#Photo Editing Master Course

[graphicdesign9]

You can improve your image editing skills with the help of Photo Editing Course in Delhi at the Graphic Design Institute. It gets you ready for assignments at work and at home.

[dior-luxury]

i dont know if your requests are open but if they are can you pretty please make a part 2 of the how they'd propose to you with other characters like Sebek and Ruggie and anyone else you would like? (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

How'd They Propose To You

PT.1 [trey clover . jack howl . jade leech . jamil viper . epel felmier . silver] PT.2 [cater . ruggie . floyd . kailm . vil . rook . idia . lilia . sebek]

( ✧ ) ────── boyfriend stories . fluff - gn!reader .

- [𝐜𝐡.] cater . ruggie . floyd . kailm . vil . rook . idia . lilia . sebek

- [𝐩:𝐬] nothing . just the boys being romantic

Note: This series like my 'Kiss And Make-out' series was heavily request so... Part two, here we go!! Also everyone, get your tissues out cause this is going to be an emotional one.. 😭

Cater Diamond

Cater always made everything look effortless. From his impeccably filtered Magicam photos to his playful, lighthearted persona, he was the guy who breezed through life like a summer wind — colorful, vibrant, and hard to pin down. But the moment he realized he wanted to spend his life with you, the thought terrified him. Not because he didn’t want it — but because he did.

You’d been together for a while, enough to see past his curated charm and into the subtle sadness he kept hidden behind his eyes. You saw the moments when his smile faltered just a second too soon, when he stared at old class photos for a beat too long, when he tried too hard to make everyone like him. And despite it all, or maybe because of it, you stayed. You loved him, not the persona.

He wanted to return that love with everything he had.

So he planned it down to the second. Not flashy, not performative, but genuine. A proposal just for you two — no hashtags, no likes, no audience.

You were led on a surprise “casual date” through campus, each place tied to a memory: the greenhouse where you first studied together, the corner of the courtyard where you surprised him with lunch one day, the little music room where you once caught him playing guitar alone. At each spot, he left a small printed Polaroid of the memory, with scribbled notes like “Can you believe you caught me blushing here?” or “Still the best sandwich I’ve ever had, btw.”

Finally, you arrived at the abandoned tower that overlooked the rose gardens. It was dusk — golden hour. A string of soft lights framed the edge of the balcony, and a blanket lay spread out with two drinks, his favorite strawberry soda, and your favorite too.

Cater stood there, not in any extravagant outfit, but in his everyday clothes, a little flushed, a little nervous. His Magicam was nowhere in sight.

“I know I’m not always easy to read,” he began, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “I’m a master of filters. And honestly? I’ve spent most of my life trying to be someone that other people like. But with you… I don’t have to be anyone else. You make me feel like being just ‘Cater’ is enough.”

He knelt, pulling out a small velvet box that he almost dropped because his hands were shaking.

“So… if you’ll have me, for all the mess, the moods, and the million selfies — will you marry me? And keep reminding me that being myself is okay?”

His voice cracked, and you could tell it wasn’t a line rehearsed for flair. It was Cater Diamond, bare and honest.

You said yes, of course.

And that night, he took one photo — just one — of the two of you silhouetted against the golden light, laughing through your tears.

No filters. No edits.

Just love.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie Bucchi never thought he’d be the type to propose. Where he came from, marriage was practical, not romantic. You partnered up, you made it work, and you did your best to survive. Love? That was a luxury. He grew up knowing how to scrape by, how to hustle, how to keep smiling when your stomach was empty.

But then he met you — and everything shifted.

You saw past his tricks and street-smart charm, past the sly grin and the mischievous glint in his eyes. You saw someone capable. Someone worth loving, not just useful. And that meant more to him than he ever let on.

He saved for months. Scrimped every madol he could without you noticing. Side jobs, extra errands, even turning down a few schemes with Leona when they felt too risky. He wanted this to be his, something he earned with his own effort. Not flashy — but real.

One day, he invited you to his hometown. He played it off as casual — “Hey, wanna see where the magic began?” — but you could tell he was more nervous than usual. His tail twitched a little more. His jokes came faster. He wouldn’t meet your eyes for too long.

You arrived in the Slums of the Sunset Savanna, where he grew up. It was loud, dusty, and full of kids shouting and running barefoot in the alleys. But Ruggie looked… peaceful. At home. He gave you a tour like it was the royal palace — proudly showing you the bakery where he got day-old bread, the crumbling wall he used to climb for fruit, the school where he taught himself to read better.

That evening, he brought you to a quiet hill just outside the neighborhood. It overlooked the city, bathed in orange from the setting sun.

There was a picnic spread, nothing fancy — some homemade snacks, cold drinks, and a little bread pudding he tried (and failed) to make look neat. The bread was a little burnt. He kept muttering that it wasn't perfect.

And then, out of nowhere, he said:

“Y’know… I used to think I’d just grow up, keep scrappin’ my way through life, maybe end up old and alone with a bunch of stolen pies under my belt.”

He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

“But then you came along and messed it all up — in the best way.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a tiny, slightly lopsided ring box. Inside was a simple band with a small, pale gem. Not expensive. Not glittery.

But made with his whole heart.

“I don’t got a palace. I don’t got riches or magic castles or nothin’. But I got you, and I wanna spend every day makin’ you smile. So… what do you say? Wanna keep causing trouble together… forever?”

His ears were flat against his head, and his tail was still as stone.

When you said yes, he lit up like the stars were inside him.

And he never stopped smiling after that.

Floyd Leech

Loving Floyd was like dancing with a storm: unpredictable, wild, sometimes overwhelming — but breathtakingly beautiful. He could be sweet one second, biting the next, and then melting into your arms like seafoam. And through it all, there was something real behind his mercurial moods — a strange, raw devotion that ran deeper than the ocean.

So when Floyd started acting… weirdly consistent, you knew something was up.

No wild mood swings. No threats to squeeze someone into a pretzel. Just this quiet intensity in the way he looked at you, like he was memorizing your every blink.

He’d drag you along for “dates” that were more like mini adventures: exploring underwater caves off the Coral Sea coast, racing each other through twisted kelp forests, picnicking on giant sea turtles (you hoped it was legal). He’d laugh, splash you, nibble your ears when you weren’t looking — but then fall completely silent when you watched the sunset over the waves.

That silence carried something unspoken. Something serious.

Then one day, he brought you to the edge of the Mostro Lounge after hours. No lights. No music. Just the dark water shimmering under moonlight. Jade had subtly cleared the area, probably under Floyd’s “friendly encouragement.”

Floyd stood by the pool, barefoot, wearing loose, sea-salt-dried clothes. He looked wild and untamed, like he’d just swum from the abyss.

“Ne~ shrimpy,” he started, voice low and lilting. “You really stuck around this long, huh?”

He didn’t look at you at first. He stared at the water, watching it ripple like something might rise from it.

“Most people get scared. They say I’m too much—too loud, too weird, too hard to keep up with. Even Jade gets tired of me sometimes, y'know?”

He turned, and for once, his eyes weren’t playful. They were clear — crystalline, serious.

“But you… You let me be me. Even when I’m a pain in the tailfin.”

He stepped forward and pressed a tiny shell into your hand. At first glance, it looked ordinary — until it opened with a soft click, revealing a shimmering, black pearl nestled in its center like a star trapped in the deep.

His hand slipped into yours, fingers squeezing tight.

“So, what d’ya say? Wanna be my forever shrimpy? I can’t promise I won’t get bored sometimes or drag you into weird stuff… but I can promise I’ll never leave. ‘Cause when I say you’re mine, I mean it.”

He grinned then — sharp teeth and all — but there was a rare softness to it.

When you said yes, he scooped you up, twirled you into the air, and shouted your name into the sea breeze like it belonged to him now.

Because, well… it did.

Kalim Al-Asim

His love was the kind of love that sparkled — joyful, loud, radiant. He loved with everything. And when he realized he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, there was no hesitation. No fear. Just overflowing excitement and the desire to make it perfect.

So naturally… the entire city had to know.

You started noticing little hints. He’d smile at you longer than usual. Ask strange questions like “What’s your favorite kind of flower, just hypothetically?” or “Do you like fireworks or doves better? No reason!”

But the day of the proposal? He kept it hidden perfectly.

You were invited to a “casual dinner” at the Al-Asim family estate — nothing fancy, he swore! When you arrived, the garden was transformed into something out of a dream: floating lanterns bobbed gently in the air, casting a golden glow; fragrant jasmine vines curled around the trellises; rose petals lined the walkways in careful spirals.

And in the center of it all stood Kalim, wearing a white and gold sherwani embroidered with intricate sun motifs — custom-made, obviously.

He took your hand and pulled you close, his smile so big it looked like it hurt.

“Surprise!! Okay okay, I know I said this wasn’t a big deal, but I might’ve lied a little,” he admitted, practically vibrating with excitement. “I wanted this to be special. Because you are.”

He led you through the garden, pointing out little scenes — memories you’d shared together recreated in glowing, magical dioramas. The first time he gave you a ride on his flying carpet. The time you accidentally got stuck in the rain together and danced anyway. Even the first time he tripped and landed face-first in a pile of fruit during a festival. Each one floated in a soft golden shimmer like preserved dreams.

Finally, at the very end of the path, the lights dimmed. Music began — a quiet, melodic tune played by a live ensemble hidden behind silk screens.

Kalim dropped to one knee, pulling out a ring so stunning it looked like it belonged in a treasure vault: warm rose gold shaped like the sun, with a diamond center surrounded by sunstone and opal, glowing faintly with enchantment.

His voice trembled slightly, but his eyes never left yours.

“I know I’m… a lot. Loud, excitable, maybe too much sometimes. But my heart? It’s yours. Every day. Every moment. I want to fill your life with so much joy you forget what sadness feels like. Will you… will you marry me?”

You could barely answer before fireworks burst overhead in a dazzling cascade of color — forming your name, a heart, and then the words “Will You Marry Me?” again for good measure.

He laughed, teary-eyed, pulling you into a spinning hug the moment you said yes, nearly tripping over a pile of lanterns.

And he swore — over spiced sweets and glowing stars — that loving you would always be the most joyful celebration of his life.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil Schoenheit had always been perfection incarnate.

He chose his words carefully, curated his life down to the last detail, and ruled over every room he entered with grace and quiet authority. But love? Love was unpredictable. Messy. Vulnerable.

And yet… with you, he chose it anyway.

For months, he kept the idea of proposing buried beneath a polished exterior. Not because he doubted your love — no, never that — but because he feared imperfection. What if the moment wasn’t enough? What if his words failed him? What if he wasn’t enough?

But one morning, as you were wrapped in a robe, sipping tea while lazily flipping through one of his scripts, looking utterly unbothered by the world — his world — he knew. No stage could rival this.

Still… he had to make it perfect.

The proposal wasn’t sudden. It unfolded like a symphony — days of subtle preparation, each moment building toward the crescendo. First, a handwritten invitation slipped under your door, sealed with gold wax in his personal crest. It read:

“You are cordially invited to an evening of celebration — for a love that deserves the finest stage. Wear what makes you feel radiant. The rest… is mine to handle.”

You arrived at a private rooftop garden in the heart of Maquillaville— Vil’s favorite filming location. Every inch of it had been transformed: strings of enchanted lights that pulsed like heartbeats, violet roses laced with flecks of gold, a crystal runway leading to a single, candlelit platform under the stars.

Vil stood at the end of it, not in a costume, not in a role — just himself. Beautiful, yes, but bare. No stage makeup. No lenses. Just Vil, with his natural elegance and a look in his eyes like he was seeing you and only you.

As you approached, music swelled from invisible instruments — soft piano and violins, as if the stars themselves were holding their breath.

Vil took your hands, his thumb stroking your wrist gently.

“I have played many roles,” he said quietly. “A prince. A villain. A monarch. But none… none compare to the part I’ve played in your life — myself. No masks. No script. You have loved me.”

He lowered himself to one knee, not out of tradition, but reverence. The ring was an opalescent band shaped like a flower in full bloom — not ostentatious, but hauntingly beautiful. Regal. Just like him.

“And I want to spend the rest of my days proving that I am more than a face on a screen. That I am yours — wholly, imperfectly, and honestly. Will you marry me, my dearest?”

Your yes was the kind of answer that echoed through your soul. And when you kissed — fireworks didn’t go off.

But you could’ve sworn the stars shifted.

Rook Hunt

To love Rook Hunt was to walk the edge of obsession — not in a dangerous way, but in a way that made you feel seen. Utterly seen. No piece of you, no habit or flaw, escaped his gaze. And he loved every detail with fervor and poetry.

So, when Rook decided to propose, it wasn’t a question of if or even how. It was a question of when the moment would feel like destiny.

And he waited for it with the patience of a hunter watching from the trees — breathless, quiet, focused.

It came during an autumn evening. The forest outside campus was bathed in gold and amber light, the air crisp and still. He asked you to take a walk, his tone casual, but there was a certain gleam in his eyes. The kind that made your heart stir.

He led you into the woods, deeper than usual, through a path dappled with falling leaves and faint trails of candlelight — candles placed just out of reach, like fireflies guiding you toward something sacred.

Eventually, you came upon a small, open glade. In its center stood a circle of white lilies and dried pampas grass, arranged with almost ceremonial care. Strings of paper birds fluttered from the trees — cranes, owls, hawks — each meticulously folded and each with a word written inside: Admiration. Fascination. Devotion. Enchantment.

You turned to Rook, who now stood behind you with that soft, unreadable smile.

“Mon trésor,” he breathed, voice velvet-smooth. “You are my greatest muse. The most magnificent mystery I’ve ever encountered. I have followed your footsteps, your laughter, your sorrow — and I find myself always… captivated.”

He circled around you like a dancer, his hand brushing your cheek, then resting over your heart.

“To hunt is not merely to chase — it is to understand. To behold. And I understand now that no beauty compares to yours. No thrill equals the way my heart stirs when you smile.”

Then, with the flourish of a magician revealing his final act, he drew from his coat a black-velvet box — aged and worn, like an heirloom passed through generations. He knelt, the golden leaves falling around him like confetti from the sky.

Inside, the ring was unlike anything you’d seen: a twisting band of silver and moss-green enamel, crowned with a delicate white diamond shaped like a feather — symbolizing the pursuit, the admiration, and finally, the surrender.

“Would you, my radiant one, do me the indescribable honor… of being mine, forever? Not as prey. Not as an object. But as the one I choose to walk beside, for all my days?”

When you said yes, Rook exhaled — deeply, reverently — and kissed your hand as if pledging allegiance to a monarch.

Idia Shroud

Proposal? Marriage? Social interaction? That was high-tier anxiety content for him. Even the thought of confessing to you, back when it all started, had nearly sent him into a shutdown spiral.

But now, here you were — his person. The one who understood his silences, who gamed beside him through 72-hour dungeon crawls, who sat beside him in eerie, comforting stillness while the blue glow of his hair flickered in thought. Loving you felt like logging into a private server only the two of you could access — quiet, secure, and safe.

And Idia, for all his dramatics and gloom-posting, loved you with an intensity that didn’t need fanfare. Just… data. And intention.

So, when he decided to propose, he made it a quest.

Literally.

You received a handmade invitation on your phone one morning: "Player 2, your presence is requested for a legendary raid. Final boss: Emotional Vulnerability. Rewards: Eternal Love + Rare Ring Drop. Do you accept?"

He built the whole thing himself: a pixel-art RPG styled just like your favorite fantasy games. The title? “Shroud.exe: A Love Story.”

As you played through it, you encountered your story together — from your first awkward hangouts in the Ignihyde dorm, to the moment you held his hand during a panic attack, to every late-night cuddle session where his hair dimmed peacefully beside you. Every NPC was a digital recreation of your favorite characters (Ortho, obviously, had an adorable role as the overly enthusiastic love-coach sidekick).

Each level was built with custom dialogue, full of Idia’s signature wit and fourth-wall breaking commentary:

“This is the part where MC doesn’t leave me despite my trash social skills. Truly S-tier behavior.”

“Warning: Final boss approaching. His defense stats are ridiculous but he’s got a glass heart. Weak to unconditional love.”

Finally, at the end of the game, the final cutscene began. And instead of sprites on screen, the video feed switched to live camera.

There he was.

Idia. Sitting in his room. Nervously fiddling with something in his hands — a small velvet box. His flame-hair flickered erratically, and he was in a carefully chosen outfit you’d never seen him wear before. Formal, but still unmistakably him.

He looked directly at the camera — right at you.

“I, uh… I figured I should do this in a way that makes sense for me. For us. Not in some overhyped, real-world, normie way with candles and violins and… people.” He cringed just saying that last part.

“But I wanted it to be real. So… here I am.”

He opened the box with trembling fingers. Inside was a ring shaped like a circuit loop, inlaid with glowing lapis and delicate code etchings — the ones you both designed together for fun once. The pattern pulsed faintly with light.

“I’m not good at words IRL, but I can say this: You’re my favorite co-op partner. You made all my side quests feel like main storyline material. So, will you… like, marry me? And maybe keep patching me for the rest of our lives?”

You didn’t even need the dialogue box to appear.

You just whispered "Yes" to the screen — and moments later, Ortho popped into the game world cheering with pixel fireworks in the background.

You looked up — and there Idia was, standing awkwardly in your doorway, holding the ring in real-time. Blushing furiously. Looking like he’d risked everything.

And when you kissed him — he glitched. Heart racing. Code crashing.

And he didn’t want to reboot. Ever.

Lilia Vanrouge

He had watched centuries pass like seasons. He’d lived through empires and starlight, laughter and war. He’d known many things — joy, grief, loyalty, loss — but love? True, soul-deep love? That was rare. Precious.

You, however, had changed that.

He never planned to fall for you. It simply happened. Like a song that begins as a hum and ends in a chorus that takes your breath away. With every shared moment — your laugh, your clever comebacks, your kindness — you pulled him out of memory and rooted him firmly in the now.

And so, one day, when the time felt quiet and right — he began to prepare.

The proposal wasn’t flashy. It was intimate. Lilia’s style had always been part mischief, part myth, part poetry. And so, he invited you to a place he hadn’t shown anyone in centuries.

A clearing deep within Briar Valley’s forest — hidden beneath vines and weeping trees, where the moonlight filtered through like silver lace. Fireflies lit the air in lazy constellations. In the center stood an old, stone ruin covered in moss — a place once sacred to the fae.

Lilia held your hand and stepped into the clearing with you, a small smile on his lips.

“Do you know what this place was?” he asked, voice soft like dusk. “It was a fae courting ground. We used to come here when we were ready to say, ‘This is it. This is the one I’ll write songs about.’”

You blinked at him — heart stuttering.

He stepped back from you, then lifted his hand. Magic shimmered like crushed moonlight around his fingers. With one slow motion, the ruins bloomed to life — glowing vines wrapping around pillars, flowers that hadn't blossomed in centuries opening in a swirl of glowing petals. The whole grove sighed, as if exhaling from a deep sleep.

“I’ve done many things,” Lilia said, stepping closer again, eyes shining. “I’ve lived through battles and lullabies. But I’ve never done this. Never wanted to. Not until you.”

He reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out a delicate silver ring carved in the shape of intertwined bat wings and thorns, centered with a faintly glowing green stone that looked like a captured firefly.

Kneeling — he looked up at you, unguarded and eternal.

“You have made my immortality feel like a blessing again. Would you walk with me through what years I have left, and let me love you through each one? Will you marry me?”

The forest held its breath with you.

When you said yes, his smile was the softest thing you’d ever seen. He pulled you close — kissed you slowly — and whispered, “Then we’ll write a love story even time won’t forget.”

Sebek Zigvolt

For a long time, Sebek Zigvolt didn’t understand love. Not in the way he understood duty, or training, or the fierce loyalty he bore for Lord Malleus. Love was… unpredictable. Emotional. Disruptive.

But when he began to feel it — first in small ways, like watching you speak with others and getting irrationally flustered, or the way your touch lingered in his mind for days — he was angry at it. Frustrated.

And yet, you stayed. Through his yelling, his dramatics, his constant declarations of greatness on behalf of Malleus. You never teased him. You understood him.

One evening, after an exhausting mission outside Briar Valley, you found him standing guard alone under a stormy sky — soaked, grim, but stubborn as ever. You put your cloak around his shoulders and stood beside him in the rain.

He never forgot that moment.

It was when he realized: You are who I want to stand beside forever.

Sebek’s proposal took months of planning. Everything had to be worthy — of you, of his feelings, and of the future he wanted to protect. He asked Lilia for advice (and immediately regretted it after hearing “fake dragon attack for dramatic flair” — no thank you), trained twice as hard every morning, and spent evenings carving something in secret.

When the day came, he invited you to the castle gardens of Diasomnia at sunrise. The sky was still dark and quiet, a soft mist curling between hedges and dragon statues.

Sebek stood waiting at the center, in formal attire — the ceremonial armor of the Draconia Guard, silver and forest green, etched with runes that glowed faintly with magic. He turned when you arrived, eyes wide and serious, breath fogging in the cold air.

“I… I wanted to say this in the place where my heart was forged — under these towers, in these shadows, where I learned what it meant to serve.”

He stepped forward, taking your hands in his own — warm despite the chill.

“But then I met you. And I learned something greater than duty. I learned love. Fierce. Relentless. Protective. The kind I would fight for. Die for. Live for.”

From his belt, he drew a small box. Inside it was a ring made from polished emerald steel — hand-forged, slightly rough around the edges, but unmistakably beautiful. It bore his family crest inside and tiny runes around the band for strength, loyalty, and passion.

“I will not promise perfection. I am loud. I am difficult. But I swear to be yours with every heartbeat I have. To protect, to cherish, and to learn. Always.”

He dropped to one knee — knight-like, formal, trembling — and looked up at you as though you were the most sacred being in the world.

“Would you do me the extraordinary honor… of becoming my partner? My future? My heart?”

Your “yes” rang through the mist like sunlight.

When he stood, his composure nearly broke — eyes damp, mouth trembling — and when he kissed you, it was with the passion of someone who had finally learned what it meant to love freely.

And though he never said it aloud again in front of others — in private, every night after, he whispered: “Thank you for choosing me.”

[romanticrivalries]

WHAT ARE THEY? SINCARAZ LORE (WITH RECEIPTS)

The RG final brought in an influx of new fans. Because of my SINCARAZ x called you again edit, I received a lot of inquiries about what happened between them. Since their relationship is complicated—("he means a lot to me" / "we’re good friends" / "aren’t close friends" / they wake up in the morning and think about each other)—and goes ↗️↘️↗️↘️↗️ every other month (Hot N Cold by Katy Perry is quite befitting), I thought I should make this.

Before we join hands and plunge into the rabbit hole, I need to establish how downbad Carlos was (is?) for Jannik. 

His entire face lit up at the mere mention of Jannik:

Exhibit B. I swear, if Carlos had a tail it would start wagging aggressively at the sight of Jannik.

Carlos looking back at Jannik after they parted ways.

He looks back at Jannik a lot. Exhibit B. Exhibit C.

Tbh, his smile during Jannik’s speech in the Rome ‘25 ceremony is incriminating enough:

(Smiling so aggressively his gums are showing… Someone call an ambulance, we’ve got a man down bad.)

Now that that has been established, let’s move on. Buckle up, it’s a long ride.

They first met as teenagers (Carlos was 15, Jannik - 17) in 2019 at the JC Ferrero Challenger Open, held at the academy of Carlos’ coach, Juan Carlos Ferrero. Carlos won. Jannik is the one who approached Carlos first because he wanted to get to know him. 

“I saw the draw coming out and I said, ‘Oh, Carlos Alcaraz, I have no idea who he is!’” said the Italian. “I saw the age and I said, ‘Wow, he’s playing a challenger, it’s amazing.’ And then straight away I was impressed. “After the match, we went to the same locker room … and I was like, ‘When did you start to play tennis?’ And then we started to talk a little bit, because I wanted to get to know him because he was just an amazing talent already back in the day.”

Their first ATP match up was in 2021 at the Rolex Paris Masters. Despite losing, Jannik was the one to say to Carlos at the net: “I hope we play some more.”

And the rest is history: Carlos imprinted on Jannik and has been down bad ever since. Therefore, it can be concluded that Jannik fell first but Carlos fell harder.

Prior to 2024, Jannik and Carlos were quite consistent about referring to each other as good friends.

CARLOS (2022): “[...] and of course, we are great friends outside the court. [...] I talked to him out of the court, by phone, I mean we laughed a lot**, he’s a nice person [...]”

They went jet skiing together after their Umag final, 2022. 

JANNIK (Rolex Shanghai Masters 2023): [...] “We have a very good relationship off the court and I feel like we are good friends, but still, you know, on court there is, uh, this nervous, you know, inside you feel a little bit nervous [...]”

During December of 2023, Jannik and Carlos trained together at the Juan Carlos Ferrero Tennis Academy as preseason preparation. Same place where they met for the first time, btw. A ceremony took place where it was unveiled that the main court would be named after Carlos. Jannik recorded the entire thing on his phone, a video that he never shared on social media.

Many people say their relationship is one-sided, that Jannik doesn’t reciprocate, but this moment alone speaks volumes of how much he cares. Other people were capturing the event, so he didn’t need to, but he still chose to, just for himself and Carlos. It wasn’t something meant to be shared with the public. Not only that, he didn’t just take a quick snap, he recorded the entire thing. It’s characteristic of his introverted, private nature to show he cares in subtle ways like this that aren’t always visible/obvious to the public eye.

Jannik talked about it a little bit over here after the interviewer teases him for taking photos like a fan: “For me, it’s special, they grew up together [...]”

The unshared video should also serve as a reminder that there are likely many other private friendly moments shared between them that we as outsiders will never be privy to, so we shouldn’t base assumptions on the nature of their relationship from what’s said/not said on their social media.

CARLOS' UNWAVERING FAITH IN JANNIK

Carlos believed in Jannik’s potential before most people did. In 2023, he remained steadfast in his claim that Jannik is his biggest rival when people were expecting him to name Djokovic. The media kept trying to coax the Alcaraz vs. Djokovic narrative out of Carlos but he would not budge.

Note: Jannik didn’t have his meteoric breakthrough until 2024 (he was showing signs of it by the end of 2023). Before 2024, Jannik had no Grand Slams and only 1 Masters 1000 title (Canada). In comparison, by that point, Carlos had 2 Grand Slams and 4 Master 1000s. He became the youngest World Number One in ATP rankings history in 2022.

I: The rankings say it’s Novak and Carlos, Carlos and Novak, do you consider him to be your biggest rival at the moment? CARLOS, ROME ‘23: “[...] Probably, Jannik right now is my biggest opponent. We had really great matches, but at the same time really, really tough ones. [...]”

CARLOS, Post-Wimbledon, ‘23: "Having someone there, with whom you fight, with whom you have that battle, that beautiful rivalry, is important to maintain motivation for so long. Right now, I think I have it and I’m not afraid to say it: for me, it’s Sinner at the moment. That beautiful rivalry that we have, those big games that we have played, on big stages. As the years go by there will be better ones and we will fight for the big titles.”

Even Jannik didn't consider himself to be Carlos' biggest rival.

JANNIK, SHANGHAI '23: "But in the other way, I feel like that he [Carlos] has achieved many things more than I did at the moment, and me, personally, I think, at the moment, the biggest rivalry he has is Novak because of certain circumstances of points and World Number One and Grandslams throughout the last two years [...]"

I’ve observed Jannik avoids getting ahead of himself and making presumptions about the future— I’m not sure whether it’s because of superstition, his realistic perspective about the rapidly-changing brutal nature of tennis as a competitive sport or something else —which is why he doesn’t entertain talks about the future of their rivalry as easily as Carlos does.

At the time, this raised a lot of eyebrows, but Carlos predicted Jannik would become World Number One in 2024, which Jannik did. The reason behind the skepticism was that in 2023 the World Number One title had gone back-and-forth between Djokovic and Carlos until Djokovic emerged on top as the Year-end World Number One. Djokovic won all the slams apart from Wimbledon, which was won by Carlos. So, people were expecting a similar pattern in 2024.

LANGUAGE(S) THEY COMMUNICATE IN:

In 2022, Carlos said they both communicate in Spanish. On the other hand, Jannik said he speaks in Italian while Carlos speaks in Spanish.

CARLOS: [...] We speak Spanish. I don’t know how to speak Italian. At the moment, we speak Spanish. (Source) Interviewer: “His [Jannik’s] Spanish is good?” CARLOS: “Yeah, he’s good. He has to improve, but his Spanish is good.”

JANNIK: “Sometimes we talk in the locker room. He speaks in Spanish and I speak in Italian, so we talk kind of mixed. But I think we understand us very well. Off court we are friends, we are good friends. I mean, also now after his match and my match, we saw each other in the ice bath. I think we are in a good relationship which hopefully can live for many years because this is the most important.” (Source)

(A/N: Fast forward to the trophy ceremony in Rome 2025, where Carlos told Jannik to speak in Italian because he understands, while Carlos gave his speech to Jannik in English because Jannik’s Spanish isn’t that good [?])

BOTH ARE ALIKE OFF-COURT:

Because of their contrasting personalities, I’ve seen people make assumptions that they don’t mesh well off-court or wonder whether they have anything in common to talk about outside of tennis, but they’re actually quite similar off the court and get along well. In particular, they both place a lot of value on honesty, integrity, and being good people. They both keep close to their small circles. 

DARREN CAHILL (JANNIK’S COACH), 2024: “Two young, great kids, not just on the court but off the court as well. Their friendship is real. They both respect each other and like each other and you’ll see that on the court tomorrow regardless of who wins [...]”

DARREN CAHILL (JANNIK’S COACH), 2024: “I think Carlos is very similar to Jannik in both the way they play with the excitement level they bring to the game, and their personalities and their likability. Both guys are incredibly alike off the court. They both like each other.”

JANNIK: "It's easy for Carlos and me to get along. We are quite similar off the court. When we play, however, we are a bit different, but that's normal, it's our nature. Off court, I listen to him, I get the feeling he likes to be surrounded by the people closest to him, as I am. Carlos pushes me to be a better player."

JANNIK, SHANGHAI 2024: “[...] For me it’s nice that we’re rivals on the court and friends off the court [...] Off the court, we are quite similar, because we surround ourselves with our close ones, we like to stay with the team, um, you know there are many, many things, similar things I feel like [...]”

Alcaraz said of Sinner: “I always say you have to be a good person first and athletics comes after that. Jannik thinks the same thing.”

DARREN CAHILL (JANNIK’S COACH), 2025: “Now Carlos and Jannik aren’t going out to dinner together either, but they are mates. They’re in the locker room, they’re talking. I’m part of some of their conversations. I won’t repeat what they are because most of it focuses around what 23-year-olds and 21-year-olds talk about, but they have fun, and they enjoy each other’s company.”

They’re both big football fans.

So you won’t be dropping Carlitos a text if Italy beats Spain in their group-stage match? [JANNIK] No, I will never do that… [Pauses to laugh and grins]... Maybe!

ON-AND-OFF DIVORCE ERA A.K.A We’re so back / It’s so over / We’re so fucking back / it’s joeover

They forgot to sit down and define the relationship, so were on completely different pages for a good part of 2024.

Things were looking good in Indian Wells.

They were high-fiving and chatting each other up in the tunnel before their match, Carlos waited for Jannik so they could leave the court together when the match was delayed because of rain, giggling together as they left the court (bonus: carlos patting Jannik’s b—), sat together in the locker room and talked about life, also laughed about:

CARLOS, INDIAN WELLS 24: “Well, we were laughing about it with Jannik when it [match] suspended, because I had bees, had the rain.”

Things changed around Miami.

While Carlos was waxing poetic about their futures:

“Hopefully Jannik and I both have a long and beautiful future ahead of us.” (N: Oddly romantic thing to say: sounds like Carlos wants to spend the rest of their lives together.) CARLOS, MIAMI 2024

Also, Carlos saying more downbad and incriminating things like: “He means a lot to me.” (INDIAN WELLS ‘24) 

For the first time, in Miami 2024, Jannik defines their relationship as not that close as previously painted:

“[...] We have a lot of respect for each other and, obviously, off the court we don't speak that much because he has his own things and I have my things."

Some of the reactions from this reddit thread are worth a read, lol.

(Skipping a major arc: Roland Garros '24)

Things started looking good again months later during Beijing. Chatting in the gym (part 1, part 2). Carlos was looking to give Zendaya a run for her money the way he was laughing in part 1. I would say Jannik isn’t that funny, but too many people close to him have said otherwise, so maybe he is indeed just that funny.

Just look at them during the trophy ceremony. 

“I respect you a lot as a player but even more as a person” was very much needed after all the noise that had reemerged with the WADA appeal.

Jannik and Carlos greet each other’s teams.

They shared a flight together after their final:

Carlos’ interview about it. Jannik’s interview about it (his little giggle when asked about the photo was so cute).

During Shanghai, someone pulled Uno reverse, because now Jannik was talking about how they’re friends off court but Carlos was like we’re not that close.

CARLOS, SHANGHAI ‘24: "We don't talk too much when we are around. Obviously, we have a really good relationship off the court as well. I think we both respect each other a lot, as a player, as a person, but once we are on tour traveling, you know, during tournaments when we are on-site, we are with our team, on our own, so we don't speak too much. When we can, we talk a little bit besides tennis about life a little bit, but not too much. It means, we have a good relationship, but we are not close friends, you know, but I think the respect that we have, you know, put [us] in a position that we have a really good relationship."

For renowned downbad Carlos to say this, the people were certainly shocked. He managed to fight off the allegations until he lost the war by cheesin’ so hard just because Jannik grouped him as a legend during the trophy ceremony in Shanghai (the final was between Jannik and Djokovic but Carlos was there to watch).

Just look at him:

Their exhibition final, SIX KINGS SLAM ‘24 was a gift that kept on giving:

Silly confusion because the announcer got their walkout order wrong, Jannik removed confetti from Carlos’ hair, Jannik—I wake up in the morning thinking about Carlos—Sinner, Carlos refused to let go of Jannik, bench talks etc.

I: So, did you just tell us that everyday you wake up you think about him [Carlos]?

(The interviewer decided to choose violence and not let that insane statement from Jannik go by unnoticed by everyone in that stadium)

JANNIK: [Flustered pause] “Well, no, I mean… [Jannik laughs in panic while Carlos looks utterly delighted] It would be strange, no?”

(The interviewer had to intercede and save him.)

I: “In practice terms."

(Love how the interviewer said this in such a pointed way, like gay boy your mind went there by itself, I was talking about practice)

I: "He’s your biggest rival, isn’t he, over the next few years. Do you still get on as friends?”

JANNIK: “I mean, we understand each other very well. We travel a lot. We are, I would say good friends [turns to check with Carlos, who nods], you know. Not obviously the best out of the best, but y‘know, we also like to share every time when we go on the court. We try to enjoy [...]”

Carlos decided to send signals to Jannik during his press conference that he wants to be friends:

“[...] We don’t spend too much time together off the court, but I would love to.”

He WOULD LOVE TO. Jannik did that blazing signal manage to transmit through your thick curls?

I really liked this comment on their relationship:

It explains everything pretty well.

It's hard to be friends with the person who is responsible for chipping away your soul and body in a grueling battle that lasts for hours, who rips your heart into pieces by squashing your dreams and taking the one thing you wanted the most (when it was nearly within reach).

Poor Jannik has cried enough times because of Carlos 😭

“Tears of happiness? I haven’t had them yet. [I cried] after [losing to] Carlos in the US Open, also a bit at Roland Garros,” Jannik adds. “There are always moments when you feel emotions you don’t want in the locker room or sometimes when you’re in transportation or even in the hotel room alone. It means you care about the sport. It means you want to reach this level." (Source / 2024)

I liked this analysis on them.

FOR JUST CO-WORKERS, THEY’RE TOTALLY NORMAL ABOUT EACH OTHER:

They both wake up in the morning and think about each other.

Carlos [about Jannik during Roland Garros ‘24]: "...to wake up in the morning and want to improve my game to try to beat him..." [Source]

Jannik [about Carlos on two different occasions]: "...he pushes me to do better. I wake up in the morning trying to understand what I can do better trying to beat him next time, which is something nice for me as a player." [Source]

Jannik: "...we try to push ourselves to the limits, you know, I wake up in the morning trying to understand the ways how to beat him and you know this kind of rivalries and this kind of players they push us always to our 100% limit..." [Source]

CARLOS, SHANGHAI ‘23: “[...] Against him, as I said, it’s different.”

JANNIK, SHANGHAI ‘24: “[...] It’s like fire and ice, a bit [...]”

Interviewer: “Carlos was in here, and he said it really hurts to lose against you. Especially against you. Do you love to win, especially against him?” JANNIK: “[...] Obviously, both of us, we hate losing, especially against each other.”

CARLOS, INDIAN WELLS ‘24: “I mean, I hear some declarations from Tommy Paul that was funny for me, that he's [Jannik’s] absolutely naked right now. He’s playing naked, so [...]” (Source) / “I hear some words from Tommy Paul that he’s [Jannik’s] playing absolutely naked, so he’s right [...]” (Source)

Guess he liked the thought of Jannik playing absolutely naked so much that he had to mention it more than once. Alright.

CARLOS, ROLAND GARROS ‘24: “That’s when I thought, ‘Jannik, if you really want to beat me, you’re gonna have to take me out on a stretcher.’”

“Everything he does, he does it perfectly.”

CARLOS, ROME ‘25: “[...] Honestly, I’m going to say I need him in the tour [...]” / “I’m not going to get tired of saying, y’know, how amazing a person, athlete you are.”

JANNIK, ROLAND GARROS ‘25: “He’s [Carlos’] a player with charisma, with that aura. The moment he steps on court, you can feel his presence.”

CARLOS, ROME ‘25: I'm more focused when I'm playing against him, or I feel a little bit different when I'm going to face him than other players. He has that aura. When you're seeing him on the other side of the net, it's different.”

Where’s that twitter post that went along the lines of: aura is basically you calling another man attractive

CARLOS, ROLAND GARROS ‘25: “[...] It’s a privilege to share the court with you, in every tournament, making history with you.” 

Not to be cheesy and quote Red, White & Royal Blue, but: “History, huh?”

We've only scratched the surface here (their divorce 2.0 still remains unearthed), but this post has gotten too long, so I'm going to end it here. Hopefully, this proves useful to someone.

[niningtori]

mastermind | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: you should be used to your relationships failing by now, but after finding out your boyfriend, yeonjun, cheated on you, you're devastated yet again. and beomgyu, your best friend, is there to pick up the pieces, just like always. but isn't it a little odd that things just never seem to work out?

genre: romance, angst, smut (MDNI), yandere

warnings: YANDERE!GYU, manipulation, gaslighting, SMUT (MDNI!) creampie, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, dirty talk, degradation, if i missed anything pls lmk!

word count: 5.1k

notes: ... hi. i'm reposting this with major edits but i hope you all still like it!

｡o.ﾟ｡*･♡♡･*｡ﾟo｡ ｡o.ﾟ｡*･♡♡･*｡ﾟo｡

do you love your boyfriend? of course. do you trust him? of course. so are you surprised to see a photo of him very clearly making out with another woman? well, of course.

your friends, your family, and even passersby would simply tell you you shouldn’t be, though. yeonjun used to be very well known for his sexual escapades, so when you announced he was your boyfriend, nobody was particularly happy for you. especially not your best friend in the whole world, beomgyu. 

“he’s just gonna hurt you, just like the last one!” 

you remember flinching at this. you remember how hurt and indignant you felt at the time. you also remember the silent treatment you gave him, and the cold war that began shortly thereafter. he apologized afterwards, of course, but you had asked him what was so bad about you that he couldn’t just believe that yeonjun had changed for you. he was silent at this, which only made you even angrier. it was all pointless in the end, you suppose.

as you sit on beomgyu’s couch, your phone rings again. you have a special ringtone for yeonjun, so you don’t even bother to check the caller id before you silence it. he’s been calling you incessantly since you texted him that you saw the picture and were done with him. your face is downcast and if you weren't so consumed by your sadness, you'd notice the faint look of delight in beomgyu’s eyes. 

“i think you should just block him,” he says as nonchalantly as he can muster. maybe in another state of mind, you'd register the satisfaction in his tone, but right now? all you can sense is his urgency, which can easily be explained away by selfless and sincere concern. just how he likes it.

“you’re right,” you sigh. “i guess i just don’t understand. things were going so well, and then he goes and does this to me. i don’t know what i did wrong,” you say while burying your face in your hands. he almost can’t control the way his lips want to curl up at this, but he’s become nothing if not a master of containing his true emotions. he’s kept them from your prying eyes for years, after all.

“aww, baby. it’s not you, it’s him. he’s just not the right guy for you,” he coos, but for some reason, you can’t help but be annoyed at his kindness. 

“i know you want to say i told you so, so say it,” you snap, pulling your face from your hands and scowling at him.

“i don’t want —” 

“if you wanted me to learn my lesson, i’ve learned it, alright? i don't need to be taught again,” you say with a huff. you know you’re being unreasonable. you know you’re being a bitch, but you just can’t help it. who told beomgyu to be right about your potential partners all the damn time? fuck his crazy-accurate intuition.

he looks genuinely hurt by your harsh words, though, so you can’t help but feel a wave of regret wash over you. you’re drowning in it, even, as you watch his puppy eyes gloss over.

“beomie, baby, i’m so sorry,” you say, gently grabbing his face with one hand and pushing his long hair behind his ear with the other. “i know i’m being awful to you when you’re just trying to help.”

“it’s okay,” he says solemnly, looking like a kicked puppy. “as long as you’re sorry.” somehow, his easy acceptance of your apology makes you feel even worse. you pull him in for a hug and he buries his face in your neck to a) soak up your scent and b) hide his growing smirk. but you’re too caught up in your feelings to notice.

“it’s really okay,” he assures once you part.

“no, it isn’t. i’m being a shitty friend. how about you stay over tonight? we can watch a movie and i’ll order something for us to eat,” you suggest. he graciously accepts your peace offering and the night is spent with giggles and an overt amount of cuddling.

as you’re drifting off to sleep, you feel beomgyu plant a kiss on your forehead. to anyone else, this might come across as oddly intimate, but you know better. people have said that you two would make a good couple, but you two do nothing but laugh it off every time. they just don’t understand your dynamic. he’s a man like any other, you guess, but seeing him as anything other than a friend is simply laughable. you know he feels the same exact way about you, too, which is why you are unfazed by his next words. 

“i love you. it’s just — i just love you so much, you know?” he whispers.

“aww, beomie. you know i love you, too. you’re my best friend in the whole world,” you murmur as sleep finally overcomes you.

if the lights were on, you’d see how his face falls and contorts into something like a grimace.

-

yeonjun has been spamming you like crazy, so you listen to beomgyu and block his number as well as his social media accounts. you think this whole chapter of your life is over, but, as always, you are wrong.

a week or so after your messy breakup, a sudden knock at your door pulls your attention away from mindless scrolling on your phone. you don't think much of it — it’s probably just beomgyu with some takeout, or something. however, when you look through the peephole, you realize that yeonjun is not finished bothering you just yet. 

“baby, please. i know you’re there. please, just open up. i’ll explain everything!” he pleads. you’re not particularly known for your callousness of heart, so it doesn’t take much more begging for you to feel guilty and let him in. you open your door with a sigh. 

“thank you!” yeonjun says with a look of pure relief as he hurriedly enters your apartment. he takes a seat on your couch (unprompted, you might add) and takes a shaky breath. you cautiously seat yourself on the other end of the couch and prepare to listen to whatever bullshit he has conjured up for your viewing pleasure before you decide that it’s best just to cut to the chase. ripping the band-aid off, and all that.

“look, i don’t care that you’re sorry. there’s nothing you can say to make me change my —” 

“it was beomgyu!” he exclaims before you can get another word out.

“... what?” you ask confusedly. where the hell is he going with this?

“the girl, the picture, fucking everything was all his fucking fault. he did it,” he rants. oh. he must think you’re fucking stupid.

“yeonjun, please don’t waste my time,” you sigh. “i think you should leave,” you add, getting up from your seat.

“wait!” he pleads, reaching for your hand and gently pulling you back down. “remember how i always told you that i had a weird feeling about him? like how something always felt… off?” oh well. if he wants to continue putting on a show, then so be it. besides, it’ll be a funny story to tell beomgyu later on.

you nod.

“well, he always looked at me weirdly. like, whenever i’d walk into the room, there was always this… this tension and i never knew why, but i understood it as soon as we made things official. it’s because he likes you.” you’re silent for a moment and yeonjun actually thinks he’s getting through to you before you burst into near-maniacal laughter. his face falls.

“beomgyu? beomgyu likes me?” you say between giggles. beomgyu loves you like a sister. no way in hell does he harbor a shred of romantic love for you. 

“you’re not listening,” he grunts, slightly tugging at his own hair in frustration. “he’s always been weird, and the other night at the bar, he introduced me to that girl you saw me ‘kissing’. they kept giving me drinks until i could barely fucking see straight. then she kept coming onto me, but i said no. i finally told her to kick rocks, but the next thing i knew was that she was kissing me. i know it sounds crazy, but you have to believe me.” you want to dismiss everything he’s saying, but his utter sincerity seems to strike a chord within you. you can’t say you believe him, but he continues before you can properly digest his words.

“think about it. why the hell would i cheat in such a public place where all of our friends hang out? don't you think i would be smarter than that? and even if i wasn't, you know me. you know i would never cheat on you.” he seems desperate now, but it’s still hard to believe that beomgyu orchestrated this entire thing instead of the very real possibility that yeonjun just got drunk and acted recklessly.

“alright, this isn’t funny anymore. you need to stop,” you warn, not liking how much he’s making sense.

“think,” he repeats with conviction.

so you do. you think back to all of the tumultuous relationships you’ve had until now. they've all ended in different ways, yes, but they all had one common denominator: beomgyu. oh, beomgyu saw your boyfriend getting cozy with his ex. you’re having an argument with your boyfriend? beomgyu thinks he’s a piece of shit because of how he treats you, you obviously deserve better! wait, your boyfriend keeps taking too long to text you back? he’s just losing interest! it’s clearly better to break it off now rather than getting too invested when you’re inevitably going to break up, anyway. and all the other greatest hits. your face twists from focused to horrified as the realization sinks into your bones. it's beomgyu. it’s always been beomgyu. 

you look to yeonjun with pure shock in your eyes and he meets your gaze with a look of sympathy. you finally get it. 

“junie, i’m so sorry,” you say, tears springing into your eyes. “i’m so sorry i doubted you.” 

“it’s okay,” he replies with a melancholy smile. “he manipulated you.” 

“does… does that mean we’re back together now?” you ask, voice tinged with hope. his smile falters at your question, and you feel a sense of dread.

“i need some time,” he says after a pause, dropping his hand from yours. “you really hurt me. i understand that beomgyu manipulated you, but it really hurts that you didn't trust me, you know?” 

“i understand,” you quietly reply. you’d be hurt if the tables were turned — it’s only natural. you just hope to god above that you haven’t let beomgyu ruin another good thing for you.

-

beomgyu is confused as to why you’ve been ignoring him for the better part of a week. you don’t respond when he texts or calls, and his intuition is telling him that it has something to do with yeonjun. maybe you’re just shutting down because of the breakup? it was particularly brutal this time around, after all. he’s lucky that yeonjun has such a lascivious sexual history, or else you might not have bought his little charade, even with the proof presented directly in front of you. that’s how much you love(d) yeonjun. the thought causes jealousy to rear its ugly head in his stomach, but whatever. there’s no way you’re going back to him after the way the scandal has made its way through your social life. even if you do want to get back together with him, there's no way your pride will let you. your pride has been a particularly nasty sort of obstacle in beomgyu’s pursuit of you, but it’s absolutely delicious to be able to use it against you like this. serves you fucking right.

still, it’s his job as your dutiful best friend to cheer you up. with this in mind, he picks up your favorite takeout and heads to your place. he smiles when he imagines the way you’ll gratefully embrace him once you realize that he’s here for you. maybe this time you’ll understand that he’s always been the one who’s there for you when someone hurts you. maybe this time will be his big break, finally freeing him from the purgatory he has been in for god knows how long.

he knocks on your door with a hopeful smile on his face. surprisingly, you’re swinging the door open mere seconds later with your eyes similarly lit up with hope.

“yeon— oh. it’s you,” you say, deflating immediately. there’s a certain sense of resentment in your tone that he catches onto, but he chalks it up to disappointment. his face falls. goddamn it. damn it all to hell.

“i brought you some food to cheer you up,” he says while shaking the plastic takeout bag, completely ignoring the slip of another man’s name. 

he invites himself in, slipping off his shoes and sitting down on the couch as he usually does. 

he waits for you to join him, but when he looks up at you, all he sees is you staring at him, arms crossed and face contorted in anger. surely you can’t be that upset that he’s not yeonjun, right? now that he thinks about it, why would you be expecting yeonjun, anyway? hadn’t you effectively cut him off? did you talk to him and take him back after all that (you think) he’s done? that can’t be right. unless… unless you actually let him talk to you. oh god, please tell him that’s not what happened.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, face devoid of anything deeper than curiosity and worry. 

you’re silent for a moment before you carefully choose your next words.

“i talked to yeonjun,” you reply, and his heart sinks to his stomach. “he told me some… interesting things.”

beomgyu hopes you don’t notice how hard he gulps. you do not.

“what did he say?” he asks, face tense but still showing no clear signs of guilt. 

“he told me what happened that night. he told me how you got him drunk and basically forced that girl onto him. he also said that you’re the reason none of my relationships work out,” you declare, opting to stop beating around the bush and just get some answers. you study his face for a crack of some sort, but there is none.

“and what do you think?” he asks quietly.

“i think… i think he might be telling the truth,” is what you say, but you’re sounding increasingly unsure with every word because beomgyu looks more hurt than you’ve ever seen him.

“you believe him over me?” he asks, voice cracking and lips trembling with his brown eyes glossed over in what you can only describe as devastation. god, either beomgyu’s a really good actor, yeonjun’s a really good actor, or you’re just fucking stupid.

“i… i don’t know what to think, beomgyu,” you whisper after a pause. all he does is nod before his next words pierce your heart.

“is that why you’ve been ignoring me?”

jesus christ. you were so sure that yeonjun was telling the truth when he told you about beomgyu, so ignoring him only seemed natural under the circumstances, but he looks every bit like the victim in light of your accusations. his trembling lips and wounded gaze make you want to strangle yourself for ever doubting him. as you feel yourself being consumed with remorse, though, you remember the sincerity and desperation in yeonjun’s words. maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding? maybe they’re both convinced that they’re right? 

“y-yes. i’m sorry. i was just confused. maybe he just misunderstood?” you babble. he likes your hesitancy, but it’s still wearing on his patience. as much as he wants to say he can’t believe that you’d question him because of some guy you dated, he can believe it when it comes to you. you always, always, always hurt him like this, and he’s had just about enough.

“and what if it’s true?” he asks, pathetic facade wiped clean off of his face while something more somber replaces it entirely. your eyes lock with his and you’re stunned silly. 

“what?” is all you can manage to reply with. 

“what if i pushed that girl onto yeonjun? what if i ruined all of your relationships? what would you do?” 

“so it’s true?!” is all you can say, guilt flaring into sheer rage and hurt. 

“so what if it is?” he asks, as if he doesn’t comprehend how twisted this is.

“so… so how could you do that to me?!” 

“i was only doing what’s best for you,” he impatiently replies. “they were only gonna hurt you, can’t you see that? even before i did anything, there were still all those men who cheated on you, lied to you, used you. what’s wrong with wanting to protect you from people like them? i just couldn’t stand to see you living like that!” he argues, clearly believing he’s completely justified in all of this.

sure, you’ve been hurt before even without his intervention, but that doesn’t mean he can just play puppeteer in your love life to “protect” you from anything similar happening ever again. you trusted him and he manipulated you. he acted like a knight in shining armor this entire time while knowingly sabotaging any potentially good thing that could come your way. and he did it all because he wants to protect you? bullshit. 

“you know, i thought that even if everyone other man in the world could hurt me, you never would,” you say shakily, either from sadness or anger. maybe both. “i guess i was wrong.”

“hurt you?! hurt is watching the person you love fuck other people over and over and over again! hurt is watching you laugh me off and never even fucking considering me as an option, goddamn it!” he yells while slamming his hand on your coffee table. 

“so your solution was to fuck up every relationship i have just to have me to yourself?! do you not realize how fucked up that is?!” you yell back, trying to appear unfazed by his increasingly enraged behavior. he seems to falter at this, genuinely at a loss for words at your unforgiving pinpointing of his erratic actions. the desperate, eager-to-please beomgyu you know all too well is finally back and you feel your confidence surge because of it.

“i only did that because —”

“why? because you love me? or think you do?” you mock with a hollow laugh. “you don’t purposely ruin the life of someone you love.” he looks genuinely wounded by your words. 

“but i —”

“i don’t care. get out,” you say mercilessly. you’re absolutely through with listening to his fucked up ideations about love and what his twisted moral compass deems as justified because of it. you’re so preoccupied with preaching on your soapbox, you don’t even realize his attitude has once again shifted from the compliant beomgyu to the one you don’t recognize at all. 

“... no,” he says flatly. 

“did you not fucking hear me? i said get out,” you repeat through clenched teeth. normally, your raised hackles would be enough to scare him off, so you figure he’ll tuck his tail and leave right about now. oh, how wrong you are.

“are you deaf?” he asks with a sneer. “i said no.”

“what do you mean, no?” you ask. somewhere in the depths of your mind, alarm bells begin ringing, but it’s far too late to heed them. plus, you’re still under the impression that he’ll bend to your will. 

“oh, so you’re not deaf. just stupid,” he snorts. your jaw is agape at his audacity. beomgyu has caught an attitude and gotten fresh with you before, sure, but nothing like this. to say you’re dumbstruck would be to put things in the mildest of terms. you can barely get out your next sentence.

“w-what do you mean?” 

“i’m not leaving this apartment,” he says firmly, and before you can even ask him to explain, he’s dragging you away with a painful grip.

“ow! beomgyu, you’re hurting m—” 

“shut up. i told you what real hurt is, but you're not fucking listening. i don't want to hear another word come out of your mouth,” he says in a monotone voice. if the alarm bells were ringing in the depths of your mind before, they’re absolutely blaring at the forefront of your brain right now. 

“what are y-you —”

“i thought i told you to shut up,” he snaps before roughly grabbing your face and planting his lips on yours. the kiss is crude. it’s absolutely vulgar with the way it’s all tongue and teeth and saliva, but after a few seconds of uncertainty, you find yourself melting into it. this is wrong. you two are the best of friends, almost like brother and sister. and more than that, you love yeonjun, right? you’re supposed to be working on getting back together with him, aren’t you? but your reason starts to be sucked away as you feel his hands caress your body, leaving nothing but fire in their wake.

you don’t know how you got here, almost completely naked as you lay on your back while beomgyu continues attacking your lips. it’s blazing hot and you can’t help but feel your underwear becoming wet with every moan that escapes his mouth and consequently reverberates onto your tongue. as if he already knows the intricacies of your internal battle, one of his hands finds its way to your now soaking wet pussy and he uses his index and middle fingers to spread the slickness around. he swirls his fingers around your hole and just barely pushes one of them into the entrance. you gasp at the shallow intrusion and you can feel his notorious shit-eating grin pressed across your lips as he feels how tight you are. you’re ridiculously turned on and he knows it. he pauses his actions only to unzip his pants and yank them down to his knees. your eyes widen at what you can only describe as his huge appendage, all reddened and already leaking. you feel your cunt throbbing with even more need at the sight, but your last shred of reason still makes you hesitate.

“beomgyu, we can't… we're friends, and yeonjun is —”

“can’t you just let me make you feel good? god, you’re making this so difficult, but what the fuck else is new,” he growls. 

he's right. you are making things difficult. there's no way of salvaging your friendship after this, so what's the point in holding back now? you realize that while he may be absolutely unhinged, his feelings for you are real. do you reciprocate them? you don’t know yet, but the thought of him doting on another person the same way he dotes on you makes you feel uneasy. as for yeonjun? well, he deserves better than the cesspool of turbulent emotions that you currently find yourself in. 

“you still sure you don’t want me?” he asks cockily. you, with all of your pride, can only muster up a feeble shake of your head. he knew the answer before you gave it to him, but his condescending gaze shows you that your words have scratched a certain itch of his.

he rubs his hardened length against your folds and it’s all you can do to resist locking your ankles around his waist and pulling him into you, but something stops you. protection. you don’t even have to say it, because he knows you too well for your own good.

“let me fuck you raw,” he says breathily, just barely poking his length into your tight hole. “i know you need it, baby. just let me take care of you.” you’re silent for a moment before pinching out your next words.

“p-pull out?” he won’t because he knows you’ll be begging him for his cum when he’s done with you, and you already know he won’t, even when he nods and promises he will. you don't know why you even asked. 

the ache you feel to have him buried inside you is quickly replaced by the ache you feel once he begins to stretch you out. it’s a stinging, burning sort of pain, but that’s nothing in comparison to the pure pleasure you feel as his flared tip drags along your walls. he begins with thrusting shallowly, fucking you open like you’re a virgin, and you’re so tight while he’s so big, you might as well be. 

painfully slowly, he pushes each and every inch of himself into your gummy hole. he reaches places you didn’t even know existed and stretches you open so good all you have the brainpower to call the sensation is fullness. overwhelming fullness. when he finally sheathes himself in you completely, a strangled cry leaves both of your throats as you feel him throbbing inside of you and he, in turn, feels you pulsating around him. 

after you adjust, you expect him to start drilling into you with reckless abandon, but he does nothing of the sort. just watches you with a strange look on his face. 

“b-beomie? what are you doing?” you ask pathetically, head raising up from its place on the pillows to meet his wanton gaze.

“beg me for it.”

“beg for w—” your question is interrupted by a sharp smack on your sensitive pussy. 

“beg me for it. beg me to fuck you like a whore. i won’t tell you again,” he says menacingly. your bleary eyes are so confused, so stupid, and so, so cute, but he’s determined to use the last of his self-control to get you to feel even a fraction of the desperation he’s felt for years. well, even if you don’t, he’ll spend the whole night fucking you dumb until you do. but you’re so hungry for his dick, you don’t even realize that he’s bluffing.

finally, you understand what he’s asking of you, and you waste no time to comply. 

“n-need your cock, beomie. need you to make me f-feel good,” you say, trying to retain even a semblance of your dignity. this brings a mean smirk to his face, but he’s not done with you, yet.

“surely you can do better than that?” he taunts, rocking his hips ever so slightly so you can feel every inch of his length and girth teasingly hitting your cervix, but providing no relief. fuck your dignity. you need him.

“please! please, i need you! need your cock to fill me up!” you whine.

“mhmm, and?”

“need you to fuck me! need you to fill me up with your cum!” well, there goes your resolve to have him pull out. this seems to satisfy his sadistic desires.

“oh, my love. all you had to do was ask,” he says with a grin. and that’s when he starts. 

his hips meet yours in the most punishing way, and that’s what this is: a punishment for the way you’ve treated him all these years. you can feel it in the way that his fingernails dig into your skin and in the way that he mercilessly presses down on your tummy until all you can feel is pressure building up to something unknown.

“who else can fuck you like this? who else can split you open like this?” he asks as lewd squelches reverberate throughout the room. 

“n-nobody! only you, beomie!” you cry.

“that’s my good girl, such a good girl. baby just needs me to use her like a fucktoy, right?” and all you can do is whine and clench in carnal need as the poor springs of your bed squeak with every unforgiving thrust.

“oh, you like that, don’t you?” he snickers. “you like being my little whore. you’re just a toy for me, alright? free to use whenever i feel like it.” you nod in agreement and he lets out a chuckle as he pounds into you at an unimaginable speed, balls slapping your ass with every fiery thrust. each time he pumps into you, your pussy’s clamping down on him and sucking him in like that’s where he’s meant to be. and maybe it is. 

“god, i’m close,” he groans after pumping into you for what feels like hours, and you whimper like a bitch in heat. “honey, don’t worry,” he tuts. “i’ll fuck you every day, i’ll fill you with my cum so you can’t leave. not that you’ll want to after this. you’re made for me, made to be my cumdump whenever i want.” 

“y-yes!” you shriek, somehow liking the idea of being full of his cum forever and ever. 

“that’s my girl. baby just wants me to fuck her good. that’s all you needed, right? that’s why you’ve been such a brat. you just needed me to show you what it’s like to be fucked right,” he says, rolling your clit for good measure, which is enough to make you reach your high as it comes crashing down around you. beomgyu wasn’t lying when he said he was close, so when he feels you clenching around his big cock as if you’re milking him for all that he’s worth, you feel it twitching before hot bursts of cum paint your inner walls until you’re leaking white and seeing stars. he continues with slow, lazy pumps until he softens. you stay like that for an indeterminable amount of time, breathing raggedly while your bodies are overcome with thrums of delight. 

when he finally pulls out and lays down beside you, bodies slick with sheens of sweat, he pushes your hair back behind your ear and plants a kiss on your temple. shakily, he takes his hand and rubs it along your distended tummy, full of his cum. he lovingly strokes it with an awed smile on his face.

“such a good girl for me,” he repeats. “i can’t wait until you’re pregnant. you’ll have as many babies as i can give you, right?” and all you can do is nod deliriously. he smiles in satisfaction as you eagerly agree to his every nasty, perverted thought. “god, i love you so much. and you love me too, right? say it. say you love me.”

“i love you.” and you realize that you do.  this man is deranged, but he’s yours, and for better or for worse, you're his. especially now that you might very well be carrying his children. and even if you aren’t, you know he’ll make good on his promises to keep fucking you until you are. should you be glad that he effectively ruined every potential relationship for you? you were unsure before, but you realize that nobody has or ever will love you as much as he does, even if he has a demented way of showing it. well, it is what it is. there’s no way out after this.

notes pt. 2: i hope this goes over better after the editing!

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[laurfilijames]

Breathe

Part 7

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 6.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Trauma/PTSD/nightmares/insomnia. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: Unanswered questions amp up every emotion that time does nothing to lessen, and so much uncertainty raises the concern if everything will turn out okay or if moving on is the only answer.

A/N: Less hurt than the last chapter, I promise! Thank you to everyone who was so enthusiastic and responsive to it and made all that angst worth writing!

Photo by @avatarskingdom and edited by me. Please do not use without permission or credit. Headers by the wonderful @spaghettificationandpretzels!

Chapter Playlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

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You felt numb as much as you felt angry, scared and heartbroken.

It was all still so surreal, having to remind yourself constantly that Will broke up with you and was gone, the persistent sick feeling in your stomach growing with every thought of his life being at risk and that even though he was no longer yours, you might never see him again.

You did everything you could to understand his side of things, but with that your frustration increased wildly, the fact that he hadn't even given you the chance to be there for him stinging almost as much as him abandoning what you knew, or thought, you had.

Did he really believe you wouldn’t support him, that you didn’t care enough about him to give him space and time while he dealt with all the things he needed to, that your love for him simply wasn’t enough for him to want to hold onto while he was deployed, that everything you thought you had been building was broken and false?

The toaster popped, shooting your slice of bread out, making you jump after forgetting you were even waiting for it.

You ate because you had to, but food tasted bleak and flavourless, and everything that landed in your stomach felt like it sat there and made your nausea even worse.

You had made a whole lasagna earlier just because, giving you something to do for the better part of an hour, but the thought of eating it was so unappealing and you had the idea that maybe you would drop it off for Benny. Taking a bite out of the plain piece of toast, you thought how awful it might feel to go over to the Miller’s house right now, and decided against it, opting to freeze the lasagna for another time instead.

Another bite and the toast was in the trash, and you stood in the middle of your kitchen unmoving, not sure what to do with yourself next.

You hadn’t slept, and whether it was fatigue or just your grief pummeling you, you broke down and sobbed, your body shaking as the memory of Will holding you in his arms in this very spot flooded you, dancing one night while in the middle of cleaning up dinner, pausing almost anything in favour of stealing a piece of each other.

Work was a welcomed distraction, forcing you to go through the motions and function like everything was normal, able to allow you to bury your emotions for the course of a shift and nearly forget about what had happened, only to have it all come back the moment you got in your car and started your drive home, knowing you had nothing to look forward to.

You hadn’t been back to the gym since the day you saw both brothers there all beat up from their brawl with each other, your body too exhausted and weak to even consider working out, but as you sat at your kitchen table with nothing else to do, you went and changed into your gym clothes and drove over.

It was busy enough, observing the evening crowd enough to keep you entertained as you walked on the Stair Master, each step automatic and absent-minded.

Through a few people and machines you spotted Benny, resting on a bench between sets of chest presses, his smile and slightly awkward wave making you feel equally so, and as he stood and started weaving his way over to you, you felt bad that he probably felt obligated to talk to you.

You stopped the machine and stepped down, grabbing your things in the assumption you would probably feel like leaving after this conversation, your water bottle shaking in your hand that trembled with nerves and adrenaline.

“Hey,” Benny said, somewhat hesitantly.

“Hey, Benny,” you answered, smoothing your hand over your sweaty hair.

“How’re you doing?”

You sighed, looking down at the floor as you shook your head. “Do you want the fake answer or the honest one?”

Benny huffed a laugh in understanding. “You look like shit.”

You laughed out of disbelief, bringing yourself to look at him as he scratched his head and tried to recover.

“I mean- fuck.”

“No, I look like shit. Feel like it too,” you confirmed, reassuring his observations.

“Are you looking after yourself?” he asked, his face full of concern.

You shrugged, “As much as I can, I guess.”

He nodded, sympathetic to your feelings. “Are you eating? Sleeping?”

“Here and there. Not much of both if I’m honest.”

“Yeah, I get it. Just do your best even though it’s hard.”

You hummed. “Does it get any easier?”

He tilted his head a bit. “Does what get easier?”

“The worry, the waiting…”

“Oh, uh…” he pulled his ball cap up off his head, smoothed his hair back and placed it back on again, this time backwards. “Yeah, I guess we all just get used to it in a way. But I’d be lying if I said that everyday you’re half expecting to get that phone call…”

He saw the tears in your eyes well to the surface, and unlike most times, Benny felt a bit speechless.

“I can’t stop thinking about him,” you admitted, your words not even directed at Benny, but rather said aloud simply because you couldn’t keep them in.

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you went on, wiping your eyes and shaking your head like it would suddenly shake away your feelings. “I’m gonna get going, see you later.”

“Yeah, of course,” Benny responded, his voice soft. “Hey,” he called after you, making you pause and turn half-way to face him.

“Just don’t give up on him yet.”

You gave a weak smile. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.”

You made it to your car before you really fell apart, the tears coming down your face so hot and fast you could barely see to unlock the door, and when you flopped down into the seat, you rested your head against the steering wheel and wept.

The most overwhelming sense of panic came over you, taking control over everything and trapping you in it, your mind racing with every horrible thought imaginable, and before you could realize, your breathing had turned short and gasping, your mouth desperately trying to suck in air between sobs.

Your hands wrapped around yourself, squeezing you tighter than the grip of the anxiety attack was, feeling your whole body shaking and trembling and all you wanted to do was scream.

That was when Will’s soothing voice popped in your head, urging you to focus on your breaths and count each one, the sound of the numbers in his even tone allowing you to stop the panic, and you began counting out loud until your breathing eventually leveled out.

How could the same person who was the reason you were feeling this way manage to help calm you, you thought, exhaling slowly as everything around you started to come into focus again.

You ran your hands over your face, your body still shaking with each inhalation though they had become more regular, knowing that as much as you were hurt and betrayed, you still loved Will more than you could imagine loving anything.

Benny’s phone rang not thirty seconds after he’d just hung up, Will’s number lighting up his screen suspiciously close to him ending his conversation with Tom.

He pressed the green button to answer it, and before he could even get out a ‘hey’, Will’s voice stopped him.

“Are you checking up on me?”

“Uhh-”

“I heard Redfly talking to you, idiot.”

Benny scratched his head, trying to gauge which way this was about to go.

“If you’re wondering how I am, just ask me, Ben.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes that’s easier said than done,” he quipped, recalling how many forced conversations they’d had lately where Will gave short, vague answers to everything.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Benny sighed, lifting his arm up in exasperation before letting it fall and hit his side, “I dunno, man, I just thought I’d get a truthful answer out of Redfly over you. He’s with you every day and can tell how you are.”

He heard Will sigh, and Benny took the pause as a chance to give his brother the opportunity to tell him for himself.

“So, how are you, then?”

Will sighed heavily again. “I don’t fucking know anymore. Okay, I guess?” he said, his uncertainty clear.

“Tom said things are going well with the op, and despite it all you seem like you’ve got your head in the game.”

“Yeah, that’s all fine,” Will explained, like his role as a Captain on this tour was the least of his worries. “It’s everything else…”

“Yeah…” Benny agreed, holding space for Will to continue.

“How’s she doing? Have you seen her?”

“Saw her at the gym yesterday,” Benny said carefully, trying to decide if it would be better or worse to tell him she wasn’t doing well, but ultimately knowing if he wanted Will to be honest, he would have to be too. “She’s not doing good, man.”

Will was silent, making Benny pull the phone away from his ear to check if the call had dropped or not.

“I can’t believe I did this to her,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, well,” Benny said flatly, “What’s done is done, now you just have to focus on finishing this job and getting back home so you can fix it.”

“Do you think there will be anything left to fix?”

Benny blew the air out of his mouth slowly. “That’s up to you two. If you both want it to work out…”

“That’s what I’m worried about. By the time I get back she’ll have moved on and learned to hate me.”

“You don’t know that,” Benny countered. Able to tell the expression that would be on Will’s face right now, he continued. “She still loves you man.”

“I wish she didn’t. She deserves better, not this shit…”

Benny’s heart ached for his brother, hating that he was going through this on top of being back in action, praying his stress didn’t get the better of him or be the cause of any fatal mistakes.

“Listen, man, I gotta go,” Will spoke, his voice weak and quiet.

“Yeah, okay. Be careful out there.”

“Always.”

The beep of the call ending sounded in Benny’s ear before there was even the chance to consider saying anything else, and he hoped Will would hang onto the thought that maybe it wasn’t all lost yet.

Days turned into weeks, but the amount of time that was passing didn’t help to make things feel any better, making you wonder every day if it would ever stop hurting.

Anger grew as you wracked your brain combing through every detail of every conversation and act that could've led to this, wondering where it was that you went wrong, but you still couldn’t pinpoint the moment Will gave up on loving you or what it was that made him peel away. It almost hurt just as much as him being gone did, unable to know what the cause was so you could try to rectify it and simply get closure as to why it ended, your heart like an open wound that would never heal.

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time before exiting your room, on your way to meet two of your girlfriends for a quiet drink, your attempts to refuse unaccepted.

You couldn’t deny that it would possibly help get your mind off of Will, but you knew it was futile as everything you did and everywhere you went, he was there.

“That guy can’t stop looking over here at you,” Grace said through a grin as she nudged you with her elbow, and you twisted in your chair slightly to follow her gaze.

You took a sip of your wine as you assessed the man with dark brown hair and brown eyes staring directly at you, his smile bright and clean, his lips plump and inviting.

You said nothing as you turned back to your friends, raising your eyebrows as if that was a response that would appease anyone.

“Come on, he’s gorgeous!” Nicole urged, tilting her head indignantly.

“I never said he wasn’t!” you defended, but in your head all you could think was how he wasn’t Will.

“You need a rebound fuck,” Grace suggested, and the thought made your stomach flip.

“I’m not ready for any of that yet,” you admitted, hoping they would understand how raw everything still felt.

“We know,” Nicole sympathized, giving your hand a squeeze as she placed hers overtop, and you knew they would support you in anything whether it was continuing to miss Will with every part of your being or hooking up with the next man who walked by.

“Oh shit, he’s coming over,” Grace blurted, adjusting in her seat as a wide smile appeared on her face.

Your heart plummeted in your gut, and you sighed, praying this wouldn’t be as horribly awkward as you were expecting it to be, trying to find the energy to be kind and cordial despite not wanting to.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” a deep, smooth voice purred behind you, and you felt the demand of his presence as he stood beside your chair.

His eyes were even more alluring up close, and his crooked smirk was equally charming as it was sexy, the dark scruff around his mouth complimenting his olive complexion.

You swallowed, feeling unable to find words, and with a low chuckle, it prompted him to continue.

“I couldn’t help but want to come over to say hi and introduce myself.” He spoke with such confidence, his voice so seductive. “I’m Cam.”

He held out his hand for you to shake, and you did, feeling your hand tremble slightly before he took it in a firm grip and moved it up and down once on your behalf.

You introduced yourself as well as Nicole and Grace who you wanted to kick under the table for how they were gawking at him, but not as much as you wanted to crawl under it to hide away as he pulled out a chair from the empty table beside yours and took a seat.

“Can I get you ladies another round?”

“Oh, yes please!” the girls chimed, seeming completely enthusiastic about him joining you.

You assessed his hand for any ring as he waved the waitress over, requesting for the same drinks to be brought to the table, feeling relieved there was no band wrapped around his ring finger, but something about him still felt off to you.

He’s not Will, your mind reminded you, and you took a long drink of your wine to try to swallow the sour feeling stirring in your gut.

It was comfortable enough talking to him, even catching yourself laughing at some of the things he said and genuinely having a good time, but every time you felt yourself liking something about him, there was one thing you found you didn’t.

He’s not Will.

You found yourself lost in his chocolate eyes as he spoke to you, imagining instead they were clear blue and held a brightness that reflected the love you had learned to see shine through them, only to be reminded that that wasn’t something that existed for you anymore, and you blinked back to the reality you faced.

“Would it be too forward of me if I asked for your number?” Cam asked, his eyebrows raising on his forehead in a hopeful, but confident expression.

“Hm, yeah, sure,” you replied, picking his phone up from the table that he slid over to you and typed your number into a text message along with your name, sending it to yourself.

“I’ll call you,” he said, standing from his seat where he continued to smile at you.

Your eyes followed him as he walked over to the bar to pay his tab, feeling something stir in you as he looked back over his shoulder at you one last time before he sauntered out of the bar, everything about him charming and gorgeous.

But he wasn’t Will.

“Are you going to go out with him?” Nicole asked excitedly, the looks on both your friend’s faces confusing you like you missed something they hadn’t.

“Umm,” you pondered, trying to wrap your head around the situation, the three glasses of wine making your head feel fuzzy. “I- I don’t know.”

You felt like crying, feeling a sense of guilt and anxiety bubble up in you, like you were betraying Will and being unfaithful despite the reminder that he wasn’t yours slapping you in the face and twisting your heart in your chest.

A few days had passed since your night out with the girls, and as expected, a text from Cam had come through asking to take you for dinner, the invitation sitting ignored and unresponded to in your messages.

Every time you opened your phone to reply, you would see Will’s name a few spots down from Cam’s, the contrast between them and what was past and what was present making you wish more than ever that you could go back in time and try to mend whatever it was that took Will away from you.

You didn't recall ever being so irritable, your temper short and your patience gone, a toss up whether you would scream or cry at the drop of a hat becoming the daily gamble.

The gym didn’t even seem to allay these frustrations, and as you tried to adjust the height of the rack bracket and it got stuck, you felt that blanket of red creeping up through you.

Cursing under your breath, you wiggled the pin again and again, tugging and jostling it to try to get it to move, the clanking of the metal against metal drawing attention over to you by prying, judging eyes.

“Need help?”

You sighed with relief, hearing the familiar voice that belonged to Benny, closing your eyes and counting your breaths as he stepped in and adjusted it for you.

“Thank you,” you muttered, avoiding meeting his eyes as shame washed over you.

“You alright?”

You forced the air out of your lungs again, still not meeting his piercing gaze.

“I'm just so angry and there's nothing I can do about it,” you admitted, your tone defeated.

“I understand that,” Benny drawled, leaning against the squat rack.

You felt him studying you, almost as if he was debating saying something.

“He asks about you every time I talk to him…”

It felt like the wind was knocked right out of you, and somehow you managed to speak.

“He does?”

Your bewilderment seemed to confuse Benny, his face screwed up as he looked at you like it was the most obvious and normal thing.

“Yeah?”

You covered your face with your hands, letting out a growl that did nothing to signify your frustration at the situation.

“I still don’t know what I did wrong. He stopped staying the night and became more and more distant each time I saw him…” You paused briefly, trying to put your thoughts in order. “Then he just stopped altogether and the next time we spoke he ended it, and now you’re saying he asks about me?”

“He didn’t tell you about his nightmare?” Benny asked, his shock blatant.

You shook your head, your brows knitted tightly together. “No?”

Benny sighed and rolled his eyes, shifting on his feet as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Jesus Christ…okay,” he groaned, exasperated by his brother’s ability to consistently make things worse.

You stood there unmoving as Benny explained what had happened, going over all the details Will had told him of his nightmare and his reactions to it, and you felt cold despite having worked up a sweat from what you had done in your routine already.

“I told him he wouldn't actually hurt you but he was so messed up from it. I think it was days before he managed to sleep after that,” Benny said, his tone sad. “I've only seen him that distraught after a nightmare a couple times before.”

“Why wouldn’t he have said anything to me?” you asked, your voice a whisper.

Benny shrugged, “I think he was scared. And then knowing he was leaving on top of it…it was just too much for him.”

You nodded, rubbing your hands on your arms for some sort of comfort, feeling like your heart was breaking all over again, but this time for Will rather than because of him.

“I’m not making excuses for him,” Benny went on, leaning with his arms up on the barbell that hung across the rack. “I don’t agree with what he did, I just know how messy things can get in that head of his, and as his brother I kinda always have to have his back, but it doesn't mean I’m on his side.”

You nodded, at a loss for words as your mind tried to process everything.

It was a helpless feeling, having some sort of understanding now but unable to do anything about it, wondering if you should send Will a message or have Benny pass one along, but all you wanted to tell him was you loved him and that was probably something he didn’t need right now.

“Thanks for telling me,” you said softly, all of your anger replaced with sadness and worry, your heart aching in your chest.

Time continued to pass but did nothing to heal, each day marking another one gone without a word between you and Will, leaving you more unclear than ever at what to do, feeling that if he wanted anything to do with you, he would’ve reached out by now.

Not wanting to put Benny in the middle of it, you never once asked him to interfere or treated him as a messenger, only asking how his brother was doing when he hadn’t told you on his own and thankful that he usually would provide an update anyway knowing you were wondering.

The last time you saw the younger Miller you had dropped off a week’s worth of food, having prepped a variety of high fat and carb meals, helping to get him ready for his upcoming fights in a new weight class.

Cooking for Benny was just the type of distraction you needed, feeling useful and productive and able to put this latent energy into something good for someone else, offering to make his meals for him each week so he didn’t have to worry about his nutrition while focusing on his training.

He had told you as he helped unload all the food from your car that Will was due to return home soon, a matter of days or weeks but there was no exact date yet, and every time you went to the gym or to the grocery store, you braced yourself for a run-in with the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

You finished washing your face and brushing your teeth, checking your phone one last time before leaving it on your dresser for the night, never getting used to the disappointment you felt at not seeing a sweet message from Will like you used to whenever he wasn’t with you, and still holding hope that whenever it did buzz with a text, it would be Benny saying Will was back.

Your anxiousness was getting the better of you, feeling like it was worsening each day to the point you were struggling to sleep even more than what had now become your normal, never resting for more than a couple of hours at a time if you were lucky.

So many things passed through your mind in those hours spent awake, some of which consisted of that outstanding offer for a date with Cam, not declining it yet despite knowing it was something you didn’t want anything to do with. Nicole and Grace would still bring it up whenever you talked but didn’t put any pressure on you, both of them knowing deep down you were happiest with Will, and you weren’t about to jeopardize any remaining chance with him until you knew for sure that there was an absolute finality to your relationship.

Not feeling tired but knowing you needed to try to sleep, you crawled into bed, nestling yourself under the covers on the side that Will used to occupy, closing your eyes in hopes your mind would drum up the memory of his arms wrapped around you.

You knew you shouldn't do it, knowing it wasn't helping you move on and that some might deem it unhealthy, but every time you laid in bed you imagined him with you and it was becoming the only thing that would get you to sleep.

It had been your haven; the warmth of his body and your limbs tired and wonderfully achy from sex providing all the comfort you needed to drift off, both of you usually able to sleep soundly with the exception of Will having the occasional nightmare until his mind plagued him with the one that he couldn’t get past.

How could it be so wrong to go back to a time when a version of you didn't haunt his dreams, when you had brought each other nothing but love and understanding and a sense of safety and security? You kept replaying what Benny had told you about his nightmare over and over, the sense of guilt you had over it working to torture you just as much as the dream tormented Will.

You sighed, squeezing your eyelids tight, doing everything in your power to recall the feel of his lips on your neck, his breath ghosting over your skin as he wished you goodnight, his beard scratching against you in the most addicting way as he tucked his face as close to yours as he could.

Tears started to spring from your eyes the harder you shut them, thinking how you would give it all up in a heartbeat so Will could be happy and live a life with all of his worries put at ease even if it meant you couldn’t be a part of it.

Will picked at the frayed laces on his boot as he listened to the dial tone, one leg bent to rest on his knee while waiting for Benny to pick up, excited to share the news that he was flying home tomorrow and to get an update on Benny’s training, knowing he had been working hard to put on the last few pounds needed to put him in the Light Heavyweight class.

“Sup, bro?” he finally answered, out of breath.

“Hey, Ben. You running?”

“Just in the middle of some light spars. Got my first fight tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, buddy!” he hollered, his excitement palpable through the phone.

“That’s awesome, Benny,” Will praised, proud of his brother for reaching his goal.

“How’re you doing?” Benny panted.

“I’m okay,” he paused, planting his foot down so both were on the ground and scratching his head. “Coming in tomorrow.”

“Fuck, seriously?”

“Yeah…”

“Shit. The fight is in Fort Myers, I can’t pick you up, man.”

Will tried his best to disguise his disappointment, his leg bouncing as he tried to level his voice.

“It’s fine, I’ll take a cab or get Redfly to drop me off,” he suggested, knowing he wouldn’t even ask his friend since Tom would be so eager to be reunited with his girls.

Benny sighed, “You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I’m just sorry I’ll miss that fight.”

“There will be more, don’t worry,” he assured. “Safe flight home, eh?”

“Thanks Benny. Good luck tomorrow. Knock ‘em dead.”

Benny chuckled, “Yeah, I will. See you soon, bro.”

Will ended the call and sat for a minute, the bit of excitement he felt about coming home diminished, feeling a sense of dejection that he officially had no one there for him.

He considered all of his options, the thought of reaching out to you even crossing his mind, but knew that he couldn’t and he would just have to settle for whatever warm welcome the cab driver wouldn’t provide him.

He blew air out of his mouth slowly, starting to feel like he couldn't capture a proper breath, closing his eyes as the sense of self-inflicted and well-deserved dread he was now accustomed to consumed him.

One, two, three…he counted, the numbers switching from the sound of his own voice to yours, repeating them with each breath in and out until he secured a consistent pattern.

Tomorrow.

You knew what it meant without any other context, the single word appearing on your screen from Benny making your heart jump into your throat, and you grabbed the edge of the countertop behind you with shaky hands as you leaned against it.

He had promised to tell you when he knew for sure and here it was, the day you had hoped for for so long, but one you were also terrified for.

Will was coming home.

As a slew of emotions ran through you, it dawned on you that his arrival happened to be on the same day as Benny’s fight, and you wondered if that meant anyone would be there to welcome him home.

You picked up your phone to reply to Benny, thinking of asking him who was planning to pick Will up from base, but as soon as you started typing the message, you hit the arrow to delete it, putting your phone back down on the counter.

It wasn’t your business, you told yourself, fighting every urge to make it yours, the thought of Wil returning home from the hells he faced with no one there for him breaking your heart.

You figured you were the last person he would want to see anyway, and knowing you had the potential to send him even more over the edge made you feel sick, thinking of how much had changed from when you were the one who used to bring him peace.

The flight was long, and it felt like every muscle in Will’s body ached as he walked off the plane and waited to board the bus that would bring them to the base station, feeling so close but still so far from being home.

There was continuous chatter around him, the excitement of all the soldiers about reuniting with their loved ones making Will feel happy and sad at the same time, and he did his best to seem enthused when asked if he was looking forward to going home.

He checked his phone more times than he needed to, having sent Benny a text that he had landed to which he responded with a thumbs up emoji, part of him hoping that there would be something from you, only to remember he didn’t deserve any grace for his actions.

He was getting everything he deserved, he thought as he pressed his head back against the headrest after sitting down, sighing out slowly while closing his eyes, finding it amusing that being alone was something he was both looking forward to and completely dreading.

It wasn’t long before the bus arrived at base, and Will remained in his seat until everyone else had gotten off, not wanting his fellow troops who were so eager to hold their loved ones to be held up by him who was only going to wait for a fucking cab.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way through people hugging, a weak smile forming on his lips in seeing one of his friends holding his newborn baby, and not far off did he watch Tom embrace both of his daughter’s in his arms, picking them up and swinging them around until they were screaming with delight.

After making his way to the doors, he pulled out his phone and looked up the number for a taxi, rubbing his other hand over his tired eyes roughly, praying it wouldn’t take long for one to show up.

The area he stood in was quiet with everyone else still lingering behind, but he glanced up when he noticed a couple walking past hand-in-hand, pausing to steal a kiss.

Will was about to hit the number to dial for Taxi Tampa when he looked up again, his eyes landing on a familiar face and one he couldn’t forget even if he tried.

You had just walked in and were stopped in your tracks as you noticed him at the same time, your face a mix of so many emotions that Will could hardly pick one out.

You gave a small shrug and shook your head, silently explaining that you didn’t really know what you were doing there, and Will all but choked as he tried to take a breath, his shock in seeing you completely overwhelming.

He dropped his bag and let his phone fall on top of it, stepping toward you in purposeful strides, his eyes welling up just the same as yours were.

“I wasn’t sure if I should even come but…I had to show up for you,” you shook out, Will’s hands reaching to cup your face, his thumbs smoothing your cheeks as tears started to fall down them.

He nodded in response, unable to say anything, his own tears breaking their threshold as you grabbed onto his forearms, rubbing them through his shirt as he continued to hold onto you.

He pulled you into a hug, relieved when you embraced him just as hard, feeling himself relax into you, his face nuzzling your head.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, alternating his remorse with ‘thank you’ between pressing kisses onto your forehead and hair, your sobs making your body lurch against his.

Your hands pawed at his back, clawing at his fatigues like you were trying to hold onto him for good, and Will prayed with everything he had that you never would let go.

He wasn’t sure how long you stayed like that for, but he eventually felt himself calm down, relishing in holding you and being in your presence again, knowing he would do everything in his power to make every bit of hurt up to you.

Will inhaled deeply, letting it go slowly out of his mouth, feeling like he could finally breathe properly again after all this time.

It was surreal to be in his arms, his warm embrace something you missed more than you imagined you could have, the feel of his body on yours and his scent surrounding you so familiar.

His heartbeat thrummed in your ear as you continued to rest your face on his chest, hearing his breathing having evened out and realizing yours had done the same.

You reluctantly pulled away to look at him, still keeping your arms locked around his middle. “Should we get you home?”

Will’s mouth turned up on one side, his crooked smirk making you melt.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his hand falling to land on your lower back as you both turned to where his bag was left on the floor.

You expected a moment like this to feel awkward, but it was anything but, like you were learning each other all over again, standing in Will’s room with your arms around each other’s waist, your faces so close and your lips inches from touching.

Finally, Will leaned into you, softly pressing his lips on yours, making you hold your breath as you let your eyes close and kissed him back, a broken moan transferring into his mouth as you forced yourself to try to take in air again.

His hand ran across your back, pulling you close to him as he took a step into you, your shirt slipping up so his palm splayed out on your skin, that sensation alone making you shiver in addition to how good it felt to have his lips on yours again.

Kisses grew more intense as each second ticked by, only pausing when he lifted your shirt over your head, and despite feeling so desperate, you both continued to keep every touch slow and careful.

His fingers pinched the clasp of your bra together to release it, moving the straps down your shoulders until it fell from your body, returning his hands to your arms where he trailed his fingertips up them to your neck and then down to your bare chest.

You found the buttons on his shirt, blindly unfastening each one until you were able to peel it open, feeling his smooth chest and the defined muscles of his torso, his warmth radiating out onto you.

Will reached up to take hold of your face, angling your head to press his tongue deeper in your mouth, stealing every bit of air from you in the process.

Breathe, your mind begged, but kissing him was better than breathing.

The rough material of his fatigues brushed against your nipples, making your breath hitch in your throat even more, your body moving to rub against him again to replicate the feeling.

You were rid of your pants and underwear next, leaving you naked while Will remained in his uniform, but the intoxicating feel of your skin on his bare chest let him know that he needed to have as much skin-on-skin contact as possible, and he tore the garment off his upper body quickly before moving to his pants.

Once you were bared to each other, you returned to your slow caresses, touching and exploring with light fingers and hands, your pleasure brought on purely by love.

You stopped kissing him for a moment, teasing your lips on his until you managed to whisper, your voice thick with lust.

“I need you, Will. I need you inside me.”

His nose nudged your cheek as he agreed with the nod of his head, his hands clasping your face again like he feared if he went too long without kissing you, you would vanish.

He took your hand and led you to the bed, sitting down on it and shifted back slightly where you followed, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, looking into his vibrantly blue eyes as he gazed at you lovingly.

His hands slid all along your back, bringing you closer to his body before they landed on your legs, guiding you to put them straight so they were behind him and you were seated flush against his lap.

You breathed out slowly as your forehead rested against his, feeling his cock settle at your folds, and when you moved your hips ever so slightly, you gasped at the sensation.

Will kissed along your jawline, his hands massaging your hips, ready to assist as you lifted yourself enough to reach between your bodies and take hold of his cock, guiding him to your entrance where you slowly sank onto his length.

Short, shuddered breaths were exchanged between you before you found each other’s lips again, and you gradually began to move together, finding a tempo that sang to you and helped display the love that had been missing.

Will held onto every part of you that he could, grasping at you as you rocked and rode him, his hips jutting up into yours in slow, meticulous thrusts to give you everything you needed, feeling your desperation grow while his did too.

Your clit rubbed against the coarse hairs above his cock, grinding until you were at the edge, the way your wet walls clenched around and encased him driving him to the brink what felt like faster than ever.

Even though you were both quick to arrive at your climaxes, nothing about it was rushed, savouring each movement to get there and not taking a single second for granted, every emotion felt transferred through your bodies.

Will kissed you hard, groaning into your mouth as he came undone, coating your walls and filling you completely with his hot cum that started to leak out of you as you continued to move on his shaft, your orgasm lagging just seconds behind.

Your fingers clawed at the back of his neck, scratching and digging into his flesh as your body took every bit of pleasure from him, the seal of your mouths breaking as you both panted for air, his head falling into the hollow of your neck while yours rested on the side of his, his hair soft on your cheek.

His mouth smeared wet across your collarbone as he moved his face, pressing sloppy, lazy kisses onto your skin as he continued to hold you close, feeling his chest and back expand and contract with each heavy breath while you kept your arms secured around him.

Will brought you with him as he laid down on his sheets, your bodies still connected, his fingertips tracing your hairline before he leaned toward you and kissed your lips again.

After a few more minutes of kissing, you tucked your face into his neck, your legs entwining with his, Will rolling over onto his back where he held your hand and brought it to rest on his chest.

A silent agreement seemed to settle between you to leave the talking until tomorrow, right now needing to simply be with each other, and like nothing had ever gone wrong, Will closed his eyes and fell asleep, his mind and body finding a peace he didn’t think he would ever have again.

---

Part 8

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

@spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi @charethcutestory02

@christinhunnam @hp-hogwartsexpress

[karmacharmeleon18]

Due to popular demand, here's my Ateez Plastic Surgery post!

Sorry it took me a while but I had to do some editing to respect the limit of 30 pictures per post

Remember that all of this started from a few asks I received on the topic, and my autistic brain decided to fixate on it: I'm not writing this post out of malice or as criticism of Ateez, I simply need to get it out of my system so I can move on! 😂

I love these boys as all of you do and see nothing shameful in plastic surgery

And speaking of asks received, I want to thank all the people that have shown interest and support in my messages and inbox: I really didn't expect anyone to appreciate my musings about such a taboo topic, so thank you so much for being kind and interested! ❤

First things first:

For any Atiny that doesn’t want to see this: block the tag "ateez plastic surgery" and you won’t have to!

But if you’re interested in reading, know that I will not post any pictures of actual surgeries, so don’t worry if you’re squeamish.

Let's go!

We all know how beautiful Ateez noses are, we all adore them, right?

And I think, if the surgery allegations are well-founded, they truly show the GENIUS and MASTERY of Korean plastic surgeons

They did not give every member the same exact nose (as it’s so common in the West, where you can tell from miles away when someone got their nose done)

They kept all the personality, all the quirks of their noses, all that makes them interesting and beautiful and unique

They simply made them slimmer

(slimmer, but not necessarily smaller; big noses are just so beautiful)

I’ve seen K-Pop fans (not Atiny, but in general) say things like: “That was their nose as a teenager, they are grown men/women now!”, or: “They lost weight, of course their face changed!”

Noses are bone, cartilage, soft tissues and skin, their size and shape is not affected by weight loss as there are no fat cells stored in your nose

Your nose changes during puberty, but by the time you are 18, it has stopped growing/changing shape and size

Any natural change in shape and size as an older teen (18-19) and adult might be due to medical conditions, but that’s not the case for the vast majority of idols

With all of this out of the way, let’s begin a more in-depth analysis!

Now, for those interested in the topic but not in my yapping, I have found a YouTube video from 2022 about this:

According to the video:

Hongjoong had a rhinoplasty* and a chin implant (*I think he possibly had 2 + fixed his front teeth)

Seonghwa had a rhinoplasty and double eyelid surgery (I think he possibly had a chin implant too)

Yunho had 2 rhinoplasties* and double eyelid surgery (*I agree)

Yeosang had a rhinoplasty and double eyelid surgery

San had a rhinoplasty

Mingi had a subtle rhinoplasty (kinda disagree? I think he actually had a silicone implant that he took out during his hiatus; when he came back his nose looked different and I suspect his current nose might be closer to his natural one, if not the natural one)

Wooyoung had a rhinoplasty, outer eye corners cut and ptosis repair

Jongho had a rhinoplasty, double eyelid surgery and ptosis repair

Again, I can’t stress how common plastic surgery is in South Korea. Korean teens get it as birthday presents! I’m talking rhinoplasties, chin implants, double eyelid and even jaw shaving surgeries, as teenagers. And imagine how much more common it is for celebrities!

Korean surgeons are absolutes masters at making “improved” facial features look as natural as possible

Now here is my opinion for each member

Hongjoong

I think the rhinoplasty is pretty obvious. Hongjoong with his natural nose used to be almost the spitting image of Bumjoong:

Spot the difference!

(keep in minded that Bumjoong might have had his nose slightly "fixed" as well, and double eyelid surgery 👀 this is pure speculation because I have 0 pics of him as a teen, but what I'm saying is: they might have looked even more alike when they were younger)

And here's more young Hongjoong:

Edit: a lovely Atiny sent me the side profile pics I couldn't find on my own! So I added them in the collage above. As you can see, Hongjoong's nose used to be flatter and more hooked than Bumjoong's

But then predebut/debut and rookie Hongjoong had a very sharp nose that almost curved upwards; it looked "perfect"... but quite unnatural, like it could cut glass:

And this is the nose he has now, much softer, less pointy, more natural looking; and - incidentally - very similar to the nose his mom has (right pic), which is why people say "he didn't inherit her nose, he inherited her surgeon" (kinda mean but also hilarious):

And here are his natural teeth, slightly crooked and with a bit of a gap vs his debut/current teeth (ft super sharp debut nose):

And a pic from the video about a possible chin implant:

So possibly, he had a first rhinoplasty (and chin implant?) in high school, maybe because he was set on working in the entertainment industry and knew that would help, or maybe he had already signed with KQ and he had the surgery in preparation for a possible debut

The second rhinoplasty might have happened during the height of COVID, when concerts and events were postponed and cameras weren’t as focused on him

As for his teeth, I don’t know if he used some sort of braces to realign them, or if he got veneers. In 2023 he also accidentally hit his mic against his front teeth and chipped one of them, but now his teeth are as perfect as always and he got them fixed easily and quickly, so maybe veneers?

Seonghwa

Pre-debut Seonghwa is my WEAKNESS. He looks like he could and would beat up current Seonghwa for fun lmao

I totally understand why the KQ staff thought he was going to kill them if they didn’t let him pass the audition

And I understand why Hongjoong was so intimidated...

Imagine being the freakiest twink in the Itaewon bathrooms and this piece of murderous beef shows up:

(I'm pretty much the same age he was predebut/at debut, so I don't feel weird lusting after him... maybe in a few years I'll have to take this post down lol)

Now, I have seen all sorts of allegations (because people just can’t comprehend how someone can be so beautiful ) starting with him getting his jaw shaved and a chin implant

The way your face shape looks can be affected by make-up, lighting, weight loss, perspective, so I’m not very good at detecting surgeries of this kind (unless the before-after is a monumental change)

His chin does look more pointy now compared to the past:

How much of it is weight loss? And how much is surgery? Surgery seems more likely in this case, the shape looks completery different

One thing that does not change with weight loss is your nose, so maybe as the video says he had a rhinoplasty to make the bridge slimmer and the tip and nostrils more defined:

(his nose was wider, flatter, less defined)

As for the double eyelid surgery, it’s also entirely possible, as the pics above already showed. He might have always had double eyelids (though in the pictures above it doesn’t look like it) but now he definitely does. It’s not make-up, it’s not eyelid tape. Something changed:

(this is a screenshot I was sent of a tiktok video, because I'm not the only one that noticed these details)

Before, his upper lid used to be very prominent, but now he definitely has visible double eyelids:

But something I adore about him is that even after a slimming rhinoplasty, his nose is not "perfect"; from the side, his bridge has the slightest bump, and when he truly smiles (the famous Seonghwa pained smile/happiness that looks like pain), his nose looks almost hooked:

This is an instance of Korean surgeons knowing exactly how far to go when “fixing” a nose

They don’t want each patient to have the same exact nose

This is, undeniably, Seonghwa’s nose

The bridge is simply a bit slimmer, the nostrils and tip more defined

(and the same goes for Wooyoung, the surgeon still left him with Wooyoung’s nose, they just made it slimmer, it’s genius work)

Yunho

Yunho is the only confirmed case of plastic surgery in the whole team

During the Wave era he told Atiny that one time he fell asleep on a bus, the bus driver hit the brakes a bit too hard, too suddenly, and Yunho’s reflexes weren’t enough to spare him: he fell and broke his nose

The problem? When he told us this story, his nose was different from the nose he has right now

So he had at least 2 nose jobs: the one he told us about, that happened pre-debut, and another, more recent one that got him the nose he has today

This is his natural nose:

Then this is his nose at debut + during the Wave era (the blond pic is from the video he told us about his old nose surgery); by this point he's already had one nose surgery which made his nose a bit more defined, the nostrils more accentuated:

But this is his nose now:

More pointy, bony, the shape overall more sharp and less roundish, lost almost all softness

So Yunho most likely had 2 nose jobs: one he told us about during the Wave era, that happened years before, and another one that got him the nose he has today.

Now, I’m not saying he’s a liar! Maybe pre-debut he did need surgery after breaking his nose! And maybe he needed a second one because he still had some lingering issues! And plastic surgeons being plastic surgeons, they made his nose smaller/straighter/more conventionally attractive because that’s their job

The video also alleges he had a double eyelid surgery, but all the pics I found of young Yunho are a bit too grainy to be sure. It does look like he has a double eyelid on his left eye, while his right eye looks more like a monolid, so maybe he had that fixed to be more symmetrical? And both lids were very prominent, even the one that was already double. It's hard to tell for sure, but it's entirely possible

Yeosang

I have to say I agree with the video, both when they say he possibly had a nose job&double eyelid surgery, and when they say they were absolutely unnecessary lol (tbf I think they all were unnecessary)

Before:

His nose is less defined, looks bigger, and his eyelids are very prominent

Now:

His nostrils are still prominent, but the bridge is slimmer, giving his nose an overall more defined look; and now he definitely has double eyelids

San

According to the video, he had a rhinoplasty to slim down the bridge of his nose, and I guess I can see it:

His nose was flatter and larger, now it's slimmer and more defined (sorry I keep using this word but it makes sense in my head? I hope you get what I'm trying to say) with a more pointy tip.

And I think that’s it? Some say some type of eyelid surgery but I don't know, I'm really not good at detecting those unless they're very obvious lol and very few surgeries in Ateez are "very obvious", most of them are masterfully subtle

Mingi

Mingi is a tough one to figure out, he definitely got something done to his nose, but for the longest time I couldn't figure out what exactly

Because Mingi is the only member whose nose got less perfect with time

He did the opposite of all the other members, instead of having his nose permanently “fixed”, he had a previous cosmetic tool removed

The video says he had his nose slimmed down, like the others, but I don’t know if I agree. In the pic they used, it does look like it, but then other pictures of young Mingi (at that same age) show that he’s always had a slim nose. I think that in the pic used in the video, lighting was playing some tricks

It’s hard to say definitively, because all the pictures we have of Mingi are either too old (Mingi was a child, his slim nose back then might have changed with puberty), too grainy (I straight up can’t see his nose well lol) or too close to debut (he might have already gotten something done)

But in his high school pics, his nose could be his natural nose

Why? Because it does not look exactly like his debut nose, it's not as sharp and "perfect"

High school Mingi’s nose is more similar to the nose he has today:

Big but not super pointy and triangular

On the other hand, debut Mingi’s nose had a high bridge, was straight, sharp, almost triangular and “perfect”, a surgeon’s dream

But then when he came back from his hiatus, it was slightly and yet visibly different, his nose bridge was lower, the tip less sharp, it looked overall more curved and less pointy

Debut vs Now pics:

Debut: high bridge, sharp tip

Now: lower bridge and softer tip

Debut Mingi's nose had a very high bridge that started right after the curve of his forehead

High school and current Mingi's nose has some space between his forehead and the start of his nose/he has a lower bridge, and it looks overall softer

The tip now almost seems to point downwards at times, depending on the perspective, because there's no more silicone bar pulling his nostrils forward and lifting the tip

His nose today looks also slightly smaller than his debut nose, again because the're no more silicone bar pulling the soft tissues forward

Mingi's softer, rounder nose after his hiatus/now:

... Mingi’s nose today is a nose a plastic surgeon would generally fix. Surgeons want high bridges and sharp tips (Mingi’s debut nose), maybe not for the average person, but definitely for an idol

Mingi went in the opposite direction, he removed the high bridge and sharp tip

Unlike the rest of Ateez, Mingi removed what made his nose so perfect

But how?

I think that instead of a traditional nose job (which usually breaks and shaves bone and reshapes cartilage), his pre-debut self possibly had a silicone implant inserted in his nose, to make it higher, straighter, pointier and “perfect” for debut

(do not google nose silicone implants 🤢 it's literally a solid "bar" - for lack of a better term off the top of my head - made of silicone and inserted along the lenght of the bridge)

Then during his hiatus, he had it removed, so now we see his nose how it could have looked naturally

His nose today is also slightly curved, usually it's barely visible, only from certain angles and when the light hits it in the right way, but again, it's something a surgeon would fix:

Top row

Rengoku pic: no visible curve but his nose look less slim because of the lighting, very similar to his nose in the high school pics

Middle&Right pics: slightest curve detectable

Bottom row, most recent Mingi pics from GHpt3

Pic on the left (right side profile): softer, slightly curved

Pic on the right (left side profile): straight, pointy

(again, asymmetrical, a surgeon would fix this)

Let's take Wooyoung as an example of a nose curved on purpose:

Wooyoung’s curve is visible from the side, it gives him a very interesting, sensual and above all distinctive and unique side profile, which a good surgeon would aim for

Mingi’s curve is (slightly) visible from the front, and varies depending on which side of his profile you're looking at; it’s something a surgeon would deem asymmetrical and want to fix

And I don’t think this is the result of a botched cosmetic surgery: Mingi and his perfect debut nose had no reason to get another cosmetic surgery and, what, enhance the perfection even more? This is not a case of surgery gone wrong

He had a perfect nose and decided to make it less perfect

Why???? I don’t know

But when Mingi went on hiatus for 8 months, he actually didn’t know if he wanted to come back to Ateez. He didn’t know if he wanted to be an idol anymore

So maybe he got the implant removed to reclaim possession of his face, as a rejection of the idol life that had brought him so much anxiety and hardships

Maybe because of his anxiety he also experienced some sort of body dysmorphia? Like he looked in the mirror and couldn’t recognize the face staring back at him, all he saw was Song Mingi the idol

If he was going to come back, he was going to come back as his old self, the real Mingi, not the perfect version the industry wanted

In conclusion, Mingi’s nose became less conventionally perfect with time, which makes me think he had whatever cosmetic tool he had used for debut removed during his hiatus, and now we see his nose in his (possible) natural state

As for the eye ptosis repair theory mentioned in the video, I have no idea. I’m not good at detecting this type of thing and as I said, Mingi’s old pics aren’t super reliable. But Mingi’s eyes are still a big insecurity of his, and in the past he wanted double eyelids. I think if he’d had ptosis repair surgery, he would’ve gotten double eyelid surgery at the same time? I don’t see why he would get one and not the other. Mingi’s eyes are still smaller than other members’ (to his perpetual chagrin), so I don’t think he had anything done there?

Wooyoung

Wooyoung, like Seonghwa, is another obvious case of masterful rhinoplasty

Side by side comparisone Before vs Now:

His nose used to be larger and seemed to lack the sexy curved slope he has today

Before:

Larger and rounder

Now:

Slimmer and beautifully sloped

As for the allegations of eye surgery, I don't think that's the case here? Woo's eyes are pretty uneven, the left one has a slight double eyelid, the right one does not. A surgeon would've fixed that imo

Jongho

I'm running out of space for pictures 😭 sorry everyone and Jongho

The creator of the video says rhinoplasty, double eyelid surgery and ptosis repair

Top row

His nose now seems more defined and slighlty smaller (rhinoplasty) and his eyes a bit larger and the lids less prominent (ptosis repair)

Bottom row

Jongho always had double eyelids (AND LOOK HOW CUTE HE WAS!!!)

The ptosis repair is still possible tho, to make the eyes open wider

But honestly Jongho has such a baby face for me, it's hard to be sure!

And now I'm done! I hope you enjoyed!

[creechurrr]

Okay, the one thing that I'm beginning to realize is that I am not sure if Lu Guang really has dived several times to save Cheng Xiaoshi. But there's also some confusing details that imply he HAS dived several times. First is in episode one of Bridon Arc, Lu Guang seems very taken aback being in his past body and location; if he's dived several times, why is he surprised and looking at his body and location in shock? Of course it could just be having to get used to everything again; it's probably been awhile since he's dived in the past if he came from several years in the future.

Lu Guang states that he has just one last shot to save Cheng Xiaoshi and everyone, which I assumed meant that he has dived into every photo he has and is at the last one. But that also doesn't make sense; surely he's taken photos before he met Cheng Xiaoshi? It could be something to do with his mysterious past, and I don't know if Lu Guang can just take new photos in his dives and use those so that he never runs out of chances.

Another thing is that it seems like Lu Guang has done the Bridon trips several times, where everything leads back to that place. That could just be though referring to Cheng Xiaoshi's parents, Vein, Liu Xiao, and Xia Fei though, because Lu Guang only seems to know of one option each time they encounter something in the arc. He gets so stressed out by the changes that he literally gets himself sick, but if he's done this before surely he's done minor changes before?

I'm not certain, but I think maybe Cheng Xiaoshi was the first person to dive and save Lu Guang, which then led to Lu Guang going back to save him in exchange. I just thought of this so the theory is kinda loose, but Cheng Xiaoshi knew exactly where to jump in front of the bullet Vein shot at Lu Guang and when. He's already expressed the desire to dive back to save Lu Guang before, and I don't buy into the fact that he wouldn't have dived at some point if Lu Guang really was dead. This theory doesn't explain why Vein was going after JUST Lu Guang for "changing time", but this could all be the worst result of them bending time for each other. I had more weight to my theory with Cheng Xiaoshi but I'm so stupidly tired that I should probably just come back later. This post is probably really incoherent and I really need these two to STAY ALIVE AND LIVE HAPPILY in season 3. I'm gonna lose my mind if they have to be ripped apart from each other.

Edit: Another thing is that if this IS his first time diving, why would he choose a photo way at the beginning of when they first met? Lu Guang was bleeding out and seemed to have the photo ready, so it had to be planned. But then why, when he dove into it, was he contemplating going back to his present time after meeting Cheng Xiaoshi? He hadn't done or changed anything, did he just want to see Xiaoshi again? Had he planned to meet Cheng Xiaoshi on the basketball court and then not meet up with him again but couldn't bring himself to leave the dive? I'm unsure if Lu Guang knows about the 12 hour time limit BECAUSE of that specific dive or because someone told him/he learned that the hard way. He mentions "his master" a couple times when teaching Cheng Xiaoshi about his abilities, so that could be it, but again, with Lu Guang's unknown past, he could be making that up.

As well, if Lu Guang has dived enough times that his hair has turned white (and his age is purposely left unknown), then why does he stress out so much over changes? Of course things usually go wrong in a bad way when they go off course, but if Lu Guang was experienced enough that he has gone through what is likely hundreds of photos from his time with Cheng Xiaoshi, I feel like he would be able to adapt better and not feel like everything should be in a rigid line. Lu Guang constantly seems baffled and frustrated when things go off course in the Bridon Arc, remembering them as ONE thing, but if he goes back farther and farther in time over and over, then surely he knows that he cannot in anyway keep things exactly the same.

The biggest thing against my idea he has dived only once, though, is that after Cheng Xiaoshi dies, he seems to know very quickly that he has his abilities now. Sure they could have discovered Qiao Ling in that universe absorbing Li Tianxi's powers, but it's a big leap in logic especially in that grieving state and for Lu Guang, while bleeding out, pick a photo and dive.

But there's also so many things that just don't make sense for Lu Guang to react or say in such a way for an experienced diver going back over and over to save his friends. He just seems so consistently... Confused 😅 He's frustrated and doesn't understand what he's doing, and doesn't even seem to understand "time", as much as he may like to think he does. But Lu Guang had the maturity of someone a lot older than his supposed age, buT-- oh it's so confusing... I may perish before season 3 comes out man...

[winchesterwild78]

An Unexpected Friendship pt 10

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: FLUF, Smut!

A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309.

This chapter is the FINAL chapter. I’ve loved creating this story with @cheekygirl2309. I’ve had so much fun and enjoyed reading all of the love and support for this story. 

No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. Written and edited fast-please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

The next few months were so amazing. Jensen was true to his word and invited Josh’s parents to every big event we had. I was grateful they came and felt like they were family. Jazzy was also so proud of her new last name. 

When we went to the school to change her name, she proudly announced she was an Ackles. The secretaries smiled and congratulated her. In public she would introduce Jensen as her daddy. Since our engagement and the adoption, social media had exploded with stories and pictures of all of us. 

Jensen and I officially went public and most of the fans were supportive. I did my best to tune out the negative and focus on the positive ones. It was hard at times, but I knew I had Jensen to help navigate me through it. 

Jensen and I talked about the wedding and we both agreed we wanted a small, intimate ceremony with just our children, close family and friends. Since Jensen officiated his wedding, Jensen reached out to Jeffery Dean Morgan to officiate ours. He was thrilled to do it. I was excited to meet him and his family. We had FaceTimed, but never met in person. 

Jensen and I also wanted to write our own vows. It took me by surprise when he mentioned it. I was nervous, because how do you really put into words how someone saved you when you thought you weren’t worth saving. I love Jensen, and I only hoped I could put it into words good enough to show him how much he means to me. 

Our wedding date was set, we were going to have a Spring wedding. Mid-April, at dusk, and hopefully under a tent. I of course told Jensen we needed a backup plan in the event of rain. “It’s Texas sweetheart, I don’t think it’s going to rain.” “Still, I’d like a backup plan.” I chuckled.

“Okay, how about we have it at The Allan House, right here in Austin? It has space inside and out. So if we have to move it inside we can still have it in the same place. The ceremony and reception can all be there.” He pulled it up on the computer and the photos were breathtaking. I smiled, “Jensen, it’s beautiful. Do you really think we can book it?”

“Absolutely, I know the owner, so I’ll give them a call.” I playfully rolled my eyes, “Of course you do.” Jensen laughed and called. When he got off the phone he smiled, “We’re all set, sweetheart. Are you ready to start planning our wedding?” 

I smiled and pulled him in my arms, “Yes, Jensen! I’m more than ready.”

*Time Jump 3 days before the Wedding*

“Jensen, I need to go with Gen and Nichole to pick up my dress. When is Jeff coming in again?” “He should be here today. His wife and the kids will be coming in tomorrow I believe. He’s going with me today to get fitted for his tux. I gave the tailor his measurements, so I hope it fits.” “Me too, Jens. Okay, I’ll be back later. I love you.” “I love you too, the kids are going with mom and dad for the afternoon, so when you get back they won’t be here.” 

I grabbed my stuff and nodded. As I got to the door I heard Jensen clear his throat. “Did you forget something, darlin’?” I turned on my heels and chuckled, “Nope.” I said, popping the “p” as I leaned in and kissed him goodbye. “How could I ever forget kissing you. It’s one of my favorite things to do.” 

Jensen chuckled, “Oh and what are some of your other favorite things to do?” I smirked, got really close to his lips again and said, “you”. Then kissed him again. He grabbed my hand as I tried to pull away, “Then what’s stopping you?” Jensen pulled me flush to his strong body and I felt his arousal straining against his jeans. 

“Baby I have an appointment at the dress shop. I don’t want to miss it, unless you want me to get married naked.” Jensen wiggled his eyebrows. I rolled my eyes and playfully hit his chest, “Jens, I’m not getting married naked. Sorry to disappoint you.” Jensen threw his head back and laughed. 

He kissed me again and we said our goodbyes. 

I arrived at the dress shop with a few minutes to spare. Gen and Nichole were waiting outside for me. They hugged me and we walked in. “Y/N! So happy to see you. Your dress is ready. Are you ready to try it on one last time?” I smiled and nodded. 

Gen and Nichole sat on the couches and waited for me. When I came around the corner both of them gasped and I saw tears in their eyes. Sally, the owner, walked behind me and fluffed the dress as I stood on the platform. “Okay, Y/N, one last touch.” She placed a veil on my head. I took a deep steady breath looking in the mirror. I looked over my shoulder at Nichole and Gen with tears in my eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Jensen isn’t going to know what hit him.” I stood there looking in the mirror and the realization hit me. I was about to get married to Jensen and I had nobody to walk me down the aisle. 

Tears started to fall. My mother had passed away not long after Josh, and my father left us when I was two. Nichole rushed to my side and pulled me close, “Shh, it’s okay sweetie. You have me, Gen, Jared and the kids.” “I know, and I love you all so much. I just don’t know how I’m going to walk down that aisle alone. My mom walked me to Josh.” 

She pulled me tight, “I can do it if you want me to.” I smiled, “I know, but I need you standing up there with me and making sure Jensen doesn’t pass out.” We all three laughed. Gen was by my side too, “Honey, you’re one of the strongest people I know. You can do this. Jensen, all of your babies and all of us are there with you and for you. You know Jared would walk you down the aisle if you wanted him to.” 

I nodded, “Yeah, he offered, but I don’t want to take him away from Jensen. He needs his brother by his side. Okay, enough of this crying. Let’s get me out of this gorgeous dress and you two into yours.”

I changed into my regular clothes, while Gen and Nichole got into their dresses. When they came out they were absolutely breathtaking. “You two are so beautiful.” Nichole squealed when she realized the dress had pockets, “Y/N! Look! It has pockets.” We all laughed, “Yep, I made sure they did, and so does mine.” 

With our dresses in hand we headed out to get some last minute things for the wedding. Gen was keeping my dress at her house so Jensen wouldn’t see it, and I already had the kids’ outfits for the wedding. The girls were wearing matching dresses and Zeppelin was wearing a tuxedo that matched Jensen’s.

Jensen and I selected Navy blue, white, and gold as our wedding colors. The main colors being blue and gold. My dress was white, and the back opened into a beautiful navy blue that ran the length of the dress, and around the top of the bodice was blue. The girls’ dresses were navy blue, with white flowers on the skirts. Jensen and Zeppelin were wearing navy blue tuxedos, and his groomsmen were wearing grey. 

As the day approached, my nerves were starting to get the better of me. I thought about my wedding with Josh and how I was so nervous before, I actually threw up in the bridal suite. I really hoped this one would be different.

*Wedding Day*

I woke up early, stretched and reached for Jensen out of habit. My heart faltered a little when my hand hit the empty bed. He stayed with Jared last night. We decided we wouldn’t see each other until the ceremony. I was so excited to see his reaction when he turned around and saw me at the other end of the aisle.

I got out of bed, showered and went downstairs to a note on the counter and an artificial rose. I knew that handwriting from anywhere, it was Jensen. I smiled because I knew he snuck in last night after I went to bed to leave this for me. 

I opened the note and smiled as I read it.

My love,

Today is the day we promise before our family and God to be together forever. The road that led us here was bumpy, but we got through it together. I can’t wait to see how beautiful you’re going to look in your dress. I know you’re going to take my breath away, like you have since the day I met you. I love you, darlin’, until that rose I left you dies. I’ll see you later, beautiful.

Love,

J

I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. I grabbed my phone and sent him a text.

Me: Thank you for my wonderful surprise this morning. I’ll love you until the rose dies too. 

Jensen: I’m glad you liked it. I love you so much baby.

Me: I love you too, handsome. I can’t wait to see you in your tux. You know what it does to me, and wait until your fans see it. They are gonna go feral. 😘 🤤

Jensen: Ha! They go feral over everything.

Me: Of course they do, have you seen you?!

Jensen: Every single day in the shower. 😉

Me: Oh you’re so mean. Now I can’t stop thinking about you naked.

Jensen: Then mission accomplished. 😂 

Me: Okay, Mr. Ackles, you’re going to pay. 

Jensen: Ooo how?

Me: *1 image sent* this is what I’m wearing under my dress

Jensen: Damn baby. Now that’s mean. I can’t wait to take that off of you. 

Me: Patience my love. Just think the whole time I’m standing next to you, dancing, we’re walking around, that is what is under my dress. Just waiting for you.

Jensen growled and adjusted his pants when he read what I wrote. 

Jensen: You’re killing me.

Me: Oops, sorry baby. 😘 I love you, I need to get ready to leave or Gen and Nichole are going to drag me out of here. 

Jensen: Yeah, Jared is banging on the door. I love you too baby. See you soon.

Gen, Nichole and I arrived at the Allan House to get ready for the wedding. Jensen’s mom had the kids, and Josh’s parents were there to help with them too. My hair and makeup was done. I wore my hair half up and half down, with ringlets cascading over my shoulders. 

Jensen was across the property in the groom’s suite when there was a knock at the door. Jared opened it and saw Bill. “May I come in?” Jared stepped to the side. Jensen was in his tux and turned to shake Bill’s hand. “Bill, thank you for being here with us today. It means so much to Y/N and I.” 

“You’re welcome. Jensen I wonder if I could talk to you in private for a minute?” “Of course. Jared, can you give us a minute?” Jared nodded and left the room. “Bill, you wanted to speak to me? Is everything okay?” “Oh yeah, everything is perfect. Y/N is like a daughter to me, us. Even before she married Josh she was part of our family. When she married Josh and had Jazzy we felt on top of the world. After Josh died, a part of her died with him, but she kept that sweet, caring heart we all loved so much. We were so thankful when she met you and fell in love again, and even more thankful you were willing to have us in your lives. We can never repay you for that, son. Jensen, Margaret and I would like you to have this. I wore them when I married Margaret, and Josh wore them when he married Y/N. We want you to have them so when Jazzy gets old enough you can give them to her to use in her wedding.” 

Bill handed Jensen a small box, when he opened it there were beautiful gold, sapphire and diamond cufflinks. “Bill, these are beautiful, I can’t take them. They belong in your family.” Bill placed a hand on Jensen’s shoulder, “Son, you are family. They belong with you and Y/N.” “Bill, I’d be honored to wear them, thank you, sir.” Jensen and Bill exchanged a hug as he took the box. 

I was standing in the bridal suite taking deep breaths, looking at myself in the mirror when there was a knock on the door. Nichole answered it and when I looked up I saw Margaret and Bill. “Wow, sweetie, you’re stunning.” Margaret said as she pulled me into a hug. 

Bill stood to the side and just looked at me. I took a deep breath, “Do I look okay?” I asked him. He stepped forward, “Sweetheart, you’re even more beautiful than the day you married Joshua. Jensen is a lucky man.” He hugged me and I felt the tears burn the back of my eyes. 

It was a few minutes until the ceremony started and I still felt a pang of sadness about walking down the aisle alone. Jensen’s mom and Margaret got the kids in place, Gen and Nichole got in place and I took one last look in the mirror. 

Bill was standing at the door waiting for me. “You okay, kiddo?” My eyes flicked to him and he saw the tears in mine. He pulled me in a hug, “Shh, you’ve got this sweetie. That man out there is in love with you and I know you two are going to be incredibly happy.” I nodded. Then it hit me. I might not have grown up with a father, but I had a dad and he was standing right there with me. 

“Bill?” “Yes, sweetie?” “If you say no it’s okay. I completely understand, but would you do me the honor of walking me down the aisle?” “It would be my honor to do that.” I nodded, he took my arm and we walked outside. 

The sun was just starting to set, so the twinkle lights under the tent were sparkling with the orange glow from the setting sun. It was breathtaking. 

I heard the music start for the kids, Gen and Nichole. Then came my music. Bill took my arm and we walked out and around the corner. Jeff motioned for everyone to stand. 

Jensen turned around and locked eyes with me. I saw tears in his eyes. I walked down the aisle, my eyes never leaving his. Trying to steady my breath, because damn did he look amazing in his tux. 

At the end of the aisle, Bill hugged me, and gave my hand to Jensen. He shook Jensen’s hand and then hugged me again. Nichole fluffed my dress and I handed her my flowers, taking both of Jensen’s hands. 

He leaned over and whispered, “God you’re so beautiful.” I smiled. 

Jeff began the ceremony and it was time for our vows. Jensen went first. "The day I met you, I knew I had found something special. You were hurting, scared, and alone. I vowed to protect you, to love you, and to give you the happiness you deserve. I promise to always be your rock, your confidant, and your love. I'm grateful for the chance to be a part of your life. You've brought light into my world. You've shown me the meaning of unconditional love. I promise to be the best husband and father I can be. I'll always be there to support you, to encourage you, and to love you. Together, we'll build a future filled with love, laughter, and happiness. I'm so grateful for the chance to love you and our daughter. You've given me a reason to live, and a purpose. I promise to always be there for you, to provide for you, and to protect you. I'll cherish every moment we share, forever. I love you, Y/N."

My breath hitched, as the tears pricked my eyes. Then it was my turn. "When I first met you, I was lost in a storm. You were the lighthouse, steady and strong, guiding me to safety. You didn't just take me in; you welcomed me and my daughter into your heart. I promise to love you, cherish you, and honor you always. Thank you for being my hero. You saw me when I couldn't see myself. You loved me when I thought love was a distant memory. You're not just my partner, you're my protector, my provider, and my best friend. I promise to be the best wife and mother I can be, to love you unconditionally, and to build a beautiful future together. I've found in you a love that's rare and true. You've shown me what it means to be loved and cared for. I promise to be your constant, your support, and your joy. Together, we'll face whatever life throws our way, hand in hand. I love you, Jensen.”

Jeff smiled and Jensen nodded at him, “Jensen and Y/N have also written vows to their children, which they will say now. 

Jensen began, "Jazmyne, I promise to always be here for you, to love you unconditionally, and to guide you on your journey. I promise to be a loving and supportive dad, and to always be there to listen and to help. When you came into my life I had no idea what was missing. You and your mom were the missing pieces in my life. I will spend the rest of my life being the dad you deserve, and helping guide you through life’s trials, and love you until all the stars fall from the sky.” Jazzy leaped in his arms and held him tight. “I love you too, daddy.”

I took a deep breath and looked at JJ, Arrow and Zeppelin. “JJ, Arrow and Zeppy, I promise to always be a source of love, laughter, and support for you three. I'll be there for your triumphs, your setbacks, and everything in between. We will tackle it all together. I vow to honor the bond you share with your dad, and the love and bond you had with your mom. I am extremely honored to be a part of your lives, and to watch you grow. I’ve loved you three since the beginning and I’ll love you three until all the stars fall. Together the six of us will be a family and will always be there to take care of each other. I love you three so much.” They hugged me tightly, “We love you too.”

When I stood up, Jeff smiled. “Jensen, do you take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?” 

Jensen looked at me and smiled, “I do.” Then Jeff turned to me, “Y/N, do you take Jensen to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?” I looked at Jensen and smiled, “I do.” 

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Jensen, you may kiss your bride.” Jensen pulled me flush to him, leaned me back and kissed me deeply. Cheers and applause erupted. When Jensen pulled me back up we turned to face everyone. “It is my honor to announce for the first time, Mr and Mrs Jensen and Y/N Ackles.” 

Jensen, and I took each other’s hands and walked down the aisle together. We walked into the bridal suite to wait for photos. Inside Jensen closed and locked the door. 

He walked over to me and pulled me in for another deep kiss. He pulled away and looked at me, “You are absolutely breathtaking, darlin’. Are you wearing that thing you sent me under this?” He tried to pull my dress to the side and I giggled. “Yes I am, but you’re going to have to wait to see it. If you mess up my hair before pictures, Gen and Nichole are going to kick your ass.” 

He pulled me flush to his body, “Worth it.” I giggled as he started to kiss down my neck. I moaned as his hands started running up and down my body. Jensen’s hands slid down to the bottom of my dress and lifted up my skirt, revealing the dark blue lingerie I was wearing. 

Jensen bit his lip and growled. “Damn baby, this is beautiful, but definitely in the way.” I grabbed his hand, and that’s when I felt the cufflinks. “Jens, where did you get these?” “Bill and Margaret gave them to me. They wanted me to wear them when I married you, because you’re like a daughter to them.” I nodded, “That’s so sweet, Jens. These look like the ones Josh wore.” “That’s because they are, sweetheart.” I gasped, “Oh wow.” 

There was a knock on the door. It was Gen telling us it was time to get pictures taken. After pictures, it was time to enjoy the reception. We danced, ate, drank and had so much fun. 

As the night wore on the kids were starting to get sleepy. Jensen’s parents were keeping the kids for the night so Jensen and I could be alone. We had decided instead of a honeymoon with just the two of us, we were going on a family moon and taking the kids with us. We were leaving in two days, so Jensen and I had two days alone.

It was time for Jensen and I to leave the reception. Everyone lined up with sparklers and created an arch for us to walk under. When we got to the end, I turned around and hugged all of the kids and told them good night. Jensen helped me into Baby, and then walked around and slid in the driver’s seat. 

He took my hand in his and kissed it. “Ready to go home, Mr. Ackles?” “You better believe it, Mrs. Ackles. I can’t wait to get you out of that dress.” 

I chuckled and bit my lip. My body tingled with anticipation of what was to come. 

Jensen pulled into the driveway and walked around to my door. He opened it and offered me his hand. When he pulled me out of the car he pulled me flush to his body. His lips hovered over mine. I could feel his hot breath on my lips. I swallowed hard, my heart beating wildly in my chest. 

Jensen kissed me softly and took my hand, leading me to the door. Opening the door, Jensen looked at me, scooped me up and carried me over the threshold. “Welcome home, Mrs. Ackles.” He gently put me down and closed and locked the door. 

As soon as the door was locked, Jensen’s lips and hands were back on me. He kissed down my neck and to my cleavage. I tilted my head back and let out a moan. “Jens, please.” 

Jensen took my hand and led me upstairs to our room. He moved my hair to the side and started to unzip my dress. I shivered when his fingers brushed against my skin. When my dress was unzipped I let it fall at my feet. 

Standing before my husband in the navy blue lingerie I had on under my dress. Jensen bit his lip, “God this looks better in person. I am one lucky man.” I blushed.   

Jensen started to take off his tuxedo. I sat on the edge of the bed, watching him strip. My thighs clenched together when he was down to his boxers. My hands ran up his toned chest and into his hair as I stood to kiss his lips. 

I could feel his arousal through the thin material of his boxers, and my arousal soaking my panties. 

Jensen laid me back on the bed, pulled me down to the side and threw my legs over his shoulders. He unsnapped the bottom of the lingerie, exposing my dripping core. “Damn baby, you’re soaked.” I bit my lip and nodded. He kissed up my thighs and when he got to my pussy he slid his fingers inside. I gasped at the sudden feeling of fullness. Jensen hooked his fingers up, and his mouth attached to my clit. He sucked and licked, pushing me closer to the edge. My hands gripping the sheets and then his hair. I threw my head back, moaning and begging him not to stop. 

“Oh fuck, Jensen! That feels so good. Don’t stop.” This encouraged him to go faster. I bucked my hips into his mouth. He sucked my swollen clit as his fingers continued pumping in and out of me, deeper and deeper. 

“Jens..I’m…gonna…cum..oh fuck!” I moaned and pulled his head into my pussy. I felt the sting of his beard rubbing on my sensitive skin. I came hard with a loud scream of his name. Jensen kept going, and as my legs tried to close, he held them apart. I came again without warning. My body is sensitive and overstimulated. I screamed his name again. 

Jensen finally leaned up, my release covering his face. He hovered over me and placed a kiss on my lips. I tasted my release and deepened the kiss. Jensen leaned up and removed his boxers, his cock pink and wet with precum. I leaned forward and took his cock in my hand. Guiding it to my mouth. I began to suck him down deep into my throat. Jensen hissed when I sucked him into his balls. 

“Oh fuck, baby! Just like that.” I continued to suck him. My hands gripped his thighs as I took every inch of him in my mouth. Jensen’s hands went into my hair and began to push my head onto his cock. 

“Yes, baby. Let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours. God, you feel so good.” The sounds of his moans and me sucking filled the room. Jensen’s breath ragged. Then he pulled me off of him.

“Jens, what happened? Did I hurt you?” Jensen cupped my face, “No darlin’ that was amazing, but if you kept it up I would have cum down your throat and I want to make love to my wife tonight.” 

I smiled and nodded. He laid me back and crawled up between my legs. “You ready baby?” I nodded. Jensen took his length in his hand and lined himself up. With one thrust he bottomed out. Both of us were moaning as he filled me up. He stopped and allowed my body to adjust to his size. 

He always stretched me in ways that had my head reeling. He began to move. His movements, slow and deliberate. He was making love to me, without hurrying through to get to his release. 

His lips trailed over my body, our fingers finding each other and interlocking as he held my hands down on the bed. Our bodies moved together in slow, deliberate motions. My body was filled with desire, love and bliss. 

“I love you, Jensen.” I whispered. “I love you too, Y/N. So much.” 

“I want you on top, baby. I want to see your beautiful body.” I nodded, Jensen pulled out and laid down. I climbed on top, lined him back up and took him back inside. I placed my hands on his chest to steady myself. I began to rock my hips back and forth. 

Jensen’s hands held onto my breasts as I continued to ride him. He was in so deep I could feel his cockhead hitting my cervix with each thrust. I rocked my hips and bounced faster. Something ignited in Jensen, because he lifted his legs up, held onto my hips and began to thrust up in me. His thrusts grew faster as his moans became louder. “Oh fuck, Y/N. You feel so good. I’m gonna cum, baby.” 

“Yes, Jensen! Cum in me, fill me up with your seed.” A few more thrusts and Jensen was grunting, spilling his hot seed inside me. I could feel his cock twitch inside me. When I felt him stop, I climbed off, went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. I came back with a washcloth and started to clean Jensen. Since he was extra sensitive he took the cloth and cleaned himself. 

When he was done he threw it to the side and pulled me close to him. Jensen cupped my face and kissed me deeply. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for coming into our lives, loving us and becoming my wife. I love you so much baby and I promise you I will love you until the end of time.” 

I smiled softly and looked into his green eyes so full of love, “I love you too, Jensen. Thank you for loving me and Jazzy and becoming my husband. I’ll love you until the end of time.” 

Jensen pulled me close to him, grabbed the blanket and put it over us. “Good night, darlin’.” I laid my head on his chest, “Good night, baby.” The two of us drifted off to sleep thinking about how an unexpected friendship could lead to this beautiful family and incredible love we created together.

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[graphicdesign9]

Talented artists who wish to develop their skills in just four months can enroll in our full Short-Term Graphic Design Courses in Delhi. You could learn important software with the help of these specialized courses in this program.

[strangelysamantha]

could I request carrington fluff? Maybe carrington gets recognized at store by some fans and they poorly treat reader, and he starts getting protective of her. Just a thought ;)

recognition ❀

carrington x fem!reader.

warnings: slight bullying, passive aggressive comments, swearing, protective carrington!

summary: after some fans expressed they weren’t fond of you, carrington doesn’t let it slide.

a/n: thank you for the request! love yall <3 like and comment and check out my master list for my other stories!! short lil fluff for yall!! 😽

—————————————-————————

you were at target, shopping with carrington for a video idea you guys had. however, since you and carrington had started dating, it didn’t take long for fans to put two and two together. you guys tried to keep it under wraps, not wanting a bunch of opinions about it. but, with numerous pop up paparazzi, and countless edits, it was no secret to anyone. a lot of fans supported it, they thought you were good for him.

“carrington! we’re huge fans, can we get a photo?!” carrington grins, glad he’s getting recognition. “of course!” he posses with them, and they happily snap photographs. the fans geek at the interaction, they notice you lingering and furrow a brow. “whose that ugly troll following you?” he turns around, to see they were talking about you. “hey don’t say that stuff, being mean isn’t cool.” they laugh, “don’t tell me that’s your girlfriend. you could do so much better than her.” he’s visibly upset now, uncomfortable by the so called fans. he frowns, “real fans wouldn’t judge the people i care about.” they shrug, “we just think you’re hot. we don’t actually care.” the two of them break out in laughter.

“don’t say that shit about her, that makes you guys sound lame.” he stares at them and they frown in response. “if you treat people that way, you can’t consider yourself a supporter of me.” he turns around to grab your hand, leading you away from the fans. they scoff, walking off. he pulled you into an empty aisle. “i’m so sorry they said that stuff.” you nod, “it’s not your fault.” he sighs, “i know. but i wish i could make it stop.” you pull him into a hug, “you still defend me, that’s the most i could ask for.” he kissed you sweetly, “you okay?” you nod, “i’m doing really good. happy to be with you.” his arm wrap around your waist as he guides you through the store, “i’m the most happiest i’ve been, with you. i won’t let anyone get in the way of that.” his words bring you security, and you feel safe with him. “thank you carrington.” he smiles, “of course.” he knew that walking so close to you around a busy target, would attract more eyes. he didn’t mind though, he was comfortable with you. he wanted to protect you; let everyone be aware of his feelings for you.

[sandcobangevent]

there's nothing like doing nothing with you

By @ilovegayangels and @colonelmajorkepler

More often than not, John would walk into 221B and find Sherlock in an unusual position. Hanging upside down was the most common one, but sometimes he was found doing the occasional headstand against the wall too.

So all things considered, seeing Sherlock lying on the floor staring blankly up at the ceiling with a fat bulldog curled up on his stomach was fairly normal.

“Whatcha doing there, mate?” John asked anyway, because it was the polite thing to do, walking further into the flat to put down the grocery bags he was carrying.

“Just thinking.”

“With… Archie?” John nodded to the dog, who was looking quite pleased with himself. However that expression looked on a dog. “He’s a bit heavy.”

Sherlock shrugged. “The pressure is nice. What are you making for dinner?”

John paused in unpacking the bags and snorted. “What, you can’t deduce it for yourself?” Even without looking, he could feel Sherlock’s eye roll.

“I could, but I can’t see from my position on the floor, and it’s actually quite comfortable.”

“So comfortable you can’t even move your head?”

“Precisely.”

Now it was John’s turn to fondly roll his eyes. “Well, master detective, I have decided to make your favourite. Pasta with–”

“–Mascarpone sauce?” Sherlock finished, pushing himself up onto his elbows despite his previous protests over moving. Archie whined at being jostled, and Sherlock absentmindedly soothed him with a light pat to the head.

John raised said jar of sauce. “You know it.”

“And the pasta shape is–”

“–Penne,” John finished, raising said bag of pasta with his other hand. “Honestly, Sherlock, give me more credit! You’d think I’d remember how you like your pasta by now.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

Sherlock flushed slightly. “Forgive me. I suppose I’m still not entirely used to being… remembered. Or cared for.”

John huffed. “Well, you should be. Cared for more, that is. You deserve it, Sherls.” Then, because the topic was starting to get a bit too honest, John abruptly cleared his throat. “Well! I’ll get started on that dinner now. Go back to your floor time. I’ll call you up when it’s ready.”

Sherlock eyed John with an expression he couldn’t understand. He really hoped he wouldn’t call him out on his sudden topic change, but thankfully, he eventually shrugged. “Okie dokie,” was all he said before plopping back into his previous position, Archie settling back into his spot with a content huff.

John let his eyes linger over the scene a little longer, feeling a small smile creep onto his face. It really was an adorable sight – he would snap a quick photo, but he knew either Sherlock or Archie would immediately sense it and ruin the moment. He instead chose to commit the scene to his mind (and remind himself to tell Mariana about it later), before finally turning back around to get started on their dinner.

It was moments like these that truly left a warm fuzzy feeling in John’s chest. Seeing his dog be so comfortable around Sherlock, their playful banter, finishing each other’s sentences… It all made him feel fulfilled and satisfied in a way he had never really felt before.

The first time he noticed it was a few weeks into their living together: John had slept in late after a long night of editing, and he had dragged himself into the kitchen to find a fresh cup of tea right next to buttered toast. He had drank the tea, noting how it was exactly the way he liked it, and felt something warm spread across his chest that wasn’t related to the beverage. He didn’t understand it at that moment, but after over a year of experiencing such a feeling, it was time to confront the truth.

John loved Sherlock. That in itself wasn’t a startling new discovery, of course. He already knew he loved Sherlock, just as much as he knew Sherlock loved him back. But he knew, deep down, it was different now. That his love had grown stronger – dangerously stronger, even, given what he tended to do once his love for someone grew too large.

You see, Carrie – and most of his exes for that matter – often told John he did too much. Giant bouquets of flowers on the first date, taking them to expensive restaurants, or bringing them to meet his mother after only a few dates. John, at first, always struggled to understand their criticisms for this: gift-giving was his love language! He wanted to see his loved ones be fed only the highest quality meals! And he wanted the woman he really liked at the time to meet the woman who raised him! Was that so wrong?

John always had so much love to give, and he felt that was the only way he knew to express it to his girlfriends. But as he stirred the penne in with the sauce, he liked to think he understood now. That sometimes love wasn’t always about the grand gestures that swept you off your feet, or the dramatic declarations that made you swoon. Sometimes love just oozed out in all the little things – like the way you knew how he liked his pasta to be cooked, or the way he remembered how much milk you liked to take in your tea. Or how you understood his seemingly random tapping of fingers across his arm to be him mentally composing a new violin piece, or the way he would calculate the chances of your favourite football team winning despite having little to no interest in the sport.

John stopped stirring. Then ultimately resumed, lest Sherlock noticed the slightest difference in taste and badger him for not mixing it properly. He had a fleeting thought that the sauce nearly spilling out of the pot was all too similar to the love he felt for Sherlock: bubbling up inside him, threatening to overflow.

Fuck, he thought. I’m already too far gone for this man.

“Alright, dinner’s ready!” John called out, hoping the slight shake in his voice wasn’t obvious. If Sherlock did notice it, which he probably did, he at least had the tact of not pointing it out.

“I can’t move, Watson,” he said with a pout. “Archie’s sleeping.”

John turned around and resisted letting out an aw. Sherlock, at some point, had moved up into a seated position to lean against the wall, and Archie had adjusted himself accordingly onto his lap, with the soft snores emitting from the bulldog letting them know he was indeed fast asleep. Realistically, of course, they could just gently lift him from Sherlock’s lap to free the man, but everyone knew it was a universal rule not to move a sleeping pet from your person.

Also, Archie really was heavy.

John clicked his tongue. “Well, there’s only one option then.” After serving the pasta into two bowls, he brought them over to where Sherlock was sitting and handed him one of them.

“This is quite unhygienic, doctor,” Sherlock said, even as he started shovelling pasta into his mouth with the slightest upturn of his lips.

John snorted as he slid against the wall to join Sherlock on the floor, holding his own bowl to his chest. “Yeah, I’m gonna pretend the man who regularly takes walks through the sewers isn’t lecturing me on hygiene.” Sherlock elbowed him gently, careful to not wake Archie. John laughed, feeling that warmth erupt in his chest again. “Besides, many people have their meals on the floor.”

“I didn’t mean that – I meant the fact we’re eating with a dog in my lap. He could wake up and start slobbering over my face and bowl at any second,” Sherlock said, holding his bowl up right to his face to not let any pasta spill onto Archie.

“Well, you’ll just have to be extra careful then.” John laughed, before absentmindedly reaching over to wipe away a smidge of sauce left on Sherlock’s cheek. Then his actions suddenly caught up to him and he froze, thumb lingering on Sherlock’s face, who was also now looking at him with wide eyes. John’s heart caught up in his throat, and he swore he heard Sherlock’s breath hitch.

Fuck, John cursed. Why do I never think before doing anything?!

The sound of Archie’s snores interrupted their standstill and John – as well as Sherlock, for some reason – cleared his throat.

“There was, uh – sorry, there was just - a little bit of sauce–”

“Oh, yes, of course–” Sherlock let out a stilted sort of laugh, reaching up to wipe the remaining sauce off. John bit back another apology. What was he sorry for? Cleaning him up? Clearly making him uncomfortable? Was he uncomfortable? But it wasn’t even the first time one of them had cleaned up after the other: John was a naturally messy eater, and more than once Sherlock had clicked his tongue and wiped at his moustache with a napkin while chiding him. John had even brushed the occasional crumbs off Mariana’s face and neither thought anything of it. But he couldn’t deny that this time was a lot more intimate – seated on the floor with their backs against the wall, shoulders touching, knees bumping into each other, his hand practically cupping the other man’s face…

Should he say something else? He should definitely say something. What should he–

“We should watch a movie,” Sherlock cut into his thoughts. John blinked at him, trying to insert himself back into the real world.

“Huh?”

Sherlock nodded to the phone still in John’s pocket. “You had movies you wanted to show me, didn’t you? The… Habit, was it? Let’s watch one while we’re eating.”

John stared at him some more before the words finally registered and he snorted.

“You mean The Hobbit, mate?” He giggled. Sherlock frowned, but John knew Sherlock well enough to know he wasn't truly upset.

“Close enough. Just pull the phone up,” he grumbled, bumping into his shoulder. John bumped his shoulder back.

“Alright, alright,” John conceded, still chuckling. He suspected this was Sherlock’s way of distracting either him or himself from whatever unspoken thing had passed between them, but regardless, it worked – the odd tension was gone, and they were back to their comfortable dynamic. Comfortable, of course, only in how familiar and warm it was – it was an awkward position, with John having to hold the phone in one hand so both could see, while still having the bowl in his lap to eat the pasta, all while trying to avoid waking up Archie. It all, of course, left that warm feeling in John’s chest again.

And when Sherlock fell asleep on his shoulder, something John knew he would regret later with how much his neck had to stretch with their height difference – well. It was worth it.

Something changed after that night. Maybe it was John's acknowledgement of his true feelings or… yeah, definitely that, but from then on, John had been experiencing that warm feeling more frequently. It came mostly in the form of noticing Sherlock and all his little quirks, of which he had plenty.

Because – and maybe this was just John's bias coming into play here – he truly believed love oozed out of Sherlock himself. Everything he did or said, regardless of if it was even related to John, would spark that feeling all over again.

And it made John fall all the more deeper in love.

Like the one time that Mariana had somehow coaxed Sherlock into giving her an impromptu dance lesson after she and John found out he had taken them as a kid. Love had oozed all the way out from Sherlock's fingertips as they twirled Mariana around and around, her laughter accompanying the music in an even greater harmony. Or the truly simple moments where Sherlock was just lounging on the sofa, lightly cradling his violin to his chest as his long fingers plucked random notes in a vaguely familiar melody.

(Also, John might seriously have some sort of thing for Sherlock’s hands. Sue him.)

There were even moments where he thought that maybe, just maybe, Sherlock felt the same way. When he would walk into the Volunteer and immediately lock eyes with John, like he had an innate radar that let him spot the other man in any given place. When John would feel Sherlock’s intense gaze on his back when he was cooking, only to have him instantly snap his eyes away once he turned around to check. And of course, on the few occasions when John’s night terrors would get just a bit too much, and Sherlock would always wordlessly lift his covers to let John shuffle in beside him, his issues with sleeping with another person in the room be damned.

So yes, John had grown impossibly more in love. And with each day that passed, he became increasingly convinced that that love was just as reciprocated by Sherlock.

So then why on earth hadn’t the master detective, expert in observing everything in the blink of an eye and notorious for explaining said deductions out loud, bloody said anything?!

“Was it something I did?” John asked, feeling much like the object of his affections as he paced back and forth on the poor carpet of Mariana’s bedroom.

“Definitely not,” Mariana replied, idly flicking the Rubik's cube Sherlock had gotten her as a birthday present.

“And I’m not going crazy, right?”

“Of course not.”

“Like… something is definitely there? I’m not just convincing myself out of desperation?”

“Something is there, yes.”

“Then why hasn’t he said anything?!”

“Why haven’t you?”

John skidded to a stop, looking up to see his other best friend with an annoyingly knowing gotcha look on her face. “I–we’re…” he swallowed. “It’s different.”

“How?”

“Because he’s my best friend!“ John cried. “Our life is so comfortable – us and you and Archie and the podcast… I understand him so well. Too well. I’ve practically planned a future with him in my head, for fuck’s sake! I haven’t felt this way since Carrie! Or even…” he swallowed, leaving the words unspoken, but Mariana understood him just as well as Sherlock did by now based off the pity in her eyes. "I just... I can't risk it, Mari. I can't."

“You’re worried that actually acknowledging your feelings for one another will mess up the comfortable dynamic you have.” It wasn’t a question.

“Fuckin’ terrified,” John chuckled wetly. “My last longest and serious relationship got sick of me by the end of it. Were we too comfortable with each other, maybe? Is that why Carrie up and left me?”

“And you think Sherlock would… what, get bored of you too?”

“No.” A beat. “…Well, I mean–”

“John,” Mariana cut off, before John could fall into another downward spiral. ”Do you know what I see when I look at you two?”

“…Two blokes who you split the rent with-?”

“Love.” John’s mouth snapped shut. “In the way you care for each other, the way you talk to each other, hell, the way you look at each other. Love, it–it just oozes out the both of you. And actually addressing this love isn’t going to change anything. You’re still going to make his abomination of tea and marshmallows and boring tomato pasta, and he’s still going to listen to your incessant waffling about pop culture and football. Except now you’ll have both acknowledged this… thing between you two.

“Because you know Sherlock loves you already. Just like he knows you love him. And I know you–how did your mum put it? Think the world of your little gang? Well, Sherlock does the same. He wouldn’t still be here if that wasn’t the case. And he’ll never get bored of you, John; of the life we’ve created here. I promise you. Nothing will change.”

…Huh. As usual, Mariana was right.

“Ideally, there’d be more snogging, though.”

Mariana sighed, but her exhausted smile was fond, because from that line alone she knew she had finally gotten through John’s thick head. “Sure.”

And that leads us to now, in a hotel room in Oxford for a murder case, where John knew he loved Sherlock and knew Sherlock loved him too but neither knew exactly how to cross the line from friendship into lovers.

What he did currently know, however, was that Sherlock was frustrated and off his game in a way John hadn’t quite seen him be before. Something was bothering him, and had been over the past few days, considering his increasing agitation at everything and everyone around him, but John hadn't quite found the right timing to bring it up with him. Part of loving someone, as John understood it, was about understanding the other’s habits. Including some of the more… poorer ones. Of which Sherlock had many.

Like right now as he watched Sherlock pad over to the balcony of their hotel room, ear defenders at the ready around his neck, and an unlit cigarette dangling between his fingers. He huffed in fond amusement as Sherlock proceeded to pat his pockets to search for his lighter. John eventually decided to take pity on him before Sherlock’s frustration increased any further than it already had that day.

“You know I pack your bags, right?” John said, stepping out onto the balcony and joining him in leaning against the railing. Sherlock undoubtedly heard his footsteps approaching before even hearing him speak, but didn’t so much much as turn around. “Of course I wasn’t going to chuck in your lighter too. Nevermind that you apparently carry cigarettes on your person anyway.”

“I asked the concierge for one earlier when you weren’t looking,” Sherlock said, still not turning around to face John. “But I admit, the lighter escaping my mind is… troublesome. Especially after I missed the bloody murder weapon,” he bit out. With no lighter for his cigarette, he took to flicking the cigarette with his thumb to release some frustration.

John resisted the urge to sigh – Sherlock didn’t like making mistakes, and this one, according to his rant in the cab from the crime scene to the hotel, had apparently cost them valuable time they could’ve spent looking for the murderer. “People forget things or miss things all the time, mate.”

“Do I, though?” Sherlock asked, bitterly. “It was right there!”

“You’re only human, Sherlock,” John said earnestly. “Nobody expects you to be perfect all the time.”

“You do,” he said, and before John could even retort, he continued, “And Mariana. And the listeners.” He made a pointed look to the mic still attached to John’s collar, which he belatedly realised was still recording. “The only people not expecting that are the random inspectors we work with because, let’s face it, most of them are just waiting for me to mess up,” he hissed.

“It was in a locked drawer, nobody saw it–”

“A locked drawer that had traces of blood all over the handle and the keyhole? One I would’ve easily seen on any other day?!”

John let the silence hang in the air between them, not ready to entertain Sherlock’s thoughts. He chose not to point out that the bloodstains were barely there, knowing it wasn’t what he would want to hear. Because yeah, perhaps on a better day, Sherlock may have spotted it almost instantly. But John didn’t have a problem with that. He had a problem with the way Sherlock was beating himself up over it.

“You’re wrong, you know,” he finally said, circling back before Sherlock could spiral again.

“Oh, am I? Again?” Sherlock spat. John shot him a stern look, silently asking him to let him continue. He sighed but waved his hand in a carry on gesture.

“I don’t expect you to be perfect. And neither does Mariana. Because we both already know you’re not. Sometimes you jump too loudly to the point she can hear you from downstairs. You play the violin at ungodly hours, and half of your science experiments have rendered the kitchen table basically unusable.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration–”

“–My point is,” John spoke over Sherlock, “It’s okay to make mistakes. You’re still a brilliant man who found that key piece of evidence, regardless of how ‘late’ you found it, which is more that can be said for those useless inspectors standing around waiting for you to solve it because they knew they could never do it.” Sherlock remained silent, but judging by the small smile threatening to break his lips, John knew he had gotten through to him.

“I… suppose you’re right. Yes.”

Spurred on by this, John decided to bite the bullet. “Look… I know I just went on about how you don’t need to be perfect, but I do have to acknowledge that you haven’t exactly been yourself lately either. And I don't just mean with this case.” Sherlock’s gaze averted to the side and John knew he got him pinned. “What’s going on, Sherlock?”

Sherlock swallowed. “I suppose I’ve been distracted by… something, lately. Something that I can’t quite block out and has been seriously clouding my judgement.” At this, his eyes flickered back to John’s. And there it was. John didn’t need to be a master of observations to deduce that.

He felt the corner of his lips upturn in a light teasing smile. “I have a name, you know.”

Sherlock let out some sort of sigh. “Finally acknowledging it then, are we?”

“You did first.”

“I suppose I did.” Spurred by John’s evident lack of discomfort to the topic, he let himself have a small smile of his own. Utterly smitten by his handsome smile, John’s hand naturally found its way to cradle Sherlock's face, fingers tangling in his hair. Sherlock leaned into the touch (like a cat, John thought vaguely), his smile widening, and John just about swooned.

“I apologise for being so distracted by it,” Sherlock was saying, which was ironic, because John currently found himself distracted by the way the warm streetlight danced across his face. “I told myself I wouldn’t be.”

“Why are you apologising?” John murmured, rubbing his thumb against his cheek like he did all those months ago on the floor of their flat. “It’s great. You’re great.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes with a hint of fondness and amusement. “Wow. I fell for a man of many words.”

“Oh, hush, you,” John chided, dropping his hand to lightly bump his shoulder against Sherlock’s, his wide smile overpowering any real feelings of annoyance. Sherlock giggled – and wow, wasn’t that a sound John wanted to keep hearing for the rest of his life – and dropped his forehead onto John’s shoulder. He, again, knew this couldn’t possibly be a comfortable position for the taller man, but he just hoped Sherlock wouldn’t be able to hear just how loud his heart was beating.

“Just to be clear, John,” Sherlock began. “I don’t want anything to change between us. That’s why I was distracted by it, in all honesty. I was… figuring out how best to tell you without disrupting the comfortable routine we had built together.”

John blinked down at him in surprise. “Huh,” he said simply. “We really are more in sync than I thought.”

“What–”

“I’d been thinking the same thing,” John explained. “The, uh… worry about us changing and disturbing our dynamic and all that. Mariana was the one to snap me out of it, though. Gave me a real talking to.”

Sherlock chuckled. “I should thank Mariana, then.”

“Yes, you should.”

Sherlock straightened up to his full height, and John immediately missed the contact. “...You know, you still technically haven’t said it yet.”

John cleared his throat. “Said what?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “You know what.”

“You say it first, then!”

“I love you.”

John blinked in shock. Then blinked to fight back tears, because he couldn’t recall the last time someone had said that to him so easily. Most of his ex-partners, John felt, had said it out of obligation, because it was expected to be said at one point in a relationship. But the words came out of Sherlock like it was as natural as breathing. A simple, non-negotiable fact: the sky was blue. Sherlock loved John. And John loved him back.

Sherlock must’ve interpreted John’s extended silence and teary eyes as something else, because a frown formed on his face as he rushed to say, “You don’t have to say it back right now. My apologies, I shouldn’t have tried to force you–”

“I love you too,” John breathed. “God– so much, Sherls. Sorry if this is too much, but– if the rest of my life was just spent in that tiny flat doing nothing with you, I’d be the happiest man alive.”

Sherlock smiled, now his turn to cradle John’s face to catch any stray tears. “The sentiment is very much returned. But never apologise for being you. You’re never too much, John.”

John could’ve proposed to him right then and there. In a way, he essentially already had. But Sherlock deserved the best, so he would save that for another day.

Sherlock’s eyes flickered down and John’s breath hitched. And then Sherlock began shifting closer, the hand cupping his cheek dropping to rest on John’s chest. John felt himself leaning in too, eyes slipping shut as he prepared for…

Nothing?

John’s eyes flew open, jaw dropping in disbelief as Sherlock smirked, holding the microphone that was previously attached to John’s collar between his fingers.

“Wh– Sherlock!” John spluttered with a laugh, not finding it in himself to be truly annoyed by the misdirect. And also because Sherlock’s proud smirk was annoyingly attractive.

“What?” Sherlock said innocently. “You didn’t think I’d let the poor listeners get a snippet of that, would you? This is a family friendly podcast, my dear Watson!”

“Oh, shut up–!” John was still laughing even as Sherlock finally closed the gap between them, his long fingers curling around his waist. He faintly heard the microphone drop to the floor, but for once didn’t give a damn about it as he threw his arms around Sherlock’s neck. The kiss was far from perfect, with both of them barely fighting back wide smiles the whole time – but to be fair, neither were they.

[rainbow-journalist]

Tw: spoilers for sure

Hello! You can call me "The Chief", and I'm here to take a simple test!

Recently, I've started to have an obsession with the game Master Detective Archives: Rain code, and I've started drawing Makoto Kagutsuchi and Yuma Kokohead quite often, so I want to share, I want to see what you think, I evolved my style over time, because I try to find something that I like when I start drawing a character each time. My English is not the best because I use a translator, and my interpretation of the characters may be different from yours. Consider my drawings as alternate versions.

Immediate warning: I use easypose and pose bases, my drawings are bad, I use gacha, I make bad edits, I hope my stuff doesn't make you uncomfortable. There will be some suggestive drawings!! Game spoilers, of course, and there's a crossover games.

First drawing:

The first drawing I made of these two was a conversation with my friends on discord about: "why is Makoto's hair a different color?" My friends and I started discussing color theory, like, Yuma's hair looks like blue, and Makoto's looks like yellow.

Ignore the Brazilian text.

I love making him look angry, because I see him as a tsundere without his mask, and super suspicious of people, he only trusts Yuma. These first drawings, I was still looking for my style of how to draw his hair.

RAIN CODE / Undertale

Ok, I'm probably the only person making this comparison, let's get to the context:

I started to see Makoyuma as a Charisk 2.0 (Chara x Frisk, Undertale ship that I've always loved since I was 11 years old), And also, Chara = Makoto, and Frisk = Yuma is very good for me, Frisk is always interpreted as pacifist in the fandom, and Chara as genocide. I like to see Chara as a tsundere, my tsundere and mischievous Makoto is not cute ? I'm obsessed and it's your fault, guys. /j

The part there with Shuichi with Makoto and Yuma, is supposed to be a reference to KFC, Kris from Deltarune being interpreted as Chara and Frisk's older sibling, Charisk being seen as family is normal because Toriel adopts Frisk too, This part is more for those who like Makoyuma as a platonic and I'm fine with that, memes about siblings are always funny. Maybe I'll do more of this AU? I loved the concept of Chara!Makoto, Chara is my favorite character anyway.

Note: my age headcanon for Yuma being 23 may have changed.

I may like Makoyuma and be obsessed with them, but their other ships are good too, the other characters are interesting. (I also like Shinigami and Kurumi)

I saw a really good analysis about Izuru and Makoto being opposites of each other, so I made this drawing here, what do you guys think? Ignore Nagito being gay in the background.

ARGH, I don't know how to draw the floral pattern on Makoto's suit, I'm sorry.

I'm still going to post part two of this blog because it's not finished yet, Tumblr doesn't let me post any more photos, what a pain.

[luna1star10]

Master post

Ima prob not updating this

Edit:I have now. lol anyway, credits to @theriankelp for the banner

Secret art box

Never have I ever

First my friends

@bigb22374 (fav friend bc there the first one I ever meet on here, so don't judge me. You're still awesome)

@kitkatthekitkatkat

@jujubeatmeow

@chaotic-alien190

@fluffyyyfrog9000

@riseleon

@luckynesser

@w1ll0zfak3

@jayythemutant

@donnieslefteyebrow9000

@orangepawn39

@leilanising

@unjudgmentalnoob

@tmntclover

@razzerturtle

REQUEST:OPEN

Request are now open! For both art + outfits just send an ask!

For edits and requests, u need to send reference photos

I do role plays

What I draw are people,oc's, and rottmnt

My cats: 1 2

My name is Luna I am a MINOR I really like geting asks

My current hyper fixations are

• all tmnt related things

•Undertale

•TOH (The Owl House)

• and of course drawing

I won't post much art tho

Pls dni if:

-over 18

-proship/comship

-map/pedephile/Hebephiles/Ephebophiles

-terf

-groomer (not the pet kind)

-person who makes jokes about rape and s/a

skidibi toilet fans (i hate this fucking-Shit)

Zeophile/animal abuser

-racist/fatphobic

-homophobic/transphobic

-anti-furry/anti-therian

(leave them Alone)

-lolicon/shotacon

-or if you just bad person, i won't talk to you

anymore

pls message me if i follow someone bad

Also I do not want ask about the war I'm sorry that it's happening but I am a minor and have no money to give so please do not send me ask about helping you out I wish I could but as a minor I am unable to

Raph: 1 2

Mikey: 1 2

Leo: 1 2

Don: 1 2 3

All 4: 1

Lea: back story

[galvanizedfriend]

Klaroline WIP Wednesday

This is my humble contribution to this wip Weds! It's a tiny little snippert from the next chapter of Speed Dating, which has been sitting untouched for way too long. Genuinely hoping this might give me the will to keep going because I am this 🤏 close to the finish line (before editing starts and the finish line gets away from me again but shhhh, we're not going there yet).

--

She doesn't see Elijah again for the next two days. Whatever he's in town for, he either glides around the apartment like a ghost or their schedules are totally at odds. If not for the extravagantly fancy woolen overcoat by the door and what she has quickly learned is a very particular brand of moodiness for Klaus, she would've thought he'd already left.

It's probably for the best, considering the horror of that first meeting, but curiosity is an unscratchable itch. Elijah has intrigued her for years, more so than any of Klaus’ other siblings. Putting a face - well, a little more than a face, really - to the person is a given, but she can't help the desire to dig deeper. It’s in her nature to be nosy. About him, about Klaus, about the whole family. 

Despite the fact she's lived with one and been friends with another for years, the Mikaelsons remain a mystery to her. The more she knows, the more confusing it gets. Nothing about them seems to make much sense, and Caroline hasn't even decided if that's a super-rich, children of the 1% thing, or if the Mikaelsons are especially wacky even among their peers.

After two days, though, she's just about lost hope of bumping into Elijah again. She doubts he'll be staying for much longer, especially with Klaus' cordial show of hospitality. Not that Elijah seemed bothered - being rude to siblings for no apparent reason seems to be one of those things that are normal by Mikaelson standard. It's just how they operate.

She's just back from a shift at the hospital, idly scrolling through her Instagram while she waits for the microwave to deliver her sad leftover dinner. Bitterly, she realizes it has been months since she last updated her feed. Her last photo is with Tyler, for crying out loud. Should she even keep it there? What's the etiquette for when you break up with someone for no earth-shattering reasons, the relationship just fizzling out and running its course? Is it rude to delete all evidence of him from her social media records? Is it expected? Will he be upset? Has he deleted her from his social media? 

In fact, now that she thinks about it... Is Tyler even seeing anyone?

"Huh," she mumbles to herself, fully internalizing in that second how truly messy her life has become that she hasn't even cyber-stalked her ex to know what he's been up to since they broke up. That's a whole new level of rock bottom unlocked, right there.

"Miss Forbes?"

Caroline nearly drops her phone when she looks up to find Elijah standing by the kitchen door. She swears to God the man is unnaturally feline; she didn't even hear him approach.

Unlike in their first encounter, he's now fully clothed and, unsurprisingly, he looks just as good as he did without a stitch on. Maybe better. His suit looks as though it was sewn directly onto his body by an Italian master tailor. The range of that man.

"Hey!" She cringes at her high pitch, standing up straight. 

His smile is affable as he steps further into the kitchen. "Do I interrupt?"

"What? No. I was just scrolling."

Caroline feels suddenly very self-conscious of just how crazy frumpy she must look standing in front of Elijah. The man is a poster boy for wellness and prosperity, while she is... Well. Not.

Suffice to say she's wearing a Timberwolves t-shirt from her long-gone cheerleading days in high school with at least five visible holes on it.

"I've been meaning to apologize for that horrid incident the other day," he starts. Caroline wouldn’t have brought the incident up, assuming he would rather forget it ever happened, but if it causes him any measure of discomfort to have been butt naked in front of a complete stranger, he does not show, which - now that she thinks about, is something else that feels very Mikaelson-esque. They do all seem to be incredibly comfy in their own skins. "Niklaus warned me that you would be home soon, but my despair for a proper shower was stronger than caution. I should've been more careful."

"You don't have to apologize. It's fine. It was nothing." That would've been a good place to stop. A very mature and dignified let's leave it at that and never mention it again. But her stupid mouth just keeps going. "I see naked people all the time at the hospital. It's totally unremarkable." Elijah's eyebrows inch upwards into a mildly curious expression. "I don't mean that you are unremarkable!" she corrects, and then, getting immediately horrified at the implications, adds, "You're not - I mean, you're ok, you're - obviously. Not that I was looking, I wasn’t - I just mean - You know what? I'm just gonna shut up now." She snaps her lips sealed, half-wishing that a hole would open underneath her feet and suck her into the magma of the earth.

[gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat]

Group F, Round 3, Poll 4:

Propaganda under the cut

Tsurumi Tokushirou

in two words: "it's love". I was already insane about this guy but this line. just wow. the context is a flashback in which Tsurumi has been away fighting in the Sino-Japanese war and is now telling his dojo master that even trained soldiers are typically reluctant to kill another person and many will only pretend to fire their weapons. he spent a long time considering how you convince them to overcome that before figuring it out. "the motivating force that can bring out the aggressiveness in your soldiers... it isn't hatred of the enemy troops, nor is it fear... it isn't even a difference in political ideals. [what is it then?] it's love". this man is *surrounded* by soldiers who will do anything for him and you slowly see through multiple flashbacks just how much he has been pulling strings for *years* to make them love him. this particular flashback involves two fourteen year olds fighting over his attention until one of them kills the other and tsurumi helps cover up the murder and tells the murderer how *of course you have always been my favourite*. that kid goes on to work under him and when tsurumi draws on his face as a punishment he gets the drawings tattooed on so they stay forever. in another case he orchestrates the kidnapping of a different 14yo son of a navy commander by "Russians" (his loyal subordinates) and then pulls off a dashing rescue, earning the livelong military support of the dad and a major crush from the son. this kid chooses to go to army route rather than follow his dad into the navy, specifically because of tsurumi who he also ends up working for. he can't speak comprehensibly to tsurumi and edits himself into photos of him. case 3: while a soldier is away at war he crush appears to commit suicide by drowning in the sea. upon finding out that his dad told her he wasn't coming back, he beats him to death and ends up on death row. I forget exactly what info is revealed when but a) the woman is alive and tsurumi helped her move to Tokyo and get married, b) tsurumi planted fake bones under tsukishima's father's house to frame him for her murder, c) this then allowed tsukishima to be freed from jail, as long as he agreed to work for tsurumi as a Russian translator (he doesn't speak Russian at the time), d) tsukishima doesn't know all of this initially but tsurumi sets things up so he overhears a convo that reveals some of it so that he can know exactly what lengths tsurumi went to and feel even more in his debt, e) tsukishima later realises that conversation was set up and its purpose but *even with that knowledge* and being probably the character most aware of Tsurumi's manipulations, the pull is too strong and he will follow him to the ends of the earth. literally his only goal in life now is to have front row seats to the Tsurumi Theatre, which btw involves chasing convicts around to obtain their skins, wiping out entire prison populations and invading parts of Russia. he sometimes blames his erratic actions on the brain damage caused by a mortar shell to the forehead but he was doing all the same things before that, just more quietly. he knows *exactly* what he's doing and has everything planned out in detail

that post by @temp-propaganda because no way I can fit that all in propaganda section

Goncharov

He spends the entire film lying to and manipulating as many people as possible to achieve his ultimate goal (Katya is an obvious example; her having enough of that is a driving force behind their breaking relationship), and also including himself (insisting that he doesn't like Andrey when they're basically about to kiss anytime they're on screen). Also Gaslight Gatekeep Goncharov amiright

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Kitchensink callithump linkdump

On July 14, I'm giving the closing keynote for the fifteenth HACKERS ON PLANET EARTH, in QUEENS, NY. Happy Bastille Day! On July 20, I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

With just days to go before my summer vacation, I find myself once again with a backlog of links that I didn't squeeze into the blog, and no hope of clearing them before I disappear into a hammock for two weeks, so it's time for my 21st linkdump – here's the other 20:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

I'm going to start off this week's 'dump with a little bragging, because it's my newsletter, after all. First up: a book! Yes, I write a lot of books, but what I'm talking about here is a physical book, a limited edition of ten, that I commissioned from three brilliant craftspeople.

Back in March 2023, I launched a Kickstarter to pre-sell the audiobook of Red Team Blues, the first novel in my new Martin Hench series, about a forensic accountant who specializes in unwinding tech bros' finance frauds:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865847/red-team-blues

One of the rewards for that campaign was a very special hardcover: a handmade, leather-bound edition of Red Team Blues, typeset by the typography legend John D. Berry:

https://johndberry.com/

Bound by the legendary book-artist John DeMerritt:

https://www.demerrittstudios.com/

And printed by the master printer JaVae Berry:

https://www.jgraphicssf.com/

But this wasn't a merely beautiful, well made book – it had a gimmick. You see, I had already completed the first draft of The Bezzle, the second Hench novel, by the time I launched the Kickstarter for Red Team Blues. I had John Berry lay out a tiny edition of that early draft as a quarter-sized book, and then John DeMerritt hand-bound it in card.

The reason that edition of The Bezzle had to be so small was that it was designed to slip into a hollow cavity in the hardcover, a cavity that John Berry had designed the type around, so that both books could be read and enjoyed.

I offered three of these for sale through the Kickstarter, and the three backers were very patient as the team went back and forth on the book, getting everything perfect. Last month, I took delivery of the books: three for my backers, one each for John DeMerritt and John Berry's personal archives, one for me, and a few more that I'm going to surprise some very special people with this Christmas.

Look, I had high hopes for this book. I dote on beautiful books, my house is busting with them, and I used to work at a new/used science fiction store where we had a small but heartstoppingly great rare book selection. But these books are fucking astounding. Every time I handle mine, my heart races. These are beautiful things, and I just want to show them to everyone:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/albums/72177720318331731/

As it happens, the next thing I'm going to do (after I finish this newsletter) is turn in the copyedited manuscript for the third Hench novel, Picks and Shovels, which comes out in Feb 2025 (luckily, I had enough time to review the edits myself, then turn it over to my mom, who has proofed every book I've written and always catches typos that everyone else misses, including some real howlers – thanks Mom!):

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865908/picksandshovels

Of course, the majority of people who enjoy my books do not end up with one of these beautiful hardcovers – indeed, many of you consume my work exclusively as electronic media: ebooks and (of course) audiobooks. I love audiobooks and the audio editions of my books are very good, with narrators like Amber Benson, Wil Wheaton, and Neil Gaiman.

But here's the thing: Audible refuses to carry my books, because they are DRM-free (which means that they aren't locked to Audible's approved players – you can play my audiobooks with any audiobook player). Audible has a no-exceptions, iron-clad rule that every book they sell must be permanently locked into their platform, which means that Audible customers can't ditch their Audible software without losing their libraries – all the books they purchased:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/25/can-you-hear-me-now/#acx-ripoff

Being excluded from Audible takes a huge bite out of my income – after all, they're a monopolist with a 90% market share. That's why I'm so grateful for indie audiobook stores that carry my books on equitable terms that Audible denies – stores like Libro.fm, Downpour and even Google Books.

This week, I discovered a new, amazing indie audiobook store called Storyfair, where the books are DRM-free and the authors get a 75% royalty on every sale:

https://storyfair.net/helpstoryfairgrow/

Storyfair is a labor of love created by a married couple who were sickened and furious by the way that Audible screws authors and listeners and decided to do something about it. Naturally, I uploaded my whole catalog to the site so they could sell it:

https://storyfair.net/search-for-audiobooks/?keyword=cory+doctorow&filter=any

These books are DRM-free, which means that no matter who you buy them from, you can play them in the same player as your other DRM-free audiobooks. You know how you can read all your books under the same lamp, sitting in the same chair, and then put them in the same bookcase when you're done with them? It's weird – outrageous even! – that tech companies think that buying a book from them means that they should have the legal right to force you to read or listen to it using their technology exclusively.

If you let your Storyfair audiobooks touch your Libro.fm audiobooks, they won't get cooties! Audible is like a toddler that won't let their broccoli touch their peas – only that toddler is also a rapacious monopolist that keeps 75% of every sale.

The fight for fair audiobooks is one of those places where the different parts of my professional life cross over: activism, digital media, art, writing the web, and breaking down complex technical subjects for a mass audience. I've just signed up to a six-year project to combine all those facets in a structured way, in collaboration with Cornell University.

Cornell just named me as their latest AD White Professor-at-Large. This is a six-year appointment that involves a series of week-long visits to Ithaca to lecture, run seminars, meet with colleagues, collaborate on research, and do community performances:

https://adwhiteprofessors.cornell.edu/

We've tentatively scheduled my first visit for early September 2025, to coincide with the Ithaca Book Festival, and we've got big plans, roping in multiple departments at Cornell, the local alternative school and local colleges, doing talks at the fair as well as at the university, and (we hope!) squeezing in a stop in NYC on the way home for a day at Cornell Tech. I'm so excited (and honored) to be working with Cornell (and getting a chance to visit Moosewood Restaurant, whose cookbooks taught me how to cook!). Watch this space.

Authorship has always been a political act, but never moreso than today, with waves of book-bans sweeping the country. One of the heroes of those bans is Maggie Tokuda-Hall, who made headlines when she publicly excoriated Scholastic for demanding that she remove references to racism from her kids' books in order to make them more palatable to reactionaries:

https://www.npr.org/2023/04/15/1169848627/scholastic-childrens-book-racism

Tokuda-Hall has stepped up the fight, co-founding Authors Against Book Bans, an org that provides training and support for author/activists so they can fight back against book bans at library board and city council meetings:

https://www.authorsagainstbookbans.com/

Authors Against Book bans is looking for members! I signed up last week, within seconds of having Tokuda-Hall give me the pitch when we ran into each other in Oakland at the Locus Awards. Are you an author? Sign up too! They're especially interested in branching out beyond YA and kids' authors (though they want those kinds of writers, too!).

Book bans affect us all. Even if you personally are never stymied when you visit your library and discover the book that you want to read has been removed by a swivel-eyed loon with terminal groomer-panic. The bans sweeping our country mean that our neighbors and loved ones are being denied literature by these cranks. There are people in your life who are losing out on the possibility of a life-changing literary adventure (which is why the far right hates these books – they want to be sure no one encounters the ideas between their covers).

The realization that you have to live in a society with people who are harmed by injustice, even if you personally escape that justice? It's the whole basis for solidarity.

Americans are living through a multigenerational project of stamping out solidarity and insisting that we only ever view ourselves as individuals, with no stake in the plights of our neighbors. That's how the US got the most expensive, least effective health care system in the world. And even if you are in the vanishingly tiny minority of Americans who are happy with their health care, you live amongst people who are being killed by the system around you.

The health system is a perfect example of how monopolization drives more monopolization, and how that comes to harm the public and workers. Health consolidation began with pharma mergers, that led to pharma companies gouging hospitals. Hospitals, in turn, engaged in a nonstop orgy of mergers, which created regional monopolies that could resist the pricing power of monopoly pharma – and screw insurers. That kicked off consolidation in insurance, which is why most Americans have a "choice" of between one and three private insurers – and why health workers' monopoly employers have eroded their wages and working conditions.

A new study in American Economic Review: Insights puts some quantitative spine in this tale, tracking the relationship between hospital mergers and skyrocketed health-care prices:

https://harris.uchicago.edu/news-events/news/consolidation-hospital-sector-leading-higher-health-care-costs-study-finds?itid=lk_inline_enhanced-template

The researchers investigated 1,164 acute-care hospital mergers, finding that while the FTC only challenged 1% of these, they could – and should – have challenged 20% of them, based on the agency's own criteria for merger scrutiny. The researchers blame the rising costs of hospital care directly on these mergers, and point out that Congress has historically starved the FTC of the budget it needed to investigate these mergers. The annual additional costs to the American people from these mergers exceed the entire annual budget of the FTC.

It's not just hospitals: the entire investor class is hell-bent on spending their way to monopoly. Nowhere is that more true than in AI, where hundreds of billions are being poured into bids to attain permanent dominance through scale. Writing for their excellent AI Snake Oil newsletter, Arvind Narayanan and Sayash Kapoor inject some realism into the AI scale hype:

https://www.aisnakeoil.com/p/ai-scaling-myths

Narayanan and Kapoor challenge the idea that throwing more data at large language models will make the better: "With LLMs, we may have a couple of orders of magnitude of scaling left, or we may already be done." They are skeptical that this can be fixed with synthetic data (whose use is limited to "fixing specific gaps and making domain-specific improvements"). They also point out that if returns from data slow, then returns from adding more compute or making bigger models might also be throttled.

They reserve their most skeptical take for "AGI" – the idea that LLMs are going to achieve consciousness. This is a fundamentally unserious idea, one that they unpack in detail in their forthcoming book:

https://press.princeton.edu/books/hardcover/9780691249131/ai-snake-oil

One thing I'm hoping for from the book is some analysis of the material usefulness of AI hype – what purpose does the hype serve? I mean, obviously, hype is useful if you're looking to suck up investor capital, or flip an investment to a greater fool. But there's a specific character to AI hype: namely, the claim that AI will displace labor, which is really a claim that a bet on AI is a bet on the increasing wealth of capital at labor's expense.

In other words, AI is a bet on oligarchy. In America, that's a pretty safe bet, and the odds just got even better, thanks to a string of brutal Supreme Court decisions that legalized bribery, banned most regulatory enforcement, and made being alive and unhoused into a crime (Poor Laws 2.0):

https://prospect.org/justice/2024-06-29-whos-gonna-check-supreme-court-chevron-separation-powers/

But amidst all those gimmes to the rich and powerful, there was one notable exception: the SCOTUS ruling on the Purdue Pharma bankruptcy. Purdue was the family business of the Sacklers, a multigenerational dope-peddling dynasty that went from super-rich to stratospherically rich by kickstarting the opioid epidemic with their blockbuster drug Oxycontin.

The Sacklers sold mountains of Oxy the old fashioned way: by lying. The lied about its efficacy and they lied about its safety, and they helped kill hundreds of thousands of Americans. Eventually, this caught up with them, and Purdue lost a bunch of court cases and was forced into bankruptcy.

That's where things get gnarly: the Sacklers took the already-sleazy world of elite bankruptcy to a whole new level, with a set of breathtakingly sleazy maneuvers that ensured that their case would be heard by the one judge in America who would let them off the hook:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/11/justice-delayed/#justice-redeemed

That judge was Robert Drain and the Sacklers were the blow-off to a long and shameful career in public "service." The Sacklers incorporated a subsidiary in White Plains, NY (in Drain's turf) precisely 181 days before filing for bankruptcy, then claimed that this empty small-town office had been the company HQ for more than six months. Then they hid machine-readable metadata in their filing that tricked the court's database into assigning the case to Drain:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/07/hr-4193/#shoppers-choice

The reason the Sacklers were so horny for Drain? He was a notoriously generous source of "nonconsensual third-party releases." These would allow the Sacklers to permanently end every lawsuit against them without having to declare bankruptcy. Instead, they could take their (ruined, hollow) company through bankruptcy, throw a small fraction of their personal fortunes into the pot, representing fractional pennies on the dollar of what they owed to their victims, and walk away with tens of billions and eternal protection from any future suits.

In other words, they could stiff their creditors and keep the loot. Which is exactly what Robert Drain gave them – before retiring from the bench to get a two-orders-of-magnitude pay raise at a white-shoe firm that specializes in representing corporate mass-murderers like the Sacklers.

That's where it would have ended, but for a surprising ruling from the Supreme Court, which threw out the nonconsensual third-party release deal and put the Sacklers back on the hook to pay the victims of their many, many crimes.

As ever, the best source of analysis and explanation for elite bankruptcy shenanigans is Adam Levitin of the Credit Slips blog:

https://www.creditslips.org/creditslips/2024/06/purdue-pharma-decision-a-big-win-for-mass-tort-victims.html

Levitin has a prediction for what's going to happen next. He rejects the predictions of Sackler apologists, who say that this is going to add years or decades to the already too-long wait for compensation that the Sacklers' victims have endured. Instead, Levitin says that the Sacklers will almost certainly transfer billions more from their personal fortunes to the settlement pot and beg for consensual releases from their victims. In other words, they'll go from dictating terms to asking for them.

So the settlement will stand, but it will be larger, and victims who don't want to take it won't have to – they'll be able to sue. In other words, this ruling "does not prevent deals in bankruptcy. It just changes the terms of what those deals."

This has implications for other mass-murderers and corporate criminals, like Johnson and Johnson (who tricked women into dusting their vulvas with asbestos):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/01/j-and-j-jk/#risible-gambit

And the Boy Scouts of America, who let pedophiles abuse children for decades:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/05/third-party-nonconsensual-releases/#au-recherche-du-pedos-perdue

Both J&J and BSA carved out nonconsensual third-party releases in the mold of the Sacklers' deal, and both briefed the Supreme Court, warning that if the Sacklers were forced to pay what they owed, J&J and BSA's victims would also be entitled to far larger sums. Go ahead and threaten us with a good time, why doncha?

The Sackler decision is a real bright spot at a dark time for corporate impunity. It's always nice to see big corporate bullies getting a bit of a comeuppance. Another one of those comeuppances was just delivered thanks to a classic fatfinger error.

A Microsoft engineer accidentally released the sourcecode to Playready, the company's flagship DRM product:

https://borncity.com/win/2024/06/26/microsoft-employee-accidentally-publishes-playready-code/

Microsoft's DRM doesn't do anything to protect the interests of creative workers or even the companies that employ them. As a Microsoft rep admitted on stage at a presentation in 2006, the purpose of Microsoft DRM is to prevent small startups from entering the market, ensuring that Microsoft and its "rivals" can safely divide up the world without worrying about disruptive competitors:

https://memex.craphound.com/2006/01/30/msft-our-drm-licensing-is-there-to-eliminate-hobbyists-and-little-guys/

I was there that day and reported on the remarks, prompting both Microsoft and its rep to furiously deny that they'd ever said this, despite multiple witnesses who heard it. This was just a couple years after I gave a viral talk at Microsoft about why the company shouldn't use DRM:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/18/greetings-fellow-pirates/#arrrrrrrrrr

By 2006, it was clear that the company was all in on DRM, and today, DRM is the centerpiece of Microsoft's anticompetitive strategy, and Playready is the centerpiece of Microsoft's DRM. The source-code leak is doubtless going to give rise to lots of grey-market tools for stripping DRM from all kinds of media:

https://security-explorations.com/microsoft-playready.html

You love to see it! Now I'm doubly looking forward to this summer's security conferences, including Defcon, where, for the first time, I'll be emceeing the charity poker tournament to benefit EFF:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2024/06/betting-your-digital-rights-eff-benefit-poker-tournament-def-con-32

This should be very fun – and funny – especially given how little I know about poker (I have been specifically selected on that basis, for the comedy value). Every player gets a custom EFF poker-deck, and the winner gets a treasure chest filled by EFF board member Tarah Wheeler, including "emeralds, black pearls, amethysts, diamonds, and more."

I like to close these linkdumps with something fun and uplifting, and I'd planned to end things with the poker-tournament, but then my pal Raph Koster announced that his game studio Playable Worlds had dropped its first announcement of Stars Reach, an open-world MMO like no other:

https://www.raphkoster.com/2024/06/28/announcing-stars-reach/

Raph is a legend in MMO design circles, whose credits include Ultima Online and Star Wars Galaxies. He wrote the definitive text on how games work, A Theory of Fun, that's does for games what Understanding Comics did for comics:

https://www.theoryoffun.com/

Stars Reach is stupidly ambitious. It consists of truly open worlds, modeled to an absurd degree of fidelity:

We know the temperature, the humidity, the materials, for every cubic meter of every planet. Our water actually flows downhill and puddles. It freezes overnight or during the winter. It evaporates and turns to steam when heated up. And not just our water — everything does this. Catch a tree on fire with a stray blaster bolt. Melt your way through a glacier to find a hidden alien laboratory embedded in the ice. Stomp too hard on a rock bridge, and watch out, it might collapse under your feet. Dam up a river to irrigate your farm. Or float in space above an asteroid, and mine crystals from its depths.

The game is fundamentally a climate story, whose lore has humanity seeded around the galaxy by a powerful alien race called the Old Ones, only to have humans bust through the planetary limits of every world they were given. Now the Old Ones are giving humans another chance to try smarter ways of sustaining ourselves on new worlds, with the aid of powerful robots call "Servitors."

Because this is a Raph Koster game, it's got a bunch of extremely satisfying play dynamics:

A classless skill tree advancement system, where peaceful play matters just as much as combat

An intricate player-driven economy where players can craft their way to fame and fortune

An accessible yet deep combat system, where you can choose whether to play using action aiming or more forgiving homing shots or lock-on targeting

In-world player housing that lets you build and customize your home and form towns… and enough room for everyone to have a house

A single shardless galaxy, with both space and ground gameplay… in fact, you can build that house on an asteroid, if you want

The ability for a group to govern a planet, and define its laws, whether you want a peaceful home or a PvP free for all

Stars Reach is not playable yet, but the company's looking for gamers to give them feedback and steer the development:

https://starsreach.com/

OK, that wraps up the week's links. I'm gonna get one more edition out on Monday, god willin' and the crick don't rise, and then I'll be off for a couple weeks. Enjoy your summer!

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

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/2024/06/29/pasticcio/#professor-at-large

Image: James St John https://flickr.com/photos/47445767@N05/40894047123

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en