#Currently making an OC based on this idea

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello Miss Raven! Hope your day been good (:

(Or gonna be or is, who knows! Hope it’s good anyways)

I’ve been doing mischief known as creating a twst OC, he’s fae and at the moment of doing his age I understood that I have no idea how old they should be to be able to enroll at college!

The only full fae is Malleus(Lilia enrolled muuuch later so ain’t counting him, obviously) which means I can use him as a base, so I’d like to know if there any information that he enrolled the moment he got invitation or not?

I have a strong feeling that I saw some info on that, but I’m not his biggest fan (God I hate him), so my mind not really holding onto that, apologies for silly question, if what!

Hihi ^^ My day's been good! I had a really good bagel with cucumber dill cream cheese spread... Green for Diasomnia?/j

I know NRC is called a college, but it's called a technical school by Yana and has students of about high school to early college age, or 19-20ish by fourth year. I don't think we have official confirmation that Malleus enrolled as soon as he got his invitation (that's a very specific detail), but I think we can safely assume he did based on surrounding circumstances. Firstly, we're never told anything to the contrary, and most students enrolled via normal means (if there were any abnormal means, they were usually pointed out to us by now; this would include things like Leona enrolling one year late, Lilia showing up 500 years late, and Kalim transferring in 2 months into the school year). Secondly, this timing makes sense with the time of Lilia's enrollment; he and Malleus would be going to NRC at the same time so that Lilia can serve as his mentor, guardian, and social support. It also lines up with Sebek expressing frustration that Malleus, Lilia, and Silver are at NRC, but he has not yet enrolled (which leads to development of his UM, Living Bolt). If Malleus had been at NRC for much, much longer than 3 years, it's strange that he was allowed to just... be on this remote island by himself, without any retainers. With that in mind, I think that the expected age for fae to enroll in a technical school like NRC... would vary. This is because different kinds of fae have different life spans. For example, bat fae like Lilia are expected to live around 1000 years maximum--but for dragon fae like Malleus, 1000 years is only considered the beginning of adulthood; dragon fae live for FAR longer than 1000 years.

Another thing to consider is that fae aging metrics do not translate well into human aging metrics. For example, Lilia states in book 7 that dragon fae are still considered hatchings at 200 years old, teenagers at 500, and adults at 1000. But we also learn in book 7 that Malleus is exactly 178 years old currently. That's under 200 years old, meaning that, by dragon fae standards, Malleus is still considered essentially an infant...? Yet it's still somehow possible for him to enroll at what is essentially a high school (by human standards).

Crowley states multiple times in book 7 that so long as someone appears with an invitation and is willing to learn, NRC will accept them. In earlier versions of Twst, I believe it was even proposed that Idia (a non-fae) would be a child genius and the youngest student ever at NRC. So really, I don't think it matters that much what age a fae OC "should" be at in order for them to enroll.

Before I sign off, I'd like to kindly remind everyone that while I'm fine with people expressing their opinions, I ask that we be mindful while sharing them! If it's not relevant to the ask, then do not say you "hate" a character. It comes out of left field and is a needless shock, particularly to fans of that character. If you feel you must include it, kindly watch your tone and wording! Think about how you would feel if someone randomly proclaimed, "God, I hate [insert your favorite Twst character here]" (even if it is struck out, the sentiment is still there) in an ask that is otherwise about getting writing advice or canon lore. Doesn't feel good, does it? Just "I'm not [Malleus's] biggest fan" would have been sufficient. We don't need to take it an extra step further, especially seeing as the ask itself was not Malleus-centric character critique. Thank you!!

[aeniiverse]

HELLO?

Synopsis — Y/N, a bubbly and optimistic new student, finds herself captivated by the enigmatic Ningning, a girl known for her aloofness and tough exterior. Initially, Ningning helps Y/N navigate the school, but what begins as a reluctant friendship soon evolves into something deeper. Despite Ningning’s attempts to maintain her distance, Y/N’s infectious warmth and constant presence begin to break down her walls, leading to subtle, soft moments of care and protection.

contains — fluff, angst, grumpy (Ningning) x sunshine (y/n), sunshine x sunshine protector in the end, bit of possessive Ning (but in a good and non-toxic way), y/n has an obsession with juice boxes, oc’s (jisung), mention of ive’s Yujin, ending is written in third person pov, avoiding and pulling away at some point, y/n is just a ray of sunshine

WORD COUNT — 14.5k

A/N — okay so was listening to a laufey song and that’s when I came up with this idea, the title is based of the song hello by clairo which in a way relates to the story esp the “are you into me? Like I’m into you part” ye idk if you get it 😝

You were not lost. You were just… directionally adventurous.

That’s what you told yourself, confidently sipping from a juice box and squinting at the crumpled school map that someone had handed you at orientation printed in grayscale, covered in tiny fonts, and currently held upside down. Which, okay, fine. You were lost. But it was the first day! You were a freshman! Lost freshmen were a natural part of the academic ecosystem!

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like anyone around here agreed.

“Excuse me—hi? Sorry, quick question—oh. Okay.” You watched the back of someone’s head disappear down the hallway. That was the third person to speed-walk away from you like you were asking for their social security number instead of directions to the science wing.

Honestly, what was with this school? Was everyone trained to avoid eye contact like it was a full-contact sport?

You turned a corner and immediately hit a dead end. Great. Wonderful. Maybe you’d graduate here, like, in the hallway. You’d just set up camp next to the water fountain and host office hours for other lost souls.

You took a long, dramatic sip of your juice box.

Then you saw her.

Leaning against a windowsill at the end of the corridor, earbuds in, one leg bent and pressed to the glass, was a girl who looked like she belonged on the cover of a moody indie album. Dark jacket, headphones oversized enough to block out both sound and social interaction. Her expression was blank no, blank was too neutral. She looked done. With what? Life. School. Probably people like you.

Someone else might have taken that as a sign to back off.

You were not someone else.

“Hi!” you chirped, striding toward her with zero hesitation. “You look like you know stuff. Can you help me not die here?”

The reaction was instant.

Every single person in the hallway either stopped moving or pretended they weren’t definitely listening. A group of upperclassmen at the lockers froze mid-laugh. Even the guy who had been swiping through his phone paused with his thumb in the air.

Because Ningning had looked up.

She slowly tugged out one earbud. Her gaze swept over you from head to toe the juice box, the backward map, the wildly optimistic grin plastered on your face.

Then she blinked. And for a full, dragging beat, you thought she might just stand up and walk away.

But instead…

“You’re holding the map upside down.”

It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t polite. But it was a response.

You gasped like she’d handed you a Nobel Prize. “Oh my god, that makes so much sense! I thought this hallway was a portal or something.”

“…A portal.”

“To, like, another dimension. A science lab purgatory. I don’t know. I panicked.”

She stared at you.

You beamed back, unfazed.

For a second, you thought you saw something twitch at the corner of her lips. A shadow of a smile. Maybe.

“This is Building C,” she said, tugging her other earbud out. “You’re supposed to be in Building A if you’re looking for Chem.”

You gasped again. “You know where Chem is? You’re my hero.”

“I didn’t say I was taking you there.”

“You didn’t not say it, either,” you pointed out helpfully. “Which means there’s a chance.”

Another long, slow blink. This girl had perfected the art of judgmental silence.

You took another sip of your juice. “Anyway, I’m Y/N. Freshman. Chronic over-sharer. Kind of dying a little. What’s your name?”

More silence. She looked like she was debating whether to entertain this or yeet herself out the window.

“…Ningning.”

You nearly dropped your juice. “Wait the Ningning? The one who everyone says never talks to people? The one who supposedly made a senior cry last year just by looking at him?”

“That was an exaggeration.”

“Which part? That it was a senior or that you made him cry?”

Ningning didn’t answer. But her eyes flicked sideways like she was trying not to smile.

“Okay, okay, no more questions. I can feel your tolerance dropping by the second. But can I just say one last thing?”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You have really great hair. Like, intimidatingly great.”

At that, she actually laughed, quiet and quick, like it escaped before she could stop it. She looked vaguely horrified after, like the sound had betrayed her.

You blinked. “Was that… did you just—?”

“No,” she said instantly, face deadpan again.

“Liar,” you grinned.

Ningning sighed. Then grudgingly, like she was fighting every instinct in her body she pushed off the windowsill.

“I’ll walk you to Chem,” she said.

You lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really?! You’re my new favorite person.”

“I’m not doing this every day.”

“Sure, sure. You say that now. But wait till I win you over with friendship bracelets and spontaneous karaoke.”

She gave you a look. “Absolutely not.”

“Too late,” you sing-songed as you followed her down the hallway. “You smiled. You’re stuck with me now.”

And just like that, the hallway still half-frozen in collective shock watched Ningning, the untouchable, walk away with the loudest, weirdest freshman clinging to her side like she’d done it a thousand times before.

She didn’t say a word the rest of the way.

But she also didn’t put her earbuds back in.

Homeroom had never felt so dramatic.

Maybe it was because the classroom was unusually quiet, or maybe it was because everyone seemed to be watching your every move like they expected you to spontaneously combust. You weren’t sure why the simple act of sitting down next to someone had suddenly become a spectator sport. You hadn’t even done anything yet. All you’d done was walk in, check the seating chart, and make your way toward the desk at the back corner the one with the best view of the windows and the worst reputation in the entire room.

Because that was her seat.

And today, the new kid you had been assigned to sit beside her.

You heard the whispers before you even got there.

“No one talks to her.”

“She made a TA cry last semester.”

“She hasn’t had a desk partner since middle school.”

“She probably requested it that way.”

You, of course, just waved and dropped into the seat like it wasn’t allegedly cursed. Your backpack thudded onto the floor, your pencil case zipped open with way too much enthusiasm, and your juice box (yes, another one) landed on the desk with a cheery slap.

“Morning!” you beamed at Ningning, who sat perfectly still with her chin propped on one hand, eyes flicking to you like you were a particularly loud and sparkly fly.

She didn’t say anything.

“You have really pretty hair,” you tried again, unbothered by the wall of silence. “Like, scary pretty. I’d pay actual money to get those waves. Is it natural? Wait, don’t answer. That’s probably weird. Sorry, I tend to overshare. It’s a thing.”

Still nothing.

You unwrapped your pencil and kept talking anyway. “I have a cat named Waffles. He has one functioning brain cell and absolutely no survival instincts. Last week, he tried to eat a sock. A whole sock.”

A beat of silence.

Then very faint, almost invisible the corner of Ningning’s mouth twitched.

You saw it. You definitely saw it.

“I put a bowtie on him for his birthday,” you added casually, fighting a grin. “It was red. He hated it. Tried to fight it. Lost.”

Another twitch. This one lasted a little longer.

You were winning. You had no idea what the prize was, but you were absolutely winning.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the class president whispering something to a friend, both of them wide-eyed and frozen like they were watching someone juggle flaming knives.

You turned slightly and whispered, “Are they always like this?”

Ningning finally moved. She turned just enough to glance at the rest of the class, then looked back at you and said, flatly, “They’re waiting to see if you survive first period.”

You blinked. “Huh. That’s kinda flattering. It’s like being the main character of a horror movie. Do I get theme music?”

“No,” she said.

You hummed thoughtfully. “Bummer.”

The class finally turned their attention back to the teacher when attendance started, but the atmosphere stayed tense, like everyone expected you to spontaneously burst into tears or catch fire from sitting too close to her. Ningning didn’t say anything else, but you noticed the way her pen kept tapping against her notebook in a steady rhythm. You wondered if she always did that, or if it was a new thing.

It didn’t bother you. You liked noise.

What did bother you, weirdly enough, was the way her desk looked… empty. Like it had never really been used.

There were no little stickers on the corner. No scuffs from someone resting their elbows there all year. No tiny doodles or pen scratches. Just perfect, untouched wood.

Your desk already had your initials carved into the bottom right corner. You’d done it with a mechanical pencil while zoning out.

When the teacher passed out forms, you scooted a little closer to look at Ningning’s paper, pretending you couldn’t find your own. “Oh no, am I illiterate and lost? Double threat.”

She didn’t say anything, but her hand slid your form toward you without looking.

You smiled. “You’re really nice under all that scary energy, you know?”

Ningning gave you a blank look, but her ears turned the faintest shade of pink.

You didn’t say anything about it. You just sipped your juice and started filling in your name.

The rest of homeroom passed in a weirdly calm blur. Maybe it was because the other students gave up waiting for drama, or maybe it was because Ningning didn’t actually seem as terrifying when she wasn’t ignoring you. She didn’t talk much, okay, at all but every time you said something, she listened. She didn’t zone out or roll her eyes. She just… watched. Like she was trying to figure you out.

Like she didn’t mind the noise.

The bell rang, and students started packing up. You leaned back with a stretch. “Whew. Survived homeroom. Zero fatalities. Unless you count my GPA. Which I do.”

Ningning stood up, swinging her bag over her shoulder. She didn’t look at you when she said, “You talk a lot.”

“Yup,” you agreed brightly. “But I’m fun.”

She paused. Then, so quiet you almost missed it, she muttered, “You’re not annoying.”

You stared at her. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“It is now.”

And for a moment, just a split second, Ningning smiled. Real and small and crooked. The kind of smile that looked like it didn’t know how to exist yet.

Your chest ached a little. Just a little.

Because Ningning looked like someone who was used to silence. Like someone who’d made a home out of being alone. Like someone whose desk had been empty for a long time not just physically, but quietly, deeply empty in a way no one had noticed.

But she’d let you sit there. Let you talk. Let you stay.

So you would.

You smiled back and threw your arm around your bag. “So. What’s next? Do you have the schedule? Or are we just wandering until a teacher adopts us?”

Ningning blinked at you, then reached into her pocket and handed you a folded paper. You opened it and gasped. “You’re an organizational goddess. I should’ve known.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t take the schedule back.

You were still talking when you walked out of the classroom, voice trailing off into a story about Waffles attempting to scale your fridge for a single slice of cheese. Ningning didn’t reply, but she didn’t leave either.

And if everyone else in the hallway looked stunned to see you still alive and practically glued to her side well, that was their problem.

You were just getting started.

Ningning had helped you exactly one time.

It hadn’t even been dramatic. No life-or-death scenario, no “princess carried out of danger” moment. You’d just gotten lost, pointed your juice box at her like a compass, and asked for directions like she wasn’t the most unapproachable person in a ten-mile radius. She told you which hallway to go down. That should’ve been the end of it.

But it wasn’t. Not even close.

Because to you, that wasn’t just directions. That was a bond. That was friendship forged in the flames of social anxiety and bad map design. That was fate handing you a grumpy, scary, beautiful tour guide with the energy of a storm cloud and the aura of a final boss. And you, being exactly the kind of person who thought “boundaries” was just a suggestion, latched onto her like a barnacle made of sunshine and poor impulse control.

So now every morning, without fail, you showed up to school like you had a legally binding contract with the universe to be as loud and cheerful as possible, headed straight toward Ningning’s locker like you were on autopilot.

“Good morning!” you chirped one Thursday, popping up beside her like a caffeinated Pokémon. “I brought you a juice box! It’s apple. I wasn’t sure if you liked grape, and orange felt too acidic for a Thursday, you know?”

Ningning didn’t even look at you. She finished unlocking her locker with a slow turn of the dial and pulled her books out with precision that made it seem like she was trying very hard not to throw one at your head.

“If you don’t want it, I’ll drink both,” you added thoughtfully, holding up the boxes. “But not at the same time. That would be weird. Unless that’s like, a power move?”

Still no response.

You leaned closer. “You’re thinking about it, though. I can tell.”

One of Ningning’s friends, a tall girl with sharp eyeliner and a scarier stare paused mid-conversation to watch the two of you. She elbowed the guy next to her, who looked up and openly gawked. It was like you’d tamed a dragon with a Lunchables.

Ningning gave them a look that could wither plants. “Don’t,” she said flatly.

They both immediately turned away, but you caught the way they were grinning.

“I like your friends,” you said, not-so-quietly. “They look like they know how to hide a body. That’s so fun.”

This time, Ningning did glance at you. Brief. Disbelieving. Like she couldn’t understand how someone with no sense of fear had made it this far in life.

You smiled wider and tapped the juice box against her arm until she took it. “See? Besties.”

She blinked down at the apple juice in her hand like it personally offended her, then quietly tucked it into the front pocket of her bag.

You beamed. “Victory.”

She didn’t say anything else as the two of you started walking down the hallway together but you noticed her slowing her pace just enough so you wouldn’t have to jog to keep up.

The thing was, you weren’t stupid. People thought you were, because you talked a lot and wore bright colors and made friends with everyone in under five minutes. But you noticed things. Like how Ningning always kept one earbud out when you were around, even if the music was still playing. Or how she never outright told you to leave her alone, even though everyone insisted she didn’t tolerate clingy people. Or how her friends had stopped looking concerned and started looking amused whenever you appeared at her side.

You weren’t breaking her down. That would imply she was a wall. Ningning was more like… a fortress. Intact. Imposing. And you were just the idiot sunshine who kept knocking at the gate every day with a smile and a snack.

You didn’t mind. It was a good kind of challenge.

“You know,” you said as you reached your classroom, still walking with her even though her own class was on the other side of the building, “this is technically stalking.”

Ningning stared. “You’re admitting that?”

“Yup,” you grinned. “But like, friendly stalking. With juice. That makes it fine.”

“I’m reporting you,” she muttered.

You nodded seriously. “You want me to pose for the mugshot now, or later?”

That earned you a very quiet huff. Not quite a laugh. But not not a laugh.

You counted it as another win.

By lunchtime, you were bouncing your leg under the table and texting her even though you were two tables away.

you: i hope you drank the juice.

you: or at least looked at it fondly.

you: did you name it.

you: don’t lie. i feel like you did.

Across the cafeteria, Ningning didn’t respond. But she looked up once, met your eyes, and raised one unimpressed eyebrow.

You sent her five heart emojis and went back to your sandwich.

Her friends, once again, looked like they were watching the end of an era. One of them muttered something you couldn’t hear, and Ningning actually smacked her with a napkin.

You would’ve given anything to be closer just to hear what they were saying.

But you had time. You were in this for the long game. You didn’t mind that she didn’t talk much or that she rarely smiled. What mattered was that she let you talk. That she showed up. That when you hovered beside her desk in homeroom and offered to trade snacks, she didn’t tell you to go away.

You liked to think that meant something.

After school, you spotted her waiting by the front gate with her headphones in, bag slung over one shoulder, half in shadow like she belonged in a magazine spread.

You ran up to her, a little out of breath. “Hey. Want to walk home together?”

She didn’t answer right away. But she didn’t walk off either.

You pointed to your drink. “I have another juice box.”

Pause. Then: “What flavor?”

Your heart did a little dance.

“Peach.”

Ningning took it from you without another word and started walking. You grinned and followed.

Behind you, somewhere on school grounds, someone whispered, “No way. She actually tamed her.”

You didn’t turn around. Just skipped a little to catch up.

Besties, obviously.

You didn’t realize you’d become a campus-wide mystery until someone tried to interview you in the girl’s bathroom.

You were washing your hands, humming the theme song to your cat’s favorite cartoon (because of course Waffles had taste), when a third-year with half her hair dyed blue stepped up beside you and casually asked, “So… are you and Ningning dating?”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Or like, just talking?” she added. “Talking-talking. You know.”

You stared at her like she’d asked if you were secretly a tax evader. “We talk, yeah. I mean, I talk. She… tolerates.”

The girl gave you a skeptical once-over, clearly unconvinced. “You brought her a juice box yesterday.”

“I had two! And she looked dehydrated!”

The door swung open before she could press further, you took the escape route immediately, hands still slightly damp, nearly tripping over your own shoelaces as you scrambled back into the hallway.

It wasn’t the first time someone had said something weird. But it was the first time someone had said it to your face. Mostly it was just whispers, quiet, almost reverent.

You thought it was all exaggerated.

Sure, Ningning had a reputation. The kind that echoed in the halls, whispered in homeroom, and showed up in very dramatic posts on the school’s anonymous confession board. People said she never smiled, never spoke unless she had to, and could kill a rumor with one glare.

And yeah, maybe she did have that look. half bored, half annoyed, with eyeliner that could cut glass and the fashion sense of someone who knew exactly how hot she was but didn’t care.

But she wasn’t scary. Not to you. She was quiet, sure. She had this calm, still energy like a lake you weren’t sure was shallow or hiding a sea monster. But if you talked long enough, she answered. If you followed her, she didn’t walk away. If you gave her juice, she drank it.

You liked to think that meant something.

Still, the stares kept coming.

In homeroom, you plopped into the seat beside her like always, digging through your bag for a pen you swore you packed.

“You know,” you said, still rummaging, “I think my backpack eats stationery. There’s probably a whole civilization of lost pens and hair ties living in here.”

Ningning didn’t say anything. Just nudged a spare pen toward your side of the desk with a single, precise motion.

You beamed at her. “See, this is why you’re my favorite.”

From across the room, someone dropped their pencil. Hard. As if the sheer sound of you speaking to Ningning broke their hand-eye coordination.

You didn’t notice. Or pretended not to.

At lunch, it got worse.

You’d started sitting with her weeks ago at first just tagging along, then earning an eye-roll of acceptance. Now it was a thing. You sat beside her. Her friends tolerated you. And sometimes, when you brought a good snack, they even smiled.

You were halfway through an animated story about how Waffles had figured out how to open the treat drawer (“She’s so smart. She’s gonna evolve thumbs and replace me soon.”), when you leaned over and poked Ningning’s arm. Just a light tap. Nothing special.

She turned toward you, raising a brow. “What?”

“You’re not listening,” you accused.

“I am.”

“What did I say?”

“That your cat is probably smarter than you.”

You gasped. “You were listening! That’s so rude. And correct.”

From the next table over, a girl actually whispered, “Oh my god.” Like she’d just witnessed a miracle.

You looked around and finally noticed the eyes. The subtle tilts of heads. The sideways glances full of shock and awe. And Ningning, totally unbothered, quietly stabbing at her salad with her fork like she wasn’t the most talked-about person in school.

“Am I in a documentary?” you whispered. “Do I look okay? Should I pose?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Ningning muttered, but the corner of her mouth twitched. Barely.

You saw it.

So did everyone else.

Someone gasped. Audibly.

The table behind you fell into dead silence. One guy actually dropped his chopsticks.

You leaned in, wide-eyed. “Did you just almost smile?”

“No.”

“You did. Ningning. That’s a crime. That’s—wait, no, don’t hide your face. Let me see. I’m filing a report. I’m telling the press.”

She elbowed you lightly, and you grinned so hard your face hurt.

Later that day, in the hallway after gym, you overheard it again.

“Is that her? The one who sits with Ningning?”

“Yeah. She called her pretty once and didn’t die.”

You nearly walked into a locker.

A group of students near the stairwell were whispering with the intensity of people discussing a forbidden artifact. When you passed, they all hushed. One of them even gave you a subtle nod, like you were part of a secret club.

You didn’t know what to do with that.

You stopped by the vending machine, still processing, and jumped when Ningning appeared beside you like a fashionable ghost.

“Hey!” you smiled, instinctively offering your unopened drink. “I got two again.”

She took it wordlessly and leaned against the wall while you stared at the machine like it had betrayed you (which, to be fair, it had your chips got stuck halfway down).

You sighed. “Why does everyone think we’re dating?”

Ningning glanced at you. “They do?”

“Yup. Full-on love story levels. It’s wild.”

She didn’t reply right away. Just watched you tilt your head at the vending machine and mutter about physics and snack injustice.

Then she said, “It’s probably the juice.”

You looked at her. “What?”

“Or the way you follow me everywhere.”

You blinked. “But I do that to like, three other people too.”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t bring them drinks.”

You tilted your head. “Wait. Are you saying I’m special?”

She stared. Unblinking.

You grinned. “You like me.”

“Don’t make it weird.”

“Too late.”

She exhaled through her nose. Turned to leave.

You followed, of course.

And behind you, someone whispered, “Okay, maybe they are dating.”

You didn’t even bother correcting them.

It started with the seat.

At first, you thought it was coincidence. A lucky fluke. You walked into homeroom a little later than usual, blame Waffles, who had decided your sock drawer was the perfect place to throw up a hairball and by the time you got there, half the class was already seated. You scanned the room, expecting to have to wedge yourself between strangers or, worse, sit alone.

But there it was.

The seat next to Ningning. Empty.

Not a bag on it. Not a textbook. Not even someone hovering nearby like they were thinking about claiming it.

You hesitated for half a second because you were pretty sure someone else had been eyeing that spot earlier in the week but then Ningning glanced up from her phone and gave the tiniest, subtlest head tilt.

Permission.

You plopped down beside her like you hadn’t just won the student council lottery. “Thanks for saving it,” you said, half teasing.

“I didn’t,” she replied flatly.

“Right. Of course. It just happens to be available every day. Reserved by fate.”

She didn’t answer. Just unlocked her phone again.

But the next day, the same thing happened. And the day after that. And the next. Every time you walked in on time, late, sleep-deprived, it was there. Your spot. Next to her.

You started calling it “home base.” She started pretending not to hear you.

The notes came later.

You weren’t exactly bad at math. You just… processed it like an abstract painting. Vaguely. Emotionally. With a lot of guessing and spiraling into existential dread.

So when your teacher started speed-running logarithmic functions like he was trying to win a prize, you froze halfway through copying an equation and whispered, “Okay, what the hell is happening?”

Ningning didn’t say anything.

Just reached into her folder, tore out a page, neat handwriting, highlighted formulas, even a tiny doodle of a cat in the margin and slid it over to you without a word.

You stared. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“It’s not,” she muttered.

“It is. I’m framing this. I’m putting it in a shrine. I’m naming my firstborn after you.”

“Don’t.”

“Too late. Baby Ningning’s gonna be so proud.”

Despite herself, her mouth twitched. A twitch that almost became a smile. And the back of the class went quiet again, like witnessing any emotion from her triggered an auto-silence reflex.

You leaned closer. “You know, for someone with a scary reputation, you’re dangerously soft.”

“I will take that paper back.”

“You won’t.”

“I might.”

“You won’t. Because you love me.”

She turned, expression blank. “Shut up and solve the problem.”

“You so love me.”

She sighed, long and suffering. “I really don’t.”

You poked her arm. “Liar.”

She didn’t respond.

But when the bell rang and you gathered your things in a flurry of paper and sparkly pens, she tucked her notes back into your binder before you could forget them.

The third time it happened, you weren’t even there.

You were in the library when it started. returning a late book (with your sincerest apologies and a donut for the librarian) and humming some stupid jingle under your breath, oblivious as always.

Across the courtyard, back in homeroom, some kid thought it’d be funny to make a comment.

Nothing mean, really. Just stupid. The kind of joke people think is harmless, even though it sticks like gum on your shoe. He’d glanced at your desk, laughed under his breath, and said, “Ningning must have the patience of a saint. I’d go deaf if I sat next to her every day.”

A few kids chuckled.

Ningning didn’t.

She didn’t even look up at first. Just kept scrolling on her phone. Then, slowly, she locked the screen and turned her head, eyes sharp and unreadable.

“Try saying that again when she’s here,” she said, voice calm.

The room fell silent.

The guy blinked, startled. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“I—uh—was just joking.”

She stared.

It wasn’t the kind of glare that screamed or snarled or threatened. It was worse. It was silent. Cutting. The kind that made people suddenly rethink their life choices.

The boy stammered something that resembled an apology and promptly shut up. Someone behind him whispered “Damn,” under their breath.

When you came back fifteen minutes later, chattering about how the librarian had accepted your peace-offering donut but made you promise to actually return things on time, Ningning didn’t mention it.

But a few of her friends glanced at each other as you sat down, smacked your head gently against your desk, and sighed about overdue fees like they were a moral failure.

Ningning slid one of your glitter pens back across the table to you.

You hadn’t even noticed it had fallen.

Little things.

That’s how she did it.

She never said it outright. Never admitted anything. But she was always there. Quiet. Consistent. Soft in the ways she thought you wouldn’t notice.

She saved you a seat, even if she denied it. Gave you her notes without asking why. Carried an extra hair tie after you complained about forgetting yours during gym. Learned your favorite vending machine snack and never said a word when she started grabbing two.

And you the sunshine that you were never stopped showing up.

Because some part of you knew. Underneath the glares and the sighs and the deadpan comebacks, she cared.

And maybe she wasn’t ready to say it yet.

But that was okay.

Because you were fluent in soft grump care. And you had all the time in the world.

It was supposed to be a normal afternoon.

The sky had been clear when you left for school. Not a single suspicious cloud. Birds were chirping. You were whistling. Life was good.

And then fifth period ended, and apparently, the weather decided to throw hands.

The downpour hit like a sucker punch, sheets of rain hammering the courtyard, the sidewalk, the tiny sad trees lining the school’s front gate. You watched it all from the lobby doors, backpack slung over your shoulder, holding your half-collapsed, questionably sturdy umbrella like it might magically fix itself if you just stared hard enough.

Spoiler: it didn’t.

You nudged it open with a painful squeak, only for the left side to snap backward like a dying bat wing. Awesome. Fantastic. Peak freshman energy.

Around you, other students huddled under real umbrellas or dashed to waiting cars. You stood there, juice box still in your pocket from lunch, weighing your options like a soldier before battle.

Option one: brave it with your sad excuse for an umbrella and look like a wet cryptid.

Option two: perish.

You were seriously leaning toward option three when a shadow fell over you.

You turned.

And there she was.

Ningning, standing at your side, an umbrella tilted casually over her shoulder, rain sliding harmlessly down the black fabric. She wore the same deadpan expression she always did, but there was a flicker barely there in her eyes.

Without a word, she shoved her hoodie into your chest.

You caught it awkwardly, blinking. “Wait—what—?”

“You’re gonna catch a cold,” she said, voice flat.

You looked down at the hoodie. It was soft. Slightly oversized. Smelled like clean laundry and something faintly like vanilla.

You looked back up at her, beaming. “You do like me!”

“I don’t.”

“You dooo~” you sing-songed, hugging the hoodie to your chest like a trophy. “You’re giving me your actual clothes. That’s best friend behavior. That’s soulmate behavior.”

Ningning rolled her eyes, but she moved closer so the umbrella covered you both anyway.

You slipped the hoodie over your head, laughing when the sleeves swallowed your hands. “I’m keeping this forever, by the way. This is mine now.”

“Return it tomorrow.”

“I’ll think about it.”

She huffed under her breath a tiny, almost imperceptible sound that you decided to translate as affection.

You grinned up at her. “You’re like a stray cat that keeps pretending it doesn’t want pets, but keeps showing up on my porch anyway.”

“Stop talking.”

“I won’t.”

The two of you started walking, your shoes splashing through shallow puddles, rain pattering on the umbrella above you like a quiet drumbeat. Ningning didn’t say much, she never did but she didn’t pull away when you bumped shoulders accidentally-on-purpose.

And when you turned your face up to her again, soaking in her rare company like sunshine, she finally gave in. A sigh. The faintest tug at the corner of her lips.

A smile.

Tiny. Blink-and-you’ll-miss-it.

But real.

You almost tripped over your own feet.

“Worth it,” you whispered under your breath, tucking your hands deeper into the too-long hoodie sleeves, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt.

Ningning glanced sideways at you.

She didn’t say it.

But you were pretty sure she was thinking it too.

Worth it.

It happened on a Thursday.

The rain from earlier in the week was long gone, leaving the air sticky and heavy, the pavement still damp in some places. You and Ningning had ended up sitting under the big oak tree at the edge of the field. half because you were waiting for a club meeting to start, half because Ningning never seemed to mind when you followed her around like a dedicated golden retriever.

You were doodling aimlessly in your notebook, trying to draw Waffles in increasingly ridiculous outfits, while Ningning scrolled through her phone beside you, pretending not to watch over your shoulder.

And you, like the sunshine oblivious hurricane you were, started talking without really thinking.

“Y’know, I used to sit by myself a lot at my old school,” you said casually, punctuating the sentence by sketching a tiny cowboy hat onto Waffles' head. “At lunch, at assemblies, whatever. It wasn’t, like, tragic or anything. People just kinda… forgot I existed sometimes.”

You laughed, light and unbothered, like you were telling a mildly embarrassing story about tripping onstage during a school play.

“They didn’t mean to, I guess. I’m pretty easy to forget if I’m not being loud. And when I am being loud, it’s just, like—annoying? So either way, it was easier for everyone if I just kept myself company.”

You laughed again, shrugging it off like you always did. Like it was fine. Like it was ancient history and it didn’t still ache sometimes, in small quiet ways you didn’t like to admit.

Ningning was silent.

Not her usual comfortable quiet, either. Not the kind where she was just content to let you ramble while she listened with half an ear.

This was different.

You glanced sideways at her.

She was staring straight ahead, phone forgotten in her lap, hands still.

For a second, you wondered if you’d messed up. If you’d made it awkward. If you should backpedal, crack a stupid joke, move on.

But before you could say anything, she spoke.

“They were stupid.”

The words came out low. Certain.

You blinked.

Ningning didn’t look at you. Just kept her gaze fixed on the soccer goals in the distance, the metal frames catching the late afternoon light.

“They were stupid,” she said again, voice steady but something else threading underneath it. “Anyone who made you feel like you didn’t matter. Anyone who looked at you and didn’t see—” she stopped, mouth tightening, like she wasn’t used to dragging feelings into the open air, “—everything you are.”

Your breath caught.

She finally turned her head, just enough that you could see her eyes. Serious. Unflinching. A little bit fierce in a way that made your heart clench.

“You’re not annoying,” she added, softer. “You’re... loud sometimes. And stubborn. And you talk too much.”

You snorted, wiping at your nose with your sleeve. “Wow. Compliments galore.”

“But you’re unforgettable,” she said, ignoring your crack completely. “And anyone who didn’t get that was an idiot.”

You didn’t know what to say.

The words stuck in your throat, tangled up with something warm and painful at the same time.

Because you realized, suddenly, that Ningning your silent, scowly, reluctant partner in crime wasn’t just saying it to be nice. She wasn’t saying it because she felt bad for you, or because she thought it was what you wanted to hear.

She meant it.

Every clipped, awkward, vulnerable word.

You laughed, too loud and a little watery. “You’re gonna make me cry, dude.”

“Don’t,” she said immediately, stiffening like the idea of dealing with tears was more terrifying than death.

You wiped your eyes anyway, grinning. “No promises.”

For a few seconds, neither of you spoke.

The breeze picked up, rustling the leaves above your heads. Someone whistled off in the distance, probably a soccer player wrapping up practice. Life kept moving around you.

But under the oak tree, it felt like the world had gone a little quieter. A little softer.

You scooted closer, knocking your shoulder lightly against hers.

Ningning didn’t move away.

You smiled at her, wide and blinding, because that’s what you did what you’d always done and because for once, you didn’t feel like you had to hide any piece of yourself.

“Thanks, grumpy cat.”

She rolled her eyes.

But a second later, when she thought you weren’t looking, she smiled too.

Small. Crooked. Real.

And maybe just maybe you weren’t as easy to forget as you used to believe.

It started with a new transfer student.

A week into the new semester, the classroom door swung open mid-morning, and in walked a boy with a bright grin, messy hair, and a charm level dangerously close to yours. Mr. Kwon, your homeroom teacher, introduced him as Jisung, transfer from another city, loves soccer, hates math, yadda yadda.

You were, of course, the first to wave enthusiastically, practically bouncing in your seat as you whispered, “New kid energy! Solidarity!” loud enough that half the class heard. Including Ningning, who gave you a look from across the room like you had personally offended her peace treaty with humanity.

Jisung ended up sitting two seats away from you. Which meant within three minutes, you were already chatting like you’d been childhood friends separated at birth.

You told him about the cafeteria’s tragic spaghetti days. He told you about getting lost in the gym for forty minutes during his tour. You bonded over mutual juice box obsessions.

It was harmless.

At least, you thought it was harmless.

The first time you noticed anything weird was lunch.

You and Jisung were heading toward your usual table when you almost dropped your tray. Ningning already sitting at the table, which she never did before you came along, looked up the second she saw you with someone new.

There was something sharp in her gaze. Something that made you falter mid-step.

She didn’t say anything. Just shoved an empty seat out with her foot, the scrape of metal on tile loud in the silence between you.

“Oh, uh—this is Jisung!” you chirped, awkwardly filling the air. “He’s cool. He got lost in the gym for forty minutes, so obviously he’s one of us now.”

Jisung gave a bright, clueless wave.

Ningning stared at him. Unblinking.

Poor guy looked like he aged five years under her gaze.

You rushed to sit down between them, laughing nervously. "Haha, so anyway, spaghetti today, right? Amazing. Life-changing. Michelin star."

Ningning said nothing. Just kept eating her rice like it personally wronged her.

You chalked it up to her being in a mood.

Until it kept happening.

Every time Jisung showed up next to you at lunch, after class, even during study hall, Ningning suddenly materialized too. Like clockwork. Like some grumpy guardian angel.

She never interrupted. Never said a word, really.

But she was there.

Hovering just close enough that you couldn’t forget it.

One afternoon, while you were trying to teach Jisung how to make those weird origami ninja stars (“Trust the process!” you kept saying as his kept collapsing into sad paper blobs), Ningning leaned back against the wall a few feet away, arms crossed, watching.

And scowling.

And watching.

And scowling.

And every now and then, when you laughed a little too loud at Jisung’s dramatic paper-folding failures, her jaw would tighten just slightly.

It didn’t take long for her friends to catch on.

You found out the hard way when you heard a loud cough-cough “jealousy” (cough) from across the hallway.

Giselle was nearly falling off the bench she was sitting on, stifling laughter. Winter openly pointed at Ningning, mouthing something that looked suspiciously like “go get your girl”.

Karina, calm as ever, just sipped her iced coffee and raised one eyebrow, the universal signal for (we know everything, and we are judging you in the most loving way possible.)

Ningning, for her part, responded with a glare so icy it could’ve frozen the sun.

You, being your usual oblivious self, just waved at them all happily.

“Hi, guys!”

Karina choked on her drink.

Giselle had to walk away, giggling under her breath.

Winter looked like she might start filming the scene for posterity.

Meanwhile, Ningning stood stiffly at your side, the tips of her ears just barely pink.

You tugged on her sleeve without thinking, grinning up at her. “You okay? You look kinda warm? Want my juice box? It’s grape today.”

Ningning stared at you.

For a second, you thought she might actually say something sassy. Maybe tell you off. Maybe tease you.

Instead, she reached out and took the juice box without a word.

You blinked.

Giselle, thirty feet away, made an audible squeal sound.

Winter’s hands slapped over her mouth like she couldn’t believe what she just witnessed.

And Karina just nodded solemnly, like she was presiding over a historic event.

You had no idea what any of it meant.

But Ningning cracked the tiniest smirk around the straw as she sipped your grape juice.

And for some reason, your heart did the stupidest little flip.

It was just another normal afternoon.

Or it should’ve been, anyway.

You were out in the courtyard again, sitting cross-legged on the grass with your backpack flopped open beside you, laughing way too hard at something Jisung said. He was holding your phone dramatically like he’d just discovered the funniest meme on earth, and you were practically rolling, snorting so loudly that a nearby group of seniors turned around.

From across the field, Ningning watched.

Or more accurately, glared.

She sat perched on one of the low stone walls, arms crossed tight over her chest, foot tapping an impatient rhythm against the rock. Her brows were drawn together, mouth twisted in a flat line. The late sun lit up her hair like a halo, but there was nothing remotely angelic about the look she was sending in your direction.

Winter plopped down next to her, sipping her milk tea without a care in the world.

“Wow,” Winter said, after a few long seconds of heavy silence. “You know you’re glaring like you’re planning a murder, right?”

Ningning didn’t answer.

Instead, she narrowed her eyes further as Jisung nudged you with his shoulder and you laughed again, bright, sunny, a sound that made half the courtyard turn to look.

Winter raised an eyebrow. “Seriously. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already.”

Still no answer.

Just more death-staring.

Winter leaned closer, lowering her voice to a stage whisper. “You could just admit it, y'know.”

Ningning’s hands tightened where they rested on her arms. Her jaw clenched. Something uncoiled in her chest. hot and sharp and way too big to keep swallowing down anymore.

And before she could stop herself, before she could even think about stopping herself, she snapped:

“She’s mine—!”

The words rang out louder than she intended, cutting through the lazy hum of the courtyard.

Winter choked on her drink.

Ningning froze, realizing exactly what just came out of her mouth.

“I mean—” she sputtered immediately, face flushing faster than a struck match, “not mine mine. Just—! She’s—! I—! Shut up!”

Winter was wheezing now, half from surprise, half from unholy glee.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, clutching her side like she was physically in pain from holding in her laughter. “You actually said it. Out loud. In public. I’m never letting you live this down.”

Ningning practically leapt off the wall, hands fisted at her sides, burning with mortification. “I hate you,” she hissed under her breath.

“No you don’t,” Winter grinned, slapping her on the back as she passed.

Ningning muttered something incoherent and stormed across the courtyard, away from the scene of the crime, away from the warmth bubbling in her throat that she didn’t know how to deal with.

She didn’t even check if you heard.

She couldn’t.

If she looked back and saw you staring, saw you smiling at her the way you always did, open and blinding and so much. she wasn’t sure she’d survive it.

Not yet.

Not when she hadn’t figured out how to say it properly. How to tell you that somehow, without her even noticing it happen, you had become her favorite noise in a world that used to feel way too silent.

That you had made a home for yourself right inside her ribs, careless and fearless and so stupidly bright.

She wasn’t ready for you to know all that.

Not yet.

But maybe soon.

Maybe sooner than she thought.

It started out subtle.

You weren’t exactly the best at reading normal social cues, half the time you thought someone glaring at you meant they needed a hug but even you could tell something was weird.

Ningning was around more. Like, a lot more. You’d turn a corner and she’d be there, leaning against a locker. You’d walk into class and find her already sitting at your desk, idly flipping through your doodle-filled notebook. You’d get to lunch and she’d be saving a seat for you, one foot braced against the chair so no one else dared take it.

But she was… different.

Quieter.

Tighter.

Before, Ningning’s grumpiness had a sort of dry, almost playful edge when it came to you. Now? It felt heavier. Like there was something sitting on her chest she wasn’t saying.

And the looks God, the looks.

They were sharper. Longer. Like she was trying to figure out a puzzle where the pieces kept changing. Like maybe you were the puzzle, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to throw it across the room or frame it on the wall.

At first you brushed it off.

Maybe she was just tired. Midterms were coming up. You’d seen people lose their minds over physics homework for less.

But then it kept happening.

One afternoon, you were sitting under the old oak tree near the field, sketching random nonsense in your notebook. Jisung plopped down beside you, waving a bag of gummy bears like a peace offering, and you accepted them with a grin.

Mid-laugh, you glanced up and there she was.

Ningning.

Across the courtyard, leaning against the fence, watching.

Expression unreadable.

Eyes sharp enough to slice through the breeze.

You gave her a big wave, cheerfully flapping your arms.

She didn’t wave back.

Just stared.

For the first time in a long time, something in your chest twinged, not painful, exactly, but confusing in a way that made you want to wrap yourself in ten layers of hoodies and hide.

You turned back to Jisung, still smiling, but it felt wobbly now. Like a table with one leg too short.

It all came to a head two days later.

You were leaving history class, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, juice box in your hand (today's flavor: tropical punch), when Ningning fell into step beside you.

You blinked at her. She didn’t usually walk you to your next class unless she had something to say. But today, she just… walked. Silent. Brooding.

You glanced sideways at her. She looked like she was thinking about fifty things at once and none of them were nice.

After three minutes of heavy silence, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You skidded to a dramatic stop in the middle of the hallway, causing a freshman to nearly crash into you.

Ningning halted too, blinking down at you with a flicker of surprise.

You poked her lightly in the arm with your straw. “Okay. Real talk.”

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

You took a deep breath, puffing your cheeks out before exhaling in a rush. “Did I do something wrong? You’re looking at me like I ate your cat.”

For a second, Ningning just stared at you.

Something flickered across her face. something almost like guilt, but faster, slipperier, gone before you could really catch it.

You shifted your juice box from one hand to the other, trying to smile even though your stomach twisted a little.

“If I, like, stepped on your vibe or whatever, you can just tell me,” you said, voice a little too chipper around the edges. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll even buy you, like, three grape juice boxes. That’s friendship inflation, you know.”

Still, no answer.

Ningning’s gaze dropped to the floor.

And then she just... shrugged.

Shrugged like you hadn’t just offered her the sun.

Shrugged like none of it mattered.

The shrug hurt more than if she’d shoved you away.

Before you could say anything else, she muttered something under her breath, too soft to catch and turned, walking off down the hall like she was late for something.

Leaving you standing there.

Juice box limp in your hand.

Heart sinking just a little too low.

You stared after her, biting your lip.

For a second, a tiny, reckless second you wanted to chase after her. Grab her hand. Demand she tell you what was wrong because you could feel it pressing between you, thick and heavy and real.

But you didn’t.

You stood there for a beat longer, feeling stupid and heavy in a way you didn’t quite know how to name.

Then you shook yourself like a wet dog, slapped a too-bright smile back on your face, and marched toward your next class.

Maybe Ningning was just having a bad day.

Maybe you were reading too much into things.

Maybe you should just give her space.

Even if it stung.

You jammed your straw into your juice box and took an angry sip.

Tropical punch had never tasted so sour.

It was a slow unraveling.

Not the kind you noticed all at once. Not like a slap to the face or a door slammed in anger.

It was softer.

Quieter.

The kind of unraveling that you only realized was happening when you looked down one day and found the thread wrapped around your fingers, frayed and half-gone, without even knowing you'd been pulling it.

It started small.

Ningning stopped waiting for you after class.

Stopped looking up when you bounced into the room, waving your latest juice box or ridiculous meme at her like a trophy.

She still showed up sometimes, still sat in the same lunch spot, still walked down the same hallways but there was a new kind of distance now. A carefulness.

Like you were something she was trying not to touch.

At first you told yourself it was fine.

Maybe she was just busy. Maybe she was stressed. Maybe her cat had a dentist appointment. You could come up with a million reasons if you tried hard enough.

But it kept happening.

One morning, you rushed into homeroom ten minutes late, hair a mess, socks mismatched, clutching two coffees from the convenience store because you knew she’d forgotten breakfast again.

You slammed the cup down on her desk with a big, stupid grin. "Fuel for the grumpiest grump," you chirped.

Ningning barely glanced at it.

Barely glanced at you.

Just muttered a quiet, distracted thanks and went back to scribbling in her notebook.

Something in your chest dipped, low and heavy.

You stood there for a second, holding your own coffee with both hands, feeling like you’d just been left hanging in the middle of a high five.

And because it was you, because smiling was what you were good at, you just beamed wider, letting your voice stay bright.

“No worries!” you said, popping the straw into your coffee with a too-loud stab. “I know I’m a lot. Like... a lot a lot. Probably not what you signed up for when you answered that first question, huh?"

You laughed, short and airy.

She didn’t laugh back.

Didn’t even look at you.

And God, if that didn’t sting worse than anything else.

You sank into your seat beside her, pressing your coffee cup against your cheek like it could cool the heat rising under your skin.

Tried to focus on the blackboard. Tried not to hear the way your own heartbeat sounded too loud in your ears. Tried not to think about the way Ningning was sitting just a few inches away but felt like she was miles and miles out of reach.

Maybe you were too much.

Maybe you always had been.

People liked you at first, sunshine was easy to love when it wasn’t burning too close but eventually they drifted away. Got tired. Got annoyed. Left you blinking in the middle of an empty hallway, wondering what you’d done wrong.

You were used to it.

You’d learned how to patch over it with jokes and glitter pens and loud, messy smiles that made it hard for anyone to notice the cracks underneath.

You weren’t going to make Ningning feel guilty for that.

Not when she'd been the first person here to make you feel like you weren't shouting into a void.

Not when you still liked her way too much for your own good.

The bell rang, sharp and sudden, and you jumped a little.

Ningning was already packing up.

You watched her zip her bag and stand, hoodie sleeves pulled down over her hands like she didn’t want to touch anything bare.

She didn’t say goodbye.

Just walked out, shoulders hunched tighter than usual.

You stared after her, chewing your lip.

And then, like an idiot, you smiled again.

Waved at her retreating back even though she couldn’t see it.

“It’s okay,” you whispered to yourself, voice light, joking, the way it always was when things started to ache too much. “You probably just need space. I get it. I’m a lot sometimes. Loud and messy and—” you paused, squeezing your eyes shut for a second, “—and it’s okay."

You tucked your coffee cup under your arm, grabbed your backpack, and headed for your next class with your usual spring in your step.

If anyone noticed that your bounce was a little slower that day, no one said anything.

And that was fine.

Really.

You were used to walking on your own when people got tired of the sunshine.

You could do it again.

You just… kind of wished you didn’t have to.

It wasn’t even supposed to happen like that.

Ningning had convinced herself she was doing the right thing, giving you space, making sure she didn’t drag you down into the mess of her own fears. She thought if she pulled back first, it wouldn’t hurt so much when you got bored. When you realized she wasn’t worth the trouble.

But the thing about sunshine was, it didn’t just go away quietly.

It dimmed.

It flickered.

And Ningning noticed.

It was in the way you didn’t rush to her side in the mornings anymore. You still smiled, still waved, but sometimes it took you a second longer, like you were checking first to see if you were welcome.

It was in the way you sat with your hands folded too neatly on your desk, fidgeting with your pen instead of nudging her arm and whispering about how your cat Waffles tried to eat a shoelace again.

It was in the way you caught yourself before reaching for her, pulling back at the last second with a small, polite laugh that made her chest hurt more than she knew how to explain.

Ningning knew she’d messed up.

She just didn’t know how badly until Yujin cornered her after lunch.

It wasn’t even a dramatic thing. No shouting, no slammed lockers. Yujin just leaned against the wall by the courtyard door, arms crossed, watching her with that calm, steady look that said she wasn’t here to play around.

"You think I don’t see it?” Yujin said, voice low. “You think none of us notice how she looks at you like you hung the damn stars?”

Ningning didn’t answer.

Didn’t meet her eyes.

Yujin pushed off the wall, stepping closer. Not threatening, just there, solid and impossible to ignore.

“If you’re going to make her sad,” she said, quiet but cutting, “you don’t get to keep her.”

The words landed sharp in Ningning’s gut.

She didn’t say anything for a long second.

Couldn’t.

Because she knew it was true.

You deserved better than someone who pushed you away because they were too scared to hold on.

Someone who let their own stupid fears take up more space than you.

Someone who was too much of a coward to just tell you the truth: that you mattered. That you were the brightest thing that had ever crashed into her world and she didn’t know how to live without you now.

“You’re hurting her,” Yujin added, a little softer. “And you don’t even see it, do you?”

Ningning opened her mouth.

Closed it again.

Because the truth was, she had seen it.

Had seen the tiny cracks in your smile, the way your eyes flickered down when she didn’t answer right away, the way you clutched your books a little too tightly sometimes, like you needed something to hold on to.

And she hated it.

Hated that she had done that to you.

Yujin sighed, like she was tired of being the voice of reason. "If you don't want her," she said, shrugging one shoulder, "someone else will."

The idea twisted something ugly in Ningning’s chest.

Because the thought of you turning that bright, blinding smile toward someone else, someone who wouldn’t hesitate to catch it, someone who wouldn’t freeze up at the weight of being wanted made her feel like she couldn’t breathe.

And for the first time, Ningning realized:

It wasn’t about protecting herself anymore.

It wasn’t about being safe.

It was about losing you.

And that was something she couldn't live with.

Not now.

Not ever.

She stood there long after Yujin walked away, the courtyard empty around her, the cold spring air biting at her skin. Thinking about the way you used to beam at her without hesitation. About the way you had looked today, smiling still, always smiling, but not reaching anymore.

She’d done that.

And if she didn’t fix it soon, she was going to lose the only person who had ever made her feel like she was more than just the grumpy girl everyone was scared of.

She didn’t know exactly how to fix it yet.

But she knew one thing:

She had to try.

Because you deserved someone who wasn’t afraid to stay.

And she wanted to be that person.

For you.

It started with the empty desk.

At first, Ningning told herself not to overthink it. Maybe you were running late. Maybe you had a dentist appointment. Maybe you just... weren’t feeling it today. It wasn’t like you owed her your presence every second of every day.

Except,

Except you always said good morning.

You always found her, somehow, even if you were half-asleep or juggling three juice boxes and a backpack that looked like it might swallow you whole.

You always showed up.

And today... nothing.

The clock ticked louder than usual. The seat beside her stayed stubbornly empty. Her hand kept twitching toward her phone under the desk.

By lunchtime, Ningning had abandoned all dignity.

“Have you seen Y/N?” she asked one of her classmates some guy who always sat two rows behind them and barely knew her.

He blinked at her like she’d grown two heads.

“No?” he squeaked. “Did she quit the school?”

Ningning almost bit his head off on the spot.

By the end of lunch, she’d asked at least five people and gotten zero answers, and her friends were starting to stare at her like she’d finally lost it.

Then Yujin, who was way too smug for someone who hadn't even helped, leaned in and said, “Her best friend’s by the vending machines.”

Ningning didn’t even hesitate.

She found the girl easily enough, leaning against the wall, sipping a soda, scrolling on her phone. Y/N’s friend, the sunshine-protector who always hovered nearby, watching with wary eyes.

Ningning didn’t bother with small talk.

"Where is she?"

The girl looked up, eyebrows raised. “Who’s asking?”

Ningning scowled. “Me.”

There was a long moment where Y/N’s friend just stared at her. Weighing. Judging. Probably remembering every time Ningning had made you look a little sad, a little confused.

Then, finally, she said, “She’s sick. Stayed home.”

Relief hit Ningning so hard her knees almost gave out.

Sick. Not gone. Not transferred away without saying goodbye. Just sick.

“She’s fine,” the friend added, clearly reading her panic. “Texted me this morning. Just a cold.”

Ningning should’ve left it at that.

She didn’t.

"Where does she live?"

The words were out before she could stop them.

The friend tilted her head, suspicious. “Why?”

Ningning hesitated. Felt the weight of every unspoken thing she hadn’t said to you pressing down on her.

"I just..." She scratched the back of her neck, cheeks burning. "I wanna make sure she’s okay."

Something flickered in the girl’s eyes. Approval, maybe. Or resignation.

“She likes strawberry milk,” was all she said before rattling off an address.

Ningning barely heard her over the thundering of her own heart.

Standing in front of your house half an hour later After school, clutching a bag from the corner store like a complete idiot, Ningning almost turned around five times.

This was stupid.

You probably didn’t even want to see her.

You probably had real friends, better friends, who didn’t ignore you for a week and then show up on your doorstep with strawberry milk and panic in their chest.

Still.

She rang the doorbell.

A second later, the door swung open and there you were, wrapped in a giant hoodie, hair a mess, nose red from blowing it too much. You looked like a fever dream.

Literally.

For a second, you just blinked at her.

Then you said, voice scratchy and small, “Ningning?”

Her throat closed up.

She shoved the bag at you, cheeks burning. “You’re sick. I brought stuff.”

You stared at the bag, then at her.

Then, softly, “You didn’t have to.”

Ningning wanted to say, ”I know.”

Wanted to say, ”I wanted to.”

Wanted to say, ”I miss you.”

Instead, she mumbled, “It’s not a big deal.”

Liar.

You smiled a little, the tired kind of smile, but still real. Still you.

And Ningning’s chest ached.

Behind her words, in the back of her mind, she could still hear Yujin’s voice: ”If you’re going to make her sad, you don’t get to keep her.”

She almost said it then.

Almost blurted out everything she was too scared to name.

But when you tilted your head, coughing into your sleeve and looking so small and sleepy and trusting, the fear won.

Again.

Ningning shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and said, “Get better soon. School’s boring without you.”

You laughed, even though it turned into a wheeze halfway through.

And Ningning the coward that she was just stood there for another second, burning the image of you into her mind, before mumbling some excuse about homework and walking away before she could do something reckless like kiss you.

Maybe someday she’d be brave enough to tell you the truth.

But for now...

She hoped the strawberry milk said enough.

There was a change. Small at first. Almost unnoticeable if you weren't looking for it.

But Ningning was looking.

It wasn’t that you stopped smiling, you still did, that bright, open grin she secretly looked for the second she walked into a room. You still bounced a little when you talked, still waved too enthusiastically when you spotted her across the quad. Still found reasons to be close, like the universe naturally spun you toward her orbit.

But there was a softness now. A hesitation.

When you laughed, it wasn’t quite as loud.

When you poked her arm to get her attention, it lingered just a second less.

When you talked, sometimes you would glance at her like you were searching for signs, permission, maybe to keep going.

Ningning hated it. Hated it because she knew she was the reason.

Ever since she'd shown up at your door like a walking panic attack, she hadn't known what to do with herself. Hadn’t said what she should’ve said. Hadn’t given you the words you so clearly deserved.

And now you were… retreating.

Still here, but holding yourself tighter.

She couldn’t stand it.

That’s why, one afternoon, when you sat beside her on the low wall outside school, knees tucked up, hands fiddling with the straw in your juice box, Ningning finally cracked.

"You mad at me?" she blurted out.

You blinked at her, startled. “What?”

She shifted uncomfortably, shoving her hands deep into her hoodie pockets. “You're... different.”

You looked down at your drink, straw bobbing uselessly in the carton. Your voice, when it came, was soft enough that she had to lean in to catch it.

“No. I’m not mad.”

A pause.

"I’m just scared you'll disappear if I say the wrong thing."

The words hit her like a gut punch.

You, you, the one who filled every silence with sunshine and easy laughter you were scared. Of her.

Ningning went still.

For a second, she didn’t know what to say. Every instinct screamed at her to fix it, to do something, anything to wipe that sadness from your voice.

But she remembered something you said once, on a day when you were teasing her about her stubbornness. “Sometimes people just need you to stay, dummy."

So she stayed.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Didn’t let the fear in her own chest take over.

Instead, Ningning leaned back slightly on her palms, gaze fixed somewhere over your head at the slowly darkening sky, and said in the quietest, most serious voice you’d ever heard from her:

"I’m not going anywhere."

You looked up at her then. Really looked.

And Ningning, for once, didn’t look away.

No sarcasm. No teasing deflection. Just the truth, raw and clumsy between them.

Your mouth wobbled, like you were trying not to cry or laugh or maybe both. Then, slowly, you leaned your shoulder against hers.

Not saying anything.

Not asking anything.

Just believing her.

Ningning felt something in her chest click into place like maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t already ruined everything.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to be the person you already thought she was.

It was one of those evenings when the world felt just a little softer. The sky had started bleeding into shades of gold and pink, and the lazy breeze carried the distant sounds of laughter from students still hanging around after school events.

Ningning and you had found yourselves tucked away on the bleachers near the back of the soccer field, your backpacks tossed carelessly at your feet, half-eaten snacks between you.

It was easy like this. Comfortable. Like there was no rush to be anywhere else.

You were sitting cross-legged, absently twirling the straw of your juice box, gaze flickering up toward the clouds with a distracted sort of wonder Ningning always secretly liked watching. She was leaning back on her palms, head tilted, pretending not to be waiting for you to say something because you always said something. It was just a matter of time.

But today you were quiet longer than usual. And for once, she found herself fidgeting first, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

Finally, you broke the silence.

"Hey…"

Your voice was light but nervous around the edges. Ningning immediately sat up a little straighter, wary.

"You know how you’re always saying I talk too much?" you asked, lips quirking in a soft smile.

Ningning snorted, the familiar reaction automatic. "Because you do."

Your grin grew, but it was gentler this time, almost fragile. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and looked at her properly, and Ningning's chest tightened at how serious your eyes were, even though your mouth kept smiling like you were trying to make it easier for both of you.

"Then let me get this one last thing out before I explode, okay?" you said, almost sheepish.

She didn’t say anything. Just stared. Frozen in place.

You inhaled slowly, like you were pulling courage from the air itself, and then you said it. Gently. No fanfare. No dramatic buildup. Just the truth, small and seismic all at once.

"I like you. A lot. And I don’t expect you to say it back. I just wanted you to know."

There. It was out.

You looked down immediately, fiddling with your juice box, pretending like you weren’t desperately wishing the ground would swallow you whole. You didn’t even seem to expect an answer, you were ready to leave it hanging in the air, heavy and awkward if it needed to be.

Ningning, on the other hand, was malfunctioning.

She blinked at you. Once. Twice. Brain scrambling to catch up to the words that had just shattered whatever safe little bubble she thought she was living in.

She should say something. Anything.

But instead, her mouth refused to work, and her face betrayed her completely because she could feel the heat rushing up her neck, painting her cheeks in a furious, undeniable blush.

You peeked at her, saw it, and your lips twitched into the tiniest, bravest smile.

"It's okay," you said quickly, saving her from herself. "You don’t have to say anything."

And true to who you were, you didn’t push. You didn’t beg for an answer. You just sat there, picking at the edge of your shoe with a quiet kind of acceptance that made Ningning’s chest ache.

Because you were always like that.

Always giving more than you took.

Always making it easy for her to stay closed off if she needed to.

Ningning didn't say anything that day. She couldn't. Every instinct screamed at her to run or hide or pretend she hadn’t heard. And that terrified her more than anything else because for the first time, it wasn’t annoyance or obligation that kept her sitting beside you. It was the pure, aching need to be close to you.

The walk home was filled with comfortable nonsense chatter from you, mercifully moving on like nothing happened, giving Ningning the space she didn’t know she needed.

But that night, she barely slept. Tossed and turned, kicking herself for freezing up, for letting you pour your heart out and giving you nothing back.

The next day, she found you sitting under the same oak tree you always gravitated to during lunch, headphones in, sketching something in a notebook with that same determined little furrow between your brows.

Ningning stomped toward you before she could talk herself out of it.

You looked up, eyes brightening instinctively at the sight of her, even though there was a flicker of nervousness there too. Like you were bracing for the worst.

Ningning sat down beside you with a huff, tugging at a loose thread on her sleeve.

Then, grumbling under her breath, cheeks already burning again, she muttered: "You’re annoying."

You blinked, caught between laughter and confusion. Before you could open your mouth, she continued, glaring fiercely at the grass like it personally offended her:

"And I think I like you too. So don’t say it to anyone else, okay?"

You froze. Stared at her.

And then your grin broke out, huge and blinding and real, and Ningning had to look away before she embarrassed herself even more.

You bumped your shoulder against hers, laughing under your breath, and Ningning’s heart did something ugly and messy and beautiful all at once.

If she didn’t die from how ridiculously happy you looked, she might actually survive this after all.

From the outside, nothing looked official.

There were no grand declarations, no cutesy nicknames or couple selfies flooding the school group chats. Ningning and you simply… were.

But anyone who paid even a little attention could tell something had shifted.

Ningning, the same girl who once inspired urban legends about her death glare alone, now casually waited by your classroom door every day, pretending she just happened to be passing by. Her earbuds would be in, hood up, expression blank but the second you appeared, all bright smiles and stumbling steps, she'd straighten up, her gaze softening in a way that would’ve made the school population collectively faint if they hadn’t already become weirdly desensitized to it.

She didn’t even try to hide the way she leaned closer when you talked, close enough for your elbows to brush, close enough for your laugh to hit her full force. She didn’t explain why she sometimes pulled you into quieter hallways after class, using the flimsiest excuses ("Too noisy," "Don’t want to deal with people") just to have a moment alone where she could listen to you babble about your day without interruption.

And God help anyone who so much as looked at you for too long.

One afternoon, you were chatting animatedly with a kid from your biology lab, a friendly sort, maybe a little too friendly and Ningning materialized out of nowhere. She said nothing. Just stood there, arms crossed, expression dark enough to send the poor guy stammering out a goodbye before he'd even finished his sentence.

You watched him retreat with wide eyes, then turned to her, half-laughing. "Was that necessary?"

Ningning just shrugged, the faintest smirk pulling at her lips.

It wasn’t until the third time she intercepted someone talking to you (even if it was just someone asking for a pencil) that you finally asked, voice full of tentative hope and unbearable affection:

"So are we… like… girlfriend-girlfriends, or…?"

Ningning, without missing a beat, muttered, "Shut up," and walked ahead of you, leaving you scrambling to catch up with a stupidly wide grin stretching across your face.

Later that day, tucked into the back corner of the cafeteria with her closest friends, one of them nudged Ningning in the side when they caught her staring at you across the room, your head bent over your tray as you enthusiastically told a story to another friend.

"Are you finally going to admit you’re obsessed with her?" they teased, knowing full well the consequences of poking the dragon.

Ningning rolled her eyes but didn’t even bother denying it this time. "...we are," she mumbled, barely audible but entirely certain.

Her friends just grinned like a bunch of proud parents.

It wasn’t long before the rest of Ningning’s tiny, fiercely loyal circle started showing their approval too. In their own weird, slightly terrifying ways.

One of them Winter, who you’d always found a little intimidating despite her sweet face caught you by your locker one afternoon. She leaned against the metal, arms folded casually, and said without preamble:

"You’re good for her." You blinked, mid-stuffing your bag with books. "Um. Thanks?"

Winter smirked. "You’re the only one she listens to, you know."

Heat rushed up your neck, and you laughed awkwardly, shoving a notebook deeper into your backpack just to have something to do. "Honestly, I thought she barely tolerated me when we first met."

Winter’s smirk softened into something almost fond. "She let you sit next to her. That was already love."

You stood there for a moment after she walked away, heart thudding stupidly loud in your chest.

Because maybe you hadn’t tamed the infamous Ningning. Maybe you’d just seen her, the real her before anyone else had been brave enough to try. And maybe, just maybe, she was letting you stay because you were the first person who didn’t expect her to be anything she wasn’t.

You zipped up your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder with a little more lightness in your step, feeling stupidly giddy as you spotted Ningning waiting by the front doors, her hoodie slouched over her frame, her gaze immediately finding yours across the crowd.

Not official. Not loud.

But so real you could feel it in your bones.

You didn’t call it a date.

Obviously.

Because Ningning would combust on the spot if you even hinted at the word.

So, naturally, when you met up outside the little downtown bookstore-café hybrid on a cloudy Saturday afternoon, you greeted her with a mischievous grin and chirped, "Ready for our super casual, not-a-date, gal pal hangout?" loud enough for three strangers nearby to hear.

Ningning gave you a look that could’ve soured milk, tugging her hoodie lower over her head as if it could shield her from the embarrassment radiating off your sunshine soul. Still, she didn’t leave.

Instead, she wordlessly pushed open the door for you, the little bell above the frame jingling softly, and followed you inside like it was the most natural thing in the world. (You didn’t miss the way she subtly moved so she stood between you and the rest of the street before doing so either. Classic grump moves.)

Inside, the air smelled like old pages and cinnamon coffee, and you immediately spun around, practically bouncing in place.

"This is perfect," you gushed, beaming at her. "We can get books and snacks. Best non-date ever!"

Ningning rolled her eyes, but you caught the twitch at the corner of her mouth the almost-smile she always tried to bury around you.

You wove your way through the shelves, pulling her along by the sleeve when she lagged behind. She didn’t complain, not once, even when you spent fifteen whole minutes agonizing over which ridiculous romance novel to buy. (She ended up grabbing the one you hesitated on the longest and tossing it onto the counter without a word while you gaped at her.)

"You didn’t have to buy that," you mumbled, clutching the book like it was a trophy.

"Shut up," she said, already tapping her card against the reader before you could stop her.

You tried, half-heartedly, to insist on paying for your coffee and snack afterward too, but she leveled you with such an unimpressed stare that you caved immediately.

"Fine, fine," you sighed dramatically, sipping your overpriced latte. "You’re the sugar mommy in this very platonic gal pal outing."

The café was tiny, barely five tables squeezed between bookshelves and old couches, but Ningning found a seat tucked in the corner and motioned for you to join her with a tilt of her head. She sprawled back casually, one arm draped over the back of the couch and you, being you, immediately leaned your head against her shoulder with a pleased little sigh.

You felt her stiffen for a second.

Just for a second.

And then she relaxed.

Didn’t move away.

Didn’t even pretend to be bothered.

Outside the window, the sky threatened rain. Inside, tucked in the crook of Ningning’s arm, sipping lukewarm coffee and pretending not to feel the way her fingers lightly tapped against your shoulder in distracted patterns, you couldn’t help smiling to yourself.

When you glanced up at her because you couldn’t help it, you never could, she was already looking at you.

Like you were something delicate she wasn’t sure how to touch but didn’t want to stop trying.

A couple of people passed by the window, throwing curious glances inside. Ningning’s eyes narrowed immediately, and you watched in barely concealed amusement as she shifted, angling herself so she was more in the way, blocking you from view like some kind of disgruntled bodyguard.

"My hero," you whispered teasingly.

"Shut up," she muttered, but her hand brushed against yours under the table, pinky finger barely hooking around yours in a move so casual, so tiny, it might’ve been an accident.

You knew it wasn’t.

You leaned a little closer, your voice soft and ridiculously fond.

"You like me."

Ningning snorted, gaze flickering away.

"You’re delusional."

You just grinned, utterly content to sit there for as long as she’d let you, head on her shoulder, pinkies tangled, pretending it was just a gal pal hangout even though your heart was screaming otherwise.

If this wasn’t a date, you didn’t want to know what was.

It was the last assembly of the year. The kind where everything felt heavy with finality, where the air buzzed with the mixed emotions of relief, excitement, and a little bit of sadness. The seniors were preparing to leave, the underclassmen were already mentally checked out for summer, and Y/N stood there in the middle of it all, wide-eyed and buzzing with her usual, unmistakable energy.

Her excitement was palpable, like it always was. She had her bright, sunny smile on, bouncing between conversations with a few of her friends as they all tried to make the most of the last event of the year. But she couldn’t help feeling like something was different today. Maybe it was the way the room felt more alive than it ever had before, or maybe it was the strange warmth that had been radiating between her and Ningning these past few weeks something unspoken, yet undeniably there.

The last few days had been an odd mixture of soft moments and quiet confessions. No labels yet nothing official but it was clear to everyone who had been watching that something had shifted between them. Ningning, the girl who used to glare at everyone and push people away, now let Y/N walk into her space without hesitation, sat with her at lunch, and shared moments that made the world feel a little less overwhelming. It had always been her, really, but now it felt more real than ever.

The teasing started casually enough, a light jab from one of Y/N’s classmates who, for whatever reason, thought it’d be funny to poke fun at how much time she spent with Ningning. They were joking about how attached Y/N was to her “grumpy friend” when the mood suddenly shifted.

Ningning, who had been sitting off to the side with her arms crossed, listening to the banter with her usual deadpan expression, shot up from her seat with the sharpness of a blade. Everyone around them froze in a collective gasp as she stepped forward, her posture stiff and unyielding, her gaze burning through the group of students like they had crossed a line.

It was so sudden that even Y/N flinched slightly, her heart jumping in her chest at the sudden surge of protective energy emanating from her usually reserved friend.

“You want to say that again?” Ningning’s voice was low, cool, and without a hint of humor.

The teasing student, who had been more than willing to poke fun at Y/N just moments ago, looked like they regretted their words instantly. The room seemed to hold its breath, every student watching in stunned silence. Even the teachers exchanged a glance as if unsure whether to intervene or just let this unfold.

Ningning’s eyes never wavered from the student’s face, her gaze hard as steel, as she crossed her arms with an air of finality. The air in the room felt thicker now, charged with something that was unmistakably protective fierce and loyal, but undeniably soft in its own way.

The student cleared their throat awkwardly. “I was just joking, I didn’t mean—”

“You heard me,” Ningning cut them off, her voice quiet but firm. “She’s mine. You want to say that again?”

It was the kind of moment that made everyone’s heart skip, because it wasn’t just a declaration, it was an undeniable truth, one that had no need for explanation. It was protective. It was possessive, but not in a toxic way. It was simple and raw, like Ningning was quietly, without a second thought, claiming the one person she hadn’t known she needed so badly.

Y/N stood frozen, caught between a mix of shock and elation, and then, before anyone else could say anything, she heard her own voice cut through the stillness, her words a little breathless with disbelief and delight.

“That was the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me,” she said, her heart soaring as she looked up at Ningning, eyes wide with something that resembled awe.

Ningning blinked, looking flustered for just a moment. Her cheeks flushed faintly, and her usual tough exterior cracked for the briefest of seconds.

“…Shut up,” she muttered, trying to hide her smile behind a mask of irritation.

But Y/N knew better. She saw it, the faint, soft curve of Ningning’s lips that she couldn’t hide, no matter how hard she tried.

Y/N grinned, a wide, impossibly happy grin that lit up her whole face. Her hands practically itched to reach out and pull Ningning into a hug, but she held herself back, unsure if that would make Ningning explode. Instead, she just stood there, basking in the small but powerful shift that had just taken place.

The room slowly exhaled, the tension dissipating, but there was something else now, something more lingering and beautiful. The whole school seemed to have witnessed the small but undeniable shift in the dynamic between the two of them, Ningning, who had once kept everyone at arm’s length, had just made it clear she wasn’t letting anyone else get close to her sunshine.

It wasn’t a dramatic confession or some big, showy gesture. It was simple. Quiet. But that was enough.

Ningning stood there for a beat longer, clearly trying to hide the softness that had melted into her features. She finally gave a sharp nod and turned away, her back still rigid but her steps slower than before.

Y/N’s heart raced, and she couldn’t help but take a step toward her, smiling like she was the luckiest person in the world.

As the assembly continued around them, with the same buzzing energy and undercurrent of chatter, Y/N felt it, the undeniable shift. She didn’t need grand gestures or overly complicated words. She just needed this. Ningning. The girl who had been her protector in the most subtle, beautiful ways.

She watched as Ningning glanced back at her one last time before walking off, her eyes softening just a fraction, a silent acknowledgment between them.

And for the first time, Y/N knew without a doubt: This was the beginning of something that didn’t need to be said out loud. It was already theirs.

[assmaster-8000]

im of the opinion that hound should've been kept. or atleast, i generally dislike the change.

that said, i also think a lot of you guys base your ocs too strongly off canon when your ocs are just that: original characters. rss should try to make exploring the world as mc an enjoyable, interesting, and relatively inclusive experience. but that's it. you can only do so much when writing an mc. your ocs or your mcs are your barbie dolls you specifically crafted to do gay shit. if you're living vicariously through mc, then you're bound to be disappointed right off the bat, even in the 1.0 demo with all the discrepancies in thoughts and demeanor.

i know vns can have a choice to somewhat choose an archetype of personality. my current fave, lost in limbo, gives you about 3 personality archetypes to choose from. but touchstarved doesn't seem to be that! mc is more so a designated role you simply help make decisions for!

you literally are not obligated to follow canon. 3 of my main ocs are so non canon-compliant they're just in their own universe. the other 3 are fucking around faggy style. if your oc is of the hound origin then keep them. again. no one is forcing you to retcon your oc just because rss retconned the bg. it doesn't change the fact that you yourself can think up your own interactions, role plays, and general content.

canon isn't scripture. it's understandably upsetting, but again. why are you letting them dictate the direction of your oc when inevitably the existence of your own unique oc, influenced by your likes and ideas, will stray from canon mc from conception. have fun with it.

edit: i don't agree that the exile is same with the hound because the hound should definitely, atleast in theory, be much more social savvy than the exile... but that's another thing. and not my main point

hot take ig but the exile background really isnt that different from the hound background. i feel like you can easily adapt the hound's lore into the exile's template. idk i just feel like the reactions ive seen from the update has been a little much and as someone who has an mc for each background the hound was the hardest to work with cuz i felt like my other mcs were so different from the hound mc

[softsweetsuffering]

Genie Whumpee

Trapped in a vessel that may or may not be a typical object, a lamp? A Vase? A charm of a necklace?

Do they have control over it, and its their own safe space from the person who owns the item, misusing their wishes and them. Wheezing and aching while curled on their plush bed, able to nurse themselves but awfully trapped and alone. Waiting on a broken hope and bated breath to hear another voice call them out from their vessel.

Or is It claustrophobic and cramped, waiting for the sheer relief being called out to make a wish, even if they are never thrilled with what the request may be. To wish pain on others, to have pain inflicted on themselves, especially if they dare suggest they cant make a wish come true. Being kept at the whumpers side like a shiny side-piece in their flow-y silky attire. To be shown off like a prized possession, and then hidden away so no one can ever get their hands on them.

[cuteniaarts]

Behold, my latest and most enamouring new obsession:

Malina, Lady of the Chief of the Northern Water Tribe. As if Red Lotus child OCs weren’t niche enough

[non-un-topo]

Got inspired to make original fiction at the worst time because I'm too busy and can't draw my silly little guys (gn). I'm suffering.

[winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts]

…. Made myself another grilled cheese sandwich and uh. Forgot to start watching. Woops. Uh anyways uhhhhhh. Uh. hm. waugh. I dunno I I think I’m going back to bed now

[happy10thousandyears]

I feel I can’t really shoehorn 😈🚬 into dol (even that’s why I started playing I want to roleplay as a succubus to rizz a nun😭) bc 😈🚬is a very introspective person even more so than her non au counterpart.. like as a succubus she’s the type to use (dubcon) sex as a conversation starter to start discussions on authority/sexuality/politics she isn’t really interested in. Sex itself orz

[hootbon]

TADC Freakshow AU Masterpost

May you be warned, this is a horror/gore based AU. If that’s not your thing then I’d probably not click on the links

+ bubble

(these will be updated when new ones come out! None of them are in a particular order, some of them will be and hopefully soon there will be an actual order)

Go check out @jokerskellington !! They helped me out with a lot of the designs and the concepts :D

Story comics

Abstraction

Aftermath

A little chat

Notes

Stitches

Replacement

Outside

Broken faces

Lost friend

Restart

Looks decieve

selfish kindness

needle and thread

needle and thread pt2

Bloody tracks

I don’t want to.

Rule-Breaker

Eclipse

community choice adventure

Misc

posters line-up

Freakshow&carnival templates

Q&A

Q: Can we make ocs/fanart/fics/etc.?

A: Of course you can! I love getting work of my AU from others, please tag me in them! (Do not send them in my ask box, I prefer it when people post their own work)

———————————————————

Q: Is the community choice adventure continuing?

A: Yes. You don’t need to keep asking me, I have been taking a little hiatus but I will be working on it soon.

———————————————————

Q: Do you have any boundaries?

A: Not necessarily, but my only rule is to keep things chill over here.

———————————————————

Q: can we make Nsfw?

A: I don’t mind, if it’s sexual, please don’t tag me. However, extreme gore and violence is A-okay with me (infact please tag me in those.)

———————————————————

Q: Will X character be in this au?

A: all characters seen in the show will be characters in this AU and more than likely have designs when I get the time.

———————————————————

Q: if gangle abstracts, what would happen?

A: she will abstract, simple as that. Then be replaced with an AI much like her sister.

———————————————————

Q: can or will the virus be cured?

A: no.

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Q: what would happen if x character met y character?

A: I strongly dislike these questions, please don’t ask them.

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Q: art requests?

A: I don’t usually take them unless I like the idea and actively want to do it. 8 times out of 10 I likely won’t do them but who knows.

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Q: Art commissions?

A: I promise I plan to open those up for the people of tumblr soon, I am currently rehashing my prices and setting up my sheets but I will make a post when I am ready!

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #55 - Body Chains]

“When you get drunk on a houseparty and sneak away to fuck.”

Genre: married life!AU, houseparty!AU, Smut

Warnings: switch!Kook, switch!Reader, the switching in this is so good, they get drunk together & dance their hearts out, he is so effortlessly attractive, ah yeah they also have a lil roleplay where they pretend to be strangers meeting at the party (they last ten minutes bahhaha), Jungkook’s tiny waist, he wears body chains + a crop top and oiled himself up, I’m literally foaming at the mouth, Wednesday!JK levels of devoted & needy vibes from him, drunk giggles & making out, he is a very giggly and vocal drunk, he is also a goof <3, consensual & mutual drunk sex, thigh riding, dry humping, cumming in her panties, dirty talk, mutual stripping, nipple play & licking for him, whiney Koo <3, a very quick blowjob ofc, the bodychains stay ON during sex, rough penetrative vaginal sex in Mating Press & Deep Missionary, clit play, his chains hit her clit as he fucks her, creampies, sappy & cuddly aftercare, ah yeah they do all that in Tae's bed JFAJDFJ & he has no idea bruh

Wordcount: 9.4k

a/n: this is based on anonie's idea. But listen. this is lowkey a story about his waist jsjsj like i kept thinking of all the dainty waist koo pics which exist and you besties have no idea how feral i feel for his waist like i am OC in this story, this is practically me jjajaja either way, have fun besties 🧡

You are at Jimin’s place today, getting ready for Taeseok’s (that’s how Hoseok and Taehyung like to jokingly call themselves to your friend group) annual summer party. Most of the town’s party folk is going to be there and you have been looking forward to it for weeks. You still remember how you and Jungkook snuck glances at each other when you weren’t a thing yet and how he got jealous of Taehyung “hooking up with you”. Oh times were so much spicier back then. Not that you would ever want to trade the safety and comfort you have with Jungkook these days, but sometimes you miss the sparks of being in the getting to know each other stage.

This is why you are currently at Jimin’s place, while Yoongi is at your place. You and your best friend are going to go to the party together, while Yoongi and Jungkook will go there as a duo. You plan on meeting each other there and pretending to be strangers meeting for the first time.

The plan is perfect and so sexy.

Jimin is singing loudly, dancing to the song on the radio as he is putting on his eyeshadow. You sit on the floor in front of the mirror, busy with your own eye makeup. You join him in song every now and then, dancing in your seating position and laughing loudly whenever Jimin twerks way too aggressively.

Your days of youth might have passed already, but mentally you still feel like a late teen getting ready with your best friend for the best night ever. Especially this year around where you pretend to get ready to meet “your potential new boyfriends” at the party. Oh it is so much fun to play this silly little game of pretend.

You and Jimin already shared a bottle of sparkling wine, feeling giggly drunk.

“What do you think? Red or peach?” Jimin asks, holding up different kinds of blushes against his cheeks.

“None of them. Pink. It fits with the top.”

“You know what? You are so right, girly”, Jimin says and switches the blush to a pink one. He smiles so his cheeks stick out and applies a generous amount on his face. You busy yourself with applying mascara, pulling a silly face for it.

Jimin finishes first, posing in the mirror.

“Do you think that there’s gonna be cute boys at the party?” he asks for the sake of the roleplay.

“I hope so. I really wanna make out tonight.”

“Yes god, that would be so much fun. I wanna grind on a cute boy. I’m not gonna stop until he’s hard.”

“Of course you won’t. God bitch, you’re such a whore.”

“I so am”, Jimin agrees and turns to dance to his jewellery stand. He drinks from the bottle as he does, singing to the song whenever he can.

You are almost done with your makeup. Only your lips are missing now. Then a quick touch up of your hair and you can stand up.

“What do you think?” you ask, pulling a pose.

Jimin studies you from head to toe.

“Biiitch you look hot dot com. I bet the boys are gonna fight for your attention.”

“Thank you, thank you. I tried.”

“Well you definitely nailed it. You look sexy as fuck”, Jimin says and holds up two pairs of earrings, “left? Right?”

The left is a pair of silver sterling hoop earrings. The right is silver as well, but two studs with a white gemstone in the middle.

“Left. Definitely. The right ones are way too boring.”

“Good choice”, Jimin says and looks at the small stand mirror, “I’m so excited, seriously. Taeseok’s summer parties are always so much fun.”

“I know, right? I’m already so curious about DJ Tete”, you snicker at the name, “I wonder how he’s gonna do.”

“I bet he’s gonna be awesome. What’s the time by the way?”

You check your phone. A picture of you and Jungkook is looking back at you. He is leaning in and kissing your cheek while you are smiling into the camera. Your heart flutters. You are so excited to see him at the party.

“___?”

“Huh?” you let out, meeting Jimin’s eyes.

“The time. Girl, did you just stare at your screen?”

“Sorry, I looked at the pic”, you say, showing him your lock screen, “he’s so handsome. We went on a beach walk with Bam when we took this pic. God, I love this man so much.”

Jimin chuckles, “hey, pretend. Girl, you don’t know him yet. You’re single and ready to mingle.”

“Yeah right. Ah shit, I forgot”, you whine.

Jimin laughs, “that’s fine, I get you. I keep wanting to text Yoongi updates on my outfit. You think they’re almost ready too?”

“Yeah probably. Kook’s been planning his outfit all week. He didn’t let me see it even once. I’m going crazy because I wanna know what he picked out.”

“Same, oh my god”, Jimin exclaims, “Yoongi’s been locking his office since Wednesday ‘cause he has his outfit in there. I’m going crazy. I need to see him or I might pass away.”

“I feel you, god”, you groan, throwing your head back in frustration, “what do you say, should we text them that we’re ready already?”

“No”, Jimin snatches your phone away, “pretend. We’ll meet them at the party. Maybe, wink wink.”

“Fine urgh”, you give up, “now give me back my phone and let me have a sip as well.”

Twenty minutes later, you are in front of Hoseok’s and Taehyung’s place. Hoseok opens the door for you, greeting you with his brightest heart shaped smile. He is in jeans shorts and a neon green crop top which really showcase his defined ab-lines. He matches his nails to the shirt.

“Look at you guys. I’m so happy that you could come”, he cheers and hugs you tightly. The masculine scent pf his cologne tickles your nose.

“Of course we’d come. Your summer parties are the highlight of the year”, you tell him.

“Yeah dude, we’ve been looking forward to it for months”, Jimin says, hugging him.

Hoseok steps back with a squeaky giggle, looking happy about the praise.

“What can I get you?”

“We’re gonna look around for a little if that’s okay. Is Tae already playing DJ?”

“Not yet, he’s by the pool with Joon and Jin.”

“Nice, we’re gonna say hey.”

“You sure that you don’t want me to get you something?”

“Fine, get us your special cocktail. I know you have something brewing.”

Hoseok grins, “that’s what I like to hear”, he says and hurries away in happy skips.

You and Jimin make your way outside to the pool.

Your friends are chatting with each other, holding cocktails. Namjoon and Seokjin are wearing matching fishing shirts, while Taehyung is wearing a fishnet shirt with leather shorts. He spots you first, lifting his hand to wave you over. Namjoon and Seokjin smile, waving as well.

“Hey guys, nice outfits”, you greet them, giving each of them a hug.

“Right? We bought it at a gas station for ten bucks. And look.”

Namjoon and Seokjin do a synchronized twirl, showing off their back. The words “New Dad Alarm” is stitched into the back in neon yellow lettering.

“Why?” you laugh, “you guys aren’t even dads.”

“No, but it’s the vibe that counts.”

“You guys look like a couple of fishing gays celebrating the adoption of their child”, Jimin teases.

“And? It’s the vibe that counts”, Seokjin throws back to which Namjoon snaps his fingers sassily.

“Alright, we’re not gonna stop your fishing gays with an adoptive child vibes”, you joke with a snicker on your lips, “and you? Are you the fishing net to the fishing gays?” you address Taehyung.

“Hey, uncalled for. I’m a hot queer with a nice ass and good tits”, Taehyung says.

“You really are”, you say, nudging his cheek, “sorry, you know that I was only being a dick right now?”

“I do. It’s fine, I know I look hot.”

You snicker, agreeing with a nod of your head. Hoseok appears by your sides with his signature cocktails. He hands each of you a glass, then sits down next to Taehyung.

“Where are your husbands?” he asks.

“Actually, we’re single today”, Jimin says.

“What are you guys playing again?” Seokjin asks with a knowing look in his eyes.

“We’re pretending not to know each other so we can hit each other up”, you explain your perfect plan to which Jimin snickers and nods his head.

“And you guys wanna judge our fishing gays vibes.”

“Hey, we weren’t judging. You guys rock the look”, you defend yourself and take a sip of the cocktail. It tastes sweet with a hint of coconut at the end, “the cocktail’s amazing. Wow.”

“Thanks, I worked on the recipe for a week. Tae and I solely consumed cocktails this week.”

“Really?”

“No, he’s being dramatic. There were a lot though”, Taehyung says and sips on his cocktail, moving his head to the music as he does.

It isn’t long and you find yourself in the kitchen with Jimin. If there is one thing you and your best friend are, it is party alcoholics. You rarely drink in your daily lives, but love getting drunk when going out. It is only natural for you and him to get yourselves another drink once the cocktail was empty.

It is Jimin’s turn to mix the drinks. Taehyung’s current boyfriend is still DJing, filling the beach mansion with bassy techno music. You move to the sound of it, scanning your eyes over the crowd.

Hoseok and Taehyung really know a lot of people. There are faces present which you have never seen before and you have been coming to these parties ever since you were sixteen and Hoseok threw them in his parent’s basement.

It is impressive how there are still new faces each year. Your eyes halt. Wait a damn minute, you know this face. And you know this face too!

“They’re here.”

“What?” Jimin’s head snaps up. “Where?”

“There. Entrance.”

“I can’t see.”

“Girl, there” you say and take Jimin’s hand to drag him closer to the entrance area.

“Oh there! Holy fuck. Oh my fucking god, look at them”, Jimin gasps, grasping your arm for support.

You agree with him. Jungkook has never looked hotter before. He is wearing black skin-tight jeans with a black belt. He paired a very small crop top to it. Silver body chains peak out from underneath it, accentuating the paths of him. Judging by how glowy his honey skin is, he oiled himself up. Holy fuck indeed. It takes everything inside you not to storm to him and instantly take him.

Jimin is having just as much of a hard time. Yoongi is also wearing black skinny jeans and combines a cropped t-shirt and a black choker with it. His belly button piercing peaks out from under the hem of the tanktop, his black tattoos are exposed as well. He seems to have oiled up his toned arms.

“Girl sorry, but I need to have this man”, Jimin says and abandons you to run to Yoongi.

Yoongi, who clearly wanted to roleplay, gets surprised as Jimin flings himself around his neck and kisses him deeply.

Jungkook launches to the side in surprise, gawking at them. Yoongi stumbles at first but soon catches his rhythm, grabbing Jimin’s ass greedily as his lips melt with his’.

Seconds later, Jimin collides with the wall and Yoongi slams his hand on said wall above his husband’s head. Another second later, you can see tongue. Lots of tongue.

Well there go your plans of pretending to be strangers. You huff out air in frustration, pouting. Jimin could have at least tried to control himself.

Jungkook looks away from the violently making out couple, scanning his eyes over the crowd in search of you.

Maybe you could still pretend. It isn’t too late yet.

He meets your eyes. Your heart skips a beat. He is looking at you like a golden retriever having spotted his owner. Seriously, if he had a tail, he would wag it vigorously right now.

He abandons Jimin and Yoongi, making his way to you through the crowd.

You let him think that you will wait for him until he is just a few steps away. His eyes are sparkling like crazy, his lips are curled into a giddy smile.

You turn your back to him and flee into the kitchen. You can’t see his reaction, but you know for a fact that confusion and offense are both on his features.

You hope that he is following you. You swerve past a few people once in the kitchen. Your goal is to get a drink. Vodka with some orange juice as mixer. It’s honestly not a good drink, but it gets the job done.

You are in the midst of pouring in the orange juice when Jungkook appears by your side.

“Hey there.”

You try to ignore him. Your heart is racing like crazy. This is so exciting.

“Uhm. Hey”, he tries again louder this time around, leaning a little closer in case you can’t hear him.

You give him nothing, despite really wanting to look at him.

“Helloooo”, he singsongs, tapping your shoulder.

“One second”, you tell him and finish pouring the juice. You close the package of juice, putting it back in the fridge. And only then, do you finally turn to look at him. You scan your eyes up and down. Fuck he is so hot. You need to devour him. Not yet. You have to stay strong.

“Hey”, he says one last time, giving you a lopsided smirk.

“Hey.”

“Why did you run away from me?”

“Do I know you?”

Jungkook seems taken aback for a second before realisation lights up his face. He smiles, lowering his eyes playfully.

“Not yet”, he leans against the counter nonchalantly, “but that can change. I’m Jungkook, but you can call me JK if you want to”, he says, offering you his hand to shake.

You eye it, but don’t take it. You sip on your vodka orange, leaning against the counter just as nonchalantly as he does.

“JK you say?”

“Or Jungkook whatever you might prefer. I can also go by yours if that’s more to your taste.”

He makes you laugh. Of course he still got it.

“Mine? Well, that’s ambitious.”

“What can I say, I’m an ambitious dreamer.”

“You definitely are”, you say, running your eyes over his torso.

The crop top is just long enough to it hides his waist in certain angles and exposes it in others. He styled his hair out his face and clearly did his eyebrows. He currently keeps his hair shorter and his sides even shorter. He looks to die for. You need to eat him up. You take a sip of your drink instead, meeting his eyes again. He knows that he is sexy. It is obvious in his eyes.

“You are single, aren’t you?” he asks.

“Why?”

“I’d hate to accidentally hit up someone taken.”

“So you’re hitting me up?”

“As of now, I am.”

You smile, “I’m single, yeah.”

“Really? Wow, I could have sworn that someone like you is already married.”

“Someone like me?”

“Someone as beautiful as you. I was sure for a second that someone was already lucky enough to catch your eye.”

“Mhm not yet”, you say, following his body chain until you can study his neck instead, “my eyes are definitely caught right now, though.”

“The feeling’s mutual”, he says, taking a step closer. Just a little one.

You take a step back, feeling tingles of excitement when Jungkook’s eyes darken in the thrill of the chase. He lets out a sexy chuckle, fixing his posture with a roll of his shoulders.

“What are you drinking?” he asks.

“Vodka orange. It’s nasty.”

He laughs, “I can imagine. I’m more of a whisky guy myself.”

“You are?”

“Mhm”, his eyes flit to your lips, “I like the burn.”

Everything inside you tells you to close the distance and kiss him stupid. You need this man like air. Not yet. Let’s play for a little longer.

He seems to struggle too. His eyes keep flitting to your lips and if they aren’t yearning for a kiss, they are on your chest. You purposefully wore a really short and tight dress tonight. It’s definitely working.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“___.”

“You have a really pretty name.”

“Thanks. My parents picked it for me.”

“Your parents seem to have done a lot of things right with your creation.”

You laugh, trying so fucking hard not to call him an idiot. He is so silly and funny and you love him so much.

Jungkook laughs with you, inching closer. You don’t flee this time around, staring at his smile as if it was art. It is.

He puts his hand on the upper corner of the fridge. He is so close like this. His eyes don’t lie. They never could. He is so utterly in love with you even if you pretend to be strangers.

You can’t stop looking at him. Your eyes can’t lie. Even of you tried, they couldn’t. He is the love of your life, even if you pretend to be strangers.

You could never pull off this roleplay perfectly because it’s in your eyes.

And somehow it just makes you and him so excited tonight. To know that even if you were strangers, you were meant to be. The memory of years ago, when you were truly strangers, feels foreign to you and him, but this is what makes it so good. The connection. The memories. The safety and trust you built. The knowledge that once this party ends, you and he can go home together to your doggy son and you can fall asleep cuddling. This is what makes it so fucking good. Knowing that you already found your person.

“So do you live here or are you just visiting?” he asks.

“If you don’t want to, we don’t have to pretend anymore.”

“Really?”

You nod your head. Jungkook laughs in relief, knees buckling as he melts in giddiness.

“I’m so glad. It was so hard to act as if I didn’t know you. How are you, baby? I missed you. Oh my god, you’re so sexy, I can’t stop looking at you. I missed you so much”, he babbles, cradling your cheeks.

You melt into his touch. This is it. This is what matters.

“I missed you too. Let’s never ever do a separate sleepover again.”

“Never. Ever.” He insists, shaking his head.

“At least we held out longer than Jimin and Yoongi.”

“Right”, he looks around the room in search for them, “they’re probably fucking somewhere.”

“A hundred percent they are. Jimin spent like an hour douching. I know cause he told me every detail. I even had to help him wax his ass.”

“This sound like Jimin. But oh my god”, his knees buckle again and he pouts as he talks, “you’re so pretty. I missed you so much, baby. I can’t stop looking at you”, he whines, brushing the back of his hands down your face.

“What should I say? You look so fucking good, holy damn.”

“You like it? I wanted to be really sexy”, he explains and steps back to flex, pulling a dorky face for it.

Of course it makes you laugh because he is the funniest person ever. It also makes you swoon however. His muscles look very good when he flexes even with clothes on.

“What do you think? Do I look sexy to you?” he asks, flexing his arms.

“You look so sexy. I could eat you, I’m serious.”

“Thanks, yeah”, he lets out and finally gives in completely. He giggles, swaying giddly. He drops his head on your shoulder, hugging you against him, “let’s never ever be strangers again, baby.”

“Yeah. Never. Ever.”

He squeezes you and steps back, holding your hand as he talks.

“How was your day?”

“Fun. It was nice acting like teens with Jimin. Yours?”

“Fun too, but I missed you like crazy. I wanted to keep sending you texts.”

“Me too, oh my god.”

He smiles giddily. So he wasn’t the only one going crazy without his other half. He gazes at you, heart racing.

“Are you drunk?” he asks.

“I’m jolly. Why?”

“Because I need to catch up. I’m too sober.”

“Oh? So we’re doing this tonight?”

“Definitely. You and I are gonna get shitfaced.”

“Well if that’s so. Shots. Tequila.”

“Like we did on our first party.”

“Exactly.”

It is Taehyung’s turn to DJ when you and Jungkook finally feel drunk enough to dance. You spent time outside with the others, having to admit your defeat which didn’t come as a surprise to them. Jimin and Yoongi joined about an hour in, looking dishevelled. Nobody dared to comment on their state in fear of Jimin dropping way too graphic details. Taehyung left an hour in to switch places with his boyfriend, while said boyfriend joined the dancing crowd first row.

“Wanna get another drink?” Jimin asks Yoongi.

“Sure, we can get another drink. Seokjin, wanna join?”

“Yes, I do actually.”

Hoseok and Namjoon are playing beer pong by the pool, which leaves you and Jungkook.

“You two wanna join?” Yoongi offers.

You and Jungkook communicate through a look.

“Actually, we wanna go dancing for a bit.”

“Fine with us. We’re in the kitchen.”

And so it happens that you and Jungkook go dancing. Jungkook leaves you for a little while to talk to Taehyung. He seems touchier than normally, which is a telltale sing that he was drunk. Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind, talking to him whenever he isn’t busy mixing.

You’re all alone on the dance floor, enjoying the music and the feeling of alcohol in your veins. Seriously, you aren’t someone who drinks a lot of booze, but man is it fun to be drunk on a party. Especially when you know that you can dance with Jungkook in the near future.

He taps you on the shoulder. You turn, instantly throwing your arms around him.

“Hey. Ew, sorry”, you startle, flinching away as an unknown man looks at you.

“Wow, I’m trying not to be hurt. You are the first girl who reacts with ew when she sees me.”

“Sorry. I thought that you were someone  else. I just startled, that’s all. You’re not actually ew.”

“I’m not? Thank you. You’re very pretty yourself. I’m Frank and you are?”

“Oh. Oh, no sorry. I think you might have misunderstood something. I’m-”

“Hey, I’m back”, Jungkook thankfully saves the day (on purpose because he watched you from the DJ booth and instantly felt jealous). He puts his arm around your waist, giving Frank a very territorial and dark look.

“Your date?” the stranger asks.

“Husband. We’ve been married for years. We’re very happy”, Jungkook snarls.

“Sorry, my mistake then. You guys have fun”, the stranger is thankfully one of the good guys, leaving with a slightly bruised ego but no complaints.

Jungkook turns to you and nudges your cheek.

“Bad girl. Don’t be so cute.”

“What do you mean?”

“I watched you put your arms around him.”

“Okay but mister then you also saw that I instantly flinched back when I saw that it wasn’t your fine ass”, you snicker, poking him.

“I leave you alone for five minutes and you already have men falling over you. Stop being cute or I’ll have to hide you away in my pocket.”

“Okay, you’re just acting adorable now”, you snicker and put your arms around him, hooking them behind his head. “I can’t help it. I’m born cute. Thankfully, I’m married to someone as strong as you to keep me safe.”

He likes it, scrunching his nose.

“Yeah, that’s right. My wifey”, he says and slides his hands to your hips to hold them.

You begin dancing, looking into the other’s eyes as if the universe itself was in them. And in a sense it was. When you look at Jungkook, you can see your whole universe. When Jungkook looks at you, he can see his whole universe.

“Fuck, I love you. You know?”

“I love you too. Now look at these moves.”

Seconds later you are screaming in laughter as Jungkook gives you his best performance. He comes out of it a little out of breath, looking proud.

“And whatcha think?”

“Amazing, you were amazing.”

He grins, pointing at you.

“Your turn.”

“Watch this.”

Jungkook cheers you on, jumping and laughing on the spot as you give him your best performance.

People always say that it is impossible to actually find someone you can be a hundred percent yourself with. That there will always be parts which just don’t match and you will have to live with it. But these people have never experienced what you and Jungkook have. Nobody else matches your goofy freak as well as he does.

And as you and he have the most embarrassing yet free dance off, the world seems to glow all around you. The people around don’t matter. It is just you and him.

The night continues like this for a long time. You take a short break in the middle of it, going to the kitchen for more drinks and a round of beer pong with the others.

Then Namjoon wanted to go on a drunk beach walk to which Hoseok and Seokjin agreed. You and Jungkook returned back to the dance floor. Well, at least he did because you left for the kitchen first to get more shots.

Jungkook is talking to another woman when you come back. You jump into a full sprint instantly, reaching his side within seconds.

“I got our drinks”, you blurt out, shoving it into his hand.

“Thank you.”

“Is this your friend?” the stranger asks.

“Do we look like friends to you? That’s my husband and he is my pookie wookie and I’m his egg and you are not welcome here because we’re very happy.”

“Urgh fine, message received. Bye”, she says and leaves.

“You” you whip around to him.

“I didn’t do nothing. I swear”, he panics, squeaking when you poke him in the cheek.

“Stop being a cutie pie. I can’t leave you alone.”

He relaxes and snickers, “she approached me. I was trying to tell her that I’m married when you came running.”

“Next time I’m taking you with me. We need a leash for parties.”

“Yes please”, he begs, making puppy eyes. Truly you have the most loyal hubby ever.

And so the night continues. You and he get drunker and dance. Taehyung switched places with his boyfriend again when you and Jungkook officially can’t stay apart anymore.

Well, it is you who starts it. Jungkook is very lost in the music, dancing with his eyes closed and his arms up in the air. The position makes his crop top slip up constantly, exposing his toned stomach. It looks so pretty when he stretches.

Somewhere to your right, Jimin and Yoongi are dancing as well. Well, Yoongi is barely moving while Jimin is grinding on him. Sometimes he playfully slaps his butt which makes Jimin laugh and snuggle closer for a kiss. Which in return makes Yoongi smile and kiss him hungrily. They seem very happy doing what they’re doing.

But you can only look at Jungkook and how freely he dances. His smile. This goddamn smile. It’s so beautiful. The lights hue his body into such beautiful colours. Seeing his stomach flex and relax and the body chains swing just does something to you. The song switches. Jungkook yelps and looks at you.

“I love this song! Fuck, I feel so good”, he laughs, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as the music moves his body again. His smile is even brighter than before, captivating you.

You can’t do this anymore. You are so insanely attracted to him.

You grip his waist and tug him to you. Jungkook lets you, running his eyes up and down your face playfully. He hooks his arms behind your head, swaying his hips to the music because he thinks that you wanted to dance with him. His arms rest on your shoulders like this. He is still smiling. Your attraction to him is unbearable.

You tell him to lean down, which he does.

“You’d also feel good if you were inside me”, you rasp, forcing his knees to buckle and his eyes to go droopy at the same time.

“Holy fuck, baby”, he chokes out and melts closer.

“Mhm I mean it.”

You squeeze his dainty waist, tilting your head so your noses touch.

“Don’t say that. Please. Not here”, he begs.

“I can’t help it. You’re so fucking cute. And sexy”, you say, running your hands along his oiled up sides.

Jungkook tenses and shudders, knees buckling and face dropping to the side of your head. His lips brush your ear, letting you hear the very soft moan your touch elicits.

So you do it again. His waist is dainty enough that you can dance your fingers along his sides and trace his ab-lines with your thumbs at the same time. His tummy is sensitive, which means that he gets very shivery from it.

He even has to reach down and stop your hands from further wandering.

“Please, it’s unfair of you.”

You step closer, letting your lips brush his ear.

“Let’s go somewhere else.”

Jungkook’s head shoots up, his eyes are widened. The music changes to a louder song, making his words silent to you but you know for a fact that he currently exclaims “are you serious?”

You nod your head, squeezing his hands. You mouth back a “are you down?” which you know for a fact is useless because Jungkook sucks at reading lips.

He leans closer, “whatever you just said, I agree with you”, he says against your ear, following it with a needy little sound.

“Then come on.” You say and pull him away from the dance floor. Jungkook follows like a love drunk puppy, only having eyes for you.

You and he manage as far as the kitchen and then Jungkook can’t take it anymore. He grips your face to pull you into a kiss.

“Nuh-uh what are you doing?” you stop him with a finger on his lips. He is but your finger’s width away, looking at you with desperate neediness in his eyes.

“Don’t do this to me”, he croaks, sliding his hands to the back of your neck. “Please, don’t do this.”

“I didn’t give you permission, did I?”

“Baby, please. Can I kiss you?” he is pleading. It’s a panicky reaction, his sad puppy eyes are indicator enough.

“I’m not sure”, you say and slide your finger away.

Jungkook chases you instantly, moaning softly. You move away, make him chase you, deny him the kiss.

Jungkook grips your hip and cups your cheek. The inner corners of his brows lift in a beg.

“Let me kiss you. Please.”

You smile. It’s driving him insane that you are. Your fingers on his chest are doing the rest. His heart is pounding, his skin is so overly sensitive that he swears he can feel your touch through his shirt. He is starved. It’s scrambling his brain not to taste your kiss.

“Please just one kiss.”

You shake your head, moving closer just to deny him again.

“Too many people.”

“Then let's go somewhere else”, he says and takes your hand to pull you away from the crowd. He seems to go straight for the stairs, which are off limits to the guests.

“Wait. What are you doing? Where are we going?”

“Somewhere nobody can disturb us”, he says and leads you upstairs. No guests are allowed upstairs, but you both know that you are an exception.

“But the party’s downstairs. We’re not supposed to be here.”

“I don't care. I need to kiss you.” He twirls on the highest step, walking with his back facing the path. His hands are on your hips, leading you with him. He is giggling, face scrunched in the prettiest smile. “We’re little criminals right now”, he gushes and twirls you.

“Oh god, this is very fast”, you laugh, letting him twirl you as you and he sneak down the forbidden corridor.

There is a wall close to you. Something inside him snaps. Your laugh is the reason for it. Jungkook lifts you so he can press you against the wall. He drops you in front of it, taking your wrists to pin them above your head. He is using one hand for it, using the other to touch your waist.

Like this you are caged in and completely at his mercy, moaning softly because you expected anything but this. You look at him with wobbly knees, finding it hard to breathe.

“But you’re my criminal. Gotcha”, he purrs, following it with a sweet giggle. He is truly the most adorable yet sexy person to ever exist.

“Kook, fuck…”

“Do you wanna find out what happens to criminals when I catch them?” he coos, tugging your wrists further up the wall. He tightens his grip, lowering his head at the same time. All you can see is him. His big arms, his oiled up chest, the silver chains, his playful gaze and styled hair. All you can see is him and the lips you ache to kiss.

“Yeah”, you breathe.

“Too bad I’m not gonna show you. Yet”, he says and lowers your wrists. He still keeps a hold on them, using his grip to tug you with him.

“Wow, I see what you did there”, you grumble, making him giggle and skip along the way.

You follow happily, walking a little wobbly because he just completely ruined you with his show of strength. It’s what you get when you tease him and he pins you against a wall. It’s so hot when he does that.

“I just had to”, he says and opens Taehyung’s room, “in here. Now”, he growls the last word playfully, snickering instantly as he slaps your butt.

Jungkook is a very giggly drunk. Which is the most endearing thing ever because he is so cute when he giggles and snickers his way through life.

You enter the room happily. Jungkook closes the door and locks it. He flips the lights on, looking at you instantly.

Taehyung’s bedroom is reached by three steps and separated into two spacious areas. A living area closer to the door and the sleeping area down the stairs. You are below the steps, Jungkook is still on top of them, looking down at you with starving eyes.

“Now we’re alone”, he says, lowering his eyes dangerously.

Holy fuck, you need him to act soon or else you will pass away.

“Don’t be scared, I’ll be gentle”, he rasps and follows it up with a giggle.

“Fucking hell you drive me insane. Come down here and let me kiss you”, you get out, reaching for him needily. You grab his waist and tug.

Jungkook stumbles down the two steps and falls into the kiss with a needy moan. He cradles your face and kisses you as if he had never kissed you before. Deeply. Passionately. For a long time. Wrongs become rights again, pains become comforts and time passes just a little slower. He is kissing you and it feels so good.

Like this, you pull him closer and closer to the bed until your knees hit the edge of it and you fall. Jungkook doesn’t let you fall harshly, cushioning your head with his hand.

“You’re okay?” he checks on you.

“I’m okay. You?”

“Okay.”

The kiss deepens. Your hands are on his waist again, feeling it up. You are obsessed with it. Actually obsessed. Jungkook is halfway on top your lap, sitting on one of your legs so his knee was right against your pussy.

This is your personal heaven. The pleasure is instant. You moan and grind on him within the first touch. It’s almost an instinct to use his muscular thigh to get off. You’ve done it a million times before and tonight you need it to survive. There is so much painful pressure between your legs, your clit might actually burst and your pussy feels so empty. You need to find relief. Please any kind of relief. You don’t even mind that the position is slightly uncomfortable, that you have to bend and stretch your back so you could reach him. All you take in is the instant relief his thigh gives you.

“What are you doing?” he breaks the kiss breathlessly.

“Kiss me, fucking kiss me”, you rasps and pull him back. You keep one hand on the nape of his neck while the other digs deep into his waist possessively.

“Oh my god”, he is mewling between kisses, “you…humping…my thigh. Oh my…god.”

He digs his fingers into the softness of your hip, pulling you against his hard thigh. He moves closer for it.

Your legs shake, you try to find your sanity but he is keeping your body pinned with just his addictive presence.

“Feels good? Baby…you…like?” he asks and grips the nape of your neck. His thumb still reaches your face, caressing your cheek most tenderly. It is a reminder how much he treasures you. That his heart beats only for you.

“Like it so much.”

He lifts his leg higher, keeping the intense pressure going. You are so needy that he might actually make you cum like this. In your panties, after mere seconds. The revelation makes you grind down even harder.

Jungkook was so occupied with mewling and being in disbelief about his luck that he didn’t even realise that the rough movements of his leg were too much for you until you suddenly moan his name and sink into yourself in the distinct way you always do when he is throwing you over the edge.

The kiss breaks because you need to fight for air as your body shakes.

“Holy fuck, are you having an orgasm right now?” he gasps, but you can only whimper and shake on his leg. It is very faint, but he can feel the orgasmic throbbing of your pussy against his thigh.

He grips your waist with both hands and growls.

“You are. Fuck, you are. Holy fuck, this is so hot. You’re actually cumming too soon. Holy fuck”, he babbles and helps you ride it out until you begin writhing in overstimulation.

Clarity comes back to you. The jeans against your pussy hurts. The pressure is uncomfortable. You just lost control. He manhandled you so good that he made you cum.

The realisation sends burning heat to your cheeks, you try to writhe away instantly.

“Hurts, ahm, please.”

“Holy fuck, I’m actually gonna fucking ruin you. You actually came too soon. Oh my fucking god, that only happens to me normally”, he is still babbling, now pushing you further onto bed until you can’t help but shimmy to where he wants you. Nestled into Taehyung’s pillows.

He is on top of you instantly, caging you in between the thing which seconds ago made you lose control. His thighs. He takes your wrists and pins them above your head. His tangling chains swing with each movement.

“How does it feel, mhm? How does it feel knowing that I’ve got so much power over you that I can make you cum too soon, mhm?” he taunts, breathing heavily. You didn’t think that this would affect him as much as it does, but you aren’t complaining. His competitiveness is so adorable.

“I could still make you cum faster.”

“No, you couldn’t. That was barely even a minute”, he is squeaking and giggling.

“Liar. Unless we’re talking about you, then it’s correct.”

“Shut up, oh my god”, he whines, “you’re so fucking mean. It’s not my fault, okay? I spoke to the doctor and he said I have sensitive peepee syndrome okay?”

He makes you belt a laugh.

“Fucking hell, you’re so stupid. What the fuck, just kiss me again, you idiot.”

Jungkook goes into the kiss, smiling and grinning, moaning needily as you run your hands over his body. His heart might jump out of his chest if this keeps going. He feels so alive. So goddamn alive.

You feel the same. Including such burning need for him that it gets difficult to function. It isn’t long that you break the kiss again

“Koo take it off”, you writhe, “take it off please, hurts. It hurts.”

“Yeah that’s awful isn’t it? Cumming in your panties. I bet your clit’s so fucking big and swollen right now. Just begging to be sucked and licked.”

Your clit throbs. Your panties feel even tighter.

“You’re awful”, you croak, “how do you go from being an idiot who says shit like sensitive peepee syndrome to someone who says the hottest stuff?”

“Why? Does it make you needy?” he coos and pecks your lips.

“Please, you proved your point. I’m sorry I teased you.”

He smirks, “yeah, you shouldn’t have”, he purrs and takes your face between two of his fingers, “say it again.”

“What?”

“Sorry. Say it.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“Teasing you so much.”

“Mhm”, he hums, letting go of your face and swiping his thumb over your lips, “I shouldn’t be so obsessed with hearing you say sorry, but I am.”

“I need to have you, please Koo be inside me.”

“I will. I fucking will, just let me get out of this.” He climbs off bed to step out of his pants and briefs. No shoes because Taeseok have a no shoes policy at their place.

He takes off his crop top, finally exposing what he hid beneath. The oil makes his tattoos stick out so well. He also exchanged his barbell nipple piercings for silver nipple shields in heart shapes. White gemstones are glued on the hearts.

His cock is already hard, which means that he is really horny right now. Normally, he takes a little longer to get there when he is drunk, but tonight he seems ready to burst.

He is so sexy.

“You literally drive me insane”, you say and sit up, “come closer.”

He obeys, moaning and giggling as you hold his waist to pull him in for kisses on his tummy.

“Tickles”, he sighs and rolls his head back, “ah, sensitive…”

You purr and wrap your lips around the tip of his dick.

Jungkook’s knees buckle, he grips the back of your head and moans. His pretty cock throbs on your tongue, giving you a taste of his excitement. It’s a little bitter tonight because of the alcohol. You don’t really mind because he is so yummy to you.

You give his cock a very harsh suck then slip off to kiss path back to his tummy. You get on your knees on bed, kissing every inch of his torso until you reach his nipples. You have your hand around his cock, jerking it sensually.

“Absolutely insane what you are doing to me”, you lull and suck his pierced nipples one by one.

Jungkook mewls, arching his back. His cock throbs in your hand.

“I feel dizzy”, he confesses, “please can I lie down?”

“Sorry, I’m already done.” You straighten up, holding his waist as you stare deep unto his foggy eyes.

He pouts, cheeks flushed, “why’d you touch me like this?”

“Because I can.”

“Oh god, you’re so mean”, he whines.

You chuckle, “mhm maybe. Keep the chains on, I beg.”

“Okay, yes.”

“Good boy. Now, my turn.”

You get off bed, taking off your dress and underwear. You keep the jewellery on.

“Oh my god, you are beautiful”, he gasps.

So here you and he are. Bared, naked and vulnerable in the bedroom of another. It was kind of useless to get completely naked, you could have done what needed to be done with your panties pushed aside, but you are too drunk on tonight to think rationally. It’s just you and him. And you and he want to connect how nature intended it. How your souls feel when you are together. Naked, raw and fucking exposed.

“Koo.”

He answers you with your nickname and closes the distance. Your naked bodies connect, seconds later you are back on bed and he is on top of you.

The kissing continues, more intense than it was all night. Because you and he are finally naked, skin against skin. Each touch feels a million times more intense. Each inch feels so much more interesting to explore. You and he can’t stop touching each other, grinding on the other as if it was your destiny.

He is also a giggly drunk, however, meaning that he breaks the kiss way too soon for your taste. He grins at you.

“Now I finally got my kiss.”

“Wow, okay.”

“Yeah”, his smile grows into blinding magnitude, “didn’t even realise that this was my goal all along, did you?”

“No”, you play along and roll your eyes fondly. You love his antics.

“It was”, he giggles and smiles, kissing you as he does, “I told you that I’ll show you what it gets you when you tease me.”

“God Koo”, you let out and reach for him, “god.”

“I’m not done with you though. Hear me? We’re not done yet”, he purrs and adds in a sweet voice, “okay?”

“Yeah please”, you beg, dragging him back into a sloppy kiss.

Jungkook purrs, melting closer. He can’t escape it anymore. This magnetic pull between you and him. He needs to chase it or he will go insane.

“I love this. Oh god, yes”, he babbles, kissing a path to your neck and further down to your breasts. He is so noisy, licking and sucking your chest hungrily. Jungkook mewls as he kisses down your tummy, drooling in anticipation of your pussy. You know exactly what the end goal of this journey will be and it would be fucking amazing to have him eat you out. It really would be. But you are impatient and need his cock inside.

“Koo wait”, you stop him with a gentle tug on his hair.

“What’s wrong?”

“I know you wanna be a good boy and make me wet, but I’m already dripping. Just get up here and be inside me.”

“Really?”

“Yes, fucking hell, really.”

“Oh god, I can’t wait. I want you so bad.”

He climbs between your legs, resting on his elbows and falling into a messy kiss. He smoothes over the top of your head as his tongue dances with yours.

Your legs wrap around his waist, your hips lift in search for him. You can’t be without him any longer, aching.

Jungkook seems to feel the same, feeding you his needy moan just as he sinks his aching cock into you.

You and he shudder, sobbing drunkenly as you hug and grip the other. Reconnecting is everything which matters. This is it. The moment tonight was for.

“I’m all in”, Jungkook is panting his words, voice shaky in both emotion and pleasure, “tell me what you like. Talk me through it.”

“Deep and rough, please Koo.”

“Like this?” he starts off gentle, gazing at your face drunkenly. He pets your head, wanting to soothe you.

“Harder.”

“Like this?”

He is still so gentle with you. Which is cute and it’s so sweet that he tries to be careful, but you can’t do careful tonight. Not when you literally need him to live inside your veins from now on.

You cradle his cheeks, squishing them together until his lips stick out in a pout.

“Listen, pookie. I need you to fuck me like you hate me.”

“But I don’t hate you, I love you.”

“Then fuck me like you love me and want me screaming your name.”

“Okay”, he whimpers.

“Good. Do it.”

He straightens up and lifts your legs to put them against his arms. He folds you in half, with your knees sitting against his arms and your legs in the air. Like this, you are completely exposed to him, able to take his perfect cock.

He picks up a sloppy rhythm, moaning loudly when this makes you yelp up on pleasure.

“Is this it? Do I fuck you how you need it?”

“You’re so good. Ah! Koo! Kookoo aha!”

“I feel fucking alive. Holy shit, just wanna fuck you right all day all week. Shit, I’m going insane.”

Another reason why Jungkook is the one for you and why you think that matching each other’s freak is an actual thing, is how vocal he gets during sex. So much of the pleasure he gives you is from the way he just constantly talks to you. He can be so filthy, so dirty and yet he can also be so loving and gentle. The underlying message however is always how he is devoted to you with his entire being.

“Feels…so….good”, you moan, legs twitching and shaking on his arms. Nothing beats the feeling of him. Especially when he finally shows you what those hips can do. He is honestly so good in using them.

“Yeah, so good. You make me feel invincible, holy fuck.”

He is strong in how he fucks into you, making each thrust count. Because they should. He gets to be with you each time he is inside, this should count something. This should create something wonderful. And in your case, it is pleasure so good nothing could ever recreate it.

“You, you just keep shaking like this. Your pussy’s heaven, baby. Can barely breathe. You get me so good, baby.”

“Closer please.”

He listens to your begs. His body chains, once tangling without a purpose, begin slapping against your clit.

“Jungkook”, you wail, arching your back.

“Too much?”

“No! Keep going please. Your chains! Ah!”

“My chains?” He looks down and moans, hips buckling. “No way, this is so sexy. Holy fuck, I can’t. Baby, ___ baby.”

His hips pick up speed, his drunk moans join yours. And if he isn’t moaning, he is talking. He is such a sexy drunk fuck. Maybe this is why you love getting shitfaced with him. Because you know how much of a yapper Jungkook becomes when he is drunk. And horny yapper Jungkook means you get his unfiltered thoughts constantly.

“Love fucking you so deep, babygirl.”

“Yeah, you’re moaning so sweet. Makes me fucking wild.”

“I’m made to fuck you, that’s what I was made for.”

“Can’t believe this is happening. I’m so lucky.”

“I’m yours, baby, I’m yours.”

It is constant and it is so honest. They’re your biggest turn on. Mixed with his cock loving your sensitive insides and his body chains slapping your clit and you are a goner.

“Koo, I’m cumming.”

“Don't hold back. cum for me, baby.” He encourages you and takes your clit between his fingers to rub her. His chains still slap against you, adding electric intensity to your high. “Does this help?”

You wail, clawing at the sheets and writhing helplessly. This is your answer. Or course it fucking helps.

“Yes babygirl, cum for me. Shit, my cock’s at home with you. That’s it, let me feel you lose it. Give me everything.”

“Please slow please we’re not at home.”

He knows what you are insinuating, pinching your clit because he is awful.

“Please Koo, I need to squirt. Don’t make me do this.”

“Just say the words and I’ll slow down.”

“Slow, please slow.”

“Good girl, using your words so well”, he praises and drops to his elbows. Your legs are around his thighs, shaking as he fucks into you messily. His body chains tickle your chest like this.

He shudders, eyes clouding over in ecstasy. It feels so good the way you grip him for support.

“Can you still go?” he asks.

“Yeah”, you mewl, fingers grasping the back of his body chains.

“I’m gonna cum like this. Can I cum inside?”

“Yes, please do. Koo oh god, Koo”, you beg, twisting the chains for support.

“I love cumming inside”, he whimpers, kissing you seconds later. Quite frankly, he licks into your mouth more than he kisses you, giving you the squeakiest and neediest moans ever.

You bury your hand deep in his hair, clenching down on him to make it feel good for him.

“___”, Jungkook mewls.

“Is this good for you? Am I making it nice?”

“Nice, so nice. I really have to cum.”

“Then do it. Fill me, baby.”

“Play with my nipples, please.”

You fulfill his wish, instantly sending him to nirvana. He squeaks your name, trying to kiss you as his orgasm shakes his body. You kiss him back, trembling from getting all of him. This is everything.

“I love you”, he manages to get out because at the end of the day, this is what he does. He fucks you as hard as he does, gets naked with you, dresses up and goes out because he loves you.

“I love you too.”

“Oh god, it feels so good. You feel so good. I can’t stop cumming, oh god”, he sobs and shakes, holding you close for support. Your fingers on his nipples really ruin him.

“I’m here, baby. Just let it all out, I can take it.”

Jungkook mewls, giving you seven more sloppy thrusts before he finally drops. Just like he always does after a very intense high, he seeks your closeness. He whimpers and sobs quietly, trying to kiss your entire face at the same time. All while his cock throbs inside you slowly.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“I love you too. I love you too. I love you too”, you answer his emotional babbling each and every time, You just really love this man so very deeply.

Every side of him. The rough, dominant side when he is really horny. And the sappy, cuddly side when he comes down. You just love him so much.

“I can’t believe you just let me hit, I can’t believe it.”

You snicker, “why shouldn’t I let you hit, you stupid egg? You’re my hubby.”

“I just. I can’t believe it. I’m so lucky. And I fucking missed you so bad”, he gushes and kisses you.

Oh so deeply and with so much emotion. Jungkook breaks the kiss with a suck on your lower lip. He smiles at you, caressing your heated cheeks.

“This was amazing. I can’t believe it. I feel amazing and wow. Just wow”, he babbles, making you giggle because he is so cute.

“Yeah, right.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Good. Really fucking good.”

“Yeah right. Phew, this was amazing”, he says and guides his kisses to your jawline, “you were amazing. I’m so happy. I can’t stop giggling. Wow, I feel so good. I’ve seriously got the best wifey ever.”

He makes you melt. He knows exactly how to treat you after being so rough with you. His aftercare is the reason why you never feel disgusting or used even after the hardest of fucks. He fucks you that hard because he loves you. The reminder will always heal you.

“You’re so sweet.”

“Was it okay what I did?”

“It was more than okay. It was perfect. I loved every moment of it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. You were amazing.”

“Oh god, I love you.

“I love you too, Koo.”

Your eyes meet. The weight of your situation finally sinks in as you and he lie here in silence, while downstairs the music is hammering against the ceiling.

“So uhm, how are we gonna bring the news to Tae that we fucked in his room?” you ask.

“Maybe we don’t have to. Maybe we can just clean up really well and then leave again without saying anything.”

“Yeah right, as if this will work.”

“We could just blame Yoongi and Jimin.”

You squint your eyes at him for a second. He wiggles his brows.

“No. No, do not tempt me with your evil ideas. We can’t betray them like this.”

“Ugh fine, I’ll tell him.”

Silence. You and he exchange another look, thinking the same thing.

“Only if he notices.”

“Definitely only if he notices.”

“Yep, it’s a good plan.”

“A totally good plan.”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

That One Friend…

Twisted Wonderland: Trey Clover, Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Kalim Al Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, Idia Shroud, Lilia Vanrouge, 

JJK: Suguru Geto, Megumi Fushigiro, Mei Mei

Demon Slayer: Douma, Shinobu Kocho, Giyuu Tomioka, Tanjiro Kamado

Obey Me: Satan, Asmodeus, Simeon, Solomon, Barbatos

Hunter X Hunter: Hisoka Morrow, Chrollo Lucilfer, Shalnark, Shaiapouf, 

OCs: Rhiana(Witch), Wille (Elite Serial Killer), Fantasy Villain

There’s always That One Friend who you pass by in the market across the street or at the cafe you frequent before work. This one friend is always sweet–a kind soul you can trust for some intelligent conversation or to sit in silence with. 

Whether you’re married with kids or dating your long-term partner something in you tends to wander. Your mind drifts to That One Friend who you know would have picked up on your silence. They would have reached over the table to hold your hand as they demanded you tell them what was wrong–letting their worried eyes never leave yours as they searched the troubled depths of your own. 

There’s just something about That One Friend who has you daydreaming about what it’d be like to be with them instead. A dark sliver of you that entertains the idea of straying from where you're trapped but you’ll shoot that down…eventually. While you’re certain you love That One Friend you do love your significant other even if they stopped saying ‘I love you.’ It would be wrong to betray them for That One Friend—who can verbally assure you that they care. Who makes an effort to tell you how much they care about you daily. Besides it’d be wrong to base a betrayal on only a side of That One Friend. 

For all you know, they could be just being a good friend–showing a side of themself that you need. Besides they have their business or another partner or their long distance relationship so even if you were brave enough to confess your little crush to that dear One Friend it would never work out. 

So when it’s finally decided that you’ll shut down these invasive feelings put more time in improving your current relationship. You’ll limit yourself from That One Friend if only to get it into your brain that they’re just not an option. Diving into work, trying with your partner, spending more time with your kids, or just visiting a different place for lunch. You’ll make an excuse when That One Friend starts catching on and hope that they don’t take offense. Finding a steady routine that no longer relies on That One Friend. 

But that all goes to shambles when something terrible happens to your significant other. A car crash, leaking gas pipe, or a mysterious drive-by shooting—they’re gone. Your world–as dysfunctional as it already was—comes crashing down. Since you can’t fall because of your kids or because you worry you’ll never begin to bring yourself up again you have no choice but to rely on That One Friend. 

That One Friend who is at your apartment the second they’ve learned what’s happened. That One Friend who comes along with you to the police station when you promise that there’s foul play. That One Friend who cooks and cleans when you just don’t feel like moving. That One Friend who will even invite you, your kids, or your pets into their home so they can look after you because they are just so worried.

That One Friend who licks their lips as they watch you curl into their bed wearing the hoodie they let you borrow. That One Friend who invites your kids to call them something closer than their first name. That One Friend who reminds you to eat while you obsess over your significant other’s case. That One Friend who encourages you to cuddle with them since you’ve been having so much trouble sleeping. 

That One Friend who has been waiting for the perfect opportunity to get them back on your market. That One Friend who is like a predator lying in wait as it becomes years before you start wanting to date again. That One Friend who will make sure they’re narrowly injured on a train accident so that their emergency contact–you comes running and kisses their forehead because you were so scared. That One Friend who knows it’ll be a matter of time before you accept or propose yourself. 

That One Friend who can’t help but relish in the way you’re attention and love belong to them. 

And That One Friend will do anything to make that happen.

[darqx]

HEEEY MACARENA (ALRIGHT!)

Here's some long overdue BP and HH asks :) I tend to combine the two since there's not as many as the RADs, so this starts with BP and then moves into HH/Gen qs.

BP

MUAH ~ (I actually doodled this some time last year for fun and whimsy, based on those long mouth kiss meme pics XD)

A very quick overview of these types!

Vescordem: Maneaters/cannibals, excessively tall and strong.

Aleores: Minor dealmakers (goods and services). Jaw can unhinge and has venomous bite.

Sollicio: Major dealmakers - soul stealing ability. Often very good looking, has ichor powers.

Voxter: Ability to project 'thoughts' into someone else's mind - you ever have an intrusive thought? Same concept. All have a unique mark across the top part of their face.

Caumacies: Maneaters/cannibals, very strong. Has a third eye which sees only in heat vision - rarely opened simultaneously with normal eyes.

Hmm M or MA15 i think 🤔

You know, i actually have an idea for a game that has nothing to do with anything I'm currently doing XD One day i'll actually have time to make it, maybe. But anyway currently my actual project is i'm planning on making a comic \o/

I AM PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE that i have thumbnailed like 70 pages of this bloody thing and i'm still only in the first quarter of the planned chapters lol OTL Once i finish thumbing the chapter I'm on I plan to go back and render the pages properly before starting to post them :D

...which should hopefully give me a buffer as i repeat the process for the next chapters |D

You know, the concept of my characs being comfort characs for someone will never get old for me. It just tickles me pink ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ This answer will have two levels to it.

It's fine to RP or ask blog with Rire - he's one of my more "known" characs thanks to BTD so as long as credit is given (and it's made clear I'm not running the blog so it's not canon) then it's cool.

I'd prefer if no ask/RP blogs are created for any of my other BP or HH characs, as they are not as known yet. This may be revisited once i actually get the BP comic out but for now it's a no, sorry! (Though, if you are RPing in like...a private Discord with other friends who know who the characs are then I'm a bit more lenient with that.)

The reason for the BP/HH level is that ages ago when I had started establishing my own characs more, I randomly happened to find a forum where someone was RPing as Izm and .D but no one else knew who the characs were and so they clearly thought the RPer was the original artist and creator. Said RPer was not dissuading anyone of that notion. That has stuck with me for forever because at the time i never anticipated that someone would...actually try and do that with an OC. Like, bro srsly?!

One pet peeve for everyone:

.D: Willfully stupid people

Izm: .D smoking. He could care less if anyone else smokes but .D is not allowed on his watch

Marcus: Having decisions made for him without his input

Zeke: "How's the weather up there?"

Wei Ren: When people think he can't understand English cos he has an accent and so they deliberately speak slower and louder

Geez Caleb why are you damn RUDE

Here's one i prepared earlier! 😌

I'm not sure why you included Marcus as a demon, he's a human lol.

HH/More Gen

There are clubs which are created by students but need approval from the adults to exist.

HH is one of the better boarding schools which generally turn out successful alumni. The "obvious problems" we see are not actually obvious lol.

He doesn't need such manipulations.

Thanks! I hope you are inspired to go forth and create stuff! :D

One of the only perks of being a prefect at HH, really :d

Absolutely not lol

↓

4. These types of qs are always amusing to me only because you guys expect me to know but i absolutely do not XDD. Do normal people actually have a fave animal?? I dont even have a fave animal!! Anyway offshoot aside sorry that i can't even randomly assign anything, but if you are interested here is what they might be AS animals lol.

They actually don't have names because they were randomly designed NPCs i drew as like, placeholders |D;

Not including Rire or Nurse Isla:

.D is asexual, Izm is bisexual, and everyone else is straight probably. Caleb and Desmond are violently straight (as in Des is like very 90s stoner bro adamantly vocal about being straight and Caleb will actually try and break your neck for insinuating anything).

I have some female characs but I dont draw them that often as they are more side characs in BP and HH. The ones ive's drawn at least once are Isla (who looks like this, also doodled above), Tish (Des's sister) and Kenzie and Kelly (Zeke's sisters).

Every once in a blue moon i get an ask saying this but whenever i go to check nothing is wrong, so...nothing is wrong they do work |D; As the age old tech saying goes have you tried turning it off and on again? :d

Aren't those kind of things supposed to be...based on yourself??

[quietplace26]

'Soulmate-esque au where certain Earthlings are drawn to certain Teyvatians for various reasons' - @arn9tails

Once again, thank you @arn9tails for another lovely idea for your Genshin au~

Warnings: OCness, cringe, mentions of head wound and blood as MC gets hurt but she's fine.

Soulmate au. Where your Soulmate's voice can resonate with your soul mark over your heart, signaling that they were your soulmate. These types of soul mates are call Soul-Hearts

Zhongli

To be honest, MC didn't have much interest on Genshin Impact when it first came out.

It was just something that existed and that was that.

But then she heard of the next nation that had been released. A nation called Liyue, and for the hell of it, MC decided to watch some clips on YouTube about it.

Liyue was pretty, with its clear Chinese roots and lore. And the Archon was apparently based on a eastern Dragon? Cool!

Feeling invested now, MC watch through various gamers playthrough of Liyue, sucking up the story and such, but one thing oddly stood out...

Rex Lapis. Something about that name... resonated with her. It made MC's Soulmate mark throb over her heart... But that- no, she was overthinking-

MC actually screams when she sees the Geo Archon's body fall out the sky and crash to the ground during the Rite of Descension cutscene.

The whole thing messed with her emotions, made her cry. Her Soulmate mark burned, her HEART burned... before settling down again.

What... What happened?

MC grips her hand were her Soulmate mark was, checking it to see if was still there. It was... But that didn't explain the emotional pain you felt when a game character died!

It wasn't like someone who wasn't real was your soulmate... Right?

MC decides to ignore what happened and continue watching the game play out...

Only she couldn't ignore it any longer when a new handsome character was introduced called Zhongli.

An odd, but mysterious consultant at, of all things, a funeral Parlor?

The more MC heard this man talk in game, went on his fetch quests, and enjoyed his company, the more her soul mark pulsed...

MC's mood actually drops when Zhongli left the Traveler to finish their quest... Really, what was wrong with her?!

One of her hands grips her shirt, rubbing the area where her heart and soulmate mark was.

Glaring down at the area, MC makes a note to make an appointment with soulmate specialist to have hers checked out cause why was it acting like this?

Eventually, MC watches the whole Liyue arc, which leads her to eventually learning Zhongli was actually Rex Lapis, Morax, or better known as Liyue's Geo Archon.

...The same one she randomly cried for earlier in the story because her soulmate mark acted up.

MC shuts her computer off then. She... She needed some air...

...MC never did gather up the nerve to go to the soulmate specialist. It... She didn't know why, but she just didn't.

Maybe she didn't want to be look at like so weirdo for having her soulmate mark act up because of a video game character...

Also... She started Genshin up in her PC. And would you look at that, Zhongli was on one of the current banners...

MC even got lucky and pulled both the Geo Archon and his weapon in only one 10 pull each.

She immediately starts to grind him up and begins to play Genshin for real.

...Cue a few years later, and it's after the 5.5 update. With a level 90 Zhongli as her main, who was also at bond level 10, MC was obsessed with him.

Over the years she also stopped trying to deny it the truth... That Zhongli was apparently her soulmate.

It was something that was never heard of before. A video game character, a fictional character, being a real person's soulmate. Absolute garbage!

...or at least that's what MC used to think in the beginning.

She finally gave up denying it when she happened to meet Zhongli's voice actor at a con a year or so ago.

Unlike when Zhongli talk in game, Keith Silverstein didn't make her soulmate mark react. Which was honestly fine as the man was married to his own soulmate, but still-

... MC's Soulmate, her other half... Was a video game character. He wasn't real and yet this god was her other half...

When it finally truly hits her, MC cried. She cried long and hard.

It wasn't fair... Why did this have to happen to her?! She wanted her Soul-Heart...

But even so... She never told anyone, making up the excuse that she wasn't interested in soulmate which was fine as not everyone could find their destined partner.

But it hurts. She knew who her other half was but couldn't do a thing about it. He was untouchable.

And she was going to have to live with these facts for the rest of her lonely life...

...Or at least, that's what she originally thought as before an odd phenomenon happens and shakes the foundation of earth itself.

Out of the blue, the Seven nations of Teyvat literally spawn into existence on earth!

And if things couldn't get even more insane... It turns out the size difference between Teyvatians and Earthlings were very much different...

Those from the Seven nations were absolute giants! Why were they so big?! In the game it never showed them being giants!

Was it because Teyvat had magic and it effects the humans and the environment there differently?

MC wasn't sure. All she could think about is that her soulmate was real now. He was in her world!

...And even still, so very far out of her reach.

Because come on! Why would Zhongli, Rex Lapis, Morax, the God of Contracts himself, and the Geo Archon, ever want a weak, tiny earthling soulmate?

With these thoughts MC was honestly thinking of keeping quiet but then there's word that a conference was going to be held in her country in a few days.

Apparently, a few of Teyvat's Gods were coming to meet with world leaders there, and Zhongli would be one of them.

MC doesn't think. She grabs her keys and wallet and runs out her house and starts her car...

"...Maybe this was a bad idea..."

MC glances around timidly as she tries to fight through the crowd of curious people surrounding the sports stadium the world's officials were using as a meeting ground with the Teyvatians.

It was the only place big enough where the once video game character could stand at full height...

Currently MC was in the stands trying to get to the lower levels closer to the field so she could actually have a clear view of the conference... and Zhongli.

The closer she got, the more her soul mark burned as the Geo Archon's voice rumbled through the air as he talked with the earthling political leaders.

Her body felt on fire! She wanted to scream and shout that she was here! That she was his soulmate, but both the crowd around her and her growing anxiety was stopping her...

At this point she was considering giving up and going home when bumps into the wrong person, who then shoves her away violently... and she falls.

MC's panicked scream echos around the stadium as she lands awkwardly and harshly on the ground, roughly smacking her head against the hard concrete. As she curls up into a ball of embarrassment and pain, she never notices how the whole place grew eerily quiet... and that earth shaking footsteps start walking over to MC's part of the stand.

MC, who was futilely fighting down the urge to cry as her head began to ache horribly, barely noticed the people around her scrambling away from her curled up form in a panic. But she does notice her soul mark was absolutely blazing on her chest now!

So, as she finally gathers the strength to lift her head, a shadow covers her.

A massive shadow that shallows her whole form.

Blinking tears away from her eyes, MC glances up in confusion, only to freeze as her gaze meets a pair of familiar amber colored eyes that glowed gold every now and then.

Zhongli...

MC tries to stand but immediately starts swaying as her vision blurs. She feels something drip down her face... is that blood? Why was she bleeding? Did she really hit her head that hard? Did she have a concu-

Large, gloved hands quickly, but oh so gently surround MC as her legs gave out from under her, and lifts her carefully up from the ground, bringing her up to Zhongli's face.

Wow... He was even MORE handsome now he wasn't a video game character. Truly he wasn't being fair to MC's poor little heart...

Hm... why was he frowning like that? And why was the world spinning? Ugh... Her head hurts so much...

"H-hurts... Soul-Heart... I-it hurts..."

In any other situation, it was rude to immediately call your Soulmate something like 'Soul-Heart' on first meeting, but MC was hurting, and she was scared.

She wanted her soulmate, HER Soul-Heart!

Choosing that perfect moment to black out from her definite concussion, she misses both the sight and feeling of the Geo Archon shivering at the sound of her voice and eyes widening in pure shock, then both understanding and delight, and then finally, rage.

"...Tell me,"

Elemental energy crackles around the stadium then, making the other Archons stand on edge as particles of Geo energy began forming around Zhongli as he protectively held MC's unconscious form.

He was sheading more and more of his human form. Looking less like the mysterious Funeral consultant and more like the War god he once was.

"Which one of you earthling mortals hurt MY 灵魂伴侣 (Soulmate)?"

Extra Notes

Zhongli thankfully didn't cause a mass Earthling massacre as Venti firmly reminds him that his Soul-Heart was hurt.

Venti: "Your Soul-Heart needs medical attention and YOU. Not you going off and smiting some earthling mortals for her, you Block-head."

And even then, it takes more firm coaxing from Venti to even pry MC from the now growling and more dragony Geo Archon's hands/claws.

Zhongli of course didn't trust any earthling healer with HIS soulmate and instead rushes to return back to Liyue despite the earthlings sputtering that the conference wasn't finished yet!

One quick visit to Bubu Pharmacy and Baizhu, and Zhongli sweeps a now healed and sleeping MC off to meet with the other Adepti, as not only did he need to introduce his new wife and Soulmate to his friends, but he also needed to ask Cloud Retainer a favor...

That favor basically being 'Hey, can you please shrink some clothes down for my new soulmate/wife? My thanks.'

And leaves the Adepti demanding what do you mean 'New wife/soulmate?!' Lord Rex Lapis-

MC would later wake up to not only being in a new place, in new clothes, but also realizing she had been sleeping on a shirtless Zhongli's chest!!!

The resounding squeak that erupts from his Soul-Heart's mouth, along with a blush that rivaled Jueyun Chilis, will forever live rent free in the Geo Archon's mind. His new wife was so adorable.

The Geo Archon would then gently pry small hands from his Soul-heart's face and tug her back over to original spot on his chest. Right where his own soul mark laid... over his heart.

Despite the sheer overwhelming feeling MC was feeling at the moment ('Oh my god I'm touching Geo daddy's chest-'), her own soul mark pushed her to be closer to her Soul-Heart.

She literally curls up over his heart, sighing as the first time in YEARS, since she first saw and heard Zhongli in Genshin Impact, the burning feeling she constantly felt from her soul mark settles and a proper Soulmate bond clicks together...

She knew the two of them, both she and Zhongli, had a LOT to talk about... but this man wasn't making things easy.

Not with the fact he was humming a soft tune, gently stroking a finger down her back, unknowingly rubbing possessively over the spot on her new clothes that had the GEO symbol on it and starts to drift back to sleep.

Ah... but she couldn't. Not yet.

Maybe it was rush of having a now COMPLETE soul bound, or maybe she was still tired and loopy from her near concussion, but MC felt oddly brave. She HAD to do this.

MC yawns sleepily, lifting her head enough to gaze at Zhongli's face before crawling upwards. She ignores his curious look as the God silently helps her on her mission, cradling her small form with one hand.

Once close enough to his face, she places a lazy kiss to his cheek, causing him to freeze... and he immediately starts purring! The fanfics were right! He does purr! And, oh, his eyes are dilating like a cat as well! He was happy!

She, a run of the mill earthling human, nothing special about her at all, was making Zhongli HAPPY!

MC giggles when Zhongli refused to let her move after that, letting the massive God nuzzle his cheek against her tiny body as he purrs out words. She was pretty sure it was the Liyuian equivalent of Chinese but couldn't make head or tails of, however they sounded nice in her ears...

But then he switches back to English, which MC faintly guesses is Mondstadt's own version of English, and he murmurs,

"Mine. My Soulmate. MY Soul-Heart. Finally, you are here with me... I waited for you for a very, VERY long time..."

And those words alone proved to her that she was going to be ok.

[callixpene]

L&DS FUTURE TIMELINE SERIES - SYLUS - Part 1: We Meet Again

This is part of a series I'm writing where all the LIs have their own MCs(5 sisters). The game's current main story is a past life to this lifetime, this series of fics is set on a future timeline where the situation is better for all LIs. All LIs have no memory of any of their past lives but all their MCs have all of their memories. Had to give each LIs' MC a name because they all can't be Y/N😅 Please read if you don't mind.

Everything in this series will be written in the perspective of the LI.

For more context, please read this fic concept here for reference: L&DS FANFIC CONCEPT

L&DS Future Timeline Series - Part 1: WE MEET AGAIN, Other LIs: Xavier, Rafayel, Caleb, Zayne

SYLUS: PART 1 - WE MEET AGAIN

Sylus X OC. Sylus is just a regular crime lord with an evol who built his empire from the ground up. Love at first sight. Soulmates.

Genre: Fluff, Some Angst(because of occurances from past lives)

*****

"The rep from Nexus Innovations is outside Boss, should we let them in now?"

"Let them in".

It was just another regular dim, bleary day at Onychinus' base.

Sylus was preoccupied. He was reviewing the latest report sent to his office.

The clash that went down earlier this week between Linkon's special operatives and his N109 Zone grunts at one of his casinos had resulted in the loss of a lot of their decent weaponry and depleted a great deal of ammunition reserves.

The operatives had discovered his underground Protocore dealings transpiring at the casino's basement, and they had entered the venue undercover.

"Hmmm...seems those fools aren't as incapable as I thought they were." He smirked.

No matter. Onychinus was already in cahoots with the Operations Commander of Linkon's Special forces. This clash was nothing more than a ruse to trick the lower management and the public into thinking that Onychinus' main Protocore-dealing den had been seized and brought to an end.

They all had absolutely no idea that the casino they had seized was only one of dozens of other hidden and undercover locations scattered all over Linkon City.

They're all idiots. He thought.

Still, he didn't expect that those fools would actually put up a decent fight, and there was the matter of replenishing their supplies.

Nexus Innovations was his ideal weapons supplier. They produced some of the best Protocore-enchanced guns that he had ever seen.

As a certified weapons connoisseur, he wanted only the best of the best for Onychinus. He spares no expense.

Matter of fact, he wanted the best of the best of all things, in general.

The ornate doors of his office parted slightly and one of the twins, Kieran, peaked his head out of the small opening. "Do you wanna speak with Nexus now, boss?"

Sylus removed his reading glasses perched atop his nose bridge and placed it on his desk. "Just let him in. I'll make this quick."

"Righty! C'mon lady, you heard him. Step right in!". Luke mused from outside the room.

A lady? Strange. It was always some big, tattooed, overly muscular goon named Bruce that Nexus Innovations would send to partake in these dealings with Onychinus.

Why on earth would they send a lady to the heart of the N109 Zone, of all places?

The doors burst open, revealing the lady, Nexus' new rep.

Sylus froze.

The girl stood still and unmoving at the doorway. She seemed hesitant to enter.

"Good evening.....Mr. Sylus." She started as she gave him a curt nod. Her gaze, unfaltering and determined, was set on him, even as both her palms were fisted and trembling slightly at her sides - it was as if she were willing herself to appear strong and courageous, even as apprehension can be detected from the aura she emitted.

Sylus stood up, slowly, steadily. Though his face seemed calm, within him, so many emotions were brewing, threatening to break the untroubled facade he was intensely, trying very hard to uphold.

Elation. Tenderness. Protectiveness. Adoration.

Desire.

His gaze was dead set on her. His breath was caught in his throat.

He couldn't look away from her. No. It was as if his very own eyes were unwilling to avert their gaze from her.

It was as if every part of his body, every cell in him, woke up the very moment he caught a glimpse of her face. Her FACE - a stranger's. Unfamiliar, but at the same time, somehow, so very, indubitably, familiar.

Suddenly, his head started pulsing. Sylus winced and touched his forehead, while his other hand reached for the corner of his desk to keep his balance.

Then, he heard a voice whispering within his mind:

Touch her. Kiss her. Devour her. She is yours. And you belong to her.

".....Mr. Sylus?". The girl's voice, soft yet resolute, called out to him. It snapped him out of his stupor. The voice silenced.

He gazed at her again. Now, all he felt was joy. So much joy. But he could not, for the life of him, understand why.

He forced his expression back to its 'default' smug look, something he had practiced to perfection for years. Even at this very moment, as his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest.

"You aren't who Nexus usually sends here. But no matter. We'll make do. Take a seat." He gestured towards the seat in front of his desk.

Nexus had sent someone infinitely more precious, the thought came to him intrusively.

The girl strode forward and sat in front of him.

She certainly was a prize.

He wanted to reach out to her, take her face in his palms, and kiss her senseless. It was taking all of his willpower to act normal right now.

Then she spoke. "As you have requested, 50 crates of ammunition, and 10 crates of Nexus Innovations' newly-developed, Protocore-enchanced Single-shots, revolvers and pistols. My men are already outside with the merchandise".

She was shifting in her seat, seemingly uncomfortable. Like she wanted nothing more than to leave at this very moment. She was trying to put up a tough front as well, by adding a bit of sass in her tone.

Adorable. He chuckled. She was acting like a kitten.

"Ahem". She cleared her throat, bringing him out of his thoughts. "Are we good now, Mr. Sylus?"

"Ah, yes. We're good". He moved to open the drawer and took his checkbook out. He ripped the check at the front and threw it at the floor. He wrote a new one, signed it and gave it to the girl. "Here".

She took the check, gave one good look at it and her eyes widened like saucers. "There must be a mistake, this is way over what we agreed.....".

"Isn't that good for you then?" Sylus smirked. "Nexus' goods are undisputable." He paused. "And you're going to get a pretty decent commission from this, right?".

The girl paused. "Not necessarily..." She whispered more to herself, than to him.

Sylus stood up, he looked determined. "Well we can't have that now, can we Sweetie?" The girl abruptly looked surprised at the petname, but Sylus continued. "It seems I have to chat with Nexus' upper management to make sure you get your commission." And he meant every word he said.

"That won't be necessary. The boss, the President of Nexus.....he's my father." She replied.

Sylus' eyes widened. "Oh I see. You're one of Steven Kingsley's daughters. Tell me Sweetie, what's your name?" Because he desperately wanted to know.

There was a rather long pause before she replied. "Nyx. My name is Nyx".

"Well Nyx...." He smirked as his keen eyes noticed her shudder discreetly as he said her name. "I'm going to have to speak with your father then, for your commission." And to discuss another, more important matter as well, Sylus thought as he looked at her again, his expression softening as his gaze lingered on her .

"Look Sir, there really is no point. I don't really care if-".

"Alright then." Sylus cut her off. "Now that we're done here, why don't we go out to dinner? To celebrate our first dealing with one another."

"....... That's a rather unusual reason to have dinner". Nyx replied, exasperated.

Sylus chuckled, a bit louder this time. He had discovered that it was quite entertaining to tease her. He found her irritation, exceedingly adorable.

"Well then Kitten, I guess I'll have to end all dealings with Nexus from this point on."

Nyx stood up, alarmed. Sylus smirked teasingly. Of course she would. Onychinus was one of Nexus' best Clients. Without their business, Nexus could miss out on millions in profit.

Before she could speak, Sylus pressed on. "If Nexus wants to keep this partnership, I only have one deal."

"What?" she replied, a little too quickly.

Sylus' gaze softened once more. "For all dealings from here on, you are the only one I'm authorizing to deal with me for all transactions with Nexus." Then, his expression turned dead serious. "If Nexus sends anyone else, then this partnership is over."

Nyx definitely looked aggravated this time, not even attempting to hide her irritation at all.

"Looks like something's ruffled your feathers, Sweetie", he teased again.

Nyx sighed loudly. "Alright. Fine then. As long as you don't end this partnership". Then, she scowled at him. "If that's all, can I go now?".

"Go ahead, Kitten. See you again, soon". Sylus didn't even get to finish his sentence. Nyx just stomped out of his office and irately slammed the door shut.

Several minutes after she left, Sylus continued to look towards the ornate doors, where he had last seen his woman.

"Mephisto". He called out, and sure enough, a mechanical crow with eyes the same shade of crimson as his, flew and perched atop his wrist.

"I have someone I need you to look after. If anything bad happens to her, if she ever runs into danger, you must let me know, right away", he said, his voice as serious as death.

The mechanical crow cawed aloud, then it fluttered its wings and flew out the window, towards the direction where Nexus' vehicles had just gone.

Towards the woman that his master has now claimed as his.

Hope you liked this fic with Sylus and his MC, Nyx❤️

Next one to be released will be Rafayel meeting his MC😁

Part 2 of Sylus' fic will be released after all fics where the rest of the LIs meet their MCs are released.

Tell your thoughts in the comments.

Thanks so much for reading💜🩵🩷❤️🧡

[wttt-week]

Presenting the official list of WTTT Week prompts!

What is WTTT Week? #WTTT Week is a week to celebrate the U.S. state-themed video series of YouTuber and comedian Ben Brainard, including Table News, Welcome to the Statehouse, Florida Man in SoCal, etc., as well as the small but dedicated fandom these works have inspired!

Are there any rules? The only rules are to be creative and have fun! You can submit any kind of fan work, including art, fic, edits, headcanons, memes, etc, etc. You do NOT need to follow the prompts exactly; consider them more as a rough guide. They’re pretty broad for a reason! The main rule is just to create and to keep this fandom alive.

Please don’t feel obligated to participate; and if you do, it’s okay to only do one or two of the days! If you choose to participate, tag your works as #wttt week! You can post as much (or as little) as you want each day!

Main Themes/Prompts: Based around the different “sub-series” of WTTT:

Day 1: Table News- Take inspiration from a recent or current event to make your own “Table” episode or scene!

Day 2: [State] Joins the Table- Time to showcase your favorite character!

Day 3: Table History- Put a “WTTT” spin on a historic event or theme

Day 4: Weird Laws- They say that every weird law was made for a reason. Showcase some State hijinks/shenanigans that may have led to the creation of some weird laws…(historical accuracy *not* required)

Day 5: Dating Games- Your favorite ship/relationship, whether that be romantic, platonic, etc.

Day 6: “Meanwhile In…”- Anything about non-canon characters/OCs. Cities, other countries, etc. Now’s the time to share your own ideas!)

Day 7: Free Day! (Freedom, baby! 🦅)

What are the secondary/alternate themes?

The secondary themes are to help provide more specific ideas for each day. Do NOT feel obligated to use them. If you have an idea for a day already that has nothing to do with the secondary theme, that’s okay! But they’re there in case you need something a bit more specific.

Day 1: Weather/Natural Disasters

Day 2: State Symbols

Day 3: Folklore

Day 4: Animals

Day 5: Music

Day 6: Regions

That’s all for now! Go forth and have fun!

[crash-bang-boom-corp]

If you wanna write a story with a plural character or protagonist(s), litearally just WRITE IT. WRITE IT!!!!!

I mean, the idea of writing a completely perfect, wholly representative piece of plural media when there's practically nothing like that out there yet for which you can base your references on is a standard you should not hold yourself to. Just write it. Put it on tumblr, put it on wattpad, put it anywhere. please. i beg of you. i desperately want something to read that isn't JUST fnaf daycare attendant fanfic (though it is great highly encourage)

like- asking for advice is great, and I wholly encourage it, but what matters is that it gets written, even if its mediocre rep or mediocre writing or both. Don't think you need to fully understand every plural experience out there before you even try. Like, be educated, be open minded, be flexible, but also be WRITING. (or drawing, or coding, or scripting.)

it is damn near impossible to find media that doesn't exemplify the evil alter stereotype (or at least put a twist on it). i. i just. uuuuugh

please just go, write, code, script, be free, write that plural story, make that plural OC, add that plurality into that fanfic. make that character have a plural game mechanic.

Run wild.

The bar is, and I cannot stress this enough, currently in hell.

I promise you can't fail that hard if youre at least trying your best.

Also, if you need an editor or a peer reviewer, I'm here for it. I don't have a massive writing portfolio, but I at least kind of know what I'm doing and if all you need is a second pair of eyes I can probably do that for ya.

Hell, even if its just for yourself, add a little plurality into it. Every story i write has some plural character in it, and most have a plural protagonist plus plural side characters. Not that they're *good* stories, no, they're terrible, but what I'm trying to say is just write it oh my god WRITE IT.

------------

Look, i'm not saying that NO ONE is writing these stories. they exist. they're out there. I honestly don't know why I even went on this tangent. just, if you're nervous, if you think you won't do a good enough job, just DO IT.

this is your SIGN