringes copyright law in any way. Thank you for understanding! I don't want to be sued!

***

Can I translate/create a podfic/create fanart for TLE?

I would be so unbelievably honored! I give a blanket approval for translations, podfics, and fanart, and I'm so, so touched that you would take the time to do this. I just ask that you ONLY post to AO3* and to please mark it as a related work so it's linked to the original. I may be slow to approve the AO3 email linking the fics, but I promise I will! Thank you!!

*except fanart, obviously. Do whatever you want with that. Although if you post it on tumblr, I would LOVE to see it. <3

***

Are you on any other social media sites?

No. I am ONLY on Tumblr, AO3, and the TLE discord. I don’t even use social media in my personal life, so don't try to find me! I'm not there!

***

Do you have fanfic recommendations?

I’m sorry, but I am not a good resource for this. I haven't actually read much fanfic as I spend most of my limited free time writing it. However, I always recommend checking out @jilyawards for a fantastic collection of the incredible talent in this fandom over the years.

***

Do you take requests for one shots/other fics?

No, sorry. I have my hands more than full with TLE.

***

Do you take suggestions for the plot of TLE?

No, sorry. I have the story pretty tightly plotted from beginning until the (very) end, and while I occasionally swerve down new creative alleys, I’m very committed to sticking to my original plan.

***

Is [super specific spoilery thing] going to happen in TLE?

You are of course welcome to ask, but I am almost certainly going to shout “SPOILERS!” and run away cackling.

***

You say this is a canon fic but [super specific thing that I don’t agree with] is included. What gives?

For the purposes of TLE, ‘canon’ means the original seven books. Everything else is dressing. I do include as canon a lot of the lore JKR provided in interviews while the books were being published (for example, James being a Chaser), however I tend to view all post-book authorial additions as mostly optional. I do use a fair amount of Pottermore in my story, but I do not keep up with new HP material, so it’s impossible to stay up to date with everything. For example, I tweaked the Animagus process somewhat to my liking as opposed to what is described in Pottermore. This is partly because I already had my version sketched out before that was published, and mostly because I did not like what was given on Pottermore.

I do not consider any of the films canon. If this alleged HBO show happens, I will not consider that canon. Video game? Not canon. I also simply do not know what the words ‘Cursed Child’ mean, as I am pretty sure this is from an alternate timeline in which I do not exist. Tra la la. :)

All of this to say: The seven books are the framework. However, I feel pretty strongly that within that framework there is room for many, many interpretations – particularly with regards to the Marauders era, about which we know so little. Just because my headcanon or characterization is different from yours (or vice versa!) doesn’t make it less canon. Similarly, just because something is not explicitly described in the seven books, doesn’t mean it is against canon for it to have happened in the background, unnoticed by Harry, or before the timeline of the seven books starts. See: Wolfstar.

***

Wait, there’s wolfstar in TLE?

Yes. There will be wolfstar in the series. I did tag it from day one, please stop sending me shocked and horrified messages! (lol) Because people have such strong feelings about this ship, I always feel the need to give my little disclaimer: There will be wolfstar. Personally, I love it and am excited to write it. However, if you are a fan of exclusively fluffy, happy wolfstar, you might be disappointed. If you are interested in exploring the fraught, occasionally toxic relationship between two angsty, repressed, and deeply traumatized young men during an escalating war…strap in, gird your loins, etc. We're gonna have some fun.

***

Why do you have two blogs?

Because I'm dumb. Because I didn’t know how tumblr worked when I started this whole nonsense and thought that a side blog sounded like a good idea…aaaaand then pretty much immediately regretted it. This was back before you could reply from a sideblog, so everything was a mess. I'm an archivist at heart, so I can't bring myself to delete @chdarling-tle but I almost exclusively use @chdarling these days. Feel free to only follow that one, unless you only want chapter updates and none of my silly reblogs, in which case @chdarling-tle is here for you. Otherwise it's pretty dead over there.

(ok, confession: this actually isn't a frequently asked question at all, but I shoved it in here anyway because the two blog thing annoys the shit out of me and I wanted to give some context for my disorganization. I meant well, once upon a time!!!)

***

Do you have a Patreon?

I’m amazed and flattered that I’ve been asked this enough to include it in an FAQ, but no, I do not. While I am so appreciative that people want to support this project, TLE is a work of fanfiction, created entirely out of and for love, and is in no way a commercial endeavor. I do not make a penny off of this project. I almost certainly lose pennies to this project. But that's okay! Because of the aforementioned love! And, once again, my deep and enduring desire to not be sued!

(One day I do hope to share some original writing, and if you feel so compelled, you may absolutely pay me for that, but I'm not quite there yet. 😉)

***

Ok but seriously when will TLE3 be released?

(sorry I couldn't resist)

***

Ok that's all I can think of right now. Thank you so much as always for your enthusiasm and support. My closed ask box is in no way a commentary on my appreciation for this community, I'm just very, very tired.

lots of love, CH

#ch answers #tle

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ssentimentals · 1 day ago

Note

Hiii!! It is been a long time since i got here 🤧, I hope you are doing good. I saw the new request prompts and the number 47. Sickfic/caretaking has attracted my attention, so I was going to ask you if you could write a woozi x reader who has bad migraines and maybe it is mixed this time with back pain.

You can change it if it is too specific or do not do it if you don't feel like it!!

hiii angel, you should come here more often 💜 i am good, hope you're well too! i definitely can, thank you for requesting!

prompt: sickfic/caretaking

woozi could see it. you tried your best to hide it and he gotta give it to you - it took him few days to catch up. he hates how you go all out to help and support others, but don't let others do the same for you, always ignoring your problems because they are not 'big enough'. he knows that probability of you admitting you're in pain is as low as snow during summer, but he still tries: 'how are you feeling, babe?'

you look up from your laptop, your face illluminated by blue screen. you were grimacing few seconds earlier but now you're trying to smile at him: 'all good, just a bit tired.'

your lie falls flat. woozi is always careful, always tries not to voerstep and make you start lecturing him on whole 'i am independent and strong woman, i can take care of myself' thing but his patience snaps. without saying anything he comes closer and points at your laptop: 'save your work. save your work and close your laptop.'

you blink at him. 'what-'

'do it yourself before i take that laptop away and just turn it off without saving shit,' he bites, not caring that his tone is off. 'you work can wait, we need to stop your migraine first.' at this your eyes widen and woozi quirks an eyebrow at you: 'you hid those pills well, baby, but not well enough.'

you have nothing to say. those migraines started few days ago and yesterday they got so bad that your eyes dtarted watering against your will. add back pain on top of that and you turned into a one big exposed nerve and you knew that your boyfriend saw right through you and your attempts to hide it. lie that you're fine is on your tongue but you swallow it, following woozi to the bedroom. you don't like admitting but it feels nice to be taken care of, to have someone else fret over you. woozi is not very expressive, but you can feel all of his feelings even when he doesn't say much. right now you know that he's worried and annoyed at your for not saying anything, for example.

'we can try cold and hot packs on your neck, which one do you prefer?' he asks in a business tone. when you get under the covers, his hands instantly smooth the blanket and he fluffs the other pillow, making sure you're comfortable. 'i'll turn off the light, do you want lavender oil? i'm not giving you another pill, i'm sure you've taken plenty already.'

'cold pack,' you answer, grimacing when back echoes in pain once you fully lie down. 'and no oil for now, i think.'

woozi nods and quickly gets to work. in few minutes you have cold pack pressed to your neck, light turned off and window open. he places cup with a herbal tea nearby and gingerly lies down. woozi is not used to seeing you like this - his usually strong girl never looks this fragile. it pains and angers him; he reaches out to take your hand in his. 'never hide this from me,' he asks quietly with a slight tremor in his voice. 'i don't want you to suffer alone. i'm always here to help you.'

'it's just a migraine,' you whisper and a sudden pain that shoots from your neck straight to your head makes you gasp. 'oh god.'

'nothing is 'just' when it comes to you,' he mutters and leans closer, worried. 'is cold pack not helping? if it's very bad-'

'give it time,' you interrupt. 'ten minutes or so. we can change it to hot pack if this one won't work.' you open your eyes, squinting at him. 'i am sorry for not telling you sooner. i thought it'd go away. didn't want to bother you.'

'you never bother me,' he instantly says, scowling. 'stop thinking that. nothing about you is ever a bother. let me take care of you.'

you sigh and close your eyes. a bit later you feel cold lips pressed on your forehead. woozi kisses your forehead, tip of your nose, both of your cheeks. you smile and lips press on yours in a light kiss. 'try to sleep,' woozi whispers. 'i will change packs. rest, baby.'

'i love you,' you whisper back without opening your eyes. cold pack helps with the tension, easing the pain. 'thank you.'

'i love you more, my strong girl.' woozi kisses your forehead once more. 'now rest. i'll be right here when you wake up.'

putting his phone on 'do not disturb' woozi lies down next to you and carefully wraps one arm around you. he'll be right here for you even if you can't ask that out loud. he'll still be here.

a/n: hopefully you liked it!! - nini

request your own here

my other seventeen work is here

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m4rv3l-girl · 1 day ago

Note

Bucky x reader are having a baby but noone knows yet

Reader can feel her belly get chubby and while in the kitchen grabbing a snack, sharon and a few other agents comment on it and say if reader keeps gaining weight bucky won't be interested, reader leaves the snack and goes back thier shared room and hides away, bucky hears the quiet sobs and immediately rushes to you and asks what's wrong, you explain that you overheard someone talking about you but wouldn't say who but bucky finds out and makes a Big scene and spills the secret of your baby

Warnings: Mentions of body shaming. Major fluff.

A Secret Worth Spilling

Bucky had always been observant. Centuries of war, survival, and just existing as a man out of time had taught him how to notice things others didn’t. That’s why, despite the general hustle of the compound and the distraction of another one of Sam’s exasperated rants in the common area, he knew something was wrong before he even set foot in your shared room.

It was too quiet.

You weren’t the loudest person in the world, but you always made little sounds. The shuffling of your feet, the quiet hum of a song stuck in your head, the soft way you murmured to yourself when reading or cooking—Bucky had learned all these sounds by heart.

And right now? Nothing.

His brows furrowed, unease curling in his gut as he stepped into the room. That’s when he heard it.

A sniffle. A shaky inhale. Then, a muffled sob.

His stomach dropped.

"Doll?" His voice was soft, careful, as he shut the door behind him. No answer. Another sniffle.

Bucky immediately crossed the room, kneeling in front of where you had curled up on the bed, arms wrapped protectively around your midsection.

"Sweetheart, what’s wrong?"

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. "Nothing. It’s stupid."

Bucky tilted his head, concern etched deep into his expression. "You’re crying, which means it ain’t stupid."

You swallowed hard, trying to suppress another wave of emotion, but your chest still trembled with the effort. Bucky reached out, his flesh hand tracing gentle circles on your knee while his vibranium fingers remained still - he always made sure to be gentle with you, no matter which hand he used.

"C’mon, baby. Talk to me."

You exhaled shakily, rubbing your hands over your arms as if to shield yourself from the words still ringing in your ears. "I was in the kitchen," you started, your voice small. "Just grabbing a snack."

Bucky waited patiently, nodding for you to continue.

"Sharon and a couple of the agents were there," you admitted, not meeting his gaze. "They…they made comments. About me. About-" Your voice wavered, and Bucky felt his jaw tighten. "About my weight."

His fingers twitched against your knee. "What did they say?"

You hesitated, clearly not wanting to repeat it. But Bucky could tell from the fresh tears pooling in your eyes that it was eating at you. He hated that.

"They said if I kept gaining weight, you wouldn’t be interested anymore."

Silence.

Bucky stared at you, unblinking, while his mind processed what he’d just heard. Then, something cold settled in his chest. A mixture of disbelief, fury, and something else—something raw.

"You believe that?" His voice was quiet, but there was something dangerously sharp underneath.

"No!" You rushed to say, shaking your head. "I mean—I don’t know. I wasn’t even thinking about it until they—" Your breath hitched. "I left the snack. I just—I couldn’t."

Bucky’s heart clenched. You were pregnant. Carrying his baby. And yet, you’d rather starve yourself than risk gaining weight because of some cruel words?

"Doll," he breathed, cupping your face with both hands. "Listen to me. And I mean really listen, alright?"

You nodded hesitantly, eyes wide.

"I love you. I love every single inch of you. Always have, always will." His thumb stroked your cheek. "And this?" He placed his vibranium hand over your stomach, the smallest of bumps already noticeable beneath your sweater. "This is the most beautiful thing in the world to me. Because it means we’re bringing a life into this world together."

Your lower lip wobbled.

"If you think for one goddamn second that I’d ever stop loving you because of some weight, then, sweetheart, we got bigger problems than a couple of bitter agents with too much time on their hands."

A teary laugh bubbled out of you, and Bucky grinned at the sound.

"Now, you’re gonna tell me exactly who said it," he continued, "or I’m gonna find out myself. And trust me, sweetheart, I will find out."

Your silence was answer enough.

Bucky exhaled through his nose, jaw clenching. "Alright then."

He pressed a firm kiss to your forehead before standing, rolling his shoulders as his expression darkened. He was going to find Sharon. And when he did?

Well. He’d always been good at making an impression.

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Bucky found Sharon in the common area, chatting with a couple of agents. They barely noticed him until he strode right up to their group, arms crossed, expression dark.

"Which one of you idiots decided it was a good idea to make my girl feel like shit?"

Silence.

Sharon’s eyes darted around slightly. "Bucky, I don’t know what-”

"Cut the crap, Carter," he snapped. "I know what you said. And I swear to god, if any of you so much as look at Y/N the wrong way again, I’ll make sure your next mission is somewhere real fun - like Siberia."

Murmurs of unease rippled through the group. Sam, who had been watching from the couch, arched an eyebrow. "Damn, Barnes. Didn’t take you for the dramatic type."

Bucky ignored him. "And for the record?" His voice carried through the room. "She’s not just ‘gaining weight.’ She’s pregnant. With my kid. She’s carrying My Baby. And if any of you have something to say, now would be the time because I’m ticked the heck off."

More silence.

Then-

"Oh," Sharon said weakly. "Shit."

"Yeah," Bucky scoffed, shaking his head. "Crap."

“Why are you…speaking like that?” One agent asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Need to practice not swearing, got a little one on the way.” He said sternly.

With that, he turned on his heel and made his way back to you without another word, not without grabbing a chocolate bar for you of course. The room remained dead silent in his wake.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

When Bucky returned, you were still sitting on the bed, eyes wide. You had heard the yelling. "You told them?"

Bucky shrugged, plopping down beside you. "They ticked me off."

You snorted. "Oh, so you just announced our baby to the whole compound?"

"Pretty much."

Despite yourself, you laughed and leaned into him. "Guess the secret’s out now."

Bucky pressed a kiss to your temple, his flesh hand settling over your stomach once more. "Damn right it is. And I couldn’t be prouder."

You sighed contentedly, letting the warmth of his presence soothe you. Bucky held you close, already planning exactly how he was going to make it up to you for even a second of doubt.

And judging by the way his fingers brushed over your skin, it was going to be a very thorough apology.

——————————————————————————————————

Here you go! 🫱🫶

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #marvel #bucky fluff #soft bucky #fluffy

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brittle-doughie · 2 days ago

Note

(Sorry if my English is wrong, because I'm using a translator)

Man, I'm a recent fan of your content since I started playing CRK again just a whole month ago because of Shadow Milk Cookie (Whoever I can catch with 120 pulls, the same number I caught the awesome Vanilla Lol) and let's just say I stalked your account and stuff... But what I can say is that your writing is very unique and pleasant to read since there are no long descriptions, something I love but sometimes my brain bugs out and stuff, and then I realize that you put love into your content

But anyway, enough of the rambling and fangirling and let's get straight to the content I want to comment on:

Today's Soul Jam victim Y/N -

What we know about them: A Soul Jam created alongside the others but unlike them, they don't have a Cookie but rather have a form and they show resentment (hatred in its purest form) that the other Soul Jams have receptacles

My idea:

As I know, Soul Jam's were created and given to the Beasts before they collapsed, and with that comes my idea of what if Soul Jam Y/N also had a Beast

The relationship between the two was very different from the others because they interacted at every opportunity, had inside jokes, judged the other cookies and even the witches, and to the point that their Hero nicknamed them 'Y/N'

Everyone could see that they had a special bond, a bond that no other hero and Soul Jam had

But then the corruption happens, one by one the heroes fall, all except Y/N's hero, they were the only one left standing, the only one who resisted the corruption...

Because of this, the witches asked the hero to stop those who were once their friends, at first they didn't know what to do "They're my friends! But they're hurting the other cookies! But the other cookies also made big requests! What should I do?!" So they asked for time to think, something very short at the moment and had a conversation with Soul Jam Y/N

"What should I do Y/N...?"

"...This is a decision that I would say is easy from the outside point of view, but from the inside it is the hardest to make..."

"... So there is no answer...?"

"There is an answer, this answer will be the right one, I trust you ██████ Cookie!"

"Heh... thanks but I don't know... What if I make the wrong choice instead of the right one, what if I make the right choice for others and make the wrong one for my friends! I don't want to hurt them, they're already hurt by the cruel fate of immortality"

"You're a kind cookie, I'm sure you'll manage"

"...What if it was all my fault..."

"Hmm..?"

"What if I had been a better friend, noticed the signs earlier, stopped them in time... Maybe they wouldn't have to do this, maybe everything could be the same as before..."

"It's not like that-"

"It would have been better if I was the one to be corrupted..."

" ██████ Cookie!"

"I'm sorry Y/N, but I've already made up my mind, I'll go with them, I'll be sealed with them, but don't worry okay? You won't get caught, you can live your life and find a better cookie than me to be your user"

"Wait ██████ Cookie! Don't go!"

"Goodbye Y/N, I hope you can discover new things in this incredible world"

That was the last conversation the hero and Soul Jam Y/N had, the hero agreed to help the witches in exchange for being sealed with his friends, something that was conceived, during the purity of the Soul Jam's they did not purify Y/N because they were not corrupted

But then why did Y/N feel empty? Why did they feel like everything was wrong? Why did they feel like crying when they didn't even have a body? Why was ██████ Cookie gone?

Time passed and the other Soul Jam's found new users, but Y/N was left in the dark

They felt jealous of their companions, of how they moved on while they still mourned the loss of their Hero, of how they gave their power to their Heroes, while Y/N remembered the times when her Hero borrowed her power to help their friends, how they guide them to the right path, while Y/N remembers all the times they and their Hero would talk through sleepless nights when everyone else was asleep, how they would guide their Heroes through their darkest moments, while Y/N couldn't see him one last time properly

They were jealous, they wanted a Hero, but at the same time they couldn't, they couldn't move on, they couldn't accept another Hero, they couldn't find another cookie as their Hero

So they thought, if I can't have a Hero why can't I be my Hero?

So they did it, created their cookie form and bam! They could walk, touch and feel the Bread Land without any effort!

But at the same time, they hoped to find their Hero once again, maybe they could be like they were before...

Tadaa~ So what did you think of my idea?

-Just a Person

I think it’s a solid enough foundation.

#brittle answers

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legendofmorons · 2 days ago

Note

Yooooo happy 2 year anniversary!!! As for the fic bingo,

SOULMATE AU WITH LEGEND I AM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

I'm so normal about him I promise

Thank you!!!

I'm al SO normal about Legend ;)

(Soul) Marked hearts

Pairing: Legend x reader

Rating: T

Summary: In a world where you have the most important thing your soulmate says to you, printed somewhere on your body... you realize the man you love (and have loved for years) is your soulmate.

Warnings: cursing

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know

-------

You sit by the fire, side by side with your long time friend Legend. Cool summer night breezes lazily pass by as the star shin above you.

The others sleep peacefully as your shift of watch drags on.

"You didn't have to take watch with me." You say to him.

Legend shrugs half heartedly. "You get bored."

"I do." You smile.

He snorts, elbowing you gently.

You just roll tour eyes, leaning against him. It's one of the many privileges you are afforded as someone close to him.

Legend wraps one arm around you, staring out at the stars as everyone else sleeps. He rests his hand on your arm, the metal of his rings cooler than his flesh.

It's easy, being here with him. The way your mind wanders to what a life with him might entail is... nothing new.

You soak up the warmth and ease that radiates off him. This is something reserved for you.

Legend is a sweetheart. Under the jaded attitude, he's still kind. He's earned the right to be jaded. But here? When it's just the two of you?

He is always more open with you like this. He's comfortable enough with you to be softer. Comfort enough to be affectionate.

"Did you ever find your soulmate?" He asks you. "I know you wanted to."

You laugh. "Not yet. I... don't know that I care, either. You know?"

"I do."

"Oh?" You prompt, "Is there someone you want to pursue, bunny boy?"

"That's not my name." Legend huffs. He gives you a playful glare, too.

You smile. "Answer the question."

"Maybe. It's... not important. I don't think I have a chance." Legend pulls you closer.

You lean with it, humming. "Why not?"

"I doubt I'm their soulmate. You know the world we live in." He gives a half shrug.

His tone is bitter, and he sounds genuinely resigned to a fate without whoever it is he is talking about.

You fall silent, searching the fire for answers as if it can reassure you. What are you supposed to say?

You can't let yourself hope he's talking about you.

The urge to reassure him is stringer than any jealousy you have over a man that isn't yours. You love him, you don't want him upset.

"Well... Fuck em." You offer and smile at him, "If they don't feel the same their a total fool."

"Really? That's all you got?" He huffs, raising one brow.

"Yep." You say, poping the 'p'.

Legend stares at you with unreadable eyes. He looks at you, searching for something but you can't say what.

He looks back to the stars.

You settle back down against him.

Legend rubs your arm with his hand where it rests, arm still around you like a promise.

You don't know what it's a promise of, just that it is.

Minutes pass, silent companionship a steady beat in your heart.

Legend finally asks, "If... I tell you something, you can't laugh at me. Okay?"

"I make no promises." You say immediately. "When people say that they tell me things that make me laugh."

"It's not a joke." Legend says.

His voice is firm, but his frame shakes slightly against you.

You frown, pulling out of his hold and sitting up on your own. You watch his face for any hint of what he wants to say.

"I'm listening." You tell him. "I won't laugh."

"Did you mean what you said, that I should tell them?" Legend asks, voice quiet and shaking.

You offer a nod.

He looks at you with a vulnerability you rarely see on him. He looks sea sick.

"Okay." He says, letting out a breath.

"Take your time." You soothe. "It's okay."

Legend nods weakly. He is looking directly into your eyes.

He takes a deep breath, setting his shoulders before he speaks.

"I don't care if you're my soulmate, I chose you. You're who I want at my side, as my partner, as my spouse if you want to get married." He says, voice firm even as he looks ready to run.

You let out a gasp.

He watches you, hands shaking as he fists them in his lap.

You know those words.

Those are the words that's are printed on one of your shoulder blades.

Legend said-

Oh.

"Fuck, man." You breathe out.

You want to laugh a little. You don't, but the surprise is there.

Legend flinches.

"It's really you, Link." You say in awe, "You're the one."

He blinks, confusion flitting across his face. "What?"

"It's your words on me. It's you!" You smile.

His breath catches. He knows those words. Those are the words printed on his sternum.

You're hugging him quickly, heart beating too fast as you knock your knee against his in the movement.

Legend hugs you back on reflex, sucking in a breath. "We're so stupid."

You laugh softly, setting your forehead on his shoulder. "We're soulmates."

"I'm glad it's you." Legend decides.

You grin, pulling away to look at him again. "How long can we go before the others realize we're together?"

"We're together now?" Legend asks with a smirk.

"Yes." You say, taking his hand in your own. "You're mine forever, bunny boy."

"Only if you're mine too."

"Good." You say, pulling his hand to up and pressing a kiss to it.

"Sap." He acusses. Then he gives you a smirk. "We could probably go for a week or two before they put it together."

You laugh, "Yeah?"

"Absolutely."

You lean against him again, setting your joined hands on your thigh. "This is nice."

He hums, "It is."

"For what it's worth... I chose you too, Link."

He smiles, face red. "Yeah?"

"Forever."

Legend hums once. "Forever sounds... great."

You smile up at him.

He means it, too. He knows he's prickly and he has bad days, but if you'll have him he'll stay with you. Forever.

#misty writes #2 year anniversary fic bingo #lu legend x reader #linked universe x reader

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captain-huggy-bear · 20 hours ago

Note

Taking a bath or relaxing shower with Kesselring? Just something to take the edge of the day off and reconnect.

Oh you know he'd be too big for the tub. Has to seriously start considering a bathroom renovation because he wants to spend more time in there with you and doesn't want cold toes or cold knees. Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

"How'd you feel?" You ask Michael as soon as he enters the house, hockey bag being dumped by the front door. He's slumped over, all 6ft 5 of him, arms heavy, eyes tired and you know he must be hurting. You'd watched the game, seen the hits he took tonight...the fight as well. A night of his body taking an absolute beating.

"Like I got hit by a truck..." He falls into your arms, head flopping onto your shoulder, having to hunch over to do so in a way that you're certain cannot be comfortable. Still you wrap your arms around him, hands rubbing up and down his back to provide some comfort as he huffs against your neck.

"Or a 200lb hockey player into the boards?" You can still hear the hit, solid, impactful...his body no doubt bruised from the shoulders all the way to the toes. The way he'd taken a moment to even get up had scared you at the time, but having him here was reassuring, made you feel better about it.

"Yeah, that too, baby..."

"You want me to run you a bath? Soak your muscles a little?" You pull back despite his protests, just enough to look him in the eyes. He looks absolutely shattered, so tired you're surprised he's still standing.

"That sounds good, baby...but only if you join." The smile he gives you is cheeky but subdued, like he doesn't have the energy to commit fully to the flirty comment. Brown eyes blinking slow, sighing out each word.

"Michael." You raise an eyebrow at him, smiling because there's no way you'd both fit in the tub...not comfortably anyway.

"What?"

"You barely fit in the tub by yourself..."

"Trust me, we'll both fit." He tugs you back close again, large hands pressing into your lower back to keep you flush against his body. A sort of energy starting to fill him just from your presence.

"We will not."

"Please, baby? Just want to have a bath with my girl..." Michael's not opposed to begging and tonight is no exception, turning the puppy dog eyes and pout on you until you cave because the last thing you want to do is deny him anything. Especially after a rough game.

"Okay. Fine, but I'm telling you we won't fit."

You lead him to the bathroom, forcing him to sit on the closed toilet seat while you run the bathtub with hot water and throw in some bubble bath, the kind that says it supposed to help with aching muscles...even if there's no science to back it.

"C'mon, clothes off, Mike."

"Knew you wanted to see me naked."

"Did you plan to get in the bath fully clothed?" You retort even as you shake your head at him in amusement. That amusement fades when his clothes are shed, his body is already black and blue, massive purple bruises across his entire body that make you hiss, fingertips reaching out but stopping short.

"Baby..."

"I'm okay, promise...had worse." You accept his answer even if you don't like it because you know he's right. It's not the first set of bruises he's had from a game and it won't be the last, the fact he can move around, joke about is enough to remind you that he's okay...even if he doesn't look it.

When Michael gets in the tub he's all arms and legs, knees having to bend to get his legs to fit, half his torso out of the water and the water level dangerously high already. The space between his legs does not look big enough for you and the water looks like it's one drop away from displacing all over the floor.

"Michael...I'm not going to fit."

"Yes, you will. You said you'd join me, angel...c'mon...please?" The puppy dog eyes are far too effective a tactic for your liking, once again you find yourself conceding.

Your clothes come off, Michael's eyes dragging down your form appreciatively even as you shake your head at him for being such a man.

When you step into the water his hands come up to your hips to steady you, long fingers digging slightly into the plush of your hips before helping you lower yourself to sit between his legs.

There's a moment where you're certain the water will overflow, flooding the bathroom, but the overflow pipe does the job it's designed for and you're safe.

It allows you a moment to relax back against Michael, head leaning against his shoulder as his fingers trace circles on your arms where you rest them on his knees.

"This is all I wanted, y'know? Just this." His voice is soft and quiet as he presses a kiss to your shoulder, then another...and another. Soft, sweet, not designed to do anything but shower you in his love as the two of you melt into warm water and you wonder why you were ever so reluctant to try this.

"You just wanted me naked..."

"Mmm, that too..." He laughs at you, Michael's hands never straying anywhere even slightly sexual. He could, if he wanted to, but it seems to be the furthest thing from his mind. It's nice, that you can just exist together like that, intimate but without the need for it to go that way, "But, seriously. I just...just needed time with you, just us..." Another kiss lands on your neck, ticklish in a way that has you huffing out a laugh.

"I like this." You turn your neck to look up at him, reaching just enough to kiss his jaw, the stubble that had started to grow there scratching your lips.

"Told you we'd fit." He's smug, smirking down at you. But, his eyes are still soft, no real I told you so in his eyes, just happy to be there with you.

"Still up for debate, you can't straighten your legs and still have your toes in the water." His feet would stick straight out, proof that this tub was simply not made for a man of his size.

"Semantics,"

#huggy bear writes #michael kesselring x reader #michael kesselring #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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elene78-blog · 1 day ago

Text

Jean in Palmetto

I think Jean will visit Palmetto in the next book, maybe over winter break. It will be a short visit where he will officially close his chapter with Renee and indirectly help Neil with the rookie Foxes who are stirring.

I imagine Jean saying calmly:

"Why do you allow this, (insert Jean-esque insult to Neil here)? When you got here you took down the first Fox that gave you trouble before the season started. Are you becoming a softie?"

This in front of the newbies who, logically, think that Neil killed Seth immediately and suddenly remember that Neil is the Butcher's son. Neil humors Jean and the problems with the newbies are over. Simple, fast and effective.

And then comes the real reason for Jean's visit.

"I need a favor," he will say to Neil, who will raise an eyebrow curiously. "The Wilshires. I need to know all the dirt under their fingernails."

"Are they putting you in danger?" Neil will ask. Jean won't answer, but Andrew will be there.

"Knox" Andrew will say.

"You're like an old gossip," Jean will tell Andrew.

"Are you going to try to hit the Wilshires?" Kevin will ask, absolutely shocked by this decision. "You're not serious. They are powerful politicians."

"They're hurting Jeremy." Jean will say for all explanation.

"Jeremy can take care of that. He's done it all this time. You're not going to do anything about it because it can quickly turn against you. Let Jeremy..."

"No," Jean will settle. Kevin's eyes will open wide. "Can you get me the information, or not?"

"Jean..." Kevin will say, a little angry.

"I'll send it to you in a few days," Neil will say, fueling Kevin's anger.

"You're not going to do anything with it, no matter what I send you. You can't..."

Jean will cut Kevin off abruptly.

"I'll do whatever I want, Kevin. You can't stop me."

"I can." Kevin will say with complete confidence.

"No. Not anymore." Jean will say, and ignore Kevin. Kevin will remain silent, analyzing this unexpected turn of events.

When Jean leaves Palmetto a while later, Kevin will escort him to the airport with Andrew close behind. Before leaving, he will tell Jean.

"I should have known that Jeremy fixation would come back to kick our asses. He ruined you once, Jean. You shouldn't feed him." Kevin will tell you. Jean will stare at him once more.

"It wasn't him. It was you." Jean will admit. Kevin won't be sure what Jean means, although Andrew, who has accompanied them to the airport, will know right away. Jean will analyze Kevin's expressions carefully. He will smile sincerely because, although he knows what made is fall in love with Kevin in The Nest, he doesn't see it now. Kevin is no longer that Kevin... Or Jean is no longer that Jean. "But not anymore. Never again."

Jean will leave feeling great satisfaction in the pit of his stomach.

"We'll see you in the final."

And Kevin will have no doubts about it.

#jean moreau #jeremy knox #the sunshine court #all for the game #the golden raven #tsc #tgr #aftg #jerejean #neil josten #kevin day #andrew minyard

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wlwnarusaru · 1 day ago

Text

something kabuto said caught my attention when i was reading kabuto vs. the uchiha brothers' fight, and it was this panel right here.

"you can read other people's feelings"

this really struck me, especially after looking back at itachi and naruto's talk in chapter 366.

itachi asked naruto, why does he care so much about sasuke when he literally abandoned him. (in other translations, he asked naruto why was he so obsessed with sasuke). naruto got mad, basically saying that for him, sasuke was like his brother and told itachi he was a better brother than he ever were.

in the next panel, itachi has a speech bubble with dots, indicating he wanted to say something but chose not to. then, he smiled as if he knew something. interestingly, kishi only drew his mouth, not his eyes.

in chapter 403, naruto thought about his conversation with itachi which made me a bit more suspicious.

itachi asked naruto, what would he do if sasuke refused to come back to the village in which naruto replies that he'll do whatever it takes to bring him back.

"you just said sasuke is like a brother to you. im asking what you'd do if your 'brother' attacked konoha."

the first thing that caught my eye was the punctuation " " between the brother and the second thing i've noticed is that it almost sounded like itachi was mocking naruto and the emphasize on " " between the word, brother, only added to the fuel.

what we know so far is that itachi could read people's emotions with his eyes. he smiled and mocked naruto for calling sasuke his brother.

in these panels, to me it looks like itachi was playing a little with naruto's feelings, trying to get a reaction out of him by asking if he would be able to stop sasuke, even if it meant killing him.

just look at naruto's face, itachi definitely touched a nerve there. but what made me pause and think was itachi's next sentence.

"can you choose between sasuke and konoha?"

he read naruto's feelings for sasuke, smiled, mocked him, and then asked if he would be able to kill him and / or if he would be able to choose between sasuke and the village they both protected. this clearly indicates that for naruto sasuke was someone so precious that it made itachi doubt and ask that question.

the real question is:

could naruto really choose between sasuke and konoha?

yes, he could, and he admitted it himself in kage summit arc. naruto searched for the raikage and pleaded him to stop sasuke's execution.

mind you, a few chapters back, he told people, for example, nagato, that killing anyone for revenge was wrong and promised them that he'll change the world of hatred. yet here he was threatening the raikage that if he doesn't spare sasuke's life, there will be war between konoha and kumo.

it clearly shows here that he was speaking more for himself instead of the whole village, who also became wary about sasuke. he was willing to sacrifice konoha for sasuke.

naruto started pleading the raikage on his knees, begging him to spare sasuke's life, but at the same time threatening him and his village, trying to justify sasuke's actions and his desire for revenge and started crying in front of everyone.

the raikage mentioned how oddly naruto acted and basically called him out by saying that it is not normal for a shinobi to beg for a criminal's life.

in the end, naruto himself answers itachi's question.

he would choose sasuke over konoha in a heartbeat.

in that chapter, itachi also told naruto how he was still acting like a child and how he needed to realize that he would be forced to make impossible decisions like this. naruto confessed that there was someone else (jiraiya), who told him the same thing, but naruto has made his choice and he won't go back on his word because that's his ninja way. itachi smiled knowingly / warmly at naruto's response. he knew naruto would do anything in his power to save sasuke, and he knew how deeply he cared for him.

also, the right person that could paint sasuke's blank canvas in every color the person wanted was definitely naruto. naruto, who never gave up on sasuke, who sacrificed himself but also konoha for sasuke, who fought everyone who spoke ill of sasuke, who was willing to die with him, who saved sasuke from the dark, painting sasuke in every color, in a new light.

#sns #sasunaru #narusasu #naruto x sasuke #naruto #itachi number one sns fan

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christopherisfoive · 3 days ago

Text

Cold Burn (Chapter 4)

!idol reader x Seungmin; enemies to lovers

Word Count: (It literally won't let me move it from here lol)

Note: I wrote this super late last night and tried to edit my best but sorry if there are any mistakes, going back to drafting on docs because tumblr hates me. It has been a long week. Thank you for reading, I appreciate it <3 (it will eventually make sense i promise)

Masterlist

The city was alive with the midday rush, bustling streets and flashing signs lining every corner. It should’ve felt freeing after being cooped up in venues and hotels for the past few weeks, but even with the fresh air, I still felt off.

I adjusted my mask, letting my hood cast a shadow over my face as I followed behind my group.

It was supposed to be a day off.

But my mind was still playing back every mistake I’d made on stage during the tour.

I should have been enjoying this break. But instead, I was still holding onto every mistake, every moment that made me feel like I was losing control.

And then, like perfectly timed chaos, I heard it—the sound of cameras clicking.

Whispers turned into excited calls.

I instinctively pulled my hood lower, keeping my face neutral as the others started interacting.

A group of fans and paparazzi had spotted us, and before I could even process it, they were already approaching fast.

"Oh my god, it’s Stray Kids and Stellar!" one girl squealed, phone already out.

The energy shifted immediately.

Han, Hyunjin, and Leah engaged easily, smiling and waving. Bang Chan answered a few quick questions, even as security started stepping in to maintain a barrier.

Then came the actual questions.

"Y/N! Can you talk about your solo stage? People said it didn’t seem like your usual energy!"

"Is it true you don’t like performing live?"

"Are you okay? You seemed out of sync in the last show!"

I ignored them.

I always ignored them.

Instead, I kept walking, keeping my gaze forward, shoulders tense under my hoodie.

That was all it took to shift the crowd’s mood.

People started stepping in front of me, blocking my path, shoving phones and cameras in my direction.

The excitement turned to pushy persistence.

"Why won’t you say anything?"

"Y/N, just one word for your fans?"

I clenched my jaw and sidestepped them, but it was too late.

Someone moved in too close.

Before I could react, a fan—a girl, maybe late teens, wearing a hoodie with our group’s name on it—stepped right into my space.

"Why do you always ignore us?" Her voice was sharp, demanding.

I took a step back, my pulse spiking. Too close. Way too close.

She didn't stop. "Other idols talk to their fans. What’s your problem?"

Before I could respond—before I could even process how uncomfortable I felt—she lifted her phone closer to my face, snapping a photo at point-blank range.

I barely kept my composure, my breath hitching as I turned away sharply.

Security finally stepped in, blocking her as one of our managers started ushering us forward.

But the damage was already done.

I could already hear the murmurs.

"What’s wrong with her?"

"So rude."

"Seungmin would never act like that."

And of course—there he was.

I glanced up just in time to see him smiling effortlessly, answering questions, personally greeting every fan that came up to him.

Easy. Natural. Everything I wasn’t.

I could already feel his judgment from across the crowd.

To him, I probably looked like the worst kind of idol.

What he didn’t know was that I had my reasons.

And I wasn’t about to explain myself to him.

The second we finally got away from the crowd, I could feel the weight of the encounter still pressing on my chest. My steps were quick, my head down, but I could still hear the lingering whispers, the judgment heavy in the air.

I wasn’t sure if it was my own overthinking or if they were actually talking about me, but it didn’t matter.

The damage was already done.

As we turned the corner onto a quieter street, I felt someone fall into step beside me.

I didn’t need to look to know who it was.

"You could at least pretend to care."

I exhaled sharply, barely sparing Seungmin a glance before looking ahead again. "Not in the mood, Seungmin."

"Oh, I know," he said, voice casual but laced with something sharp. "You’re never in the mood, right?"

I clenched my jaw. "Drop it."

But of course, he didn’t.

"Seriously, what’s your deal?" He scoffed. "You act like it’s such a burden to interact with people who support you. The rest of us can handle it just fine. Why is it so hard for you?"

That did it.

I stopped walking, turning to him with narrowed eyes. "You have no idea what you’re talking about."

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest. "Don’t I?"

I let out a sharp breath, shaking my head. "Not everything is as easy as you make it seem, Seungmin."

"No," he agreed, "but being decent to the people who made your career possible isn’t that hard."

The words hit me harder than I expected.

I had spent years learning how to brush off the criticism, how to let things roll off my back.

But for some reason, hearing it from him—someone who already thought the worst of me—made my blood boil.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "You don’t get to judge me."

"Then give me a reason not to."

The challenge was clear in his expression, in the way he refused to look away first.

I had so much I wanted to say.

But I knew it wouldn’t matter.

Not yet.

So instead, I just exhaled sharply and turned away, continuing forward.

"That’s what I thought," Seungmin muttered behind me, before falling back into step with the others.

I didn’t look back.

But the anger sat heavy in my chest, burning quietly.

The hotel lobby was quiet, save for the occasional footsteps of staff moving around and the faint sound of music playing from the lounge area. Most of the others had already gone up to their rooms or found their own ways to unwind after the long day.

I had planned to do the same.

Instead, I found myself sitting in the corner of the lobby, scrolling through my phone, letting the harsh glow of the screen burn into my eyes.

I knew I should’ve put it away.

I knew I shouldn’t have been reading any of this.

But my fingers kept moving, my screen lighting up with headlines, forum posts, and brutal opinions dissecting everything about me.

"Y/N is proof that visuals matter more than talent in the industry."

"Best 4th Gen Dancer my ass."

"She’s not even the best in her group—why does she get so much attention?"

"I heard she got her spot because of connections, not skill. Makes sense why she’s so stiff on stage."

"You really think she made it this far just by ‘working hard’? LMAO, be serious."

My stomach twisted, and I could feel my pulse in my fingertips.

The accusations weren’t new—I had heard whispers like this for years. But somehow, seeing it laid out so blatantly, with thousands of likes and shares, made it feel heavier.

Worse.

Like no matter what I did, no matter how much effort I put in, there were still people who would never respect me.

I barely noticed when someone sat down in the chair across from me, but I did feel the weight of their stare.

"You still look at that stuff?"

I flinched slightly, my thumb freezing mid-scroll.

I glanced up to see Jeongin, leaning back in the chair across from me, arms crossed.

I quickly locked my phone, shoving it onto the table. "It’s nothing."

"Didn’t look like nothing."

His voice wasn’t accusing, just matter-of-fact.

I sighed, running a hand over my face. "Just people talking. Same as always."

Jeongin didn’t respond right away. He just sat there, watching me like he was waiting for me to be honest.

After a beat, he exhaled, shaking his head. "You know none of that’s real, right?"

I let out a small, dry laugh. "Yeah, sure."

Jeongin frowned, his usual playfulness gone. "Y/N."

I forced myself to meet his eyes, but my chest felt tight.

I didn’t want to talk about this. Not now.

So I shrugged. "It’s fine. Doesn’t matter."

Jeongin studied me for a second longer before pushing off the chair, leaning forward to grab my phone.

Without asking, he flipped it face-down on the table.

"Then stop looking."

His tone was soft but firm. A simple statement, not a suggestion.

I swallowed, my fingers twitching slightly.

Jeongin sighed, his expression less teasing than usual, more serious. "Don’t let them win, Y/N."

And with that, he stood up, walking off toward the elevators.

I sat there for a moment, staring at my phone, my reflection faint in the dark screen.

I should’ve let it go.

But the words were still burned into my mind.

And I wasn’t sure if I knew how.

The burn in my throat started a few nights ago. Subtle at first, just a scratch that I figured would go away with enough water and rest.

Except, there was no rest.

Not when we were on back-to-back schedules, traveling city to city, rehearsing between shows, barely enough time to breathe, let alone recover.

I pushed through like always.

Now, standing in the middle of the rehearsal room, sweat clinging to my skin, I felt off.

The usual ache from training felt heavier today, my limbs sluggish, my breath coming shorter than it should have.

I rolled my shoulders back, ignoring the way my vision blurred for half a second.

I was fine.

Across the room, Jeongin watched me.

I caught the way his brows furrowed slightly, the way his gaze lingered as I moved through the choreography.

I knew that look.

I ignored it.

"Let’s go again," Chan called out, already stepping forward to reset the formation.

I exhaled sharply, steadying my stance, locking my body into position as the music cued up again.

But the moment I took my first step, I felt it.

The slight dip in my balance, the way my head felt lighter than it should have.

I corrected it immediately, moving into the next beat as if nothing had happened.

But Jeongin saw.

And so did Seungmin.

I felt his gaze before I even turned his way, a glance quick enough to catch the way his expression flickered—something almost unreadable flashing across his face.

For once, he didn’t say anything.

I wasn’t sure if it was the heat of the room or my own body turning against me, but every time we restarted the routine, my chest felt tighter.

I took a deep breath, forcing air into my lungs, willing my body to cooperate.

I couldn’t stop now.

Not when I had spent the last few weeks feeling like I was slipping. Not when people were already questioning whether I deserved to be here.

I needed them to see me succeed.

So I kept going.

Even when my legs felt heavier than they should have.

Even when my head felt like it was filled with static.

Even when I knew—knew—I was moving on sheer willpower alone.

I felt the weight of Jeongin’s stare first.

He wasn’t even being subtle about it anymore—I could see him watching between reps, his usual easy-going expression replaced with something more cautious.

But he didn’t say anything.

Neither did Seungmin.

I caught his gaze in the mirror, just for a second.

He was standing off to the side, arms crossed, eyes narrowed just slightly.

For once, there was no smirk. No sharp remarks.

Just quiet observation.

I ignored them both.

I had to.

The music started again, the pounding bass vibrating through my body, rattling in my chest.

I moved on instinct, letting my muscle memory carry me through—each step, each transition, each sharp hit of the beat.

But something was off.

I felt it before I saw it.

The moment my foot landed wrong, I knew. The angle was off, the weight uneven. My body moved a fraction of a second behind my mind, and suddenly—

I was out of sync.

Just for half a beat.

But in this world, half a beat was everything.

I immediately corrected, snapping into place, but the mistake had already happened. I could feel the eyes on me.

Someone spoke. "Y/N, what was that?"

I blinked, chest rising and falling faster than it should’ve been.

My mind scrambled for a response, but the words weren’t there.

I wasn’t fully there.

"I—" My voice sounded strange, distant, like it belonged to someone else.

Across from me, Ari’s gaze sharpened.

She saw it.

But she didn’t get the chance to say anything.

I sucked in a breath, forcing my posture straight, willing my body to hold itself together.

"Let’s go again," I said quickly, pretending nothing happened.

I needed to shake this off.

I needed them to see me succeed.

Even if my body had other plans.

The music thundered through the speakers, vibrating through the stage beneath my feet.

I kept moving. Kept pushing.

Every step felt heavier, like my limbs were fighting against me. My skin was damp with sweat, but I felt cold.

It was getting harder to breathe.

The stage lights burned hot, casting everything in a hazy glow. The air felt thick, each inhale tighter than the last.

And then—

The misstep.

The dizziness.

The moment my body finally gave out beneath me.

The floor rushed toward me, the sharp gasp of someone nearby cutting through the ringing in my ears.

The music stopped.

Someone called my name.

I barely heard them before everything faded to black.

The moment my body hit the stage, everything exploded into chaos.

The music cut off instantly.

Footsteps—rushed, frantic—pounded against the stage floor as voices overlapped in panic.

"Y/N!"

"Someone get the staff!"

I felt hands on me—someone kneeling beside me, another hand brushing my hair back, the fabric of my sweat-soaked clothes sticking to my skin.

I was aware of it all, but everything felt distant. Like I was watching it happen from the outside, my limbs too heavy to respond.

"Is she breathing okay?" Ari’s voice was the sharpest, her usual calm cracked with pure fear.

"She’s burning up," Leah’s voice trembled. "We need to get her offstage—now."

Someone lifted me slightly, supporting my upper body. The movement made my stomach turn, a weak groan escaping before I could stop it.

"She’s conscious," Jeongin said quickly, relief barely masking the tension in his voice.

A shaky breath. My lips parted, but no words came out.

Through the haze, I caught a glimpse of Seungmin standing a few steps away.

Frozen.

For the first time since this tour started, he looked…unsure. His usual sharp eyes were wide, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he wasn’t sure what to say.

But I couldn’t focus on him.

Because my head was spinning, my skin was on fire, and the weight of every mistake, every moment I ignored my body’s warning signs, had finally come crashing down.

And now?

I wasn’t in control anymore.

The coolness of the backstage area barely helped with the heat radiating off my skin.

I felt cold and hot at the same time, my limbs too heavy, my breathing uneven.

Voices blurred together.

"Her temperature is high."

"She needs fluids—has she eaten today?"

"She’s completely burned out."

I tried to speak to tell them I was fine, but my throat felt raw. The most I could manage was a weak, halfhearted shake of my head.

"Don’t try to talk," Ari’s voice was there, close, softer than before. "They’re just checking your vitals."

I swallowed, eyes flickering open.

The faces above me were blurry, shifting in and out of focus. A few staff members kneeled beside me, pressing a cool cloth to my forehead, speaking in hushed tones.

Ari, Leah, Jeongin, and Lee Know were still there.

Lee Know stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching the scene with an unreadable expression.

I tried to sit up, but the second I moved, my head spun.

A sharp inhale.

Lee Know was faster than Ari this time, pressing a hand to my shoulder and easily keeping me down.

"Not happening," he muttered. "Just rest, okay?"

Leah crossed her arms, clearly annoyed. "How long have you been feeling like this?"

I didn’t answer.

Because I knew the truth would only piss them off more.

Before I could gather enough strength to argue, the managers arrived.

Their voices were firm, no room for negotiation.

"She’s not performing tonight."

The words hit like a slap, and suddenly, the heaviness in my body wasn’t just from being sick.

I forced myself to sit up, ignoring the pounding in my head as I looked between them. "No. I can still do it."

"Y/N," Leah warned, eyes flashing with frustration.

But I wasn’t listening.

I turned to the managers again, pushing past the ache in my limbs. "I’ll be fine by showtime. I just need—"

"You just collapsed on stage," Ari cut in, arms crossed. "There’s no debate. You’re sitting this one out."

No.

No, no, no.

I had spent weeks proving myself, clawing my way through every performance, every mistake, every doubt.

I wasn’t losing my spot now.

"I can do this," I tried again, my voice hoarse. "I just—"

"Oh!" A voice interrupted, and I didn’t have to look to know who it belonged to.

Mira.

She strolled into view, faux concern plastered all over her face, hands clasped in front of her. "If she can’t go on, I can step in."

The air shifted.

For a split second, nobody spoke.

Then, one of the managers nodded. "That could work. You already know the choreo."

My stomach twisted violently.

Mira turned to me, her smile oh-so sweet, but her eyes telling an entirely different story.

"Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll take good care of your part."

I felt numb.

The room was still spinning, but the real sickness sat in my chest.

I should have fought back. I should have said something.

But the moment Mira tilted her head, smiling like she had won, everything inside me just… shut off.

I went blank.

Ari’s head snapped toward Mira, eyes narrowing. "You’re really volunteering that fast, huh?"

Mira turned to her, expression perfectly innocent. "What do you mean? Someone has to do it."

Ari’s lips pressed together, but she didn’t buy it. I could see the irritation tighten her jaw, the way her hands fisted at her sides.

She wasn’t the only one.

Lee Know, who had been mostly quiet until now, finally spoke.

"You sure you can handle it?" His voice was flat, unreadable, but there was something pointed underneath.

Mira smiled wider. "I mean, it’s not that complicated, right?"

Ari let out a sharp breath, like she was physically stopping herself from saying something she’d regret.

Lee Know just stared at Mira for a long moment.

Then, slowly, he turned to me.

"Y/N."

I blinked, but I couldn’t force words out.

What was I supposed to say?

Mira had already taken my spot.

Nothing I said would change it now.

So I just looked away.

The moment Mira stepped away from me, I could already hear her faking concern as she walked over to the others.

"Guys, change of plans," she said, voice just loud enough for me to hear from where I sat. "Y/N isn’t performing tonight, so I’ll be taking her place."

The reaction was immediate.

Kat’s face twisted in confusion. "Wait, what? Since when?"

Mira sighed dramatically, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Since about five minutes ago," she said. "The managers agreed, and I already know the choreo, so it just makes sense."

Hyunjin’s eyes flickered toward me, his concern obvious. "And Y/N’s okay with this?"

Mira didn’t even hesitate. "Well, she didn’t argue."

Ari scoffed. "Yeah, because she’s half-conscious."

The room tensed.

Mira only shrugged, smiling just a little. "Either way, we should start getting ready."

Lee Know, who had been watching the whole thing in silence, finally spoke. "Just don’t mess it up." His tone was neutral, but his expression wasn’t.

Mira’s smile didn’t falter. "Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got this."

And with that, she turned away, ready to steal the show.

I barely registered the conversation.

I barely felt anything at all.

Because the second they all turned away, the second I was left sitting backstage, my chest tightened in a way I couldn’t control.

I blinked up at the ceiling, forcing back the burning in my throat.

I had lost my spot.

After everything I had fought for—**after every moment I forced myself to push through, to prove I was worth something—**I was still replaceable.

And the worst part?

Mira was making sure I knew it.

My hands curled into fists, nails pressing into my palms. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it didn’t stop the feeling of failure from swallowing me whole.

I had fought so hard.

And it still wasn’t enough.

By the time the show started, I was watching from the wings, still too weak to stand on my own.

The lights hit the stage, the energy buzzing through the arena as Stellar performed without me.

And then, it happened.

Mira did my move.

Not just any move—my signature move. The one I had created, the one I had made my own.

The audience cheered like nothing was wrong.

Mira beamed.

And I?

I felt sick for a whole new reason.

The energy backstage was still buzzing, staff members congratulating each other, the usual post-show adrenaline filling the space.

But I wasn’t part of it.

I sat off to the side, still too weak to stand properly, watching as everyone came back from the stage.

And Mira?

She made a beeline toward me.

She tilted her head, still in full makeup and costume, wiping sweat off her brow like she had just saved the whole show.

And then she smiled.

"That was fun," she said sweetly. "I mean, I wouldn’t want to replace you permanently or anything, but… I did fit in pretty well, don’t you think?"

She let the words sink in, let them cut.

Then, with a final smirk, she turned and walked off.

And I sat there, feeling like I had lost everything.

I needed to get out of here.

The post-show energy, the voices, the flashing lights from the screens playing encore footage—it was too much.

I pushed myself up, ignoring the way my legs wobbled beneath me.

Leah and Ari noticed immediately, their heads snapping in my direction, but I didn’t give them time to stop me.

I kept my head down and moved, weaving past staff and dancers, making my way toward the private restroom backstage.

My hands were trembling by the time I pushed the door open.

The second it closed behind me, the weight I had been holding in collapsed all at once.

I braced myself against the sink, sucking in sharp, uneven breaths.

Everything hit me at once.

The exhaustion.

The humiliation.

The sharp, suffocating feeling of being replaced so easily.

A ragged breath tore from my throat, and I gripped the edges of the sink, my vision blurring as my chest heaved.

I couldn’t do this.

I couldn’t—

A soft knock at the door made me freeze.

My stomach twisted.

For a second, I thought it was Leah or Ari coming to check on me.

But then—

"Y/N."

I went rigid.

Because that wasn’t Leah.

Or Ari.

Or anyone I would’ve expected.

It was Seungmin.

I gripped the sink harder, willing my breaths to even out, willing myself to stay silent.

Maybe if I didn’t answer, he’d take the hint and leave.

Seconds passed.

Then—

"I know you’re in there."

His voice was calm. Not sharp, not teasing—just even.

I clenched my jaw, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Red-rimmed eyes. Flushed skin. The complete opposite of the image I was supposed to keep up.

I swallowed back the lump in my throat.

Silence.

Maybe he’d take that as an answer.

Then he spoke again.

"So that’s it?" A slight shift in his tone, like he was testing the waters. "You’re just gonna sit in there and pretend nothing happened?"

My fingers twitched against the cool porcelain.

That’s exactly what I was going to do.

Pretend this wasn’t happening.

Pretend I wasn’t falling apart.

Another pause.

Then, softer this time—"You don’t have to pretend with me."

Something in my chest tensed.

I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the sink even harder.

Why was he still standing there?

And more importantly—why did it sound like he actually meant that?

A long beat of silence stretched between us.

I refused to move. Refused to speak.

But Seungmin wasn’t leaving.

Instead, he let out a slow exhale, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower, less guarded.

"You know… I thought you were stronger than this."

Something in me flinched.

His tone wasn’t mocking, wasn’t sharp—just honest. And that somehow made it worse.

He shifted outside the door, and I could almost picture him standing there, arms crossed, debating what to say next.

"All this time, you’ve acted like nothing gets to you. Like you don’t care what people say." A pause. "But you do, don’t you?"

I sucked in a quiet breath, my grip on the sink tightening.

"You care too much."

Another pause.

Then—"That’s why you don’t fight back."

My stomach twisted.

Because I hated how close to the truth that was.

I stared down at my reflection on the floor, my own exhausted eyes staring back at me.

And still, I didn’t say a word.

Seungmin shifted again, like he was about to say more—then stopped himself.

A beat of silence.

Then, his voice dropped to almost a murmur.

"You know, you’re not the only one who’s ever felt like this."

I blinked.

My breath hitched just slightly, but I caught it before it could be heard.

I didn’t know what I was expecting him to say, but… not that.

Something in his voice was different now.

Less sharp.

Less detached.

More like he actually… understood.

I swallowed, my chest tightening with something I couldn’t place.

And yet—I still said nothing.

I heard him shift once more, but this time, he hesitated.

Then, after one last pause—I heard footsteps.

He was leaving.

But somehow, it didn’t feel like an ending.

It felt like the beginning of something I wasn’t ready to face.

The room was quiet again.

No more footsteps.

No more words.

Just me.

I stayed where I was, back pressed against the cool tiles, knees pulled up to my chest.

My breathing had finally evened out, but my mind was far from calm.

Seungmin’s voice still echoed in my head.

"You know… I thought you were stronger than this."

"That’s why you don’t fight back."

"You care too much."

I wanted to ignore it. Pretend like none of this happened.

But I couldn’t.

Because somehow, for the first time since this tour started, Seungmin didn’t sound like my enemy.

And that thought alone terrified me.

I exhaled, pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, just thinking.

Minutes passed—maybe longer.

Eventually, my legs felt steady enough to move.

I pushed myself up, straightened my hoodie, and finally unlocked the door.

The hallway was empty now.

No one waiting.

No one lingering.

And yet, as I stepped out, the weight of what just happened still clung to me.

The venue had mostly cleared out by now—staff moving equipment, dancers heading back to their dressing rooms, the energy finally settling after the chaos of the night.

Seungmin was off to the side, stretching out his shoulders, his expression unreadable.

Jeongin had been watching him for a while.

And he was done staying quiet.

He stepped up beside him, arms crossed. "I know what you’re doing."

Seungmin barely glanced at him. "What are you talking about?"

Jeongin let out a sharp exhale through his nose, shaking his head. "You and Mira. You’ve been messing with her this whole time."

That got Seungmin’s attention.

His expression barely shifted, but Jeongin knew him too well to miss the way his jaw tensed.

Still, he played it cool. "You sound paranoid."

Jeongin huffed, not buying it for a second.

"You think I didn’t notice?" He tilted his head. "The mic feedback. The ‘accidental’ positioning mistakes. Mira shifting in formations just enough to throw Y/N off. You might think you're being slick, but I see it."

Seungmin’s hands curled into loose fists.

But Jeongin wasn’t finished.

"And tonight?" His voice lowered. "You let Mira take her spot. You watched her steal Y/N’s move. And you didn’t say a thing."

Seungmin’s eyes flickered, but he kept his face carefully blank.

Jeongin took a step closer. "Tell me this, hyung." His voice hardened. "At what point does it stop being funny?"

Silence.

For a moment, Seungmin didn’t respond.

Then—"It was never funny."

Jeongin’s brows furrowed. "Then why?"

Seungmin exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck, but he didn’t answer.

Because maybe—for the first time since this started—he wasn’t sure anymore.

Why had he gone along with Mira’s games?