#that i like them and it's judge's fault like everything

[wtfisgoingonirl]

Why everything is as bad as JDs outfit

Horrible. Yes, JDs outfit definitely was. I can’t believe a stylist put this very unflattering combination together for him. The shoes, the shirt, the sweater, even the suit didn’t fit properly. At least with that you can prove not every gay man is a style icon. But that wasn’t the worst thing. N and JDs misfortunate red carpet appearance was not well received. Bad move. While it is probably necessary for whatever is going on behind the scenes, it is more than disappointing for the fans. Totally understandable, some unfollowed and others jumped ship. Got fame into Nics head? Sadly she made fans very angry. What abut JD? Appears to opportunistic. As they say, negative press is still press, but come on… Using a polaroid was the worst thing. This boy doesn’t learn from the backlash he already got. Of course it’s his choice to give a FU to us. I didn’t like him before and now I will definitely avoid any show or film he takes a part in. JD now shares the same popularity as A. Congratulations to that! At this point N should remind herself of the words she shared once: mindful and demure. That was only a meme and therefore has no true value. N has build her image as the super nice girls, gays and Lukes gal. Even if she wants to keep her private life private and L has still to fulfill some obligations, this is to much for the fans.

It has gotten ugly. But we’re at fault too. All of us fans, weather it’s us Lukolas, the Jakolas and Figatonis or the Btons. We are always judging every single thing they do. The trolls and haters are merciless. Celebrities are just ppl like you and me, so let’s cut them some slack. N will at least try to make it look beautiful with new photos from Cannes. But I doubt it will help, if L won’t be in the picture.

Stay sturdy! Peace✌🏻

[beanghostprincess]

that scene of the vinsmoke siblings saying goodbye to sanji and helping him one by one to get away from different threats has my heart and my soul and my everything and i will cherish it forever thank you very much

[pilonciillo]

lol didn’t think someone giving money would give me anxiety

[kidfoundonstreets]

mom may possibly take technology away again so watch out for that.

[lyknest]

.

[wickershells]

feel like I'm disintegrating

[inthelittlegenny]

tavern talk is great; just completed it. 10/10 would recommend if you want something super chill (i'm going to ramble in the tags so probably spoilers)

[dufrau]

thinking about shauna listening to jackie talk about jeff like he never even mattered when shauna is pregnant with his baby because she just wanted something jackie had and wanted to be wanted by someone who wanted jackie and now jackie doesnt even care anymore and shauna is stuck with this forever. and then jackie dies and then the baby dies but not before shauna has to give birth to him in the wilderness in winter surrounded by people who eat the dead and now fucking jeff sadecki is the last thing she has of either of them and what the hell is she supposed to do with that? she's stuck with him forever.

thinking about shauna beating lottie almost all the way to death to get all of that rage out of her and then when that rage is out of her they give her a knife and tell her to slit natalie's throat, and then when natalie runs and shauna is let off the hook for one thing for once they give her the knife again and tell her to cut up javi, the closest thing to a baby, so they can eat him, and now she's stuck with this, too. and all that rage she burned off didn't go anywhere, really. it's still right there.

and then im thinking about shauna watching lottie and everybody else crown natalie the queen for virtue of not dying, which is the same thing everybody has been doing, except for jackie and the baby and javi who all took chunks of shauna with them and left her with nothing but a knife.

im thinking about shauna who watches everybody gossip and laugh through the springtime knowing that when winter comes she will be the person who will have to cut them all up one by one so the rest of them can live and its very easy to see why she isnt friends with any of them anymore by then. she looks at them and she sees cuts of meat and how is she supposed to look at anybody normally ever again after that?

and its cruel, of course it is, everything she does to coach ben. it's not his fault, it's not about him at all, really, except that he is exactly the problem. he's innocent. he judges them. he sees what they have had to do to survive and pretends he never profited from any of it. pretends to be above it, uninvolved. he judges them. he judges her.

and shauna needs complicity from these people. she needs somebody else to know what it feels like to hold the knife. she needs people to be stuck with those guilty votes forever. tai with the gun and melissa with the knife and natalie at the butcher's table so that she's not the only one. and so ben is the sacrifice.

i saw somebody say that shauna doesnt want natalie to have to feel the pain of butchering a person, thats why she puts the cloth over his face. but that's not true. she *needs* natalie to know the pain of it, the guilt of it, the weight. The cloth is a lie she told herself would make it easier but she knows that Natalie is about to know what the inside of this man's joints look like either way and that she's going to be stuck knowing that forever.

they are going to be rescued someday and everybody will say "we did what we had to do to survive" and shauna needs to not be the only one who really has to mean that when she says it. and i guess she has that now. or she's about to.

[beanghostprincess]

me, watching germa fight: CAREFUL YONJI DON'T DIE!!!!

my friend: 10 episodes ago you were literally saying you wanted him dead

me: people change

[bettsfic]

one of the best decisions i've ever made was to stop arguing.

i'd always been an arguer. i was defensive about everything and mindlessly contrary. it wasn't all my fault; i was (and still am) talked down to and patronized a lot, and when you live your life that way, you become kind of a raw nerve and dedicate a lot of energy to trying to prove yourself. someone even told me once, "it's just fun messing with you. you get so upset."

at 23, i was working in an environment where about a half dozen middle aged conservative men were always telling me what to do and explaining things to me. i either argued with them when they said heinous things or stewed about it for hours or even days. and so my new year's resolution one year was simply: no arguing.

it felt a little like defeat at first, like i was no longer standing up for what i believed in, even though no matter how right i was or how much proof i had for my claims, no one had ever been swayed by anything i told them. part of that was because they had no respect for me and didn't take me seriously; the other part was the simple truth that arguments are almost never productive. when someone says something and you immediately reply with, "you're wrong and here's why," a wall goes up and nothing can go over it.

i couldn't just let these men talk at me though, so i started asking questions. not leading questions, not with an intention to prove a point or walk them into a corner. i genuinely wanted to understand how they came to shape the opinions they held. i realized that understanding and agreeing are two different things, and just because i seek to understand doesn't mean i condone.

a truly fascinating thing happened: these men walked into corners all by themselves. it turns out nobody had ever actually tasked them with speaking their opinions aloud to a neutral audience. no one had ever been sincerely curious about them and their views. sure, their loved ones probably asked, "how are you doing?" all the time as a show of affection, but that's much different than, "what do you think?"

knowing what i know now, i think that's true of everyone. how many people ask you for your opinion and listen to what you have to say without speaking their opinion back to you? without judging you? how many people actively and intentionally try to understand you?

it's been over ten years since my resolution and i think i can count the arguments i've gotten into on one hand. one finger, even. it's amazing what happens when someone tries to rile you up, pick a fight with you, and your only response is, "can you elaborate on that?"

you can work someone into a very open and vulnerable state when you ask questions. they eventually run out of their usual talking points and move into the personal. when i do this, it's not like therapy; i'm not trying to help anyone. and it's not like teaching; i'm not trying to educate anyone. i just want to understand how people reach the conclusions they've come to. even after all these years of asking questions and not arguing, it still amazes me how few people in this world feel understood, and how easy it is to get them to open up when you say, "i want to know what you think."

[frmisnow]

play pretend ! ₊⟡⋆ nsfw.

the premise of fake dating your best friend, for just a weekend, is hilarous.. and scary. but what happens after is even scarier.. it's just play pretend right?

warnings / includes — sex, heavy fwb themes, bit of angst

shame coated you when you woke up in one of the guest rooms, carefully placed onto the bed at about 3am by no other then jungkook while you were dead hungover. pure rotten shame rests in your cheeks, paints them red when you say bye to his family a few hours later as jungkook couldn't quite even look at you.

everything about him was different. the way he moved around you, the way he avoided looking directly at you. hell, even his voice sounded quieter, less confident, like he didn’t know what to do either.

something had changed him, for the worse.

and it was all your damn fault.

you had thought the car ride would give you both time to defrost, pretend that whatever happened the night earlier did in fact not happen, crack some jokes but to no avail — long, defening silence.

silence and shame don't go well together, the color they create on the canvas of yours, it soaked through you. stayed with you for the next five days, it's the color of the message you send him at 11 pm on saturday, asking him how he was doing.

it's the ugly color of the 'delivered' button that stays there for the following two days.

the dress you wear to the next party is bright, anything to drown out the guilt that was eating you alive.

the music is loud, and so are you. laughing a little too hard, moving a little too close to anyone who shows you attention. you take another sip of whatever is in your cup, the liquid burning its way down your throat but dulling the ache in your chest.

and then there’s him.

you don’t see Jungkook immediately, but you feel him before your eyes catch his across the room. you feel the way the air shifts, the way your stomach churns when you notice the familiar set of his jaw, the way his eyes flicker toward you.

you almost drop your drink.

because it feels like a candid flashback of that night—only now it’s all so different. why did things have to be so complicated?

you’re pressed against some guy you barely know, his lips grazing your neck in a way that should distract you. you’ve been letting it happen, letting him flirt, letting his hands wander because it’s easier than thinking about the mess you left unresolved.

but then there’s jungkook. he stands on the other side, the neon light painting his face; his look wasn't judging. maybe light disappointment but more observing then anything, really. and it reminded you of how you used to stare at him whenever he was going after various girls at these exact sorts of parties.

it makes you sick, makes the unfamilar hands on your body feel foul and uninviting, it's not the fire burning through you like it had that night, it's cold ice, slowly creeping through your veins, making it's way to your brain.

said ice whispers things you don't want to hear, reminds you of things you don't want to think about.

"fuck, i think i like you."

you run of upstairs to the nearest balcony, the house was familar one of your mutual friends', this place was where you used to play spin the damn bottle in high school. now it feels haunted, just as univiting as the guy's hands felt a few minutes ago, why did everything feel so distant now? first jungkook, now everything else. why was it so consuming?

you light up a cigarette, you didn't usually smoke but you wanted to feel that fire again, the warmth, the pure need from a week ago. you regreted not having fucked the guy because you were sure he could've made you forget for longer then this cig could.

“thought I might find you here,” he says behind you, kneeling next to you yet keeping a safe distance, his voice low and cautious.

"you shouldn't have," you respond coldly, because anger is a better emotion to feel then regret and you had plenty things to be frustrated about, "you've been avoiding me for a whole week, don't pretend like you give a fuck." you don't meet his eyes, just take another drag.

but you see him flinch in the corner of your eye. great, the guilt sits in you once again.

he shifts slightly, and you can feel the tension radiating off him , “i know I’ve been a jerk, but it’s not that simple—”

“then make it simple.” your voice is sharper than you intended, but the hurt has festered for too long. you finally turn to face him, “i need to know what you want. because this? whatever this is? it’s fucking misery.”

the words hang heavily in the air, and for a moment, silence stretches between you. jungkook looks like he’s grappling with his thoughts, the tension in his body palpable. then, slowly, he closes the distance between you, his eyes softening as he cups your face in his hands.

“can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice a whisper, as if the question itself is laced with vulnerability.

you nod, and the moment your lips touch, it’s like everything else fades away. the kiss starts soft, gentle, as if he’s savoring the moment, and you can feel your heart begin to race.

it's nothing like the previous fire you had wished to experience earlier, it's delicate warming sunlight, brushing over your skin, washing away the hideous color that had built over the last few days.

“friends with benefits,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and sweet. “we get to have this-” he kisses you again, slow and lingering, “—without the pressure of expectations.”

“expectations?” you echo, your mind racing as you try to process his words.

“yeah,” he replies, his lips brushing against yours, each touch sending shivers down your spine. “we can enjoy each other without worrying about where it’s going. just... pure fun.” his hands toy with the hem of your dress, before returning your gaze.

time slips quick, it all feels so raw, so different from that night yet all so much better.

his hands grip your thighs, pulling you closer, driving deep inside you with a primal urgency. you can feel the way he fills you, stretching you perfectly. you're so glad you aren't drunk, that you'll remember this in the morning and the day after.

you claw at his back, nails digging in, urging him on, needing more, wanting all of him. and he curses, runs his mouth like the talkative brat you knew he always was, degrades you one second, tentatively kisses your cheeks the next.

his hands rest on your tighs as he kisses along your clit once again, sweet, real. taunts you 'for the mess you made on your friend's coach' but he doesn't give you time to feel guilty, just starts nuzzling his face back into your pussy, licking along.

no, jungkook will never make you feel the same guilt again. you're sure of it, well — not that you could really properly think under these conditions anyway.

[arolesbianism]

Rotates swap au Wickerbottom in my head. Gotta love old women trapped in self imposed cycles of pain and regret

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝒾𝓃𝓈𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝜗𝜚 𝓉𝓀𝒶𝓉𝒷 𝓂𝑒𝓃

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: The TKATB men find themselves stuck in ridiculously tight spaces with you—too close for comfort. Tension is high, tempers flare, and maybe, just maybe, something else lingers in the air. 

What happens when there's nowhere to run?

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

As a writer who absolutely adores her dearest readers—and remembers almost everything—I suppose it’s finally time to give the people what they want.  

Yeah… it’s really come to this.

[ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ]

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

The kitchen smelled like sugar, vanilla, and the faintest hint of burning from the last batch of muffins Crowe pulled out. He hadn’t said anything, but you knew he was silently judging himself for not taking them out sooner. 

Not that it mattered—you were still determined to get one before they cooled completely.

You leaned on the broom in your hand, watching him move around like he owned the place. Well, he kinda did. As much as he loved you, he didn’t trust you near an oven anymore after the incident (which, in your defense, was totally not your fault. Mostly). 

That’s why he’d handed you the broom and kept you at a safe distance, probably so he could supervise while you did something harmless.

“Hey, grab the flour,” he said, focused on lining up the muffin tin for the next batch.

You sighed, abandoning your post as Official Kitchen Sweeper and heading to the pantry. Reaching for the sugar on the highest shelf was another story. You stretched up, fingertips barely brushing the bottom of the bag. Seriously, who put it this high? Oh, right—Crowe, who probably didn’t consider your not-tall-enough height when he stored it away.

“Crowe,” you called, still reaching. “Can you—”

Before you could finish, he was already there. And way too close.

You hadn’t even heard him move, but suddenly, his chest was inches from your back, arm reaching effortlessly over your head. He grabbed the sugar with zero struggle, like he hadn’t just waited for you to fail first.

“…Did you just let me struggle on purpose?” you asked, turning your head slightly.

Crowe didn’t answer immediately, but you knew he was smirking. “Maybe.”

You were this close to elbowing him when the broom in your hand, which you’d forgotten about in your mild irritation, slipped from your grip. There was an ominous clatter, then a soft thump—and then, the unmistakable sound of wood against wood.

You blinked. Turned your head.

The pantry door was shut.

And when you tried to push it open, it didn’t budge.

Crowe exhaled through his nose, sounding way too amused.

“Great job,” he said.

“Oh, shut up, this is your fault,” you shot back, jiggling the doorknob. Nothing. The broom must have fallen just right to wedge itself against the door.

Crowe knocked once on the wooden panel like he was testing its durability. “You locked us in a pantry.”

“Technically, you locked us in the pantry.”

“Technically, you dropped the broom.”

You turned, glaring up at him. “You let me struggle for the flour.”

Crowe lifted the bag slightly, gaze unreadable but definitely smug. “And I’d do it again.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Okay, genius. How do we get out?”

He considered the question like he wasn’t already aware that brute force was an option. Eventually, he sighed, shifting to lean against the nearest shelf.

“I’m not fully sure. Could call Geo, he has the spare key,”

You gave him a deadpan look. “You wanna be stuck here for hours?”

“Geo would get us out in five minutes.”

You groaned, debating your options. You could call someone. Or, more realistically, you could let Crowe deal with it while you sat back and did nothing.

…But then again.

You eyed the bag of flour in his hand.

Crowe caught the look immediately. His eyes narrowed. “Don’t.”

Too late.

You lunged, swiping for the bag, but he yanked it away with zero effort, holding it out of reach like you were some kind of misbehaving child. Which, to be fair, wasn’t entirely inaccurate. But still.

“Give me that,” you said, reaching again.

Crowe tilted his head, considering. Then, with the smuggest expression you’d ever seen, he lifted it higher.

You knew what had to be done.

With zero hesitation, you smacked the bottom of the flour bag.

A cloud of white exploded between you.

Crowe inhaled sharply, taking a full breath of flour straight to the face. You clamped a hand over your mouth, trying so hard not to laugh as he coughed, shaking the powder from his braided brown hair.

“…You little—”

He didn’t finish. Instead, he lunged.

You yelped, dodging to the side, but he was faster. In a single movement, he snatched the flour bag back and retaliated, dumping half of it over your head.

You gasped. “You ass!”

Crowe only smirked, but you could see the challenge in his eyes—like he was daring you to try something else.

Oh, it was on.

You grabbed a handful of flour straight from the bag and flung it at him, coating his shirt. He retaliated by smearing it across your cheek with his thumb, and before you knew it, you were both full-on brawling in the tiny pantry, shoving, dodging, laughing—until, in one swift motion, Crowe grabbed your wrists, spun you, and pinned you against the wall.

The breath left your lungs.

You barely had time to register the shift before he lifted you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Instinct, mostly. His grip was strong, hands firm against your thighs as he leaned in, his breath warm despite the ridiculous amount of flour covering you both.

For a second, neither of you moved.

Crowe tilted his head, looking up at you with a lazy smirk. “You good?”

You huffed. “You’re so annoying.”

He grinned. “And yet, here we are.”

You rolled your eyes, still catching your breath. “Y’know, if we ever get out of here, you’re cleaning this up.”

Crowe hummed like he was actually considering it. “Mmm. Nah.”

You squinted at him. “Nah?”

Flour clung to both of you like snowfall, dusting your clothes, your skin, even the strands of Crowe’s hair—but neither of you cared.  

Because before you could get another word out, he leaned in and stole a kiss.  

It was quick—at first. Just enough to catch you off guard, just enough to make your fingers tighten in his hair out of pure instinct. But when he felt you kiss him back, he grinned against your lips, wasting no time in deepening it.  

His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him as the pantry shelves dug into your back. The scent of sugar and flour mixed with something distinctly him, something warm and addictive. He kissed like he did everything else—with confidence, with a teasing edge that made you want to smack him and pull him closer all at once.  

“You—” You barely managed to exhale when he finally pulled back, your face burning hotter than the oven outside.  

Crowe only smirked, looking way too pleased with himself. “Figured if I was gonna be stuck in here, I might as well get something out of it.”  

You smacked his arm, sending a puff of flour into the air. He just laughed, shaking some from his hair before grabbing your wrist and tugging you right back into another kiss.

Yeah. You were never gonna live this down.

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

Sol was pissed.

You could feel it in the way he stomped beside you, in the sharp inhale through his nose, in the way his hands clenched and unclenched like he was aching to throw a punch.

And honestly? You wouldn’t blame him. The guy totally deserved it—hitting on you like that, all cocky smirk and stupid one-liners, right in front of Sol. If it were anyone else, maybe he would’ve let it slide. But you? Sol wasn’t the type to stand by and let someone act like you were up for grabs.

Which is why you were currently dragging him down the hallway, ignoring his half-hearted protests, his muttered curses, and the death glare he was sending over his shoulder toward the guy still standing near the lockers.

“Let me go,” he growled, low and tense.

“Nope.”

“I’m not gonna let him get away with that—”

You rounded a corner, yanking him into the nearest door. Sol barely had a second to register what was happening before you shoved him inside and locked the stall door behind you.

A pause.

Then—

“…Did you just pull me into a bathroom stall?”

You leaned against the wall, exhaling. “Yes.”

Sol stared at you. Then at the stall walls. Then back at you.

“…Why?”

“Because,” you said, voice slow and pointed, “I’m not letting you fight a guy just because he shot his shot. It’s not worth it.”

Sol scoffed, crossing his arms. “Not worth it? He was—”

“Flirting.” You raised a brow. “That’s all.”

Sol’s jaw tightened. “Yeah, and that’s enough.”

You sighed. There was no reasoning with him when he was like this—fists clenching, shoulders tense, barely restraining himself from storming right back out.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, rubbing your temples.

“And you’re insane for thinking I’m gonna let that slide.”

“Well, guess what? You don’t have a choice.”

Sol huffed out a frustrated breath, raking a hand through his hair. He looked like a caged animal, shifting his weight, practically vibrating with pent-up aggression. It would’ve been funny—his broad frame stuffed into the cramped stall, visibly suffering—if not for the fact that he genuinely looked like he was debating whether or not to climb over the door and bolt.

“…You really think I’d lose?” he asked suddenly.

You blinked. “What?”

“You pulled me in here like I’d lose,” he muttered, eyes narrowed. “Like I couldn’t take him.”

“Oh my god.” You let your head fall back against the wall. “Sol, I know you could take him. That’s the problem.”

His scowl deepened. “Then why—”

“Because it’s stupid!” you groaned, throwing your hands up. “It’s a waste of time, you’d get in trouble, and for what? My honor? Please.” You rolled your eyes. “Like I can’t handle a guy flirting with me.”

Sol was quiet for a second. He looked away, flexing his fingers before stuffing them into his pockets.

“…Still,” he muttered.

You glanced at him. “Still what?”

His jaw clenched. “Still don’t like it.”

Something in his voice was different—lower, rougher. He wasn’t just pissed anymore. There was something else beneath it, something raw and unreadable.

For once, you softened.

You exhaled, somewhat over his shit, “I know.” before turning around to look though the gaps of the stall.

Sol didn’t move for a moment. But then, finally, he sighed, letting his head fall back against the stall like he was exhausted—more like he was embarrassed.

You see—you pressed yourself against the stall door, carefully peeking through the small gap to see if the guy had followed.

Sol, still leaning against the back wall, let out a slow, controlled breath, finally starting to relax—until you shifted back against him.

He stiffened.

You didn’t notice. Too focused on scanning the hallway, you pressed in closer, unknowingly making the situation worse. Sol’s hands twitched at his sides, jaw locking as he tried so hard to think about literally anything else besides the fact that—

“Oh, good, I think he’s gone,” you muttered.

Sol said nothing.

You frowned, turning your head slightly. “You good?”

Still, nothing.

…Weird.

Shrugging, you went back to peeking out, oblivious as you unknowingly rocked back against him again.

Sol flinched. His hands immediately shot out, grabbing your hips to stop you before this got any worse.

You finally noticed that. “Hey, what are you—”

“I need you to move.” His voice was strained, almost a growl.

You blinked, glancing over your shoulder. “Move where? There’s no—”

Then you felt it.

Oh.

Oh.

Realization slammed into you like a brick. You went completely still, processing. Sol looked like he wanted to die.

For a second, neither of you spoke. Then, finally—

“…You’re kidding.”

Sol exhaled sharply. “Help me.”

You choked on a laugh, smacking a hand over your mouth. “Oh my God.”

“This isn’t funny!” he hissed, keeping his grip on your hips firmly so you wouldn’t make things worse.

“It’s hilarious!”

“I’m suffering!”

You were fully cackling at this point, bracing yourself against the stall door as Sol groaned behind you, deeply regretting every decision that led to this moment.

“…So, uh,” you teased, grinning. “Still mad about that guy flirting with me?”

“Shut up.”

He glanced at you, then shook his head, a reluctant smirk tugging at his lips. “We’re literally hiding in a bathroom stall.”

“Yeah, and?” You questioned.

Sol rolled his eyes, but his posture relaxed, tension slowly easing out of his shoulders.

Sol exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before dragging it down his face. His other hand curled into a fist at his side, like he was trying to keep himself in check.  

“…Can we—” He stopped, rolling his shoulders back as if that would somehow fix his problem.  

You smirked, arms crossed, enjoying this way too much. “Can we what, Sol?”  

His jaw tensed. He looked at you, then away, then back again—like he was debating whether he actually had the guts to say it. His fingers flexed at his sides before he finally gave up, resting his head back against the stall wall with a quiet groan.  

“…Help me out here?” His voice was strained, low enough that it barely carried over the hum of the bathroom fan.  

You blinked. “Oh?”  

Sol shot you a glare, but there was a hint of desperation beneath it, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.  

“Don’t make me say it,” he muttered.

You grinned, absolutely reveling in this. “Help you out?” you repeated, feigning innocence. “Sol, I’m not sure what you mean.”  

His glare sharpened, but the way his fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides betrayed him. He shifted, exhaling through his nose like he was trying to force some kind of patience into himself.  

“You know exactly what I mean,” he ground out, his voice thick with frustration.  

You tilted your head, tapping a finger against your chin. “Hmmm… I dunno. You’re gonna have to be more specific.”  

Sol let out a low, irritated growl, leaning in just enough to close the already small space between you. His eyes were dark, his jaw tight, and you could feel the heat radiating off him.  

“…You’re really gonna make me say it?” His voice had dipped lower, a quiet challenge woven into it.  

Your pulse skipped, but you kept up the act, arching a brow. “I mean, if you’re asking for my help, you should at least use your words, Sol.”  

He dragged a hand down his face again before gripping the edge of the stall, his knuckles white. “I hate you.”  

“You love me.”  

He scoffed but didn’t argue, which only made your grin widen.  

You had another teasing remark locked and loaded, ready to fire—but then your breath hitched. Just for a second.  

Because he stepped closer.  

Too close.  

The air in the stall shifted, heat radiating from him as he loomed over you, his expression unreadable. Your back pressed against the stall door instinctively, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to escape the weight of his stare.  

Your throat went dry as you swallowed.  

Fuck.

✑ 𝑔𝑒𝑜

The hotel was busy with the usual chaos that came with a trip involving your friend group—Crowe’s over-the-top plans, Sol’s constant complaints, and Brittany’s never-ending search for the perfect selfie lighting. You and Geo had just been about to head downstairs to meet up with the others when you suddenly groaned, realization hitting you like a brick.

“My sunglasses,” you muttered, already turning back toward the shared room. Geo sighed beside you, hands tucked into his pockets. “Seriously? You couldn’t have remembered before we left?”

You shot him a look as you grabbed the door handle. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect Memory. I’ll be sure to consult you next time before I breathe.”

He half smirked, unimpressed, as you pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Wouldn’t hurt.”

Rolling your eyes, you made your way to the nightstand where you were pretty sure you’d left them. 

Geo trailed in behind you, muttering something about how he should’ve just left you behind. But before he could make good on that threat, he paused, watching as you tossed your phone onto the bed.  

“You forgot sunscreen,” he pointed out.  

You groaned again, already annoyed. “It’s cloudy outside, I’ll be fine.”  

Geo folded his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Uh-huh. And when Crowe roasts you for looking ‘crispy’ in the group photos, I don’t want to hear it.”  

Sighing, you grabbed your sunglasses off the dresser. “I know, I know.” You huffed and reached for the sunscreen bottle on the counter. “But it’s fine. I’ll just do it real quick.”  

Begrudgingly, you squeezed some into your palm and started rubbing it onto your face. Geo made a noise of approval—until he actually saw what you were doing. His expression immediately shifted to disapproval, and he shook his head.  

“You’re doing it wrong,” he muttered, his usual calm demeanor just a little off. “You missed a spot.”  

You frowned. “Excuse me?”  

Before you could protest, Geo walked over and plucked the bottle from your hands. “Here. Let me—”  

Rolling your eyes, you lifted your chin to make sure you didn’t get a weird streak across your neck. “You’re supposed to just let me do it. I’ve got it.”  

Geo raised an eyebrow. “Let me help. You’ll burn otherwise.”  

You gave him a look. “Oh, please, I’ll be fine.”  

“You’re doing it wrong.”  

“Yeah, yeah, you said that.”

Geo sighed dramatically, stepping closer—the kind of sigh that meant he had no intention of letting it go. You barely managed to suppress a grin before he was right next to you, his hands gently but firmly adjusting your arms so he could rub the sunscreen in properly.  

“You’re gonna burn,” he muttered, his voice a little more intense than usual. You could hear the concern creeping through it, and despite yourself, you softened at the way he touched your shoulders with care, making sure every spot was covered.  

You stared up at him, unsure whether to laugh or groan at how overly concerned he was. “It’s just sunscreen, Geo. I can do it myself.”  

“No, you can’t,” he replied matter-of-factly, unscrewing the cap. “You always miss spots.”  

You shot him a playfully offended look. “I do not.”  

He glanced at you with an unimpressed eyebrow raise. “Really?”  

“…Fine, whatever.” You sighed, deciding it wasn’t worth arguing over sunscreen of all things. Besides, if there was anyone who knew skincare, it was Geo.  

He stepped closer, rubbing the sunscreen onto your shoulders. The cool lotion made you shiver slightly, but his touch was strangely gentle, careful not to be too rough. His hands moved with ease—practiced, almost—as if he’d done this before, and you let out a slow breath, focusing on the task at hand while he worked on your neck, your face, everywhere you’d missed.  

“Better?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper as he adjusted the way you were standing.  

You nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”  

“About time.” He smirked, stepping back to assess his work.  

Then, you heard it.  

The door handle clicked.  

Both of you froze, the room instantly turning too quiet.  

“…No.” You whispered, dread creeping in.  

It was Brittany.

“Why is she back so early?” you hissed, panic rising in your chest. 

Geo glanced at the door, then at the closet. Then at you. “You need to hide.”  

“What?”  

Before you could blink, he grabbed your arm, yanking you toward the closet. You barely had time to react before he practically shoved you inside, following right after and pulling the door shut just as Brittany entered the room.  

“Geo—”  

“I’m not dealing with this right now,” he whispered sharply.  

You barely managed to swallow back a retort before you heard Brittany moving around, shuffling through her things. You froze, pressing yourself against the closet wall, trying not to make a sound.  

Unfortunately, Geo had the same idea—only there wasn’t much space to work with.  

You were practically nose-to-nose, his chest lightly pressed against yours, every breath shared in the cramped darkness. It was suffocating, but not just because of the lack of space.  

You weren’t supposed to be here.  

You weren’t supposed to be with him like this.  

And yet, here you were, pressed close in a way that made every nerve in your body hyperaware.  

Geo shifted slightly, but the movement only made things worse, his hand brushing your waist as he adjusted his stance. His breath was warm against your cheek as he leaned in—so close that if Brittany weren’t in the room, you might’ve accused him of doing it on purpose.  

You swallowed. “Geo—”  

“Shhh.” His voice was barely more than a breath, the word a soft command that vibrated against the air between you. But there was something dangerously amused in the way he spoke, like he knew exactly what kind of mess he’d dragged you both into.  

“I told you, you need to be more careful.” Geo’s words were a low murmur as he leaned back against the closet wall, crossing his arms. His proximity was almost suffocating. You could feel the warmth of his body pressing into the space you barely had, his breath quickening just enough for you to catch it.  

“Oh, shut up.” You whispered back, unable to hold in a nervous laugh. The tension was palpable, a strange cocktail of adrenaline and something else that made your heart skip a beat. “You’re the one who shoved me in here.”  

“Yeah, well, I’m not trying to deal with Brittany walking in on us,” Geo’s voice dropped an octave, the irritation thick in his words. “Remember? No one knows we’re together yet.”  

You froze at his words, heart thudding a little faster. That was true—no one in the group knew. No one had ever seen you and Geo alone, and with him being the usually aloof and distant guy, everyone would be suspicious if they saw him helping you with sunscreen.  

The realization made your skin flush, and your stomach twisted with a mix of excitement and nervousness. How would Brittany react if she saw you two like this?  

You could hear Brittany moving around the room, rummaging through your things, her steps growing closer to the closet.  

And then, Geo was even closer, if that was even possible. You could practically feel the heat radiating from him, his body a mere inch away from yours. His presence filled the space, making everything feel suffocatingly intimate.  

“Geo…”  

His eyes flicked over to you, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch. He muttered under his breath, his lips brushing your ear just barely. “Shut up,” he snapped, the irritation in his voice mixed with something more—something that made your heart race even faster. “We need to stay quiet.”  

You bit your lip to hold back the laugh that threatened to spill out, but the way he was so close, the way you could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath, had your stomach doing somersaults. You shifted slightly, trying not to make a sound, but the cramped space left you with no room to escape the warmth of his body pressing into yours.

Brittany’s voice drifted through the room. “Where is my damn bag…”  

Your stomach twisted as Brittany’s footsteps drew closer—too close for comfort. You could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on you, the air growing thick with tension. Every movement felt like it might give you away, but Geo was quick to react.  

Without a moment's hesitation, Geo’s hand shot out, pressing firmly against the closet door. His fingers gripped the edge, holding it in place, the door threatening to creak from the pressure. His body tensed, muscles coiling under his shirt like a predator ready to spring into action at any moment.  

The space between you, already nonexistent, seemed to shrink even more, his arm hovering above your head, blocking the door. The way he positioned himself so close to you, his chest almost touching your back, only made the situation more intense. The faintest brush of his breath against your skin sent a shiver down your spine.  

Brittany’s hand gripped the door handle, turning it with a soft click. Geo’s body shifted subtly, every inch of his being still, but you could feel the power in his frame—he wasn’t going to let her open it.  

Your heart pounded in your chest, the silence so thick you could almost hear it. If she pushed harder, you would both be caught, and everything would fall apart. You could feel Geo's pulse quicken as he held the door steady, his arm a firm barrier above you, ensuring that nothing moved.  

The heat from his body, the tension in the air—it all felt like a warning. But you could only stand there, frozen, hoping that Brittany would just leave.

Brittany's hand tightened on the door handle, twisting it again, but Geo didn’t budge. His arm remained above your head, a solid barrier, his body blocking any possible movement. You could feel the gentle pressure of his chest against your back, steady and unyielding, as he silently willed the door to stay shut.  

Her hand tugged harder at the handle, and you could almost feel her frustration radiating through the wood. You held your breath, praying she wouldn’t push too hard, or worse, get suspicious. The seconds felt like hours.  

"Ugh, this door's stuck," Brittany muttered under her breath, sounding more annoyed than worried. “Guess I’ll have to ask one of the guys to open it for me later."  

Your heart skipped a beat. You could practically hear her disappointment, and you were certain she was none the wiser to the fact that she was so close to catching you both.  

Geo’s body slowly relaxed, his grip loosening just a fraction as she finally stepped away from the door, the soft thud of her footsteps retreating making the air feel a little less suffocating.  

You let out a quiet breath you didn't realize you were holding, the tension melting away for just a moment. Geo, however, didn’t move immediately. He stayed close, his hand still braced against the door, and his voice dropped to a low murmur, almost too soft to hear.  

"That was too close," he whispered, his words laced with the same urgency that had gripped you both moments before. 

"Yeah," you agreed softly, your voice barely audible. "Too close."  

Then, he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. His voice was barely above a whisper, low and edged with something unreadable. “We’re not supposed to be like this right now, you know?”  

You swallowed. “I know.”  

“And yet,” he murmured, almost amused.  

You barely resisted the urge to shove him. “We don’t have a choice.”  

Brittany’s footsteps halted just outside the closet, and your breath caught in your throat.  

“Is this my bag?” she muttered, rummaging through the room.  

Then, a sound that made your stomach drop—your ringtone.  

Geo tensed beside you, fingers pressing harder against the door to keep it shut. His body was practically caging you in, his heat radiating off him in the already suffocating space.  

Your pulse hammered in your ears. “You didn’t have to do this,” you whispered, barely moving your lips. “We could’ve just told her.”  

Geo let out a sharp breath, jaw tight. “Not now.”  

His tone was firm—final. No room for argument.  

You glanced up at him, catching the flicker of tension in his expression, but his gaze remained locked on Brittany, who now held up your phone with a triumphant look.  

“Found it! And I guess they left their phone under my bag,” she said, her voice growing fainter as she hurried toward the door.  

She turned, heading for the door.  

Only when you heard it click shut did Geo finally exhale, the tension in his body loosening—but his expression didn’t ease. Instead, his brows furrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line.  

You frowned. “What’s wrong?”  

Geo pulled his phone from his pocket, tilting the screen toward you.  

A single missed call. From him.  

Realization crashed into you like a wave. Your heart skipped a beat.  

“…Geo.”  

He’d called your phone. On purpose. To make sure it rang loud enough for Brittany to find her bag before she even thought about checking the closet.  

Geo exhaled heavily, glancing back at his phone. “I’m really not in the mood to tell them about us right now.”  

You shook your head, but before you could respond, the door creaked open just a fraction. Geo had already managed to free himself, and you didn’t even have time to protest. He wasn’t about to let this moment drag on any longer.  

Smart. Calculated. Unbelievably risky.  

And, worst of all, it worked.

✑ 𝒽𝓎𝓊𝑔𝑜 [ 𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝒹𝒹𝑒𝒹 ]

It had started with something innocent enough—Sol was sick. Too stubborn to admit it, of course, but sick nonetheless. He’d skipped class for the first time in forever, and when neither you nor Hyugo received your usual sarcastic texts from him throughout the day, it was clear something was wrong.  

Hyugo, ever the opportunist, had immediately latched onto the idea of sneaking into Sol’s place. “We can’t just let him rot in there alone,” he’d said, dramatically clutching his chest like this was some grand mission. “And besides, if he’s too weak to fight back, this might be our only shot at pulling off the perfect prank.”  

You had agreed—not for the prank, but because, despite Sol’s grumpy exterior, you actually cared. Hyugo did too, even if he’d never admit it outright.  

So, naturally, sneaking in was the next step.  

Getting inside was ridiculously easy. Sol had forgotten to lock his window, a mistake that would haunt him soon enough. Hyugo had hoisted himself up first, barely containing his laughter as he reached down to pull you through. You had landed in a crouch, both of you moving like trained professionals—except for the part where Hyugo knocked over a stack of books.  

You both froze.  

Silence.  

No yelling. No threats of immediate violence. Just the distant sound of Sol’s snoring from his living room. 

Hyugo had grinned, looking way too pleased with himself. “He’s dead asleep. Perfect.”  

And that’s how you ended up crouched beside him, hidden in Sol’s bedroom like two criminals, your mission shifting from simple food delivery to pure chaos.

You nudged Hyugo with your elbow, whispering, “Alright, we dropped off the food. Let’s go before he wakes up.”  

But Hyugo wasn’t even listening. His eyes were locked onto the narrow space beneath Sol’s bed, and you could practically hear the gears turning in his head.  

“You know what would make this even better?” he muttered, barely able to contain his grin.  

You sighed, already regretting whatever he was about to say. “I swear, if you—”  

“Hiding under his bed.”  

You stared at him. “You’re insane.”  

“And you love it,” he shot back, already lowering himself onto the floor. “C’mon, this is once-in-a-lifetime stuff. Imagine his face when we grab his ankles.”  

You wanted to argue. You really did. But the thought of Sol’s reaction, that brief moment of pure, unfiltered terror before rage inevitably set in? It was too good to pass up.  

“Fine,” you grumbled, sliding down next to him.  

Hyugo barely stifled his laughter as you both squeezed under the bed, pressed close in the cramped space. The scent of detergent mixed with Sol’s cologne, clinging to the air, but all you could really focus on was the warmth of Hyugo’s body against yours.  

He shifted slightly, his thigh brushing against yours, his breath hot against your skin.  

“Stop moving,” you whispered, trying to ignore the way your bodies were practically molded together.  

“I have to move,” he murmured, voice laced with amusement. “I’m not built for these conditions. Tell me, do all peasants live like this?”  

You scoffed, nudging him with your elbow—except the space was so tight, it ended up feeling more like a lingering touch.  

Hyugo let out a low chuckle, tilting his head slightly so his lips were close to your ear. “Careful,” he murmured, voice dripping with amusement. “If you keep touching me like that, I might start thinking you like being pressed up against me.”  

Your breath caught for just a second, and that was all he needed to smirk.  

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, but the way your body tensed against his didn’t go unnoticed.  

Hyugo only grinned, voice a playful whisper. “And yet, here you are, trapped with me. So close.”

You swallowed, trying to ignore the way his voice sent a shiver down your spine. The space under the bed was suffocatingly small, but it wasn’t the lack of air that was making your heart pound—it was him.

Hyugo shifted again, deliberately this time, his body pressing just a little firmer against yours. His hand found your hip, fingers barely brushing over the fabric of your shirt. “You know,” he mused, voice slow and teasing, “I think I could get used to this.”  

You narrowed your eyes at him in the dim lighting. “Hyugo.”  

“Yes, sweetie?” He grinned, using that damn pet name that always made your stomach do flips.  

You exhaled sharply, trying to keep your composure. “Focus. We’re supposed to be scaring Sol, not—”  

“Not what?” he interrupted, leaning in slightly. “Not making things… interesting?” His voice dipped, low and smooth as if he was daring you to react.  

Your fingers twitched against the cold floor. “You’re unbelievable.”  

“And yet, you still let yourself get stuck here with me,” he murmured, thumb grazing over your hip before he pulled away just enough to let the tension settle in.  

You were about to retort when footsteps sounded from the hallway—Sol’s, unmistakable and approaching fast.  

Hyugo smirked, eyes gleaming in the dark. “Showtime.”  

The sound of the door opening made both of you freeze. Footsteps—heavy, familiar. Sol’s voice grumbled something under his breath as he stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind him.

Hyugo inhaled sharply beside you. You could feel his excitement radiating off him.

Sol let out a long sigh before muttering, “Finally.” There was a shuffle, a soft thud as he tossed something onto his bed. More footsteps, pacing. You could barely make out his silhouette through the slats of the bed frame.

Hyugo gave you a silent count with his fingers. Three… two…

One.

Without hesitation, both of you reached out and grabbed his ankles.

Sol let out a noise that was not human.

It was somewhere between a grunt and a strangled shout, followed by a blur of motion as he leaped onto his bed like it was a lifeboat and the floor was shark-infested waters.

“The fuck—?!”

Hyugo was already wheezing beside you, gripping his stomach as he tried to contain his laughter. You were barely holding it together yourself.

Sol, meanwhile, was not amused.

His head poked over the side of the bed, eyes dark with fury. “Are you two out of your damn minds?!”

Hyugo finally lost it, bursting into a fit of laughter as he rolled out from under the bed. “That scream!” he gasped between laughs. “Oh my god, I think I ascended.”

You crawled out after him, grinning as you dusted yourself off. “Totally worth it.”

Sol narrowed his eyes. “You put him up to this, didn’t you?”

Hyugo draped an arm around your shoulder, still grinning. “Actually, it was my idea. But they were an excellent accomplice.”

Sol exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Both of you are insufferable.”

“Aw, don’t be mad, Sol,” Hyugo teased, poking him in the arm. “We only traumatized you a little.”

“You’re lucky I don’t throw both of you out that window,” Sol muttered, flopping back on his bed with an exhausted sigh.

Hyugo leaned in a little closer, his usual mischievous grin softening just a touch, as if the playful moment had shifted to something more genuine. With a sudden, almost teasing move, he placed a quick, unexpected kiss on your cheek. The touch was brief but warm, and as he pulled back, his eyes gleamed with satisfaction, clearly enjoying the chaos he had caused. “Mission: success,” he whispered, the tone laced with a quiet, victorious amusement.

You blinked, momentarily stunned by the surprise, your heart doing a little flip before a smirk tugged at your lips. “What was that for?” you asked, trying to mask the flutter in your chest with feigned indifference.

Hyugo simply shrugged, the playful spark never leaving his eyes. “For being an accomplice, of course,” he said, his voice light, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And despite the teasing, despite everything, you couldn't help but smile. 

God, you loved his silly ass.

[rotagnus]

your good qualities --<3

physical, mental, spiritual, etc. i feel like everyone could always use some encouragement!

pick one of the top images, from 1 to 3.

pile 1.

you're a very proud person. don't take this the wrong way!! when your friend succeeds, you hype them up like no other. when someone is good at something, you compliment them, and you're proud of them. you make everyone feel like they're loved, and you have a tendency to make people, especially men, feel like they're the only one in the world when you're paying attention to them. not just men, though--a lot of women look up to you and see you as a motherly/sisterly figure. you face challenges head on, and you don't let anybody step on you or your people. you're extremely loyal, almost to a fault. you have a big heart. you're also very easy to look at--your features are picturesque, and you'd definitely be in a renaissance painting if you existed then. you have graceful, swan-like features, and your movements are very languid. you also don't judge people by their appearance, and people feel extremely comfortable around you, sweetheart.

pile 2.

speaking of sweethearts! aren't you an absolute darling. you're a little bit naive, but you see the good in people without doubting them. you truly do inspire people to be the best version of themselves. you come from a place of isolation and pain--you've truly built yourself up out of a very difficult past. you were terrified of change, but you became it. you have this unquenchable desire for growth, and this makes the people associate you with positive occurrences. you make people feel like they're in a movie--you bring people happiness with the way that you're bubbly and bright. i think a lot of you were ashamed of this quality, and you didn't really speak a lot in the past, but you shouldn't ever dim your spark for anyone. physically, you may have a darker appearance--maybe some of you are alternative, or have darker features. this is a bit contrasting to your bright persona, but it makes a beautiful mixture that pulls people in soooo sooo deeply.

pile 3.

you're willing to see everyone as someone forgivable. you don't judge people easily. cause of this, you make friends easily, and people are also easily attracted to you. however this can be bad, too, because you can develop people who only want one thing from you, dear :(. you're everything to some people--their pillar, their heart, their sun. you're also very blunt and sharp with your words. you don't soften the meaning of what you say for anyone, and this is a very admirable quality to certain people you meet. there's a lot of lies in this world, dear. you're not a liar. you're very rooted in your faith, too--you may talk a lot about God/the universe, and this makes people want to listen. you have a very compelling voice, and something about your eyes--people get lost in them when you speak.

[scoupsakakitty]

Betrayal Under The Stage Lights pt.2 | Seventeen x 14thMember | fluff

The room remained silent long after Y/N left. The weight of their words, their accusations, lingered in the air like an unshakable storm cloud. No one dared to speak, no one wanted to admit what they all began to realize their mistake.

Mingyu ran a frustrated hand through his hair, the guilt settling deep in his chest. “We messed up, didn’t we?”

Jihoon exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “No, we didn’t just mess up. We completely turned on her without thinking.”

Joshua sat down heavily on the couch, rubbing his face with his hands. “We should have listened. We should have trusted her.”

Seungcheol, usually so sure of his decisions, felt a rare sense of self-doubt gnawing at him. His mind replayed the scene over and over Y/N’s devastated expression, her voice laced with desperation as she defended herself. And they had ignored it.

“She must hate us now,” Seokmin mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

Jeonghan, for once, had no witty remark, no clever way to deflect the situation. Instead, he sighed deeply. “We need to fix this.”

Y/N sat alone in her room, the echoes of their accusations still fresh in her mind. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to make them feel even a fraction of what she had felt. But more than anything, she just felt… tired.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. At first, she ignored it, expecting them to give up. But the knocking persisted. With an annoyed sigh, she stood up and pulled the door open only to find all thirteen members standing outside, looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

Mingyu, standing in the front, suddenly dropped to his knees. “Y/N, I was an idiot. No—worse than an idiot. I don’t even have a word for how dumb I was. Please, please forgive me.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. “You’re really kneeling?”

“Yes,” Mingyu said without hesitation. “I’ll stay here all night if I have to.”

Seungcheol cleared his throat, stepping forward. “We all made a huge mistake. We let frustration cloud our judgment, and we blamed you without any proof. That was wrong. You didn’t deserve that.”

“We should have believed in you,” Joshua added, his usual warmth returning to his voice. “You’re our family.”

One by one, they all spoke up, each admitting their faults, each apologizing sincerely. Even Jihoon, who rarely showed emotions so openly, muttered, “I was too quick to judge. I’m sorry.”

Y/N took her time, letting them squirm under her scrutiny. She could see the genuine regret on their faces, the desperation in their eyes. And a wicked idea formed in her mind.

She sighed dramatically, placing a hand on her hip. “I don’t know… maybe I should just leave the group.”

The reaction was immediate.

“What?!”

“No, no, no!”

“Y/N, please, don’t even joke about that!”

Seungkwan looked ready to burst into tears. “I swear, if this is because of us—”

“I’ll do anything!” Mingyu pleaded. “I’ll cook for you for a year! I’ll do your laundry! I’ll—”

Y/N burst into laughter, unable to hold back any longer. “Relax, I was just messing with you.”

The collective groan that followed was almost comical. Seungcheol placed a hand over his heart, exhaling in relief. “Don’t do that! I nearly had a heart attack.”

Jeonghan narrowed his eyes. “You’re evil.”

Y/N smirked. “That’s what you get for doubting me.”

Despite their moment of panic, the mood shifted almost instantly. Hoshi pulled Y/N into a bone-crushing hug, and soon, the others piled on, a mess of tangled limbs and relieved laughter.

“Still mad at us?” Vernon asked as they finally pulled away.

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled. “I should be. But I guess I’ll forgive you guys. Just this once.”

They all cheered, and for the first time that night, everything felt right again.

“Well… on one condition,” Y/N added, crossing her arms. “I want my favorite ice cream.”

Without hesitation, Dino shot up. “I got it! I’ll get it right now!” And before anyone could react, he was already sprinting out the door.

The others laughed, shaking their heads as they watched him go. Finally, things were back to normal.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 24

masterpost

“We should make H— Jason spend some time in here,” Danny said. He was good with the rest of the name now, but he still struggled with with Jason. He was trying. “He could use the reason to relax.”

“I do not believe that Todd is capable of relaxing,” Damian said with a little frown and Danny was pretty sure meant Damian was uncertain, but other people tended to think that it meant Damian was judging them.

“Sure he can. He makes a great pillow too,” Danny said. He leaned over and bumped his shoulders against Damian’s. “Totally bet if you just just sat down and leaned against him, he wouldn’t do anything.”

“Tch.”

“Okay, sure, half of that would be because he’d be too shocked, but really. He’s secretly a cuddler but, like, in a totally different way than Dick. Jason is more like Cass is.”

Damian’s brows were knitted together, but he gave a considering little nod at that.

Danny was glad that Damian went through the door to the hall first. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, exactly, but being out of the apartment now felt wrong and bad and… scary. Danny knew that had delayed them taking him to the Manor and was making some of them anxious, but Danny just couldn’t… it was hard to shake, even if everywhere they went had been safe.

“How were the kittens, Dandelion?” Jason asked. He was leaning against one wall and Lacey stood next to him, looking at something on her phone.

“Pointy,” Danny said with a little smile, “and very cute.”

“We are going to go see the dogs now instead,” Damian said.

“Okay,” Lacey said with a smile. “Your brother and I were talking about what might work for you. I think we have a few options, but I actually have someone in mind for you to meet first of the bunch. She might not work at all but… I have a hunch.”

“As ludicrous as it sounds, Ms. Lacey’s hunches do often play out,” Damian said. “Which dog are we going to see?”

“You haven’t met her yet. She just came here from another shelter because the last one didn’t have the space for her. Before that she was out in the suburbs where she had been adopted, but she kept trying to herd all the other animals and children. They got her from a shelter where she had been surrendered by her owners because they moved to a new apartment that wouldn’t let a dog like her in.”

Danny frown grew as Lacey talked. “Oh, wow… she’s been through a lot of homes, hasn’t she?”

“She has, and it’s really not her fault. She’s only a year and a half old, so she’s still a bit of a puppy and will need training, but she’s a real sweetheart and I think she just needs the right person to love her back.” Lacey paused in front of a door and opened it to some sort of waiting room. “Now, she is a large dog, so I’ll keep her on a harness when I bring him in and you let me know when you’re comfortable for her to come close, okay?”

“Okay,” Danny agreed. He knew he had told Damian not small, but he was suddenly a little concerned by how large was large.

Jason must have been able to tell, because he led Danny over to the small couch to sit down with him while Damian scooted the chair he chose closer to Danny’s open side.

Very, was the answer to how large was large a few minutes later when Lacey brought in a huge dog. The bright red harness barely visible through the mass of black fur that seemed to stand straight out from the dog in a massive mane.

“Okay, come on girl, down,” Lacey said, drawing out the words.

When the large, deep black eyes turned to her, she pointed purposefully at the ground. The dog huffed and settled on the floor looking like some avant guard throw pillow. She snuffed curiously at the group and shuffled forward a few inches on her belly before peering up at Lacey to see if she was noticed.

“Stay. Like I said, still a puppy,” Lacey said fondly.

“What breeds do we suspect she is?” Damian asked.

“She’s definitely a large part chow,” Lacey answered. “She has the black mouth and everything. We’re guessing black lab maybe as some of the rest or some other sporting dog. From those breeds, and her behavior so far, she’s going to be loyal and protective. She will need to be exercised as specially at this age she’ll have a lot of energy, but I know you have the yard to let her run. Fetch or retrieval games will be great stimulation for her and walks can probably be kept pretty short, but I know that Damian could help you train her. Do you want to come over here and let her smell your hand? Or we could just let her settle in and wander the room.”

“I’ll, um…” Danny trailed off as he moved to sit down on the ground at Jason’s feet. He leaned forward and offered his hand, stretching out as far as he could.

The mass of fluff crept forward a few inches, then a few more, and the last few to where she was close enough to sniff at Danny’s hand. The curly tail started to wag before the dog gave Danny’s hand a lick.

A small smile lit up Danny’s face. “Oh, you’re just a big fluffy sweetheart, aren’t you?”

“She really is. She gives me the biggest puppy dog eyes every time someone passes her and doesn’t give her attention. She really wants nothing more than to be with people or other pets and part of a family,” Lacey said.

Danny watched the dog snuff at Danny’s hand before he decided that it was probably okay to move forward a little more so that he could pet the dog. His fingers sank into the thick black fur and the curly tail started to wag.

“She’s kinda like a big teddy bear,” Danny said, completely missing the look that Damian and Jason exchanged behind his back at that statement.

“Chows are like that.,” Lacey agreed. “They get a bad rep because they can be really protective of their owners, so if she’s the dog you go with, you will need to work on socializing her. Taking her to the dog park or things like that would be a good step.”

“It will help that there is such a large amount of family and acquaintances coming and going from the manor,” Damian added. “But if she is the dog that will be yours, we can easily set up a plan for socialization.”

“I, um, I’ve never adopted a pet before. How do I know if she’s the right one?” Danny asked.

“Seeing if you get a long is a good start. With a big dog like her, I think you should walk him a little and play some. We can try some tricks too and see how she listens to you,” Lacey said. “We have a two week trial window where if you think she’s the right dog, she’ll go home with you and you can see how it all works out. If it doesn’t, she comes back here no issues.”

Danny took in a calming breath and let it out. “Okay, let’s see how it goes.”

The dog was a lot. There was no doubt about that what with her size, but she did seem very eager to listen. She apparently walked very well with Danny, even if that was almost sandwiched up against Danny’s side between him and the road. It reminded him of how Jason always walked, as if guarding Danny from the world.

There back at the shelter now. Danny buried his fingers in the dog’s thick fur, ruffling it idly.

“What do you guys think?” he asked his brothers.

“I think that she will be a loyal dog for you,” Damian said, “and that training her may also be beneficial for you.”

“That,” Jason said, “and that she likes you already just like you like her already. I think the only real question is what’s her name going to be?”

Danny looked down at the almost bottomless seeming brown eyes that were staring adoringly back up at him. “Ursa. Her name’s Ursa.”

-

Ursa took to the Manor immediately— or at least took next to being by Danny’s side in the manor. His bed seemed much smaller with her laying next to him, but he had a feeling it he woke up that night with a nightmare that it wouldn’t last long.

His fingers tightened in her mane as he took a breath and hit send on the text message to Babs.

Her name is Jasmine Fenton.