#and he wonders if he calls them friends because of who THEY are or because of the echoes meg sees in them

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hey i was wondering if itd be cool if i drew your abortion road trip lovers? and if it is cool do you have physical descriptions for them or general vibes or can i just make shit up?

lmaooooo @birdy-brained and I came up with whole character concepts for them, there's not a LOT in the way of physical descriptors but these are the vibes as I've been imagining them

Lids (he/him)

pregnant (uh oh)

5 foot nothing on a good day

hoped that T would give him a beard but he's got two (2) chin hairs

likes tattoos but doesn't have any cause he's Scared of needles (does his T in gel form)

pocketknife collection

wears a lot of ripped jeans + Don't Look At Me hoodies

fun patches though

acne

lives in a queer housing co-op from hell

can't drive

ANXIETY!!!!!

works as a 24/7 gas station cashier (hates it but kind of loves it)

Buck (they/them)

the sperm donor (rip)

6 foot two inches+

long hair (either wears it loose or a messy half bun) + mustache + short beard

covered in shitty tattoos; does stick and pokes as a side hustle

playing acoustic guitar in the coffee shop

dresses like a thrift store fucked a ren fair

likes big skirts

smudged eyeliner + chipped nail polish

lives with their former bandmates who tried to be a polycule then broke up and now they're not a band anymore :/

van friend

lethally chill. like, kind of pisses people off with how chill they are? please stand up for yourself, Buck.

has like five side hustles and 0 regular job

they fucked at a house show; they were both there because Lids' housemate's metamour's sister's boyfriend's college roommate was playing and Buck is friends with the college roommate.

anyway you absolutely 100% don't have to draw them like this, it's nowhere in the actual post and you're so free to imagine them however you want!! I strongly encourage that, this is just how the characters have shaped up for me since I first wrote the idea down lmao

also I'm tagging this as "abort mission" because that's what my housemate and I started calling the idea

[thesunloveschips]

Obsessed - Part 9 (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: After Azriel's mother reprimands him, he orchestrates another coincidence that leads to a reconciliation.

Warnings: Y/n being a bit naive and delulu. Azriel being the hopeless billionaire still in love because we all deserve a man like this. Azriel saying fluffy and corny things because we deserve men who say such things to us.

Word count: 3.6k

Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)

****

“You insensitive little shit.” Such a pleasant woman, his mother. “How dare you violate someone’s privacy?”

“Mum, I-”

“And this is how you approached her?” Clearly, Azriel’s mother had no intention of letting him speak.

“I-”

“There are many ways to meet new people, Azriel. The most common one being that you could’ve gone up to her and politely introduced yourself.”

“She would’ve rejected me.”

“She should definitely reject you after the stunt you pulled.” 

“How-”

“The audacity. . .” Needless to say, Azriel received a scolding for the next seventeen minutes. “Leave her alone, Azriel. You’ve hurt her immeasurably. Your devotion does not compensate for that.”

“I want her in my life.”

“Then start by giving her some space. Let her sort out her feelings.”

“She’s hurting.”

“You hurt her, in case you forgot.” Like his mother would ever let him forget. “And don’t creep around in your building’s common areas just to see her.”

“Yes.”

“If I hear anything otherwise, I will stop baking pineapple cake for Christmas.”

For those of you unfamiliar with Azriel, this was the most effective way to threaten him. With his favourite dessert. Or the lack thereof.

“Yes, mum.” But Azriel’s mind had already begun concocting ideas. He was the Chairman of Umbra for fuck’s sake. If he could run a billion-dollar empire, he could definitely get Y/n back.

“If you run a billion dollar empire then I gave birth to you. Mark my words, Azriel. If you loiter around her like an aimless fool, I will burn my recipe book.” 

His mother was a pleasant woman. Her threats did not involve bodily harm. But whether he’d be able to have his mother’s homemade desserts was still debatable. “I’ll call you later. It’s my turn for the appointment.”

“Bye, mum.”

“Maintain your distance.” And she ended the call. 

Azriel supposed Y/n would definitely like his mother as a mother-in-law. His mother would have a daughter to dote on and he could simply watch the two of them chatter while sipping coffee.

Y/n had an internship. At a university in another European country. As a research assistant to a professor. For three months. Then she’d return to her own university in the city where they first met and fell in love. 

Well, he fell in love and she was unaware but not to worry, everything would be fine. 

****

Azriel knew for certain that his events management abilities were applause worthy. Why wouldn’t they be?

Because the way he orchestrated his meeting with Y/n and ended up being her neighbour was something. 

And now, he’d orchestrate a few more events. 

Y/n’s internship had ended. 

It was a good thing for her professor that he was a well mannered, decent human being. Else, Azriel would’ve definitely intervened in a manner that wouldn’t have ended well. 

And now, she was back in the same city. She had just begun the second year of her master’s program. 

Wonderful. 

In three weeks, the reclusive chairman of Umbra would give his first guest lecture in a university. 

Was it a coincidence that this was the same university Y/n attended? Absolutely not.

Because Azriel did not wait around for things to happen. He made things happen. 

That’s how he reached where he was and he was definitely not going to be discouraged.  

She’d begun to shine again during her internship. Friends, both new and old, helped her navigate life. 

He hadn’t contacted her per his mother’s instructions. 

Some days, he’d just randomly opened their chat. He’d see her online and sometimes, he’d type but he never sent a message. And he never received one either. 

Azriel sighed. 

He looked at his choice of clothes for his guest lecture. The topic was his latest collaboration with Rhysand’s Velaris Corp to acquire Hewn Inc. 

He had to look so jaw droppingly handsome that Y/n would fly into his arms and they could run off into the sunset together. 

Black was his colour. 

He knew it.

And Y/n found him hot in black.

So it was decided. Black trousers, sweater, long trench coat. 

That’s how he found himself on the stage of an auditorium, holding a mic, giving a lecture, and answering questions posed by eager and foolish students alike. 

The lecture had ended. Some students and faculties stayed back for follow up questions. Azriel patiently answered all of them when he saw her. 

Y/n. 

And he was hers.

Immediately and undoubtedly hers.

What a sad time it was when he was not hers. A sad time spanning twenty-nine years of his life. 

“Excuse me.” And Azriel made his way towards her. But then he stopped when her gaze found him. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Fuck.

He wasn’t prepared for this. 

He thought he was but he wasn’t.

He hated it.

The sight of her entire body seized by the grief of his betrayal. Her emotions all over her face for him to read that Y/n had most definitely not moved on from him. 

Someone covered her from his line of sight. A face turned back with the glare of a demon. Nesta Archeron.

He sighed. And Nesta seemed offended that her glare had resulted in a sigh. She turned back and took his Y/n away. 

Azriel looked up at the sky as he pulled out his phone. He still didn’t look at the device. 

The evening pinks and violets painted the sky. Clouds were scarce. The moon was readying for its appearance. And Azriel was brooding.

A call came. A different ringtone. The one he’d set for her. 

“How many more lies?” A soft voice whispered. He knew she was referring to him not telling about his designation in Umbra. She’d thought him an ordinary employee. 

“As many as it takes to ensure your safety.” He breathed. 

“Why are you here?”

“Guest lecture.”

“And it happened to be right here?”

“Yeah.” It would happen anywhere she was. Guest lectures, conferences, and whatever the fuck that would give him a chance to see her and breathe the same air as her. 

A pause. The wind whispered something to him and danced with his hair for a while. “You’re beautiful.”

Silence. 

The call continued. And he felt oddly chaotic and calm. 

“Go away, Azriel.” 

“I cannot take impossible requests.” 

“Then take impossible orders and make it possible.” Y/n was firm. “Leave me alone.”

“I cannot.” And he knew his voice was shaky. 

“Why?”

“I need to know you’re safe, comfortable, and happy. It’s all that keeps me sane in your absence.” 

“What if I meet someone else?”

His breath hitched. “Safe, comfortable, and happy, Y/n. That’s where my selfishness for you extends.” 

“And you’re selfless in other areas?”

“You ended our relationship, Y/n, not my feelings. I will be jealous. I will be angry. But I will prioritise your safety, comfort, and happiness.” 

He’d limit it to that. Let her think that his feelings were warm and fuzzy like that favourite blanket of hers and not a mad obsession luring him into an abysmal terrain.

She did not need to know that he’d dismember and torture and slowly kill anybody who thought they had a chance with her. 

Azriel heard a sob. Some core part of him cracked. He looked in the direction where she had disappeared to with Nesta. She was not there.

He wanted to comfort her. 

Hold her and tell her not to cry because he’d make it all better. 

But he was the reason for her tears. 

So he remained silent.

Her cries slowly stopped and he heard footsteps through the phone. “What are you really doing here?” 

“I want to see you.” The footsteps paused. She was probably standing somewhere.

“You saw me.” She immediately threw the words as if they were an accusation.

“Didn’t see you enough.” 

She remained silent. Azriel really couldn’t believe he’d said that. He was a master at controlling his emotions. At least, until Y/n.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Umbra?”

“I wanted to hog you for myself. Not for the man who owns Umbra.” 

“You are that man.”

“I’ve always been Azriel. I did not own Umbra all my life.” The pain of being an illegitimate child suddenly came to the forefront of his mind. 

“And now it’s an inseparable part of you.”

“Not as inseparable as you think.” Because he’d leave it all behind for her. 

“I liked you, Azriel.” Everything paused. The pain in her voice made it all too evident that she still liked him. “I really did but this. . . This is just. .”

“I want another chance, Y/n.” 

“How can you ask such a thing?”

“Another chance with you knowing the full extent of what I will do for you.” 

“And what is this extent?”

“There’s no extent.”

“What?”

“There’s no extent, no line, no limit on what I will do for you.” And even if there was an extent he couldn’t recall right now, he knew Y/n was not unreasonable enough to demand for it. And if she was, then he’d simply comply.

“Does that extent also include violating my privacy? Disrespecting me? As long as you’ve secured my safety and happiness?” 

“There’s no line I won’t-”

“The problem wasn’t the line. The problem wasn’t Umbra. The problem was you hiding it all from me. The problem was you not asking my permission, not considering my feelings, while digging up everything about me like a mole rat.”

Azriel remained stunned. 

How had this slipped past him?

He’d thought he was careful with her feelings. And so, he’d resolved to only tell the good things. Things that wouldn’t be troublesome for her while wanting to know all about her and her problems so that he could eliminate them and make life easier for her. 

But was this a true relationship where he carried the burdens and she carried the joy? 

Weren’t they supposed to carry their lives together no matter the good or the bad?

“You hide things from me but you want to know everything about me so you just get someone to find it all.”

“I’m truly sorry, Y/n. I should’ve told you everything.” And since he hadn’t, he’d lost her. “I was desperate to have every bit of you.” But that desperation hadn’t entitled him to all those bits. “I’m sorry for violating your privacy.” He should’ve waited to know everything that comprised this wonderful woman. “I couldn’t wait. And I’ve now lost you.” 

“What am I even supposed to say?”

“You don’t have any obligation to say anything.” 

“I have no obligation to listen to you.” No, she didn’t. This call was just an act of mercy she granted owing to her own feelings for him that she couldn’t control. 

“Thank you for listening.” 

“I suppose you have more to say.” 

“I do.” He really wanted to say these words at their wedding. 

“Let’s meet.” She sniffled. “I want to know what exactly you know about me.” In the background, he could hear Nesta telling Y/n against it. 

“When are you free?” She gave him a time and venue. And Azriel motioned to the assistant who’d accompanied him that they were leaving. “I’ll meet you there.” 

Silence prevailed. The only sound was his own footsteps.

“Why are you not ending the call?”

“I’ve never ended any of our calls.” Because he’d always wanted to hear her voice. Even if she had anything to say at the last minute. They’d done that many times. 

“Bye.” And he couldn’t help his sad sigh. Azriel walked over to the venue even though there was time. 

****

Y/n was getting the lecture of her life. Nesta was incessantly rambling while she got ready. 

She’d spotted Azriel outside the Department of Business Studies after her classes had ended and she was heading back to her flat shared with her friend. 

“You have to be careful with him. Are you listening to me?” Nesta placed her hands on Y/n’s shoulders. 

“Yeah.” She slumped against her best friend.

“And it does not matter if he’s devilishly handsome or sexy or you had the best sex of your life with him or if you like him or love him or he likes you or loves you or-”

“I’ll be fine.” Nesta really didn’t have to remind her about Azriel’s attractiveness. 

“Really?” Nesta didn’t say it out loud but she knew her well enough. Her friend definitely thought that Y/n would reconcile with Azriel. 

“Yeah.”

Nesta took her in a hug. “Got your pepper spray?” 

“Mhm.”

“So the first thing you do is to spray it. Spray it all over his unnecessarily pretty face.” Y/n remembered the first time she’d talked to Nesta about Azriel and she’d used the words ‘unnecessarily pretty’ to describe him.

“I’m going there to talk.”

“Then spray it on his eyes and ears.”

“All right.” Y/n chuckled. She knew her friend was furious at this man she’d never even met.

It had taken her a while to revive herself. The depth of her feelings for Azriel revealed itself to her only upon his betrayal. 

And she felt like she was heading to war. It probably was, in a sense. 

Y/n reached the park ten minutes before but she loitered around, her nerves wracking and snapping against her, telling her to leave. 

“Y/n.” She’d recognise that voice. She was weak for him like that. 

Y/n turned and saw him dressed for a funeral. In black. 

Any other day and she would’ve thought he looked hot but today when she was a miserable mess with no rein over her feelings, she worried for herself.

Was he going to kill her and chop her body and scatter the pieces in some sewer like he’d done with her heart? 

“Azriel.” Yep. She sounded weak. Affected. 

He took a step forward, the leaves crunching beneath his shoe. Y/n took a step back. 

This conversation was definitely going to be difficult. 

“Would you like me to remain at a distance?” He asked, gently. And she was reminded of the times when this man simply clung to her frame because he didn’t want to let go. In bed, the bath, all around their apartments.  

“Yes.” She breathed. “What do you know about me?”

And he narrated her own story. 

About her pathetic family, her horrifying mother, her counselling sessions from high school, all the people who hurt her, all the people she’d ever befriended. 

He knew everything that had ever been documented about her. 

At the end of his revelation, she simply closed her eyes and sighed. 

“I won’t tell anyone.” He promised solemnly. Was his word worth anything now? Or wasn’t it?

“Am I supposed to trust that?” She dryly asked. And with those words, she’d hurt him. She saw the hurt painted on his face like a dark stain. And fury pumped through her veins.

“You’re not entitled to feel hurt.” How dare he pretend he was the victim here? “Not after this.” She stood up and grabbed her sling bag and phone. Azriel immediately stood up. “I. .” But she really had nothing to say. 

Y/n didn’t know what he was going to do with all that information. But maybe it didn’t matter since he had the resources to do that to anyone. He could keep tabs on her for the rest of her miserable life. 

Even then, no matter how long and hard she thought about it, she didn’t mind. 

She didn’t mind him keeping tabs on her.

She didn’t mind him knowing where she was and what she was doing. She’d told him enough of that herself while they were together and happy.

In a way, she understood it. Maybe she even liked it. 

Y/n was honestly only bothered by him hiding this. By him digging her past out of a box she wasn’t ready to open in front of him. 

Was this devotion? 

Or simply madness?

“I won’t tell you that I wouldn’t do it if we went back in time because I would.” Oh, he was hell bent on making this difficult.

“You could’ve told me.” She whispered. “That you were having me followed.” 

Y/n closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before she continued. 

“And you should’ve waited for me to tell you everything.” All that fucked up part of her, a product of her mother’s parenting skills. “You have the nerve to dig into my past and yet, you kept yours hidden. You’ve kept your life hidden from me and I respected that.” 

Y/n held up a hand when she saw Azriel open his mouth to speak. He had such a beautiful mouth. She wanted him to kiss her. 

“I’m not interested in you knowing everything and that too without my knowledge and permission while I know nearly nothing about you. And before you ask, information on Google does not count.” 

“I’m an illegitimate child.” What? 

Y/n remained shocked as Azriel told her his story. Of how his father and brothers mistreated him and his mother, how he killed them before he took over Umbra.

“Why did you tell me? You had no obligation.” Gods, she really was weak for this man. And for him to be so emotionally vulnerable in front of her made her want to hug him. 

“Because now I realise that a romance is also to be a partnership. It shouldn’t be me knowing everything while you live obliviously. You have as much right to know.” 

Yep, she was doomed. 

Her resolve was faltering. And she was feeling and falling. 

The hot chocolate in front of her that she’d ordered as a formality was cooling down. 

“One chance.” She whispered, praying silently that he wouldn’t break her heart again. “And that will be your last one.” 

****

Azriel knew failure. Many different types of it. He’d known it when he failed his first test. When he lost his first fight. When his applications were rejected. When he had been rejected by friends, girlfriends, his father, his half-brothers, his stepmother. 

So much had been taken from him. And he’d been pushed to the edge of the world before he found the resolve to stand up. It was the sight of his mother cringing in front of his father. 

And then he concocted his wonderful five-year plan. At the end of it, Umbra was his. His mother, safe and comfortable. His father and half-brother, dead. And that wretch of a stepmother, practically exiled. 

And then he’d lost Y/n, truly and completely. 

Azriel wanted Y/n. He’d spent the best few months of his life with her. 

She made him endlessly happy and he tried his best to do the same for her. 

He knew her presence in his life was a privilege. But now it seemed like he’d never taken that privilege seriously and had never respected it in the manner he should have. 

So when she gave him one last chance, he’d been revived. His posture changed, eyes widening. Every movement right then felt as though he was rising from the grave or a coffin and returning to the land of the living. 

Honesty. That would now be an integral part of this relationship. There would be no excuses. And then he remembered something he’d caused. 

Azriel debated telling her but since secrecy had never worked in his favour in this relationship, he made his decision. “So, remember your ex?”

Y/n frowned. “Which one?”

“The one from college.” He was unprecedentedly nervous. 

“Yeah.”

“The one roped into a tax fraud.”

“Yeah?” Y/n blinked and leaned forward. “You did that?”

Azriel nodded quietly. She slumped back into her seat and sighed. “Well, he’s no longer my concern. Do I have to convince you to move on from him?”

“He hasn’t gotten enough.” 

“And he deserves no effort from anybody, the good or the bad. Anything else you want to tell me?” 

“I’ve never had a proper relationship before.” Her eyes widened and she kept looking at him as if she’d never seen him before. Why would she do that? 

“How come?” 

Why was she asking such a question? Wasn’t it obvious why he’d never been in a proper, serious relationship. “Because I’d never met you before.”

Silence prevailed. Y/n looked away in that adorable manner of hers, clearly blushing. And Azriel couldn’t help his smile. “Does that surprise you?”

She glared at him and then stood up. The evening wind was cool and felt pleasant on her face. Y/n looked around, finally noticing the park around her. 

People were in pairs, walking or simply sitting. Couples, most likely. 

And then there was her. With him. On a bench. Sitting at a distance. Azriel really wanted that distance to vanish. So he called her name. 

Y/n looked back at him and he was already looking back at her. “I swear to all the hot chocolate in the world, Azriel. If you ever pull a stunt like this, I’m leaving you.”

He took a step forward. And another. She did not move from her place. “May I?” 

“Yes.” She breathed, eyes closing. Memories sprung forth like a fountain from all the times they'd kissed.

He pressed his lips on her forehead before promising. “I won’t pull a stunt like this. Ever. And if you do leave me, you will be leaving with my heart as you did three months ago.”

“And you’ll give guest lectures to see me even after that?” Y/n leaned into his touch and smiled. The first smile in months. He felt some semblance of peace settle in his heart.

“A Ted Talk, if needed.” Azriel smiled at her faintly. And behind his smile, he really hoped for their future.

****

Taglist:

@fantanbietsson @angstylittleb1tch @fhgsvbnh @olive-main @cherryjain17 @halo-mystic @starofanotherworld @latinxbipride @viatorem-maris @acotarbestie @sevikas-whore @anthonys-viscountess @randomgurl2326 @thelov3lybookworm @cat-or-kitten @mortqlprojections @tele86 @rorel1a @red0202 @atomictyphoonkitten @colorfulgardenerduck @scarsandallaz @anonymousdisco @rcarbo1 @workof-a-rr-t @fuckingsimp4azriel @isabella13dusk @donnadiddadog @yannnnooooxoxox-blog @nxgh1 @thedeviltohisangel @katherinebright @fandomtrash5092 @epicsweetness712 @anik-4 @hitsxbikbv @julesvanslutta @fae-dreamer-99 @cartonkid1200 @anainkandpaper @yourwonderbelle @stefbroo @imjustagirl713 @bbykaixx @lilah-asteria

[killerelysia]

MISTER x SHOUJO - Subaru Oogami x G.N Reader part 1!

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don't interact!

Words: 16000

Genre: G.N Reader (Fluff, Angst!)

Summary: You and Geo navigate an unconventional relationship built on misunderstanding, tension, and unexpected moments of connection. After a lie spirals out of control, rumors spread that Geo is your boyfriend, much to the confusion of everyone around you—including Geo himself. Despite his cold and hostile demeanor, Geo reluctantly agrees to play along, but only for his own peace and solitude.

Geo’s sharp, broody personality often leaves you feeling uncertain and overwhelmed. He doesn’t hesitate to criticize you, flick your forehead when you talk back, or scold you for minor mistakes. Yet, he also protects you, whether from prying classmates or persistent admirers, and even takes your hand to make a show of your "relationship" when his friends are watching.

( Reader is a g.n!)-

Trigger Warning: This content contains themes of

Tension-filled dynamics with elements of power imbalance and verbal hostility's

Rumors and social pressures leading to feelings of alienation and discomfort.

Physical gestures of dominance (e.g., flicking foreheads, pinching).

Underlying themes of unresolved trauma and complex family dynamics

Solivan Brugmanisa

Violence, Blood

EXTRA: He's a character from a game named The kid at the back!! Note, Been reading a lot of Shoujo mangas why not! Make Geo and reader in such a simple plot!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO SUBARU OOGAMI!! 15K SPECIAL FOR MY BOY

Reader is Sol's sibling!

In the daytime, you’re Y/n Brugmansia.

Just a normal person living an ordinary life—or so everyone thinks. Because there’s something about you that no one knows yet.

You have a secret.

Your brother is a stalker.

Yes, your brother. Your blood, your family, the one person who’s supposed to have your back. Instead, he’s an emo, obsessive creep with a fixation that makes your skin crawl. The kind of guy who lurks in the shadows, watching, scheming.

But this isn’t just about him. No, your life was thrown into chaos the moment you set foot in that school.

The Hierarchy.

You weren’t supposed to be there. It was a place for the elite, for the kids whose families could pay their way to success. For you, though? It was your scholarship that got you in—a ticket earned with late nights and relentless effort. While others coasted on their wealth, you clawed your way up with sheer determination.

But this place? It doesn’t care about how hard you worked. They only value your worth—the kind that comes with a price tag. If you can’t keep up, you’ll be discarded, just like the others before you.

You’ve heard the stories.

Students who didn’t meet the school’s impossible standards, quietly shuffled to the “other building.” The one for failures. The ones who didn’t fit the image of perfection. A few were expelled altogether, their names erased from the records like they’d never existed.

The students here don’t like you either. You’re an outsider, after all. Not one of them. Surviving without being bullied or set up for things you didn’t do? That’s a challenge in itself. And every misstep feels like a calculated attempt to push you out.

Then there’s your brother.

You don’t live with him anymore—you couldn’t bear it. Not after what he’s become. He’s obsessed, twisted, a shell of the person you once knew. The kind of person who might even hurt you if it came down to it.

And yet, a small part of you wonders: does he care?

The thought of it makes you feel... something. Hope? Comfort? You’re not sure if it’s worth the cost.

But it’s not just him.

You still have Hyugo. Your childhood friend. And Subaru—though you hesitate to call him that anymore. You three used to be close, inseparable even. But that closeness shattered the day something happened.

Subaru changed.

He stopped talking to you, his warmth replaced with an icy indifference. The sweet, playful boy you knew became someone cold, sharp, and unrecognizable.

You don’t know if you’ll ever fix what’s broken.

And honestly, you’re not sure if this place will let you try.

It has been years since you seen him...

You’ve tried to explain it once.

The exhaustion, the loneliness, the way it eats away at you day by day. How studying and living alone isn’t glamorous or freeing—it’s a slow grind, a life that wears you down until you’re nothing but raw nerves and a hollowed-out shell.

But no one really gets it.

They see your grades, your hard-earned scholarship, and think you’ve got it all together. They don’t see the hours you spend hunched over textbooks, eyes burning under the dim glow of your desk lamp. They don’t see the pile of instant noodle cups next to your trash can because cooking is too much work when you’ve been running on fumes for days.

You’ve told yourself it’s fine. That it’s temporary. That sacrificing your health, your happiness, is just part of the process. But some nights, when the silence of your apartment becomes unbearable, you wonder if this is all life will ever be.

Unhealthy. Unhappy. Alone.

It wasn’t always like this. You remember what it was like to have a family. A real family. Before things fell apart. Before your brother became... well, him.

But now, it’s just you.

You wake up every morning in the same cramped room, surrounded by the same cheap furniture you’ve been dragging from one place to the next. You work hard. You study harder. But no matter how much effort you put in, it never feels like enough.

There’s always another exam to ace, another essay to write, another hurdle to jump over just to prove you belong.

Belong where, though?

This school? These people? The ones who sneer at you in the hallways and whisper behind your back? The ones who’ll never see you as one of them because you don’t come from money, because you don’t have their polished, picture-perfect lives?

You’re surviving on scraps. Scraps of energy, scraps of time, scraps of whatever you can salvage from the wreckage of your days. You’ve forgotten what it feels like to sit down and eat a proper meal. To relax without guilt clawing at the back of your mind.

Even sleep feels like a luxury now.

Some nights, you lie awake staring at the ceiling, your chest tight with thoughts you can’t shake off. You wonder what your life would be like if you weren’t so alone.

If you had someone—anyone—to share the burden with.

But then you remind yourself why you’ve done this. Why you left. Why you worked so hard to distance yourself from your brother, from everything he’s become.

You hated what he turned into.

The obsession, the darkness, the way he seemed to spiral further and further into madness with every passing day. You told yourself you couldn’t live like that. That you wouldn’t let him drag you down with him.

But even now, you can’t stop thinking about him.

Because no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, he’s still your brother. The same boy who used to pull you out of bad dreams and promise to protect you from everything scary in the world.

What changed? When did everything fall apart?

You hate him. You miss him. You hate that you miss him.

And then there’s Subaru.

Once upon a time, you thought you understood him. Thought the two of you were inseparable, that nothing could ever come between you.

But now, every interaction with him feels like walking on shards of glass. He’s distant, cold, like he doesn’t care anymore. Like you’re just another face in the crowd.

And maybe that’s what you are now.

Just another face, another name, another person struggling to stay afloat in a world that doesn’t care if you sink.

But even as these thoughts weigh on you, you refuse to give up.

Because giving up isn’t an option.

Not for you.

You’ve worked too hard, sacrificed too much to let it all go to waste now. Even if it means eating nothing but instant noodles for another month. Even if it means enduring the whispers and the stares, the isolation and the exhaustion.

You’ll keep going.

Because at the end of the day, this is all you have.

Your work. Your drive. The dream of something better waiting for you on the other side of all this.

And if you have to face it alone?

So be it.

You’ve been alone before. You’ll survive. You always do.

That day came.

The day when you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

You’d had enough. The isolation. The pressure. The constant fight to keep up with everything and everyone. It was suffocating, like you were being dragged under by a tide you couldn’t control. And in the midst of it all, there he was.

Hyugo.

You hadn’t seen him in so long, but there he was, standing before you on the crowded street, his gaze soft as he noticed you.

“Y/n… is that you?” His voice was gentle, as if he’d just stepped out of a dream.

You froze, your chest tightening. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You wanted to run, to pretend like everything was fine, but you couldn’t. Not anymore.

Before you even realized what was happening, the dam broke.

You nearly crumpled right in front of him. Your throat burned with the emotion you’d kept bottled up for so long—anger, sadness, frustration—and it all poured out at once. You didn’t want him to see you like this, to witness your weakness. But it was too late. The tears came anyway.

Hyugo must’ve seen the pain in your eyes, because without a word, he pulled you gently into a nearby cafe.

The warmth of the room felt almost suffocating, but the air was filled with the rich scent of coffee, a distraction from the storm inside you. You sat down across from him, your hands trembling as you gripped the coffee cup, trying to steady yourself.

Before you could say anything, Hyugo spoke, his voice calm but observant. “Your eyes... they’re almost like Sol’s.”

The mention of Sol’s name struck you like a lightning bolt, but instead of reacting, you clung to the cup harder. You didn’t want to hear his name. You didn’t want to think about him.

“I... I hate him,” you managed to choke out, voice breaking. “I hate what he’s become.”

Hyugo watched you carefully, as if weighing his next words, before asking softly, “What about your studies? How’s everything going?”

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of the question almost unbearable. You had been running from the truth for so long, but you couldn’t lie to him. Not anymore.

“It’s fine,” you said, though the words felt like they were scraping against your throat.

Hyugo didn’t believe you. You could see it in the way his brows furrowed, his eyes narrowing with concern. “No, it’s not. You almost broke the glass just holding that cup. Y/n, what’s going on?”

The words were like a trigger, and suddenly you couldn’t hold back. The tears spilled over as you let out a shaky breath. “They’re tormenting me, Hyugo. They blame me for things I didn’t do. They keep talking... rubbish, nonsense, and I just—I just want it to stop!” Your voice cracked with the weight of everything you’d been bottling up. “I wish they’d all just... die!”

The anger surged inside you, but it was swallowed by the crushing despair. You gripped the cup even harder, your knuckles white, trying to contain the flood of emotion that threatened to tear you apart.

“Why... why do you even support him? Why do you care about my brother? He’s insane, Hyugo! He’s delusional!” The words came out like a scream, as if you were pleading for him to understand. “Why do you support him like a... like a mother?! Why do you even put up with his bullshit?”

Hyugo’s face softened, and he leaned forward, his voice low but firm. “Even if he does... things... even if he’s lost himself, I still care about him. And you, Y/n. I care about you, too.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stared at him, your chest tight, unable to comprehend what he was saying.

“I need to go,” you muttered, standing abruptly from the table, your chair screeching against the floor. Hyugo looked at you with concern, his hand twitching as if to stop you, but he didn’t.

“Go where?” he asked, his voice steady but questioning.

“Home,” you replied, your tone clipped. “The goons... they’ll be waiting. Around 7 p.m., maybe earlier if I’m unlucky. I need to escape before they find me. I can’t—” Your words were sharp, urgent, spilling out faster than you intended.

Hyugo’s brow furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Y/n, you can’t keep running like this.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. There was no point in explaining further. You grabbed your bag and left the cafe without another word, your mind racing as you hurried down the street. The world outside was darker than you expected, the evening chill cutting through your jacket as you quickened your pace.

Every shadow felt alive, every movement in your peripheral vision like a threat waiting to pounce.

The next day came like a blur.

You didn’t get much sleep—if any at all—but you forced yourself to get up and go to class. As you walked into the building, something felt... off. The air was heavier, charged with something you couldn’t quite name.

You pushed open the classroom door, and that’s when you noticed it.

Everyone was looking at you.

Not the usual stares of indifference or mild disdain. These looks were different—wide eyes, hushed whispers, the faint rustle of papers as students leaned toward each other to mutter under their breath.

Disgusted. Scared.

The rich kids, the goons who never paid you any mind, suddenly couldn’t seem to look away. Their sneers were gone, replaced by something that almost resembled unease.

You froze for a moment, the weight of their gazes pressing down on you like a physical force. Then, forcing yourself to keep moving, you headed toward your usual seat at the back of the class.

The kid who usually sat there, slouched and half-asleep, glanced at you briefly before muttering something under his breath and moving to another seat.

Fine. You didn’t care.

You sat down, pulling out your books and pretending to read. But you could feel it—their eyes on you. Every single one of them.

Your throat tightened as you flipped through the pages, the words blurring together into meaningless lines. You couldn’t focus. You couldn’t think.

What the hell was going on?

You stayed quiet, trying to shrink into yourself, but it didn’t help. The whispers grew louder, the stares more pointed. Some students didn’t even bother to hide it, their eyes burning holes into you as if you were something they couldn’t comprehend.

It didn’t make sense. Yesterday, they hated you because you were poor, because you didn’t belong here. But now?

Now, they looked at you like you were something to be afraid of.

You gripped the edge of your desk, your knuckles turning white as you fought the urge to scream. To demand an explanation. To tell them to stop.

But you didn’t.

You sat there in silence, the noise around you growing louder and louder until it was all you could hear.

And you didn’t u

The tension in the room reached its peak when the teacher walked in. You were too distracted by the whispers, the stares, and the suffocating atmosphere to notice her at first. But her sudden gasp caught your attention.

She froze, staring at you as if she’d seen a ghost. Her face paled, and for a moment, she didn’t speak, her lips parting and closing as though she was struggling to find words.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “They didn’t inform you?”

You blinked, confused. “Inform me about what?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she moved quickly toward you, grabbing your arm—not harshly, but urgently. Her hand trembled slightly as she pulled you out of your seat. “Come with me. Now.”

The whispers grew louder as she dragged you through the room, her pace brisk, her movements almost frantic. You looked back at the other students, their eyes glued to you, their hushed voices cutting through the silence like knives.

And then you heard it.

“…their brother hurt them so much…”

Your breath hitched. Your brother? What were they talking about?

“What do you mean?” you demanded, your voice trembling. “What’s going on?”

But the teacher didn’t answer. She didn’t even look at you as she led you through the hallway, her grip on your arm tightening.

Your heart raced. The whispers, the stares, the fear—it all felt like it was closing in on you.

She stopped abruptly in front of the principal’s office, knocking quickly before opening the door and ushering you inside.

The principal was seated at his desk, his face pale, his hands clasped together tightly as if trying to steady himself. When he saw you, his eyes widened slightly, a flicker of fear crossing his features before he masked it with a forced calm.

“Sit,” he said, gesturing to the chair in front of him.

You sat down, your mind racing, your hands trembling slightly as you gripped the edges of the chair.

The principal took a deep breath, leaning forward slightly. “Y/n… have you been having trouble with goons recently?”

You blinked, startled by the question. “Yes,” you replied cautiously. “But… what does that have to do with anything? What’s going on?”

The principal hesitated, his gaze darting to the teacher, who stood by the door, wringing her hands nervously. He looked back at you, his voice low, almost trembling.

“If you knew someone with… powerful connections, you should have told us. Things like this could’ve been avoided.”

“What things?” you snapped, frustration and confusion bubbling to the surface. “What happened?”

The principal’s eyes widened slightly, and he leaned back in his chair, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of his desk.

“You don’t know?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“No!” you shouted, your voice cracking. “I don’t know anything! What is going on?”

He stared at you, his expression a mix of fear and disbelief, as if he couldn’t comprehend how you were so unaware of whatever had happened.

The principal's voice was sharp, accusatory, as if every word he spat at you was a bullet meant to tear you down.

“That family’s worker—their enforcer or bodyguard, whatever they are—beat up the goons who were after you. The students too, the ones who even stood nearby! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Your breath hitched. “What—what did I do?”

“What did you do?!” he repeated, his face twisting with rage. “You ruined their lives, that’s what! Those students? Their limbs are broken, their reputations in tatters! Why didn’t you just keep quiet?!”

“I didn’t—” you stammered, your voice shaking. “I didn’t do anything! I didn’t ask for—”

“Quiet!” he roared, slamming his hand on the desk, making you flinch. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused? The parents of those students—they’ve stopped funding the school! Their kids are worth more than you will ever be!”

The words stung, each one sharper than the last, but your mind was too clouded to process them fully. The room felt like it was spinning, your heart pounding in your chest as his words echoed around you.

“Those broken limbs...” he continued, his voice lower now, dripping with venom. “Someone from that family family—took it upon themselves to send a message. You should have kept your head down. Instead, this happened.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Broken limbs.

You didn’t need to hear more. Your mind raced, and for a moment, everything around you faded into the background.

The image came to you unbidden.

The night before. The goons—waiting in the alleyways, lurking in the shadows. And then... him.

A man, cloaked in a dark hoodie, his face obscured by a mask but his presence unmistakable. His crimson eyes gleamed like blood in the dim light, his black hair catching the faint glow of the streetlamps.

The goons, cocky and loud, sneered at him.

“Who the fuck are you?” one of them snarled, stepping forward.

The man didn’t answer. He simply tilted his head slightly, his crimson gaze locking onto the speaker.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” the goon barked, stepping closer, his hand reaching for the weapon at his side.

That’s when one of them recognized him.

“Wait... isn’t that—”

But it was too late.

The man moved with inhuman speed, his strikes precise and brutal. The first goon went down before he even had a chance to react, his weapon clattering to the ground as he crumpled, clutching his shattered arm.

The others charged at him, shouting obscenities, but it was futile. The man was a whirlwind of destruction, his movements fluid and calculated. Each punch, each kick, was delivered with devastating accuracy, bones cracking under his blows.

It wasn’t a fight—it was a massacre.

And when it was over, the goons lay sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles.

The man stood over them, his breathing steady, his crimson eyes cold and unfeeling. Without a word, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving behind only chaos and broken bodies.

Your stomach twisted as the scene played out in your mind.

It wasn’t the family’s worker.

It was him.

Your brother.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you stared at the principal, who was still fuming, his voice rising once again.

“And now—now you’re telling me you didn’t know? You didn’t think this would happen?! You’re a liability! We can’t have you here anymore. You’re being moved to the other building—”

“What?!” you cut him off, your voice rising with panic. “No! I worked hard to get here! You can’t just—”

“I can and I will!” he snapped, slamming his hand on the desk again. “If you’d kept your mouth shut, none of this would’ve happened. But no, you just had to—”

“Had to what?” you interrupted, your voice cold now, cutting through his tirade. “Had to exist? Had to study hard and not depend on anyone? Is that it?”

The principal glared at you, his face twisted with frustration and fear.

“You should’ve been quiet!” he spat, his voice trembling with anger. “Because of you, because of your connections, those students—those valuable students—are ruined! Their parents have pulled their funding! They’re worth more to this school than your... your—”

“Garbage,” you said, cutting him off again, your voice steady and ice-cold. “No matter how much garbage you collect, it’s still garbage. Just like those idiots who got beat up.”

The principal’s face turned an alarming shade of red, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled for a response. But you didn’t wait for him to find his words.

The principal’s voice boomed, his face a mix of frustration and fear.

“You’re expelled from this building! Effective immediately, you’ll be transferred to the other one!”

You blinked, the words hanging in the air. For a second, your chest tightened, and you almost felt like crying—but then, inexplicably, a smile stretched across your lips. It wasn’t happiness, not really. It was a strange mix of bitterness, relief, and vindication, all bundled into one small, defiant smirk.

“Maybe this isn’t the place for me,” you said softly, your voice steady but laced with a subtle edge. “Maybe it never was.”

The principal’s face turned red with rage, but you didn’t stick around to hear whatever rant he had brewing. You turned on your heel and walked out of the office, your head held high.

Whispers erupted around you the moment you stepped into the hallway. You didn’t bother looking at the students lining the lockers, their wide eyes and hushed voices buzzing like bees in your ears. You were done with their judgment. Done with their stares. Done with this.

Two days. That was how long you had before your official transfer to the other building.

Your locker greeted you with its usual dull metallic clang as you opened it, shoving your books into your bag with slow, deliberate movements. The weight of your situation pressed down on you, but for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel completely powerless.

Why?

Your mind flashed back to the incident—the broken limbs, the terrified whispers, the way the principal’s voice shook when he accused you of “ruining” those students’ lives. It wasn’t fear that gave you confidence. No. It was something else.

Was it him?

The thought of your brother filled you with conflicting emotions. Rage. Confusion. Maybe even the faintest trace of... gratitude?

You laughed quietly to yourself, the sound sharp and bitter. “Why the hell would that idiot’s actions make me feel safe?” you muttered, slamming your locker shut.

Still, deep down, you knew the truth. For all his faults—and there were plenty—he had your back.

Later that evening, you returned to your tiny apartment, hoping for a moment of peace to sort through your chaotic thoughts. But instead, you found your belongings scattered across the pavement outside.

“What the hell...?”

Your landlord stood in the doorway, arms crossed and glaring at you with pure disdain.

“You’re out,” he said bluntly.

“What?!” you snapped, storming up to him. “What are you talking about? I’ve always paid my rent on time—”

“Don’t care!” he barked, stepping forward and shoving you back before you could argue further. “You and your connections aren’t welcome here anymore. I don’t want any trouble.”

“Trouble?!” Your voice cracked with anger and disbelief. “What trouble?! I don’t even have connections!”

But he slammed the door in your face, leaving you standing there, stunned and furious.

You stared at your scattered belongings, your chest heaving with frustration. The weight of everything—the expulsion, the stares, the whispers, and now this—felt like it was crushing you. Your vision blurred as tears threatened to spill, but you refused to let them fall.

“Y/N?”

The familiar voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

You looked up to see Hyugo and Sol standing a few feet away.

Hyugo looked at you with an apologetic frown, his hands shoved into his pockets. Sol, on the other hand, was a mess. His hoodie was torn, his knuckles were bandaged, and bruises bloomed across his face. His crimson eyes were sharp and piercing, but there was something in them—something tired.

“Hyugo,” you muttered, your voice shaking.

Hyugo crouched down beside you, his expression soft and filled with regret. “I didn’t think it would go this far. I’m sorry.”

You stared at him, your emotions swirling. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “For helping with the goons.”

Hyugo shook his head. “Don’t thank me. Thank Sol.”

Your gaze flicked to your brother, who stood silently, his crimson eyes boring into you.

“There’s no need for thanks,” Sol said, his voice flat and cold.

You didn’t know what to say.

But before you could think of a response, Sol broke the silence. “You have nowhere to go now.”

Your stomach dropped.

“So move in with me,” he said.

You blinked, stunned. “What? No! Absolutely not!”

Sol raised an eyebrow, his expression completely unimpressed. “You don’t really have a choice.”

“I do have a choice,” you snapped, standing up to face him. “And I’d rather be homeless than live with you!”

Sol didn’t respond. He simply crouched down and started gathering your belongings, completely ignoring your protests.

“Hey! What are you doing?!” you demanded, panic rising in your voice.

“Taking your things home,” he said calmly, not even looking at you.

“Home?!”

“Yes. Home. My apartment. Two rooms. Small but functional.”

You clenched your fists, your frustration bubbling over. “I don’t need your help!”

“Too bad,” he replied bluntly, standing up with your bag slung over his shoulder.

You glared at him, your voice trembling with anger. “I don’t even have anything worth taking! Just clothes and—”

“And cheap junk?” Sol cut in, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly.

Your face burned with embarrassment as you looked away. “Don’t judge me. I’m broke.”

For a moment, he was silent. Then, to your surprise, his voice softened—just barely.

“I’m not judging you,” he said, his tone unreadable.

You stared at him, taken aback. Sol was always cold, distant, impossible to read. But now, for the first time, you saw something in his eyes—something faint and fleeting, but undeniably there.

Understanding.

You threw your hands in the air, frustration bubbling over as you glared at Sol. “What the hell even are you?!” Your voice cracked, half from anger, half from the strain of everything that had happened. “I’ll never talk to you again. Not after this. Not after—whatever the fuck this is!”

Sol stood still, his crimson eyes fixed on you. For a moment, you thought he might lash out or bark back, but instead, his gaze softened.

“I regret a lot of things in life,” he said quietly, his voice steady but tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “But this… what I am, what I’ve done—it is what it is.”

You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat. There was no malice in his tone, no defiance. Just a quiet, resigned sadness.

Sol turned his gaze to the ground, his expression distant. “After this year, you can move out. You don’t have to stay with me any longer than that. This is just for now—for you to stay safe. It’s the least I can do.”

His words hung in the air like a weight you couldn’t shake.

“And after that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He glanced at you, his crimson eyes duller than you’d ever seen them. “After that,” he said softly, “I’ll disappear. I’ll stay in the shadows, far away from you. You can hate me all you want. I’ll carry that, too.”

For a moment, you were frozen. You wanted to scream, to demand answers, to break down and cry all at once—but you didn’t.

Instead, you stood there, silent and broken, unable to find the words.

It took time—time you didn’t want to admit you needed—but eventually, you moved in with him.

The apartment was small, just like Sol had said. Two rooms, clean, minimalistic. It was nothing like the chaotic mess of your old place, where everything was a constant reminder of your struggles. Here, it felt… oddly peaceful.

Sol didn’t talk much, and you didn’t ask questions. It was easier that way. The tension between you was always there, simmering under the surface, but he never pushed.

What surprised you the most, though, was how much he did for you.

Every morning, without fail, there was a freshly prepared bento waiting on the kitchen counter. Carefully packed rice, vegetables, protein—a far cry from the instant noodles and junk food you’d lived on before.

At first, you wanted to refuse, to push it all away out of spite. But your stomach betrayed you, and after the first bite, you couldn’t stop. It was so much better than anything you’d had in ages.

You hated how much you appreciated it.

Still, you didn’t say thank you. You couldn’t.

Life slowly began to find its rhythm. The new building accepted you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you could study without constant fear or harassment. The weight of the goons, the whispers, and the stares had lifted.

You focused on your classes, determined to finish your degree and leave everything behind.

Sol stayed out of your way for the most part, true to his word. He didn’t ask about your day or pry into your life. He just… existed in the background. A quiet presence that you couldn’t quite ignore, no matter how hard you tried.

One evening, as you sat at the small dining table, absently picking at your food, you overheard something that caught you off guard.

It was a phone call—Sol’s voice, low and muffled through the thin walls of the apartment.

“She’s fine,” he said, his tone surprisingly soft. “No, I don’t need anything. Just take care of yourself, alright?”

You froze, your chopsticks hovering mid-air.

A few minutes later, Sol walked out of his room, his expression unreadable as always.

“You…” You hesitated, unsure if you even wanted to know. “You’ve been seeing someone?”

He stopped, blinking at you in surprise. For the first time in a while, you caught a glimpse of something almost human in his crimson eyes—something vulnerable.

“It’s not important,” he said curtly, brushing past you and heading to the kitchen.

You didn’t press. If he wanted to keep his secrets, that was fine. It wasn’t your business anyway.

You still weren’t sure how you felt about living with Sol. Sometimes, the weight of his presence was suffocating. Other times, it was strangely comforting.

What you did know was that, for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe.

The new building was peaceful. Your studies were going well. And for all the chaos and pain that had led you here, you were starting to believe that maybe—just maybe—you could finish your degree and move on with your life.

For now, that was enough.

The students, for the most part, weren’t as cruel as those from the first one. There were no constant whispers or mocking glances. No one actively sought to tear you down. In fact, for the first time in a while, you felt like you were fitting in.

It didn’t hurt that you made a couple of friends, too.

Crowe, a student council member, was probably the most surprising of them all. At first, you thought he was just another stuck-up overachiever, someone who only cared about his grades and keeping up appearances. But to your shock, Crowe was kind, understanding, and remarkably down-to-earth. He made an effort to include you in group activities, always looking out for you when you felt like you were on the edge.

Then there was Brittney, a gyaru girl with blonde hair and a look that screamed “don’t mess with me” in the best way possible. You’d seen her walking around with her friends, looking like she owned the world, but once you got to know her, she was actually one of the nicest people you’d met in a long time.

Life wasn’t perfect, but it was better. You could breathe easier here.

Until, of course, some shitheads from the other building decided to ruin it all.

You had heard the rumors. The students from the first building still had their eyes on you, and not in a good way. They’d been whispering behind your back, mocking you, probably spreading lies about you. You’d thought you could leave all that behind when you transferred, but it seemed that the hatred for your last name followed you wherever you went.

One afternoon, while you were walking to class, a group of them cornered you in the hallway. They wore smug smiles, leaning in closer as you tried to brush past them.

“Well, well, if it isn’t her,” one of them sneered, a girl with jet-black hair and a silver stud in her nose. “How’s life in the new building? Not as glamorous as you thought, huh?”

You kept your head down, walking faster, but they followed you.

Another student, a lanky guy with glasses, laughed loudly. “What’s the matter? Afraid to talk to us? Or are you just embarrassed to be here?”

The insults kept coming, each one cutting deeper than the last.

You could feel your patience slipping away. They thought they had power over you. They thought they could just keep pushing you around because of your name, your past, your connection to your brother.

But no more.

You turned to face them, your voice low and controlled but full of authority. “Enough,” you snapped, eyes flashing with a fire that even you hadn’t realized was there.

One of the girls laughed, clearly trying to push your buttons. “What’s the matter, princess? Can’t handle the truth?”

You stood up straighter, meeting her gaze with cold, unflinching eyes. “You want to know the truth?” you said, your voice dripping with disdain. “My boyfriend won’t tolerate this. He’s not going to let you get away with this. He’s already made it clear he doesn’t like people messing with me.”

The group of them paused for a moment, clearly surprised by your sudden shift in demeanor. Then, one of the guys—a taller, muscular dude with a tattoo on his neck—sneered at you. “Oh, you’ve got a boyfriend? Who would want someone like you?”

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you gave them a sharp smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes. “He’s busy. But if you really want to meet him, I can show you a picture.”

The group of them exchanged glances, clearly amused by the idea that someone like you could have a boyfriend.

“Well, then,” the girl with the silver nose stud said with a smirk, “show us. I dare you.”

You kept your gaze steady, knowing exactly what you were doing. You pulled out your phone, holding it up in front of you like a weapon. “Fine. Two days,” you said, your voice cool and confident. “I’ll show you a picture. You’ve got two days to get off my back, or I’ll make sure he pays a visit here. You won’t like it if you push him too far.”

The group laughed, thinking it was all a joke, but you could see the doubt creeping into their eyes. They hadn’t expected you to fight back.

“Alright, we’ll give you two days,” the guy said, clearly eager to get away. “But don’t try to back out. We’ll be expecting that photo.”

With that, they all dispersed, leaving you standing in the hallway, your heart racing but your face betraying no emotion.

You let out a sigh, leaning against the wall. You hadn’t expected to be so forceful, but it felt good to finally stand up for yourself. Even if it was a lie.

But now, you had a problem. You didn’t have a boyfriend. And if you didn’t show them a photo in two days, they’d be all over you like a swarm of angry bees.

You cursed under your breath, pulling your phone back into your pocket. What had you gotten yourself into?

You sat in the back of the classroom the next day, trying to focus on the lecture, but your mind was elsewhere. You could feel the eyes of the other students on you, some out of curiosity, others out of contempt. It was no different than before—except now, it wasn’t just because of your last name.

You were being mocked,

You tried to ignore the whispers, you glanced over at Crowe, who was sitting a few seats away, scribbling notes in his notebook. Brittney was next to him, chatting quietly with some other students, her usual carefree attitude making you feel slightly more at ease.

But the peace didn’t last long. The students who had mocked you the day before were back at it, making sure to keep their voices loud enough for you to hear.

You tried to block them out, but it was impossible.

And then, a strange thing happened.

Brittney turned to you, her face unreadable. “Don’t let them get to you,” she whispered, her eyes serious. “You’re not alone.”

It felt like a small comfort, and for the first time, you felt like maybe you could make it through this.

Two days.

You could figure something out in two days. You had to.

The door clicked shut behind you, the familiar sound echoing through the small apartment. You sighed, your shoulders sinking in relief, glad to be home after another exhausting day of pretending everything was fine.

But, of course, it wasn’t.

Sol was already there when you walked in, sitting on the couch with his phone in his hands. His voice was light, like he was chatting with someone and clearly enjoying himself. It was almost sickening, how happy he sounded.

You stared at him for a moment, your gaze narrowing. What was it that had him so cheerful today? You’d never seen him like this, not even when he got good grades or when he finally kicked his bad habits. He wasn’t even looking at you; his attention was fixed entirely on the screen, his voice soft and relaxed.

"Hey," you said, trying to sound casual as you dropped your bag by the door, "who are you talking to?"

He glanced up at you, his smile widening just a little, before turning his attention back to the phone. "Oh, just my lover," he said with a weirdly creepy grin plastered on his face.

Your eyebrows shot up. Lover? What the hell? He was still going on about it, his voice practically dripping with giddiness. He's like a puppy "I can’t get enough of them. we’re meant to be together."

You froze, your eyes going wide. What the actual fuck? He wasn’t just casually talking to someone—he was head over heels. And you had to sit there and listen to it? You couldn’t believe it.

Meanwhile, you had been completely oblivious. All this time, you’d been drowning in your studies and dealing with the goons and everything else that kept you on edge. You hadn’t even thought about relationships, hadn’t even considered love as part of your life. It was just... forgotten. You had nothing.

And now, Sol—Sol—had someone.

A sick feeling twisted in your stomach, and you couldn’t hold back the bitterness that bubbled up. You stared at him like he was the world's biggest idiot, feeling your jaw clench. What the hell was wrong with you?

You didn’t even know why it stung so much. Maybe it was because you had never realized how important love was until now. Maybe it was because, for once, you wanted to experience that kind of happiness, that kind of connection with someone. Maybe it was because the one person who you thought was stuck in the same mess as you was already way ahead of you.

Shit.

"How was your day?" Sol asked, his voice almost too soft as he glanced up from his phone for a moment.

For a split second, you wanted to tell him everything, to unload your frustrations, your anger at the goons, the way they tormented you, how you were faking everything just to get through the day. You could have told him about the lies, about how you had to lie about having a boyfriend to shut them up. You could have shared all of it.

But no.

You couldn’t let him know. You wouldn’t. Not after seeing how genuinely happy he was. You couldn’t let your mess affect his life.

So you smiled, fake as it was, and answered. "I spent time with my boyfriend."

Sol blinked, looking confused for a second. He raised an eyebrow. "Your boyfriend?"

You instantly regretted saying it. You weren’t sure why you said it, but you couldn’t take it back now. "Yeah," you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. "My boyfriend. I just... I spent time with him. That’s it."

There was a beat of silence as Sol stared at you. His eyes seemed darker now, suspicious even. You could see the gears turning in his mind. "Wait, what?" He put his phone down slowly, his eyes narrowing. "Who is this guy? How long have you been together?"

Your heart skipped a beat. Why was he asking so many questions? Why did it matter to him?

You felt your pride kick in. You had to keep up the act. You had to show him that you weren’t some loser, stuck in a miserable existence. "It’s none of your business, Sol," you snapped, irritation creeping into your voice. "Just drop it."

But he wasn’t letting it go. He tilted his head slightly, eyes still locked on you with an intensity you hadn’t seen before. "I’m just trying to be a good brother here," he said quietly, but the words were heavy. "You don’t have to lie to me."

"I’m not lying!" you shot back, then immediately regretted it. Your words came out too sharp, too defensive.

He sighed, rubbing his temples, clearly frustrated. "Look, you don’t have to tell me everything. But if you need someone to talk to—"

"No!" you cut him off, more forcefully this time. "Just... just leave me alone, alright?"

Sol blinked at you, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, you thought you saw something soft in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, just nodded slowly before picking up his phone again, his voice more distant than before. "Fine. then."

You shot him a glare, already heading toward your room. "Whatever."

But as you reached the door, he called out to you again. "Hey."

You didn’t turn around.

"I know you think you have to keep things from me," he said quietly. "But I’m still your brother, okay? Even if you hate me."

You didn’t respond, just stepped into your room and slammed the door behind you.

But as the silence settled, your mind wandered back to the lie you told. You couldn’t stop thinking about it, about the emptiness that still lingered in your chest. Your life had become so focused on surviving, on studying, on dealing with the shit that kept piling on top of you, that you forgot about the things that truly mattered.

You’d built walls so high around yourself that even the smallest glimpse of happiness felt out of reach.

You sat down on the bed, head in your hands, overwhelmed by it all. What was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you just be normal?

The night passed quietly, the silence of the apartment settling heavily around you as you drifted to sleep. Your thoughts were a swirling mess of frustration, loneliness, and regret. You tossed and turned, unable to quiet the storm in your head.

The scene shifted.

At the same time, across town, the conversation was unfolding in a cozy corner of a cafe where you wouldn’t be, but where the people you’d come to know were. The three of them sat together, sipping their drinks, their chatter light despite the weighty topics that had been hanging around you.

Brittney, Jess, and Crowe were in the midst of a rare quiet moment, their usual teasing and laughter taking a backseat to something more serious.

“I just don’t get it,” Crowe was saying, his voice low, almost like he was trying to make sense of something he couldn’t fully comprehend. "You know, they’ve been through so much. It’s like... their whole life’s been one disaster after another."

Jess nodded, her face thoughtful. "I feel it too," she said softly, her voice tinged with empathy. "They’re like a walking storm cloud, always pushing people away without meaning to. It’s hard to watch someone live like that."

Brittney, who had always been more outspoken, tilted her head, frowning. "They’re just so... nice, y’know? They’re really relatable in a way. Like, it’s easy to see why they’ve been through so much. But they hide it so well. I respect that."

Crowe smiled at Brittney’s words, his gaze softening. "You’ve made a new friend, huh?" he teased, leaning back in his chair.

Brittney shot him an unimpressed look, her eyes rolling. "Don’t act like it’s hard for me to make friends, Crowe. I’m not that bad," she said, a half-smirk on her face.

Jess chuckled at the playful exchange but then grew serious again. "But, seriously, you guys think they’ll ever fit in here? I mean, meeting Deryl is one thing, but how will Geo feel about them joining the group? You know how he is with... new people."

Crowe’s expression hardened slightly, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. "Geo’s a problem. If they can’t handle him, this whole thing’s gonna blow up. But... I think he’d accept them, eventually. I hope."

Brittney leaned back, her lips curling slightly as she pondered the idea. "Well, let’s just hope he doesn’t scare them off," she muttered. "Because with the way they’ve been acting, I don’t think they’re in the mood for more drama."

There was a heavy silence between them, the weight of the conversation pressing down on all of them. They had seen glimpses of the life you led—your struggles, your isolation, and the way you tried to hide it behind a wall of sarcasm and forced smiles. And despite their differences, despite their own challenges, they understood you in a way most didn’t.

And just as the silence grew uncomfortable, Crowe broke it again, his voice quieter this time, a little more thoughtful. "We’ll see. I think, in their own way, they’re starting to open up. But... we all need to be patient with them."

They all exchanged glances, unsure of where this new chapter would lead. Would you really fit in with them, or would the weight of your past hold you back from finally connecting with people who genuinely wanted to be your friends?

Only time would tell.

You woke up on Sunday feeling oddly restless, your thoughts swirling. You needed to do something about that "boyfriend" situation. You could ask Hyugo for help, but a tiny voice in your head told you that would be a huge mistake. You didn’t need his involvement—not now. What you really needed was someone like Sol, someone intimidating and powerful who could send a message. Someone who made others back off without lifting a finger. But finding someone like that wasn’t going to be easy.

You walked, your mind raced through all the possibilities. Could you find someone who matched that terrifying energy? Who could fill the role without looking like a total joke?

Suddenly, a murmur caught your attention. A group of girls were talking excitedly, their words a mixture of awe and admiration. You glanced in their direction, curiosity piqued, and your gaze fell upon the source of their chatter.

There, walking casually down the street, was a man who commanded attention. His pale complexion stood out against the dull backdrop of the city, his aquamarine eyes seemingly piercing through everything in his path. His lips were fuller than usual, giving him a strikingly handsome appearance. But it wasn’t just his looks that made him stand out—it was the energy he exuded. Something about him screamed power, something that made you feel a strange flutter in your chest.

He had dark bluish-purple hair, the type that could easily be called stylish but still slightly intimidating with its bowl-cut shape. His low ponytail was tied neatly, as though he didn’t even need to try. His clothing matched his entire vibe: a dark, bluish-purple hoodie with a white turtleneck peeking out, paired with black ripped jeans that added an edge to his appearance. And the accessories—those long, rectangular block earrings in teal and white, not to mention the septum piercing—made him look like someone who didn’t care what anyone thought.

He was, in a word, perfect. He looked like the kind of guy who would make a fantastic, terrifying boyfriend. You could feel the pull, the certainty that he would be just as frightening as Sol. You took a step forward, feeling that strange urge to get closer to him, to make him yours somehow.

You pulled your phone from your pocket, your heart racing slightly. This was it. You didn’t need to talk to him, you just needed a photo, something to show the goons who had mocked you. Something to prove you had a boyfriend—someone they’d never dare question. You lined up the shot, focusing on his face, waiting for the perfect moment.

And just as you were about to snap the photo, you saw him look up. His gaze locked on yours. Time seemed to freeze for a second.

"Did you take my photo?" he asked, his voice cold, his expression unreadable.

Your heart nearly stopped. His tone was sharp, almost predatory. The way he asked it… it wasn’t just a simple question—it was a warning. His cold stare sent a shiver down your spine.

Oh no. You felt your face flush, and before you could react, he looked away. But then, just as quickly, his eyes returned to you, piercing through you with a chilling gaze.

"Did you take my photo?" he repeated, the question more threatening now.

Your mind went blank. You were trapped. You realized, in that moment, that you’d made a huge mistake. You’d done the exact thing your brother would’ve done. You'd stalked someone. You’d taken their picture without permission, without any regard for boundaries. You’d become that person—the one who couldn't control their obsession.

Your body froze as the realization hit. "Congrats," you thought bitterly to yourself, "You’ve just become like your brother. It's a crime, you idiot."

Panicking, your hands shook. The girls who’d been chatting earlier noticed the scene and started laughing. "Aww, look at there, an idiot!" one of them teased, her voice ringing out like a bell. The sting of their mockery made you want to disappear.

Your heart pounded. What had you done? This guy was terrifying. He was exactly the kind of person who could ruin your life with a single word. You stood there, paralyzed, as he looked at you with disdain, clearly not impressed by your actions.

"What the hell?" he muttered, his eyes narrowing at you. It felt like time was moving in slow motion. He took a single step toward you, and you couldn't stand it anymore. You turned on your heel and bolted, running as fast as you could, your heart in your throat.

Your mind was a whirlwind. What the hell had just happened? You had crossed a line, and you knew it. The anxiety in your chest grew heavier with each step you took, and it wasn’t just because you had taken his photo—it was because, in some messed-up way, you kind of wanted him to catch you. But now you were scared of what might happen next.

You kept running, never looking back, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had just made a terrifying mistake.

You slowed down, your feet dragging slightly as you tried to catch your breath. The adrenaline was wearing off, but your mind was still racing. You pulled your phone from your pocket, your fingers trembling as you looked at the picture you’d taken of him. The shot was perfect. He looked so intense, like a figure from your twisted fantasies. Your heart was pounding, but there was a strange sense of satisfaction building within you.

Your life won’t be hell anymore. The thought rang in your mind, though you weren’t entirely sure if you believed it. Was this really the answer? You’d gone this far, taken this huge leap, and now you couldn’t back down. You had something on them, something that would protect you, wouldn’t it?

But as you walked, you heard the unmistakable voices of the goons. You froze, the panic starting to rise again. There was no escape. No more hiding. They had found you.

“Hey,” one of the guys sneered, his eyes locking onto you. “What’s that you got there?”

You didn’t even get a chance to react before the other guy grabbed your phone from your hand, swiping it with ease. You tried to fight back, but they were too fast, too strong. Your pulse quickened, your breath shallow.

“What is this?” The first goon asked as he stared at the screen. He glanced at the picture you’d taken. “Looks like someone we know…”

The tension in the air thickened, and before you could do anything, they grabbed you. One of the goons sneered down at you. “You’ve really crossed the line this time, haven’t you?”

A rush of cold terror washed over you, and before you could get a word out, a fist collided with your face. The world spun as you crumpled to the ground, everything going black for a moment. A sharp pain shot through your skull as your vision blurred.

But then, you heard something. Voices. A scuffle. Another punch. And then, to your surprise, two men came into view, swinging at the goons who had been tormenting you. The sound of fists hitting flesh was almost deafening, but you barely registered it. Your head was still spinning from the punch. One of the goons was knocked to the side, groaning. The other barely managed to stand before another punch sent him to the ground.

The man who had delivered the blows stood tall, a dark presence looming over you. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw his face. You blinked through the fog in your vision, trying to make sense of what was happening. The man who had just taken down the goons looked familiar, his features hauntingly similar to the guy you’d just photographed.

Your breath hitched. The connection was clear now. This was him.

You had taken a picture of his face. You had made a move, and now, here he was, standing over you like some kind of dark savior, though it didn’t feel like you were in safe hands at all.

A voice cut through the haze. It was the other man— you thought his name was—asking the man if you were okay. The other voice was tentative, almost kind, though there was a nervous laugh in it.

“Don’t touch ‘em,” Geo" muttered, his voice cold and detached, though there was something else there too. “Why even bother with someone like them?”

You blinked, struggling to stay conscious. Your vision blurred again as your body betrayed you, and you nearly passed out. But not before you heard Deryl’s voice again, this time more insistent.

“Buddy,” Deryl said, trying to lighten the mood. “You should help people in need. Even if they photographed you.”

Geo shot him a look, his eyes deadly serious, but there was a flicker of something—something darker—in them when he looked down at you. His gaze was hard, calculating. It was like he was piecing something together in his mind. Finally, after a long pause, he spoke.

“I’m not touching them,” he muttered again, but it was clear that wasn’t the case anymore. He was trying to pretend he didn’t care, but his eyes told a different story.

You could barely focus, your eyelids growing heavier as your body refused to stay awake. Geo’s voice cut through the fog once more, and you caught a few words before everything went blank.

“Deryl, you carry them. I’m not touching that.”

Deryl adjusted his grip on you as he walked, muttering softly to himself. “Man, you’re heavier than you look…” He chuckled nervously, more to ease his own discomfort than to make a joke. You were completely unconscious, head lolling slightly, and he glanced back at Geo, who followed a few steps behind with his usual brooding expression.

Geo’s aquamarine eyes lingered on your face, his sharp gaze narrowing. Something about the way you looked stirred a memory, one he wasn’t prepared to confront. His steps faltered for just a moment before he hissed, “Wait.”

Deryl stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow. “Huh? What is it?”

Geo’s eyes widened slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching into a grimace. Without explaining himself, he stepped forward, his presence looming over both you and Deryl. “Give them to me.”

“What?” Deryl asked, startled. “You just said—”

“I said give them to me,” Geo snapped, his voice low and cold, cutting through Deryl’s hesitation. He reached out, his movements sharp but deliberate, and took you from Deryl’s arms without waiting for an argument.

Deryl blinked, his jaw dropping slightly. “You’ve been all high and mighty about not helping, and now you’re—”

“Shut up,” Geo hissed, his tone dangerous. He adjusted his grip on you with a surprising gentleness that contradicted the hostility in his voice. He glanced down at your face again, his expression hardening. His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out.

Deryl stared at him for a moment before sighing and scratching the back of his head. “Alright, fine, Pal! . Lead the way, I guess.”

Geo didn’t reply. He simply started walking, his strides long and purposeful. Deryl followed behind, shooting the occasional curious glance at Geo, who carried you as if it were both a burden and something he couldn’t let go of.

When they reached the nearest bus stand, Geo stopped. He looked around briefly before stepping toward the bench. His movements were precise, almost mechanical, as he carefully set you down, leaning you against the metal backrest. His hands lingered for a moment, his fingers curling slightly as if he were resisting the urge to do more.

Deryl, watching the scene unfold, crossed his arms and tilted his head. “So, uh… what now? We just leave them here?”

Geo straightened up, his face as unreadable as ever. “Yes.”

“Seriously?” Deryl’s voice rose in disbelief. “You’re just gonna walk away and leave them like this? What if something happens?”

“They’ll survive.” Geo’s tone was clipped, final.

Deryl took a step closer, trying to catch Geo’s eye. “How do you even know that? You’re acting like you know them or something.”

Geo froze, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Slowly, he turned his head to glare at Deryl, his aquamarine gaze sharp enough to cut. “I said shut up.”

Deryl raised his hands in mock surrender, though his grin didn’t quite mask his curiosity. “Alright, alright, no need to get all hissy about it. Just saying, you’re acting weird.”

Geo didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he cast one last glance at you. His expression remained cold, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of recognition, perhaps? He pressed his lips into a thin line, his jaw tightening as if he were swallowing words he didn’t want to speak.

“Annoying,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. He turned on his heel and started walking away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. Deryl jogged after him, falling into step beside him.

“Okay, but seriously,” Deryl said, his tone lighter now but still probing. “You’re acting like this is personal. Do you know them?”

Geo didn’t slow down, his gaze fixed straight ahead. “No.”

Deryl snorted. “You’re a terrible liar, buddy.”

“Shut up,” Geo snapped again, his voice lower this time, almost a growl. His pace quickened, but Deryl kept up, undeterred.

“Come on, man,” Deryl pressed. “If you don’t know them, why’d you suddenly change your mind? You went from ‘leave them to rot’ to ‘I’ll carry them myself’ in, like, two seconds. What gives?”

Geo’s teeth clenched, the muscles in his jaw tightening. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn’t answer, but then he let out a sharp exhale through his nose. “They’re too familiar.”

Deryl blinked, taken aback. “Familiar? Like how?”

Geo’s lips curled into a sneer, though it seemed more directed at himself than at Deryl. “I said, shut up.”

Deryl held up his hands again, though his grin widened. “Alright, alright. But you’re really bad at keeping secrets, you know that?”

Geo ignored him, his strides long and purposeful as he walked away from the bus stand. His mind, however, wasn’t as composed as his outward demeanor suggested. Memories he’d buried long ago were clawing their way to the surface, and no matter how much he tried to suppress them, they wouldn’t stay hidden.

“Still look the same…” he muttered under his breath, barely audible even to himself. His aquamarine eyes flicked toward the ground as he walked, his expression darkening. The weight of recognition was heavy on his shoulders, though he refused to let it show.

Deryl, walking beside him, noticed the change in Geo’s demeanor but chose not to press further. Instead, he settled for a quieter approach, matching Geo’s pace without saying a word. He could tell Geo was lost in his thoughts, and though Deryl was naturally nosy, he knew better than to push too hard when Geo was in one of his moods.

Geo’s mind raced as he replayed the events of the past hour. Your face, your fainted form, the way you’d looked so vulnerable—it all felt too close to something he couldn’t quite place. Or maybe he could, but he didn’t want to admit it.

“You’re too into my memories,” he muttered again, his voice barely more than a whisper. His fists clenched in his pockets as he walked, his gaze fixed ahead.

But despite his outward hostility, a part of him couldn’t shake the feeling that this encounter wasn’t over. And that thought, as much as he hated to admit it, unsettled him more than anything else.

You jolted awake as a high-pitched wail pierced your groggy mind. A child, no older than five, stood in front of you, tugging at her mother’s sleeve. “I want to sit!” she cried, her tiny voice laced with impatience.

The mother gave you an apologetic smile, gently shaking your shoulder. “Excuse me, but could you let her sit?”

Blinking rapidly, you straightened up, your head still spinning. “Oh, uh, sorry! My bad!” You quickly stood, brushing yourself off as you apologized again.

The little girl climbed up onto the bench, beaming as she claimed her throne. The mother gave you a curt nod of thanks, and you stepped back, trying to collect your thoughts.

Your heart was still racing as you walked away, your legs shaky but functional. A strange heaviness settled in your chest as you tried to piece together what had happened. Then, with a sudden jolt of panic, you patted your pockets. Your phone. Relief flooded through you as you pulled it out, still intact.

Your thumb hovered over the screen as you unlocked it. The first thing you saw was the photo. The guy. His face stared back at you, aquamarine eyes cold and piercing even in stillness. You stared at it, holding your phone closer for a better look. He looked familiar somehow, but you couldn’t place why. Then again, did it matter?

You sighed, switching off your phone. At least you had something to show those goons. Even if they were terrifying, this picture might just save you from whatever chaos they had planned. You tried to convince yourself that was enough.

Your thoughts drifted back to the encounter. You couldn’t quite recall how you’d escaped, but you decided it wasn’t worth overthinking. You’d survived, right? That was all that mattered.

Later at Home

The familiar scent of food hit you as you walked through the door. Your stomach growled in response, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten since morning. Sol was in the kitchen, idly humming as he set down a plate on the counter. He didn’t look at you, his attention focused elsewhere.

“Food’s ready,” he said simply, his voice devoid of emotion.

“Thanks,” you replied, grabbing the plate without much thought. You caught a glimpse of him as you headed toward your room—he was hunched over the table, sketching something in his notebook. The silence between you was heavy, but you didn’t feel like breaking it.

Once inside your room, you locked the door behind you and plopped down on your bed. The plate balanced precariously on your lap as you mindlessly ate, your thoughts still scattered from the day’s events. Sol’s unusual quietness lingered in the back of your mind, but you brushed it off. He’s probably just sulking about something, like always.

You finished eating and set the empty plate on your bedside table. Lying back, you pulled out your phone again. The photo of the guy stared back at you, his aquamarine eyes boring into yours. You couldn’t help but shiver slightly.

“Guess I’ve got my ‘boyfriend,’” you muttered to yourself with a wry smile. The girls were going to love this.

The next day, you strutted into the campus with a newfound sense of pride, your phone clutched tightly in your hand. The image of the man’s piercing aquamarine eyes had become your badge of defiance against the girls who had bullied you. As they approached, the usual smug grins plastered on their faces, you decided it was time to strike.

“So, where’s your boyfriend’s picture?” one of them sneered, arms crossed.

“Oh, you mean this?” you said with a dramatic flourish, pulling out your phone and showing them the picture. Geo’s cold, intimidating gaze stared back at them. You almost felt sorry for them—almost.

Their smirks instantly dropped. One of the girls snatched the phone from your hand, staring at the screen in disbelief. “Wait... he’s your boyfriend?” she stammered, her voice laced with uncertainty.

“Yes,” you said smugly, crossing your arms. “He is. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like my phone back.”

They handed it over quickly, their attitudes doing a complete 180. “We didn’t know he was your boyfriend! We won’t bother you anymore!” one of them said, her tone almost apologetic.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, an exaggerated, evil laugh escaping your lips. “Hehehehehehe!” You turned and walked away, feeling like you’d just conquered the world. Metaphorically, your nose was growing like Pinocchio’s, but who cared? You’d earned this victory.

Later, at lunch, you bumped into Brittney, who waved you over enthusiastically. “Hey, you coming to the cafeteria today?” she asked, her usual sunny demeanor infectious.

“Why not?” you replied, shrugging. It would be nice to eat with someone who wasn’t Sol for a change.

You all sat down to eat, Brittney turned to you, a sly smile playing on her lips. “So... I’ve been hearing some rumors.”

You blinked at her. “Rumors?”

“Yeah, you know, about a certain someone being your boyfriend,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

Before you could answer, Crowe chimed in, “Speaking of someone, it’s been a while since Deryl and Geo hung out. Wonder what they’re up to?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Deryl and Geo? who are they?”

“Deryl’s great—kind as ever,” Crowe said with a grin. “Geo, though... well, he’s a piece of work. But don’t worry! He’s not as bad as he seems.”

You smiled faintly, unsure if you should feel reassured or not. Brittney, however, wasn’t letting the conversation shift away from the topic of your so-called boyfriend. “So, spill! Who is he?” she pressed.

With a dramatic flourish, you pulled out your phone and turned the screen toward her. The picture of the man filled the display, and you couldn’t help but add a smug, “Hehehehe!”

Brittney’s reaction was immediate. Her face fell, her cheerful expression replaced by something darker. “Wait... is this...?”

“What?” Jess leaned over to look, and her eyes widened in horror. “Oh my god.”

Crowe, curious about the fuss, leaned in as well. His usually calm demeanor cracked as his blue eyes sparkled with surprise. “You’re dating... him?”

All three of them screamed in unison, “YOU’RE DATING OUR GEO?!”

The cafeteria went silent, all eyes turning toward your table. You froze, your face flushing as you tried to stammer out a response.

Before you could say anything, two familiar figures entered the cafeteria: Deryl and Geo. Deryl looked as cheerful as ever, while Geo’s usual broody expression darkened as soon as his eyes landed on you.

“Geo!” Brittney yelled, pointing at him like he’d committed a crime. “You’re dating them?!”

The entire cafeteria erupted into whispers and murmurs, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. Geo’s aquamarine eyes flicked between you and the others, his expression unreadable.

You panicked. Before he could say a word, you grabbed his hand and bolted, dragging him out of the cafeteria as fast as your legs could carry you. Geo barely resisted, following behind with a mixture of shock and annoyance etched on his face.

“Wait—what the hell are you doing?” he hissed as you shoved open the door and pushed him outside.

“Just—just go with it!” you snapped, your voice a mix of desperation and embarrassment.

You stopped a few paces away from the building, finally letting go of his hand. Geo crossed his arms, his piercing gaze locked on you. “Care to explain what that was all about?”

You gulped, feeling the weight of his stare. “Um... it’s kind of a long story.”

“You-!" he said coldly, his tone daring you to try lying again.

The moment you finished explaining, you felt your heart pounding as Geo stared at you, his expression cold and unreadable. You swallowed hard, your nerves threatening to snap under his piercing aquamarine gaze. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean for it to get this out of hand. I won’t tell anyone else. Just… please don’t expose me. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Geo crossed his arms, his tall figure looming over you. His silence was more intimidating than any verbal berating. Finally, he let out a sharp sigh, the faintest trace of irritation flickering across his face. “You really are the most idiotic piece of shit,” he hissed, his voice low but cutting. “Photographing me, spreading rumors, telling people I’m your boyfriend—do you even think before you act?”

You flinched, clutching your phone tightly. “I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean—”

“Save it,” he cut you off, his tone icy. “Just stay out of my business from now on.” He turned as if to leave but paused, glancing back at you with narrowed eyes. “But… where did you even get that picture?”

Your mouth opened to respond, but suddenly, a memory bubbled to the surface. The sight of him standing there, broody and imposing, triggered something deep in your mind. “Wait…” you murmured, staring at him as if seeing him for the first time. “I’ve seen you before. I know you from somewhere.”

Geo’s eyes narrowed further, his body tensing. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s you,” you said, your voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and excitement. “Subaru-kun… it’s really you, isn’t it?”

The name hit him like a bolt of lightning. Geo’s face shifted from annoyance to pure panic, his aquamarine eyes widening as he looked around. A few girls nearby, overhearing the conversation, started whispering.

“Subaru?” one of them muttered. “Isn’t his name Geo?”

Geo clicked his tongue, his sharp jaw tightening as he grabbed your wrist. “You,” he hissed under his breath, “shut up.” Without another word, he dragged you away, ignoring your protests as you stumbled after him.

“Wait! What are you—Geo, I mean Subaru, I—”

“Stop talking,” he snapped, his voice low and dangerous. His grip on your wrist wasn’t painful, but it was firm enough to keep you moving. He navigated through the campus like a man on a mission, his long legs making it hard for you to keep up.

When you finally reached a secluded area behind one of the buildings, he released your wrist and spun to face you. “Don’t ever call me that name again,” he said, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.

“But why—”

“Because that’s not who I am anymore,” he interrupted, his tone softer but still guarded. He raked a hand through his dark bluish-purple hair, his earrings catching the light as he turned his gaze away from you. “Got it?”

You stared at him, your chest tightening. The Subaru you remembered—kind, soft-spoken, always smiling—was so different from the man standing in front of you now. But even in his hostility, you could see fragments of the boy you used to play with, buried beneath layers of coldness and resentment. “It really is you,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

Geo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re so damn persistent,” he muttered, his tone laced with exasperation. “Why couldn’t you just leave things alone?”

“I didn’t know it was you!” you defended, your voice rising slightly. “I just… I thought you looked familiar, and now I know why. We used to play together, remember? You and Hyugo and—”

“Enough.” His voice was sharp, but his aquamarine eyes betrayed a flicker of something—pain, maybe? “The past doesn’t matter. Not to me, and it shouldn’t to you, either.”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. The tension between you hung heavy in the air, the weight of unspoken memories and unresolved emotions pressing down on both of you. Finally, Geo straightened, his usual cold demeanor sliding back into place.

“Just… forget this happened,” he said, his tone more resigned than angry. “And stop dragging me into your messes.”

Before you could respond, he turned and started walking away, his long strides carrying him further and further from you. For a moment, you considered chasing after him, but something in his posture—rigid and unyielding—stopped you. Instead, you watched him disappear around the corner, the name “Subaru” lingering on the tip of your tongue like a forbidden word.

Your heart ached as you stood there, alone in the silence. It wasn’t just Geo who had changed—you realized, with a pang, that you had, too. And somehow, in the midst of all this chaos, you had stumbled back into each other’s lives. Whether that was a blessing or a curse, you weren’t sure yet.

Geo’s aquamarine eyes narrowed, frustration evident on his sharp, pale face. He crossed his arms and stared down at you as if you were the most infuriating puzzle he’d ever encountered. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?” he said, his tone icy and cutting. “First, you drag me into this whole boyfriend nonsense, and now I’m stuck dealing with your idiotic face. You’re just like Hyugo—always causing problems I never asked for.”

His words hit like a slap. You blinked, trying to keep your composure, but the sting of his insult made your chest tighten. “I didn’t mean to,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “I’m sorry.”

Geo scoffed, clicking his tongue in irritation. “Sorry doesn’t fix anything,” he snapped. He stepped closer, his tall frame looming over you, and tilted your chin up with a surprisingly firm yet gentle hand, forcing you to look into his aquamarine eyes. “You’re the one who got us into this mess,” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “And the only reason I’m even this nice to you is because, unfortunately, you’re someone I used to know. You haven’t done anything wrong—yet. But keep pushing, and we’ll see.”

His sharp words were laced with venom, but there was something else in his gaze—a flicker of restraint, as though he were holding back more than just his temper. Your breath hitched under the intensity of his stare, and you bit your lip, looking away. “It’s fine,” you said quietly. “I’ll fix it. I’ll tell everyone it was a lie. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

You turned to leave, your head low, but Geo’s voice stopped you in your tracks. “Wait.”

You froze, glancing back at him hesitantly. His expression was still hard, but his aquamarine eyes had softened, just a fraction. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his bluish-purple hair, his earrings swaying slightly with the movement. “There’s no point in fixing it now,” he muttered, almost to himself. “The damage is done. And if I’m being honest, it might actually work in my favor.”

“What?” you asked, genuinely confused.

Geo’s lips pressed into a thin line, as though he hated every word he was about to say. “This school is full of shitty people,” he began, his voice laced with irritation. “Love letters piling up at the end of the year, girls stalking me, and way too much work to deal with. If pretending to be your boyfriend gets them off my back, I’ll do it.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re kidding, right?”

He fixed you with a deadpan stare. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

You blinked, your mind racing. Geo—cold, broody, terrifying Geo—was offering to pretend to be your boyfriend. “I don’t understand,” you said slowly. “You hate me, and now you’re offering to help?”

“I don’t hate you,” he said, though his tone wasn’t exactly reassuring. “I hate the situation you dragged me into. But if it gives me some damn solitude, it’s worth it.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. This didn’t feel real—Geo, the guy who seemed to hate everyone and everything, willingly offering to go along with your mess? It was the last thing you expected.

“Don’t overthink it,” he said, his tone sharp, as if reading your mind. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me, and keeping people away from me. Got it?”

You nodded slowly, still trying to process everything. “Got it.”

“Good.” He stepped back, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “But don’t push your luck. If you do anything stupid, this deal’s off.”

“I won’t,” you said quickly. “I promise.”

Geo rolled his eyes, clearly unconvinced. “Whatever. Just try not to embarrass me more than you already have.” Without another word, he turned and walked away, his long strides carrying him out of sight.

You stood there for a moment, replaying the conversation in your mind. Geo, of all people, pretending to be your boyfriend? It was so absurd you almost laughed. Almost.

But as you thought about his offer, you couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of hope. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

The weight of everything from the day was making your head spin. You had barely registered the final bell ringing, signaling the end of classes, before you packed your things in a rush. There was so much pressure on you, too much. You wanted to thank Geo for the ridiculous arrangement, but the reality of it was starting to sink in, and it was suffocating. You just needed to escape, get away from everyone, clear your head.

But as you stuffed your notebook into your bag, you heard Crowe’s voice behind you. “Hey, can we talk for a second?”

You paused, turning to look at him, a little surprised by his sudden approach. “What’s up?” you asked, trying to mask the anxiety twisting in your stomach.

Crowe shifted on his feet, his expression a little more serious than usual. “It’s about you and Geo...”

Before he could go any further, someone at the door interrupted, their voice cutting through the air. “He’s waiting for you.”

You froze. He? You glanced towards the classroom door, and there, standing in the hallway, was Geo. His aquamarine eyes were focused somewhere off in the distance, looking as uninterested as ever, yet there he was—waiting.

A strange feeling tugged at your chest. Was this really happening? You’d expected him to be cold, but to actually see him waiting for you like this was a different kind of surreal.

Crowe raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he looked at you. “Looks like someone’s waiting, huh?”

You swallowed hard, your pulse racing. You nodded, but your voice barely escaped. “Yeah, I guess so…”

With that, you made your way to the door, feeling your feet move like they were carrying you toward your fate. As you approached Geo, you couldn’t help but wonder: Was he really waiting for you, or was this some sort of joke? You were bracing yourself for his usual stony indifference.

“Geo?” you asked hesitantly. “Are you… waiting for me?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at you, his face expressionless, his stance relaxed but distant. For a split second, you thought maybe this was a chance for him to act sweeter, to at least pretend to play along with the whole boyfriend act. You almost expected him to give you a teasing smile, some playful banter. But then, everything changed in a flash.

Without warning, he reached out and pinched your side, hard. A sharp pain shot through you, and you gasped, immediately feeling the sting of his fingers digging into your skin.

“You should’ve waited for me,” he scolded, his voice low and cold, but with a noticeable edge of annoyance.

You winced, holding your side where he pinched you, and instinctively, you apologized. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

Geo’s eyes narrowed, his face still unreadable. “Tch. Whatever. Let’s go.”

He didn’t even wait for you to respond, immediately turning and walking toward the exit. You stood there, momentarily stunned, before scrambling to catch up to him. The moment the words left his mouth, you realized just how much control he had in this situation.

You hurriedly walked behind him, your heart pounding as you struggled to keep up with his brisk pace. The silence between you both was almost unbearable, the weight of the earlier events and his cold reaction weighing heavily on you. You had expected something—anything—that resembled affection, but instead, all you were left with was his cold indifference.

Geo walked ahead, you felt something stirring deep within you—a mix of frustration, confusion, and a strange pull toward him. You didn’t know why, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were both stuck in this weird dance together.

Brittney and Jess were sitting together, the usual buzz of the cafeteria surrounding them as they spoke in hushed tones, exchanging glances. They couldn't believe it—Geo, Geo, of all people, was actually dating someone. It was almost surreal.

“I just... I don’t get it,” Jess murmured, her voice still tinged with disbelief. “How can someone as... scary as him be in a relationship? Like, who could handle that? He’s so intimidating.”

Brittney glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “You really think he doesn’t care? Maybe he’s just... hard to read? I don’t know, maybe someone’s actually getting through to him.”

“Who knows? Someone has to be changing him,” said with a small frown. “I just... I can’t see him acting this way for no reason. There’s no way someone could stay that icy without something or someone... breaking through.”

Before they could dive deeper into their thoughts, Deryl walked into the cafeteria with his usual carefree stride, scanning the room for his friends. As soon as he spotted them, he made his way over, looking a little too smug for anyone’s liking.

“Hey, where’s Geo?” Deryl asked, looking around as though Geo had just disappeared off the face of the Earth.

“Ah, Geo?” Brittney started, her voice flat and disinterested, though her mind was still buzzing. “He went with his... partner.”

Deryl blinked, the news landing on him like a slap to the face. “Partner?” he echoed, eyes wide with shock. “He actually has a partner?”

Brittney nodded curtly. “Yeah. I’m guessing that’s what’s happening. Can’t say I expected it.”

Deryl’s jaw nearly dropped. “Wait, wait, wait—hold on. Geo? Dating someone? But... he’s the I'm happy for my pal!"

Jess looked a little uncomfortable at Deryl’s outburst, glancing at Brittney for reassurance. She cleared her throat. “I mean, I guess if someone’s able to get through to him, that’s... impressive?”

Deryl was still in shock. “But—who could handle him?” His eyes widened as if the very idea of someone taming the chaos that was Geo was too much to fathom. “He’s... so unpredictable, so intense. Who even—”

Brittney, sensing Deryl’s struggle to process, gave him a knowing smirk. “Maybe Geo does have a heart, after all. Strange, right?”

Deryl’s response was instant, his face lighting up with a smirk of his own. “Pfft, Geo having a heart? Nah, he’s a cat. Cats are stubborn and difficult to deal with, but deep down, they’ve got their moments. They can be soft when they want to be, but don’t expect them to show it all the time.”

The idea of Geo being a "cat" seemed to hit a nerve with the group, causing them to laugh despite themselves. Deryl’s tone had been teasing, but there was a strange sense of truth to it. Geo, with all his aloofness and cold demeanor, was a little like a cat—moody, hard to figure out, but once he trusted someone, he was loyal in his own way.

Brittney nodded slowly, her lips curling into a half-smile. “I guess... but a cat? You’ve got a point. He’s certainly got his claws out all the time.”

Jess, who had been quiet up until now, shrugged. “I don’t know. I just... can’t picture it. I mean, it’s hard to imagine him with someone. But hey, maybe that’s the thing. Maybe he’s just... waiting for the right person to bring him out of his shell.”

Deryl leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, still processing everything. “I guess. If someone can get him to soften up, then maybe he’s not as messed up as he looks. Who knows? He’s got a reputation, but... maybe it’s not all bad.”

The group fell into a thoughtful silence for a moment. Geo was a mystery to everyone, but now that he was involved with someone—someone—it added another layer to his already complex persona. The idea of him being soft or affectionate in any way still seemed so foreign, but with everything they’d learned about him, it was becoming increasingly clear that there was more to Geo than met the eye.

They continued to ponder Geo’s strange relationship status, the sound of footsteps in the hallway interrupted their thoughts. It was a loud thud followed by a voice calling out, and before they knew it, Deryl turned his head toward the door.

Geo, the ever-distant, ever-aloof figure, walked in with that same cool, expressionless demeanor. His eyes scanned the room before locking onto you. And despite everything he had said, despite his cold exterior, there was something about the way he carried himself that made it clear—he wasn’t going to let anyone push him around. He was here to stay, and no matter what anyone thought, you were with him now.

Brittney and Jess exchanged glances as they watched him approach, and even though they had their reservations about Geo, they couldn’t help but wonder—was this the side of him they had yet to see?

The questions and the mysteries about Geo only seemed to multiply, but one thing was certain—he wasn’t just a “cat” or an intimidating figure anymore. He was someone with more layers, and those who cared to look close enough were going to see them, one way or another.

Next day

Lunchtime came, and as expected, you found yourself seated next to Geo at the lunch table, a situation you never could have imagined. His friends had planned it—no doubt to make things even more awkward for you. There you were, sitting beside him, unsure of what to even say or do. It was supposed to be a casual lunch, right? But it was far from it.

You had brought a soda with you, offering it to Geo in a small, kind gesture, hoping that maybe it’d be a step toward a more comfortable moment between you two. But instead of accepting it, Geo looked at you—dead in the eyes—and gave you his water bottle without saying a word.

“W-What?” You blinked, unsure of what just happened. Was he messing with you? You looked at the water bottle in your hand, feeling an awkward lump form in your throat. What was this? Why was he acting like this?

You took a sip, trying not to feel too frustrated. There was nothing to do but follow the silent pattern of your lunch together. You ate your food slowly, almost like a dog eating scraps, feeling small in your chair. The taste of the food was bland, but you didn't mind. It didn’t matter much anymore, did it?

You ate, your gaze wandered around, and then you noticed it—most of the girls in the cafeteria had their eyes on you. You felt an uncomfortable shiver crawl up your spine as you tried not to look up, not wanting to attract more attention. Why were they staring? What was going on?

Before you could figure it out, two girls suddenly came and sat next to you. Their eyes were full of curiosity, and they wasted no time in asking, “So, how’s Geo doing?”

Geo remained silent, not even looking at them, his face as impassive as ever. Then, without warning, he took your hand—his fingers lightly curling around yours—and stood up. You froze for a second, not sure if you were imagining this. Was he really doing this?

His hand in yours felt warm, and you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of comfort wash over you. “What?” you asked, almost whispering in disbelief, your eyes locking with his. “Your hand…”

He barely glanced at you before answering in his usual cold tone, “Let’s stay like this for a while.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You felt... happy. It was unexpected, sure, but there was something about the closeness that made you forget about the strange situation. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as cold as he always appeared. Or maybe you were just imagining things, holding on to a fleeting hope.

But then, his next words crushed that tiny bit of hope you had managed to build. “My friends are watching,” he said coldly, his voice cutting through the moment like ice.

You looked behind you instinctively, and there they were—the familiar heads of his friends, staring at the two of you with intense curiosity. Your heart sank, and you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing back at your intertwined hands. There it was again, that feeling from childhood, that strange sense of familiarity, the way you and Geo used to be when you were younger.

It was unnatural to let go now, wasn’t it? You couldn’t bring yourself to pull your hand away. Maybe it was that part of you that longed for something—anything—that felt real and lasting, even if it was tied to a lie. But looking back at the stares, you felt uneasy. Geo’s friends watching, the girls eyeing you, the weight of the lie hanging over you like a cloud.

In that moment, you realized that this... whatever it was between you and Geo, wasn’t real. Not in the way you wanted it to be. It was a performance, a farce, an act for everyone else. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were just as much a part of it as he was.

But the strange feeling still lingered. The warmth of his hand, the memories from when you were younger, the sudden pull toward him despite everything. It was like your childhood self had never really let go, and now, you had no choice but to face the consequences of holding on to something that could never be.

Geo dragged you into a quiet corner of the school building, away from the prying eyes of his friends and the girls who seemed to be watching your every move. The hallway was eerily silent, the distant murmur of voices from the cafeteria fading into the background. He finally let go of your hand, and you flexed your fingers, still feeling the lingering warmth from his grip.

“It should be safe now,” he muttered, his voice low and cold.

You looked at him, feeling awkward as you rubbed the back of your neck. “Geo, I—”

“Shut up,” he snapped, cutting you off sharply. His aquamarine eyes glared at you, and you froze on the spot.

“But—”

Before you could finish, he flicked his finger against your forehead with surprising force. “Ow!” you yelped, covering the sore spot with your hand, your eyes wide with disbelief. “What was that for?”

He crossed his arms, his expression unamused. “I told you to shut up. You’re part of this mess now, so just deal with it.”

You blinked, staring at him. “But—”

“If you disobey me and try to make excuses again,” he interrupted, his tone sharper than before, “I’m not tolerating it. Do you understand me?” His gaze was intense, pinning you to the spot.

You hesitated, fidgeting under his scrutiny. He was so harsh, but… it wasn’t just anger, was it? There was something else in the way he spoke, a strange sort of protectiveness, even if it was buried under layers of frustration. “Geo…” you murmured softly, trying to find the right words. “You… you’ve done so much for me. Even though all those rumors say you’re dangerous and scary, you’re…”

He raised an eyebrow, looking almost annoyed. “What?”

You swallowed nervously, barely managing a smile as you finished, “You’re just… a moody little neko…”

There was a pause—a heavy, awkward silence—as Geo processed what you’d just said. His expression shifted from confusion to utter disbelief, and then his usual scowl returned in full force.

“A what?” he growled, leaning closer to you, his intimidating presence making you shrink back slightly.

“I-I mean, it’s kind of cute how you care in your own way!” you stammered, waving your hands defensively. “Not that I’m saying you’re actually a neko or anything! Just that—”

“Shut. Up.” He snapped his fingers in front of your face again, and you flinched. “Don’t even finish that sentence.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back a nervous laugh. He was so serious, so moody, and yet… you couldn’t help but find it endearing. Maybe it was foolish, but despite his sharp words and cold demeanor, you felt oddly safe with him. Like, under all that hostility, there was someone who actually cared, even if he’d rather flick your forehead than admit it.

THIS ISN'T WORKING! MAYBE YOU SHOULD FIND A REAL BOYFRIEND SO- HAHAHAHHA, MAYBE HE WILL NOT GET HIT!

[koishua]

ㅤ      ㅤ   𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀yarenim evde (my darling is home).ㅤ ওㅤ

ㅤ        ㅤ       𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀hwang hyunjin fluff fem reader .ㅤ ও

ㅤ        ㅤ       𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀1.121k words no warnings enjoy .ㅤ ও

ㅤ        ㅤ       𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀he comes home after gda2025! .ㅤ ও

Stepping into the confines of the familiar apartment’s front doors, he waits for the elevator to arrive from the topmost floor. The quiet bell alerts him to its arrival, ready to whisk him away to the place he calls home. The characteristic music assigned to elevators is absent. Small blessings, since his entire day had been about blaring speakers and blinding lights. Some quiet time was much needed to ease his desperate ear drums and nothing can stand between him and the soft touches of his favourite person alive (there are quite a few people he would commit near war crimes to meet, but we do not verge there).

When you open the door just as he is about to reach for his spare keys, the warmth of a home lived-in and loved greets him like an embrace, your arms pulling him in gently through the door and taking his coat before he reaches to undo his shoes. The world seems to tilt at its axis without warning and he has to rush to put a hand on the floor for balance, struck by an unforgiving moment of exhaustion now that he’s finally reached his safest space. 

“Woah,” you reach for the slumped over man by the shoe racks, soft hands gripping his assuredly, bringing him over to the sofa– thank God– closeby, “don’t worry. You aren’t dying, loverboy.”

Hyunjin chuckles at the teasing remark, content at finally catching the faint scent of your perfume clinging onto your clothes from earlier that morning. Lying down, he’s finally able to come back to his senses, making out a buzzing sound of what he assumes to be the coffee you loved to literal death. He has to fulfill his boyfriend duties and worry about your health, so he peeks over the back of the couch to reprimand, “You shouldn’t be drinking that at this time of the night.”

“Right, because you always listen to me when I tell you to rest. I’ll drink this, thank you.” You have to roll your eyes at his offended expression, though none taken. Offering him a mug of his favourite calming tea, you sit on the carpet by his side, coffee and tea resting on the small table until they cool down just enough to drink without scalding your tongues.

Hyunjin traces over the valleys of your face, flicking the bridge of your nose with a laugh from where he’s lying on his side, facing your direction like the sunflower to your sun. Your elbow rests on the cushion, supporting your cheek. The makeup his stylists had applied on him for their award show performance tonight looked impeccable, still, despite how worn his body felt. You admired the eyeshadow framing his brown eyes– so warm, so full of adoration, practically dripping with overflowing honey. 

“You did good,” your thumb brushing over his cheekbone, cupping his jaw, “I was watching you and my friends kept gushing about you.” Your beloved’s face gleams with mirthful eyes, amused by the fact that none of your friends knew who your long-time boyfriend seemed to be, still. You were always the first one to tease them for being such big fans, devilishly keeping the tiny little secret that their favourite member has been in love with you for years now and you couldn’t imagine a life without him henceforth. 

The day he’d facetimed you sporting his brand new hair, you’d shrieked, dropping your phone in the process. He’d grown worried, wondering if you’d hated it, but you simply demanded he come home as soon as he possibly could. Why, he’d questioned, not that he’d ever refuse, and when you dropped the “We’re going to have so much fun.” bomb on him, he’d left his belongings on the spot, damn near hopping and skipping his way over.

Now, he is sliding down the cushion to huddle into your side. Warm tea in his hand, an arm slung comfortably around his sun’s shoulder to bring her closer without a single worry of being taken over by your scorching heat. Welcoming the destruction as much as the creation of everything beautiful in this world (his world, because so long as he has you, Hwang Hyunjin is a King and the whole world is his– you are).

Your fingers absentmindedly play with the hand over your shoulder he has graced you with, sipping on your caffeine concoction. “Congratulations on your Bonsang. You guys deserve it so much with how hard you work and deliver. Tell the boys that I’m so happy for them, too.” 

Light reaches his eyes when his lips pull apart into a wide smile, still exhilarated by the prospect of having won. “Thank you, my boss lady.” He presses a chaste kiss on your temple, getting a waft of your shampoo he’s used on more than a handful of occasions, later on finding one of his own in the shower. Now, everything here seemed to be for two, hints of love scattered all around in every insignificant corner of the house. 

“Shut up,” you giggle at the name he’d designated for you a long while ago, “I should be called Lady Overlord at this point.”

There is a certain pitch he laughs at like a cute little chime and you’re lucky enough to hear it on the regular. “People think I’m talking about my CEO whenever I tell them that boss is calling. It’s pretty funny, to be honest.”

Finding moments of silence as comfortable as this is hard for someone constantly surrounded by loud friends and loud music so Hyunjin knows to cherish it until it eventually ends. For now, he succumbs to the ache in his bones and lays his head on your lap, spine finally decompressing all of the pressure it has withstood the whole award season preparation period, followed up by rigorous performances. Tingles run down until they reach his fingertips from the way you oh, so deliciously run your nails on his scalp, smoothing over his short hair, the texture so satisfying to play with that you can never seem to get enough of it.

You know the effect it has on him as he’s often fallen asleep to you playing with his hair, short and long. He still has to take off his stage makeup and shower off the sweat and debris, but you allow him this brief moment of rest. That can wait another fifteen minutes, showing some much needed love and affection cannot. You can see his lashes fluttering closed despite trying his damndest to keep them open (he needs to keep them open, damn it, you wouldn’t understand. Breathing is a sin unless it’s your scent, sight a sin unless it’s to look into your eyes. You don’t understand, his planet orbits around your sun. Without you pulling him in, he is but a rogue, lost in the dark and cold space, wandering without aim).

“Relax, I’ll wake you up soon.” You shush him, swiping your palm over his eyes like a gentle feather. Hyunjin takes your word for it, drifting into a saccharine sweet sleep, lulled to sleep by your silent hum, the dishwasher’s rumble falling even further into the distant scapes of his mind.

© KOISHUA 2025 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[emsdevs]

Bear and Bug

a/n this is the start of the Quinn AU I mentioned :) if y'all like it feel free to send in some thoughts or questions about it so we can build it together!

Growing up, everyone you had ever known swore you’d end up married to Jack Hughes. You couldn’t disagree more. Sure, he was your best friend, practically attached at the hip, but neither of you had ever seen the other that way. If anything, you were closer to being siblings than lovers. Honestly, you were even close with his brother, considering they were basically a packaged deal.

Luke was like your own younger brother, and you always treated him as such. For as long as you can remember, you have been babying him and making sure his older brothers included him. On the off chance they did exclude Luke, you’d leave them to do their own thing while you spent time with him. 

Quinn, however, never seemed all that brotherly to you. He was never mean to you by any means, protective of you more often than not, but there was just something keeping you from looking at him like a brother. You never understood it, but you also never questioned it, enjoying the teasing relationship you had with the older boy. 

You finally began to understand it during your freshman year of college. With Jack doing his hockey stuff while you were attending school at UMich, you began to get closer to Quinn. You knew he had already been drafted and would be leaving for Vancouver at some point, but for a while, it was nice to have someone you knew at school. Quinn felt the same, enjoying having someone around who didn’t know him only because of hockey. You two found yourselves spending a ton of time together, to the point that when he did eventually leave in March, he called you almost every day. Not long before your summer break started, and Quinn’s off-season, you were speaking to him over the phone. 

“They started calling you what?” you questioned, not sure you’d heard him correctly.

“Huggy Bear. They said I looked cute and snuggly,” he breathed out a laugh as he spoke.

“Oh, I’m definitely stealing that. Huggy Bear,” you teased.

“Oh, yeah? Well, if I’m Huggy Bear, then you’re Cuddle Bug,” he gave it right back to you.

“Quinn where did you even get that?” you let out a belly laugh at the new nickname. You two continued to talk for what felt like hours, keeping one another updated on your lives.

Before you knew it, you two were exclusively calling one another the nicknames. You couldn’t remember the last time you had actually called Quinn “Quinn” unless you were talking to someone else. 

Just a few weeks later you were driving to the Hughes family’s lake house, ready to finally see your best friend before he got drafted and left you for the NHL. However, when you pulled up to the house, Jack wasn’t the brother who met you at your car. It was Quinn, ready and waiting to bundle you up in a long overdue hug.

“Bug!” he had shouted before your car door was even fully opened.

“Bear!” you yelled right back at him, bolting straight for his arms. What you didn’t see was a confused Jack and an even more confused Luke standing on the porch behind Quinn.

“When did they get that close?” Jack wondered aloud.

“What kind of nicknames are those?” Luke asked right back.

Just behind them were their parents in the doorway, realizing you would end up with one of their sons, just not the one they had originally thought.

[dearlot]

NO ORDINARY GIRL | lottie matthews

— pairing: mermaid!lottie matthews x gn!reader

— summary: a collection of stories involving your relationships with the mermaid!yellowjackets, starting with how you meet lottie.

— wordcount: 2,260

The moment you finished unpacking your bags, you headed to your favorite place whenever you're here on holiday: the beachside. It's wonderful there, almost a vacation home in itself. Your parents always reprimanded you for neglecting to spend time with your grandparents since this was their home, but you couldn't care less. Maybe they shouldn't have chosen such a cool spot to vacation. And besides, you were on vacation! You should be spending time at the beach and not at home.

The room that you stay in is filled with seashells and rocks you've collected over the years.

Coming here is all you really look forward to when summer rolls around. You collect things in your hometown, but the nearest beach is miles away, and even though you're an avid collector, you're also lazy. Seashells are your favorite. You love touching them, and you love how each of them is unique to one another. They're never the same. Like snowflakes.

It's an odd day, mainly because there's barely anyone out on the beach with you. Usually, it's packed with tourists and townspeople alike. But today there's just you, the new ice cream man whose name you learned is Chris (the one you remember from your childhood died a few months back. Poor guy. He used to give you freebies on your birthday), the old lady who likes to feed the seagulls, and this weird girl whose head you can see peeking from behind a rock. You've been watching her for a few minutes and wondering if she's alright. She looks alright, I mean, what you can see of her, at least. You thought she was drowning at first because of how long she's been in the water, but she's not calling out for help or thrashing around. Then you realize how dumb you sound. Of course she would be in the water, you're at a beach! You shake your head and scoff in embarrassment, getting up from the bench and thinking you could find more shells by the water's edge. Which just happens to be near where the girl is.

Maybe she's a collector like you? You could do with a friend here you think. You could impress her with your vast collection of shells and rocks. Your lips twist into a smile as you walk closer to the grey boulder where the girl hides behind, thinking about how you're going to introduce yourself later. For now, you need those damn seashells. You've only scored a few of them so far and it's the worst collecting day ever. None are even spilling out of your pockets like they usually are.

When you pass the boulder, you're only able to see the girl's face, which is just as pretty as you thought it would be, and her fiddling around with seashells and other beach junk. She doesn't seem to notice you as she smiles to herself and places her things in a neat line that's color-coded. She's cute, you think. Now you have to work 10x harder to come up with an introduction.

You turn back hopefully, half expecting her to be looking right back at you. But you don't see that. All you see are the waves crashing against the rock and a half-hidden scaly purple tail where her feet should be. You stop in your tracks immediately, leaning forward ever so slightly to get a good look at what you think is your imagination playing tricks on you. Blinking furiously, you brush at your eyes just to make sure, but no, what you see is genuinely real. The girl's tail flaps happily as she hums to herself and messes with her beach junk.

"What the fuck?" you murmur to yourself, definitely a little too loudly.

The girl gasps, her tail slapping the water and nearly splashing you as she scoots herself back. She looks at you, frightened and in shock before she dashes away. She's a blurred streak of white and blue as you watch her swim back into the ocean. You try to call out for her, running into the shallow water to see if she's still out here but there's nothing. Did you just witness a real mermaid?! You're frozen in utter surprise, and you only get a hold of yourself and move back to shore when your feet start tingling from the cold. As you walk back, you notice that she left behind her things, and you bend down to look at them.

Holy shit... she had a pearl?! You've been looking for one of these for goddamn years. Do you take it? No, you'd feel bad. But maybe... You glance up sheepishly before slowly slipping it into your grasp and then into your pocket. You're sure she has plenty of pearls. The rest of the stuff is just beach junk minus some shells you already have, but you decide to take all of it back home. Maybe you could return tomorrow and catch her again?

Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

No one says anything about the amount of junk in your hands when you arrive home, and you plop it down by your bed before faceplanting into the pillows that smell like your grandma's perfume. It's not even 6 pm yet and you're tired. You feel like getting some rest... At least sleeping meant you'd be seeing that mermaid girl faster.

When you wake up, you feel something swirling around in your stomach. Something that feels like you're anxiously waiting on something but you can't remember what. The longer you lie in bed, drifting between sleep and consciousness, the feeling gets stronger. You decide to get up and rub your eyes and stretch, washing away the sleep from your body. The smell of breakfast downstairs fills your nostrils and you sit up, tossing your blanket off before planting your feet on the floor.

"Ow, shit!" Something sharp poked your foot. You look down to see the beach junk you brought home yesterday and realize why you felt that strange sensation in your stomach earlier. Okay, maybe you're a little excited to go to the beach today. You really hope the mermaid is there. You'll have to be extra careful if she is since you don't want to scare her off again.

After you scarf down your breakfast and take a shower, you stuff the mermaid's things into a mesh bag and scour through your grandparents' garage to find that old scuba diving gear you know they still have. You've thought it over: if she isn't there, you think you know where she hides out. There's this small island not far from the beach that's perfect for a mermaid to live. You've never been to it, but you've passed by it dozens of times while boating with your dad and grandpa. You hope you're right, but if not, a nice trip to a cave would be nice either way. There are probably more things to collect in there that you've never even thought of.

The trip to the beach feels like the longest walk of your life.

You keep dropping the equipment and some guy tried to buy it off you which took up entirely way too much time of your life.

But you made it. Finally. You walk around a bit to look for her but she's not behind the rock or anywhere in sight. Scuba diving it is. As you finish putting everything on, you feel a little discouraged by the small dot the island makes in the distance, thinking that you might've overestimated your swimming abilities. Whatever. You grab the bag with a small pout and flip-flop into the water, hoping all of this will be worth it.

Turns out this scuba diving stuff is pretty exhausting. You've had to rest your arms and legs by drifting in the water for a few minutes before resuming. And you've been jumpscared by this dolphin a few times. You nearly shit yourself when you saw it first, assuming it was a shark, but it didn't try to attack you or anything. You don't know why it keeps coming back to fuck with you, but it almost looks like it leaves to go tell a friend about it. Fucker.

When you reach the island, you decide to take a 15 minute break for your body's sake. There's a lot more walking ahead and you know you'll thank yourself later.

After you get up and start walking around, observing the trees and nature all around you, you suddenly spot it. The cave. There's no way she isn't in there. You march your way through cobwebs and branches just to reach it but once inside, you're glad for those cuts on your arms and face because goddamn is it beautiful. The water is a cerulean blue and shines brightly in the sun due to the open hole at the top of the cave. You feel a sense of calmness wash over you just from looking at it. The rocky walls of the cave seem almost alive just as you are as the reflection of the water cast shadows upon them. And speaking of the walls, they seem to have markings on them. You walk closer, squinting your eyes to make out what you think are the words S + J. Hm. Maybe this cave is a popular spot for couples?

The more you look around, the more the cave looks lived in. There is some beach junk similar to what you found the girl playing with yesterday placed neatly in a pile in front of a rock. It has a name carved on it.

"Lottie?" you whisper to yourself. Is that the mermaid's name?

"Don't touch it!" Someone hisses.

You let out a choked gasp and turn around, eyes darting all over the cave before you see her. She's in the water with only her eyes above surface level almost like she's hiding from you. They almost seem fully black because of how big and wide they are. You quickly get up and the girl flinches in response. You assume she's going to retreat so you speak up before she can swim away again.

"Wait, I brought you your stuff back." You hold out the bag for her to see and shake it like a human would shake a bag of dog treats to get their dog's attention. "You left it yesterday..."

Slowly, you inch forward and softly place the bag before her. You scoot back to give her some room and wait.

The mermaid eyes you curiously and with some skepticism, but swims forward to swipe the bag from the surface. You watch as she opens the zipper quickly and shuffles through the items with a smile on her face. She looks back up at you when you shift on your feet and pauses before frowning. "Where's the pearl?"

Shit.

You left it at home for yourself.

"Uh, there was no pearl when I found it." you lie, giving her your best confused look. "Must've washed away or something."

She frowns once more and places the bag back on the sandy surface. "Thank you. I like collecting this type of junk. The others say I'm weird for spending so much time by the shore, but I like studying humans."

The others? Studying humans?

"You're welcome. You're Lottie, right? That's your rock?" you nod towards her 'junk' rock.

She confirms with a nod and reveals more of her body as she swims up and places her elbows on the rocks. The bra? Scales? Covering her chest is a magnificent shade of different kinds of purple. Her tail that flutters gently in the water matches it.

"I didn't mean to scare you yesterday," you mention, sitting down in the sand and running your fingers through the grains. "You kinda scared me as well. I've never seen a mermaid before."

"I've never seen a human so up close either. I usually just observe from afar." Lottie replies and puts her chin under her palms. "Why'd you bring my stuff back?"

"Dunno." you shrug. "You collect stuff like me. Thought maybe you'd appreciate it or something..." You trail off at the end, looking down and blushing. "Plus, I thought you were pretty."

Her tail splashes against the water hard at your comment and she clears her throat, feeling embarrassed. "What do you collect?" She's curious, she'll admit it. She's not even supposed to be interacting with humans under any circumstances, but you intrigue her. You don't seem like a threat anyhow.

"Anything. Shells, rocks, fossils, random things I find off the street. I have a whole collection of receipts from when I go out to eat."

"Can you...show me your collection?" she murmurs shyly, removing her face from her palms and nervously tapping her nails against the rocks.

"Sure, but how? I don't think I can make it here again, no offense. It's a hell of a swim." you chuckle, smiling at how her eyes shine brightly after you agree.

"I can help with that. I can bring you back to the beach in seconds!" she exclaims, her voice high and excited. "Or you can piggyback on one of my dolphins."

You barely have time to process what she just said before she speaks again.

"Can you show me right now? Please?"

You feel like everything's happening all at once and don't know how to reply, so you simply nod.

Hey, maybe you can even bring her back the pearl you stole from her. She'd probably like you even more.

lottie taglist: @heliolottie

[doberbutts]

i know people rag on gc2b but. i don't really get why? i have like 5 underworks binders of various size and model and none of them bind well on me and roll up constantly. gc2b requires adjustment every now and then but that's normal for any garment. but binders with a stiffened front panel are binding, all stretch with no solid panel just acts like a shitty sports bra. i don't get it. half convinced people just say shit because they got One with mid stitching and decided all of their product must be just like that, and that underworks must have superior binding because they make things for cis men. which i don't think is true for comfort or binding.

I don't honestly know either- I haven't bought a binder for about 3 years and before that for another 3 or 4, so I can only say that it was a recent development that I see people complaining about the quality of gc2b. They've always worked for me but yes, they do fall apart after a while. When I started binding, it was a known thing that you would be replacing your binder yearly, and maybe if you took very good care of your binder you could get away with every 2-3, with specific care notes on how to make your binders last longer. It does make me wonder if somewhere we lost track of that.

I do know some of the people complaining about gc2b are well outside of the sizes the company makes their clothes in. This is a fair complaint in my mind because I am not a particularly big person (and my doctor called me obese at my last weight check due to BMI) and I am already in the XXL/XXXL range. I do think that a restructuring of sizing and also offering larger sizing should happen. And I again wonder if that is part of the problem- people squeezing themselves into a binder that is inherently too small for them is absolutely going to wear that binder out way quicker.

Another complaint I've seen is that they don't bind well enough for the particularly well endowed. I have fairly medium sized breasts myself so I can't speak to that on personal experience, but I do have a friend who is at the top end of gc2b's range who has breasts that are both larger and saggier than mine and he is quite satisfied with his binding experience. That being said, anyone larger than him would be SOL, so again, it does sound like there is a significant sizing problem.

I do have a friend who prefers the old style of underworks which had a binding front panel the full length of the garment, which has since been deemed unsafe and discontinued en mass for most binder companies. He had a dysphoria related panic attack meltdown the first time he put on a gc2b because the front panel being only chest-length felt far too much like a bra to him. He has fairly significant chest dysphoria and he also has been binding since he started growing breasts during puberty, and is significantly older than me, so I've long chalked that up to different world and dysphoria. He has since gotten used to the gc2b style and still wears them, but it was quite startling for him.

If I weren't having top surgery hopefully soon, I would still be buying gc2b, and when I buy binders for trans guys starting out I buy from that company unless they tell me a different company preference. Like I offered to buy someone a shapeshifters a few months ago because he was saying that he wouldn't fit a gc2b and wanted to bind and had a specific binder in mind. But otherwise if someone who I know fits in their size range asks, I still refer people to that company, because I and my friends have not had problems.

[candyheartedchy]

Part two of this, so if you want more context on this analysis, please read the first part!

In part one I went over the struggles of SpongeBob’s desire to fit in and how he falls into this perfectionist nature. And because of this, he also falls into being a people pleaser A LOT. Where he’ll put the needs of others (mostly his friends) before his own. He also gets tricked and manipulated constantly by folks for their own personal gain and selfish reasons. Not to say SpongeBob doesn’t have any himself, but he tends to put his own on the back burner in order to please his friends. Again, he’s a people pleaser, he wants everyone to like him. The episode “Not Normal” is another example of him worrying he’s not normal enough and changes his personality and appearance because he thinks he’ll be better. He also worries what his own parents think of him, even though his parents don’t mind his energetic nature and childlike wonder.

Once again trying to prove himself to people. But the question still stands, will he ever “grow up” and “be mature”?

Well, that’s where Coraline (my self insert) comes in.

Coraline is a sea monster. Her species is well known for being scary and dangerous. But she’s not. She’s an outcast. Spending her entire youth bullied by other sea monsters due to being seen as “sensitive” and “weak”. And once old enough, she leaves her trench. Going from town to town trying to find a place to call home, before finding herself in Bikini Bottom and ends up working for Plankton because no one else will hire her. Already sealing her fate of crossing paths with SpongeBob. And once the two do meet, SpongeBob of course wants to befriend her, offering to show her around because he wants to make a good impression. But due to Mr. Krabs threatening him when they find out she works for Plankton, the sponge once again puts others before his own needs, causing Coraline to get stood up by him. And then SpongeBob ends up having to apologize later on.

[More context of this in the first two chapters of the fanfic about them here!]

Eventually he forms a friendship with the sea monster, almost in secret from his own boss.

Right away the two hit it off, discovering that they share a few similar hobbies and interests. But the two also start to notice that they share the same struggles as well. People pleasing. SpongeBob does it to avoid being alone, while Coraline does it to not be seen as a threat. Unlike SpongeBob, Coraline accepts her loneliness, purposefully avoiding folks and will sometimes deny the sponge’s offers in fear of scaring him off, but because she wants to keep peace, she keeps accepting them.

But SpongeBob is scared. Not because Coraline is scary. He’s afraid of being tricked and disappointing his boss. With Mr. Krabs filling his head with the idea that Plankton is using Coraline to get to him to get to the secret formula, SpongeBob starts to get paranoid. While Coraline on the other hand feels trapped because she has to do what Plankton tells her or else she loses her job. But because she’s honest, she’ll let SpongeBob in on the plans, allowing the two to be one step ahead of their bosses to avoiding any conflict between them. The two then start to make a game out of it, sneaking around and being very tongue in cheek whenever they have to “confront” each other during work hours. But once the two starts to catch feelings for each other, it gets messy really fast.

Coraline believes she’s a mistake. Believes every time SpongeBob is nice to her is out of either pity or as a joke. She wants to avoid him but can’t, SpongeBob is stubborn, but so is she, so it’s a constant push and pull between the two. SpongeBob genuinely enjoys her company. He never met anyone who treated him gently before and he doesn’t want to mess up whatever they have going between them because he’s afraid he won’t find it again.

Skipping forward to them dating. For another analysis post on the whole thing about SpongeBob and dating can be found here!

Neither have any dating experiences. The only time SpongeBob had form “relationships��� was with a boat, a spatula and a krabby patty.

With “Spatula” he had to get a replacement in order to continue his work and the episode is kinda treated like a “cheating” allegory in a way that SpongeBob chose his work before the spatula, later in tears asking “Spatula” for forgiveness. Again we could see this as an internal battle SpongeBob most likely have that he himself worries about being replaced and sorta acts the scenario out. I know this (and the other episodes) is played for laughs, but I’m making this deeper than it should because I like him to have depth dammit!

“Boatie” comes from SpongeBob’s loneliness of everyone leaving town and once again starts to believe the boat has it out for him while he talks to a puppet of Patrick, again most likely acting out a scenario he most likely fears will happen to him one day. I could also go on about the whole “National No Spongebob Day” subplot at the end of that episode, but that would end up being a rant…

Heck even Bubble Buddy plays into this since SpongeBob created him out of loneliness due to all his friends being busy (before it’s revealed that the bubble is alive).

And then there’s “Patty”. He becomes infatuated with a krabby patty and I think the little teasing comments from Squidward about it triggered the attachment into an obsession from SpongeBob. Because if we once again go by the one comment in the episode “The Chaperone” where he never had a date to prom, it’s most likely he never dated in general.

He wants to feel wanted, but doesn’t know how to get it without it backfiring.

Once getting closer to SpongeBob, Coraline catches on right away that SpongeBob goes to desperate measures to make her happy, which makes her uncomfortable. To her SpongeBob is more mature in her eyes since he has more life experiences than her and she’s the only one who treats him with respect because of it, so once noticing his people pleasing nature, she tries to step in out of concern. Because he doesn’t need to change for her, she already accepts him as is. Which of course throws SpongeBob out of loop because this is what he always does, he has to help others however he can, and he recognizes Coraline’s struggles and wants to help her too. Eventually the pair starts to get frustrated by each other due to this, not realizing that they are both not only forcing themselves out of their comfort zones, but also growing as people from their impact on one another. Causing them both for the first time in their lives to “grow up” and accept being different.

[fatigue-d]

"It's you , Despite everything, it's still you. "

Words: around 1k

Inspired by this amazing fanart by @padiduys :

--------------------------------------------------

"IT'S YOU "

Mark gently brushed Fernando's cheek, his loving gaze shimmering in his eyes. The Spaniard took no notice, talking to Kimi about the upcoming race, his eyes full of challenge and his proud smile. He was a competitor, one of those rarely seen, those who live for glory, victory and, in his case, speed. It's all about speed, and always will be. And under these conditions, one wondered how a love affair could be created. But Fernando wasn't just a competitor, he wasn't just greedy, he was greedy too, and that was another sin, but don't hold that against him, he's human after all. In his greed, he had kept deep down his love for his friends, his family and Mark...

He cherished them and didn't want anyone to take them away from him, his sweet words in Spanish, his discreet caresses, his secret and often unexpected kisses, his freshly bought flowers from the local florist, his lame jokes, his charming smile. He dedicates them all to one person, whom he likes to call "Mine". Mark, too, appreciates this attention, moving in it, flanning like the sun, with the certainty that their love will fight anything.

Their love so sweet, their love so strong, their love so secret. Because, as Fernando had said a few lines earlier, he was greedy, and his greed manifested itself in his need for secrecy, for "their things", for lies.

After all, perfect love means discreet love.

" DESPITE EVERYTHING "

I'm not going to Ferrari," says Mark.

And his words destroyed everything. Absolutely everything, a chaos of screams, insults, annoyance, everything but crying. Because why cry over so little? He was just a colleague, after all, just a colleague....

Yet this sentence had been like a bomb, said in public, the atmosphere previously ecstatic, the moment now as if frozen by this sudden coldness.

Mark knew what he was getting into when he said this, because it wasn't Ferrari's refusal that had led to the dispute, it was the confirmation that next year, he would be retiring. That the words were heard by all only added fuel to the fire, for even if Fernando's greed was proven, Mark's was far greater. So when he destroyed the open secret, everything went with it.

Fernando had done his best to get him to stay, trying to convince him to change teams, to finally leave Red Bull, which no longer respected him. But he was tired, terribly tired, but his love for Fernando is intact. For, despite the fact that he was leaving, he had hoped to stay with him, to share his days and nights, and so had Fernando, but the separation was too strong, and sooner or later one of them would have cracked.

So it was on one of their dates that Mark accepted his sentence, knowing the consequences but unable to accept them. But if it wasn't him who put an end to it, it would have been Fernando, and that would have been far more heartbreaking and destructive. For Fernando loves passionately, a flame seemingly burning in his heart, fueling his will, his hope and his love. And Mark had plunged into it, unafraid of getting burned, but perhaps he should have, for now he could only see himself as a charred corpse.

So....

He said the word.

"It's over"

He bitterly regretted the second he said them, then knew he couldn't go back when Fernando cried in front of him. He'd never made him cry before, not from joy, not from sadness. He'd hoped the Spaniard's tears would flow when he proposed, the mark of his ring box still visible on his faded jeans. But he'd dreamed too much.

And when he'd left the restaurant, he too had felt drops on his cheeks, his vision blurred, but he hadn't noticed them. Probably too absorbed by the sadness he'd caused the man he loved, and would love forever, to feel.

" IT'S STILL YOU "

Seeing Fernando in a green outfit was confusing for him, as he was far too used to Ferrari's reds and Renault's bright blues. Yet this color suited him like a glove, as did all the others if you asked him, but I doubt you'd be interested in hearing a middle-aged man's monologues about his husband.

His beard was grayer than the last time they'd shared a podium, wrinkles adding to his face as age crept into both their lives.

It had made them mature, Mark hoped, they had seen each other again, after a long time, but they had still managed this small step after years of radio silence.

Their first conversations had been tinged with nostalgia, remorse, sometimes resentment, a strange taste of bitterness sticking to both men's palates. Yet Mark had recognized one thing he'd forgotten after their break-up, and that was gentleness.

The gentleness in Fernando's voice when he spoke of them, his smile, his touch, shorter than before but as comforting as ever. He'd created a portrait of the fearless, fearless Spaniard, but he'd completely overlooked a part of the Spaniard's personality.

His concern for his loved ones, his love of animals, his desire to advance the next generation, his muted anger, always more impactful than shouting.

All this less flamboyant side of the Spaniard had been forgotten after so many years. But it was this one that made him fall in love again, even more strongly than the first, because it was still him and had always been him.

And maybe now the ring on Fernando's hand would be the talk of the town, maybe this time the secret would be less guarded, maybe this time Mark wouldn't be able to deny it.

But it's about time, discretion has a limit and for Mark it stops at affection. For he has no intention of stopping dating Fernando for any reason as stupid as fear.

Fear of other people's gaze, fear of a distant and unpredictable future. Because he knew he had Fernando Alonso by his side, always by his side despite the passage of time.

Because it's him , despite everything, it's still him.

--------------

I hope you enjoyed it! Credit goes to @padiduys for his incredible fanart, I think my idea was pretty far from the fanart, but Fernando's smile was just too tender for me not to write about it.

[feroluce]

I've been yapping at a new friend a lot lately about Boothill & Rappa; she described them as "sidekicks in chaos" and! Yes! Finally!Someone else gets it! They're SO cute and so sweet, I adore them. They speak so highly about each other and they have a lot of respect between them! I love them being friends!

With the way Rappa calls him Lord (vs Ninja for everyone else) and how much she openly admires and mimics him, I'd like to think Boothill was the one that showed her the ropes when she was first brought into the Galaxy Rangers. Mentor/mentee and teacher/student are too strong of labels for how I see them, though.

Rappa and Boothill are like a college senior taking the new little freshman under their wing. Or the much older and more experienced coworker trying to look out for the fresh-faced little newbie who's just entering the workforce.

As for how they met and became friends in the first place, I like to imagine it was a case of Boothill's soft heart and being unable to turn a blind eye to things. ☆

Like Boothill wasn't on the mission where the Galaxy Rangers found Rappa, he was off on his own Hunt at the time. But given that the Galaxy Rangers have a leader (La Mancha) and they do seem to have some kind of organized efforts, I wonder if there's any kind of secret hq, or at least certain places where they tend to congregate, like how the Masked Fools have their taverns. Anyway.

Boothill maybe sees Rappa for the first time at one of these hqs (he came back when he heard there'd been a major breakthrough with Dr. Primitive). Or he maybe just happens to run into that Galaxy Ranger from 2.6 that initially found her, who then just. Wasn't really sure what to do with her after the raid. Boothill walks in all these Rangers sitting around like "well now what" because none of them actually expected Rappa to survive the memetic virus. Honestly, her brain should have fried.

Either way, Boothill comes across her by total coincidence. But I think he'd have a lot of sympathy for her because like. Aeragan-Epharshel had been an uncontacted planet before the IPC came around. And since they were there to fuck the place up, they definitely didn't expose the natives to the rest of the cosmos. To say that Boothill "left" the planet is a massive underestimation- he didn't just leave, he escaped. And when he got out, he was completely alone, with very little idea how the rest of the world worked or how to get by.

And right now, Rappa is much the same.

She doesn't know anything beyond the lab she was held captive in all her life. There's no way they would have allowed her to learn that kind of stuff, and I'm sure Kucha wouldn't have told her out of kindness. It would be cruel to taunt her with things she couldn't have.

So someone needs to teach her The Ways of the World! It's just a matter of deciding who.

Boothill: ...What're you morons doing.

The Rangers, in the middle of a very intense rock-paper-scissors tournament:

And Boothill likes these people. He really does! ...Ok, except that one guy. He's kind of a prick. But the rest of them are at least mostly decent! But he wouldn't trust them to keep a pool, let alone a whole human being. If he lets this girl go with any of these dumbasses, there's no way she'll make it. So Boothill smacks them around a bit and announces fine, he'll show the new girl how to be a Galaxy Ranger! If any of them have a problem with this, feel free to make complaints to his revolver ☆

Rappa watches all this go down with stars in her eyes, because Boothill is just like the heroes in her manga! Wow! So cool!

(When it came time to actually leave though, Rappa made some sad eyes at the Ranger from 2.6 that actually found her- for better or worse, she got a little attached. The Ranger told her to go on! Go! Just get out of here!

It's very important to imagine this like a movie where the kid frees the wild animal they bonded with skhzksksjk)

Afterwards, Boothill does actually take Rappa aside and ask if she even wants to be a Ranger. If she doesn't, it's fine. The Galaxy Rangers do a lot of charity work, and everyone knows someone who knows someone who knows someone. They'll find somebody that can help her figure things out and get settled. She can have an actual life now.

Rappa gives a passionate speech (that Boothill catches about 50% of sdlkfjasdl) about how she wants nothing more. She'd wanted it before she even knew the name for it. This was what she'd dreamed of, laying across the bed in Kucha's room, reading through his manga collection for the nth time.

Kucha isn't with her anymore. He'd died just to get her out of there. But she can take the opportunity he gave her and make the most of it. She can still keep her dream alive.

So yes, Rappa wants to be a Ninja Hero. Please teach her!

(Boothill: Bein' a Galaxy Ranger ain't easy shirt. Ya gotta be able to hold yer own in a fight. Can ya even do that?

And then Rappa fucking suplexed him and Boothill was like ok so the first parta bein' a Galaxy Ranger is- JSJJSJDKSK)

They're mentioned together so much outside of the main game, too. So I'd like to think even after Boothill passed on to Rappa all the street smarts he could, they still remained pretty friendly, and make the time and effort to meet up whenever they pass nearby. They just ended up getting along so well!

Like no, they don't see each other very often. They're each on their own separate Hunt. Galaxy Rangers still largely work alone. But they're the kind of buddies that can still happily greet each other the same even after months of not speaking. ♡

(Clutching my heart imagining Boothill telling Rappa she is now a full-fledged Ninja Hero, and she is now strong enough to make her solo journey! But he does give her his phone number. And he tells her that if she's in trouble- like real, real bad trouble- call him. Call him and he'll come runnin', to any corner of the galaxy, ok?)

[lulublack90]

Prompt 8 - Physical

Wolfstar, January 8, word count 722

Previous part First part

Everything was delicious. Remus had three platefuls to Sirius’s amusement. 

“Where is it all going?” He asked, prodding a finger into Remus’s flat stomach. Remus shrugged as he swallowed another roast potato.

“No idea. Mum used to say I had hollow legs. She used to joke that she’d never managed to fill me, I just kept eating.” He hadn’t talked about his mum for a long time. It usually came with pain as he remembered her, but with Sirius, talking about her filled him with warmth.

Once they were finished, Remus dutifully took their plates to the kitchen and began washing up. Sirius slid in beside him and began drying what Remus had washed. They worked in comfortable silence, but Remus could tell Sirius was building up to ask him something. His eyes kept darting towards Remus and his mouth kept opening and shutting without any words coming out. 

“So, erm, this Sunday my parents are hosting an event for MS and I wondered if you might want to go with me? You don’t have to,” He added quickly, seeing Remus wince. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to go with you because I do. I just agreed to work Sunday night, and if I cancel, I might not get asked again.”  That was the problem with his other job. If you turned down the work, then the next time you’ll be the last person on the list they ask and right now he couldn’t afford that. 

“Oh, alright,” Sirius said sadly, reaching up to put the plates back in the cupboard. Remus opened his mouth to explain further, but right at that second, his phone went off. Olivia Newton-John singing ‘Let’s Get Physical!’ On repeat. It was James. 

“Sorry,” Remus apologised as he answered the call. “Hey James, what’s up?”

“Hey, babe,” Remus could hear the smile in James’s voice and found a smile of his own creeping across his mouth. “You still up for Saturday then? Lily wanted me to check,” Shit, he’d forgotten about Saturday. It was Lily’s birthday, and they were all getting together for a party at theirs. Remus suddenly had an idea. He turned to Sirius and, holding the phone against his shoulder, asked. “Do you fancy coming to a friend's party with me on Saturday?” Sirius’s face lit up and he nodded yes. Remus put the phone back to his ear and found James rabbiting on about all the decorations he’d bought and how it was going to take him forever to blow up all the balloons. “Hey, James, would it be alright for me to bring somebody?” The line went silent. “James?” Remus asked, pulling the phone away and checking the screen to make sure they were still connected. 

“What, like a date?” James asked curiously. Remus looked at Sirius. He had no idea what their relationship was. Sirius held out his hand and Remus passed him his phone. 

“Hi, James, is it? This is Sirius. Remus doesn’t know it yet, but I’m his boyfriend… Yes, that’s right, the one that keeps inviting himself over for sleepovers… Oh my god, yes, Sweeny Kebab, right?… He totally is… I did, it was the worst thing I’ve ever put in my mouth… No seriously… Did you get one of those hand pumps? One of those would make it so much easier… We could come around early and help you set up… Yes, of course, I can’t wait to meet you. I’ve only met Remus’s father… Oh, yeah… He left pretty quickly once he found out who I was… Oh, erm, Sirius Black… Yeah, yeah, that’s them… Really?… Damn, James, that's, that's so sweet… Yeah, see you on Saturday… Bye.” Sirius handed Remus his phone back. 

“I love him, Remus, I demand that you keep him,” James told him as soon as he put the phone back to his ear. 

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” He answered, watching Sirius move about his flat with easy familiarity. The little weirdo had completely enamoured Remus. His boyfriend. It felt right somehow, even if they��d only known each other for days, it felt like so much more. “See you Saturday,” He said to James, before hanging up and going to sit with Sirius on the sofa. Sirius immediately cuddled up to him and Remus pressed play on his DVD player. 

Next part

[l1ve-l4ugh-lov3craft]

I Have More Rosekiller Fake Dating AU

a continuation of this drabble ( @dairekt-cat there's another)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

They ended up agreeing to all meet at the venue separately and go over the “plan of attack,”  as Barty had very cleverly called it, before going in. Regulus was the only one there when Barty arrived, which served him just fine. He flashed him a grin and a couple finger guns for good measure as he sauntered over, which Regulus promptly rejected with a scowl.

“You can’t be acting like that while we’re in there,” he said the moment Barty was in earshot. So much for friendly greetings.

“‘Hi, Barty. How are you, Barty?” Barty replied loudly, “You look so hot and sexy in that suit, Barty. Did you steal your father’s credit card to buy it?’ Why yes, Reg, I did. Thanks for asking. How are y-”

“Yes, yes, okay I hear you.” Regulus elbowed him hard enough to make Barty stumble back a bit.

Barty was still snickering under his breath as he straightened and scanned their near surroundings. Lots of expensive looking people in expensive looking outfits with expensive looking expressions of passive tolerance slowly filing into the gala venue. No sign of Pandora Rosier or the asshole who insulted his tattoo work last week, which was all well and good as far as Barty was concerned. Might be nice to slip in, swipe some of the fancy booze, and then be able to just dip and leave Regulus to deal with the upper-class as he did best.

“Think your mum will be terribly pissed if you get stood up tonight?” He asked, eyes still flitting over the clusters of people still arriving.

Regulus crossed his arms, “I am not going to be stood up.” He said.

Barty felt his face pinch rather against his own will. It was - he looked at his watch - three minutes until seven. And neither of the Rosier twins were anywhere in sight. Not exactly standup odds, but who was he to deny Regulus his delusions?

“You keep telling yourself that, buddy. But if they don’t show, just know that I’m absolutely gonna-”

Barty needed to study the uncanny accuracy of that ‘speak of the devil and he shall appear’ saying. Because not two fucking seconds after the words came out of his moth, who should show up in all their pasty, bleach-blonde glory?

Alright, fine. That was a bit harsh. Pandora Rosier was, admittedly, a rather beautiful young woman. She held herself with confidence and grace, and she had a sort of perpetual soft smile on her face that made you think she knew something you didn’t at all times. She had on a lacy, sage green ball gown type dress that Barty felt like one wouldn’t typically see at 21st century events like this and he nodded appreciatively at her ability to not give a single fuck. Subtly of course. Heaven forbid he appear like he was having positive feelings about anything related to this situation.

And Evan was…Well, sue Barty but he was hot, okay?? In, like, an asshole type of way where you looked at him and it just made you angry cos no one who was that much of a dick should look that good. He had fucking crystals braided into his hair. Who did that? And why did it look so good and bring out the flecks of blue in his eyes so well? Barty wanted to strangle him. Really.

Pandora smiled kindly when the two of them stopped in front of Regulus, and Barty was surprised to watch as she took even one step closer to pull his friend into a hug. He was practically balking when Regulus returned the hug in kind. Asshole. Regulus never hugged him. 

“It’s wonderful to see you, Regulus,” Pandora smiled, then she turned to Barty, “You must be Barty. It’s a pleasure!”

He nodded and took her hand when she offered it, but in less of a handshake way and more of a…she held his hand and squeezed it in a sort of friendly…sisterly way. It was weird, and he didn’t hate it. 

Then he looked past Pandora and his gaze met Evans and...yikes. Lots of personality and warmth in those eyes. Yeesh. The dude looked like he was a thousand miles away and had generic, pre-programmed responses for every possible conversation scenario ready to auto-play when needed. This was going to be fun. He wasn’t particularly inclined to try civility, but he figured if he was gonna be around this bloke all night he might as well at least attempt to be nice.

He put on a smile and stuck out his hand, “So, seems we’re stuck together tonight, eh? Name’s B-”

“I know who you are.” Evan cut in, neither letting him finish nor taking his hand.

‘Well fuck you, too. Asshole.’

“Evan,” Barty heard Pandora hiss.

It was fine. Barty could play this game too.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” He asked, “Had a lot of fun in my chair the other day, huh? Don’t think anyone ever really forgets their first bl-”

“Barty,” it was Regulus’ turn to snap. Barty scowled at him but dropped it. 

“We should go inside,” Pandora suggested, her voice a bit tight, “The gala should be starting soon.”

She tucked her hand into Regulus’ arm and let him lead her through the front doors, leaving Evan still outside with Barty. Eyes narrowed, he gave him a final once-over. Nice suit. Black with deep crimson roses embroidered on the lapels and cuffs. He was pretty sure the cufflinks were roses as well. A bit on the nose all things considered, but it was nicely tailored, clearly expensive, and it did look good on him. 

He made sure Evan noticed the way his eyes fell to the embroidery on his lapels before looking up at him with a smirk, “Hah. Rosie.”

Evan’s reply was immediate, “Do not call me that.”

“I’m gonna call you that.”

“Fuck you.”

Barty grinned, tucking himself dramatically into Evan’s side as they followed after Regulus and Pandora, “Oh you wish, sweetheart. You wish.”

[blushspatula]

Foreign Words

Reader, a young adult, is tired of their monotonous, stressful and depressive life. One day, they absurdly appears in the world of the famous Chinese play called "Journey to the West", but, surprise, they don't know Chinese!

Characters:

Reader.

Aka "little one" or "foreign".

They are a modern, ordinary human who accidentally appears in the ancient world of the Chinese play called "Journey to the West."

A human without magic, but that don't stop them. They are a boundless workaholic, probably managing money even in the middle of an ambush. When they're not trying to work on something (or everything), they can be found playing their beloved guitar, which they carries around like it's they best friend.

As an insomniac musician, Reader possesses the surprising (and worrying) ability to survive on an amount of sleep that would make any normal human collapse. While others are sleeping peacefully, they are awake, making up songs about their misfortunes (as a way of coping) and singing them. They are likely to solve problems faster, although sometimes their ideas are meaningless when sleep deprivation takes its toll. They also have a short-term memory most of the time.

"Who needs sleep when you can put your problems to music?"

They really misses sleeping in a normal bed. Please, someone have mercy on them.

Sun Wukong.

Sun Wukong is small, but his power knows no bounds. Impulsive, he always acts first and asks questions later (if he asks anything at all). He doesn't have much patience for following orders, and if someone tells him what to do, he'll almost certainly do the opposite just for the fun of it. A rebel at heart, he's never been a fan of authority, especially if it comes from someone bigger or more important than him (which is almost everyone, given his size). Wukong doesn't have time to think before he acts. Plan? Nah! Better to jump headfirst into danger and see what happens. He's cunning like few others, always finding the quickest way out, or at least the most entertaining one.

However, despite his wild nature, Wukong knows how to get out of any mess he gets himself into (which happens more often than he'd like to admit). And when you earn his respect, he's loyal to the end. He defends his friends with an intensity that shows that, even though he has a hard time admitting it, he has a big heart. He may be mischievous and a bit chaotic, but he's always there when you really need him… Although sometimes you wonder if he does it for you or because he's just bored.

Tang Sanzang.

Tang Sanzang is the kind of person who firmly believes that peace and understanding can solve almost any problem… Even if he’s surrounded by hungry demons who want to eat him. Wise in many things, he always has profound and instructive advice to offer, though sometimes his innocence leads him to underestimate how dangerous situations are (such as when he insists on dialoguing with monsters who would clearly rather devour him than listen to his profound words).

His compassion is so great that he feels bad even when he steps on an ant, making him a pacifist at heart. While his peers prefer the “hit first, ask questions later” approach, Sanzang always advocates dialogue and non-violence, though sometimes that tests the patience of his more impulsive protectors. Despite his apparent fragility, he has an inner strength that drives him forward, convinced that kindness can conquer even the most terrible evil. He'll probably ask you to put the staff away and try to talk him through it, though… Even if the monster looks like he wants to use it as an appetizer.

A pacifist by nature, he'd rather sit down and have tea with a demon than fight, which sometimes makes his companions wonder if he's a little overly optimistic… Or if he just doesn't realize how dangerous the situation is.

Zhu Bajie.

Zhu Bajie is the kind of fellow who is always looking for two things: food and a nap. A top-notch glutton, he seems to have a bottomless stomach, and if there's food nearby, it's sure to be on his plate… Or in his mouth. His personal motto is something along the lines of "work as little as possible and eat as much as possible." In fact, if he can avoid a fight and resolve the situation with a feast instead of a battle, he'll do so without hesitation.

Besides being a slacker, Bajie is a born comedian, always cracking jokes (sometimes too inappropriate) even at the worst of times, making him the comic relief of the group, though not always intentionally. Despite his good humor, he has one very clear weak spot: women. An incorrigible womanizer, Bajie always has his head (and eyes) set on any lady who crosses his path, which usually gets him into more trouble than he can handle. Although he sometimes gives the impression that he doesn't take anything seriously, deep down he's a loyal friend who cares deeply… As long as you don't ask him to make a stale joke about Sun Wukong.

Sha Wujing

Sha Wujing is the rock of the group, the kind of person who always remains calm, even when chaos is unleashed around him (and traveling with Wukong and Bajie, that happens quite often). With his cool demeanor and calm voice, he's the one who manages to bring some sanity to the craziest of arguments, though he rarely butts in directly. He prefers to observe in silence and speak only when he has something important to say, making him a comforting presence for his companions at times.

He's incredibly loyal, the first to offer to shoulder the group's burdens, literally and metaphorically. If there's something heavy to carry, a thankless task to accomplish, or simply someone who needs support, Wujing will be there without a complaint. His resilience has seen him overcome trials that would have broken others, but you'll never hear him brag about it. Humble to the core, he seeks no recognition or glory; he just wants to do his duty and protect his friends along the way.

Despite his serious and chilling appearance, Wujing has a warm heart and endless patience, making him an anchor for the group. In a team full of chaotic personalities, he's the one who remembers that it doesn't always take magic, humor, or impulsiveness to face challenges: sometimes, it just takes someone who won't give up and keeps going, one step at a time.

Bai Long Ma.

Bai Long Ma, once a dragon prince, lived a life of luxury and pride… Until one bad decision led to his banishment. Now, in his white horse form, he accompanies pilgrims with unwavering loyalty. Although he can speak, he rarely does, preferring to let his actions speak for him.

He is altruistic in nature, always willing to bear the burdens of the group without complaint. His presence is calm and pleasant, as if he carries with him a little bit of the majesty he once had as a dragon. Silent but noble, Bai Long Ma is the companion who is always there, strong and reliable, even when no one else notices.

PD: This character reference sheet may change. In any case, notice of any changes will be given.

[mylovesstuffs]

Jin version !

Request: May I pls request jealousy headcanons for BTS members? reader (she's not famous and has a normal job) thinks of them as just friends, cause she never thought they would have a crush on her but they do.Then one day they get jealous when she ignores them for her guy best friend (whom she has a crush on) so they force her to leave but can't confess because they know she only likes them as a friend? unfortunately I am not very good with handling angsty stuff 🥹 so it will be great if you could write some fluffier headcanons about my request

A/N: This is the first post of the series, I hope it's not as bad as I say 😭 it's not the best I know but I'll try my best to improve. I don't know why it didn't turn out like I hoped for.

series masterlist

This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.

Jin always tries to be the reliable friend—the one who makes you laugh, gives great advice, and checks in after a long day. But lately, he’s felt like second place to your guy best friend.

He notices how you light up when you talk about your best friend. It stings more than he’d like to admit, but Jin tries to brush it off with jokes like, “Oh, should I start taking notes from him?”

You’ve canceled plans with Jin a few times now, always saying, “I promised g/bsf I’d help him with something.” He plays it cool but spends the rest of the day eating snacks in front of the TV, sulking and grumbling under his breath.

Jin’s jealousy doesn’t make him angry—it makes him hurt. He wonders what your best friend has that he doesn’t, or why you’d never think of him as more than a friend. Am I just not boyfriend material? he mumbles to himself. (Jin, my love, you're not boyfriend material unfortunately instead... you're a husband material)

He gets extra clingy the next time you hang out—offering to cook your favorite dish, teasing you more than usual, and even pulling out his dad jokes just to get your attention lmao.

When you’re with your guy best friend in Jin’s presence, he turns into the ultimate performer. Suddenly, he’s louder, funnier, and more dramatic—ANYTHING to distract you from your best friend.

One day, he snaps when you ignore him mid-conversation to reply to your best friend’s text. Jin blurts out, “Do I have to be him to get your attention?” It catches both of you off guard, and he immediately regrets saying it. *insert skeleton emoji here TT*

Feeling cornered by his emotions, Jin suggests leaving early from your next hangout. “I just remembered I have to be at the studio,” he lies, not wanting to see you fawn over someone else anymore.

He tries to convince himself he’s being selfish. She’s happy, he tells himself. That should be enough for me. But it’s not, and the ache in his chest doesn’t go away.

Jin throws himself into his work, making himself busier than usual to avoid thinking about you and your best friend. Other BTS members notice his uncharacteristic silence and try to pry, but he just brushes it off with a laugh.

One day, you sense something’s off. Jin has been distant—short replies, fewer calls, and even declining an invite to hang out. You confront him, worried you might have done something wrong.

Jin doesn’t confess outright but hints at his feelings. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m not important to you,” he says with a sad smile. It’s the first time he’s ever let his guard down like this, and it leaves you speechless. (Obviously)

You spend the next few days reflecting on your friendship with Jin. You start noticing the little things—how he remembers your coffee order, how he texts you to make sure you got home safe, and how he always seems to know when you need cheering up.

The realization hits you like a truck: Jin isn’t just your friend. He’s the constant in your life, the person who makes you feel safe and valued in a way no one else ever has.

The next time you see him, you decide to test the waters by spending the day with just him. Jin is hesitant at first, worried you’re only there out of guilt, but your warmth and attention slowly ease his nerves.

1By the end of the day, you find yourself looking at Jin differently... like your feelings have finally been reciprocated. When he makes a lame joke, you don’t just laugh—you admire the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. When he cooks for you, you realize how much love he’s poured into every detail.

Jin doesn’t push you to admit anything, but the shift between you two is undeniable. It’s in the lingering glances, the subtle touches, and the way he prioritize you in his noised life. Neither of you says it out loud, but for the first time, you feel like you have a chance.

Closure: It ends with hope. Jin doesn’t need grand confessions; your actions are enough to show him you’re starting to see him the way he’s always seen you. And for now, that’s all he needs...

Now that you’ve started seeing him differently, Jin becomes even more attentive. He insists on cooking you meals, saying, A love as great as mine deserves a feast. He also gets flustered when you sneak up behind him in the kitchen, wrapping your arms around him. His ears turn red, but he plays it off with a smug.

Jin loves teasing you about your newfound affection for him. He’ll smirk and you roll your eyes, but your shy smile gives you away every time, and he EATS IT UP.

He’s a natural flirt but doesn’t even realize it half the time 😭 Like when he adjust your necklace, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. It leaves you breathless, and he definitely notices.

He runs his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, but the way his touch lingers on your shoulder or arm feels a little more intentional these days.

Jin doesn’t try to be sexy—it just happens. Like when he’s focused while rolling up his sleeves (I'm sorry but I'm drooling) or wiping his hands on a towel, you catch yourself staring. He notices your lingering gaze, smirks, and says, “Like what you see?” (OF COURSE WE DO!!?!?!!!!!!!!!?!!)

Mornings with Jin are pure fluff. He’s sleepy and cuddly, pulling you back into bed if you try to get up too early. He mumbles, “Five more minutes,” but those minutes turn into hours because he’s so warm and inviting you can’t resist.

Now that he knows you like him, Jin is more physically affectionate. He’ll casually rest his hand on your lower back, tug you closer when crossing the street, or kiss your temple as he passes by. It’s subtle but so Jin coded.

Honestly, nowadays his cocky side is very attractive.

Jin in cozy sweaters is a problem. When he’s lounging at home in a soft, oversized knit, you can’t help but want to curl up next to him. He teases you for staring, but secretly, he loves how smitten you are.

He doesn’t openly flaunt it, but there’s something undeniably attractive about the way he carries himself. Whether it’s his low, rumbling laugh or the way he looks at you across the room, there’s a quiet intensity that leaves you flustered.

Kissing Expert™: Once you’re comfortable, Jin’s kisses go from sweet and soft to take-your-breath-away levels of intense. He’s got this way of cupping your face and pulling you in like he’s waited his whole life for this moment.

Jin being Jin, he’ll occasionally get dramatic about how much he loves you. “I’d battle an army of chickens for you,” he declares one day, and while you laugh at his comment, the sincerity in his eyes makes your heart skip a beat.

Even when he’s being playful or teasing, Jin’s actions always make you feel safe and cherished. Like holding your hand in a crowded place or softly humming a song while you’re together, every little thing he does says, “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

[mfelewzi]

I annoted my volume of The Search, before giving to the library of my town.

ATTENTION: THERE ARE CURSES, VOLGARITY AND OTHER THINGS, IN ITALIAN BUT THERE ARE, SO YOU TAKE THE ADVISES

"La ricerca della mia mammina e di una nuova famigliola con i miei amicissimi, dove finalmente trovo una nuova sorellina! Ah, con quella tizia rompipalle, credo sia mia sorella: forse è malata, ma probabilmente è solo una stronza"

Scene with Ikea/Ikem: "E tu chi cazzo sei? E da quando Ursa è una signorina di campagna?"

"Mi rifiuto di considerare questo imbecille decerebrato il vero Sokka, grazie."

"Ehi, ma sti disegnatori giapponesi sono veggenti: hanno previsto la mia faccia!"

"Bryke: This is Canon! Me: la vostra faccia da culo è Canon!"

"... Ok, questa è una stronzata. E ho capito che Zuko è un po' un idiota, ho capito il conflitto, ma qui si manda letteralmente all'inferno il tema della famiglia e dell'auto-accettazione, ma chi cazzo ha scritto la storia?"

"Ah. Questo sarebbe uno dei buoni. Non poteva, che so, stordirla e basta, no facciamo la scena de Il Re Leone, solo con Zuko al posto di Scar!"

"O guarda, un tizio che recita con la stessa maschera di Ikea/Ikem è sposata con una che recita la parte di Ursa nei flashback, mi chiedo chi siano. E guarda, un'altra perfetta bimba di merda. Ora mi ricordo perché ho mollato LoK al primo episodio."

"Ammazza, che sviluppo del personaggio. Ho capito che Azula non deve diventare amica di Katara, ma perché li fanno parlare come dei bambini di sei anni, e perché nessuno riesce a capire l'altro, dove cavolo è lo sviluppo della storia e dei personaggi? Un hentai ha uno sviluppo narrativo ed una profondità migliore di sta roba qua!"

"Ma guarda che sorpresa. Non l'avrei mai detto."

"Senti Noriko, ti chiamo così perché lo dico subito: mi rifiuto di considerarti Ursa, va bene? Perché qui la tua caratterizzazione, e anche la backstory è stata mandata a farsi fottere! Promemoria: prossima volta mi cerco la versione hentai di AtlA, perché di sicuro ha un intreccio narrativo Migliore di questa merda!"

And if you haven't Google Translate or Reverso:

"The search for my mommy and a new family with my best friends, where I finally find a new little sister! Ah, with that pain in the ass, I think she's my sister: she was sick but maybe she's just a bitch"

Scene with Ikea/Ikem: "And who the fuck are you? And since when is Ursa a country girl?"

"I refuse to consider this brainless imbecile the real Sokka, thank you."

"Hey, these Japanese designers are seers: they predicted my face!"

"Bryke: This is Canon! Me: Your ass faces are Canon!"

"...Okay, this is bullshit. And I get that Zuko is a bit of an idiot, I get the conflict, but this is literally sending the theme of family and self-acceptance to hell, but who the fuck wrote the story?”

"Ah. This would be one of the good ones. He couldn't, I don't know, just stun her, no let's do the scene from The Lion King, only with Zuko instead of Scar!"

"Or look, a guy who acts in the same Ikea/Ikem mask is married to someone who plays Ursa in flashbacks, I wonder who they are. And look, another perfect little shit. Now I remember why I ditched LoK in the first episode."

"Man, what character development. I understand that Azula doesn't have to become friends with Katara, but because they make them talk like six year olds, and because no one can understand the other, where the hell is the development of the story and the characters? Does hentai have better narrative development and depth than this stuff!"

"Look at this surprise. I would never have guessed it."

"Look Noriko, I call you that because I say it right away: I refuse to consider you Ursa, okay? Because here your characterization, and even the backstory has been fucked! Reminder: next time I'll look for the hentai version of AtlA, because it sure has a better narrative plot than this shit!"

I annotated my copy of The Search

Here we go!

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

"Jason was the happy robin" this, "jason was the angry robin" that. Let's all be fully honest here Jason was the lonely robin