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rivalsispunk · 15 hours ago

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Inappropriate (Chapter 4 of ongoing series When We’re Alone)

Best friend’s dad!Declan O’Hara, boss!Declan O’Hara x AFAB reader

Series summary: Journalist Declan O’Hara is in need of a personal assistant as his Corinium career skyrockets, and his daughter Taggie has the perfect candidate: her best friend. What seemingly starts as a professional relationship soon snowballs into something both Declan and reader were never expecting and are no longer able to deny.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, cursing, age gap romance (reader is a few years older than Taggie), mention of male appendages (IYKYK), mention of female orgasm, pussy pronouns, smut smut SMUTTTT, jealous Declan, all the good stuff

Word count: 11.4k

Chapter summary: Happening across your boss pants down only spells the beginning for you and Declan, but neither of you are expecting a surprise visitor to muddy the waters.

A/N: Thank you all for being SO SO patient with this one. I could've easily released this chapter in two parts but didn't want to disrupt the flow of the story (*ahem* smut). This has had a brief edit in my hastiness to publish so any mistakes... Shhhhhh!

Chapter Four: Inappropriate

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t had an inappropriate thought or two about Declan O’Hara in the time you’ve been friends with Taggie, perhaps more frequently since he’d become your superior, but that had nothing on the unadulterated filth that had infiltrated your brain in the hours since leaving The Priory. You can barely recall fleeing down its staircase or the drive home, what unfolded at the forefront of your mind until a self-induced orgasme lulled you into a deep sleep. Now, you’re permanently marred with the visual of Declan — your best friend’s father, your boss — fucking his hand with your name on his lips. You should feel dirty. You should feel violated. You should feel the way you do when Tony Baddingham’s beady eyes drink you in across the office. Like you need a scalding hot shower and to scrub yourself down to the bone. But you don’t. You feel like somebody’s doused you in gasoline and lit a match, your whole body burnt to flames — and it’s exhilarating.

How many times has he done it?

Was that the first time?

And why do you want to watch him do it again?

“Did ya stay late last night?” Declan asks you the next day while you’re sifting through old newspapers in search for more dirt on Rupert, at your boss’ request. “Went straight up to bed once I got back, so didn’t hear ya leave.”

Liar, you think.

“Not too late. Eleven, maybe,” you respond, eyes glued haphazard clippings across your desk.

“Not that I would’ve heard you anyway,” he continues. “Not with the wailing guitar riffs at full volume on Taggie’s stereo.”

Only then do you flit your gaze up to look at the man on the other side of the office. Acting professional after that murky moment with Declan in the hot tub was one thing, but pretending you don’t know what your boss looks like with his pants dropped and cock in hand is a whole other kettle of fish. Under normal circumstances, you’d be awkward. Uncomfortable. But now it’s as if having his secret affection has allowed you the permission to challenge him.

“Do you have something against Bon Jovi, Declan?”

“Under normal circumstances, no,” he responds, lighting a cigarette. “But when it feels like Jon is in bed with me screaming in my ear while I’m trying to sleep, I’m inclined to think otherwise.”

Let alone when you’re dancing around all but naked to it.

“So, can we count you out of belting Livin’ On A Prayer at Bar Sinister tonight?” you chide, reminding Declan of the invite you’d all received from the Joneses. Smoke plumes from his lips as he rears back from a drag.

“Yep. I’ll not be going anyway. Got too much work to get done.” “You always have too much work to get done,” you tell him. “You have to take a break sometime.”

“That’s what sleeping is for,” he counters, a slight smirk rising from under his moustache.

“Oh, come on, Declan. It’s one night.” You’re staring at him all doe-eyed across the room and your innocence, faux or not, does the heavy lifting of your convincing. “Come to Sinister. It’ll be fun.”

It’ll be fun, you’d said, voice all but a whiney beg that zapped like a rod of lightning straight to his crotch. But Declan’s struggling to find the enjoyment in spending his evening watching a revolving door of men try their luck with you, in that impossibly short merlot-coloured dress that’s befitting of Bar Sinister’s name. First, it was Bas Baddingham; the younger, kinder, though no less leery half-brother of Tony. Declan had noticed the pair of you when he arrived, his attention magnetised to you the moment he walked through the door. Bas had you cooped up in the corner by the floor to ceiling wine racks, his frame bowing over you while you chatted.

Declan wasn’t prepared for the twist in his stomach, nor the prickle of heat that scaled his body until it reached his cheeks while he watched you giggle with Bas, eyes sparkling under his attention. It was almost as if he were a child watching someone play with his favourite toy, unwilling to let anybody else have a turn, even though he was well aware it wasn’t his to keep in the first place. You slung another one of your dazzling smiles Bas’ way, and it was enough to have Declan beelining for the bar to order a wine and a whiskey to keep his envy at bay. After a while, Bas was called away to assist with a kitchen catastrophe. He was quickly replaced with Rupert Campbell-Black, all smiles and slime as craned his neck to whisper in your ear. Whatever words he was imparting on you — undoubtedly dirty — saw you blush, a stunning flush of fuchsia flooding up your neck to your cheeks. This goes on for a while — too long, in Declan’s opinion — and every grin Rupert shoots your way, coupled with you staring up at him all starry-eyed like you’ve been touched by the hand of God, has Declan grinding his teeth to near-dust.

He’s too old for you, he thinks. Certainly not good enough. The journalist had already been forced to warn the former Olympian off Taggie. He ought to do the same for you. But who was he kidding? He has no claim over you. You’re not his daughter.

The idea has him downing his whiskey in one gulp.

No, you’re definitely not his daughter.

Filthy hypocritical git.

You felt Declan before you saw him, his gaze like daggers slicing into you as you spoke with Bas, then even more so when while you chatted to Rupert. In all honesty, you had no interest in either men, but you made sure to ramp up the flirty act, particularly with Rupert, because you knew how much Declan disliked him. You weren’t entirely sure why; perhaps you wanted to see whether it bothered him, or how much it bothered him, but you could never get a good enough look at him to gauge where his head was at. You weren’t even talking about yourself, save for Rupert once again trying to coax you into a dinner date. Instead, you’d geared the conversation towards your best friend, whom you knew had a burgeoning crush on her neighbour despite her failed attempts to deny it.

“Are you expecting someone?” Rupert asks partway through gushing over Taggie’s catering at a recent hunt. “Or am I just boring you?”

His question falls on deaf ears, and you scramble to make up for your rudeness. “Sorry, Rupert. What was that?”

“Your eyes have been darting around this bar like you’re watching a tennis match.”

“I’m not—”

“Trust me, you are. It’s not often that a woman can bear to take her eyes off of me,” Rupert peacocks, cheeky grin blooming at his shameless confession. “So, who’s the lucky sod?”

God, he’s nothing if not perceptive, you think, chewing the inside of your cheek. Finally, you clock Declan by the till, his eyes stuck on you while Lizzie Vereker chats animatedly at his side.

“So, are you going to tell me or are you going to make me guess?” Rupert tries again.

Turning your attention back to him, you make a show of laying a hand on the sleeve of his navy sports coat as you lie through your teeth. “It’s nobody. Nobody worth worrying about.”

“Are you trying to burn a hole through him?” Lizzie wonders aloud, cheeks already flushed from her half a glass of wine.

“He’s just… everywhere. It bothers me,” Declan tells her, not taking his eyes off you.

“Bothers you that he’s here, or bothers you that he’s here with her?” She looks at him quizzically before her sight slices to you.

“You know I can’t stand him, Lizzie. Sorry, I know he’s your friend but, God. Always lurking, trying to shag anything with a pulse. Even that might be too restrictive to the lengths he’ll go to.”

“She’s an adult, Declan. A strong-headed one, at that. She can make her own decisions.”

“Well, she’s making the wrong one with him. He's got all the charm of a burst hemorrhoid."

Lizzie swats Declan for his off-colour description. “And what do you suggest the right one to be, then?” She’s staring up at him, lips pursed like she knows something. Like she’s pried his skull open with a crowbar and all of his dirtiest thoughts about you have leaked all over Bar Sinister’s maroon carpet.

“Someone her own age,” Declan decides, as much as it pains him to admit. “Someone that’s not Rupert Campbell-Black.”

“Someone like Patrick?” Lizzie poses, and Declan’s head whips towards her at the mention of his son.

“Patrick? My Patrick?”

“It’s not that crazy an idea. He’s a perfectly lovely boy.”

“He’s also at university, Lizzie.” Far away from you.

“Was at university,” a familiar and all-too-missed voice sounds from behind the journalist, and he just about spills his Pinot Noir as he turns to greet his son.

“Patrick!” Declan pulls him into a hug, clapping a hand against his back. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I had a few days between exams. Thought I’d pay a visit.”

“Shouldn’t you be studying?”

“Come on, Dad. I’m here to have fun. You should try it sometime,” Patrick jests. There’s that word again. Fun. Despite your earlier promise, so far, Declan’s having anything but. “Hello, Lizzie,” Patrick leans down to drop a kiss to her cheek. “So, what are we talking about over here? Though with you Rutshire lot, I suppose the question should be who are we talking about?” he asks, taking the wine glass from his father’s hand and polishing off what’s left of the heady liquid.

Lizzie steals a quick look at Declan, who feigns disinterest. “We were just talking about that glorious young lady over there,” she tells Patrick, pointing with her wine in your direction. “Rather beautiful, is she not?”

Patrick’s eyes narrow as he spots you across the dim-lit room, still deep in conversation with Rupert. “Isn’t that Taggie’s friend? I remember meeting her at my birthday party. Rupert hasn’t eaten her alive yet?”

“Seems she’s one of the only women in this town that’s immune to his charms,” Lizzie conveys, and Declan wonders if they’re watching the same scene; Rupert laying it on thick and you seemingly lapping it up.

There’s a soft, almost curious tilt to Patrick’s head, lip pursed over as he watches the pair of you. “She might stand a chance after all,” he announces, then he’s away as quickly as he appeared, swerving through the crowd as he makes his way towards you.

Freddie is eight minutes through Meat Loaf’s Bat Out Of Hell and the whole bar is loving it. You can’t recall a time you’ve had this much fun out, your throat is stinging from how loud, how ferociously, you’re singing along with the electronics businessman. Freddie’s off-key and lack of rhythm is long forgotten under the haze of alcohol, and even Declan has slid off his broody perch to join the sing-a-long. Before the unmistakable first riff of the song blasted from the speakers, you’d spent the last half an hour chatting to Patrick, who’d surprised his family for a weekend home from university. You’d met him once before at the O’Hara’s most recent New Year’s Eve party. It’d also doubled as his twenty-first birthday, though you’d barely exchanged more than a hello and goodbye on the night and he was yet to venture back until this evening.

The only son of Declan and Maud, and it isn’t hard to see where the majority of his genes descend from. Hickory curls wisp every which way, nougat eyes flecked with black just like his father’s. While Patrick is far more idealistic than Declan, he’s just as foolhardy and exudes the same charm. He’s funny, too, much easier to joke with than his dad, you find, and though he can’t hear what his son is whispering to you over the roar of the crowd, the way you lean into him and laugh between lyrics grates on Declan. He silently curses Lizzie for setting Patrick’s sights on you. He knows — yes, knows — she was doing him a favour, in some roundabout way, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. Especially when he has an unwilling front row seat with you standing between him and Patrick. To compete with Rupert and Bas was one thing, but his own son? Even if the whole thing was complete mental game, it wears on him, reminding him how fucking absurd his affection for you is.

The bar erupts in applause as Freddie wails along with the song’s final chord, his voice landing nowhere near the note Meat Loaf intended. Beside Declan, you cheer for the businessman while Patrick hollers in a way that’s more suited for a football match

“Right then, you randy bunch,” Freddie shouts, his cockney accent impossibly louder under the boom of the microphone. “Which one of yous dares to follow after the King of Karaoke?” The machine, some high-tech gadget flown in from Asia, fades into the next song, and the first couple of lyrics from Don’t Go Breaking My Heart appear on the screen.

“Oh, Daddy loves this song!” Taggie squeals from behind you, hands coming to shake Declan’s shoulders.

“What? No, I don’t,” he scoffs. “Where on earth did you get that idea?” “I’ve heard you singing it in the shower,” she says, shouldering her way between the two of you. “Both Elton and Kiki Dee’s parts.”

Declan playfully swats his daughter. “Oh, shut it, Tag. Can we have no secrets?” Their repartee makes you smile, even more to see Declan without that far-etched scowl he’s often sporting.

“Kiki Dee fan, hey, Dad?” Patrick teases, waggling his eyebrows.

“Not enough to get up there and sing it.”

Nobody else has jumped at the opportunity yet, and Freddie’s still trying to hype up the crowd to find a taker as the instrumental track rolls into the chorus.

“You’ll sing it with him, won’t you?” It takes you a second to realise that Taggie is talking to you. “You were saying on the way here that you wanted to step out of your comfort zone a bit more.”

You shake your head. That’s absolutely not what you were referring to.

“I meant professionally! Not…” you gesture haphazardly to the stage. You hadn’t mentally prepared to get up and perform. It also wasn’t exactly the activity you had in mind when you thought about you and Declan.

“Oh, go on, you two!” Taggie eggs you on, hopping with excitement.

“I’ll give you ten quid,” Patrick wagers, and Declan slices a dark look his way.

“Anyone?” Freddie is still trying, swinging the microphone around by its cable. Then, you feel a hot breath sluice over your cheek. The scent of whiskey emanating from Declan gives away the dangerous amount he’s consumed this evening, which could be why he drops his mouth to your ear.

“I’ll do it if you do it,” he murmurs, the deep timbre of his words racking through you. You rear backwards, nearly headbutting Taggie in the process.

“Are you joking? Two seconds ago you didn’t want to get up there either!”

Declan gives a half-hearted shrug as if to say why not. “It is a duet, after all.” His gaze holds yours and walks a fine line between pleading and defiant. There’s something in it now, a dare lurking beneath the surface, like he’s waiting for you to rise to the challenge. The look hits you sharp, suddenly; a flash of lightning tearing through the dark, and one final daring tilt of Declan’s head pushes your reservations aside.

“Okay, fine.” You snatch his glass from his hand and throw back the rest of the thick amber. A swell of pride burns through his chest, watching you pitch up the courage — even if it’s liquid — to get up on stage. “Freddie!” you shout towards the host. “Start it up again. We’re doing this.”

“Woohoo!” Freddie pumps a fist in the air, winding up the crowd until their cheering and applause hit deafening heights. Between the whiskey and the support of Taggie and Rutshire, you should be amped up enough to get through one measly song. But not even the heat blooming from where Declan’s hand rests on your back as he guides you on stage is enough to distract from the terror gnawing at you.

Despite the small set-up and there only being forty-odd people in the crowd, you might as well have been performing at Wembley. The relentless stage lights make it seem like you’re just metres from the sun and your heart is pumping a frantic, runaway rhythm that just won’t quiet. You blanch, surprised the microphone doesn’t slip from your clammy palm as Freddie passes it to you, the object a heavy weight in your hand. Just below you, Taggie pumps a thumbs up, and Patrick claps supportively. And then there’s Declan, standing beside you, his presence both grounding and electrifying as he leans in, voice low but steady as the intro to Don’t Go Breaking Your Heart starts back up again.

“Just breathe, love,” he tells you. “The worst that happens is we both end up looking like idiots.”

The first four bars pump out of the speakers, and you barely hear Declan apprehensively sing the first line because you’re too focussed on not regurgitating the cacio e pepe you’d consumed at dinner. You’re already a beat off when you murmur through your round of the lyrics, but Declan does a fine job at making up for your lack of stage presence. He’s side-stepping to the beat, putting his hips into it and clicking with his free hand. He’s still rigid in his movements, because he’ll be damned if performing for his peers this way is a regular occurrence, but it’s all he can do to get the attention off you, to calm your nerves without pulling you into a storage cupboard and fucking the anxiety out of you.

By the time the second chorus rolls around, you’ve loosened up enough to follow Declan’s lead, your feet no longer paralysed by fear. You move about the stage, pointing dramatically at Taggie and wiggling your body. The gesture is small, but swinging your hips in a circle has Declan stumbling over his words, his trousers tightening over his crotch.

Ooh-ooh, nobody knows it (nobody knows), the entire bar is singing along now, and Declan’s welcome for the distraction because the song is right. Nobody knows just how far gone he is for you, and this little love song performance isn’t helping anyone. Thankfully, the music begins fading out, signally the end of your time up on stage, and you clamber down the two rickety steps to resounding applause.

“See?” Taggie says when you return to your rightful place out of the spotlight. “It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You ignore your heart leaping at the base of your throat and ignore the urge to steal a glance at Declan, who’s made straight for the bar. Again.

“No, not all bad,” you give in, smiling between your friend and her brother.

You stay for one more drink and a few more songs, finally calling it a night once Charles coaxes half the broadcasting staffers into a Les Misérables sing-a-long. You and the O’Hara’s venture outside, the crisp night air pulling all of the hairs on your arms to their ends. While the four of you wait for a cab, Patrick sloughs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, an almost silent that’s better slipping into the darkness. Lighting a cigarette, Declan tries — tries — to mind his own business. But his ears prick up at the mention of you and dinner.

“What do you say?” Patrick is asking you, voice competing with the sound of tires on wet bitumen and the chorus resounding from inside Sinister. “Tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up?”

The words hang in the air. Simple. Loaded.

You feel Declan’s gaze like a weight on your shoulders. You should want to go on a date with Patrick, right? You’re supposed to; he’s smart, funny and, more to the point, not nearly two decades your senior. But all you can think about is how Declan’s attention makes your skin flush, how he’s standing right there, probably watching this all unfold. You swallow, pressure mounting as Patrick’s invitation still hangs between you. A few steps away, Declan shifts, just barely, but enough to catch your attention. When you glance back at him, he busies himself with his lighter, like its manufacture is the most fascinating thing in the world.

Would he even notice if you said yes to his son? Would he care at all?

You nod before you can second-guess yourself, your words tripping out like they’re not even yours. “Yeah, sure. Dinner sounds good.” Patrick beams brightly as a taxi pulls up to the curb. Declan’s unreadable as he stubs out his cigarette, while the energy pouring from Taggie is hard to miss.

“I’m so excited!” she whisper-shouts, her hands coming to wrap around your left arm as you approach the cab. “If this works out between you and Patrick, we’ll be sisters!”

Behind you, Declan pales at his daughter’s comment.

You and Patrick. Working out.

You and Taggie. Sisters.

The idea makes him sick.

“Is that thing broken?” Declan stabs a finger at the clock hanging in The Priory’s kitchen. He’s positive something is wrong with it. Every time he looks to the wall, the hands appear unmoving, perpetually stuck at eleven-fifteen.

“It’s working perfectly fine,” Taggie assures her father while kneading a mound of dough that would soon become dinner rolls for tomorrow’s black-tie event at the Baddinghams’. “I think the issue is you keep checking it every five seconds.” Declan shakes his head, boots scraping along the floor as he paces up and down the length of the room. “Daddy, can you stop for a moment? You’re making me motion sick.” “Patrick should’ve been home by now,” he says, ignoring his daughter while his eyes flick to the clock again.

“He’s on a date, for goodness sake,” Taggie says, and the reminder of his whereabouts — your whereabouts — feels like an infected scrape across his heart. “Just leave him be. He’ll be home when he’s home.”

Declan barks out a laugh. “Leave him be! Thanks, Taggie. That’s just grand parenting advice. I’ll try that one with you when you’ve got kids galavanting around God knows where at all hours of the night.”

“I’d hardly call eleven all hours of the night,” she counters, and the comment stops Declan at the head of the kitchen bench. She keeps stretching and folding the dough, almost unphased by her father’s agitation. Declan smiles, just for a second, recognising that Taggie’s become far more outspoken, less inward, since having you around. He’d be proud if the situation wasn’t so infuriating.

“I’m just—” he stares at a crack in the timber benchtop. “It’s just getting late and he has to drive back to school tomorrow.” It was a cheap excuse. Declan knew full well that Patrick would have no issues making the two-hour drive back to campus, even on little sleep. In truth, he could roll in at four AM and he’d not bat an eyelid.

But this isn’t really about Patrick, is it? No, it’s you. You, out there with his son, doing God knows what, God knows where. He could feel the weight of it�� the resentment, the jealousy — settling deep in his chest. What if you’d kissed? Worse, what if you’d—No. His fingers tighten around the edge of the bench, knuckles coming up white. His mind deceives him again, and there you are, entwined in your bed sheets with Patrick, your laughter mixing with the sound of something more. The thought burns hot and quick through him, and the longer you’re out with Patrick, the harder it is to shake.

Then there’s the slam of a car door. The whine of hinges at the entrance to The Priory. Declan and Taggie both glance at each other before racing to the foyer to greet Patrick.

“Are you guys waiting up for me or something?” he chides, unravelling himself from his navy scarf.

“No,” Declan is all too quick to answer. Yes.

“So?” Taggie, flour marring her right cheek, is just about levitating with the way she’s bouncing on her feet. “How was it then?”

“Lovely,” Patrick says. “She’s really great. So intelligent.”

Yeah, I know, Declan dares to think.

“Did you kiss her goodnight?” Taggie wants to know, gazing up at her brother like a toddler waiting on a fairytale.

A quiet chuckle rumbles from Patrick as he slings his coat over the staircase bannister. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, my dear,” he muses, thumbing his sister’s chin.

“You know I’m going to find out from her anyway,” Taggie warns him.

“Then you’ll just have to wait until you see her tomorrow, won’t you?”

She rolls her eyes, and Declan’s stomach churns in a similar motion. A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, but Patrick wasn’t usually one to play coy. The only reason for his self-effacement must be because he really likes you. And, as Declan trudges up to bed, throwing a tetchy goodnight over his shoulder to his children, he worries you likely feel the same.

The date was…fine. Patrick was twenty minutes late, but it was quickly made up for with the bouquet of roses, twice the size of his head, that he arrived alongside. After a quick peck to the cheek, he ushered you into the Clubman he’d borrowed from his father for the night. The car reeked of stale smoke and the leathery wood smell of Declan’s cologne. If you allowed yourself, you could almost hear the rasp of his voice and the sharp click of his lighter. Beside you, Patrick chatted away about his literature class at university while he navigated the quiet streets, completely unaware of how his father’s presence seemed to haunt every inch of this car. You bypassed Bar Sinister and town completely, ending up at Le Petit Chêne — The Little Oak — a small, family-owned French bistro fifteen minutes down the road. The food was delicious, the wine even better, but as the night wore on, you couldn’t help but compare Patrick to his father, even though you were well aware it wasn’t fair. Patrick had that same tapered jawline, those dark eyes, but where Declan’s gaze felt like a bolt of electricity, Patrick’s was softer, warmer. The laugh lines at the corners of his eyes were like something familiar, comfortable, like you could just keep moving through the motions and never have to think too hard. But Declan... Declan made you feel every. Single. Glance.

Still, the comfortability and Patrick’s friendliness made it easy to lose track of time as you traded tales from your time at university and compared your favourite novels, arguing over the crux of Of Mice and Men — you find it majorly depressing, while Patrick thinks it signifies hope. You agreed, begrudgingly, to disagree, the squabble wrapping up as your date pulls up outside your flat.

“I had a really nice night,” he confessed when you reached your door.

“Yeah, me, too,” you responded, shrugging off his jacket he’d once again loaned you. “That restaurant was lovely. Thank you again for paying.” “You’re worth it.” Patrick shuffled from one foot to the other, the subtle movement signifying the first time you’d ever seen the eldest O’Hara child anywhere close to nervous. You knew what was coming next, with the way he looked up from your doormat with hopeful eyes, blush pinching at the apples of his cheeks. “Can I kiss you?”

You should want to kiss him, the young, likable man standing in front of you. Going against your better judgement, you said yes and tried to enjoy his soft lips against yours. His touch was gentle, one hand on your waist, the other cupping your cheek, but the spark that should ignite at having a handsome man like Patrick wanting you was missing. It didn’t help that you could still feel the ghost of Declan’s presence, like the heat from his stare was still burning into your skin. No hairs stood on end. No rush of warmth flooded your chest. Nothing like the way you felt when Declan’s gaze lingered on you just a little too long, or when your hands brushed, the way they had that night in the hot tub. The gnawing comparisons followed you into your flat once you and Patrick had said goodnight, and tucked themselves into bed beside you, marking the beginning of a long night of fractured sleep.

The next evening, you find yourself in a sea of black tuxedos and satin gowns, the clink of glasses and low murmurs of conversation filling the ballroom in the Baddingham manor as you celebrate Four Men Went To Mow dominating the winter ratings. Early that morning, Taggie called to hear details from your date with Patrick, revealing that her brother remained mum about the night you’d spent together. You kept it top-line, telling her it was fun and that there was a peck, which was met with squeals from the other end of the phone. Taggie then dished that Patrick had extended his stay in Rutshire and would be attending that night’s festivities, and whatever excitement you held for the party dissipated.

After your date, you’d expected Patrick to return to university, taking whatever fleeting attraction he held for you with him. You found comfort in that, knowing you wouldn’t have to let him down easy and that Taggie would stop prematurely planning your wedding to her brother. Yet, here he is, looking dashing in a three-piece tux and already the life of the party. So, you push any awkwardness aside and focus on the night ahead. Patrick told you he was definitely leaving tomorrow morning—no harm in enjoying his company tonight, right? You can smile, have a bit of fun, try not to think too much about it. The music plays, the conversation flows, and you laugh, genuinely, pretending for a moment that everything is simple. But through it all, you can feel Declan observing the pair of you across the grand hall. No matter the conversations he finds himself amongst, whether it be with board members about his show, or colleagues exchanging gossip about interoffice affairs, a portion of his attention is always attuned to you. He winces every time your laugh rises above the chatter and he’s desperate to know what words his son is crooning to justify such a heavenly sound. There was something in the way you looked at his son — a softness that went beyond polite attention. But who was he kidding? Why wouldn’t you be interested in Patrick? Lizzie was right. Patrick is the right choice, and judging by the smile pinching at your cheeks as you look up at him, a choice you’ve gladly already made.

After two rounds of canapes have made the rounds, Taggie manages to steal a few minutes away from the kitchen to join you and Daysee on the dancefloor for the YMCA, the three of you giggling between the iconic moves as you try to decide which of the Corinium men would be each of the Village People. Despite the low temperature outside, sweat slides down your spine and the hairs framing your face stick to your forehead. “I’m going to get some air!” you shout, gesturing to the doors in case your friends can’t hear you above the music. As the song fades into a Hall and Oates hit, you push through the throng of guests, ignoring the way Tony Baddingham’s eyes rinse over you in your baby blue dress as you pass by him and Freddie Jones in the corridor. When you step outside, the pulse of music and chatter drifts into the cool night, mingling with the quiet conversations and laughter of guests convening among the manicured hedges and flower beds. The air is thick with the scent of damp grass and the faintest trace of woodsmoke pumping from the manor’s chimneys and many roaring fireplaces.

Down the far end of the house, you spot Declan in the shadow of one of the sky-reaching pillars. He’s still, watching the party through the large windows, light from inside flickering softly across his face. It catches the curve of his cheek and the edge of his stubbly jaw in bursts, and battles with the glow of the cigarette he lifts to his lips. Smoke curls up into the night, and only when it shifts does he finally catch sight of you. He doesn’t say a word, just lets the silence stretch between you for a few moments until you ask him, “Are you hiding?”

“Just getting some fresh air,” he says, taking another drag.

“With lungs full of smoke?” you dare.

The cigarette tips towards the sky as Declan smirks. “Watch yourself.” You take the cheeky lilt in his voice as an invitation to join him, your heels echoing off the concrete pavers as you walk. “Are you having fun?” he wants to know when you fall into line beside him.

“Yeah, it’s a great party. I just hope Freddie hasn’t brought that bloody karaoke machine with him,” you say, only half serious.

“I’ll say,” Declan agrees, dark eyes still fixated on the window. Beyond it, Patrick is talking animatedly with a group of six or so guests gathered around him, all of them ogling the young scholar over their drinks like they’re the disciples to his Jesus. As if he’s just relayed the punchline to a joke, his onlookers throw their heads back with laughter, and the man to Patrick’s left claps him on the shoulder, unable to contain himself.

“People are just drawn to him, aren’t they?” Declan wonders out loud. He doesn’t mean it as a test, but he’s curious to see if you open up to him about the night before.

“It’s not hard to see why,” comes your answer, and it’s clear you’re keeping your cards as close to your chest as Patrick.

“He’s a good boy,” Declan forges on, nudging his chin in the direction of his firstborn.

“You told me that boys don’t know what they want.”

“Not my son. He’s known what he wants since he was in the womb."

“And what about you? Do you know what you want?” The question is playful and doesn’t probe in the way you wish you could ask, but it’s enough for Declan to debate answering.

What does he want?

You.

To not want you.

“He likes you a lot, you know," he pivots, as much as the facts pain him.

“Oh, yeah?”

Declan nods. “He was out here not long ago, banging on about your celestial light.” The phrase makes him chuckle while he shakes his cigarette, ash flickering from orange to grey as it drifts to the ground.

“Celestial light?" you scoff, breath turning to fog in the air. "You’re joking. I have about as much celestial light as a flickering lamp post.”

“Don’t do that.” Any amusement in Declan’s voice is gone with those three words.

“Do what?”

“Put yourself down. Make yourself small.”

“I don’t know what you’re—“

“Don’t you?" Declan presses, head quirked. You don't fool me, is what he means. "You don't have to do that with Patrick. Don't have to do that with me."

"And the rest of them? I'm not naive enough to think that I'm more than some young thing expected to keep quiet and look pretty. That's just the way it is. All those men in there," you nod towards the sprawling windows that separate you from the party. "They don't think anything of me. They just see me as —"

“Smart? Witty?” Declan interjects, trying to meet your eye as you toe a stray leaf that's blown onto the concrete. “Beautiful as you may be, you have a hell of a lot more going for you. Believe me.” He’s being earnest, you can hear it in the way his voice dips to barely a whisper. In this way, his words are intentional and just for you.

You abandon the leaf in favour of his face. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Be crazy not to."

"Declan..." You don't know where your sentence is going, or why you step towards him, but you do, the confession — as minor as it is — digging into you like a hook and Declan's eyes, pinned to you, reeling you in.

"So, how was your date then?" The question throws up a wall between you. An unscalable, Patrick-shaped wall. A red flush spreads over your chest and blooms up your neck. You don't want to talk about this. Not really. Not with him.

"Patrick didn't tell you?"

"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, is what he said." There's a strangled edge to his voice, a frustration, like his son being cryptic was the most inconvenient thing in the world. "Did you —"

"There you are, Declan!" The voice has you skittering you across the pavement away from Declan, your heart tugging like you're still attached to him by that imaginary hook.

"For fuck’s sake," he mutters, snuffing his cigarette out under his dress shoe as Tony Baddingham saunters towards you, sly smile poisoning his lips.

"And here you are," he croons your name. "Never far from Declan, are you?"

"I told ya, Tony. She's my right hand man," your boss says, and you snuff the smile threatening to crack across your face at the thought that Declan’s talking about you, needing you. He’s trying to sound aloof, but he hates watching Tony sniff you out like a wolf stalking its prey — circling, picking up every subtle scent of your discomfort, eyes glowing with that predatory gleam.

"So, it would seem. I must admit, your show has taken quite a spectacular turn in the ratings since this one's come along," Tony continues, coming to stand beside you. His cool hand slides too comfortably around your bare shoulders, his fingers pressing into your skin with an air of ownership. You flinch and try to mask it with a forced smile, but Tony doesn't seem fazed, chuckling as he leans in closer, eyes trailing down the front of your chest. "This dress is something rather spectacular itself. How did you know blue is my favourite colour?"

"Lucky guess," you tell him, stiffening under the weight of his arm. Declan's jaw tightens, and while he's trying to stay composed, tension radiates from him in violent, crashing waves. Your eyes dart about as you shift uncomfortably — something that doesn't go unnoticed by Declan.

He digs into his pocket, retrieving a small, stainless steel case that he holds out to Tony. "Cigarette?"

"Ah, I told the lady of the house that I would try to quit," Tony explains, referring to his wife, Monica. "But I suppose one never killed anybody." It feels like a tonne has been sloughed off you when Lord Baddingam unravels himself from you, moving towards Declan to light up.

"Thank you," you mouth behind Tony's back, and Declan returns a wink that goes straight to your warm centre.

Inside the house, the party erupts in hoots and cheers as La Bamba starts over the speakers, and you catch sight of Daysee beckoning you back to the dancefloor from the other side of the glass. Tony begins rattling off competitor numbers and other industry secrets well above your pay grade, so you take the opportunity to slip back inside for another champagne, another dance.

Before too long, you’re swept into a conversation with Valerie and Lizzie — well, more Valerie, who is probing you for gossip from within the walls of Corinium. She’s a total fiend for a scandal. You’d heard through the grapevine that she’d told Monica Baddingham about her husband’s sordid rendezvous with Cameron Cook, and no doubt Valerie was well across the fact that Lizzie’s own husband was spending a great deal of time pants down in his dressing room with his co-host.

“Well, there’s got to be something,” Valerie whines when you tell her you tend to keep your nose out of other people’s business.

“Oh, leave her be,” Lizzie tells her before turning to you. “How are you, love? More to the point, how’s Patrick? I heard the two of you went on a date last night.”

Jeez, word travels fast around here, you think.

“You and Declan’s son?” Valerie clarifies, tweeting at the revelation. “Handsome boy, him. God, Declan’s genes are strong, aren’t they?”

The mention of Declan has you searching for him through the windows, and you catch him just in time to see him storm away from Tony, disappearing from view until he barges back into the party with a snarl contorting his mouth. Most of the guests are too drunk to notice him stalking through the ballroom, or swipe a glass of whiskey off the tray of a waiter in one brisk snatch he doesn’t even slow down for.

“Oh, God,” Lizzie mutters, turning away from Declan as he shoves past your trio, the sleek material of his jacket scraping across your upper arm.

You call after him to no avail before Lizzie touches your wrist lightly, shaking her head. “Leave him, darling.”

“Why?” you ask, searching her face for some shred of a clue. “Lizzie, what’s happened?”

“You didn’t hear it from me —”

“Oh, don’t start with that,” Valerie squawks, her cockney twang exacerbated by alcohol. “The whole bloody country’s already read about it in the paper this morning.”

“For God’s sake, read what?”

“Declan’s wife — Maud — well, she’s got some big flashy part in some famous play in the city,” Valerie is all too excited to tell you, while Lizzie takes far too much interest in the ice melting at the bottom of her empty glass. “Three month run if it all goes to plan, the article said.”

“At least,” Lizzie finally pipes up, crimson colouring her face immediately after. “Poor Declan.”

Yes, poor Declan.

Taggie and Patrick, who are dancing to a completely different song to the one that’s playing, are none the wiser that their father’s just come barrelling through here like a bull in a china shop. And, given that Taggie’s yet to mention anything about her estranged mother, your bet is that they have no idea about her new role, either. Your heart breaks for your best friend, for all of them, which is why you trail after Declan once Lizzie and Valerie have found another unsuspecting guest to pry information from.

The first few doors you try are no-gos: an office space that looks rather untouched, a sitting room decked out with floral upholstery complete with a couple you’ve never met going at it on a sofa, and an ornate guest bathroom. It’s not until the fifth door that you find Declan looking forlorn in the Baddingham’s library. He’s sprawled out in a dark armchair, tall frame filling it out. Legs spread like he’s waiting for someone to kneel between them.

“Hey,” you say quietly, closing the door softly behind you.

His voice is groggy with liquor when he responds, “Where’s Patrick?”

“Dancing with Taggie, I think. It’s nice seeing them together, I know she’s missed him,” you tell him, adding, “You’ve raised some good kids.”

Declan scoffs. “Dunno how. Workaholic father, absentee mother with a chronic wandering eye.”

Your stomach dips. “I heard about Maud. Are you okay?”

“So, everyone’s talking about it.” He sinks impossibly lower into the chair, its leather whining as he splays his arms out to his sides. The whiskey in his hand splashes over the edge of his glass with the movement. “Am I okay? What’s it look like to you?”

He looks like shit, inky hair disheveled from raking a frantic hand through it, but the frustration already emanating from him stops you from voicing it. The man just found out his wife has no intention of returning home anytime soon. The least you can do is give him some grace.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t pry.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Declan snaps. “And I shouldn’t be discussing this with you. It’s…” he ponders on the right word before settling on, “Inappropriate.”

You drag your bottom lip between your teeth. “Because I’m Taggie’s friend?”

He laughs incredulously. “Yeah, because you’re Taggie’s friend. You’re my employee. You’re…” He gestures haphazardly in your direction.

“I’m…?” you prompt, taking a few trepid steps towards him.

Insatiable. Infallible. Interminable. Indomitable. How could he ever settle on just one?

“Insufferable,” Declan eventually mutters, chasing the confession with a slow swig of his drink.

It’s your turn to laugh now. “I’m insufferable? I’m not the one that’s stalked off to sulk and—” You stop, shake your head. “Actually, I’m not going to argue this with you. If you want to sit in here alone instead of spending time with people who actually care about you, people who are actually here, so be it.” After shooting Declan a pointed look, you stalk to the door, but there’s a buzz in your veins that knows you’re not ready to let up just yet, so you turn on your heel to face him again. “And I don’t need you telling me what is and isn’t appropriate. Your moral compass is far too gone for that.” “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Declan wants to know, sitting a little more upright in his seat.

“You’re kidding, right? I heard you, you know. The other night. Saying my name while you were touching yourself.” Declan’s whiskey glass freezes at his lips, black eyes locked on you. “Not very appropriate considering I’m Taggie’s friend. Your employee,” you confess, throwing his reasons for not opening up to you back in his face. Your chest heaves with shallow breaths, like spilling the secret of you watching Declan come undone has stolen every bit of viable air from your burning lungs. You half expect him to deny it, but his face is blank, and his silence is aggravating. Time, what feels like minutes, stretches between the two of you, gazes set on one another while you silently duel across the library.

“Nothing to say, Declan?” you press. “That’s a first.”

Leather ripples through the room as he stands, abandoning his glass on a side table before stalking towards you. He doesn’t stop until you’re toe to toe and your back presses into the cool wood of the door. Whiskey, aftershave and a lick of sweat consumes you as Declan regards you down his nose. “Like I said,” he croaks. “You’re insufferable.”

Your jaw unhinges as you go to bite back at him, to tell him that he’s the one making things unbearable, but then he tuts, jabbing his forefinger into his chest. “You’ve said enough. It’s my turn to speak.

“Hiring you is up there with the worst things I’ve ever done, and believe me, love, I’ve done a lot of shitty things. That night in the hot tub? Ruined me for all I’m worth. I can’t go to sleep without seeing you. Can’t go to work without wondering what it’d be like to bend you over the desk. Can’t bear to watch you bat those fucking eyes of yours at Rupert or Bas or Patrick. Then there’s Maud…” His eyes slip shut as he speaks, a small shake of his head revealing shame eroded in the space between his unruly eyebrows. “Every moment she pulls away from me is a moment that pushes me closer to you, and I hate it,” he confesses. “And seeing you with Patrick is fucking eating me alive, because what kind of man — what kind of married man — wishes the worst on his son over a woman that he has no claim over?”

“Is that what this is about? You’re jealous?”

“Jealous,” Declan repeats. He can only laugh. “Did you fuck him?”

You pull back, head softly ricocheting off the wood behind you. “Did I— you can’t be serious, Declan.” “Answer the question. Did. You. Fuck. Him?”

“Of course not!”

“No?” He sounds surprised, and you’re almost offended.

“No!” you spit. The thump of muffled music vibrates through the door, matching your heart trying to break free from your chest.

“Why not?”

“Declan, stop—”

“No, tell me,” he probes, hot breath fanning over your face. “Is it because he’s not smart enough for ya? Not manly enough?” You divert your gaze, blurred vision locking onto some benign object in the distance, because you don’t trust yourself to keep looking at Declan. You can’t tell what his angle is, whether he’s jealous at the attention you’re getting from other men, or annoyed that you’re not interested in his son. Eventually, he cocks his head to meet your sightline, finger coming to your chin to turn you to face him. “Tell me why you didn’t fuck him.”

“Because he’s not you!” It flies out of your mouth before you have the sense to stop it, breath catching in the back of your throat as you await Declan’s next move. The energy caught in the mere inches between you continues to crackle, but the fire burning under him seems to have subsided as his shoulders fall from their tense fixture, his suit jacket sagging with his muscles. He looks down at you with heavy eyelids. He’s tired. So fucking tired. Of pretending he doesn’t miss Maud, that he doesn’t want you. That of both those unspoken truths piled together makes him feel like a right failure as a husband, as a father, as a boss. He was already broken, and your admission was the final crack that made him shatter.

Shaky hands come to cover your mouth, a barrier to keep any more secrets from polluting the fragile silence that hangs heavy between you. Declan shuffles back, just a hairbreadth. He’s got his head viced, one hand through his hair and the other gripping his jaw. “Fucking hell.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Even if it’s the truth?” He’s just barely looking at you, sheepish. Like he’s waiting for permission. Or a denial. The torture draining the colour from his face is making it hard to tell what’s going on in that gorgeous head of his.

“It’s not fair. On either of us.”

“You’re damn right it isn’t fair. None of this is fair.” He’s back at you, crowding you against the door, one large dress shoe pitched between your platform heels. You’re certain that if he took one deep breath, his belt buckle would make impressions on your stomach. You can see the indentations in his lips, the miniscule patch of dry skin at the corner. “Do you have any idea what you do to me? I’ve exercised more restraint in the last month than I’ve ever had to in my life. You’re fucking ruining me.”

The disclosure has thinned his voice to barely a whisper. Heat bubbles low in your stomach, the pull of wanting to close the gap between you warring with the consequence you know wait for you both if you give in. Still, the way he’s staring at you, with wounded eyes like twin black holes, how could you ever stand a chance?

It’s why you let another confession slip, for better or for worse.

“You think I don’t feel it, too?”

Declan reaches to tuck your hair behind your ear, his hand trailing back to caress your cheek. The minute he touches you, your whole body goes lax, completely pliable for him. “So fucking beautiful,” he whispers, and you can practically taste the liquor on his tongue. Black eyes zigzag across your features while his palm moves to cup your jaw, the pad of his thumb meeting the swell of your bottom lip.

“This okay?” You only nod because you don’t have the strength, the gall, to betray Taggie by vocalising how desperately you want her father to keep touching you in ways you’ve only dreamed about.

“Need to hear you say it,” he urges. “Gotta make sure you really want this.”

He has no fucking idea how much you do.

“Please,” is all you manage to muster before an animalistic growl scrapes up the back of his throat and Declan O’Hara is kissing you in a way that’s going to screw you up forever.

You’re folding like the world’s flimsiest house of cards the moment his mouth hits yours, all teeth and tongues, whiskey, tobacco and him. If it weren’t for him scooping an arm around your waist to hold you to him, you’d be in a heap on the floor. Declan’s faint grunts resonate around your tongue as his own explores your mouth with fervent jabs, only breaking the erratic rhythm to suck your lip so sensually it peels a whimper from you. His arm is scorching against the bare skin that sits above the low-cut back of your dress. His hips flex into yours, and you feel the cool metal of his belt through satin. Then you feel it. His hard length, constricted by his suit trousers, pressing to your stomach. Excitement and desire pulse through you, the feeling of his arousal against you intoxicating, knowing you’re the cause.

“Ya feel that, darlin’? Feel what you do to me?” Declan asks, each word heavy with need and muffled into your neck, tongue flickering over the salty skin there. Your hands twist into his curls while he sucks a kiss into your collarbone. It pulls blood to the surface, most likely noticeable, but you don’t care. Not when Declan branding you feels so fucking good. After a few good moments, he pulls back to take you in, his lips puffy from working over your decolletage. His eyes skim over your face, drinking in every detail — the pale lipstick smeared around your mouth, your glassy eyes, the pink flush staining your cheeks.

“God, look at you,” he murmurs, voice thick with awe. “So fucked out for me already.” Any shame that previously coloured Declan’s features has evaporated, the pity drowning his eyes flushed out by incessant need. He kisses you again, though it’s not so much a kiss as it’s a collision, only slowing down his movements once he’s confident this isn’t one of his fleeting, filthy dreams. It’s been so long since another person has kissed you like this, touched you like this. It’s everything Patrick’s kiss wasn’t, intimate and intentional despite the roaring laughter and music on the other side of the wall.

Declan’s large hand leaves your hip and you immediately miss it as his fingers brush over the cool doorknob. They don’t linger, there’s no hesitation before the click of the lock vibrates through you. You don’t hear it, though. Not over your pulse thrumming in your ears. It’s a purposeful, unspoken decision to shut out everything but the heat building between you, then his hand is back at your waist, pinning you in place against the wood. The other grazes down your body until he reaches the hem of your dress, sliding it up your leg until he has it gathered in a pool of azure at your hip. Your breathing hitches at the feeling of his skin on your hip bone. Under the flood of material, Declan’s fingers find the waistband of your underwear, thumb trilling over the flimsy lace holding your thong together. Your breaths mingle, lips barely grazing while his mind runs ragged with thoughts of what colour the garment is. Black to match that sinful bra you wore to your interview? Red like the pair you were wearing in his dream last night? He hooks a finger under the elastic, pulling the panties away from your body then letting them go so they snap against your skin. You let out a sharp gasp at the sting but he’s already soothing it, one step ahead of what you’re needing.

“I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so fucking long,” he groans. His hand finds its way under the lace material again to glide over the bulb of your arse, kneading the flesh there.

“Declan,” you whine, jutting your hips into his, desperate for friction.

“What’s that, darlin’?” Even with your eyes clamped shut you know he’s smirking, relishing in your neediness. You arch forward again but he’s far stronger than you, his brawniness keeping you in place. “If you want something, all you gotta do is ask.”

“Please,” you sigh, following up with a strangled, “Touch me.”

Declan wastes no time in finding you bundle of nerves, but as soon as he’s there, it’s like time slows to an excruciating speed, his fingers featherlight over the thin material. You’re already soaked. Have been since he started berating you about how much him wanting you was fucking him up. Declan knows it too, groaning as he applies more pressure, your slick seeping around the pad of his finger.

“Christ, you’re wet,” he grunts. “Is all this f’me?” Your head cants incessantly, mind and heart and pussy chanting more, more, more. But it doesn’t come. He just holds his finger to you, steady, waiting, like a finger on the trigger of a gun. The only relief you’re getting is from you squirming under his touch, and even then, it’s just not hitting in the way you know Declan could if he would just. Move.

A chuckle rumbles in his chest and as sexy as it sounds on a regular day, under the circumstances, it almost has you seeing red. “Oh, there she is,” Declan says when you finally look at him. “Needy little thing, aren’t ya?” His eyes are glued to yours, half-lidded with a grin tugging under his moustache. It’s not a challenge. It’s a promise. He has you right where he wants you, and you can feel it in the air, thick with his quiet confidence. Your mouth goes slack when Declan removes his finger from the outside of your underwear, instead using it to push the material aside, granting himself full access to your swollen centre. Then it’s back to square one: unhurried, languid movements as he traces your folds. Up and around, not once sliding over your clit despite your unintelligible splutterings begging him to do so. Declan’s lips fall back over yours with a quiet, charged kiss as his hand comes to cup your mound completely, his tongue seeking purchase against your own. You stay like that for a moment, tongues battling each other, his hand covering your pussy like he already owns it. Every single one of your nerve endings is alight, every inch of your skin acutely aware of his presence as his moustache grazes your top lip, as his middle finger ever so slightly dips between your folds. Then finally, finally, he slides a thick finger into you and you clench around him, the unfiltered pleasure enough to never want to be without the feeling of him inside you again. You both moan, the sound disappearing into your kiss, your hand disappearing into his hair, holding him to you.

The hard peaks of your nipples create little blue buds against your dress, and they rub against Declan’s chest while he drags his finger from your body, in and out, in and out, each movement as deliciously slow as the last.

After a minute, he breaks your kiss, letting his forehead rest against your own. “You’re so tight,” he grits, adding another finger despite his observation. The new addition allows the palm of his hand to jut against your clit, and the friction almost has you levitating. “Oh, you like that, huh?” Declan teases, pushing into you harder, faster. The change in pace has you jerking like a live wire. Totally unhinged, the world feels like it’s spinning off its axis, more dangerously the longer he keeps that unforgiving pace. All this pent up frustration and teasing and longing bucks you closer to the edge, pins and needles edging their way from your toes up your body until—

Knock knock knock.

The door thumps into your back, scaring your orgasm away with it. Declan’s fingers freeze inside you, your clit pulsating against his palm, your eyes locked on one another as you will away the intrusion. The doorknob jostles next and all you can think is thank God Declan locked it when he did.

“‘S occupied!” he growls.

“Dad? Is that you?” Patrick.

The whites of your eyes blow out as you glare at Declan, panicked by the arrival of his son — your date, not twenty-four hours earlier — as you conjugate just mere inches away. Declan lifts his free hand to his lips, pressing a single finger into the supple flesh. Shh.

“Dad? Are you in here?” Patrick asks again, trying the door for a second time.

“Yeah, son. You alright?” Declan responds, and your eyes go impossibly wider at him answering while his fingers are still buried in your pussy. While his steely length presses into the crease between your thigh and crotch.

“Are you alright? You’ve been gone a while.”

Declan’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, leaving a devilish smile in its wake. “Everything’s grand,” he drawls, fingers slipping out of you to stake claim on your clit. The subtle movement yanks a gasp from you, a mix of embarrassment and arousal pumping through you as Declan begins to trace circles there. You’re caught between wanting to disappear and wanting more as Declan keeps talking, Irish accent laden with lust. “Just needed a few minutes to myself. Needed to…” he pauses, licking a stripe up the side of your neck before latching his teeth onto your earlobe for a hair of a second, “Decompress.”

“Mmm,” you moan, too loudly, because Declan claps a hand over your mouth to keep any more desperate sounds slipping from under the door. There’s a moment pause, and you panic, thinking you’ve given the pair of you away, but then Patrick is chattering away again, asking after you.

“Have you seen her? Could’ve sworn she came down this way.”

“Nope,” Declan lies, picking up pace as he strums your clit, like he’s getting off on holding a conversation while trying to take you to the brink of no return. “Haven’t seen her.”

The knot in your stomach mounts again, your whole body buzzing at high frequency. Patrick says something else, a goodbye, you think, but for all you know he could be speaking gibberish, the rush of blood to your ears blocking out anything that’s not Declan.

The slight savour of sweat he’s worked up and how it tangoes with the cigarette smoke still lingering on his suit jacket.

How his mouth hangs slightly open, his tongue resting loosely against his bottom row of teeth, completely dumb for you.

The grunt wrapped in a sigh that pushes out of him when he plows two thickset fingers inside you again, and the matching moan you hum into the palm of his hand, the metal of his wedding ring cool against your upper lip.

“You’re making me crazy,” he says lowly. “Turnin’ me into someone who steals his son’s girl.” Your response comes out distorted, muffled against his skin. Declan’s hand slips from your mouth, finding its way to the nape of your neck and tangling its fingers into the frizzy hair there, the slight tension making your scalp tingle. “You got something to say, darlin’?”

“Not… his… girl,” you pant, words punctuated by Declan pumping his fingers impossibly deeper into your cunt.

“You’re damn right you’re not his girl.”

The subtext is clear. You’re not Patrick’s. You’re his. The feminist in you should balk at the insinuation but who are you kidding? Every stolen glance. Every car ride. Every solo orgasm you’ve yanked from yourself in the dead of night to the thought of him. Everything has led you to this.

Your mascara flakes over the apples of your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut, Declan’s fingers expertly twisting and careening until the coil in the pit of your stomach is wound so tight you think you’re going to crack in two.

“Fuck, Declan,” you mewl, gripping his biceps to keep yourself steady. “So close.”

“Look at me, love. Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come.”

You could’ve fallen apart at those words alone, but you do what Declan says, gaze fluttering to his face as the butt of his hand against your clit works in tandem with his fingers until there’s a sharp and sudden snap, breaking you apart in a violent burst.

“Fuck, fuck, fu—” your expletives are swaddled by his hand yet again, eyes pricking with tears as you chase your high. Even through the blur, you see Declan grinning down at you with pride, nodding, quietly egging you on.

“That’s it, darlin’. Good. Good girl,” he whispers, thumb at the back of your head stroking tiny circles while his opposite fingers slow down with your breathing. It’s only when you stop convulsing completely that he drops his hand from your face. Your feet scream in pain as you come back to yourself, the weight of digging your heels in to keep you upright making itself known. Meanwhile, Declan slips himself from you, gently rearranging your underwear over your folds and allowing the skirt of your dress to float back down your legs. He shuffles backwards, allowing you space to gather yourself, to ground yourself, breaths still shaky as you step away from the door you’d come to be far too intimate with. You don’t speak, not yet, just watch as Declan peers down at his right hand that’s glistening with your slick, then to his left hand, where his wedding band glints under the library’s chandelier.

“Are you—” okay, is what you intend to ask, but Declan cuts you off, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets.

“I should go find Taggie and Patrick. Can’t have them hearing about their mum through some idle party gossip,” he says, voice steady but marred with a tinge of uncertainty, as if he’s trying to make sense of everything. He maneuvers around you awkwardly, all that cockiness from moments ago melted away. He pauses at the door, the heavy silence between you so palpable. His hand rests on the doorknob, but he doesn’t turn it. “This was…” he trails off, eyes searching the room for the right word.

"Yeah," is all you can manage, because you can’t find the words either. For how he just made you feel like every single one of your synapses was on fire. For the way he's treating you now, all cool and distant, like he's casually asking you to grab him a coffee. Declan forces a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and nods. Just once, stiff. With one final glance, he slips out of sight, laughter and clinking glasses and whumping music replacing Declan in the room before the door clicks closed behind him. And almost immediately, you feel irrelevant and unsure of what to do next. At least, you think it best to let a few minutes pass before you leave the library, so you shuffle over to the large mirror hanging above the fireplace to take in your dishevelled form. You look utterly wrecked, all puffy lips and smudged mascara. All at the hands of Declan O’Hara.

Oh, God, you think, doing your best to wipe away the fallout of the last twenty minutes from your face. What have we done?

When you’re satisfied that you don’t look like…well, like your boss just plied an orgasm from you, you trace Declan’s footsteps and step back into the party, hoping to go unnoticed by the sparse guests mingling around you. Just when you think you’ve escaped unscathed, you catch Rupert’s eye at the end of the hallway — sharp, knowing. He tilts his glass of champagne towards you, slight smirk with the quiet gesture. It’s not a greeting, but an acknowledgement, and you wonder if he saw Declan leave the library, too.

If you got this far, thank you for reading!!!! Let me know in the comments what you think, and what you predict might happen next?!

Previous chapters: Chapter 1: The Interview, Chapter 2: Beneath The Surface, Chapter 3: Driving Miss Crazy

#declan o’hara #declan o’hara imagine #declan o’hara smut #declan o’hara x you #rivals smut #declan o’hara x female #best friends dad!declan o’hara #boss!declan o’hara #declan o’hara x assistant!reader #declan o’hara x reader #declan o'hara #rivals imagine #rivals fan fic #rivals fanfiction #declan o'hara fanfiction #sexy jealous declan #filthy filthy irishman #aidan turner

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enviedear · 23 hours ago

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flirt!reader who has somewhat of a reputation in gotham—constantly in relationships—a chronic coquet. you’re fun, you’re interesting, and above all, you’re a lover. you’re just a romantic misunderstood by the press and general public…

…until you meet DICK GRAYSON. similarly monikered—a playboy, of the billionaire variety—he’s the first person in all of gotham to understand you. to pass zero judgement upon meeting your fourth date that month, to giggle with you as lead conversation at parties, and to match your frequent headlining romantic blunders.

though, that’s not what dick and you would call them. necessary evils, maybe, blunders—never. instead, the pair of you referred to all failed relationships as stepping stones. you learn from person to person, “gathering intel.” grayson will smile.

but sometimes—when gotham social events grow too taxing, bleary, or greedy—you’ve found yourselves pulling away from the crowds, your dates, security, drivers, and media. sometimes it’s a few drinks on a rooftop, other times it’s processed food and wine coolers at his place. it’s…sweet. in a way you’ve never tasted before, you almost crave it when he’s gone.

towing the line between reassurance and utter devotion to eachother is frequent within your friendship. you’re two reflecting pools of unprecedented levels of love, both searching relentlessly for the one. that one romance that’s gonna stick—it’s a strange religion to be subscribed to, but both of you are.

and that’s the pleasant part about it, that you’re not alone. that someone else in the world, in gotham, has the capacity to hunger for it the way you do.

but that’s also the most dangerous part. because the longer you orbit each other, the harder it becomes to ignore the way your worlds have begun to collide. the way your stepping stones are less about ‘gathering intel’ these days and more about passing time.

sometimes, you’ll be at a gala or a dimly lit lounge—seated beside your latest conquest—but you’ll catch dick’s eye from across the room. leaning into his date, flashing a signature grin, but his gaze flickers—just for a moment—to you. and in that split second, it’s like the whole room vanishes. like the two of you are the only ones who truly understand the strange script you’re acting out.

it’s intoxicating, this unspoken thing. this quiet knowledge that neither of you have voiced, because why would you? what you have is easy, comfortable. there’s no need to risk it for something it isn’t, something uncertain.

but then, in the quieter moments—when you’re sitting on his couch, legs tucked beneath you, half a wine cooler forgotten in your hand—he’ll say something that just about makes your breath catch. something about how maybe love is about timing, about knowing when to stop looking. and you’ll hum in agreement, staring at the way the light catches in his eyes, playing it off as expert listening.

because if you say it—if either of you acknowledges the real reason you keep coming back to eachother—then everything changes. and neither of you are quite ready for that. not yet.

writer’s note .☘︎ ݁˖ this idea has been plaguing my mind for weeks so i had to write a drabble. sue me. this dynamic is sweetly toxic and i love it and i love when dick grayson meets his match (it’s always yummy, we love two lovers being freaks about it) askbox open for more of this or any other thoughts 🫂 !!!

🖇️ masterlist | askbox | recent works

#⤸ enviedear #⤸ drabbles with olivia #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #dc dick grayson #dc x reader #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x you

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loveandleases · 1 day ago

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Randomly got hit with nostalgia because "Again" sung by Hadley Fraser popped up in my Playlist and now I'm wondering, on the off-chance that MC met the ROs while still with Chris (if Chris is still cheating or not with Jade is up to you), would any of them try to talk to MC at/right before the wedding (preferably before and not objecting during the ceremony, but I'm not opposed to mess) to talk MC out of it and be with them (the RO, that is) before its too late? Damn you Hadley Fraser--

I had forgotten about that songs existence until you mentioned it. (I actually have canon scenarios for Cam, G, and Kara.) ❤️ Cam - Oh you know he is just looking for that moment, to get MC alone truly. To see that this wedding isn't what they wanted, that Chris isn't who they want. Cam is ready for it mess and all. If he did it before the wedding it would go something like this:

If his voice isn't giving away his nerves, then the shaking of his hands as he holds theirs is. His eyes are darting, never settling on one part for too long. Afraid that once he does he'll lose this burst of bravado. "You can't marry Chris."

"Wh... what do you mean I can't?"

Cam's grip on yours tightens, fingers intertwined hoping that, after all these years, you understand—this isn't selfishness. This isn't him trying to stake a claim.

"It's your choice, at the end of the day. But I'm asking you here... I'm," his voice falters, as he closes the distance and places his hand to your jaw. "begging you. Don't marry Chris."

"Cam I can't just... I-I need a reason. You can't just beg me not to and not say why."

Logic—of course you'd ask for logic. He wishes you wouldn’t, because it makes this part harder. And much more embarrassing.

He's not good with words, or at least he doesn't think so. (he's wrong.) Cam’s breath comes quick, his chest rising and falling faster than your racing heart. But before you can question what he's doing he steps closer. Tilting your face so that he can press a kiss to your lips.

"They say it’s good luck to kiss the bride/groom on their wedding day." He mumbles against your lips, just enough to speak but not enough to stop.

"Maybe... but I'm not getting married."

"Then good fucking luck indeed."

💙 G -The real question is whether they would have been invited at all.Chris would never have allowed it, but G would have found a way in anyway. Former friend, former lover—it didn't matter. It was still an important day for MC.

But G couldn’t sit through a wedding. Not this one. The thought of MC marrying Chris—a person so different from them, so full of hate—was unbearable.

So, G arrived early. Far too early. A note in hand, because they knew if they tried to say it out loud, MC would freeze. They’d get lost in pleasantries, in what-ifs and what-could-have-beens.

They waited until MC stepped out of the dressing room. Then, with a final glance at the words they couldn't bring themselves to speak, they left the note behind.

I won’t tell you everything it says. But I can give you a line from it.

💚 Kara - Internally, she would be at war with herself. Because she cares about MC—but she cares about Chris, too. And the Kara before the breakup is not the Kara you will come to know. Back then, she wouldn’t have realized that Chris wasn’t the person she imagined them to be.

So, she would suffer through it. Convince herself that loving MC from a distance was better than not loving them at all. She would force a smile, wish them good luck—

And regret it.

(similar to Angelica in Hamilton.)

💛 M - They are far too shy for the kind of attention that comes with interrupting a wedding. So, they would act weeks in advance. They would ask careful questions, fishing for insight into MC’s relationship with Chris—trying to see if they’re truly happy.

But M notices the truth early on. MC has settled. The spark that usually lights up their eyes when they talk about their passions is dimmed. When they’re with Chris, that glint is nearly snuffed out. The luster of who they are fades.

But not when they’re with M.

And in a fleeting moment, M realizes it. A split-second of shock. Because for all their intelligence, M can be painfully dense—especially when it comes to love. Their thoughts slip out before they can stop them. They tell MC how much they care. How they know they can make them happy. That they don’t want to change who MC is, only help them shine—if MC will let them.

(Expect several pages in their dedication section about the one time they were brave—and how, for once, it worked in their favor.)

💜 Isaac - They didn’t want to admit their feelings for MC. They fought it for so long. And part of them would have kept fighting—because Isaac doesn’t believe they’re good enough for MC. But they don’t believe Chris is good for MC either.

It’s a brash decision. An impulsive one. But on the wedding day, Isaac makes a mess of things. Because the second they see MC, standing there, more beautiful than they ever imagined, they crumble.

They told themselves they’d be okay with this. That they could live with it. (They couldn’t. They just chose to lie.)

So they say it. That it’s a mistake. The whole relationship is a mistake. If MC is going to be with someone who doesn’t deserve them, then they should choose him. Choose Isaac.

They’re not promising MC a life of luxury. Chris has money, influence. But Isaac? Isaac has heart. A broken thing that only felt whole when MC walked in. When they saw Isaac—not just the mess, the flaws, the defenses—but the person beneath. And they took that mangled wreckage and held it together. Made it worth something.

So if MC has to settle—then settle for him.

(And if Isaac found out Chris was cheating with Jade? MC would know before they walked down that aisle. And if MC chose to leave Chris at the altar with nothing but a note to be read in front of the guests? Isaac would be more than happy to do the honors.)

🖤 Ardent - He doesn’t believe for a second that MC is happy. He sees through them the same way they see through him—always has. He knows how terrifying it is to go against expectations, to walk away from the choices you thought you had to make. The ones you were led to believe were the only option.

There’s a knock on the door. You assume it’s the food you ordered, so you open it without thinking. But instead of a delivery, it’s Ardent—cheeks flushed, panting, rain clinging to his skin and flattening his hair against his forehead.

"Can I come in?" he asks, breathless.

"Did you run here?"

He doesn’t answer. Just steps past you, scanning the room. His gaze lands on the wedding invitations stacked on the coffee table—still blank. The wedding creeps closer every day, yet you haven’t filled them out. You haven’t invited anyone.

"Sorry about the... mess." Your fingers brush the embossed lettering, as if touching them will make it real. Before you can shove them out of sight, Ardent takes your hands.

"I need to talk to you."

No one likes hearing those words. And judging by the knot in your stomach, you’re no exception. But you nod, maybe out of shock. Maybe because he looks... hesitant. Scared, even. And that’s not like him.

You motion to the couch, watching as he sits, his rain-damp clothes soaking into the fabric. You can already hear Chris complaining about it.

But that’s not what surprises you most. It’s the way Ardent speaks—soft, careful. Like he’s afraid of breaking something. You’ve always compared him to a bull in a china shop. That’s who he is. That’s who you’ve come to—what? Care about?

The same man who held you when he told you about Chris and Jade. The same man who nearly broke when you said you wanted to give Chris another chance. Because your parents called it a mistake. Because they told you Chris cared. Because they needed you to forgive him. Not for you—for them.

"You're scaring me, big guy. Why are you here so... late?" Focus on that. Not on how your fiancé isn’t home. Not on how they haven’t answered your calls.

Ardent rests his elbows on his knees, threading his hands together under his chin. He watches you—every movement, every breath. Every glance at this hollow room.

"You're not getting married, are you?"

"What? Of course, I am."

He scoffs, raking a hand through his wet hair. Droplets fall from the strands, darkening his shirt. "You're not."

"Yes. I am." You hold his gaze, sharp and unyielding. But then he stands and grabs a handful of the blank invitations.

"Put those down. That doesn’t mean anything—"

"It means everything." His voice booms, unfiltered and raw. Loud. Unapologetic. Angry. Like you. Only, you’ve been holding it back. For what? For who?

"Whether I'm getting married or not is none of your business. It’s not like you care." And there it is. The truth beneath everything.

You want him to care.

"Is that what you fucking think?" He drops the invitations, letting them scatter across the floor. He doesn’t care about the mess he’s making—not of this, not of anything—as he pulls you toward him. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and searching. "You really think I don’t care? That I want you marrying that fucking idiot? That I’m just gonna stand by while you waste your life with them—hell, start a family with them?"

He’s close. Too close. But he won’t cross that line. Neither will you.

"I've cared for so long. You're just too much of an idiot to see it." His breath is warm against your skin, while his is so cool from the rain outside.

You swallow hard, words catching in your throat. "Are you saying..." You fight for air, for clarity, for something—someone—that is only yours. "Are you saying you don’t want me to get married?"

His nod is small, barely there. But you feel it, forehead resting against yours.

"I don’t want you marrying Chris. I don’t want you here in this place. I don’t... fuck, I don’t want you having a family with anyone but me. Is that... okay?"

His hands trace along your jaw, slow and reverent, mapping the lines like he’s memorizing them.

"More than okay."

#love and leases #cam #ardent #g #m #kara #isaac #i have no idea what i was doing with ardents it just went there

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sweetiechenle · 1 day ago

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halo 𖦹 haechan

pairing: non-idol!collegestudent!mean!haechan x afab!collegestudent!reader

summary: you know haechan is not good for you but you just keep coming back

warnings: mdni 18+ only, angst, hurt, barely any comfort, haechan is toxic and a liar and a manipulator, reader is :/ someone help them, sex scenes, cursing, mentions of drinking/smoking, name-calling (not the nice kind), this is a toxic relationship and if u relate to any of this pls remember help is out there! fiction ≠ reality, i do not believe he would act like this irl, he is just a character in my story.

♬⋆.˚ now playing .ᐟ 'halo' by cage the elephant

you knew i couldnt help myself i had to lay low

you never had trouble making friends, but after a while it felt like chore. mundane conversations made with strangers at school, your job, parties your best friend mark would drag you to occasionally. when you told mark you had the weekend off you knew you fucked up, he began to pled, almost getting on his knees to accompany him to this party 'the coolest people in class' were throwing was his words. you rolled your eyes saying 'i’ll think about it' that was wednesday and as friday crept closer you knew youd have to give him an answer soon.

drinking was never fun for you, always blacking out and throwing up somewhere, or worst, on someone, which mark and renjun would never let you live down. so, you became the designated driver, only when you felt like it. however, you still had fun hanging out with your friends drinking or not, mark never left you alone for too long and renjun would always dance with you when asked. you preferred seeing your friends outside of partying which was never a problem for anyone in your group, you wouldn't call yourself innocent, just someone who wanted a more calm environment.

'please come with me, it won't be fun without you' mark sat on the couch in your studio apartment. you stood opposite of him, right in front of the tv. rolling your eyes at him, he was looking around you trying to see his show playing. 'could you move?'

'could you be a little bit nicer? you're the one trying to get ME to do something' folding your arms you move to sit next to him. he sighed and threw his head up to look at the ceiling for a second, he turned off the tv and moved his body towards you. 'y/n would you please come with me to this party? I think there are a couple of people there who you would like actually…' he nudged you, 'jeno will be there, his friend is actually hosting it' you gave him a little smile at hearing your crushes name, but everyone liked jeno.

'hmm, while i don't think jeno would actually talk to me, i guess i have nothing else better to do with my time, just promise you wont leave me' you begged your best friend.

he smiled and took out his pinky finger, presenting it to you, 'i promise' you grabbed it with your own, sealing your fate for the weekend.

you hurried to get ready, opting for high-waisted jean shorts and a simple crop top, something cute to make you fit in, not to grab too much attention. mark was waiting for you on your couch, occasionally shouting out that you both needed to leave soon. finishing up your make up you told mark that you would meet him in the car. it was a deal that he would drive you both there and you would drive back, with him probably drunk and/or high. making your way downstairs and outside, saw him in the driver's seat, ready to take off. once you sat down he was already driving, 'why are we rushing? we actually have plenty of time to get there'

mark sighed, obviously nervous, “well I met these guys the other day and they seem really cool, i just don't want to blow it, you know?' you didnt 'i just want to be their friend, for all of us' you noticed how his knuckles were white gripping the steering wheel. in one of marks classes he was paired up with jeno, who was part of one of the most popular groups in the whole college, a group he wanted to be a part of, and when jeno invited him to a party he knew he couldn't fuck up his chances.

'mark, relax and just be yourself, i'm sure they'll like you. you're like the coolest person i know' you tried to reassure him. he rolled his shoulders back and loosened his grip, trying to clear his mind of anxiety, 'you know i'm nervous too' your words caught him off guard, 'the only person i'll probably know there is you, and maybe renjun if he shows up' he nodded realizing he wasn't the only one freaking out.

the car stopped outside of a little townhouse, you figured a couple of college guys lived there together, there was no way only one person could own something like that in a town so expensive. 'alright, i think this is chenle’s house' turns out only one guy did live there.

it was dark when you entered, and there was a lot of people already there. the music was alarmingly high, but if the person who lived here could afford it then they probably paid the neighbors not to mind too much for one night. you stood behind mark awkwardly, watching as he said hi’s to people you didn't know, he tried to introduce you to which you waved and gave a small introduction. that was until he found jeno along with some other guy, just the four of you in the small kitchen, it was unbearably hot and you wondered if they could see how red your cheeks were.

'y/n' mark started, you broke your gaze from the cherry cabinets and looked at your best friend, 'this is jeno and his friend haechan' you gave them a small small and wave trying to give your most confident ‘hi’. they were so cute, but your focus remained on jeno the most.

'it's nice to meet you, y/n' jeno said before his other friend could, who continued to stare at you, without another word the dark-haired male turned to your best friend, 'want to play beer pong?' you almost laughed telling him you'd come and watch later as mark turned to you for the okay.

when you came to watch them later (after asking multiple people where the table was for beer pong) you found it and mark was already chugging a beer with jeno by his side. giggling you told mark to slow down or he would be passed out within the next hour, jeno just smirked beside you, throwing his arms over the both of you as mark finished his drink. you stopped laughing as jeno yelled over the blaring music, 'we're just getting started my friends'. mark let out a laugh of his own which forced some laughter out of you, you looked from his face to across the table. you remembered him as jeno's friend, haechan, staring at you with pointed eyes and a thin lip, no hints of laughter.

'here drink this' mark said handing you a red cup with clear liquor swirling around, it smelled like alcohol and you grimaced but took it anyways, 'trust me, there's barely any vodka in there, it will help you wind down a little' annoyed by his statement you took a sip and closed your eyes, trying to keep it all down. he walked away to where jeno was, now sitting with a big group.

'not tasty enough? or would you prefer the wine worth hundreds of dollars we save only for goody-goody’s like you?' you turned at the unexpectant guest, raising your eyebrows at the comment. breath hitching in your throat finding jeno's friend, haechan, standing before you.

'excuse me?' you almost spit out the second sip you'd taken, not from the bitter taste but the way he spoke.

'you heard me, you don't have to drink it if you think you are too good for it' he lifted up his eyebrow in question, giving you a slight smirk.

his behavior confused you, but deciding to play along, 'it could be worse, but could be better' you said putting down the cup.

before you could leave, another man entered the room right behind haechan, he slapped his back, making the shorter man jump, 'sorry, he's an asshole'

you smiled in amusement and watched haechan turn to argue with the other boy, you left the room to find mark. you asked if he was ready to leave but he said something about the party just starting, rolling your eyes you asked if he could at least dance with you. he reluctantly agreed, getting up from the couch, he took your hand and led you to the dance floor. you had tried to get jeno's attention by sneaking looks at him, but obviously was a bad plan as he never took notice of your existence even in such a small place. you looked back at mark and to your surprise he wasn't there anymore but haechan, you stood ready to get away from him. he took your arm in his hand, “don't leave, let's dance” you hesitated, but to not make things awkward you agreed. trying to move along with the beat you felt him against you, getting closer. feeling his hot breath on your ear you shuddered, 'staring at jeno isn't going to make him want you… as if he would ever want anyone like you' turning towards him, he stared down at you like dry grass burning from the sun, you could tell something was up. before you could say anything else he grabbed your hips and turned so your back was now touching his front, he moved you along to the music. 'you think you're so innocent' he whispered, 'you should come upstairs with me, i can make you forget all about jeno' so that's what it was, you came to the conclusion that he was acting like this because he liked you(?) and was jealous. the puzzle was hard to put together in your mind, but before you could think another thought about it, the brown-haired boy was tugging you upstairs to an empty room.

it was dark and only the moonlight shone through the window, illuminating only small parts on his face. you noticed some moles and if the circumstances were different you'd comment on how cute they were. caught by surprise in a split second his lips were on yours, kissing you feverishly like his life depended on it, you tried to keep up with the speed, kissing him back almost instantly. he would move down to your neck and bite slightly making you gasp and moan, just as he said, making you forget all about jeno. you watched as his hand slid down your pants and into your underwear, you gasped as he played with you. suddenly embarrassed you hid your face in the crook of his neck, giving him little butterfly kisses as you tried to hold back your moans. 'do you like that?' he huffed in your ear, not stopping his movements. you nodded, whimpering as you tried to reach your high, 'use your words bitch' he hissed going slower to try and make you suffer.

'i like it' you muttered, he went back to his steady pace, going faster when he noticed your legs shaking a little, a couple seconds later you came on his fingers, coming down from your high you sighed and tried to catch your breath. he took his hand out of your pants and held his fingers in front of your face 'suck' he demanded.

'will you call me tomorrow?' you blurted, maybe he did like you and this was just his crazy way of getting your attention.

'no, now suck' he imposed. reluntantly you took his fingers in your mouth, cleaning yourself off of him. after you were done, he stood getting ready to leave you in the room, before opening the door he turned to you still sitting on the bed, 'i'll ask mark for your number'

he didn't call you the next day or the next week, you'd occasionally see him around campus, with his friend group, and sometimes even with mark. you didn't tell mark about what happened between the two of you at the party out of pure embarrassment. mark doesn't even remember leaving you on the dance floor, to begin with. you wanted to forget about haechan, and let him go, but there was something about that night the way he made you feel, uneasy but grounded at the same time. It was a feeling someone else would call you insane if you ever tried to explain it out loud.

just as you thought you were over it, a random text came through your phone on a lonely saturday night reading: 'it's haechan, wanna come over?' you knew you didn't have to go but you did anyways. getting in your car you clicked his address on your phone and drove straight to his apartment. he buzzed you into the building and you made your way upstairs, opting only to dress in sweats and a matching hoodie. he opened the door with a smile, something you weren't really used to seeing yet, but devilishly handsome none-the-less. he led you to his bedroom, a modest size. you moved to the end of the bed, playing with the strings on your hoodie, the air now becoming awkward. you felt a dip next to you and turned towards him, he leaned in for a kiss, much like the night a week ago. you silently complied, kissing him slowly.

he stopped halfway, 'why are you holding back? come on y/n don't act all innocent now, you were the one who asked me to text you,' you winced, he was right.

you faltered, trying not to look him in the eyes, 'i've never done anything like this before, like um… sex' the room felt big and you got smaller under his stare.

he let out a lifeless laugh, 'i'm going to ruin you' he said more to himself. the night ended with you in bed with him, nothing going further than foreplay as you told him you weren't ready yet, but he was willing to wait. haechan wanted to break your innocence, it became a mission to break your facade of someone who acted like they were too good for everyone around them, he knew that deep down you were no better than him.

'i like you y/n, but we can't be seen out together in public, you know mark is a part of our friend group somewhat, and if he finds out about us, i don't think he would like that too much, you know since he's your best friend and all' haechan explained as to why you couldn't tell anyone about your relationship, no way was he being sincere but you didn't have to know that.

you blushed 'I like you too, haechan' you took a mental note when your words made him smile, which just set your heart ablaze. 'yeah, i don't think mark would be too happy about us right now, maybe we should wait a while before we tell him' haechan smiled, getting you right where he wanted.

after a while, you left and went back home, giddy and feeling nothing but joy in your heart. a couple of nights a week it would be the same routine, haechan would call you to come over and you would end up in the same place, under him and in his bed. there was a handful of times you would go out to eat ramen at some random convenience stores outside of town, you never questioned him when he didn't hold your hand even when no one was around. sometimes he was sweet, cuddling into you in bed after an intimate moment or when he asked you if you wanted to stay and watch a movie. other times you'd get done in bed and he'd bluntly ask when you were leaving, you figured he was probably tired.

it didn't help that at times when you and mark would hang out with his new friend group, haechan would act like he never even knew you, but ‘it was for the best’ reminding yourself. it almost slipped to everyone while playing video games together and jeno was on your team, you both had gotten too invested in the game. hugging when you won and arms around you for comfort when you lost, to haehcan jeno was getting way too close for comfort. he continuously asked to switch partners, you thought it was cute, but it just made everyone confused as to why haechan wanted you as a partner so bad. your smile faltered when he answered 'she's terrible! obviously needs someone else to help her win, i think it should be me' his comment pushed a pin through your heart, so you didn't answer his call that night, but of course, you couldn't help yourself. after he texted continuously, trying to tell you it was the best way to get the others off of your backs and not to suspect anything, you agreed to go see him.

after months of back and forth with haechan, you were content with where you were with him. you were sitting in the library on campus one night, there were not a lot of students around, but it was a smaller school to begin with so at any given point there was never really anyone around. never being one to eavesdrop on other people's conversations, but when haechan's name was said multiple times between two girls sitting nearby, you just had to listen in. you couldn't make out exactly what they were saying but you stood up when you heard his name and the other girl squealing slightly when the other said 'texted'. before you could even think about it you walked to the end of their table, 'why are you texting my boyfriend?'

the girls were surprised by their sudden interruption of the conversation, turning to you with their mouths slightly agape. 'haechan? girlfriend? this can't be the same haechan we're talking about' she laughed. her statement just made you furious, you knew you were quiet with haechan but you trusted he wasn't talking to other girls. 'girl, stand up, he’ll fuck anything with two legs' the other girl said before turning back to speak with the other, ignoring you entirely. before leaving the second girl called out to you, 'sorry, he's an asshole!' you stomped outside, weight pulling you down as you heard that before, you called haechan with a heavy heart, explaining that you needed to come over.

once you made it to his place you started explaining 'that girls were talking about texting you' and that 'you trusted he would never do that'. he sighed, trying to get you to calm down, haechan guided you to sit on the couch in his living room, explaining slowly, 'first of all, we are not dating, i never asked you to be my girlfriend, second, i have not texted any other girls, they are probably just jealous, but you can not just go around and call us that to strangers!' he walked around in circles, pulling at his brown hair in frustration. you felt your heart break at his confession, how could you forget that he never asked you to be his girlfriend, so why would you go around and call him your boyfriend? you felt embarrassment and stupidity wash over you, it felt gross and sticky. standing up you walked to the door, he watched you take the knob in your hand, turning it, 'i understand' you left.

it was a week without haechan, and while you knew it was good for you, it felt so wrong. you hated it, trying your best to avoid him, yet he was the only thing you could think about. he tried calling you a couple times, and they would go unanswered, he texted you and everything. you ignored him as best as you could, it was until mark got involved. unbelievable, your best friend showed up at your door, saying he wanted to hang out and watch a movie and nonchalantly adding in the comment 'oh yeah, by the way, haechan asked me for you to call him'

you tried to act confused as to why, trying to get more information from mark, 'did he say why?'

mark looked just as confused as you did, 'no but he said it was important, he was kind of sad too, did you do anything to him?'

you scoffed, 'no i didnt, but i guess i should call him if it's that important' after mark left later that night you decided it would be now or never. you could never help yourself with haechan, no matter how bad you wanted to get away, he always found a way to pull you back in.

he picked up on the second ring, 'let me explain' you sighed and told him to go ahead, 'i didnt mean to upset you y/n, you see, i was going to ask you to be my girlfriend and i guess those girls had heard something around campus and got jealous'

you grew suspicious, 'what do you mean ‘heard something around campus’?'

'okay well i told jeno that we had been together for a couple of months and that i was planning on asking you, and i guess he told someone else. please y/n come over tonight and let me make it up to you'

you sighed… you really shouldn't, 'fine, ill be over in 10 minutes'

got so high, couldnt help myself. i lost my halo

'now mark still doesnt know about us, so you cant go around saying anything okay?' haechan was trying to convince you, as he peppered your neck in kisses, 'are you ready tonight?' he was desperate to get you to comply finally. he had been waiting months, usually, girls give it up way earlier but you took some breaking… love as haechan hated to call it. months of work just to break your innocence for him just to get some pussy. he would admit that he had fun trying to get you to bend at his every command, but when you ignored him it just made him want you more. he just couldn't help himself. it took him a lot of thinking but after this night, he wasn't done with you yet. He was so close and he wasn't going to stop now.

you sat infront of him, nervous at his question but you nodded, 'im ready' he gave you a devilish smile in return, planning to do something absolutely crazy to seal the deal. 'good, now just relax baby, i promise i'll make you feel good' you nodded, trusting him. after a while of kissing you got down on your knees in front of him, something you had done dozens of times. now it felt different, in the back of your mind you could hear the girl's voice from a week ago, 'stand up' you stared at his crotch, the bulge waiting for you. 'are you going to suck my dick or not?' he questioned, starting to become impatient, you looked up in a panic not realizing how much lost in thought you were. you unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants, 'come on baby, you remember just like last time, remember how good you made me feel?' this wasn't good for you, deep down you knew it, but no matter how much he slipped the knife under your skin, you couldn't help it, and there was no going back now. looking up into his brown eyes staring down you nodded.

after he finished, he was hard again almost immediately, ready for what he worked so hard to accomplish, finally breaking your image, it was so sweet he could get high just thinking about it. the way you had defended him from cheating even when those girls were right. the fact that he never wanted to be your boyfriend but couldn't stand the fact of you leaving him, he was fucking crazy and tonight he planned something even more fucked up so he always has a tight hold on you.

you sighed as you laid on your back, waiting for haechan to get ready, feeling nervous as you watched him roll the condom over his dick. he moved to the bed finally and climbed on top of you, 'are you sure about this?' he double-checked, hoping you wouldn't back out now. the excitement almost getting to the best of him as he lined up with your entrance. you nodded and shut your eyes as he slid inside. while it hurt so bad, you felt so full. without even telling him he started to move and that's when it felt better, so euphoric. he continued to pound into you, and all you could do was moan into his shoulder, your brain feeling like mush from everything feeling, your body going through the trails of fire. 'I love you' he whispered and you could barely comprehend the words, deep down you knew he was lying but this was too good to fuck up right now, all you could do was kiss him.

you couldn't help yourself. you'd come back every time.

i lost my halo

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blueraith · 1 day ago

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"How could Vi not notice her sister is suicidal?!"

I feel like people who ask this question have a fundamentally immature understanding of depression and suicidal thoughts/actions, and how the two affect people OUTSIDE of the person suffering from these conditions. Perhaps you guys are young, and you don't know how to view this matter outside of yourselves and your own perception, but it is tragically common for people to miss seemingly "obvious" details that lead up to a loved one's suicide. "I didn't notice anything was wrong" is about one of the most common refrains you'll hear after the fact.

Let’s also remember that Vi does not actually know all of Jinx's emotional tells or signs of an impending episode. She is confused each and every time Jinx goes through one and almost always unintentionally triggers her. This because it's been SEVEN FUCKING YEARS since they've seen, spoken to, or lived together.

Neither Jinx or Vi actually know the current versions of each other very well, it's one of the reasons they keep hurting each other, and part of the tragedy of their relationship.

Look, I have depression. I've had it since I was about 15 or so. I can recall self-isolating or worse and assuming my parents or friends or a teacher would notice and rush to my aid or something.

Never happened. Because depression isn't always a very obvious condition. People mask in different ways, and not always with the conscious intention to hide their symptoms. Sometimes, people with depression mask simply because it makes it slightly easier to get through the day. Jinx's case would likely be even more difficult to spot because of the manic side of her condition.

I ended up getting the bulk of my care taken care of as an adult. Mostly because I could finally advocate for myself and I also realized that NO ONE is going to notice the more alarming symptoms of my own depression better than me.

This is not to say that you can't have a support network. Or that members of that support network WON'T spot something you've overlooked from time-to-time.

But Vi is not Jinx's support network. (Arguably Sevika is far better placed for that.) She might have gotten there eventually if Act 2 hadn't ended the way that it had, but that dream of the sisters being able to recreate their lost family was shattered and the progress they were making in getting to know each other halted at Jinx's realization that she needed to leave for Vi to move on.

I don't know, it's like some of you expect everyone in your lives or in other, unrelated media to have a 13 Reasons Why style reaction any time someone shows symptoms of suicidal thoughts or actions, or when one occurs. This is almost an absurd thing to expect out of anyone unfamiliar with what depression or suicidal thoughts actually look like. Like, if you're American, this idea that everyone everywhere is familiar with what a mental health crisis looks like is even more tragically farcical because we can't even admit that poor mental health is an aspect of mass shootings here as a society and culture.

And y'all expect the ex-con stuffed into a box since the age of 15 or so to be able to just instantly spot that her sister--again whose symptoms she's very obviously not familiar with--is going through a crisis event?

Like, damn, no one in this fandom is cut more slack than Jinx, and this entire criticism of Vi makes that more clear than any other. It's a position ironically devoid of any and all empathy, probably because y'all spent it all on Jinx, and assumes a sort of selfishness and coldness towards Vi that is in no way, shape, or form supported by canon.

It's honestly an argument that I dismiss entirely the moment a person attempts to make it. Largely because I am exhausted of how hypocritical this aspect of the famdom becomes towards Vi. Jinx's actions are a large part of the reason Vi sinks into alcoholism. She then proceeds to taunt Vi about it in the mines as if Vi's pain is nothing to her.

I NEVER hear anyone talk about that. It's almost always about how Vi should have done better. How Vi hurt Jinx. How Vi wasn't good enough.

It's some Grade A, Bonafide Bullshit™

Vi and Jinx were never going to ride off into the sunset together. If that is something you thought was going to happen and are now irrationally blaming Vi for because you're disappointed....? I don't know what to tell you. I personally thought it was pretty obvious that they were Doomed Siblings in this storyline and any potential, permanent reconciliation between them may happen in some far off sequel project or not at all.

#vi arcane #arcane #arcane season 2 #jinx arcane #jinx and vi

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justp3achy03 · 1 day ago

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Jayce and Viktor's Relationship Analysis: From Beginning to the End

so this was originally posted on my TikTok (i legit did a whole three parts and talked for the first two, but then realized i do not have a video voice so I just shared the remaining slides 🚶‍♀️ this will be in the same format EXCEPT i will do even more in depth because im an overthinker, a psych major AND history minor, and i love to yap. so…enjoy!! (also will talk about key relationships these two had BUT not within the slides because i am a college student and midterms are coming soon!!))

boom!! part one is done because i didnt want to bombard anyone with like too much information at once so here it is!! also if any questions or like idk, want me to ramble more about a specific scene/act, just let me know because i love to yap if enabled

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane season one #arcane viktor #viktor #jayce talis #arcane jayce #analysis tag #powerpoint because im crazy #HAHAHA #<3 #jayvik #jayce and viktor #besties #bros #and lovers #im not sorry #let me yap #relationship analysis

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eddiediazismyhusband · 6 hours ago

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ik this is like my third post today about this, but…

“i don’t want buddie canon rushed” my brother in christ (gn) it has been SIX SEASONS and the season has TEN HOURS OF SCREENTIME LEFT i beg yall to get a fucking grip they have been developing something for years at this point it should not take Eddie more than two or three episodes AT MOST to work through his sexuality, and it should not take any longer for them to enter into a relationship with each other once they realize they have feelings for each other

some of yall are acting like they only met two seconds ago and haven’t been supporting each other as the closest thing to romantic partners they can be without actually being romantic partners for YEARS

some of yall are also acting like eddie still has to work through the shannon of it all as if he hasn’t gotten over her fifteen different times throughout the show’s run- realistically three episodes is dragging for a plotline for him because you’re telling me it would take more than three hours if screentime to work through stuff like that?

it’s like some of you don’t want them to be canon… you wanna keep seeing the pining and like, yeah, a couple episodes of that is fine, but i have not say through 8 years of this show for them to get 2 episodes of being together

pining is one thing, but what about everything they could go through in a relationship? lover’s spats? relationship hardships? showing the complexities of a queer relationship- esp one between two men of different ethnic backgrounds during a trump presidency?

yall act like them getting together is the end of their story but it’s not- do yall think tarlos shouldn’t have gotten together until the end of the show? no- because part if what made that ship so special was the before AND the after

yall act like this show isn’t a finite thing with an end date that none of us know when that will be- frankly, with how often the writers change their mind on things, if they continue pushing it off bc fans are screaming for “a full season of pining” (which again is like ~20ish hours of screentime) then it’s very likely that they would back away from buddie canon again

this show is awful at continuity in long-term story arcs, as we have seen time and time again, and giving buddie that kind of treatment would be a disservice to the past 7 seasons of buildup

them going canon withing 3 or 4 episodes of the new half-season is not a disservice, you just don’t understand how shipping works beyond the pre-relationship and that’s so disappointing that you have willingly put blinders on yourself, preventing you from seeing how an established relationship could elevate them to a whole new level of potential plotlines

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samanthacastano02 · 19 hours ago

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Felix - Perfect

Felix x FemReader

Trigger warnings: Abuse (Physical and verbal abuse from Hyunjin), fighting, tooth-rotting fluff, inaccurate medical terminology, Felix being a sweetheart and most supportive person ever, starts off as Hyunjin x FemReader ends as Felix x FemReader, mentions of break up, insecurity, probably more (This is fictional and not how I believe Hyunjin or any of the members would ever act towards someone they love)

Word Count: 10.1K

Summary: You had been dating Hyunjin for almost two years when he had asked you to join him at an event for Versace. You were excited to join him but also nervous because this would be the first time that you would be going to an event like this. You get into a fight, a fight that opens your eyes about your relationship with Hyunjin, so you leave. You call Felix for help and he becomes your rock and safe place during everything.

Photos are not mine, Credits go to photographers

I had been dating Hyunjin for close to two years, he was my first serious relationship and I didn’t know how I was supposed to be treated. I thought that the way he was treating me was the way someone who loved you treated you, not realizing that wasn’t the case.

Present:

I loved Hyunjin with everything that I had, and when he said that he was finally ready to announce our relationship to the public I was over the moon because it had been a year and a half of secret dates, secret outings and hiding it from everyone including his other members. I didn’t think much of it because he was an idol and maybe he wanted to keep this part of his life separate for some time so that it was his rather than something that he had to share with everyone. I didn’t enjoy having to sneak around but I did it for him because I loved him and I didn’t want to ruin my chances with him just because of the fact that he wanted to keep the relationship secret. When the boys finally met me, they welcomed me with open arms and treated me as if I had been friends with them the entire time. The only person who seemed to be a little standoffish and hesitant to be friends was Felix, he was always nice and held conversations when required but he always seemed to isolate himself when Hyunjin and I were hanging out with the boys together. I could never pinpoint why he acted this way, but also didn’t question it because Hyunjin never liked it when I spent one on one time with any of the boys, even Chan who saw me as an annoying younger sister.

It was a few weeks before Hyunjin had to go to Milan’s fashion week, as Versace’s ambassador. I knew that he was excited to go because it was all that he could talk about, and the preparations for it had been taking up most of his time, leaving me to busy myself with work and different things around the apartment that we shared. I was beyond proud of him because he had worked so hard for this and he deserved to have this moment. I didn’t want to bring him down by mentioning the fact that I missed him. When he came home late, I didn’t question him, when he came home smelling of different perfume I didn’t question him because I assumed that it had something to do with the fashion week and if he wanted me to know he would tell me. It was a little before midnight when he finally came home tonight, looking worn out and ready to take a very long nap.

“Hi lovie, how were your meetings? Everything almost ready for Milan Fashion Week?” I ask, as I follow him into the bedroom, crawling into bed while I wait for him to change and go through his skin care routine.

“They were good, longer than I thought they would be. I also managed to secure another ticket and want you to be my plus one.” he says finally coming back into the bedroom.

“You want me to come with? Are you sure?” “Of course, I want to share this part of my life with you.” He says, if I wasn’t as tired as I was I would have noticed the hint of annoyance in his voice.

“I’d love to join you, but I don’t have anything that I could wear.” “Love, I have an appointment set for you to get a dress from the Versace store here in town.” “Hyunjinnie, that’s so expensive though.”

“If you are going with me, you need to represent Versace along with me” He grumbles out, sliding further down into the bed.

“I can’t even afford something small from there, let alone a dress. Jinnie, I don’t want you to spend that much money on me.” “If it’s that big of a deal I’m sure we can get it as a loaner dress and when we get back from the event we can bring it back to the store. Now can we please go to bed, it’s been a long day and I’m tired.”

“Right, of course. Sleep well Jinnie.” I lean over, gently kissing his cheek.

It was only a few days later that I was walking into the Versace store and feeling very much out of my element. I wasn’t used to this high end of a store, so trying to figure out where I needed to go and what all I needed in order to get the dress. Thankfully the attendants were super sweet and understanding about the fact that this was the first event I was ever going to of this caliber and gave me tips to help not be as nervous. With the dress finally picked out, they assured me that it would be sent to Milan and be waiting for me in the hotel room when I got there, I didn’t have to worry about it at all. I was extremely thankful for that, it was one less thing that I needed to worry about.

With Milan Fashion Week quickly approaching, Hyunjin seemed to be around the house even less than he was before. I didn’t want to think too much of it but it was hard when I barely received a text from him letting me know if he was even going to be home that night or if he was going to be spending it at the dorms with Changbin. My only saving grace was being able to talk to Han. Han had become a close friend of mine even though Hyunjin didn’t know. There was nothing going on between us, and there never would, but Han could tell when I was anxious and knew that I needed someone on my side that wasn’t Hyunjin. Because as he put it, Hyunjin hadn’t been doing very good at his boyfriend duties and was being neglectful of how I was feeling and of my anxiety. We had bonded over the fact that we both deal with anxiety and don’t always want to tell someone else in the fear of becoming a burden to them. I had received a text from Hyunjin early today that he wouldn’t be home tonight, he would be staying with Changbin since they all had an early morning. I tried to not be upset about it but I still couldn’t stop the tears from falling. I knew that if I didn’t talk to someone I would send myself into a panic, so I did the only thing I could think of and called Han, hoping that he would come over and keep me company. When I called, he picked up on the second ring, a cute habit of his.

“Hannie, Jinnie is staying with Changbin tonight and I really don’t want to be alone tonight. I’m too much in my head, can you please come over?” I almost begged the poor man.

“Y/nnie, calm down please. Of course I’ll come over, how could I ever turn down a hangout session with my favorite person?”

“Han, my dear dear friend. We both know that I am not your favorite person, Minho is your favorite person.” “Ok, correction. Second favorite person, because yeah, if we’re honest he’s my favorite.”

“Glad to see where I stand in your life Hannie.” “Girl, do you want me to come over or not?”

“Yes! Please!” “I’ll be over soon then, will you make up the spare room for me? We both know that I won’t have the energy to go home and we also know that Minho Hyung won’t be coming to get me.” “Yes, I’ll make up the spare room for you.”

He doesn’t even say goodbye, just hangs up the phone. I know that he lives close by, all of the boys do, which confused me on why Hyunjin wouldn’t take the extra five or so minutes to come back to the apartment. But I won’t question him on it because all that’ll do is lead to a fight. The movie night with Han was something that was very much needed, and when he had to leave the next morning the apartment felt so much more lifeless. I knew that if Hyunjin knew Han was here, he’d be upset but I also didn’t want to be alone so I risked him being upset.

Later that night:

When Hyunjin came home that night from practice, I could tell that he was agitated. He barely spoke to me and when he did his answers were short and snappy, I didn’t want to pry but I also wanted to help him if I was able to. It was too late when I realized that I had forgotten to make up the bed after washing the sheets, after Han spent the night. I knew that the moment Hyunjin saw that, he would ask questions and there was no way that I would be able to give him a reasonable explanation without revealing the full truth to him.

“Hey, y/n. Why are the sheets not on the bed in the guest bedroom?” Hyunjin called out to me from the hallway while I was in the kitchen making dinner for the two of us.

“Huh? Oh I was washing them, they were dusty.” “Y/n, you know not to lie to me. Now tell me why you are actually washing them.” “Fine. Han was over last night, by the time our movie ended it was too late for him to drive home and we weren’t about to wake the beast who is Minho.”

“You know I don’t like when you spend time with them one on one.” He angrily stomps over to me, I expect him to just corner me but instead he grabs me by my pony tail, pulling me away from the stove where I was cooking.

“Ahh, Hyunjin. That hurts. Stop.” I try to pry his hand out of my hair but it doesn’t work.

“You went against what I asked. You know I don’t like you being alone with the guys, I don’t want them getting too close.” He gets in my face, pulling my head back so that I am forced to look at him.

“I-I’m sorry Hyunjin, it won't happen again.” “It better not, or the next time I won’t go easy on you.” He growls out, shoving my head away, causing me to fall into the stove. I try to catch myself but end up grabbing onto the hot pan, burning my hand. The contents in the pan fling out and land all over me, burning my skin through my clothes.

“O-oh god. Y/n I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, are you ok?” Hyunjin’s whole personality changes when he notices what had just occurred.

“I-I’m ok. I-I just need to get myself cleaned up and check the burns and make sure that I don’t need to go to the hospital.” I respond after taking a couple deep breaths.

“Y-you think that you might need to go to the hospital?”

“For my hand possibly.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Jinnie, I just need to have a few minutes to myself.” “I’m really sorry Jagi.” He tries to hug me, but I shrink back from him, I can see the regret in his eyes.

I’m unable to respond, instead holding my hand to my chest as I walk into our bedroom. When I look at my hand I can tell that I have second degree burns and will need to go to the ER. I don’t have a car and I don’t want to ask Hyunjin. I know he feels bad, but I don’t want him to go to the ER with me because it means that they might ask questions and I can’t answer those right now. The only person I can think of to call right now to come and get me is Chan, I know he’ll ask questions but not until everything is figured out. I just need to figure out how to tell Hyunjin that I want to go by myself. I think the best way is to just straight up say that I want to go alone, and that I will let him know when I am coming home. I call Chan knowing that he’ll help, he picks up after the first ring. Only issue was that it wasn’t Chan who answered, it was Felix.

“Y/n? Chan left his phone here, he ran to the store. Do you need something?” “I um, never mind.” I was going to tell him but decided not to.

“I know that I’m not Chan and we don’t normally talk but if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.” “I was just hoping that he could take me to the hospital.”

“The hospital! Are you ok?”

“I burnt my hand while cooking, and it’s bad enough that I need medical attention.” “I don’t know when he’ll be back, but I can come get you and take you. Why can’t Hyunjin take you though?” “He’s wiped from practice, and I don’t want to make things worse for him. It’s ok Felix, I’ll figure out a way to get to the hospital.” “Nonsense, I’ll come get you. No questions asked.”

Thankfully, I am able to convince Hyunjin to let me go by myself. I tell him a white lie and tell him that it’s Chan picking me up, not Felix. I know if he knew that it was Felix, he would never let me leave. Felix must have known better than to come up to the door, instead texting that he was here and letting me come down to the car. When I get to the hospital, he waits in the car, not wanting to cause even more trouble for me. I can see the concern in his eyes when I walk out of the ER and he sees the bandage on my hand, thankfully the doctor seemed to buy my excuse that I fell and burnt my hand that way. The doctor let me know that the bandages could come off before the fashion show, so the dress that I got would still work. I know Felix is worried but he doesn’t press the issue, but I know that whatever friendship or whatever we had has changed between us.

Fashion Week:

The week before Hyunjin and I left for Milan, my bandages were able to come off. I knew that he felt bad, he had never gotten physical with me before and the logical part of me knew that I should have left him but the emotional part of me said that he’d never do it again. Ever since he’s been super sweet and caring, spending every night at the apartment with me, being at my every beck and call.

The first night that we were in Milan, he took me out to dinner and treated me as if I was his whole world. He apologized every morning and night for what happened, I believe that he’s sorry and I believe that he won't do it again. He loves me and I love him, I know that we’ll be able to make things work, I know he won’t let it happen again.

The night that we have the event, I am afraid that I’ll embarrass him because I won’t look as good as I should for him. I tried to make sure that my outfit matched his outfit, but it still seemed off. He seemed to be off the entire day while we were getting ready, he seemed short with me, almost annoyed that I was having to go with him. I didn’t want him to feel like he had to take me with him, I didn’t want to embarrass him or make this event even harder for him. Before I knew it, we were having to finish getting ready and leave soon.

“Jinnie, do you think my dress looks ok? Does it match your outfit well enough?” I ask as I apply the finishing touches to my makeup.

“Yes, you look fine. We need to go if we don’t want to show up late.” He grumbled annoyed.

“I’m almost ready, I just need to apply lipstick and then I’ll be ready.” “Just hurry up.”

“Ok, I’m ready lovie.”

“Ew, don’t call me that.” he side eyes me, seemingly disgusted.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry. In the past you never cared.” “Just, try not to talk too much tonight.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so instead I just rushed to catch up with him and head to the venue where the show would be held and then the after party. Much to my horror when Hyunjin and I arrived at the venue, I was ushered away from him, told that I would be sitting separately from him and that I would have to find him after the show. When he invited me I thought that we would be seated together for all of the events but I couldn’t have been more wrong. When I looked to him for support, to ask him if I really had to sit alone without him, the glare that he leveled me with was one that I could never have imagined I would get from him.

“Y/n, just sit where they tell you, stop trying to make a big deal out of nothing.” “Hyunjin, it’s a big deal to me. I’m in a country that I don’t know, at an event filled with people that I don’t know. I was under the assumption that I would be with you tonight, not sat away from you.”

“Stop it, stop whining about not getting to sit with me. You’re a big girl, put on your big girl pants and deal with sitting alone. Do not embarrass me tonight, I need tonight to go well.” “I’m not trying to embarrass you Hyunjin, but would it be so hard to ask them if we could get seats together? I don’t see why we can’t?” “Stop asking, they already have the seating arrangements set. I will see you at the after party, in the meantime try not to embarrass me.”

“Hyunjin-” I begin but he cuts me off with a glare, one that sends a cold chill down my spine. It reminds me of that night, for once I know to listen to my gut.

With him being sat away from me, I know that he’ll be more focused on the show rather than worrying about me. With how he looked at me tonight, I know that I need to leave because it wasn’t a one time incident and him hurting me was bound to happen again. I found my seat, in the back of the open showroom, which thankfully gave me the opportunity to order myself an uber and get myself back to the hotel. I didn’t know where I was going to go when I got back to Soule because technically the apartment that I lived in wasn’t mine, it was one rented by Hyunjin that he had gotten for the both of us because he wanted us to live together. I knew that I shouldn’t have given up my apartment but I was so in love with him that I thought he was my forever and that I wouldn’t need it anymore.

When my uber arrived, I quickly and quietly snuck out of the venue and as soon as it was clear I ran to the uber. The uber driver gives me a questioning look but I don’t offer up any explanation and instead book a plane ticket home, I want to be gone to the airport by the time Hyunjin comes back to the hotel. I’d prefer to be on a plane back but I also know that isn’t reasonable and is wishful thinking. I know that me leaving the event like I did can cause a scandal for Hyunjin but I can’t stay and let this relationship get even more toxic, it took me this long to realize the only reason he was even being this sweet to me after the whole incident was so that I would come with him when it came time to go to the event. He had said that he was going to have a date and he didn’t want to seem dateless when the time came around.

I panicked when I got to the hotel, packing up everything that I had brought with me and bought the earliest ticket home. Not caring which airline it was with, what section of the plane it was in and what time I would be getting back, I just knew that I needed to be gone before he got back otherwise I could actually be in serious danger. I didn’t want to worry Chan by off-loading all of my issues onto him, but I also had nowhere to stay. I didn’t know what to do, I had never been in this situation before. I did the only thing that I could think of, I called Felix, surprisingly he picked up after the first ring.

“Y/n? Are you ok?”

“No, I’m not. I’m flying back to Soule tonight but I need someone to pick me up from the airport. And then for that someone to help me find a hotel.” “Aren’t you supposed to be in Milan with Hyunjin for another week?” “It’s a lot to explain, I promise I can explain it all later but will you please pick me up?”

“Yeah of course, that shouldn’t have even been a question. I know we don’t talk much but I’ll always be here for you if you need me.” “Thank you Felix, you are a lifesaver right now. Now I just need to figure out a living situation.” “Don’t worry about that, you can stay with Seungmin and I or with Chan and I.N.” “Are you sure? I really don’t want to impose on anyone and I don’t want to cause any problems between the group and Hyunjin.”

“We all know how to be professional, whatever happened between you and Hyunjin is between the two of you. If you want us to know, then we will but if you don’t then we won't.” “Thank you, for being so understanding about all of this.”

“Of course, text me your flight details and I’ll be there to pick you up, ok?” “Ok, again thank you Felix.”

With everything set, I know that Felix and the rest of the boys will help me in any way that they can, I really don’t want to come between them and Hyunjin but I can’t help it if they decide to do this on their own. I don’t even want to think about what will happen when Hyunjin realizes that I’m no longer at the event, hell even in the country.

The next morning:

The flight back to Soule gave me the chance to think through things and figure out what I needed to do. I didn’t want to take advantage of the boys but I also couldn’t afford to stay at a hotel for very long, and finding a new place to live would be difficult, especially with the fact that I don’t make that much at my current job. I always wanted to find another job but Hyunjin never wanted me to because I only worked with women. The more I look back on our relationship, the more I realize that it was actually extremely unhealthy and the only reason that he even introduced me to the guys is because Chan accidentally caught us on a date, and when he had asked who I was I had answered before Hyunjin could. Hyunjin never had the intention of telling the guys about our relationship, his hand was forced in the whole matter.

When I finally landed I called Felix, figuring out where he was in the airport but before I could even ask, I felt a tap on my shoulder and when I turned around he was there. He was there, with a soft smile, looking like the sunshine person that everyone always describes him as. I didn’t think I would feel as much relief as I did when I saw him, but I could feel the tears forming and I didn’t know if I would be able to stop them before they fell. Felix didn’t give me the chance to, he gently pulled me into a hug. I didn’t know how badly I needed that hug until I was wrapping my arms around his waist, sobbing quietly into his chest. He tightened his arms around me, not letting go until he felt my arms drop from around him.

“Are you ready to head out?” Felix asks, taking my backpack from me.

“Yes, but I need to go to the apartment. I need to get my stuff out, I don’t want to risk trying to get it at a later date and then he be there.”

“Ok, I’ll take you. I’ll help you pack up your stuff, will you tell me what happened? Why you left Milan so suddenly?”

“Y-yes, I’ll tell you in the car. If that’s ok?”

“Of course that’s ok.”

We head to baggage claim and grab my suitcase, I try to take it from Felix after he had pulled it off for me but he doesn’t let me. He doesn’t let me carry my backpack and he won’t let me drag my suitcase, he kindly forces me to walk next to him. When Hyunjin and I came, he had people who were carrying his stuff, he didn’t even offer to carry my stuff. The more I look at Felix, the more I focus on him, the more I notice these little differences between the two men. A guilty part of me wonders why I couldn’t have met Felix first. When I had first met Hyunjin, he was so sweet and caring, we had shared an art class together and had bonded over the fact that we both loved art. The first year of our relationship was perfect, but after we had moved in together and he realized that I more than likely wouldn’t go anywhere, his whole demeanor and personality changed. No longer was he the sweet and caring guy, but an angry and anxious man who ended up taking those feelings out on me more often than not. No matter how hard I tried to be good for him, he always found a reason to be upset with me. It wasn’t until the cooking incident that he had gotten physical with me, but he was very verbally abusive towards me and would be passive aggressive towards me like he was last night. When we got to the car, I went to open my own door but before I could Felix was there, pulling it open for me, giving me a hand in case I needed help lowering myself into his car. Once I was in, he quickly rushed around to the other side, getting in himself and before I knew it, we were starting the drive back to the apartment that I once shared with Hyunjin.

“Are you ok, to tell me what happened? Why you came back so soon?” “Yes, just promise that you’ll wait until I finish explaining?”

“Of course, take your time.”

“Thank you, seriously.” “Any time y/n, any time.” “It wasn’t a cooking incident.”

“What wasn’t?”

“How I burned my hand, I didn’t burn it because I slipped. I did burn it while cooking but slipping was not the reason why.”

“Ok?”

“Hyunjin had come home angry that night, I don’t remember why exactly. I don’t remember if something had gone wrong at the studio or if I had said something but we started arguing, and I expected him to corner me like he normally did. But he grabbed my hair, yanking it back. He was super angry and it scared me, I tried to pry him off but he wouldn’t let go. Finally he got tired of arguing and he shoved me, but it happened to be in the direction of the stove. I tried to catch myself but I ended up grabbing the pan I had been using and it tipped over, spilling on me. That’s why I had such a bad burn on my hand, and burns on other parts of my body.” When I finished with that part, I could tell that Felix was angry but he did his best to contain the anger.

“Y/n, is this the first time that he was physical with you?” “Yes, it was. He had been verbally abusive for the better part of six months but I had rose colored glasses on.”

“Did he hurt you again? Is that why you came back early?”

“Not physically, he failed to mention that during the fashion show I wouldn’t be seated with him. And when I had asked if we could try to get me to sit next to him, he told me that I was being difficult and that I was embarrassing him. He told me to sit where I was told to and that he would see me at the after party.” “He seriously did that? Just left you to sit by yourself?”

“Yep, said that I was a big girl and could handle sitting by myself for the length of the show. When I tried to argue with him about it, he leveled me with a glare that actually scared me, made me nervous to even wait to see him during the after party.” “I don’t want to speak badly of him but it seems like you made the right choice in leaving, after what you told me, the whole situation seems like a bad situation.” “I think things could have gone very differently if I stayed, he knows by now that I’m gone. I’m honestly surprised that I didn’t get any texts from him after the show asking where I was. But maybe he was too preoccupied to even worry about where I was.” “Y/n, that is wrong on so many levels. If my date wasn’t sat with me at an event and then I couldn’t find her after, I would be losing my mind until I found her. Has he even texted you, asking where you are when he saw that you weren’t at the hotel and that your stuff was gone?” “Umm, I think he’s texted me like once.” “What did the text say, if you don’t mind me asking?” “Just wondering where I was, when I was coming back. It’s like he didn’t even realize that my stuff was gone.” “I’m so sorry that you have to go through this y/n, you don’t deserve it.” “It’s ok Felix, none of this is your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for.” “But I actually do. I was the one who pushed him to go to that art class, I was the one who pushed him to ask you out when he was too nervous to do so.” “Lixie, you had no way of knowing that any of this would have happened.” It’s not until he doesn’t respond that I realize what I had just called him. “Oh my god, Felix. I am so sorry. The nickname just kind of slipped out.” “Y/n, it’s ok. It just caught me off guard, I don’t mind if you call me that. Coming from you, I actually kind of like it.” “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The rest of the drive to the apartment is silent, both of us thinking but also just enjoying the music. As I look out the window, I can’t help but think about how different my life is from what I thought it was going to be just a few days ago. As I think about it, this is the first time in a long time that I’m not nervous about going back to the apartment. The realization that it’s because Hyunjin won’t be there hits me, I didn’t realize how much he scared me until I took that leap to end things with him, to leave him. The thought also hits me that I haven’t actually officially ended my relationship with him, I’m technically still his girlfriend until I officially end things. Just because I ran doesn’t mean he’ll take that as I’m breaking up with him. I can’t do it in person, I won’t be able to handle it, I’m too nervous about what he might try if I did do it in person.

I’m too into my head to realize that we had arrived at the apartment until Felix is calling out my name, trying to get my attention. I don’t know what to think of all of this, and I think that Felix is able to tell that. He doesn’t try to rush me into going inside, instead he just sits there, a supportive spirit until I’m ready to go inside.

“Ok, I think that I’m ready.” “Take your time.” “Thank you Felix, I truly do not know what I would have done without your help.” “I want to warn you, Seungmin and Chan are on their way to help. They don’t know why, they won’t know why unless you tell them.”

“Felix…”

“I just wanted to make sure that we are able to get all of your stuff. The more hands the better. When I called, I told them to help, no questions asked. What information they get is up to you.” “You promise they won’t ask any questions?” “I promise, and if they for some reason do. Send them to me.”

“Ok.”

We both get out of the car, I try to open my own door again but he rushes around opening it before I get the chance. He has a steady hand on my lower back, walking with me up to the apartment. When we get up to the apartment, I hesitate almost as if I’m not ready to take this step, ready to say goodbye to this part of my life.

“We don’t have to do this tonight if you aren’t ready.”

“No, no. I need to do this, I can’t risk Hyunjin being home.”

“Do you want me to open the door?” “Do you mind?” “Not at all.”

He takes the key from my hand, unlocking the door and pushing it open. I never realized how lifeless and cold the apartment always felt. There were no personal touches from myself in the living room, Hyunjin always insisted that his interior decor taste was better than mine and that I could decorate the bedroom. That didn’t leave me much to do anyways, I think now it had more to do with when the guys initially came over, he didn’t want them to realize he had a girlfriend. Most of my belongings were in the bedroom anyways, everything else I owned from my old apartment was in a storage unit that Hyunjin didn’t know about, he thought that I had sold whatever couldn’t fit into the bedroom on my side.

Soon Chan and Seungmin arrive, ready to help in whatever way they could. They didn’t ask any questions, which I was extremely thankful for. I really didn’t want to have to tell the whole story twice, I knew they had their questions but I didn’t know how to tell them. I knew that if I gave Felix the ok, he would tell them.

“Felix, come here real quick. Please?” “Yeah. What’s up?” He stops folding some of the shirts I had left hung up in the closet.

“I know that Chan and Seungmin have questions. I can’t go through the story again, but if they are helping they deserve to know why. You can tell them.” “Are you sure?” “Yes.”

“Alright, I’ll let them know.”

He walks away after giving me a soft smile, I go back into the bedroom and continue to put my clothes into my suitcases. I can hear Felix explaining the whole situation to them, they don’t ask any questions until he is finished explaining everything. I try to zone out what they are saying, not wanting to think about everything that has happened, again. I’m so in my head that I don’t hear anyone enter the bedroom, so when I feel arms wrap around me I jump in both parts shock and fear. When I turn around I see that it’s Chan, he has a sad look on his face and seeing that look makes me break out into tears. He wraps me in his arms, and with his support I know that with whatever happens I’ll be ok. I know that I not only have Felix on my side but I also have Chan, and maybe Seungmin but he hasn’t actually said anything. Before I can ask where Seungmin is, I hear a small knock on my door, when Chan and I turn we both see that Seungmin is standing there looking sheepish. I wave him over, he slowly walks over. I can tell that he’s hesitant to do anything so I make the decision for him and give him a quick hug, he eagerly returns the hug.

Back at Felix and Seungmin’s Dorm:

With the help of the three boys, we were able to pack up everything that I could think of that I owned that was in that apartment. I didn’t know why they brought me here after I insisted that they take me to a hotel. Felix refused, saying that they weren’t going to let me stay at a hotel. They would rather I stay at the dorms with them where they knew I was safe and wouldn’t have to worry about me confronting Hyunjin alone should he come looking for me.

I had no idea where I would be sleeping while I stayed with them, since there were only two rooms, meaning there were only two beds. When I got there, trying to figure out where to put my stuff went surprisingly better than I thought because Felix just carried it all into his room, taking away the question of where I would sleep. I didn’t want to kick him out of his own bed but he insisted that I take his bed, he’d either take the couch or find a blow up mattress of sorts.

“Felix, I really don’t want to kick you out of your bed.” “Nonsense, you wouldn’t be kicking me out. Especially since I offered.” “Felix, I can just sleep on the couch. It’s fine.” “Nonsense. You are not sleeping on the couch.”

Seungmin walks into the room carrying a sleeping mattress for Felix. He doesn’t say anything as he hands it over, I can tell that he’s tired and ready to go to bed himself. Felix bids Seungmin goodnight before turning back towards me. I can tell that Felix is also tired but he wants to make sure that I am comfortable before going to bed himself.

“Felix, I know you have the mattress. But where will you be sleeping?” “I was just planning on sleeping in the living room.” “I can’t kick you out of your bed and your room. And if I’m being honest I’d be more comfortable with you in the room. I don’t think that Hyunjin will be back anytime soon but a part of me is scared that he will be and I don’t want to be trapped in a room by myself.” “Y/n, you don’t owe an explanation. Of course I can stay in here on the floor. I want you to be as comfortable as possible while you are staying here, ok?” “Ok, again thank you Felix. I know that this is a lot to ask of you.” “It’s never too much to ask of me, I’d gladly help you.”

I can’t think of anything to say to him so I just walk up to him, instead giving him a hug. He immediately hugs me back, wrapping his arms tightly around me and pushing my head into him, trying his best to bring me comfort. Whenever I was upset, Hyunjin always made it seem like it was a burden to comfort me, to be there for me but here’s Felix, someone who barely knows me, who’s doing everything he can to make sure that I am comforted and supported even when he doesn’t need to.

Two Weeks Later:

I had been living with Felix and Seungmin now for two weeks. Hyunjin was supposed to be coming back within the next few days. I was scared that he was going to be angry, but I had barely heard anything from him while he was away and if I’m being honest that scared me even more. I didn’t know what he was thinking, how he was feeling, or if he would try anything when he saw that all of my things were out of the apartment.

I was trying to take a nap, when I realized that I had left one very important thing at the apartment that I once shared with Hyunjin. It was small and might seem insignificant to others but to me it was irreplaceable because it was given to me by a family member that was no longer living. I knew that I needed to get it but all of the boys were busy and I didn’t want to bother them. I didn’t think that Hyunjin would be back until tomorrow or the next day at least.

When I got there, I could tell that I was wrong, Hyunjin had come home early. I knew that I should have turned around and waited until either Seugnmin, Chan or Felix were available to come with me to get the stuffed animal but I was impatient and didn’t want to wait. I slowly pushed open the front door, finding Hyunjin bent over the kitchen counter reading the breakup note that I had left for him. I could tell by the way that his posture stiffened that he realized what it was and what had happened. When he heard the front door close softly he whipped around, the glare and anger in his eyes made my heart drop. I tried to turn around and leave but before I could, he was grabbing me by the hair and dragging me further into the apartment.

Hyunjin angrily threw me onto the couch, I tried to catch myself but wasn’t able to and ended up falling onto the floor. I tried to scramble away from him but he was on top of me before I could, his hands around my neck choking me.

“Hyunjin, stop. I can’t breathe.” I gasped the best I could with his hands on my neck.

“You think that you get to embarrass me by leaving with no explanation, and then break up with me?”

“Hyunjin, you're hurting me.” “Shut up, just shut up. You don’t get to decide when we are done, only I get to decide.” I try to fight against him but he still has the upper hand on me.

“Hyune. You are hurting me, I can’t breathe.” “Do you really think that I care about that right now?” “I-I’m sorry. I’ll come back, I’ll move back. Just please stop.” I whisper out, struggling. Tears fall from my eyes now, black dots crowd the corners of my vision.

“No, no you don’t get to come back on your word. I never want to see you again. Do I make myself clear, if I see you again I can’t guarantee that I won’t end your life. You useless whore.” He spits at me, spitting in my face in the process.

He pulls his hands away from my neck, getting off of me. As soon as he’s off of me, I scramble away from him, scared that if I don’t he will go back on his word and try to kill me again. It’s almost like a light switched in him when he notices that I already have bruises forming on my neck. He tries to get closer to me but I scramble back even further from him. I can see the remorse and guilt in his eyes, I can tell that he wants to say something but doesn’t know what to say. He looks disgusted in himself, by what he just did.

“Oh god. Oh god, what did I do?” He almost seems to ask himself.

“Y-you need help.” I cough out “Y-you’re right I do. Y/n, I am begging you, please call the cops. I don’t want to accidentally hurt you again. God I nearly killed you just now.” I don’t question him and rush for my phone, calling the police.

When everything is done, the police ask if I want to press charges against Hyunjin but I don’t. I know that he’s sick, he wouldn’t have had me call the police on him if he wasn’t. They decide that he needs to be monitored for a while, get onto meds that will help with these different episodes that he’s been having. As they wheel him out on the stretcher to take him to the hospital, he has them stop so that he can express his remorse one last time. When he’s gone the police officer asks if there is anyone that they can call for me, the first person that I can think of was Felix. I didn’t even hesitate when I gave them his contact information, I knew that I needed his support. I wouldn’t be ok until he was here with me, throughout the last two weeks he has been my rock, my safe place. I won’t feel safe until Felix is here with me, protecting me. The officer waits with me until Felix bursts through the doors, when he sees me and my current state he rushes over to me, pulling me into him. When the officer confirms that Felix is who he says he is, he leaves.

“Why didn’t you call me? I would have come with you.” Felix grabs my face gently, wiping my tears.

“I didn’t think that he would be home, he was supposed to come back tomorrow.” “That doesn’t matter. No matter what y/n I would have always gone with you.” “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bother you, or the others.” “I beg you, bother me. I don’t want to get a call from the police like that ever again.” “I-I’m sorry, can we just go home now?”

“Of course.”

Felix helps me down to his car, making sure I’m comfortably in the car before he rushes around to the other side and gets in himself. The drive to his dorm is silent, music playing in the background. It’s like neither of us know what to say to the other, I truly didn’t mean to scare him and I didn’t think Hyunjin would be back this soon but I now can see how that was poor thinking with everything that had happened.

When we get to the apartment, I’m tired and just want to nap. I can tell that Felix is still worried about me and I don’t want to cause him even more worry. He walks with me into his bedroom, ready to make sure that I can settle comfortably into the bed before he goes out into the living room. When I lie down, I realize that I don’t want to be alone, before Felix can leave I grab onto his hand.

“Is everything ok?” Felix questions, looking down at where I’m holding his hand.

“C-can you stay, just until I fall asleep? C-can you please h-hold me?”

“O-of course.” He almost hesitates but still motions for me to move over, I comply.

He climbs into the bed next to me, pulling me into him. I burrow my face into his neck, letting myself find comfort in his warmth, in his presence that has been a saving grace these last two weeks. He buries his face into my hair, pulling me into him even more, almost as if he needed this just as much as I did. Neither of us said anything, instead basicking in the comfort that we brought each other. I expected him to leave after I fell asleep but when I woke up a short while later, he was still there, holding me just as tight as when we fell asleep. I didn’t say or do anything, instead deciding to go back to sleep.

Six Months Later:

Much to my dismay and argument, Felix and Seungmin wouldn’t let me look for a new place to live. Insisting that the current living arrangement worked just fine, that there didn’t need to be any changes. Anytime that I tried to bring up the subject of moving out, they would find a way to change the subject and would act like it never happened. I didn’t want to keep freeloading off of them, I felt bad, feeling like I was using them. They constantly claimed that I wasn’t using them, that the fact that I would cook and clean for them, because let's face it, anytime these two tried to cook it was always a disaster, was enough for them.

To my surprise, a month ago Felix had invited me as his plus one to a Louis Vuitton event that he had to go to. I said yes, but I was super hesitant and nervous to go especially after what had happened the last time I had to go to an event like this. He promised me that it wouldn’t be like that this time, that he would be by my side the entire time. The second reason I was hesitant to go was because over the last six months of living with him and Seungmin, I had grown to like Felix and his sunshine personality. He kept his own emotions under check so well that I honestly couldn’t tell whether or not he felt the same, and I couldn’t just outright ask him.

Hyunjin had come back a month ago, he had been diagnosed with Bi-polar disorder. At first things had been extremely awkward within the group after they had heard about what happened, they needed to know since he was going to have to go on hiatus. I thought that when he came back I wouldn’t be ok being around him but when the others were around I was actually ok, I could handle seeing him. He knew that the relationship that we had was over, and he was ok with that. I think on a subconscious level he could see the relationship forming between Felix and I, and he knew that it would be a better fit than him and I. He was a silent supporter of whatever was happening between Felix and I.

To make me feel more comfortable about going with him to the event, Felix took me shopping for a new dress. One by the brand that he was an ambassador for, he wanted me to get the dress first so that his stylists could match his outfit to it. He had thought this whole night out so well that I couldn’t even argue that it was going to be fun, and the dress was absolutely stunning. It was a white floor length gown with a vee neck cut, and when I saw how Felix matched himself to it, I couldn’t help but feel special. He made sure that I felt included and felt like this was important that I felt comfortable with him at all times at the event.

Night of Event:

When we arrived at the event, I expected Felix to usher me off to the side so that he could do the photo-ops but instead he gave me a questioning look, almost as if asking if it was ok to be photographed with me. When I nodded to him that I was ok, he pulled me into him and stood in front of the cameras. I could tell that he was in his element and he was happy, happy to be here and happy to have me here with him. I smiled for the cameras, glad that he didn’t want me off to the side, rather right next to him. The more he made sure I was ok, the more I fell for him. I wasn’t sure how much longer I would be able to keep my feelings for him a secret.

When we got inside the event, he kept his hand on my waist, keeping me close to him. I was glad to have him there as a solid rock for me, if I had to be put into this situation again I wanted the memory to be a good one and not one like what had happened before. Everytime we stopped to talk to someone, he would look down at me smiling softly before continuing the conversation. I could feel my heart beating wildly in my chest, I couldn’t help the blush that was rising up my cheeks. If he noticed he didn’t say anything, rather he just pulled me into him even more as he talked to whoever had caught his attention at that moment. When they started announcing that the fashion show would start soon, I got nervous and scared that I would have to sit away from him but he tightened his grip on my waist and led me to the front row chairs that he had been assigned.

I thought that we would go to the after party when the show ended but he instead led me outside and down the steps towards the beach that he had seen me eyeing since we arrived. I was glad to be alone and away from prying eyes, even if it was just for a little while. I didn’t pay attention to the way that Felix looked at me, rather focusing on the ocean and the feel of the sand between my toes and the water flowing over my feet. I could feel Felix come stand next to me, if I had turned to look at him I would have noticed that he wasn’t looking out at the ocean but rather at me, with a look of pure love and adoration.

“Felix.” I say softly as I turn towards him.

“Hmm.” “I-I need to tell you something.” “What is it? You can tell me anything.” I look at him, taking a deep breath before I continue.

“I love you. I know it hasn’t been that long since Hyunjin but you have been my rock and safe place through it all and I honestly don’t know what I would have done without your support.” “Y/n, I love you too. I didn’t want to push you or make you uncomfortable so I always kept it to myself. Even before you dated Hyunjin.” “We really are fools in love.” I say looking at him.

“Yes, yes we are.” He grabs my waist, pulling me into him. I can feel his hands grab my face gently. He looks into my eyes.

“F-felix, c-can you k-kiss me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He says softly while leaning into me.

When Felix presses his lips onto mine, it’s not like what the movies describe. The hundreds of fireworks, or anything like that. The feeling of his lips on mine is like coming home on a cold night to a warm home, the perfect temp of hot cocoa, everything bright and sunny. It felt perfect, and I never wanted to stop. His hands moved from my face to in my hair and on my waist, pulling me into him even more. My arms wrapped around his neck as he deepened the kiss, I never wanted this feeling to end but I knew that both of us needed air and one of us had to pull away and I honestly don’t think that Felix was going to.

“That was the best kiss I have ever had.” Felix mumbled, pressing his lips to mine again in a short kiss.

“It was perfect.” “We should probably head back, before they send out a search party.” He jokes as he grabs my hand. Slowly leading me back to the steps up to the building where the after party was held.

As we walked hand in hand into the after party, I couldn’t keep the grin off my face and honestly neither could Felix. When one of his friends that I didn’t know walked up to us, I expected him to pull his hand away but instead he tightened his grip and found a way to include me into the conversation. When his friend asked who I was, I expected Felix to say that I was just a friend, something that Hyunjin would have done but instead he looked down at me and smiled before responding that I was his girlfriend. I knew Felix was different, but every time he proves it and it still surprises me.

Epilogue:

I knew that at some point we would have to tell the other boys that we were dating but both Felix and I agreed that we wanted to keep it to ourselves just for a little while longer. He still insisted that I live with him and Seungmin and I finally relented but my only stipulation was that he no longer slept on the floor but rather in the bed with me. He agreed without any hesitation, claiming that he could get unlimited cuddles from now on, but I think we both knew that his back was killing him from sleeping on the floor for so long.

We decided that we would tell the boys at one of their dance practices, later down the road when we were able to come up with a way to tell them that wouldn’t upset Hyunjin. But until then, we just focused on each other and the comfort that we got from each other.

I knew that Felix had an early morning, he knew that he had an early morning but neither of us wanted to let the other go when we heard his alarm going off. He planted kisses all over my face before coming down to my lips, I could get high off of his kisses. He gently pushed me onto my back, placing himself above me as he continued to kiss me. I knew that this was headed into dangerous territory and if it didn’t stop soon he would be late to practice.

“Lixie, you have to get ready for practice.”

“Come with me.” “What?” “Come with me to practice. I don’t want to hide, I want to openly love you.” “A-are you sure? Seungmin is the only one who knows and you know how he reacted.” “I’m sure, I want the others to know. Hell, I want the world to know that you are my girlfriend.” “You want to announce our relationship not only to the boys but also to Stay?” “Yes, I want to share my love for you with them.” “If you are sure, then so am I. I know that as long as I am with you, I’ll be ok.” “Then it’s settled, we’ll tell the boys and then I’ll speak with the media team to come up with a way to announce our relationship to Stay.”

“Sounds perfect.” I kissed him again.

He kissed me back with just as much fervor, I knew that he was going to be late today. Or at least that’s what I thought until the door burst open and Seungmin rushed in, hand over his eyes as he blindly reached for Felix. I could feel Felix being tugged off of me, I let out a small laugh at the sight of my poor boyfriend getting dragged away by his younger roommate.

“Sorry y/nnie, just following Channie Hyungs orders.” “It’s fine Minnie, I’m coming with you guys anyways.” “You are?” “Yes, Felix wants to tell the boys and Stay about our relationship.” “Sweet!.”

Seeing the excitement in Seungmin’s eyes at the prospect of Felix and I’s relationship not only becoming public but also being announced to the boys, gave me hope that everything in the long run would be ok. The look that Felix gave me, also told me that everything in the long run would be ok.

#lee felix x y/n #lee yongbok x reader #lee felix fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshots #lee felix #stray kids fluff

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zuzu-tries-to-write · 14 hours ago

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Falling for the Act

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Fake Dating, Slow Burn, Romance

(Guys I just started writing this fake dating enemies to lovers trope and I honestly think it’s pretty nice)

Part 1: The Deal

“I’d rather die than date you.”

Bakugo’s voice was sharp, his vermillion eyes burning into yours with pure irritation. You crossed your arms, mirroring his glare.

“Yeah? Well, same here, Dynamite,” you shot back. “But unless you have a better idea, this is our only option.”

It had started out as a simple problem. You were sick and tired of your nosy classmates always prying into your love life—or, rather, your lack of one. Somehow, a rumor had started that you had a massive crush on Todoroki, which was completely false, but no one seemed to believe you. Mina, Uraraka, and even Kaminari wouldn’t shut up about how “cute” you two would be together. And then, just when you thought things couldn’t get worse, Endeavor himself had invited you to dinner, clearly taking an interest in the alleged relationship.

You needed an out. A distraction. A reason for everyone to drop this ridiculous idea.

And unfortunately, the only person you could think of who would definitely kill any rumors of you liking Todoroki was Bakugo.

You weren’t friends. Hell, you could barely stand each other. But that was exactly why this would work. No one in their right mind would believe you had feelings for the most insufferable, hot-headed, loud-mouthed person in Class 1-A. And if you were dating him, no one would push the Todoroki agenda anymore.

“Let me get this straight,” Bakugo said, rubbing his temples as if this entire conversation was giving him a migraine. “You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend just so these extras shut the hell up?”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Yes, exactly. And in return, I’ll do whatever you want.”

That got his attention. Bakugo leaned back against the desk, arms crossed, considering your words. “Anything?”

“Within reason,” you clarified, narrowing your eyes. “I’m not committing murder for you, psycho.”

“Tch.” He scoffed, but the corners of his lips twitched, almost like he was amused.

For a moment, silence stretched between you. You could almost hear the gears turning in his head.

Finally, Bakugo exhaled sharply through his nose, looking more annoyed than anything. “Fine. But I’m not half-assing this, got it? If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. That means dates, PDA, the whole damn thing.”

You swallowed. The thought of having to actually act like you were in love with Bakugo made your skin heat up. This was supposed to be easy—fake some smiles, hold hands in front of people, and call it a day. But the way he was looking at you now, all serious and intense, made you realize that you may have just gotten yourself into something way more complicated.

“Yeah,” you muttered. “Got it.”

Little did you know, this was the beginning of something neither of you could control.

To be continued…

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2-old-to-guard · 1 day ago

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Sebastien, Booker, Le Livre

Alright then, let us begin with the sad french one!

*Disclaimer* - this is a long post, buckle up before reading

First Impression:

The first time we see Booker, he's riding a motocyle. Firstly, this serves as a cool visual. But also... all he's wearing on the bike is jeans, a short sleeved shirt and no helmet whilst swerving through the streets. We immedietly see that he's not too concerened about dying which could be foreshadowing his depression.

The second thing we learn about "The book" is that he likes to collect book, badum tish, when Andy gives him a "first edition Don Quixote". This mostly foreshadows Andy's fate (as will be explained in her analysis) but it also shows Booker's rather dismissive attitude towards life. A deleted scene shows Booker using scratch cards. This combined with his alcoholism and his expensive book collection, he uses habits like this to make him feel something.

Relationships:

Unlike Andy with Joe or Nicky, Booker and her don't hug until the Gousanville ambush. They just walk side by side and Andy gives him the book. This makes me believe that Booker doesn't respond to touched whilst Andy seems to rely on touch.

Booker and Nicky seem to have a playful rilvary though there isn't much to work with, they have very little scenes and the ones I can find are mostly about Nicky. But this scene does make me laugh as Booker is clearly enjoying annoying Nicky. It adds complexity to Booker as he clearly has strong connections with the other immortals and clearly loves them.

As I've talked about before, Joe and Booker is the most affectionate of Booker's relationship. Joe celebrates Booker's success in the bet and Booker turns to Joe when celebrating. Further explanation can be find here.

Foreshadowing Betrayal:

Watching the movie multiple times, I became intrigued on the ways they foreshadows his betrayel, focusing on the Sudan Mission.

Firstly, when Andy, Joe and Nicky are reuniting, Booker turns away from the affection. This, combined with "It's a job" cutting the playfull moment short, he's possibly trying to alienate himself from his family as he knows what he's about to do. You can also see something is wrong based on the look Copley gives him after Andy accepts the mission.

During the mission, Booker is the only one who doesn't react to the ambush. He frowns a little but otherwise doesn't appear surprised (gee I wonder why).

After the mission, he's mostly on damage control. Claiming he 'checked' Copley is clearly meant to foreshadow that Booker is on it.

When Nile is discovered, he's the only one who doesn't want to find her. This, while hinting to his betrayal, also shows his complexity. He doesn't want to subject Nile to experiments and so doesn't want to find her.

The Dreams:

Each of the immortals focus on different things from the dreams that show a part of their character.

As the youngest memeber of the group, he cannot see most of the dream and has little to contribute. Furthermore, the only thing he knows for certain is that he "felt her die". This shows Booker's focus on death.

In Nile's dream, all she sees of Booker is him drinking. Make of that what you will.

The Dinner Scene:

Booker's comment is met with laughter from Joe insted of concern. This clearly shows that his nilahism isn't a recent development and is seen as something endearing about his personality. Also justifys why the immortals didn't suspect his betrayel. He's not acting any different than usual. This almost serves as a metaphor for depression as there are usually little signs of people's depression worsening as they are trying to pretend.

I think it's interesting that Booker refers to his death like this. In the comics, Booker tries to desert the Napoleonic War and is hanged for his treason. I wonder if it was meant to be "fighting WITH Napoleon" and if this will be explored in the sequel. This desertion is integral to his character as it shows he wasn't meant to be a warrior and had no wish to fight, which adds another layer of tragedy to him being an eternal fighter.

These small moments, combined with Joe's chuckle earlier, implicity shows the relationship between the three men even though they don't have many scenes together. Booker laughs at Nicky's joke and looks to Joe after Quynh is brought up. He doesn't hate the couple, even though he holds a little bitterness, but he had become some consumed with his greif and sorrow that he doesn't consider what they would want and is willing to sacrifice them to achieve mortality.

This line foreshadows Booker's backstory and shows that he does care about Nile as he wants to protect her from pain.

The Goussainville Ambush:

Straight away, Copley not capturing Booker is suspicious. When you first watch it, you think it's just because he looks dead and the mercenaries don't know he's immortal. But when you rewatch, it's clear this was a plan to ensure that Andy was also captured.

Fan fact, this is the first time Andy and Booker touch and it is driven but the intense emotion of 'oh my god is Booker dead'. It is also directly follows an act of violence (Andy slapping Booker) which is an intresting choice.

This subtle acting choice is really interesting to me. Matthias seems to almost answer Andy's question before remembering that he's ✨betraying her✨ and then goes back to being 'clueless'.

Booker and Nile:

I think it's really sweet that Booker tries to comfort Nile while there's a hole in his chest. It's also incredibley ironic given how much Booker hates immortality. While some people ship the duo, I think it is more of a paternal realationship. It's unique to have the grieving character, especially a man, to be grieving children insted of a partner. Building Nile and Booker's relationship on this ground makes it feel more paternal than romantic to me.

Booker telling Nile his backstory comes in a really organic way, with him trying to convince her not to see her family. This is the first time in the movie that Booker's cynicism is recognised by the script as a bad thing. Up until this point, it's been just a character quirk but they give him the space to fully show the weight of immortality on Booker. Also Matthias slays this scene, ate and left no crumbs.

The Betrayel:

I could do a full analysis on this scene but I'll summerise here:

Andy holds such trust in Booker that she doesn't doubt he would've warned her about anyone arriving therefore, the only person who could be behind her is him. When Andy calls for Booker, he responds instantly with:

Shooting her in the back is such a gut punch, specifically for Andy. He knew he could get away with it because she trusts him so much.

This is the first time in the movie that Booker initiates physical contact with anyone and again, its an act of violence.

This line of dialogue is so beautifully tragic. It puts Booker's despair on full display. He's willing to make a deal with the devil so he's allowed to go to hell. It is also double sided as, of course, Andy is now mortal. But it also holds a level of deceit beacause if Andy wanted to be mortal then why did he feel the need to lie to her and set this up. Surely if she wanted it, she'd agree to the testing. Overall, Booker has allowed his greif to consume him and convince him to do anything to achieve mortality.

Despite that, when he realises that she is mortal, he immedietly tries to save her from the experiments that would kill her. It sort of shocks him into thinking, somewhat, clearly. But by then it's too late. Booker is a really good tragic character and follows the conventions well. He wants to be mortal so he lies, cheats and hurts his family. When he gets what he wants, another twist means that his goal is not what he wants anymore but by then it's too late.

The Lab:

This line is yet another example of Booker's irony. He seemingly forgets that Joe and Nicky KILLED each other when they first met, and for many years afterwards. It took them many years, possibly more than Booker's been alive, to find love. Furthermore, they now have to live and love with the knowledge they will eventually die at seemingly random. Booker combines cynicism with naivity as he is the young member of the group and therefore, doesn't view time as they do. Whilst they have lived long, he fears to.

However, Booker knows he made a mistake and wants to pay for it. At first, he wants to stay in the lab and suffer. But this is most likely guided by his depression as staying in the lab could result in his mortality. Subtly, he's still trying to die. But Andy, maybe seeing through this, shares her newfound mentality and he, feeling guilty, strives to help her.

Now Andy has expressed a desire to live, he honors that and helps her achieve that.

The Final Battle:

Knowing his mistake, Booker puts his all into helping the others.

I like the detail of him using military techniques with Nile (tapping her shoulder to let her know it's clear). It a subtle moment of him showing care for people with actions.

Also, this clip of Booker covering Joe and Nicky almost like he's trying to attone for his actions.

Second to Nicky, Booker runs over to Nile and helps her out of the car. This works as the penultimate climax to their relationship. Instead of just telling Nile to give up on her family, he offers her a new one. Also the expression he gives Andy as she approaches.

Banishment:

Booker's banishement is one of the most controversial parts of the movie but it works fully for me. Of course Joe and Nicky don't want to be around Booker for a while, he betrayed them in the worst possible way (which I'll delve into in their sections). As displayed throughout the movie, they trusted him completley and he hurt them. He knows this and I think that's why he says:

It's almost like wishful thinking. The looks between Joe and Booker break my heart as Marwan and Matthias are so easily able to convey the hurt and anger of Joe and the regret and acceptance from Booker.

This entire scene is heartbreaking tbh. This is the first moment of contact between Andy and Booker that doesn't end in violence. I think this is meant to symbolise the ways they have accepted their immortality or mortality respectively. Also, as Booker doesn't seem to like physical contact, having him initiate a hug almost appears to be him trying to comfort Andy about their new relationship.

Conclusion:

Booker is a really complicated character that is full of contridictions and stupidity but he's a unique part of the characters and adds most of the sorrow of the immortals. He serves to show the toll of immortality in the present insted of just showing it in the past.

All in all, I love the sad little French man and I'm glad he'll be back with the main cast in the sequel. Also Matthias Schoenaerts ate and left no crumbs

#the old guard #the old guard 2 #luca marinelli #sebastien le livre #booker #the sad french man needs a hug #TOG character analysis #netflix

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saeki-rina · 2 days ago

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It Is a Necessary Part of Loving Him

I’m really curious about how the conversation between Runaan and Ethari went when they discussed the assassin’s return before King Ezran of Katolis.

When did they talk about it? What words did Runaan use? How did he justify a meeting that could take away their life together forever—one they had only just regained? How did Ethari react? Did they argue about it? Did Ethari have any resentment toward Runaan? Did Runaan feel that his decision was causing Ethari pain? Did they consider together what they would do if Ezran decided to permanently imprison or execute Runaan? Would Runaan have wanted Ethari to move on—to find love again—if that happened? Did Ethari try to dissuade Runaan from meeting with Ezran? Or did he agree with him, even though it hurt? What were they thinking and feeling on the way to the meeting? How would they have acted if Ezran had chosen not to forgive Runaan? What happened between them after that conversation?

I see their relationship as full of love and mutual respect, but also deeply challenging because of Runaan’s profession. Even though Bloodmoon Huntress shows that Ethari is, in his mind, prepared for the possibility of losing Runaan, the show makes it clear that this doesn’t lessen his suffering in the slightest. That’s why I keep wondering—what went on inside Ethari when Runaan said he had to face the consequences of his actions?

Did he accept it with the same respect and understanding as he had for the calling that summoned Runaan away? Or deep down, did he wish Runaan were just a little less honorable—that he would put their family’s safety first? Even if he knew, logically, that would be an illusion—because this unresolved matter would likely never let Runaan rest. When they both understood how much Runaan had to lose after two years of imprisonment in the coin, did they truly say, out loud, how much Ethari had to lose as well?

And I'm very curious — did Ethari ever have a moment when he thought that loving Runaan was too painful—that it demanded too much of him?

Could this have been that moment—the decision to meet with Ezran?

Because no matter how much we love someone, no matter how much we understand that a necessary part of loving them is also accepting that they will make difficult decisions, no matter how much we have come to terms with the inherent risks of the relationship—sometimes, the situation can simply overwhelm us and make us question everything.

I’d love to hear your thoughts and opinions. And if anyone ever writes a fanfic (or if one already exists) about this Ruthari conversation or pre-canon when they handle the issue of Runaan's job, let me know—I’d love to read it!

#tdp runaan #tdp ethari #ruthari #tdp ezran #moonfam #ruthari reunion #tdp spoilers #tdp s7 #the mystery of aaravos #bloodmoon huntress #ruthari marriage #moonshadow elves #moonshadow assassin

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stateswscarlet · 2 days ago

Note

hi scarlet! 💚 this may be a long ramble ask so I apologize. I am curious if at any point in your LOASS journey, you felt like you let the law interfere with your relationship with imagination in a negative way. I am somewhat of a maladaptive daydreamer, and something I struggled with for the longest was feeling frustration over the times in the past where I daydreamed/visualized about my desires and wondered why those daydreams never manifested. Instead of bothering LOA bloggers about it, I took your guys advice to heart and actually studied source materials. No need to quibble over those things any more, because I know the answers to my own questions now (I was not embodying my desired states/accepting my desires as a present fact in my imagination! I was just pretending). I’ve been very gentle with myself and have forgiven myself for the frustration. Something I’ve been telling myself is that I didn’t do anything wrong with myimaginal acts, that changing self and embodying the wish fulfilled doesn’t have to be a big production. That I can continue to imagine the way I always have, only this time with the inner knowing that my imaginal me is who I really am, and I think it is helping me a lot with shifting to my desired states.

something I’ve been doing that makes me VERY happy is referring to my inner man as the “inner lady.” I visualize my inner lady with all of the things that I want to have (health for my loved ones, financial stability, my desired appearance, etc.). And then I tell myself “My inner lady has it, which means I have it too!” And it genuinely makes me so happy that even if doubts and worries about the 3d come, I let them pass because nothing can stop who I am being in my imagination! My inner lady knows the relief, beauty and confidence that I have denied myself of feeling for so long.

I also finally understand what you guys mean when you say faith cannot be built or taught. Faith is a CHOICE. You CHOOSE to believe imagination is reality, you CHOOSE to be FAITHFUL to imagination regardless of what the 3D is reflecting. To be honest I still struggle a bit with faith, but the funny part is that I realize I have been seeing a LOT of success with the law and with simple things reflecting. Even when you experience the proof of the law there will still be moments of doubt! So faith, no matter what, will always be me choosing to believe in my imagination because even 3D proof of my successes doesn’t instantly wash away the doubts! A revelation that has also been helping me a lot is understanding that my imagination does not care about my 3D circumstances and will never deny me of the things I want to experience! I really can have it all in my mind. There are some big things that I hope will reflect soon in my reality. I hope to be back some time to share more of my successes and thoughts. Your blog and tweets have helped a lot with my journey. Thank you!

omg i read this twice this makes me so happy!! you are so so right and i am so proud of you!!

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7postitsjumpingonabed · 1 day ago

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TF2 Mamma Mia! AU

Cannot over stress how it’s-on-the-tin this is.

If you’re curious, my qualifications for this are the fact I’ve seen the movie like 4 times and am currently in a production of the musical so I know my shit.

Also Mamma Mia! is a romcom so I’ll just say the roms I chose are Sniper/Scout, Spy/Ma, minor Heavy/Medic, and optional Soldier/Demo(I present two options).

That’s all the preamble, lets get into this

Sophie

Alright let’s start with the most important character, who is our bride-to-be and catalyst for the whole plot? Scout, of course. Did I mostly pick him because he has known familial relationships that are easily enough translated to these characters? Yes absolutely. Did I also pick him because he seems the type to think inviting three strangers who could be his dad to his wedding is a good idea, he seems the type to be excited over a large and exciting wedding, and is commonly characterized with some form of anxiety that would lead really well into ‘Under Attack’? Also yes absolutely. Broadly, I think that Scout’s young, enthusiastic, and not-forward thinking personality lines up well with Sophie. For this we are going to ignore the other 7 Willis boys as characters, sorry unnamed brothers Sophie is very significantly an only child.

Skye

A reader with baseline knowledge of Mamma Mia! and who read the preamble can easily guess that Sniper is my Skye. I chose him because I like Speeding Bullet, he would definitely prefer a quiet elopement over a big white wedding, and he is also commonly characterized as kind of whipped for Scout so I would see him begrudgingly accepting this wedding as his life and making it work. You may be seeing this and asking ‘Postit, how on earth are you getting Sniper to dance, sing, and do all that theater kid bullshit?’ And to that I raise two things, 1. that is making me think of a community theater AU and that’s absolutely hilarious and now I want to make it but as I write this I’m realizing he would be in lighting… alright anyway 2. Through musicals are things are possible so write that down. Scout and Sniper going off to travel together seems very accurate and cute as well.

Donna

Alright this one should be clear, it’s Scout’s Ma. In all honesty I did briefly consider having Spy in this role but the fact that Sophie wants her dad at her wedding to do dad things is really important to setting the plot in motion so I’ve relegated him to a different role. Anyway besides literally being Scout’s mom I think she fits well because despite her lack of characterization, from what we do know about her she is a no-nonsense hard worker, who is trying to move past old and questionable decisions, and support her son in what she thinks is a silly decision. Overall I just think she’s the best option and can be made to fit well.

Ali and Lisa

If you only have a passing knowledge of Mamma Mia! you might not know these characters, and honestly I considered combining them into one person because they don’t have large individual impacts but it just worked better to keep them both, but they’re Sophie’s friends and advisors, as well as generation counter parts to Rosie and Tanya. I chose Ms. Pauling and Pyro for these roles. I had really no ideas on this front so it got filled in near the end of planning but I think Pauling and Pyro work well enough. I think if Pauling and Scout can move past potential love

Sam Carmichael

Who else? It’s Spy. With Scout’s Ms as Donna there wasn’t really any other choice. Sam is sort of the prime father and ends up marrying Donna at the end of the story. The second act songs between him and Donna are all about the past, regrets, and missed opportunities and that goes perfectly with the implied dynamic between Spy and Scout’s Ma. In this AU ‘Loraine’ would be Spy’s job, he would leave to work it and come back only to find Ma with other men. Speaking of.

Harry Bright

Harry is contemplative, plays the guitar, and had a ‘rough’ past that doesn’t reflect his current quieter life? Now who does that sound like? Engineer isn’t canonically an ex-punk but the idea of him ‘headbanging’ is really funny. I largely chose him because of his demeanor and the irony of him being a punk in a previous life but the straight forward attitude and guitar playing are also very appropriate.

Bill Anderson

Heavy is my Bill Anderson because he’s the last reasonable man left, his writing associations, and the fact Bill’s two duets in the musical have him mostly responding to another’s behavior. After Heavy the men get a little more visibly insane, even on a picturesque Greek vacation. Bill is a writer and travel books aren’t exactly Russian lit but the general idea lines up. The role of Bill being quiet most of the time and being the first father to figure out his relation to Sophie feels very Heavy.

Rosie

Rosie is Donna’s friend that is on the wild side, never married, and ends up ‘taking a chance’ (imagine me lightly elbowing you at my joke) on Bill. Replace Bill with Heavy and that’s an in complete description of Medic. I can see Medic having not terrible, if not normal, friendships with people willing to embrace the lunacy. A lady who shot her shot with Spy of all people and raised Scout can definitely handle some lunacy. Also there’s a line somewhere, musical or movie, when Bill mentions having one of Rosie’s cookbooks, and that seems like a sweet, Red Oktoberfest thing to do.

Tanya

For lack of better option, Demo is my Tanya. There’s no particularly strong connections between them but Demo needs to go somewhere and Soldier is even worse of a fit for this role. Since this is where he’s going I’ll propose that, if the viewer desires so and is willing to lose the alignment of Tanya’s marriages with the one happening at the end, the series of failed marriages could be changed to jobs, which would give this hypothetical casting more cohesion.

Pepper and Eddy

The only merc left is Soldier and I think him as a largely unhelpful, partying, kind of a freak feels… not terrible. This is where my two options in the Soldier/Demo situation is explained, you can go classic ‘Does Your Mother Know?’ and set the two up as romantic counterparts or you could just have them as friends. Like, Soldier is a ‘bad’ influence and Demo is trying to be normal for Scout’s Ma but is having too much fun with Soldier to resist. I think both work fine and it depends on preferences. For Eddy I want an unenthusiastic Merasmus. We know that Soldier just harasses him and drags him into random scenarios so a reluctant Merasmus can fit as a variation on Eddy so the cast is all lined up.

That’s where my fan cast ends but I want to say that if anyone wants to work with this idea, go ahead but tag me so I can see! Also I’m still thinking about Spy!Donna so there might be a follow up…. But we’ll see. Thank you for reading!

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tobyisave · 2 days ago

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Omg hey! Thanks for taking the time to engage/share your thoughts even though you don't fully agree, I really appreciate it. And I don’t really disagree with you here, I just want to reply with my thoughts since you raised some interesting points!

Learned behaviors vs experiential gap: Absolutely the empathy/emotions thing is my weak link here, I'd call it a shameless projection that isn't necessarily supported by but consistent with canon lol. The only part I'd be reluctant to concede is the low empathy thing, but ultimately, an alternative interpretation where he's just really damn good at repressing is viable as well!

The learned behavior interpretation as you put it definitely makes sense, and I get the impression that it's more popular too. Kokichi's a really confusing guy and I think the interpretations we find most intuitive are probably going be the ones that relate his thought process to experiences we're familiar with, because that helps us grasp some semblance of humanity within him. All this to say I don't think there's anything that makes my explanation any better than yours; like you said, the truth is ambiguous, and I think it's best to gather as many different plausible interpretations as possible even if they don't lead to an "answer," because it lets us appreciate his writing and our relationship to our own interpretations. So I really appreciate you taking the time to put your version in words!

Gonta: On a similar note, I've basically lost hope that we'll ever know for certain what was going on in Kokichi's head here — and in spite of my giant footnote, I don't actually have a well-formed opinion myself — but I really like your point that his words gave Gonta peace of mind. Ironically I think I overlooked that angle because I didn't see a pragmatic reason to do anything solely for Gonta's benefit, since at this point Gonta's fate is sealed and his emotional state has no bearing on the future (aside from its effect on others, which has pretty much already maxed out with 'pity'). But consideration for the truth Gonta sees in his final moments makes total sense from the perspective of a Kokichi who's more emotionally 'typical,' and your interpretation is compelling; it gives more weight to the specific words he says, rather than just anything plausible to mislead people on why he's crying... I'll definitely have to think that over after this.

Paranoia: Another great point that I completely failed to address. I agree he's a little paranoid, or at least a reasonable amount of paranoid given the game they're in. Subbing that in as the cause of emotional disconnection in my analysis is really interesting... At the very least, I agree that paranoia would definitely add to the impression that these are all sham conversations. Though to confidently form an opinion on this I'd have to go back and look at the lies he tells in the killing game versus everyday life with that lens. My current impression is that his lying is too deeply ingrained to have developed situationally, so if I took his social detachment as a result of paranoia then I'd have to conclude that Kokichi is constantly paranoid. Which is not my opinion, but I'm sure it could be argued. In that case, in an everyday environment, the 'low empathy/emotion' version of Kokichi mostly neglects to tell people about himself because he doesn't care, while the 'learned behavior' + paranoia version actively avoids people knowing anything about him. Neither is an explanation of his lying per se, but the former would facilitate his compulsive lying, while the latter might not facilitate lying but does create a stronger motivation to lie.

Here and in other cases, I think a lot of the difference between these two headcanons just comes down to how good you think Kokichi is at acting and ignoring his emotions. 'Low empathy' Kokichi doesn't actually fight his instincts much, at least until shit really hits the fan, and that’s part of why that explanation appeals to me. Meanwhile 'learned behavior' Kokichi is frequently suppressing his instincts, successfully enough that I almost have trouble imagining someone being able to act that well (grain of salt, that’s *definitely* a blind spot for me - and more importantly, he is an Ultimate so I can’t put any kind of talent past him). My own reservations aside, the interpretation of Kokichi as someone naturally social who constantly has to fight his instincts definitely has its own merit; it’s emotionally compelling (in a pretty unique way that’s very different from mine) and probably more accessible as well.

Well, hope you didn't mind me writing an essay response to your response to my essay here lmao. I'm definitely starting to appreciate how challenging it is to figure this guy out; it's almost the opposite of the SDR2 problem, where Komaeda tells you his mindset from the get-go but the game never gives you a moment to recontextualize his actions after his death. V3 points at Kokichi and goes look, a mystery! we must recontextualize his actions! and then proceeds to give us basically nothing to go off of. All I can really aim to do is propose something with consistent internal logic, and I'm very glad if you think I managed to do that.

Again thanks for the rb, it's a treat to get such a long comment on my analysis!!

Character analysis: Why does Kokichi lie?

I think lying is more than just a means to an end for Kokichi, so this is my personal understanding of Kokichi's habitual lying, centered on the headcanon that he experiences his own emotions very weakly.

In a vain attempt to make this post more streamlined, I've isolated most textual examples into footnotes at the bottom; probably only read them if you don’t buy what I’m saying in the sentence prior. Lastly, if you disagree with something I say here and choose to make it known: probably read the footnotes first, and regardless please just be nice about it :')

"If I wanna become closer to Shuichi, I probably shouldn't lie so much... But that's my shtick... or more like, my way of life..." (Kokichi's inner thoughts from Salmon Team)

Small lies vs Big lies

To start this off, I need to clarify that there's (at least) two very different kinds of Kokichi lies. First are the “big” lies, like being the mastermind or lies about the nature of DICE. Big lies are consistent, told with a “straight face,” and well thought-out, because they usually serve some kind of strategic purpose [e.g. footnote 1]. But those aren't the kind of lies I'm aiming to explain here, because they're already well discussed and follow a pretty understandable logic.

I'm focusing on what I call "small" or compulsive lies: trivial claims & performed emotions that are usually not believed for long, either because they’re too outlandish or because he or someone else disproves them. For example, sobbing that he hates coffee and then asking for a cup of coffee; or telling the seance participants he's "actually super duper strong," despite knowing full well they're about to watch him struggle to carry the iron cage [more ex. in note 2]. Most of Kokichi's lies fall into this category imo, especially in low-stakes environments like Salmon Team and UTDP. Unlike big lies, "small" lies are somewhat unique to Kokichi, he tells/performs them constantly regardless of context, and they don’t serve a very clear purpose.

Masking

I think Kokichi got very good at performing emotions from a young age in order to mask the fact that he doesn't experience empathy or other emotions very strongly. And maybe that sounds like a very specific headcanon, but just stick with me here... [and/or see note 3 for one line of evidence]. Failing to emote convincingly would’ve not only made it difficult to exist in everyday society, but it probably would’ve put an even bigger target on his back as a criminal, too… So yeah, he learned.

But as it turns out, spending an (admittedly very short) lifetime pretending to have emotions you don’t actually have is a fantastic way to:

Start feeling detached from the people around you,

Start seeing everyone else as suckers for buying it, and

Very quickly lose any moral qualms about lying — after all, people would attack him from every direction if he was honest about his feelings towards them (or lack thereof), so how is it fair that they want to punish him for lying, too? There’s just no winning!

My interpretation boils down to this: Kokichi lies compulsively because he is deeply bored, and the kick he gets out of deceiving people is one of the only things he finds consistently rewarding about talking to them. Most social interactions already feel like lies to him because he is constantly forced to mask, so he might as well tell fun lies about being a supervillain instead of boring, easy lies about wanting to be friends with everyone.

(Continued under the cut)

Not all lies are strategic

I think it's easy to assume at first that the only reason to lie is for some sort of material influence: changing others' behavior or hiding undesirable truths, either for your own selfish gain or the greater good. Definitely, there is a purpose like that for most of Kokichi's "big" lies, and even some of his "small" ones (e.g. the kind of short-lived lies both he and Shuichi tell in order to advance the Class Trials). But even in retrospect, not every lie he tells can be explained with an external motivation like that, selfish OR unselfish.

I think telling "small" lies is more of a habit for Kokichi than a strategic choice, something he can't quit even when it becomes an actively bad strategy (hence "compulsive"). But if you’re already with me on this, feel free to just skip to the next section :P

A. Small lies aren't meant to be believed.

I don't think Kokichi tells lies in order to actually mislead people most of the time — because if he wanted people to believe his small lies, then he wouldn't be constantly retracting them. Many (or even most) of his small lies are soon followed up with “It’s a lie!”, either literally or by demonstrating/implying that it’s untrue [e.g. note 2 again]. [For some possible exceptions to this rule, see note 4].

Fig 1: Kokichi struggling not to give himself away after Monotarou believes his outlandish lie (V3 manga anthology). While I think this instance is a bit exaggerated, it nicely draws attention to the fact that he enjoys revealing his own lies.

By Kokichi's own doing, there is often a net 0 change in what people believe by the time they reach the end of a conversation with him. E.g. Kaede doesn't walk away from their FTE thinking Kokichi is her long-lost companion, Shuichi doesn't walk away from Salmon Team thinking Kokichi is obsessed with dumpster diving, etc. This suggests that Kokichi's not trying to change the perceived truth, he's just interested in the momentary act of tricking people.

B. Kokichi doesn’t tell small lies to alter his social standing, for better OR for worse.

I think the first half of this is self evident — I mean, if he was trying to gain status, he's doing a terrible job! He is aware of what behavior is required to make people like you and listen to you, and he is patently not doing that.

You might then argue that he’s doing the opposite: intentionally bombing his reputation to build up to Ch.5 so that people would readily believe he’s the mastermind. While I do think his annoying lies ended up helping on that front, I don’t think his mastermind plan is the cause of this behavior, because...

Firstly, we still see him lie constantly in contexts where there's no clear advantage to being hated (UTDP, Salmon Team).

Secondly: Crying wolf is one of many great strategies to make people hate you... but it is a uniquely terrible strategy to make people believe you. If you were really going to create an evil mastermind persona out of thin air, "pretending to be a lying attention-seeker" is just not the most logical way to go about it; that would only make it harder for you to convince people that you're actually being serious when you do the big reveal that you're the mastermind [for a note on Junko, see 5]. That's why I don't think the compulsive liar thing is an act; instead the evil persona we see in game is just the result of leaning into traits people already disliked about him. The reason he tells so many meaningless small lies during the killing game is just that he already was, and is, a compulsive liar.

Again, there are some "big" lies, lies he doesn't go back on, that he tells in order to tank his reputation (e.g. "The more you suffer, the more I enjoy it"). But those big lies aren't enhanced at all by the fact that he walks around telling people the sky is green, you know? That might make people hate him, but it's not the wisest way to do so while still maintaining control over people.

Finally, regarding the argument that he tanks his credibility in order to mask his own emotions, see note [6].

So, with all that said... Why even tell these lies, if they don't give him more control over the situation, his classmates, or the truth?

Boredom

I believe Kokichi’s small lies are primarily driven by boredom. Yes, his complaints of boredom are probably meant to tie him to Junko (narratively) and justify enjoying the killing game. But I do think he’s also genuinely, chronically bored. Just because he doesn’t have vivid emotions doesn’t mean his brain isn’t expecting him to have vivid emotions, if that makes sense, so there’s just a constant lack of stimulus that leaves him restless.

On that note, I think it's difficult for him to maintain interest in everyday conversations. There's not usually a lot at stake for him, because he doesn't feel much about the people around him, and isn't interested in pretending that he does just so they can feel "connected" to a version of him that doesn't actually exist [but see 7].

It doesn't matter to him which path he takes when navigating everyday social interactions, so if he has to get through those interactions anyway, he's going to take the road less traveled. Pointing fingers, confessing to murder, and spontaneously bursting into tears… it’s not usually to accomplish anything in particular. It's more like doing backflips in an empty prison cell: equally as useless as rotting on the floor, but marginally more entertaining.

Fig 2: Kokichi consciously using lies to entertain himself. His dissatisfaction with the lie appears to be unrelated to whether or not it was believed; I suspect this is because the claim was so mundane that convincing Shuichi of it wouldn't have been very impressive in the first place.

But what's actually fun about lying?

I think this constant need for entertainment is what motivates a lot of Kokichi's social behaviors, not just lying. But he clearly has a special relationship with lies in particular. I think this is partially because of his perception of himself as "fake" (in the literal sense), but more importantly because lies are a versatile, challenging, and (relatively) harmless way to get reactions out of people.

Lying poses creative and intellectual challenges: Introducing lies basically doubles the amount of social calculations required to participate in conversation [elaboration in note 8].

Lying creates artificial stakes by reimagining ordinary conversations as competitions. By playing a game of "how many times can I fool this person in one sitting?" he creates an internal motivation to engage in conversation and perform social behaviors convincingly (at least, for short periods of time). External pressures like “being liked” aren’t usually enough to motivate that.

Lying allows him to emotionally occupy extreme scenarios without actually creating extreme scenarios. If he wants to raise tensions high enough that he can actually feel them, lying is one of the less destructive ways to do so, because it's entirely verbal (including body language, that is) and thus avoids material risk/harm. Now that's not to say it doesn't hurt people [e.g. note 9]. In fact, that's often the point; I wouldn't call him a sadist in the traditional sense, but there is something gratifying about triggering twinges of guilt and empathy in yourself if you don't normally have access to those feelings.

All this to say, Kokichi's habitual small lies aren't driven by a desire to create genuine misunderstandings, or to make people do what he wants [note 10]. I think what he actually seeks from social situations is little bursts of catharsis from witnessing other people’s emotions, and the feeling of control or "winning" that comes solely from being able to deceive them and get those reactions.

Going "it's a lie!" right after is a really important part of this. It's a punchline, a tiny power trip, a kind of "Bingo!" he can use to declare victory. He doesn't necessarily want people to believe what he said, he just wants them to know that he totally got them and he'll do it again. Because what’s even the point of coming up with all these lies if people are just going to believe them and obliviously move on?

Lying as satire

Finally, and I’ll admit my thoughts on this aren’t quite as fleshed out, but I almost imagine Kokichi's lies as a form of satire, given that one of the few things he seems genuinely (?) passionate about is his right to lie. That is to say, it means something to him, in addition to being internally rewarding. He's had to present a false persona of himself from day one, after all — but now that he's a self-proclaimed bad guy, there's a lot less pressure to do it well. Performing those social behaviors in random, nonsensical patterns, and telling lies that feel just as true as the "honest conversation" he's learned to fake... it's like a form of indignant social button-mashing. It doesn't really matter if his performance conveys a coherent image of a person or not, because it was always arbitrary to him in the first place, you know?

….And I think I'm just going to stop myself there before this gets any longer. Tysm for reading!!!! <3

Disclaimer

…Actually that was a lie, let me get on my soapbox real quick. I think it's safe to say this essay hinges on Kokichi having some form of neurodivergence, however you want to label it. Personally I see him as having some antisocial traits, but I didn’t want to make that a silver bullet, and I thought it’d make more sense to just take the specific traits I see in him and work backwards from there. With that in mind, I want to make it abundantly clear that I don’t mean to assign any moral value to emotions. I can’t say this headcanon is entirely based on my own experiences, but there's a reason I connect with it, and I don't think anyone should be judged or labeled inhuman for emotions they do or do not have.

Moreover, while I explicitly take the stance that his emotions are morally neutral, I am explicitly NOT taking a stance on the morality of his behaviors. My intention here was just to explain them logically. Between you and me, just trust that I'm a Kokichi enjoyer and I did my best to consider things from his perspective.

Credits

Game screencaps from justonegamr and JakkHearts on Youtube. Manga screencap from Mangadex.

I also want to plug this analysis by @/g0nta-g0kuhara — I'm honestly not sure how much of my analysis aligns with/borrows from theirs, but it's definitely one of the posts that informs my current understanding of Kokichi, so it'd feel weird not to at least mention it. Consider giving it a read!

Finally, shout out to @thedaythatwas for peer reviewing this meta!!

Footnotes

These were mostly off the top of my head, so if I got anything wrong, feel free to (again, nicely) point it out ^^;

“Big lies serve a strategic purpose” Big lies are also what I'd call the "normal" type of lies, just like Maki's Child Caregiver lie, or Komaeda's fake bomb threat — they're meant to be believed and to influence people's decisions. Examples of Kokichi's "big lies": those he tells in order to impersonate the Mastermind (e.g. claiming he loves the killing game); lies to Miu (being oblivious to her murder plot) and Gonta (believing the Killing Game Busters is a good idea) for his Ch.4 scheme, and debatably DICE lies to protect himself and his Ultimate title (though for these I also think he just gets a kick out of trying to juggle such a big lie for so long).

“Small lies” An example of an "emotional" small lie is the times he bursts out crying; he's not necessarily making false claims, but his actions communicate feelings he doesn't have, and most of the time he'll follow up by reverting to a bored expression thus implicitly confessing to the lie. His claim that he can’t taste food is also a pretty good example of a verbal lie: it’s random, difficult to believe, and he immediately follows it up by saying he likes sweet and spicy things. (That last part was definitely intended to imply he was lying, but whether or not he was lying about lying depends on your hc… I personally choose to believe that he has a weak sense of taste and relies on “interesting” textures like carbonation, because I think it parallels my take on his reduced emotions in a fun way.) +++ For further examples, the majority of Kokichi's Salmon Team events are just him spouting random bullshit and then immediately taking it back.

"One line of evidence for reduced empathy/emotions": His thought process often reads to me like someone with low empathy; and his ability to rapidly switch between extreme emotional performances and total flatness suggests that, in his natural form, his internal reactions are either dull or don’t automatically reflect on his face. For example, when Kokichi "gets real" during trials, his expression often goes blank and he comes off as overly blunt/pragmatic (“Everything you said is total BS… You didn't give two shits about Tenko when she was alive." "How do you expect to find the culprit when you're all worried about each other's feelings?" "Why do you guys hate lies so much? […] And some of them are only white lies, or lies to be kind to people…") They're delivered flatly (voice/sprites, and phrasing to a lesser extent) and express frustration with people's hypocrisy around social norms. To me these are moments when he gets so fed up with the social dance taking everyone in circles that he has to step out for a second and drop the mask, even knowing that his true self will make people see him as inhuman. (I probably shouldn’t have to clarify, but for the record I say all this as someone with low empathy myself.) +++++ALSO: I want to credit @/g0nta-g0kuhara's meta for pointing out that Kokichi's expression goes flat in (different) honest moments - linked in credits above - although I ultimately interpret this in a slightly different way for his character.

"Some exceptions to the 'it's a lie' rule": His own thoughts and feelings, which are often kept ambiguous. Lies he doesn't need to retract because they're obviously false ("I hate liars!" or "I was born from the big tree behind Hope's Peak Academy..."). Small *non-compulsive* lies that serve a strategic purpose, like perjury to further the trials (though you could argue these too are "obviously false" and basically retract themselves after a moment of critical thinking; e.g. claiming he killed Angie (ch3), or debatably telling Himiko she mentioned the brick handrail (ch4) because he intentionally casts doubt over the lie by telling it very badly). And of course, he doesn't go back on his "big" lies or the lies that serve to support them.

“Compulsive lying isn’t the best way to impersonate the mastermind”: Although I think his lying is very connected to his boredom, and his boredom connects him to Junko Enoshima, I want to point out that he is unaware of Junko. To the viewers of Danganronpa 53, his behavior absolutely looks like the behavior of a mastermind… but there’s no reason for Kokichi himself to think that “someone pathologically bored who constantly switches personas” is the most believable caricature of the mastermind. I think that’s a coincidence that was engineered by Tsumugi, and from Kokichi’s perspective it’s just part of his personality.

"Tanking his credibility to mask his emotions": As some have pointed out, being constantly dishonest does make it easier for Kokichi to dismiss his own moments of vulnerability and keep his thoughts/feelings ambiguous (e.g. gracefully backing out of his love confession to Shuichi during the love suite by pretending he was joking. The idea that it's a prank is only believable to Shuichi because he already knows Kokichi likes to pull his leg in other ways). I don't disagree with this interpretation of Kokichi's lies, in fact it's a really fascinating angle and part of what makes interpreting him so challenging. However... I still don't think that's the ONLY reason he walks around telling people the sky is green. Its usefulness is pretty limited to cases like the love suite, where he's trying to 'test the waters' and back out if the first approach fails. A superficially similar example is when he cries for Gonta's execution and then whirls around with whole "I don't want to, stupidhead!" bit — he's not actually testing the waters here, because he never intended to go forward with the story 'I'm really sad about Gonta and I regret doing that;' even if you think the tears were real, the plan was always to retract it. What actually saves face for him here is the fact that he's able to stop crying and go on a straight-faced villain monologue afterwards — and all that was *required* to make that believable was his acting skills (admittedly helped by his "evil" reputation, but not necessarily by his "liar" reputation). In other words, I'm inclined to think it would have worked even if he had presented as 'honest but mean-spirited' up until this point. It's the same way Tsumugi can convince us in Ch.6 that she's evil and her grief for previous victims was an act, despite never having presented herself as a liar until now; Kokichi is lying about being a heartless villain, while Tsumugi (ostensibly) is not, but they have the same effect in the moment because their ability to switch rapidly between 'good' and 'evil' personas proves *in itself* that they're good actors, and that one of those personas must be false, regardless of how their honesty was perceived beforehand.

"Kokichi lacks emotional stake in other people": This is simply a headcanon I am positing because I think it has interesting implications for his relationship with lies. Please don't be mistaken when I say that Kokichi doesn't care about the people around him (all of the English words for "caring" are frustratingly ambiguous, in my opinion). I don't think Kokichi experiences "care" as an emotion very often, no, but that doesn't mean he can't take interest in people, have opinions on them, or "care about" them through his actions. Now, whether or not he actually does that.... is not the topic of this essay either!

"An intellectual challenge": To lie, you have to continually generate a false narrative (rather than just regurgitating the truth), you have to track which routes you've left open based on what you've already said, and you have to assess whether or not they believe you (...which are all similar to calculations you'd already be used to doing if you don't have empathy). If you want to win, you have to do all of this on the fly and do it really, really well. And once people know you're a liar, it not only gets harder to convince them of your lies, it also gets harder to convince them of the truth; once lies are introduced, the pressure to perform well pervades every part of the conversation. Of course, this is way more fun with bigger lies (like DICE lies, in my opinion), but the little ones still take a modest amount of effort (an amount he can afford to expend on a daily basis) and yield a much more immediate reward.

"Lying still hurts people": e.g. Kokichi accuses Kaede of strong arming everyone during the Death Road of Despair, then accuses everyone else of attacking her the following morning. This one is a complicated example because it was such an obvious lie that I really have trouble believing that he wanted anyone else to buy it (I really think the point was to annoy people and raise social tensions), but even though the lie was quickly pointed out, it still actually made everyone gang up on Kaede, to the point she leaves to cry in her room afterwards.

“Lying isn’t to make people do what he wants”: Again, I'm just talking about his everyday compulsive lying here. While he does use DICE related lies to make people do what he wants (e.g. make Shuichi hang out with him), I consider those part of his "big schemes" rather than his habitual behavior, since his claims about DICE are consistent, well thought-out, and long term. Not to mention, the veracity of those claims isn't too important to me, since he's already very transparent about the fact that he's trying to threaten people into doing his bidding in these cases.

#self rb #other #danganronpa #meta #long post #re: your tags - totally feel free to pick this apart more if you ever feel inclined!#as long as everythings civil/respectful which your reply definitely was

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