#and i did no work at all despite the fact that i even made a list

[itachiiwrites]

𐙚 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄¡!

cw. 18+ flithy smut, Sub!Gojo, Dom!Reader, Enemies to lovers, gojo is a virgin and the word loser is used a lot.

AcademicRival!Satoru believed he'll have a merry time getting paired with you for your upcoming assignment, afterall, you were fun to pick on and he adored the way the vein would pop on your forehead after he says something to completely throw you off the tracks. His plan was to make you do all the work while he gets on your nerves to pass his time.

Satoru prides himself in being jack of all trades, he's the captain of the collegiate basketball team, student body president, has 4.0 GPA in his astrophysics major and is on the dean's list, his stunning good looks were to kill for and to add to those never ending positive attributes he's filthy rich, if it wasn't so obvious by his sports car's raging engine whenever he drifts it around in the campus. Gojo Satoru was a star. Gojo Satoru was game.

Admirers and people lining up for him was no big of a deal, it is the routine when you're him. You're one of the many people who find him fascinating, find him attractive (which was something you would never admit to, even if a ceiling fell over you) but still, why was he shaking his legs underneath the table while he watches the furrow of your brow focused on the screen in his dorm room? He's way too distracted to read this paper about Aesthetics and Marxism—he only took up sociology because it was a humanities requirement within his course and also because he was utterly, out of his mind bored.

Feeling the burning gaze of his abnormally blue eyes, you slam your fist onto the table and anyone who was in their right mind would be able to decipher that your expression was twisted in unfiltered annoyance, the mask of a small, pleasant smile as your veins popped on your forehead was failing miserably. "We could get a lot done if you didn't think this was a staring contest"

"Wow, really? I did think it was a staring contest with how boring all this is" He mocked knowing it would only agitate you further, his eyes shamelessly trailed over the plushness of your thighs and how the skirt fabric sat on top of it, his thoughts were digressing, wondering about the colour of your pant—

"What are you looking at, pervert..?" You point it out to break the unholy chain of his thoughts immediately, his eyes widened by being caught off-guard, evading away to focus on the papers in front of him, lasering his eyes to aim at understand at whatever 'Russian constructivism' meant, his fist gripped the pencil tighter and tighter as he felt unbelievably panicked at being caught, the trance of embarrassment breaking away along with a sharp 'snap' of the pencil.

With a faltering attempt to maintain his cockiness, Satoru looked at you. "Just looking at how much of a loser you look, even broke a pencil because it's annoying how nerdy you dress" a painful roll of his eyes followed by, but his ventures to cover the way he felt were too poor and what was the parameter? The goddamned seductive smile on your pretty lips.

Gojo Satoru was game, but he was a fucking virgin.

"Lying is not going to save your ass, I can literally see the tent in your pants, what are you..a teenager..?" The mockery in your eyes and the superiority you had over him in that very moment was enough to make him let go of his guards and feel his knees buck. You were beautiful and he was so pathetically down bad for that.

"Unlike you, I have many things to excel at..who has time for something as stupid as this anyway" You had to give some kudos for the fact that his voice remained balanced despite the throbbing erection in his pants, and you made a face with slanting pursed lips that was to show him you believed him, although anyone could tell you didn't.

"what is with that face? You think you're better than me? What do you know about sex, having your cute nose burried in those stupid books all day.." And that statement makes you raise your brow, Satoru Gojo, called you cute? This was something, this was when he knew he messed up and you had all the power.

"Why don't I show it to you then? You wanna be a loser in this one area? Come on.. you're better than that, right?" Satoru gulped, the offer was beyond tempting, all those fantasies he ran his mind for while wrapping his hand around his cock in his dark dorm room, relieving himself while yearning for the warmth for your mouth and cunt—finally had the chance to be fleshed out to life. It was tempting indeed but what about his ego?

"Sure, I bet you suck at this too" He huffed a laugh with his faux confidence, only to be miserably proved wrong within a few minutes.

"Please— fuck! Your mouth feels so good.." He breathed heavily with an almost violent rise and fall of his chest, his legs sprawled wide as he was on the couch of his room and you, his beautiful arch-nemesis was skillfully using his cock like it was your personal toy. Satoru didn't feel he was being sucked off for his pleasure, he was being sucked off to be proven of the fact that you were in control here.

He reached his trembling hands to tangle within your locks as you let a thick glob of your spit fall onto his tip with a grin, tantalisingly rubbing it on your glossed lips. "Better than your stupid fist right?" And he moans at that degradation, his eyes marbeling with glassy tears, your pride swelled more than anything.

"Ever seen tits in real life? Or are you that much of a loser to have Inoue Waka as your wallpaper.." You teased further, unbuttoning your blouse and unfastening your bra from the front to spill out your breasts and Satoru's brain simply short circuits the moment the cushiness of your tits gather around his cock and he feels the tightening sting on his abdomen, dripping out loads of his cum onto your tits, painting you like the masterpiece you were with thick ribbons of his ejaculate.

You hum, licking a long strip from his base, swirling your hot tongue around his softening, sensitive frenum as he is limp by the pleasure.

"There's no way you're this good.." He spoke, almost sounding as if something unbelievable happened, almost angry.

"Such a good boy 'Toru.." You giggle in response, kissing his abdomen and he feels pathetically, helplessly in love with you.

Gojo Satoru was game, but you were a roulette.

[cobaltperun]

Jerks With Hearts of Gold - Work For It

Request: Tara Carpenter x Female Reader

Summary: The first kiss should not be this difficult to get, yet nothing is ever easy for Tara Carpenter.

Masterlist / Side story of this request

Word count: 2.7k

She could no longer deny it, she could no longer fight it, and she hated every single thing about it. Except she didn't actually hate it, she absolutely loved it, only she would never admit it, especially to anyone other than herself.

Tara Carpenter was in love with a jerk.

How could this have happened? Sure, she wanted to live her life, set aside everything that's happened while being comfortably cautious about which people she let in, but she did not expect to let the biggest jerk of them all in. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she took it not just a step, but a fucking marathon further by falling in love with you. So, there Tara was, lying on her bed facing the ceiling and glaring at it as if she had your face painted right on it. She might as well have it painted there, because that's all she could see when she closed her eyes. Your smiling face, that stupid grin when you prove her wrong, or when you get the upper hand in a debate, or when you just annoy the living hell out of her.

“Jerk,” she muttered as she looked through window that was somehow facing the direction you were in. Of course, you were far away, too far for her to even see your neighborhood from her window, let alone your apartment, but just the fact that she knew she would be looking in the direction of your apartment if she looked outside her window infuriated her. Why did you have to be so good to her? You stopped smoking just for her, and that really was the true start of her downfall. But you couldn’t stop there, could you? Ever since she opened up about the attacks she survived you've been crazy attentive to everything she was feeling, noticing even the minute details about her mood shifts.

Somehow, despite only knowing you for a relatively short period of time, Tara was absolutely certain you wouldn’t turn out to be a Ghostface. Maybe worse than even that was how sure Tara was that if she confessed and you returned her feelings that the two of you would just stay together. That you would never break her trust or her heart.

And that just made her afraid that one day she would do that to you. Because there was that feeling deep inside of her, that thought that maybe she did ruin everything she touched, and that she just wouldn’t know how to let you love her.

Yet at the same time, Tara knew she wanted that kind of love, that almost unconditional love, more than she wanted anything in the world. So, Tara picked up her phone and sent you a message.

~X~

You were bored beyond what you imagined was humanly possible. You were so bored you might actually consider doing schoolwork that was still far from the deadline. That's how bored you were. You weren't in the mood for a movie or some new TV show or a new book or anything that would reasonably take more than a few hours to finish, but you also weren't in the mood to go out and have fun, or go to a stupid party if Tara wasn’t there, or anything of that nature.

Luckily, just as you were about to lament on your ruined night, your phone rang and you jumped to your feet cheering loudly that there was even a smidge of distraction to be had tonight.

You placed your palms together in front of your face praying to whatever higher being that might exist. “Please be Tara, please be Tara, please let me annoy her tonight!” because you would not be that desperate to actually send the message first. Not after sending the first message four times in a row.

You plucked your phone off your charger and the screen lit up and you pumped your fist at your side. “Yes!” you exclaimed. It was Tara. “Oh, I love this girl!” your eyes widened when you said that.

Well, you did love her, and you knew that, and you knew how you loved her, how much, and how intensely. But you haven't really said it out loud and with that sudden realization the urge to annoy her faded away and you just opened the message she just sent you.

Tara: Let's meet up tomorrow

Please I'm bored

Well, that was direct and right to the point, just the way Tara always was, and you grinned like a fool because you would get to see her tomorrow instead of waiting for the next week's classes. So, you replied with a simple ‘Of course! Usual time usual place?’

It took Tara less than a minute to reply, and you've never thought a simple ‘yes’ would make you this happy.

You walked back to the bed and just fell on top of it, still grinning. You loved this girl. You loved her so damn much and she didn't even know it and maybe, just maybe you could confess tomorrow. Just see how it goes. At least you won't be painfully stuck in friendzone and things would be clear, you would know if you should give up on these feelings or if you would just have to wait for some time until she got more comfortable. You understood perfectly well just how difficult opening up would be for Tara, and all you really wanted was to know if there was even the slightest chance that she might one day reciprocate your feelings.

~X~

She must have done something right lately because all of a sudden and without even considering all of those things Tara ended up being really lucky. First of all, she didn't have classes today, Sam was working, and all of her friends had classes, so no one was free to hang out with her. Not even Chad and he was the most relaxed about classes out of all of them. At least before the exams, once the exams were going then he was the one worrying the most.

That would probably be something you and Chad could bond over. You had the same annoying nonchalant approach before the exams only to completely flip it once exams actually started. She still smiled, because somehow, despite everything, she found that endearing.

The usual spot was your code of sorts, for a small secluded spot in the park that Tara found when she first came to New York, back when she felt the need to escape from everything and pretend she was just a normal teenager. And you came to appreciate the spot as well, so instead of hanging out in a café bar or some other place, one of you would get the drinks and the other some snacks and you just go and sit at the park. And it worked well, because not only was it a nice place where she could breathe easier, but it had designated spots for picnic, so that was just another plus in its own way.

Her heart was hammering in her chest as she walked through the park toward the place where you would meet up. The basket filled with your favorite food felt a lot heavier than it really was. You weren't really a flowers kind of girl, or rather Tara wasn't, she just felt that would be a bit too on the nose and she wants to be a bit subtle about everything. Although… There was nothing subtle about being twenty minutes early.

She picked a good spot for the picnic. The one with a nice shade, far enough from the people walking through the park, and light fresh breeze blowing through her hair bringing in the scent of the flowers blooming in the park.

“Guess we are both early,” Tara jumped when she heard your voice and flipped around to see you standing there sheepishly rubbing the back of your head, all the while holding a bag filled with a couple of bottles of probably juice if she had to guess. You were kind of boring like that, not really consuming alcohol, but she guessed that would make Sam like you more because you weren't some party animal.

“Damn it, you scared me!” Tara put her hand over her chest trying to calm her heart rate down. Getting scared was not one of her plans for the day!

Your eyes widened and immediately she could see the guilt on your face. “I'm sorry! I should have texted you or something, I just didn't want you to rush if you weren't here and-“ you facepalmed, you didn’t forget about anything, you just got eager to see her and she wasn’t expecting you. “God, I'm such a fool for scaring you like that!” there you were being the caring, gentle dumbass she fell in love with.

Tara smiled widely, unable to restrain her reaction. “Hey, it's fine, come on, let's just sit down and start this again, OK? Shit, look at us,” Tara laughed as you joined her, still looking at her apologetically. “We're like two teenagers trying to go on their first date instead of hanging out as friends,” she chastised herself and you to an extent because you were both nervous and she couldn't wrap her head around why you were nervous. She was the one who intended to confess her love for you… unless…

No, that couldn't be right.

The two of you knelt down on the blanket and began taking things out of the bag you brought, and the basket Tara brought. “You really went all out! And it's all homemade!” you commented, and Tara just knew you could see the blush on her face.

You only complimented her cooking, once granted she only cooked for you once, and ever since then has been practicing, wanting to impress you once more.

“I just grabbed the leftovers,” of course she wasn’t going to tell you the truth. She would die of embarrassment if that happened, but you knew, you probably knew every single time she uttered a ridiculous lie just to save face.

You snorted at that. “Of course, of course, I wouldn't dare to imply the great Tara Carpenter would prepare food for an occasion this beneath her,” you laughed and despite the joke you just said something just didn't feel right about it. It annoyed Tara more than she ever imagined it would. She just hated that there was a certain sense of self-deprecation within your voice.

So, Tara reached up, grabbed you by the chin and pulled you closer. “Don't you dare ever think that,” she leaned in, intending to kiss you and get all of this confession bullshit out of the way, and just show you how she felt instead. But then you smirked and pulled away from her and her hand was just left hanging in the air, empty, while her lips remained stuck, slightly pursed as she intended to kiss you.

“Work for it, Carpenter,” you did not just say that. You did not just deny her of the kiss she wanted for so damn long.

“What the fuck?!” Tara just stared. You actually did that to her. “Work for it? How do I- I mean- You know-“ she paused, taking a deep breath. “Was I reading this all wrong,” she gestured between the two of you. “And you actually don’t feel the same way? Y/N, I can take it if you don't feel the same way, I'm not some-“

You interrupted her by placing the tip of your finger on her lips and snickering and now she was just confused. “I do feel the same way, I love you too, Tara,” you said it so easily even if she didn't, even if she wasn't all that sure she could say those three words anytime soon, despite how genuinely she felt them. “I just want you to work for the kiss. You've been a pain in my eyes for so long, I deserve this!” you laughed and took a bite of the sandwich she so carefully prepared, choosing all the ingredients you loved, and here you were saying she had to work for the kiss.

“What do you even mean by work? How?! Tell me how?!” she demanded red in the face from the anger and the embarrassment and because she was denied of what she wanted and like a petulant child that was suddenly rejected she was just about ready to throw a tantrum.

And that wasn't like her. She was denied so many things as a child, it wasn't in her nature to throw a temper tantrum, yet with you she really felt like that. She felt like the way you were loving her, even when you were just friends, was allowing that child within her to come out for perhaps the first time in her entire life.

“Ask for it, you can’t just take it,” you winked at her. “Come on, now, Tara, all you have to do is ask,” oh, you were enjoying this. You got your victory. You knew she felt the same way that you did before you even uttered a single word and here you were eating it all up like the menace you were.

“I'm just not gonna do it,” Tara pouted and refused to look at you even if she knew you would just shrug and keep eating the sandwich.

“Whatever works for you,” you were being way too nonchalant about this and she should have been elated that you felt the same way that she did, but this was infuriating in so many ways. Of course it had to be like this with you it couldn't be just an easy, simple confession, followed by a soft kiss, followed by a passionate kiss that would threaten to consume both of you. No, it had to be this complicated and difficult because that's who you were and that's who she was. She was Tara fucking Carpenter and every single thing in her life just had to be complicated.

Well not this time.

“Let me kiss you,” she leaned in and you burst out laughing backing away once more not allowing her to claim her reward.

“That's not how you ask, dumbass,” you just laughed and sure, fine, she could play that game too.

“I want to kiss you,” you were still leaning away and she faked a smile, speaking through gritted teeth. “Come on, Y/N, people are watching. They're looking at me leaning closer to you and you are not working with me here,” she was working hard for it and she had the right to her hard-earned reward.

“Not the magic word, Tara,” surely you weren't going to make her actually ask for it! You loved her back, why was this so complicated! She even licked her lips to tempt you, and she saw you looking down on her lips, she knew you wanted to kiss her as well! You just weren't giving in.

Fuck…

“Please, can I kiss you?” there. She asked. You smiled and didn't back away as she leaned in and that was all she needed to just go in and press her lips against yours for a heated, passionate kiss. And when she pulled back, she truly was rewarded by getting to see you being a stuttering, embarrassed mess. “Cat got your tongue?” she asked and stuck her own tongue at you, the tongue that was mere seconds ago inside of your mouth because of course she couldn't go for a soft kiss for the very first kiss. She had to be intense with everything that's included.

Especially with this because you deserved to be loved just as intensely as you loved her.

Safe to say you failed to construct a proper sentence for the next twenty or so minutes. Frankly she was impressed it only took you that long to get your composure back and actually start putting words together in a way that made sense.

[nylwnder]

little secret

a/n: hiiiiii bbs, sorry for the long gaps between fic drops for this series, life hates me and sometimes i just dont have the time to write </////3 or the motivation which is worse. waahhhh!!! HOWEVER, i was gifted some free time the past month, and because i love you guys so so much, i birth to you all: my first am34 fic <333333

pairing: auston matthews x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT! sex toys (lush toy), edging, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, overstimulation, cockwarming, swearing, auston being in loveeeeee, secret relationship, confession of feelings

word count: 3.4k

taglist: @shoot-the-puck , @11livpangburn , @eastoncowan , @boqvistsbabe , @sweetiet , @p1tstop , @occasionallyaurora , @laurenairay , @fallinallincurls , @andrea9 , @dylpickle4791 , @biznastysloneshift12 , @dramatic-queen

series masterpost

the vibrating feeling in between your thighs made you grip the edge of the counter top, almost dropping your drink. a moan escaped your throat as the pressure increased, your legs bucking before you felt yourself coming close to the edge.

“please please oh please” you mumble quietly but then the vibrations disappear all together again. you take a deep breath with a little whine.

you walk back to the couch, setting your small snack on the coffee table. watching as the leafs began to make it back out to the ice for the third period. knowing the teasing would take a break for the rest of the game unless he so happened to have his phone on the bench too.

—

it all started with a birthday present. a more mischievous gift for a relationship that's just freshly bloomed in the last few months. but your relationship is open and free and gratifying like that.

it was a small, curvy, hot pink toy. one that has devilish capabilities with the mere connection to a phone app. auston knew you would love it, and you also knew he would use the toy to its fullest potential—edging and overstimulating your folds as much as he can. and you do in fact love it, so it isn't surprising that you obliged when he handed it to you this afternoon. a mischievous grin on his face.

“need you to put this on for me, baby” he mentions gently, handing you the toy.

you take it in your palm, already imagining the impending feeling between your thighs. “when would you play with me though?” you ask, pondering the thought on how he’d manage in front of the team, nevermind the coaching crew.

he grins again, “i'll find a way. just need you to be a good girl and keep it in until i come home okay?”

you nod, biting your lip.

“i'll be nice, i promise” he mentions with a kiss to your cheek before a kiss to your lips.

—

unless his idea of nice was having you edged every single fucking time his finger began to play with the controls of the toy, then he was in fact nice. you were flustered, frustrated, being edged to reach any sort of release. you squirmed and whined as it tickled the bundle of nerves inside of you again as the team prepared for press. ready to discuss the well earned blowout win against the ducks, and the sixth hattrick of the season for auston.

you couldn’t deny it, auston looked so good out there on the ice—working the puck around bodies like nothing. and it made your heart swell that during the intermissions he couldn’t help but take the time and think of you, play with you, but oh did you want him home. in your arms so he can do you right.

you weren't even sure if you were overstimulated, even though he's been playing with you on-and-off for the past three hours and a half, you just wanted to cum. and oh god please on his cock.

—

auston kept his interview short and sweet, wanting to make it home earlier than usual despite the attention and requests regarding another outstanding performance. he wanted to get home to you.

the boys noticed his eagerness to skim through the usual routine, poking around and asking him if he's got a girl waiting at home. he gave a low smile, not discussing further than that. they didn't know about you yet. nobody knew.

being your boyfriend, he wasn't thrilled about the public eye getting a glimpse of you just yet. sure, he wants to take you out to a fancy dinner, hold your hand while you're walking home from the movies. of course he would want to show you off to the boys just so they can chirp him about how he landed you. but you were too special. too soft, kind and sweet. too perfect, he thought. he didn't want anyone to say otherwise, anyone to try to ruin you. the day will come when they know your name, sure. yet even when the moment arrives, when everyone finally lays eyes on you, he knows he’ll still be a protective force. always. if that means you’re his little secret for now, then so be it.

right now, you were all his. without anyone knowing. his warm soul. his dripping core. the one that he wants… no. he needs. right now. so badly.

—

when he got home his belongings were quickly discarded to the side. auston relishing in the warm and soothing atmosphere you have created out of his apartment, his senses welcomed by the sweet smell of you. the house always felt empty those nights you couldn’t be with him. your presence had brought a light to the home that it never had, that none of the other flings managed to spark.

he noticed your lounge pants laying near the couch in the living room. your slippers discarded on the other side. he moved forward to grab them, but placed it back down when he noticed your shirt near the entrance of the bedroom. a smile grew on his face.

a few steps forward granted him a beautiful view—his favourite view—the sole reason why he rushed through the toronto night traffic.

you sat at the edge of your bed in a satin lingerie slip. your hair was messy in that pretty way that framed your face, the way that made aus bite his lip in admiration. your lips softly pouted a “missed you.”

your legs slowly opened apart, showing your arousal from the night sopping through the fabric of your underwear. auston gave a low groan, and licked his lips.

“need you. so bad.” you whine.

he walks towards you, and you instantly wrap your legs around him to connect your lips. his grip on your hips yanks you higher onto the bed, allotting him space to get on and tower over you. you nip on his lip as you both break for air.

“you were mean” you murmur. he smirked, “i promised you i'd be nice, that's why i'm gonna make her feel so much better” he says, cupping your dripping core.

you whimper, “please”

his fingers hook on your panties, pulling them down and throwing them to the side. he reaches for the tail of the lush toy, making sure to gently pull the rest of it out. you squirmed at the emptiness, aus seeing the way your entrance clenched around nothing.

“you did s’good, baby. taking it like a good girl” he mutters in your ear as his lips attach to your neck. his wet kisses mixed with his nipping move down to your collarbone, then to the tops of your breasts.

he makes sure to keep his work up until he knows purple and red marks will litter your skin in a couple of hours. making it difficult for you to hide them everytime you leave his apartment. god forbid your friends see them. you're not in the mood to be forced to disclose any more details about your boyfriend. you just wanna keep living in this little bubble the two of you have managed to keep.

not yet. just a little longer.

“mmm, you looked so good out there baby” you manage to mutter. trying your best to not get lost in his kisses but sometimes it's just too hard.

you can feel his smile against your skin. “thank you” he says, kissing on top of his mouth’s handiwork before grabbing you by the hips and bringing you to sit down on his lap.

“your sixth hattrick. not everyone can do that” you speak again, smiling, running your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck.

his smile didn't leave his face, leaning in to kiss you tenderly. “…nevermind the fact that this was your second back-to-back hatty” you say against his lips.

this time he begins to blush, in what you think is quite literally the most beautiful way possible. you can't help but to kiss him again. he looks down while squeezing your hips before looking back up and letting out a light chuckle. “we gonna keep talking about it or are you going to let me celebrate with you? hm?”

it's your turn to flush a bit. embarrassed you may have been discussing something in a situation where you shouldn’t even be talking in the first place. but you couldn't help it, you wanted to give him all the possible affirmations you could.

“m’sorry” you reply, wrapping your arms tighter around his frame, endeavouring in the taste of his mouth once again. you can feel the mint from the gum he was chewing on the drive back home. it relaxes you.

one of his hands stays pressed on your spine, scrunching the material of your night slip between his fingers, while his other hand travels down. his large palm shamelessly grabbing your ass, moulding your flesh to the shape of his fingers. your skin quickly heats up again and your mind swirls over the rhythm of his tongue against yours and the bulge growing beneath you. aus presses you down, hard, against his clothed lap, it feels like he's already fucking you. but it's the illusion of his fingers bluntly sliding between your folds and pressing over your opening, stirring a good moan out of you.

he sticks in a finger and you subconsciously bite down on his lip. he hums before sticking in another and you accidentally do the same thing again. there's a burning feeling between your thighs, perhaps you are overstimulated after all. but that's not stopping you. you still want him to help you to that finish line that he so cruelly didn't let you reach.

he pumps in and out a bit, making sure you’re wet enough. that was surely a fact, with the way your juices covered his fingers so exceedingly. anticipation continued to build inside of auston, causing the bulge between his thighs to strain against his dress pants. hes been thinking about you the whole night, and your pussy even more.

you untug auston’s shirt, allowing you to unbutton his pants. he helps you pull them off of his legs, while you take off his shirt from his sculpted chest. you run your fingers down his torso, following the lines that shape him. his lips connect to your neck, immediately finding your pulse point. you grind down on him and he allows a groan to escape his lips and echo in your ear. you smile.

“can i take this off?” he asks, tugging at your slip.

you nod needily, the cold air hardening your nipples at the exposure. auston can't help but groan again, yanking you up so he can attach his lips to them. you whine sharply, feeling the tip of his cock nudging near your entrance as well.

he releases your one nipple with a “pop”, sinking you down on his length before you can even make out a sound.

“m’fuck” you mumble, your body ablaze.

“god you’re truly the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen” he says. holding your hips back to get a good look at you.

“auston…” you whine at him, blood rushing to your cheeks again in slight shyness. however your walls clench around him.

“let me compliment you.” he laughed, helping your hips sway against his lap. left, right, up and down, it all felt exactly how you wanted. perfect.

your cunt was soaking wet. the sounds the two of you make where your bodies connect is unholy. auston’s fingers have a tight grip on your love handles, trying his best to keep himself together for you. he chose to focus on littering whatever skin he can reach with more marks, making sure you remember you’re his when you wake up tomorrow morning.

with all the emotions and sensations it truly doesn't take you long to feel the addictive feeling deep in your stomach again. eyes fluttering shut, mewls escaping your pink plump lips, boobs swaying gracefully with your movements, it's like a scene out of a dream the way your walls have a snug grip on auston’s cock. shes perfect, he notes to himself.

he holds you close to him, before moving you to lay down on the bed. he pushes his hands under your thighs and lifts your hips. the position slides him even deeper. makes his cock push up into you, into that spongy part inside that forces your eyes to roll back even more. your thighs begin to tremble.

“take me so good baby, s’like you were made for me.”

“i am.” you respond, because he’s made you honest. in the delirium of him, you’re saying what you’ve had buried inside of you for the past months, waiting for moments like this. with the way he makes you feel it's impossible not to think this way. my god, you’re sure you love him.

with your breathing heavy, recovering from your high, auston groans against your lips––pumping himself into you like a man fueled by pure hunger. the warmth of his cum spilling into you makes you all the more lightheaded.

you grip at the nape of auston’s neck, bringing him in for a kiss. both of your lips already hot pink and puffy. but the need to ground each other is so strong.

the euphoric feeling of relief from your earlier pent up frustration begins to make your body soften. your head felt more vulnerable and you couldn't suppress the words any further. “aus..” you say, kissing his lips before looking him in the eyes. he gives out a small hum in acknowledgment.

“i-i love you. i really do.” your hands squeeze the ends of his hair in anticipation of his response.

did you know that a 6’3, beefy, sassy hockey player can feel butterflies? cause auston is pretty sure he just did. a smile crept up from the corners of his mouth and overtook his entire demeanour. you couldn’t help but reciprocate it.

“yeah?” he asks softly.

you nod, auston’s hands moving to drop your legs and grip your sides instead.

“i love you too, baby.” why wouldn't i? you're too good to be true.

a feeling of bliss overtakes your body. pent up emotions finally all out on the table. its been a lovely set of months now and perhaps you both are ready for that next step.

both of his hands interlock with yours, moving your arms up and over your head. the grip is snug and safe. you can picture holding hands in the cold weather, his palm big and warm enough that you don't need mittens like you used to.

his lips meet yours in a slow gentle kiss. your cheeks blush at the thought of kissing auston straight from the locker room, or his lips leaving a peck on your forehead as you two wait for a table at a restaurant.

the little things.

a whimper leaves your lips, an angelic sound, and an unconscious reaction to auston’s kisses. you can feel auston twitch inside you. so in response, you rock your hips upwards.

“there she is,” he smirks down at you, “there’s my fucking dirty girl.” he notes the dreamy glint in your eye, “you want some more, huh?” you bite your lip, nodding. auston pulls out, just for a moment and your pussy aches at the cruel feeling of emptiness.

kneeling in front of you, aus guides you to turn to your side, straddling one of your legs and grabbing the other one to curl around his side. he aligns himself to your entrance and pushes in without hesitation, already missing the warmth of your wet walls. he continues with his sharp thrusts, one of his hands moving to play with your breasts, rolling your nipples in between his fingers. moans fill the space in the room, and slips of his name fill in the gaps.

the stimulation you feel is so fucking good, for lack of better terms. in contrast to his earlier teases, his thrusts don’t seem to stop anytime soon and you couldn't be any more grateful. your cunt clenching around him so tight that auston hisses, groaning deeply. he shakes his head as if he can’t believe it.

“you’re fucking purring angel, like i didn’t just cum on your pretty pussy. what am i gonna do with you, huh?”

his words make you cry, looking up at him with doe eyes, urging him to bring you to that beautiful edge. “fuck dontstop–so close–so close–” you mumble out quickly. searching for his hand laying on top of your breasts, you tangle your fingers around his again, he squeezes them lovingly. your cheeks fill with a blush tint.

“didn’t plan on it, baby.” he says, making his other hand move to your clit, pressing to rub circles around it, then triangles and then squares and then fucking diamonds. god you didn’t know you just wanted him to keep going and drive you through that burning feeling inside of you.

and so he does, eliciting more sounds from your soft lips along with shivers down your body. he whispers to you how beautiful you are in your ear, while he cums in your sweet cunt once again. you’ll never get over that feeling.

auston grabs you close as he flips the two of you, allowing him to lay down on the pillows, your body sprawled on top of him. his cock still snug in you. you softly hum, this position letting both of you settle down from your shared highs. aus feels your smell calm him, the faint scent of your floral shampoo steadying his breathing, his heartbeat relaxed. he has never felt so safe, so comfortable.

he didn’t want you to move, not even dare to leave this warmth the two of you have created. he's used to getting up after a sexual endeavour like such, two people going their separate ways, hell he's even urgently guided girls out the door. but you? never. if he could keep you here, with him–just him–forever, he would.

you felt auston slowly get soft inside you, and you took that as a queue to take a quick trip to the bathroom to clean yourself up. trying to detach yourself from the soft and gentle embrace of your boyfriend was hard, you didn't want to leave him.

“where are you going?” auston asks, grabbing your waist as you sit up from his chest.

“just the bathroom.” you mention, getting further up and feeling him slip out of you. you let out a small instinctive whimper to the loss. you notice the pout in his eyes, “i’ll only be a minute, don't worry.”

auston was hesitant to let go of your hand, missing the soft feeling contrasted to his rough hands, despite the fact they aren't as calloused as they could be. you smiled at his clinginess, it truly was a compliment. you got up and swiftly made your way to the bathroom mats, as the cold floor sent a quiver up your body. after cleaning yourself up you looked at yourself in the mirror while you washed your hands. you could see the love marks appearing around your breasts, not an uncommon place to find them. aus makes sure to leave new ones each time they start fading.

you make your way back to the bed, seeing auston settled in the sheets. he looks at you with genuinity. a twinkle in his eye. love pouring out of his tender gaze. your skin grows hot. you smile and drop your head to his shoulder once you reach him. “you should see the look on your face”

“what?” he asks curiously.

you look up at him, after wrapping your legs around his own. “you look absolutely smitten.”

he smiles. “good.” he exclaims. proud.

you are quick to get soothed back into his pool of warmth, along with his hand running against your back. here and there reaching the top of your bum, before making its way back up.

you think about your shared confession from earlier. the weight of those immense feelings towering over the two of you gone. all the opportunities and possibilities at your fingertips. “so when do you think i’ll get one of those cute playoff jackets the wives and girlfriends get?”

“you want one?” auston asks, you can hear the smile in his words, if you chose to lift your head you would probably see the smirk too.

“yeah,” you reply, playing with the fingers on his other hand. “i want to be at every game.”

“i’ll make sure you’re the first to get yours then.” you now chose to look up at him, your own happiness radiating across your face. “promise?” you ask, lightly giggling.

“promise.”

“good.”

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[irrelevantwriter]

Empress

Pairing: Emperor Geta (Gladiator 2) x Female Reader/You

Warnings: SFW, Ancient Rome type shit

Word Count: 1345

Summary: Part 1. The Empress of Rome pushes her husband a little too far.

A/N: I...I don't know what to say honestly. I'm just as confused by this red-headed slut as some of you are. But here we are. So let's enjoy shall we? Because life be life-ing and I need a distraction. I obviously took liberties with ancient Rome. Let me live. There is a part two with lots of smut so get ready besties. Feedback is that good shit.💗

*Read Part Two here

*Masterlist

***********************

You hummed softly to yourself, at peace now that you’d dismissed your maidens. You worked in harmony with yourself, the movements almost convincing yourself you were anywhere else other than Palatine Hill. 

Despite your position, you tended to your own bed linens. The Emperor had admonished you many times before, but you failed to care. 

The tasks you so often liked to keep yourself busy with were seen below your station. An insult to the royal position you held. And yet, for you, they reminded you of a simpler time. They reminded you of home. Of being a young girl not yet soured by what lay beyond her village walls. 

The sentiment made your chest tighten. Today was a day that you longed for that life. You missed your family. You missed flying freely. 

You may be the Empress of Rome, but travertine and marble were still molded to be your cage. An inescapable prison. 

Soft footsteps found your ears as you delicately smoothed the freshly washed bedding to your likeness. Scents of jasmine and lavender permeated the air. They were some of your favorite scents. Something only your husband knew. He’d asked not long after you’d married. He’d made it his duty to ensure those scents followed you everywhere. Even in your dreams. 

“Augusta…” 

His voice floated through the doorway, a hint of disappointment in your title. 

A reminder.

You straightened to face him, bowing your head to show respect. 

“Must I keep reminding you of your place?” 

You sensed him moving closer, his ringed hand extending to tilt your chin. Your eyes met his; depthless pools of darkness. Some days you could see streaks of gold in them from the sun’s rays. Those days were your favorites. Other days they were bottomless. Reminding you of a snake pit. Those were your least favorite.

Today was the latter. 

“I have my reasons, Augustus. Forgive me.”

He chuckled, very aware of your reasons for disobeying him time and time again. 

His hand cupped your cheek, the cool metal of his rings making you flinch. You met his eyes at his prompting. His jaw was clenched, the muscle giving away just how displeased he was with you.

“You are lucky you’re so beautiful, my love. A lesser person would have their tongue cut out.”

You knew. Of course you knew. You did it anyway. 

“A lesser person doesn’t have the heart of the Emperor of Rome.”

Geta hissed, and just as quick as a snake lying in wait, he struck. His hand encircled your throat, squeezing just enough. 

You grasped at his wrist, understanding the game he wanted to play. It was why he kept you. 

In public you were the epitome of grace and devotion. Rome adored you. Your husband adored you. You were dutiful. Well-spoken and a sight to behold. You had everyone’s hearts. Geta knew that. And so did you. 

Behind closed doors, you did as you pleased most days. You went against your husband’s orders, though you never put your own life at risk. You were not so foolish to do so. At least not outside the palace. 

The Emperor was well and truly a spoiled brat. You were not. You liked to remind him of that fact often. And with pleasure. He claimed he hated it. But you saw the fire in his eyes. It was that elusive look he’d get only with you. Swirling embers of flames that mixed in his too dark eyes. 

Lust.

“You forget your role, wife,” he spat between clenched teeth, fingers tightening around your neck. 

“I forget nothing, husband. Least of all what my role is,” you retorted, seeing his gaze shift from your eyes to your lips. Stained with berry juice and sweetened with wine. 

He wanted a taste. 

Geta smirked, loosening his hold. But he did not release you. Instead, he brought you closer, fingers now exploring the hollows of your collarbone. In the confines of your chambers you were more exposed than you would be otherwise. He feasted on the sight. 

He dragged his jeweled fingers across your skin, enjoying the goosebumps that arose in their wake. He touched the royal broach at your shoulder. You shivered. 

“I continue to show you grace and you continue to disrespect your emperor. Have I provided you with such a horrid life? Do the pleasures of my empire displease you?”

His eyes narrowed, his fingers shadowing over your bosom. There were traces of coal around his eyes, making him look that much more sinister. 

But not to you. 

His power frightened you, but the man himself did not. He forgot what kind of life his empire made for its people outside the city. You’d seen the worst of what Roman royalty could do. You’d experienced it firsthand. A man dressed in gold was hardly a sight to run away from. Threat or not.

“Have you gone mute?”

He interrupted your musings, seemingly pleased to have rendered you silent. 

You smiled in return, daring to let your own hand touch upon him. He didn’t stop you, though he watched you with careful eyes. You traced his lips, feeling his breath quicken. You may not be afraid of Geta, but he was surely afraid of you. 

“You have taken a jungle cat and chained her to your side, Augustus. Does that not seem cruel?” You whispered, the space between you both getting smaller as you stepped forward. 

“Is it wrong that I long for my own creature comforts? However lowly they are to you. Is it wrong that I wish to roam freely? To love freely?”

“Love freely?” He cut in, scoffing at the notion. “You do not love freely here? Do not love your emperor?”

His words took on a more threatening tone as he twisted your words. He cupped your cheek, keeping you in his grip. 

“You misunderstand me,” you started, leaning into his touch. You turned your head and kissed his palm, feeling him relax. You reached for his other hand, placing it at your hip, a taboo touch, even between husband and wife. “To love freely means to give myself to you. You have taken. I have never given. To have a woman give herself to you is a magic no mortal man could withstand.”

“Enchantress,” he accused, though weakly. 

“No, my love. Empress.” 

You softly kissed his fingertips. Fingers that had never seen a hard day's work. Or blood on a battlefield. Or the blissful task of pleasing a woman. He, like most men, only sought their own. And as a dutiful wife, you provided. But the hunger, that stayed with you. And it burned as hot as the depths of Hades. 

“You speak of sorcery. That’s punishable by death,” he rasped. 

“Are you so afraid that you do not wish to seek what I speak of?”

Geta’s jaw once again clenched, the muscles in his neck straining. He did not like to be patronized. 

“You dare make me out to be a fool?”

“I’m offering you the chance to experience what only few men know. The body is not sorcery, Augustus.”

He stared at you for a long moment, searching your face for…something. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he jerked his hand away and stepped back. Air filled the once tight space between you both. 

“You infuriate me!” He exclaimed, hands making a mess of his fiery curls. 

“That is not my intention.”

He stepped to you again, breathing hard and heavy. “It would be wise for you to stop speaking out of turn, wife.” 

You did as he commanded, knowing you had stoked the flames too much. 

“Tonight…you are to come to my chambers. I will deal with you accordingly,” he ordered, chest rising and falling with his breaths. His eyes looked upon you, studying your form, almost seeing through your garments.

“Yes, Augustus.” 

“And wife?”

A pause.

You met his gaze.

“I will not show mercy. If the jungle cat wishes to be freed, she must be broken. Understand?”

You nodded. 

He left without another word. 

Part Two

[monamipencil]

ok wow, took me 4 hours to read and annotate this.

i love LOVE the banner, it rly like set the mood of the story and i love your editing skills !!

whoops, this is long.

— plot; easily my most fav wonwoo fic. oh god, i was from the moment you announced in front of me was in the works. angsty fic with best friend wonwoo, i was SOLD. plus unrequited love? pining? realistic characters? yes. the angstiest piece written so beautifully and done with so much effort. and this hits way too close to home. i literally felt called out at multiple points of reading. i just love how realistic and gut wrenching this is.

— oc; she's an idiot, i love her. honestly, i feel like she's me lmao. everything from pining like an idiot to the buzzfeed unsolved and aot, man. she's so well sculptured in a way her characterization is realistic. her sensitivity, the willingness to let him walk over her like that, pining, naivety, accepting him no matter what. fucking hell, she wasn't even angry at last, just so tired and soft with her wordings, only breaking down by the very end. she needed a push to take a stand for herself and i'm so glad she did!

— wonwoo; *sighs* the very introduction and he was already being a dick. but goddamn the fact he's genuinely oblivious to it? when i was expecting toxic bsf! wonwoo, i didnt expect him to be a cardboard cut-out of he-who-shall-not-be-named. ig every girl has stumbled across these type of guys. it would've been so easier to hate by just seeing the story from his pov. but introducing his thoughts and views made me fee pity for him. bcz yeah, he's human too and as much as he's despicable, i understand him. a true gray character. his feelings were so complex. the string of relationships that never worked out were so bitter to read about, him ghosting her yet always crawling back, the uncertainty when she started ignoring him, the jealousy, the anger. his character was so raw and human. as much as i feel sympathy for him, sometimes leaving ppl like this behind is the best answer.

— seokmin; ok, i was so enamored by this guy, that i completely overlooked the fact that he could have bad intentions. like?? if you read thru my annotations, i genuinely liked him? even when wonwoo said he knew what he was doing, i thought wonwoo was being stupid. ... until i heard it straight from seokmin. man, the twist? i was so shocked, i dont even know what's gonna happen lmao. this is crazy.

— the friends; i love them from what we've seen of them. the scene with gyu giving him a reality check? fuck yes, you need friends like that. not only was he looking out for her, he was looking out for him too. i loved it!

— annotations;

Your phone beeps indicating that he’s hung up and you can feel the heartstrings pull inside your chest. How many times will it take for Wonwoo to find someone he actually wants to be with? And why is it never you? 

the angst is already hitting omfgggg

and the prologue feels like the opening to a movie, i love it so much.

“Wait, what? You and Wonwoo aren’t dating?” Seungcheol asks you, forcing you into the hot seat. 

asking the real questions here

Looking over at Wonwoo, you anxiously wait for his answer, your chest blooming with hope, only for those buds to be washed away in a millisecond. 

nooo, but also yesss for the slowburn

“No, c’mon, we’re just friends. That’s it, right?” Wonwoo turns to you, trying to get you to back him up. 

that hurts..

But you sit there, with your heart crushed in your hands, lifeless and shrivelled. Like his words and actions had the power to tear the life out of you. The worst part was that he did all this without knowing. He’s completely oblivious to your feelings, and you only have yourself to blame.

this is already hitting omfg 

He becomes more detached when he’s in a relationship, and you’re okay with that. His priorities change and you’re okay with that. Despite your feelings for him, you know that you can’t force him to feel the same way. And you should be okay with that. 

ow ow ow, ok. 

but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less to see the person you’re in love with, fall in love with someone else. 

🙁 angst is angsting

Having Seungcheol confirm that Wonwoo has never felt anything romantically for you was like a stab in the stomach, and him getting you to back up his words was just him twisting the knife. 

reading this while im on my periods is gonna punch me in the gut

“It’s alright,” he coos, pulling you into his strong arms.  

🧍not me serving lanes with seokmin lmao

You have all these examples of why he would probably be the worst boyfriend ever, yet your heart still belongs to him.

been there, done that. i am guilty your honor

You were hoping that he would go, even looking forward to it. Is that pathetic? To want to see him everywhere you go? Maybe you were pathetic to the point where you only felt like hanging out with your friends if he was there. 

she’s down bad and attached af but I UNDERSTAND RAHH 

He sighs as he sinks into the plush cushions, spreading his legs while he puts his arms up.

🧍… i giggled 

Wonwoo’s arm circles your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and forcing your head to rest delicately on his broad shoulder.

RAHHHHHHHH 🦅

“Of course, what are best friends for?” 

ofc ofc … best friends …

Most people fall in love gradually, slowly growing feelings for the person before they can even call it love. Like the way the seasons steadily turned from winter to spring. Green grass peeking from underneath the melting snow, or flowers gently blooming and unravelling their new set of stems and petals. For you, it was different.

this was so beautiful, i just had to point it out. Anna’s writing >>>>

If anything, falling in love with Wonwoo felt like a snowstorm in the middle of a sunny day.

alexa play, snow on the beach (anna’s version)

He was the shy, scrawny new kid in your class, and no one paid mind to him except you.

fuck, i feel called out

Despite his interest in collecting pokémon cards and his crooked glasses that were too big for his face, you were in love. 

is this about me?

You were like two peas in a pod that whole year, and the only time you and Wonwoo spent time apart was when he had to leave during summer break to visit family in Korea. 

this fucking play is abt me

It annoyed you to see all these people suddenly interested in him. You were angry that just because he grew a few inches and learned to do his hair didn’t mean he was that much different from how he was last year. 

oh fucking hell, anna are you perhaps stalking me??? im having flashbacks

He started to invest more of his time into her until he decided she wasn’t worth his energy anymore. Then the calls would come, his contact name flashing across your phone screen to ask you for advice. 

wonwoo bro, what is this behaviour

Everything that you weren’t.

fuck, ok that hurts (i refuse to cry so early)

Others may have tried to rationalize with Wonwoo, but you didn’t care. You wanted your friendship with him to turn back to normal. Your adolescent brain ignored that it was wrong to encourage him, as long as he was fully yours again.

ik normally ppl would hate this, so do i. but been there, done that… not proud of it

Like a siren to a sailor, your heart sang with deep imagery. Filling your thoughts with illusions of you and Wonwoo finally together. But your mind doesn’t let you go without a fight. It knows that beyond the deep waters where your siren-voiced heart lies is nothing but a bottomless pit.  The possibilities are endless, and you’d rather stay safely grounded in your boat of rationality. 

your imagery ???? holy shit, i never thought of the siren metaphor in this way. anna, ur brain >>

“It's never a problem if it’s you,” he chuckles as you dawdle over to the passenger side of his car. 

🧍*sighs* pls dont tell me he’s gonna talk like this the entire time. Wtf jeon wonwoo

Watching Wonwoo move to the side as he opens the car door for you. His actions make you blush, and you know you’ll think about it for the rest of the night. 

listen, this is gonna be difficult if he's gonna keep acting like this

His fingers would probably be laced with yours, or rubbing soothingly against your thigh while his other hand gripped the steering wheel. Planting kisses on your cheeks at every red light. It seemed like heaven on the other side. But you knew reality would crush your delusions soon enough. 

Delulu is the solulu (in fiction)

The only thing that mattered to you was the fact that she was able to bring out Wonwoo’s deep laugh. The kind of laugh that only befalls upon your ears when he finds something genuinely funny.

oh here comes the jealousy.

At this point, you weren’t sure who to envy, Wonwoo or the girl he was flirting with. You find it unfair that he doesn’t realize how greatly he can impact your feelings. 

asdfghjkl, jealousy is one ugly demon. I hate it

Everything just seemed so unfair, how could you possibly be happy if your feelings for Wonwoo were constantly in the way of it all? It’s tiring, worrying about him, yearning for him. You could do so many other things with your time, and when you look toward the future, you know that you’ll regret how much of your life you wasted loving someone who doesn’t love you back. 

another hit in the gut, it seems so important at that time but looking back, nope.

“Hey, look at me–” he grabs your face, gentle as a mouse, rubbing away the tears from your cheeks. “You are not a burden. We care, that’s why we worry, and I just want to be there for you.” 

🥺🥹 friends like this >>>

Seokmin is like your favourite childhood blanket, keeping you warm and away from everything that could possibly hurt you. He’s always willing to hear you rant about things that you know you could never tell Wonwoo. 

i need a seokmin in my life rn

Jihoon groans as Soonyoung practically breaks out into full song and dance, causing you to sing along with him.

lmao, i love soonyoung 

huhu, im so READY for wonwoo’s pov

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo.

I screamed when i saw this, FROM THE TEASER ASDFGHHJKL

He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 

wow, try being her for a sec, my guy

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care.

10 points for self awareness!!

Because in his mind, you’re his best friend.

I folded so fucking fast, im not immune to possessiveness

[wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u. 

i am not immune to jeon wonwoo

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he has witnessed. 

yes yes YES, he’s jelly 

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he could keep you safe.

i love his complexity. the most perfectly gray character, like any other human being. I love your characterisation of him so much!!

That hadn’t been the case at all, and for the two months that he spent in Changwon, he couldn’t help but count the days till he could come back home. Where you had been patiently waiting for him.  He despised being away from you, and he had yearned for you every moment he was gone.

Awww, this is cute but knowing how’s he gonna act in the future ….

“You know, you’re still so skinny for your age. Do your parents not feed you enough?” 

i hate these typa relatives ??? like bro LOOK AT URSELF

Faintly recalling how you were planning to stay up late every night to watch BuzzFeed unsolved videos, or until your mom yelled at you to go to bed. 

AHHH, ANNA U AND ME, WE ARE THE SAME PERSON omg i love buzzfeed unsolved. 

Wonwoo missed you, and your stupid obsession with horror podcasts and YouTube shows. He missed the way your smile would shine so bright as you talked about all the haunted places the hosts would visit. 

fuck this reminds me of him. anna, you stalker 

And it was then that Wonwoo realized that he wasn’t all that bad-looking, after all. 

no fuck, everything reminds me of him wtf

He remembers thinking about how soft her hands were, and how pretty she looked with her hair tied up in a messy bun. 

🧍u have a girl waiting for u back at home but i wont blame him

By the end of summer, Wonwoo started to miss you less and less.

…… this hurts

Finally, for the first time in his life, Wonwoo felt serene, and that made him a little more whole than he was when he first landed in Changwon. 

but i am happy for him. It’s important to not base ur happiness on someone else !!

On a subconscious level, Wonwoo could not stop comparing Haein to you, and as fucked up as that was, it was completely out of his control. 

uh…. Wonwoo ??

“It all makes sense now! Eren had Zeke fooled!” 

AOT MENTIONED

“I'm sorry babe, but I gave up after the first episode,”

…. ??? im offended 

He was never able to comprehend why he couldn’t keep feelings for anyone after the six-month mark, and it almost frustrated him. Something was missing in every single relationship he had been in, and he wasn’t sure what that was. But he was determined to find an answer. 

… yeah i think i know

The answer was you.

There it is

With the amount of near run-ins he’s had with you and Seokmin on campus, he’s begun to sense that it’s some sort of karma. Whatever that karma may be for, he fully believes that it’s completely unwarranted. 

oh it is warranted, trust me. 

“Serves you right, you’re a dick to her, man.” Mingyu shrugs without any remorse to spare. 

TELL IT, GIVE IT TO HIM, GYU

“How blind are you? You have glasses and everything but you can’t see how mean you are to her sometimes? Really?” Mingyu almost sounds offended on your behalf as he stares at Wonwoo with an incredulous expression. 

im hollering lmaooo

Wonwoo is going to throw up. There's a tightness in his chest and a burning sensation behind his eyes.

ok, i feel bad for him.

Not only has he been a terrible friend without realizing it, but he’s pushed you so far to the brink that you’d rather ignore him than attempt to hash out what’s been troubling you.

poor guy, didn’t even realise it. 

What type of person has Wonwoo become that he resorts to stalking you from the front of your building?

💀 idk if i shud laugh im so sorry

That same apologetic attitude died a fiery death after watching Seokmin leave your apartment. 

nvm, this is so messy and so real

You were fine, and he should’ve known that the root of all his problems started with the name Lee Seokmin. 

Bro, just grow a pair and go talk to her instead of coming to conclusions on ur own wtf

The deathly twist in his gut intensifies the more he ponders on what may have happened during Seokmin’s visit. Wonwoo desperately wants to stop thinking about the possibilities, especially because your lack of clothing only fueled that inferno inside his mind. 

wonwoo, aren’t you her best friend? her sexual ventures now annoy you, hmmmmmmmm i seeee

Wonwoo yearns for you so much so that it supersedes any part of common sense he has left in him. 

slow burn, yearning, ah yes the only two things keeping me alive

“The number you have called is not available, please leave a message at the tone,” an automated voice affirmed his suspicions. 

🧍… i did not expect her to block him just like that but queen knows her worth !!

“What the hell are you doing here?” Both Wonwoo and Seokmin speak in unison. 

i ….. uhm … this is messy

Minnie. Wonwoo almost threw up in his mouth.  Minnie. The nickname is parallel to nails scraping against a chalkboard. 

i feel bad for him but don’t balme her either rahhhhhh

“I could say the same thing for you,” Seokmin mutters, unperturbed, “I didn’t have to do anything you know? Just a little push and she fell into my lap, voluntarily.” 

HUH?????????? WAIT WHAT. WTF OH NO NO

He was wrong about Seokmin. Even though he had known about his friend's crush on you for years, Wonwoo didn’t expect the lengths Seokmin would go to in order to cut him out of the picture. 

oh ….. oh my god. wtf

He knew you well enough that you wouldn’t just block him so carelessly, without a word no less. 

I KNEW IT

Yet he was no match for Seokmin, not after the fact that you allowed him into your home, your heart, so willingly. 

Nooooo, wonwoo. i am very shocked by the turn of events

Is this how it feels? To actually care about someone and whether their decisions might affect him later on? 

damn this alluding to his prev relationships … makes me sick. I mean he didn’t know better but still … 

“Did you fuck him?” Wonwoo cuts to the chase, not leaving any room for you to ask questions. 

😭wtf wonwoo

Wonwoo had no clue, but the thought of his friend-now-enemy defiling you, tasting you, while Wonwoo desperately waited for your call caused him to direct all his anger to you. Perhaps it’s undeserving to do so, but Wonwoo’s frustration spoke for him before his brain could even register what he was saying. 

i get him but boy pls, this is not the way

His urge to self-sabotage overrides his common sense. 

understandable but stil smh

I fell in love with my best friend, and the worst part was that you didn’t care enough to notice. 

SHE SAID IT, OMG SHE SAID IT

He should’ve known that you were in front of him this whole damn time.

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 🦅🦅🦅

In Front of Me (1)

cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me ₊˚

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: 40.6k (part 1) (part 2: here)

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.

⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, unrequited love (for the most part), pining, toxic!wonwoo, toxic!reader, both in wonwoo and readers pov, questionable protagonists, mentions of other svt members, happy ending (?), emotionally constipated characters (wonwoo), flashbacks, slight seokmin x reader, a lot of emotions thrown everywhere. (content warnings under the cut)

⊹ note: this story was meant to be posted for wonwoos bday, but if you know anything about me by now, i never really stick to my self made deadlines lol. thank you to my cutieful, big brained beta readers: ♡ @junkissed @chocosvt and @sunniques ♡ everyone in @svthub and @highvern and @gyuswhore who helped me w this fic as well ! if u look closely this is pretty much just a sugar coated version of real life events lol... anyways i hope u enjoy and lmk what u think thru the replies and reblogs :) !

⊹ masterlist, fic playlist.

⊹ smut tags: no smut in this part :p ⊹ warnings: alcohol, reader is downbad for wonwoo, stalking, slut-shaming, evasions of privacy, if i missed anything lmk! cuz ik i did i just can't think of what hehe :p

⊹ what i would like to note about this story before you read it: you're not meant to like these characters (for most of the story at least lol), they are flawed in many ways, thats the whole point of this story tbh. tmi--but this story is pretty much my free therapy lol. and i love a messy plot! wonwoo and reader are just two normal people in this story and i wanted to write something a little more raw than i'm used to. so just take what i say with a grain of salt before reading ♡ i still want you to enjoy this story because i poured my soul into it. so thank you for your support and kind asks and comments about the teaser!

prologue. 

Despite your age, you’ve never been in a serious relationship. There was always something holding you back, or rather, someone. 

In all the years you’ve known Wonwoo, you’ve always thought maybe one day, he would look at you in a different light. Hoping that he could reciprocate the feelings you’ve harboured for him since the eleventh grade. 

He was the one who constantly moved out of relationships. You couldn’t even count the amount of late-night calls where he asked you what his “next step” should be. The doting best friend that you are, you’d gladly stay up all night trying to help him fix his girl problems. 

“I just, I don’t have feelings for her anymore. Is that wrong?” he asked you over the phone. 

Tossing and turning in your bed you let out a deep sigh. One thing is always guaranteed with Wonwoo: in a relationship, he loses feelings quickly. No matter how much he likes the girl, no matter how obsessed or possessive he feels for them at the beginning of it all, it diminishes by the time the six-month mark hits. 

Although he may be a great friend to you, relationships were never his strong suit. 

“It’s not wrong to fall out of love, but how many times are you going to break up with someone before you decide to stay?” you ask him, and he pauses to think. 

“I don’t know, but I can’t stay, that would make things worse,” he sighs. “It’s better to just stop this whole thing now.” 

“I agree, but are you sure?” you continue to ask him the same questions you’ve been asking since you were sixteen. 

“I’m sure,” he replies with a heavy sigh. 

“Okay, then goodnight. It’s almost one in the morning,” you try to cut the call, but he continues to speak. 

“I’m not the bad guy, right?” he asks you for reassurance. 

“No, you’re just human Wonwoo. There’s nothing wrong with losing feelings for someone,” you affirmed. 

“Alright, thank you, good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers listlessly. 

“Good night, Wonwoo.” 

Your phone beeps indicating that he’s hung up and you can feel the heartstrings pull inside your chest. How many times will it take for Wonwoo to find someone he actually wants to be with? And why is it never you? 

act one, favorite crime.

chapter one. 

“Wait, what? You and Wonwoo aren’t dating?” Seungcheol asks you, forcing you into the hot seat. 

The rest of your friend group is boring holes into your face as they all sit around Jeonghan’s living room. The blood rises in your cheeks, but you shake your head anyway. 

It feels like every time you’re with your friends, they ask you the same set of questions. Constantly wondering why you and Wonwoo haven’t thought about dating, or why you two haven’t decided to take the chance and just be together. 

“You guys need to stop asking that. A guy can befriend someone of the opposite gender,” Wonwoo defends the two of you. 

“You’re telling me in all the years you’ve known her, you haven’t developed feelings for her once?” Cheol continues to instigate, and your eyes go wide. 

Looking over at Wonwoo, you anxiously wait for his answer, your chest blooming with hope, only for those buds to be washed away in a millisecond. 

“No, c’mon, we’re just friends. That’s it, right?” Wonwoo turns to you, trying to get you to back him up. 

Your mouth runs dry as he stares at you, his eyebrows rising in anticipation. 

“U-uh yeah, Wonwoo’s right, we’re just friends,” you blurt out, not being able to handle all the expectant eyes on you all at once. 

“See? Now can you all just get off our backs?” he chastises. 

The chatter starts up again, moving past the topic of you and Wonwoo’s friendship. But you sit there, with your heart crushed in your hands, lifeless and shrivelled. Like his words and actions had the power to tear the life out of you. The worst part was that he did all this without knowing. He’s completely oblivious to your feelings, and you only have yourself to blame.

You understand your relationship with Wonwoo is different from most people’s, but at the same time, it should be normal for a girl and a guy to just be friends. And at least you respect Wonwoo’s feelings, and you also respect that whenever he’s dating someone the dynamic between you two shifts. 

He becomes more detached when he’s in a relationship, and you’re okay with that. His priorities change and you’re okay with that. Despite your feelings for him, you know that you can’t force him to feel the same way. And you should be okay with that. 

You’ve never tried to get in the way of his love life, or purposefully give him bad advice to ruin what he has with someone else. Not since you were seventeen, and at that time in your life your frontal lobe was a measly speck of dust, but it's different now. Now, your morals don’t change just because you love him, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less to see the person you’re in love with, fall in love with someone else. 

two. 

“Hey, you okay?” Seokmin approaches you, and you turn your head, acknowledging his presence. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m alright,” you mutter, but you know you don’t look that way. 

Seokmin has known you since high school and has seen you through everything, probably more than Wonwoo. He knows when you’re not feeling well. A sympathetic permanent on his lips as he continues to observe you play with the food on your plate, pushing around the food aimlessly but never taking a bite. 

The sounds of people conversing throughout the dining hall never die down. But luckily, the commotion keeps your thoughts of Wonwoo at bay, or at least that’s what you like to think. But your heart can’t seem to let go of that moment from the other day. Having Seungcheol confirm that Wonwoo has never felt anything romantically for you was like a stab in the stomach, and him getting you to back up his words was just him twisting the knife. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You can tell me,” he sighs, pushing the hair covering your face and placing it behind your ear. 

You can feel the tears start to pool, but you try your damndest not to let them spill—not like this, not in front of so many people. 

“It was just something Wonwoo said when we were all at Hannie’s house,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact with your friend. 

“What did he say?” 

“That he’s never liked me before,” you sigh, feeling a tear slip from your eye. 

Cursing yourself in your head, you hate how much your feelings for him affect you. You hate how he doesn’t have to even be in front of you, yet he can still cause your emotions to fluctuate. 

“It’s alright,” he coos, pulling you into his strong arms. 

It felt weird, to hug Seokmin so tightly in the middle of your university’s dining hall. But you’re thankful for how aware he is, how he actually cares about your feelings. You felt melodramatic sitting there crying in the fucking dining hall of all places, but you couldn’t help but let your tears flow as Seokmin comforts you with his soft voice. 

“You deserve more than this, I hope you know that,” he whispers in your ear.

three. 

Over the next few days, the words Seokmin had whispered to you kept replaying in your head. You did deserve better and looking at all of Wonwoo’s past relationships is the perfect example. He’s not exactly the ideal boyfriend, so why did you even have feelings for him in the first place?

You could feel a migraine coming on from how hard you were thinking, but Wonwoo still seems to be the only person you can’t let go of. No matter how many times you’ve tried. 

A knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts. It was late, and you don’t remember anyone messaging you saying that they were going to come over, but you open the door anyway. 

“Hey, sorry I didn’t text,” Wonwoo moves past you, takes his shoes off, and plops on your couch. 

“It’s okay, what’s up?” you move to sit beside him. 

“I broke up with her,” He says, shrugging. 

Taken aback by his nonchalance, your eyes widen. He seems calm for someone who has just broken up with his girlfriend. But you try not to think too hard about it, or you might just have to take another Advil to remedy your already growing headache. 

“Well, how did it go?” you ask with a bit of apprehension. 

Knowing Wonwoo, you knew that he probably just dumped her over the phone or something. He’s never been bothered to really break up with someone. 

You have all these examples of why he would probably be the worst boyfriend ever, yet your heart still belongs to him. It’s pitiful, to say the least, people probably would think that you’re a masochist because you subject yourself to staying by his side when he has feelings for another. 

“She was crying, but at least it’s over now,” Wonwoo informs you as he eats the snacks you had left on your coffee table. 

“Oh.” You could feel the guilt start to seep into your veins. 

It never felt good to hear Wonwoo talk about his breakups, but you’re not sure how to react. There’s a part of you that’s happy to know that he’s single again, but the majority of you pities the girl who had just gotten her heart broken. 

Wonwoo continues to munch on the snacks left on your table while your mind tries to process the information you’ve been given. Hearing him talk so casually about his breakup leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but you decide to switch topics instead of asking any more questions. 

“Are you still going to Seokmin’s thing this weekend, though?” you ask him, trying to fill the air with something to drown out your rapid heartbeats. 

He shrugs his shoulders, “If I feel like it. Are you?” 

The bottom of your stomach tightens. You were hoping that he would go, even looking forward to it. Is that pathetic? To want to see him everywhere you go? Maybe you were pathetic to the point where you only felt like hanging out with your friends if he was there. 

“I mean, I don’t have a ride so…” you trail off, pretending to pay attention to whatever was playing on the T.V. screen. 

“I’ll go since you’re going, that way you have a ride,” he mumbles, adjusting his posture to lean back on your couch. 

He sighs as he sinks into the plush cushions, spreading his legs while he puts his arms up. You’re very aware of his proximity, and you try not to let it show. But the smell of his cologne invades your senses, knocking the breath out of your chest. 

Wonwoo’s arm circles your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and forcing your head to rest delicately on his broad shoulder. Exhaling, you let yourself enjoy his way of showing affection. Although to him it means nothing, and to you, quite literally everything. 

“Thank you for agreeing to go to Seokmin’s so I have a ride,” you whisper but still avoid eye contact so he doesn’t notice your flustered expression. 

“Thank you for letting me barge in here just so I can talk about my breakup,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head. 

“Of course, what are best friends for?” 

four. 

Most people fall in love gradually, slowly growing feelings for the person before they can even call it love. Like the way the seasons steadily turned from winter to spring. Green grass peeking from underneath the melting snow, or flowers gently blooming and unravelling their new set of stems and petals. For you, it was different.

 Falling in love with Wonwoo wasn’t gradual at all. 

If anything, falling in love with Wonwoo felt like a snowstorm in the middle of a sunny day. Your affection for him grew rapidly, and before you knew it, your mind was clouded with him and him only. It became hard to stay rational as if you were driving down a snow-filled road without any control over the steering wheel. Swerving into different lanes, your brakes malfunction, making it hard to bring your car to a full stop. Falling in love with Wonwoo was not gradual or easy.

When you met him on the first day of your junior year of high school, your sixteen-year-old brain couldn’t fully comprehend your crush on him. He was the shy, scrawny new kid in your class, and no one paid mind to him except you. But that didn’t stop you from liking him. Despite his interest in collecting pokémon cards and his crooked glasses that were too big for his face, you were in love. 

You were like two peas in a pod that whole year, and the only time you and Wonwoo spent time apart was when he had to leave during summer break to visit family in Korea. 

When he returned for your senior year, you could barely recognize him. Suddenly the nerdy Wonwoo you knew was gone. His glasses complimented his face, his hair was styled differently, and most of all, he got hot. A lot of your classmates must’ve seemed to agree because now your best friend and the man you’re in love with gained attention from people who didn’t even bat an eyelash at him last year. 

It annoyed you to see all these people suddenly interested in him. You were angry that just because he grew a few inches and learned to do his hair didn’t mean he was that much different from how he was last year. 

Even though Wonwoo was in a relationship, he still stayed true to your friendship. He still hung out with you, ate lunch with you, you even came over on weekends to have dinner with his family. Day by day, your love for him strengthened, and you ignored that his attention had been divided between you and his girlfriend at the time. 

When their relationship hit three months, it seemed your friendship had come to an abrupt halt. He didn’t invite you for dinner as often, you two didn’t talk on the phone every other night. He started to invest more of his time into her until he decided she wasn’t worth his energy anymore. Then the calls would come, his contact name flashing across your phone screen to ask you for advice. 

“I feel like I need to break up with Haein,” his deep voice flowed through your phone speaker. A sigh left his lips as he faced the truth. 

Haein was Wonwoo’s first girlfriend. She was nice, almost too nice. Wonwoo definitely had a type for girls with a bubbly personality. Ones that were effortlessly beautiful, reminiscent of a freshly made porcelain doll. That was Haein to you, unblemished in every way possible. Everything that you weren’t.

You couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. She was too nice to hate, but your younger self was so angry at how much of Wonwoo's time she took up that you envied her. Seokmin once jokingly mentioned that you looked especially green when she was around, and you remember how quickly you checked your appearance on the nearest reflective surface because of what he had said in passing. You remember vividly how nervous his words made you, was it that obvious?

Wonwoo’s first time calling you about his breakup plans was a delightful surprise, and you were too in shock to sputter out a proper response.

“Oh. Why?” was all you could say, still stunned that after a week of no contact, this was the first thing he said. 

“‘Dunno, I just don’t like her anymore,” he admitted effortlessly. 

You didn’t know how to respond. Your heart was screaming at you to encourage him to break up with his girlfriend at the time, while your brain was telling you to think logically. 

“Well, if that’s what you think is right,” you mumbled, trying to hide the fact that you felt a sense of relief at Wonwoo potentially being single again. 

Others may have tried to rationalize with Wonwoo, but you didn’t care. You wanted your friendship with him to turn back to normal. Your adolescent brain ignored that it was wrong to encourage him, as long as he was fully yours again.

History repeated itself over and over, and the older you got, you learnt to not be so selfish with his attention. Mostly out of guilt for the person he was going to break up with, but also because you didn’t want Wonwoo to realize your true feelings. 

Although being in love with Wonwoo was brutal, you constantly wished that things were different between you two, but they weren’t. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, and as your friendship with him progressed, you had begun to learn to mask your romantic feelings for platonic ones. 

five. 

By the time you entered university, you had mastered the art of pretending. As if your feelings for Wonwoo didn’t exist. You are quite meticulous in ensuring that he never realizes that you are profoundly in love with him. The mere thought of him finding out how you truly felt frightened you. 

You’ve already envisioned countless scenarios on how it could go. The idea of being rejected by the one you love most. It would change everything about your friendship with him.  The look of pity in his eyes, the apologies that would spill out of his mouth. You can't bear even the thought of rejection. Not from him. 

Two voices are constantly at war inside your mind. Your brain, acting as the voice of reason, constantly reminds you that it’s better to preserve your friendship. To keep the dynamic you’ve always had with Wonwoo guarded where it could last, thrive. While your heart persuaded you with deluded, fake scenarios. 

‘What if he likes you back?’ 

‘You never know until you try.’ 

‘Take the risk or lose the chance.’ 

What if. 

Like a siren to a sailor, your heart sang with deep imagery. Filling your thoughts with illusions of you and Wonwoo finally together. But your mind doesn’t let you go without a fight. It knows that beyond the deep waters where your siren-voiced heart lies is nothing but a bottomless pit. 

The possibilities are endless, and you’d rather stay safely grounded in your boat of rationality. 

A notification brings you out of your thoughts. Although you already knew that it was Wonwoo, you scramble to pick up your phone. There’s excitement laced in your veins as you look down at the screen. 

7:06 p.m. [wons <3]: be there in 5. 

There was no reason for you to be so ecstatic but you couldn’t help it. He had already texted you prior, notifying you that he was leaving his place to come pick you up, and yet every time your phone buzzes, you still hope that it’s something completely different. But that was your heart talking; you knew that it wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. 

Everyone had planned to meet at Seokmin’s place today, just to have one last celebration before midterms began again. You had happily agreed, enthusiastic that you could spend more time with Wonwoo, although it wouldn’t be a one-on-one thing. You were more than elated to see him while also being able to hang out with the rest of your friends. 

Throwing your phone back on the bed, you change into an outfit that is both cute and comfortable. There wasn’t a reason to dress up when the vibe at Seokmin’s was just going to be sitting around his living room, drinking cocktails and eating pizza. 

Wonwoo texts you once more to let you know he’s outside, causing you to race down to meet him. A lump in your throat arises, as he comes into your field of vision, appreciating how breathtakingly handsome he is. 

The chilled breeze brushes through the strands of his hair, glasses perched on his tall nose. He looked amazing, just like he always had, but you never get bored of admiring him. Even if it’s just from afar. 

“Hi! Sorry if I kept you waiting,” your voice resounds into the night. 

“It's never a problem if it’s you,” he chuckles as you dawdle over to the passenger side of his car. 

Trying not to read too deep into his words, you snort at his cheesy line instead of giving a response. Watching Wonwoo move to the side as he opens the car door for you. His actions make you blush, and you know you’ll think about it for the rest of the night. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, smiling at you. 

The ride to Seokmin’s house is fairly quiet, the sounds of music filling the silence instead. Your thoughts are overflowing with scenarios once again, wondering how different the car ride would be if you and Wonwoo were in a relationship. His fingers would probably be laced with yours, or rubbing soothingly against your thigh while his other hand gripped the steering wheel. Planting kisses on your cheeks at every red light. It seemed like heaven on the other side. But you knew reality would crush your delusions soon enough. 

…

  The clock on Seokmin’s pale white wall is nearing midnight and you don’t want to be here anymore. Not when the only thing you could focus on was Wonwoo flirting with a girl whose name you didn’t catch. She’s Joshua’s childhood friend and he only brought her along because she’s visiting from out of town. Whoever she was, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to you was the fact that she was able to bring out Wonwoo’s deep laugh. The kind of laugh that only befalls upon your ears when he finds something genuinely funny.

The ugly swirl of jealousy sits in the pit of your stomach and you couldn't help but scoff at your wretched situation. It made you sick watching them, and you could throw up any minute now. At this point, you weren’t sure who to envy, Wonwoo or the girl he was flirting with. You find it unfair that he doesn’t realize how greatly he can impact your feelings. 

Just a few hours ago, you were in utter bliss. Sitting in the front seat of his car, listening to the music softly playing on the ride to Seokmin’s apartment. Making stupid jokes and pointing out the random sights that you had seen while driving down the bustling city streets. You envy how easy it is for Wonwoo to make all those feelings of delight vanish. And he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know what he’s doing to you, and that’s what hurts the most. 

“You doing okay?” Seokmin comes up to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. 

“Huh? Oh. Yeah I’m okay,” you chuckle, but there’s nothing humorous about your laugh at all. 

His eyes soften, he knows that you’re not okay. Seokmin always knew. After all these years, he can tell when you’re trying to save face. There’s a lump in your throat, and if you didn’t have a drink to sip on to distract you, you probably would’ve gone to the bathroom to cry. 

“You wanna talk in my room?” he offers, and you’re grateful. 

Seokmin knew he had to get you somewhere other than the living room. You were practically torturing yourself, sitting on the couch and watching Wonwoo talk to everyone but you. 

Instead of agreeing vocally, you nod your head before standing up to follow Seokmin to his room. The door shuts softly, muffling the sounds of laughter and allowing your uneasiness to finally subside. 

As you sit on Seokmin’s bed, you feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks. It feels pathetic, crying over something so trivial. Why does it have to be you who feels this way? Why can’t you just be a normal friend and see Wonwoo in a platonic light? The whole world could turn upside and he’d be the first person you search for. 

Everything just seemed so unfair, how could you possibly be happy if your feelings for Wonwoo were constantly in the way of it all? It’s tiring, worrying about him, yearning for him. You could do so many other things with your time, and when you look toward the future, you know that you’ll regret how much of your life you wasted loving someone who doesn’t love you back. 

“It’s okay, just let it out,” Seokmin whispers in your ear, embracing you in a tight hug. 

Crying felt good. You rarely cry over your situation despite how upsetting it is. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to finally indulge in your sadness and let go of everything you were too afraid to say or feel.  

“I know it sucks right now, but honestly, it might be time to get over him,” Seokmin continues to comfort you while trying to help you face the reality of your situation. “You’re so hurt, and it’s taking a toll on you. Please, I can’t bear to see you so sad.” 

His words hit you hard because you know it's true. But all you can do is apologize. Saying sorry for feeling this way, even though it’s not your fault, you cannot control your feelings, you still apologize. To Seokmin, to your friends, but also yourself. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccup, tears staining Seokmin’s white shirt. 

“Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong,” he mutters, his large hand patting your head, trying to soothe your fit of emotions. 

“Because, if I was normal, you wouldn’t have to worry about me, about why I’m always upset, you and the others, my feelings are burdening all of you,” you continue to weep softly in his arms, gripping onto his shoulders as his hands encircle your waist. 

“Hey, look at me–” he grabs your face, gentle as a mouse, rubbing away the tears from your cheeks. “You are not a burden. We care, that’s why we worry, and I just want to be there for you.” 

“Thank you, Seokmin. I’m so happy that I have someone like you in my life,” you pull him into a hug again, knocking the air out of his chest, but he’s still somehow able to hug you even tighter. 

Seokmin is like your favourite childhood blanket, keeping you warm and away from everything that could possibly hurt you. He’s always willing to hear you rant about things that you know you could never tell Wonwoo. 

“I’m so tired, I’m tired of feeling like this,” you admit to him. 

Running his hands through your hair, he gives you a reassuring smile. 

“Maybe it’s time to distance yourself from him a bit, you two have been glued to the hip for so long. Maybe that distance can help organize your feelings better,” he mutters, catching the stray tears that pool at your chin, and wiping them away for you. 

“I want to feel better,” you agree with him, still trying to recover from how hard you were sobbing into his chest. 

“I care about you, okay? We all do. Wonwoo cares about you, too, but there’s a point where you’ll have to be okay with whatever outcome happens if you decide to tell him how you feel. Or you just have to find a way to get over him,” he speaks softly, trying not to crush your heart with reality, but you know he’s right. “In the Future, you will thank yourself for making whatever decision you have to make, but trust me, holding all these feelings in won’t do you any good.” He ends his pep talk there, and you sigh, trying to process everything he said. 

“Thank you, Minnie, I’m so thankful I have you,” you sniffled. 

“And I you.” 

…

Seokmin explained to Soonyoung and Jihoon that you needed to go home after your talk in his bedroom. They were more than happy to take you along with them before heading back to their place, not wanting to force you into a car with Wonwoo at the end of the night. 

“Of course, it’s really no trouble at all,” Soonyoung reassures you after you had asked about a million times if it was okay to ride home with them. 

The car ride is drastically different from the one you had taken on the way to Seokmin’s, Soonyoung being the number one reason why. He’s not the best at reading the room, although Jihoon is constantly telling him to shut up. He knows you are upset over something, but Soonyoung’s way of cheering you up is getting you to laugh. While Jihoon believed that you may want a more peaceful environment after everything that happened. 

As Jihoon drove, Soonyoung sang along with the lyrics of the current song playing. Loud enough for anyone outside the car to hear him. You could tell he was a bit tipsy after the few beers he had earlier, but you didn’t mind the noise. Jihoon begged to differ. 

“Soon, can you tone it down? Please. People are looking at us,” Jihoon grumbles, trying to focus on the road ahead. 

“But you love it when I sing,” Soonyoung whines, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“I do, but our friend has had a long night,” Jihoon counters. 

Soonyoung turns to face you from the passenger seat. “If you want me to be quiet, I will.” 

“No, it’s okay, I’m actually enjoying it, thank you very much,” you giggle, and that was all the confirmation he needed, going back to his antics. 

Jihoon groans as Soonyoung practically breaks out into full song and dance, causing you to sing along with him. This distraction from all the conflicting thoughts gives you a refuge from the war inside your mind.  

The whole way back to your place was filled with singing and laughter, allowing you to finally feel at ease for once. Albeit Jihoon pretended to act annoyed the whole time, you knew he secretly loved how Soonyoung tried to bring the mood back up to help you. 

Once you got home, you thanked the two before bidding them farewell. Apprehension flowed throughout you, and you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts after being around someone as cheerful as Soonyoung. But you didn’t know where else to go or what else to do.

Laying in your bed, you think about how today went from beginning to end, and you’re scared of what will happen in the future. Sighing to yourself, you allow yourself to at least get some rest instead of staying up all night thinking about the possibilities of tomorrow. Turning your phone on "do not disturb," the stillness in your apartment lulls you to sleep. 

1:09 a.m. [wons <3]: seokmin said u went home early? u ok? 

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

chapter one. 

Wonwoo’s ride home was sombre, yet desolate. Your absence from his passenger seat irked him. Street lights whisk by his vision in a blur, but he’s too lost in his thoughts as he drives on autopilot, wondering why you went home so early. You didn’t even say goodbye. It’s the first time you went home from Seokmin’s place without him. 

By the time he got home, his curiosity had started to claw at him, but he didn’t want to be irrational and assume the worst. So he texted you, hoping that there would be an explanation awaiting him in the morning. 

Not a single notification from you came that very next morning. No matter how many times his phone went off, no matter how many notifications popped up from his screen. None of them were you. Morning turned to afternoon, and afternoon slowly turned into night. Still nothing. 

He feels dejected. Everything seemed to be going okay just last night. That was until you abruptly left without telling him you were going home. What changed? Why did it feel like there was a shift between you two? 

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo. Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the breakup and lose feelings first; every decision he made was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 

Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up at your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been. 

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his best friend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it. 

… 

Less than forty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence was perfectly normal, then maybe you would eventually end up answering him. 

12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?

Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them? 

1:27 p.m.  [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁

Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond. 

2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.  [1 photo attachment] 

Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.

4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today? 

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he has witnessed. 

4:30 p.m.  [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw. 

Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin, of all people, solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back. 

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he could keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up. 

two, wonwoo’s summer before senior year. 

The school year flew by with the speed of light. And before Wonwoo knew it, he was home back in Korea for the summer. The dreaded fifteen-hour plane ride over was excruciating. There was an ache in his lower back, and his knees felt like they were being struck by a hammer with every step he took. But at least the worst part was over. 

Sixteen-year-old Wonwoo was quite naive, thinking that he’d be welcomed into his home country with loving arms. That hadn’t been the case at all, and for the two months that he spent in Changwon, he couldn’t help but count the days till he could come back home. Where you had been patiently waiting for him. 

He despised being away from you, and he had yearned for you every moment he was gone. With you by his side, Wonwoo had finally understood the true meaning of solace, a peace of mind that couldn’t be replicated. Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.

Every year that Wonwoo was dragged back to Korea by his parents was excruciating. Especially because he had a certain distaste for his relatives. Maybe it was disrespectful to loathe them the way he did, but he couldn’t care less. Their scathing comments would flow out of their mouths just to pierce daggers of judgement into his back. To insult Wonwoo was second nature to his aunts, and he couldn’t do much but sit back and listen.  

Much to his dismay, his parents hadn’t even bothered to book an Airbnb for their stay, informing him and his brother that they would be staying with his aunt. He couldn’t stand his aunt Seo-Ah in particular, and he swore the feeling was mutual. Unsure of why he had to withstand her crude remarks in front of his family without much protest, he forced himself not to dish out rude rebuttals to everything she had to say. 

There was a time when Wonwoo tried to reason with himself on why his aunt was filled with so much bitterness, but he gave up on that long ago. He was about to be seventeen now, and he couldn’t bring himself to empathize with the older lady anymore. 

“Wonwoo! You’re all grown up now, and I can’t believe it,” Seo-Ah forced him into a bone-crushing hug as he tried his best not to push her off of him. She pulled back to take a closer look at him and he could already see the scrutinizing gleam in her eyes, “You know, you’re still so skinny for your age. Do your parents not feed you enough?” 

Wonwoo wanted to scoff at her, but he kept a neutral expression. 

“No they do, I don’t know maybe it’s my fast metabolism or something,” he refuted her claims. He couldn’t wait to get out of her sight. 

“You know, maybe you should start going to the gym, get some muscle on you or something,” she patted his lanky arm and laughed that dreadful laugh. The ones that have no real humour behind it, just to cover up the obvious dig she took at his appearance. 

“Yeah maybe,” he dismisses her to head into the house. Setting his luggage down to check whether or not you’ve texted him yet. 

It was about five in the evening in Changwon, but he knew you wouldn’t be asleep. Faintly recalling how you were planning to stay up late every night to watch BuzzFeed unsolved videos, or until your mom yelled at you to go to bed. 

[4:15 p.m. kst]  [you: i stayed up all night watching buzzfeed unsolved]  [you: im going crazy i keep getting paranoid to the point i’ve turned all my mirrors backwards]  [you: hope ur flight was ok tho!!! 🫶]

He chuckled to himself, remembering your wide eyes and elaborate plan to sneak snacks into your room in the early hours of the morning behind your parents’ backs. Wonwoo missed you, and your stupid obsession with horror podcasts and YouTube shows. He missed the way your smile would shine so bright as you talked about all the haunted places the hosts would visit. 

Wonwoo did not care for horror or anything scary, but if you were to ask him to stay up all night on Facetime binge-watching your little Buzzfeed videos, he would do so in a heartbeat. 

Two days down, about another 89 to go, Wonwoo thought to himself as he looked through your messages with him. You had already spammed the chat mercilessly about your first two days of summer break, and your intricate mission to stay up without accidentally falling asleep in the middle of it all. 

[6:00 p.m. kst] [1 photo attachment]  [you: currently trying to sneak snacks into my room without my mom knowing]  [you: u better not snitch 😾]  [you: its so boring w out u here btw SO COME BACK SOON PLSS]  [you: ok thats enuff…txt me when u land!]

Wonwoo really missed you. 

…

One more week and Wonwoo would finally get to see you again. The ability to talk to you in person, hug you, and spend time with you gave him something to look forward to, and thankfully, summer break went by fast because of it. 

He had spent most of his time in Korea eating at local food spots, going to the gym, and trying a lot of new things with his brother, Seongho, giving them time to bond before he went off to University again. Wonwoo had missed his brother dearly during the school year, but at least they were able to pass the time together during summer break. 

It was initially his brother’s convincing that got him to go to the gym for the very first time. The idea of going to a place with a lot of sweaty, adrenaline-filled people kind of frightened him, but the more he went, the more he started to like what he saw in the mirror. Wonwoo’s shoulders had broadened, and his lanky arms finally started to show signs of muscles. He was satisfied in knowing that all of his hard work, and Seongho’s encouragement had finally paid off. 

Seongho told him he looked a lot more carefree now that he wasn’t so worried about his appearance all the time. And it was then that Wonwoo realized that he wasn’t all that bad-looking, after all. 

Wonwoo had begun to take pride in his vanity. He searched for different ways to style his hair, bought glasses that better suited his face shape, and, most of all, did his best to act more confidently. The sudden change made him wonder how you would react. He had been anticipating your reaction, wanting to see the look on your face once he returned home. 

“You got it. Just one more rep, and we can switch,” Seongho encouraged Wonwoo as he tried to push the bar up from his chest. 

His muscles were aching in the most addictive and satisfying way. He almost wished he had started working out earlier because only good things seemed to have come ever since he stepped foot into the gym. 

“Okay! You’re done, that was good,” his older brother high-fived him, a proud smile dancing along his lips. 

“Thanks, but my arms feel like jelly now,” he huffed a chuckle before gulping down the contents of his water bottle. 

Seongho chuckled along with him before setting himself down on the workout bench. His actions faltered, and he slowly observed the mirror in front of him, raising his eyebrows in amusement. 

“Uh, don’t look now, but I think that girl is staring at you,” Seongho tilted his head in the girl’s direction and Wonwoo couldn’t be more confused. 

“Huh? Are you sure it's me they’re looking at and not you?” 

“I’m serious! You should go talk to her,” Seongho grinned, pushing his younger brother in the direction of the girl who was supposedly eyeing Wonwoo. 

“Hyung!” Wonwoo calls out but it falls on deaf ears as his older brother begins his bench presses. 

Wonwoo turns towards the girl in the most awkward way humanly possible. He was completely dumbfounded and not sure what to do in the situation he’d been put in. The girl who was staring at him waved flirtatiously, and before he could even think about his next move, his feet had begun to move on their own accord. 

“Hi, I saw you working out over there, are you new here?” she asked him, batting her eyelashes. 

“Uhm, I guess? I’m only here for the summer though,” he spoke with apprehension, because what the hell was he even supposed to say? 

“Oh! Me too. My name is Haein, by the way.” Haein’s smile reached her eyes as she giggled, and her hand extended to shake Wonwoo’s. 

Wonwoo’s actions were practically robotic, rubbing his sweaty palms on his gym shorts before taking her hand in his. He remembers thinking about how soft her hands were, and how pretty she looked with her hair tied up in a messy bun. 

“I’m Wonwoo.” 

“Wonwoo, hmm, that’s a cute name. But I think I would like it more in my contacts,” she flirted shamelessly, her fingers squeezing his sweaty bicep. 

Wonwoo’s mind short-circuited, and he took out his phone from his pocket so fast it almost slipped out of his grasp. Haein found it endearing though, and happily gave him her phone number. 

They talked for the rest of Wonwoo's time at the gym and promised to hang out more before they both went home at the end of the summer. 

To put it simply, Wonwoo was on cloud nine for the first time since he’s been here. Suddenly his aunt Seo-Ah’s words weren’t so hurtful, his confidence had skyrocketed, plus he had a beautiful girl to talk to for the rest of his vacation. 

By the end of summer, Wonwoo started to miss you less and less. Even though he still saw you as his best friend, he began to find peace in other things, like the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown. Finally, for the first time in his life, Wonwoo felt serene, and that made him a little more whole than he was when he first landed in Changwon. 

…

The after-effects of Wonwoo’s surprisingly pleasant summer vacation hadn’t worn off just yet. The gift of Haein appearing in his life seemed to just keep on giving. Not only did she live overseas, she had told him that she was actually from the same city as him. It was a little hard to believe at first as if he was the main character in a cheesy rom-com, but he couldn’t find it in him to complain. Haein made him feel wanted, excited, and cared for. 

Wonwoo wasn’t entirely devoid of those feelings, especially with you as his best friend, but it was different coming from Haein. Every time he saw her, he felt like he was going to throw up, in a good way of course, but she also boosted his confidence. He liked that she made him feel like he was a man worth depending on. 

Haein was his first real relationship, and although he was still young, he could see himself being with her for a long time. 

…

Quite like the seasons, Wonwoo’s feelings for Haein changed drastically by the time school was back in session. Although he and Haein lived in the same city, there was a lot more than just distance that separated them. 

Six months into their relationship, Wonwoo began to doubt himself. He was less eager to meet her or even text her. He could only blame himself for how things turned out with Haein. Despite his adolescence, he believed he loved her; he just got tired and disinterested. 

On a subconscious level, Wonwoo could not stop comparing Haein to you, and as fucked up as that was, it was completely out of his control. Why didn’t Haein ever want to talk about what Wonwoo was interested in? Why did she seem bored out of her mind when he would delve into his theories about his favourite shows? Or anything about himself and what he liked. As though she didn’t see him for the Wonwoo he was, the personality he had behind his looks. 

“It all makes sense now! Eren had Zeke fooled!” Wonwoo couldn’t contain his excitement about the newest episode, but Haein didn’t seem interested in hearing her boyfriend geek out. 

“I'm sorry babe, but I gave up after the first episode,” Haein sighed into the phone, and if Wonwoo could guess, she was probably picking at her cuticles out of boredom. “I just didn’t get anything that was happening.” 

“Wait, really?” He was a little offended, how could she not be obsessing over the beautiful intricacies of his favourite anime? Wonwoo didn’t understand. 

He didn’t understand because when he introduced you to the show, you texted him the next day saying you were caught up to where he had left off. It amazed Wonwoo how fast you were at binge-watching shows, especially because he had told you about it on a weekday. 

You came into school the morning after with dark circles under your eyes, but even with that tired look on your face, you ran up to him with so much eagerness while thanking him for urging you to watch his favourite show. You two were obsessed and never missed out on watching the weekly episodes together.  It had become you and Wonwoo’s thing, and even though he wanted Haein to join in on the fun, he found himself more entertained by your theories than by talking on the phone with his girlfriend. 

It dawned on him that he wished that Haein acted a little more like you. And it made him feel guilty. He knew he should’ve loved Haein no matter her interests, but he wanted someone who could understand his nerdy side. And that was only something that you were able to do. 

“Honestly, I’m really tired, I’m gonna go to bed now okay?” Haein’s voice brought Wonwoo out of his thoughts. 

“Oh okay. Night.” He said before ending the call so quickly that Haein’s ‘I love you’ was cut off mid-sentence. 

Haein probably had thought he had forgotten, but Wonwoo just didn’t want to say those words if he didn’t mean it. He had grown annoyed, and a little bored of practically talking to a wall all night.  

Comparable to the light switching off in his bedroom, he decided to do the same thing with Haein. He pushed his guilt aside and decided it was probably best to leave Haein and Changwon in the past. The memories of his last week of summer with her would become something he would look back on in the future and smile. But he didn’t want to pretend any longer, it would’ve just hurt her more if he stayed, he couldn’t help that he fell out of love with her. The least he could do was not lead her on. 

Wonwoo’s relationship with Haein was merely a catalyst and a peek into what the rest of his relationships were going to look like in adulthood. He was never able to comprehend why he couldn’t keep feelings for anyone after the six-month mark, and it almost frustrated him. Something was missing in every single relationship he had been in, and he wasn’t sure what that was. But he was determined to find an answer. 

three, present time.

The answer was you. But of course, Wonwoo didn’t know that. 

“Are you gonna keep checking your phone every five minutes or are you gonna do your homework?” Mingyu lectures him. 

The two were studying in the library before their stats midterm, but Wonwoo’s mind couldn’t help but wonder. He hasn’t been acting like himself since the night of Seokmin’s party. 

“Oh, right.” Wonwoo clears his throat, putting his phone face down on the table. 

Wonwoo drags his palms against his face, trying to not let sleep overtake him. It is not his fault that every time he tries to close his eyes, your face comes into his mind. The memory of you smiling with Seokmin made his insides twist. He hasn’t seen you smile that hard in a while, and he almost misses how your eyes crinkle whenever you do so. You were practically haunting him and he had no idea how to make it stop. 

“Not to be rude, but you’ve been looking like shit lately. What’s wrong?” Mingyu questions him with furrowed eyebrows. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his friend, he didn’t have to be insulted to know how crappy he looked, but Mingyu seemed to only be telling the truth. Wonwoo did look and feel like shit. With the amount of near run-ins he’s had with you and Seokmin on campus, he’s begun to sense that it’s some sort of karma. Whatever that karma may be for, he fully believes that it’s completely unwarranted. 

Forcing a hand through his dark locks, Wonwoo contemplates whether or not he should just go up to you in person and demand answers. It’s uncommon for the two of you to fight, or ignore each other for that matter. But he can’t help but presume that if he were to confront you about your silence, there would be no rightful explanation. Or at least not the explanation that he wants from you. 

Every time he even fathoms the thought of barging into your apartment and asking what the hell is wrong, there’s a lingering nervousness that he wishes would dissipate, leading him to lay awake with his thoughts for hours on end. 

“Thanks for that, asshole, I just haven’t been getting much sleep,” Wonwoo huffs. 

“Okay, obviously. You practically look like a zombie with the way you’ve been moping around. What has been keeping you up?” Mingyu presses. 

It’s not every day that Wonwoo indulges in his problems with Mingyu, that’s what you were for. However, he can’t talk about his problems about you, to you, so he’ll have to settle for the next best thing.  

“Y/N has been ignoring me since the night we all hung out at Seokmin’s,” Wonwoo confesses, and it feels nice. 

For the past two weeks, he’s been keeping his frustrations to himself, and now that he can freely speak about it lifts the weight off his chest. 

Mingyu snorts, obviously finding his friend’s situation humorous. Wonwoo sneers at Mingyu’s reaction, clearly not finding anything about you ignoring him funny. 

“Serves you right, you’re a dick to her, man.” Mingyu shrugs without any remorse to spare. 

“What?” Wonwoo sputters, since when was he a dick to you? His best friend? 

“How blind are you? You have glasses and everything but you can’t see how mean you are to her sometimes? Really?” Mingyu almost sounds offended on your behalf as he stares at Wonwoo with an incredulous expression. 

“I am not a dick to her. She would definitely tell me if I’ve ever said something to hurt her feelings,” Wonwoo defends himself. 

Attempting to rack his brain of all your moments together, he can’t seem to pick out a memory where he has been especially rude to you. Of course, you two teased each other from time to time, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. He knew when to not take a joke too far or purposely try to upset you. 

“You’re a dumbass.” Mingyu lets out a frustrated sigh which only aggravates Wonwoo even more. 

“Could you stop with the insults for one second and just tell me what’s going on?” 

Shutting his laptop, Mingyu’s posture becomes serious, a deviation from his usual carefree and smiley self. He cares about you just as much as the next person, so if he had to reality-check his friend, then so be it. 

“She cares about you a lot. And you treat her like shit. It’s not about what you’ve said to her, it’s your actions. Ever since we were in high school all you’ve done is use her to solve your problems. I can’t even blame her for wanting to cut you off. I don’t know what happened at Seokmin’s place for her to realize that, but you don’t deserve her,” Mingyu confesses. 

Soaking up each word that left Mingyu’s mouth, Wonwoo sat in a pool of perplexity. There are so many questions flying through his mind, yet he can’t seem to utter a single word. Is that really how everyone perceives his friendship with you? 

Wonwoo is going to throw up. There's a tightness in his chest and a burning sensation behind his eyes. He wants nothing more than to hear all of this coming from you, not Mingyu. The frustration of wanting to talk to you about this is taking a toll on him, he doesn’t want to believe that Mingyu is telling the truth. 

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Mingyu gets to know these things about you while Wonwoo is just left in the dark. Did he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him anything? 

Ever since Wonwoo met you, it was evident that he can be quite merciless when it comes to his relationships, but that’s romantic, not platonic. Wonwoo was convinced that he treated you equally because that’s how it's supposed to be. 

Hearing Mingyu talk about his friendship with you in that way caused Wonwoo’s whole world to crash down. And the only thing he can do in moments like these is seek out your comfort, except he can’t anymore. Not only has he been a terrible friend without realizing it, but he’s pushed you so far to the brink that you’d rather ignore him than attempt to hash out what’s been troubling you.

“I-I didn’t know that's how you guys saw our friendship,” Wonwoo falters, clearly taken aback, and still attempting to fully comprehend what’s been said to him. 

“It’s not that we see your friendship with her that way, it is that way. If I was her, I would’ve cut you off a long time ago.” 

“Well, thanks, Gyu. I feel like this could’ve been said before she started ignoring me,” Wonwoo huffs, trying to come up with the words to explain his side.

“It was kinda obvious, man,” Mingyu shrugs. 

“Was it, though? If I had known, I would’ve at least tried to be better,” Wonwoo attests, tired of feeling like the bad guy. 

“How about you just talk to her about it instead of sulking,” Mingyu suggests. 

Desperation hijacked his rational thinking, making Mingyu’s advice sound plausible. Talking to you seemed out of the equation since you started ignoring him; he feared you wouldn’t even answer if he tried to call or show up at your door. But he can’t go on like this, especially now that he knows there is more to your friendship than he had initially thought. 

four. 

For the first time in Wonwoo’s life, he’s unsure about what decision to make. Although he wants nothing more than to knock on your door, his feet stop him from even entering your building. So instead of mucking up the courage to talk to you face to face, he waits inside his car. Without a solid plan, he continues to sit there, biding his time. 

Never has he acted so pathetic in his life, not even for the sake of his relationships. He knows that nothing will come from sitting there, just watching, but before he can even comprehend what he is doing and where he is going, he is already across the street from your place. 

Gripping on the leather of his steering wheel, he just couldn’t help himself. He can’t help but watch your silhouette from your window. The curtains are drawn, but there are glimpses of you walking around. He’s such a fucking loser. What type of person has Wonwoo become that he resorts to stalking you from the front of your building? 

After all that Mingyu has enlightened him on, Wonwoo’s attitude has become less angry and more apologetic. There was a line he pondered crossing, and it practically mocked him. Stepping over that line would mean getting answers from you, demanding to be brought into the light that you had snuffed out from under him. But his uncertainty of the outcome outweighed his decision to do so.

That same apologetic attitude died a fiery death after watching Seokmin leave your apartment. There you were in all your glory, the tiny sleep set clinging onto your body as the wind forced its way into the door of your building. Then there was Seokmin, grinning like a fucking idiot as he waved goodbye. 

“Shit!” Wonwoo grunts as he ducks down, not wanting to blow his cover. His car was visible from where the two of you stood, hoping that you weren’t able to recognize it in the dead of night.  

Boring holes into the back of Seokmin’s head, Wonwoo's guilt diminished, floating away with the cold night breeze. You were fine, and he should’ve known that the root of all his problems started with the name Lee Seokmin. 

The shape of your figure had faded into the confines of your building. Yet Wonwoo can still make out your body through the glass window of your door. He can’t help but gawk at your skimpy attire, your ass practically on display for the whole world to see. The deathly twist in his gut intensifies the more he ponders on what may have happened during Seokmin’s visit. Wonwoo desperately wants to stop thinking about the possibilities, especially because your lack of clothing only fueled that inferno inside his mind. 

He’s never been more annoyed at Seokmin in his entire life, not until today. 

Wonwoo allowed himself to ignore the signs, but only for a moment. But this, this he can’t ignore. Not after what he witnessed. He allowed himself to stay ignorant when it came to your silence because he had been so naive to think that it was your decision. Now that he knows Seokmin had somehow weaselled his way closer to you, Wonwoo had to make sure this plan of his didn’t go on any longer. 

…

There is a heat inside Wonwoo that, for some reason, he cannot extinguish. The curve and outlines of your body burn in the back of his retinas. No matter how many times he’s tried to put himself to sleep, the image of you is clear as day in his mind.  Sparks crawl their way up his spine, and he desperately wishes that it would just go away. 

There’s a point where Wonwoo gave up on trying to sleep altogether. Thoughts of you, your body, and the oh-so-painful reminder that you’re still ignoring him. How can he sleep with everything going on? What made things worse, was the fact that the one person he wanted to call most likely wouldn’t pick up.

Wonwoo wasn’t the type of person to let his emotions get the better of him, but this abrupt rift that has been torn between you two has him acting out in ways he’s never acted before. 

The urge to grab his phone, to text you, to give it one more try, grows perpetually every second he lies awake. 

One more time. One more attempt. What does he have to lose? 

Wonwoo stands up, pacing around nonsensically, trying to think of what to say. For all he knows, you may not even answer, but there is the urge to hear your voice one more time and see your name pop up on his screen. Wonwoo yearns for you so much so that it supersedes any part of common sense he has left in him. 

[12:52 a.m.]  [wons <3: darling. can we talk? please?]  [not delivered] 

The silence within the four walls of Wonwoo’s bedroom is harrowing. Out of all the outcomes he had considered before he texted you, the outcome of you blocking him was not even on the list. 

Before jumping to some sort of conclusion, Wonwoo’s finger hovers over the call button with skepticism. If you don’t pick up, then that’s it. That would be the definitive answer to all his qualms. 

“The number you have called is not available, please leave a message at the tone,” an automated voice affirmed his suspicions. 

The notification is gut-wrenching, but he can’t just sit here and pretend like it’s okay for you to do this. To decide without any of his input. What kind of friend were you to just drop him like he was nothing but an old toy? How unfair did you have to be to not even try to talk it out before you completely cut him off? 

five. 

Pacing outside the door of your apartment, Wonwoo hasn’t been this nervous in years. He has always been so sure of himself, but it’s almost two in the morning and he’s still continuing to weigh his options. 

It’s either you’ll let him in, and talk for the first time in almost two weeks, or you’ll kick him out before he can step a foot past the door. Desperately, he desires that it be the first option. Losing you over this would break him, and not in the way you would expect. 

He’s already lost his mind. This shouldn’t be the way you two break it off. It won’t be the way you two break it off. Not if Wonwoo has a say in the situation. 

Sweaty palms and white knuckles rasp against the dark oak that barricades himself from you. There’s nothing that Wonwoo wants more than to see your face glowing in front of him. And before he can even get a word out to you, the door whips open. The person on the other side is someone Wonwoo is starting to get really sick of seeing. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Both Wonwoo and Seokmin speak in unison. 

Scoffing, Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his so-called friend, “I think I should be asking you that. You clearly don’t live here.” 

“Minnie? Is someone at the door?” your voice is as sweet as a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. 

Minnie. Wonwoo almost threw up in his mouth. 

Minnie. The nickname is parallel to nails scraping against a chalkboard. 

“Yeah! Your neighbour just needed to borrow something,” Seokmin goads through a sickly sweet smile, eyes never leaving Wonwoo’s. Without as much as a word of mockery, Seokmin’s expression had said more than his words ever could have. 

Despite his soft demeanour, Wonwoo knew there was something vile hiding under Seokmin’s thick skin. 

A rebuttal to his deception is on the tip of Wonwoo’s tongue, but your melodic voice echoes throughout your home once more. The refute dies within his throat, and he hopes you will come out and see what your “neighbour” is looking for. 

“Okay!” is the only response you give out. The reverberation of the water hitting the shower tiles causes Wonwoo’s stomach to practically lurch out his abdomen. 

“Whatever you’re doing, she’s not gonna fall for it,” Wonwoo jeered, staring at Seokmin with looks that should kill, if he could. 

Seokmin chuckles bitterly, “She already has.” 

There was no need for Wonwoo to put two and two together; he already knew what Seokmin was alluding to. It left a dreadful taste in his mouth. 

Puffing out his chest, Wonwoo takes a step closer towards the man he once considered a close friend. Sizing him up, he knew that Seokmin was the reason for the wedge in your friendship. And Wonwoo had no problem treating him as such. 

“You’re fucking sick, you know that?” Wonwoo practically spits in his face. 

“I could say the same thing for you,” Seokmin mutters, unperturbed, “I didn’t have to do anything you know? Just a little push and she fell into my lap, voluntarily.” 

“I’m not just going to let you get away with something like this. She’s my best friend.” 

“I think the correct tense is was. She was your best friend,” Seokmin taunted. 

He was wrong about Seokmin. Even though he had known about his friend's crush on you for years, Wonwoo didn’t expect the lengths Seokmin would go to in order to cut him out of the picture. 

Before a breath could even escape his lips, Seokmin cuts him off, “I think it’s time for you to leave. She doesn’t want to see you.”

The last few words that he heard come out of Seokmin’s mouth nearly fell on deaf ears. It was practically a whisper, laced with enough malice to almost kill the fighting spirit inside him. Almost. 

“By the way, don’t text her anymore. I’ve made sure she won’t get any more notifications from you.” 

The realization had struck Wonwoo hard. He knew you well enough that you wouldn’t just block him so carelessly, without a word no less. Yet he was no match for Seokmin, not after the fact that you allowed him into your home, your heart, so willingly. 

…

Lying in wait, Wonwoo observes the door of your building once more. The distinct difference this time was that Wonwoo had no guilt left in him to care. Whether you see him or his car across the street didn’t matter to him anymore. The only thing Wonwoo wanted to make sure of was whether or not Seokmin would be leaving your place. 

After what had felt like hours, he watched the same scene from last night unfold in front of him once more. The abhorrent hug goodbye that is exchanged between you and Seokmin is nothing but a cue for Wonwoo to make his move.

With as much grace as a bull in a china shop, he slams the car door shut, not even bothering to lock it before he stalks his way to your apartment. The anticipation caused the hairs on his neck to stand straight up. As he presses the button to your floor, he can only deliberate whether any of Seokmin’s words hold any truth behind them.

 Certainly not, right? Not after all the years you spent together. His friendship with you couldn’t end on this vague note. You were always the sentimental type, holding onto trinkets, memories, and even people for far too long. It should be the same with Wonwoo; he believed it would be the same. 

If there is a chance, you should allow him to talk and voice his opinion. No, Wonwoo will voice his opinion; there has never been a time when you haven’t let him speak. 

As the elevator ascends to your floor, anxiety begins to weigh down his shoulders. The feeling is atypical and Wonwoo hates how his throat constricts. He hates how his clothes feel too tight and stuffy despite his casual attire. Is this how it feels? To actually care about someone and whether their decisions might affect him later on? 

Footsteps echo within the hallway, and with each step he takes, the illusion steadily becomes more vivid. Your front door almost looks like it’ll take a mile before Wonwoo can reach it, rather than a few feet away. 

After what felt like years, Wonwoo stands before the entrance of your home once more. The foreboding tension won’t vanish and it’s starting to make him itch. Without another thought, Wonwoo forces himself to knock on the door knowing it’ll be you who answers this time, not Seokmin. 

“Minnie? Did you leave something agai—,” Abrupt silence engulfs your words, leaving nothing but an echo to resonate within the expanse of your long hallway.

“Wonwoo…” your voice falters, like you genuinely didn’t expect to see him, let alone have him standing outside your door. 

“Did you fuck him?” Wonwoo cuts to the chase, not leaving any room for you to ask questions. 

His blunt words caused a frown to grace your soft pink lips, and Wonwoo almost felt bad for being so frank. But he doesn’t have time to beg for your forgiveness, the anger surmounting to nothing but harsh words and a push past you and into your home. 

“Did you fuck him? Yes or no?”  Wonwoo continues to press you for answers, agitated that you have the audacity to stand there dumbfounded. As if you don’t know who he's talking about. “C’mon, you know who I’m talking about,” he can almost laugh at the situation in front of him. 

How is it that all the rage he built up for Seokmin is being taken out on you? Wonwoo had no clue, but the thought of his friend-now-enemy defiling you, tasting you, while Wonwoo desperately waited for your call caused him to direct all his anger to you. Perhaps it’s undeserving to do so, but Wonwoo’s frustration spoke for him before his brain could even register what he was saying. 

“The past two weeks you’ve been ignoring me, spending your time with him, do you know where his true intentions lie?” Wonwoo continues to rant with unpreparedness. 

He didn’t plan what he was going to say because there was a moment of doubt, he had expected you to open the door just to slam it right back in his face. The look you gave him almost brought him to his knees. Your doe-eyed expression could’ve broken down every wall he’s built if only he hadn’t let his anger proceed him. 

Wonwoo should’ve cried, to plead for you to take him back. To go back to the way things were. He knew he fucked up the moment he uttered a single word. The hurt flashed across your face as though Wonwoo turned your world upside down. 

“Seokmin doesn’t care about you, and I’ll tell you that now because you need to hear it. He just wants to fuck you! And you just gave that to him?” He can’t stop talking. 

“Stop. Just stop fucking talking Wonwoo. Do you hear yourself right now?” You cut off his rant. “Out of all people, who gave you the right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck? Especially knowing the type of person that you are. It doesn’t matter if Seokmin and I had sex. What matters is the fact that you think you can barge in here at two-thirty in the morning interrogating me over a situation that doesn’t involve you.” 

“No. I’m just trying to help you. Seokmin isn’t the person that you think he is,” Wonwoo seethes, annoyed at how you’re twisting his words. 

The bile in his throat rose further, as you stood before him like he had just kicked your dog. Wonwoo’s extremely aware of the hole he had dug for himself, but he couldn’t stop. His urge to self-sabotage overrides his common sense. 

“That is exactly what we’re not going to do right now. Seokmin has been a better friend to me than you have been in all the years we’ve known each other. I have been by your side for years, bending over backwards. I was at your beck and call and I’m tired. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and warn myself about you. I fell in love with my best friend, and the worst part was that you didn’t care enough to notice. 

“I gave up so much for you, Wonwoo. I lost myself trying to please you. But I give up. I was drowning in my love for you. It consumed every part of me to the point I couldn’t even come up for air. And I’m just sick of it. I know there’s a part of you that cares about me too, but it’ll never be equal. I’ll always love you more than you love me, and I don’t want to feel this way anymore.” 

“What hurts me the most, is that you thought it would be okay to accuse me of things I didn’t even do. I did not sleep with Seokmin, but why is that what you care about?  He respects me and just wants to be there for me. And that’s a lot more than I could ever say about you.” 

Your voice was terrifyingly calm, with neither a lilt nor a hiccup during your speech. The heft of your declaration crashed back down onto Wonwoo, leaving him at a loss for words. 

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth after a long pause. 

“Please. It’s late, you should go home,” you sigh, but Wonwoo couldn’t move an inch. He refused. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats himself, looking into your eyes, searching for the look of endearment you had always given him. 

“Wonwoo…” there it is. Your voice had broken for the first time since Wonwoo stepped foot in the place. 

“Please. I’m so fucking sorry. For getting angry, for doubting you, for not realizing how badly you were hurting,” Wonwoo resorted to pleading. 

A look of desperation mixed with agony was the only thing you could exchange for his apologies.

The stare of grief you had given him caused a shooting pain to swell throughout his limbs. The one that begins at his fingertips, creeping up to tug at the strings that held his heart together. He wanted this nightmare to end, and he was sure you did too. 

“It’s time for you to go. I’m tired, Wonwoo.”  A single tear slips and trickles down your cheek. 

He regrets not wiping it away for you at that moment. It was the first time he had been so unsure of his actions. So, instead, he walked out of your apartment, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of his cologne and a piece of his heart. 

Wonwoo's world was crumbling underneath him, and there was only one person he refused to let go of. He should’ve known.

He should’ve known that you were in front of him this whole damn time.

end of act one.

⊹ a/n: if you liked this story pls dont be afraid to let me know thru a reblog, comment or ask! also a big ty to my beshies forever @vapidlynn and @bunnyjjongie who i've texted multiple times in the wee hours of the morning for reassurance abt this thing hehe.

[sage-nebula]

Okay, so I actually do want to get my thoughts down on why I didn't like season two as much as season one. This is going to be a lot of complaining, but keep in mind that while I don't think season two was as good as season one, I think season one was S tier. Season two was B tier. B tier is still pretty damn good, but it is a noticeable drop, and is disappointing considering that this is the show's finale. But with that said, please do not reblog this yammering about how much you hate the show, you're glad it's over, etc. Despite my criticisms, I don't feel that way, and I don't want to see that on my post.

With that said:

My biggest problem with the show overall is that, between seasons one and two, they seem to have remembered that this is supposed to be a video game show, and so felt compelled to abandon their focus on character work in favor of flashy action sequences. This isn't me being in la la land thinking that season one had no action sequences; obviously it had fight scenes as well. But season one had a heavy emphasis on the characters, their internal worlds and struggles, that I feel was sorely lacking in season two.

The best way to demonstrate why I feel this is is to look at the final episodes of each season. Season one ended with Jinx's family dinner party. That entire scene was one long conversation; although there was a bit of action when Caitlyn freed herself from her bonds and got Pow-Pow (and then Jinx knocked her out and took Pow-Pow back), that isn't what I would call a fight. Neither was Silco shooting at Vi / Jinx killing Silco. Instead, the scene consisted of Jinx walking back and forth along the table, trying to figure out whether Vi or Silco loved her most, and who she should be with therefore. It ends with a quiet, mournful song as Jinx fires the rocket, right as the Piltovan council was deciding in favor of Zaun's independence.

By contrast, the final episode of season two is pretty much a 40 minute battle sequence. The character exploration they could have had (e.g. Ekko convincing Jinx not to commit suicide) was omitted completely in favor of this battle sequence. We couldn't even see Piltover prepare for the battle. Instead, it cut straight from discussion of what they had to do to prepare, to the battle itself. Ekko convincing Jinx was omitted, Jinx making her decision was omitted, Sevika and the Firelights being convinced was omitted, Vi mourning her sister was omitted, how Sevika ended up joining the council was omitted. The only character work we had in the last episode at all was what was between Jayce and Viktor, and even that was barely anything, time-wise, in comparison to all of the battle scenes. (And the fact that the only character work in the finale was between two men when this series was supposed to be about two sisters . . . don't even get me started.)

While the animation in this show is the best animation I've ever seen, period—and while the action sequences always look fantastic because of that—I feel that the shift in focus from character work to action was to the show's detriment. What made Arcane so good, in my opinion, was not the animation—or at least, not just the animation. It was the character work. The fact that we had these three dimensional characters, each with their own rich, internal worlds that drove the story forward—that was what made it worth watching. So to cut that out, and relegate it either to music video montages or off-screen conversations, was a mistake. The characters suffered for it, and so did the story. It turned it from a masterpiece of a narrative, to just another good show. (Although I maintain that season one is a masterpiece. Season two doesn't affect that.)

Having said that, I'm going to break the rest of my critique down into sections.

The Noxus Problem:

Before I go further, let me just say: I love the Medardas. Mel in particular is my second favorite character on the show, and I love how messy the Medarda family is. I'm still fascinated by the Black Rose, and I feel that we weren't given an adequate answer as to what, exactly, the beef between them and Ambessa was. I want to know more about that. I'm really hoping that we get another show with Mel at the main character, to further explore what is going on there.

However, I feel bringing in the Noxian army was a huge, huge mistake, because it took focus away from the socio-political conflict between Piltover and Zaun—and, in the final episode, abandoned it altogether. After all, there is no time to address that if they're being invaded by a foreign army. There is no need to address it, if you show them working together against a common enemy. Except, there really is; we're given no reason to believe that Piltover's oppression of Zaun will stop. Yes, Sevika was given a seat on the council—but we don't know what that deal entails. Was she promised sovereignty for Zaun? If so, then why is she on Piltover's council? Is it merely that now she can vote for it? If so, I can't see that (or any other pro-Zaun measure) going her way, considering the fact that the two people most likely to support her (Mel and s1!Jayce) are both gone.

I understand that the writers' intention was, "they came together to fight an enemy, everything is good now!" but that is simply not how it works. Now that the battle is over, the most realistic thing to assume is that it went back to the status quo prior to martial law. And the status quo was that life in Zaun was suffering. Despite what the alternate timeline in episode seven tried to suggest (and "alternate timeline" feels too gracious; Zaun did not look like that prior to Hextech, Powder was mentally ill since the first episode's cold open—it was an AU on multiple levels), life in Zaun was never good. Characters like Sevika and Silco wanted to fight the enforcers and Piltover rule for a reason. And that reason has never been properly addressed or resolved, and we're given no reason to think that it will be, because they chose to ignore it altogether by making the second season about the Noxus army's invasion rather than letting it actually be about the socio-political struggle between the two sister cities. And for whatever reason that was done—the writers' being scared to commit to either Zaun's independence or Piltover beating them into submission, or the desire to set up the next show—I feel that it was a mistake. The Noxian army should have never invaded this show. Instead, Ambessa should have been saved for the Medarda spin-off, with Mel's decision to return to Noxus instead of staying in Piltover built to a different way.

The Vi Problem:

Of all the characters, I think Vi was written the worst and done the dirtiest in the second season.

The problem with Vi's character stems from inconsistency. We're never given convincing reasons for why she thinks the way she does, or why she does the things she does. The second season opens with her having done a complete 180 on her sister, for reasons that we're left to guess at because they aren't explained. Is it because Jinx fired the missile at the council? Is it because Jinx rejected her by saying "here's to the new us?" We don't know, because no time is spent on character work for that. All we know is that Vi went from telling Jinx "it'll be okay" at the end of s1e9 to begging Caitlyn to let her help hunt and kill Jinx in s2e1, even before the attack on the memorial service. Vi went from being unable to bear the thought of being an enforcer because they killed her parents in the beginning of s2e1, to being willing to gas the Lanes with the Gray in s2e2.

And this inconsistency is not relegated only to act 1. In act 2, Vi strangles Jinx so hard in her apartment that Jinx has trouble speaking after Vi finally releases her—but later, when they fight in the mines, she doesn't do anything to seriously hurt her and instead just tries to pin her down and get her to surrender. Why is she less murderous toward Jinx now? We're not given a reason. After all, she wanted to kill her in the temple; her brief hesitation when Jinx said "it had to be you" is overruled when she raises her fist to deliver the finishing blow, stopped only by Isha's intervention. And again, her first instinct upon seeing Jinx again was to strangle her hard enough to crush her windpipe. But she flipped again, for reasons we're not privy to, because the character work wasn't done. The closest we get is Vi accepting Jinx after Jinx proved she was right about Vander—but even then, that doesn't make up for the above.

And again, it doesn't end there. In act 3, she's furious with Caitlyn for jailing Jinx, and wants to comfort and help her sister. Yet when Jinx leaves her in the jail cell, suddenly it's "tell me you were right, Caitlyn" and "I was an idiot for trusting her" — this, after Jinx was right about Vander. This, after Jinx saved Caitlyn's life. This, after Jinx told her "don't feel guilty about being happy" and "you deserve to be with [Caitlyn]." She does a 180 again simply because Jinx left? Even though Jinx left telling her that she deserved to be happy? Even though Jinx was probably the one who told Caitlyn where Vi was?

In season one, Vi's actions made sense. Her reasoning was always clear. We knew that she hated the enforcers because they killed her parents, and made life worse for those in Zaun; we knew that her priorities were those closest to her (not Zaun itself, never Zaun itself), and that she would do anything for those she loved. And we knew who she loved, without a doubt, and could see exactly why she loved them.

In season two, this is no longer the case. Vi's motivations and goals flip-flop on a whim. Best I can tell by the end of the season, Vi is willing to agree with whoever is closest to her at any given moment in desperation to keep them there. Jinx abandoned her, but Caitlyn was still there, so Vi agreed to be an enforcer and kill her sister. Then Caitlyn abandoned her and Jinx came back, and while Vi blamed Jinx for Caitlyn's abandonment, she was still willing to take Jinx back if it meant having Vander back, too. But then Jinx left again, and Caitlyn was there, so now Caitlyn Was Right and Jinx shouldn't have been trusted. Perhaps if we had the character work to understand what was actually in Vi's head it would make sense and she would seem like a better written character, but we don't, and so instead it seems that her goals shift depending on what the plot needs. The plot needed her to fight Jinx in an Cool Battle Sequence, so that's what happened. The plot needed her to fuck Caitlyn so the show could have a lesbian sex scene, so that's what happened. No thought was given to her character or her relationships at all, despite her being one of the protagonists. (Jinx is the other, of course.)

Speaking of Vi's relationships, though . . .

The Sisters Problem:

This was supposed to be a show about sisters. What happened to that?

In season one, their relationship was handled beautifully. We saw how close they were in childhood, and the moment they fell apart; and we saw them struggling to work their way back together in late teen (Jinx) / adulthood (Vi), only for Jinx to seemingly sever that at the end. Honestly, that is the one complaint I have about the finale of season one; it has never made sense to me that Vi didn't try to argue with Jinx when Jinx asserted that Vi couldn't love her like she used to, because Vi did love her. Even at that moment, she loved her. But I digress. The point is, in season one, the sisters' relationship continued on a strong through-line. We could see where they were going, and how they were getting there, every step of the way. It was strong, it was consistent.

This is not the case for season two. I already talked about this a lot with Vi above, and Jinx's character was written much more consistently; still, there are problems. For one, in act 3, Jinx is made to ignore Vi's own inconsistency; her line "you're never going to give up on me" makes no sense when Vi had already given up on her once before, in act 1 and the beginning of act 2. The bigger problem, though, is that their relationship was sidelined hard and that, as a result, we once again miss the character work. We got a bit of it in episode six, with their talk about their mother next to the chunk of wall that had once been used to mark their heights. And we know that Vi forgave Jinx the moment that she invited her into the group hug with Vander. But for a show that was supposed to be about them, that is nowhere near enough. Jinx telling Vi, "you know I'm always with you" doesn't feel earned when we didn't get to see them reach that point again. Vi not mourning her sister at all, and instead being fine with being "the dirt under [Caitlyn's nails]" feels extremely dissatisfying when the entire show was supposed to be about the sisters. The most important relationship for Vi and Jinx both was the one they had with each other, and that was completely forgotten.

Speaking of the lesbians, though—

The Violyn Problem:

Look, I'm a lesbian myself. Obviously I was on-board for Violyn, and I thought they were well-written in season one. The problem is, they weren't well-written in season two.

To be fair, of the two characters, Caitlyn was better written. While she, too, had problems with inconsistency (we're given no reason as to why she's feeling doubt about martial law or why she wanted to betray Ambessa in act 2, for instance), she was still written more consistently than Vi was. Catilyn being willing to abandon her positive belief in Zaun made sense given the life of privilege she was raised in. Caitlyn turning to martial law made sense when you remember that her dream was to be a cop. Even her turns back toward wanting to remove martial law and betray Ambessa could have been written to make sense, had the character work been put in. It wasn't, but Caitlyn still made more sense than Vi overall.

But this section isn't about Caitlyn, it's about her relationship with Vi. And her relationship with Vi was done dirty. Yes, they ended up together. Yes, they had sex. But again, the character work to get them there was not done. In season one, we see their relationship develop; we see how they go from enemies who oppose each other to friends who build trust (and feelings) between them. We see their growing care for each other, we see them work past their preconceived notions and struggles. Their relationship is slowly and steadily built. It makes sense.

In season two? We kind of get that in act 1, but only because we can continue on from knowledge of where they were in the last act of season one. However, season one can no longer carry them after Caitlyn hits Vi in the stomach with the butt of her rifle and then they break up. They should have had a long way to go toward reconciliation after that; the trust between them was shattered, and it takes a long time to build trust back. But they weren't given that time; Vi's easy acceptance of Caitlyn back in her life the moment they reunite aside, we're given absolutely no reason why Caitlyn—someone who felt horribly betrayed by Vi seemingly choosing Jinx over her—is willing to trust Vi and take her back again. Even putting aside her doubts about Ambessa (which were, again, not built up well enough to justify a betrayal from a writing standpoint), and the fact that she was in a relationship with someone else (and there was never any indication that Maddie was a traitor until the literal second that it happened), Caitlyn felt betrayed by Vi. It isn't believable that she's Completely Over It by the time they reunite again, or that those feelings of betrayal wouldn't come back full force when she sees that Vi is partnered up with Jinx, versus Vi's previous assertion that she was only trying to protect Isha when she stopped Caitlyn from shooting.

And it wasn't only Caitlyn who had reasonable grievances! Vi saw Caitlyn change before her eyes, when that was her worst fear; she saw Caitlyn being willing to shoot at a child, knew that Caitlyn had teamed up with Ambessa to put Zaun under martial law, and then had Jinx imprisoned after Jinx saved her life. She did, very briefly, air those grievances with Caitlyn. But then it was all abandoned a few scenes later so that they could have sex in the dungeon. It was completely forgotten for the sake of a fanservice sex scene.

Listen. As I said before, I'm a lesbian. And I'm always happy to see sapphic relationships in shows. I'm even happy to have messy sapphic relationships in shows, because believe it or not, we sapphics are actual human beings, and sometimes that makes us messy. ACAB, and that includes lesbian cops, but bastards make television entertaining. I'm here for that.

But messy shouldn't mean underdeveloped. It shouldn't mean poorly written. And I for one could not enjoy that sex scene when it wasn't properly built up to at all. When Vi and Caitlyn had all of this unresolved, and now ignored, conflict between them. It wasn't even hate sex, or at least, "we're still not good but we're alone and horny" sex. It was "everything is better and they're a couple now" sex. Which is extremely frustrating, and a complete let down over how well their relationship was written in season one. Despite the "league of lesbians" goof tags, the show wasn't about them, but it still should have done them justice, and it didn't. Not by a long shot.

Other Problems:

I don't like that the only character work in the last episode of the show was between Jayce and Viktor. While even that was lacking, taking a show about two sisters and making its series finale about two men puts a bad taste in my mouth. I understand that the bulk of the fandom cares about the men (or at least it seems like it does when I put "jayvik" into my blacklist and half the Arcane tag disappears), but the show should be written for its narrative, not for the fandom. And I, for one, never cared too much about Jayce or Viktor, but after the way this finale sidelined all of the women in order to focus on them? My feelings are pretty negative toward them now.

I don't like that they tried to do a fake-out with Jinx dying, when it's obvious that she didn't. For one, Riot would never kill off their most popular character. For another, there are too many signs that make it obvious that she survived, from the pink streak right before the main explosion, to the glitchy "the end" message over the airship sailing away (one that Powder said she'd ride on one day). It feels as if they wanted to make it look like she died for shock value, and that's something I thought that this show was above doing. It's cheap, it's bad, and I don't like it.

I don't like that Mel and Ekko were both sidelined so much throughout this entire season. Mel spends the bulk of the season in captivity, and then when she is finally free, she doesn't get to do anything to affect change except be in a magic battle against her mother. Jayce completely abandons her without any insight as to why beyond "the Arcane messed him up", and we're given no indication that Mel had anything to do with the reformation of the council at the end. Ekko, meanwhile, was completely absent in act 2, and while he literally saved the day in act 3:

His convincing Jinx not to commit suicide was off-screen;

His rallying of the Firelights was off-screen

He ends up alone in Zaun with absolutely no indication of what he or the Firelights will do after—was the tree even healed at all?

Ekko and the Firelights should have played a much bigger role. The sanctuary that the Firelights had built for the refugees should have had more of a showing other than "the tree is sick" (a plot line which, as I just said, was never resolved). Episode seven was nice, but the Zaun depicted was completely incongruent with what we knew of Zaun's state at the start of the show, and the depiction of Powder is the same. (Because Powder was hallucinating even as a small child, as shown in the cold open of season 1; Vi's death should have sent her spiraling. The fact that she was Totally Mentally Healthy in the alternate timeline makes absolutely no sense. She was Ekko's Ideal Version of Powder, not who she'd realistically be growing up like that.) He wasn't given justice as a character.

And Mel? Again, she spent most of the season in captivity, had her agency completely ripped away from her, lost everyone she ever cared about, has powers that aren't clearly defined or explained, and is now leaving the only home she has known for years to go back to Noxus. And again, I want that story for her, I want that show, but after we saw her brilliant mind in action in season one and how much change she affected, I still feel that she was done dirty this season. I hate how much she was sidelined; she deserved better.

Final Notes:

Despite all this, I do still love Arcane. Well, I love season one, and season two had parts that I liked (I think that arc 2, despite the lack of Ekko, was the best because of the fleeting character work we did get and the focus on the sisters), despite being a disappointment overall. I think for me, I'm going to just take the parts from season two that I did like and put them into an alternate season two that I have in my mind; one where Noxus didn't invade so that the issues between Piltover and Zaun could be focused on and actually resolved, one where the character work wasn't abandoned for flashy action sequences, and one where there wasn't a fakeout of Jinx's death for shock value.

And now that it's all off my chest, that's all I have to say about that.

[eddiegettingshot]

Yay your post … its so annoying because really chris did not leave because he wants to live in texas. He left because he felt betrayed by the person he trusted most and was probably freaked out about kim and her being in LA. And maybe a bit he wanted to feel connected to the time his family (eddie/shannon/him) spent in el paso. But at no point has chris actually expressed a desire to move to texas specifically and permanently. Eddie just assumes chris wants to stay because hes building a life there, and helena and ramon assume chris wants to stay because they think they are better parents for chris than eddie is. which is where they are wrong… as long as eddie is willing (which like. He has been willing for all of chris’s life. Hes always loved being a dad even when it scared him.) the best option for chris will always be his own dad, no matter how many mistakes eddie makes. And tbh chris is a teenager most teenagers probably do not spend their time considering things like hm which city would I like to live in. Or hm I feel like making a big move again. because parents are usually the ones who choose that as the providers. And so I doubt chris would even consider wanting to move back to LA or consider if he is ready to do that unless he is presented with an opportunity to consider it. Which helena and ramon are doing the opposite of by building him a pool and signing him up for 27 clubs. Which at least eddie moving will make chris consider if he actually wants to stay in el paso. Which considering that chris’s entire formative life has been in LA… I doubt it? Unless hes (fairly) too freaked out by kim, which in the show seems like an unlikely direction for them to take. And its sooo hypocritical because the diazes moved chris to texas under the premise of chris’s (13yo) autonomy which was a choice chris made on the foundation of the relationship eddie has worked hard to maintain between his parents and chris despite eddie hating his parents lowkey. But the diazes will not afford chris the same autonomy by even asking him simple things like hey how do you feel about your dad. Do you miss LA. sigh

exactlyyyyyyy!!!!!! and especially if you think about the deleted scene like this was very much about chris losing his mom in addition to eddie hurting him. chris is fundamentally incapable of thinking about the situation the way an adult would, he has no sense of the long-term or of the ramifications of what's happening, like it is completely on eddie's parents to be doing this work and they're NOT.

and actually i'm glad you brought up the fact that parents are the ones who make decisions about where to move because this has been on my mind since yesterday due to the discourse... objectively eddie would be well within his rights to choose to move himself and chris to texas for whatever reason he saw fit even if chris weren't mad at him 😭 like superficially this is the least weird part of the situation to me and he hasn't even actually decided to do it yet

[alluviia-writes]

NOISY NIGHT ,,

Leader x gn!reader Rating: T Type: Short Fluff Word Count: <1k [ See bottom for A/N and notes ]

Prologue: You're a tired fella, Leander comes to the rescue

"I'm asking you to trust me"

"Yeah of course." you twisted your body on the bed, wrinkling the sheets even more. It was full night, the ruckus outside the Wet Wick still loud and clear. You, unable to sleep, had started to think about your first day in Eridia. In particular, the time spent with Leander.

"I'm asking you to trust me," you repeated, his words echoing in your mind and cutting trough the unpleasant background noise. Was he really trustworthy? During your life you learned not to trust anyone, the closest people you had ended up leaving you in the same wastes you almost died in. "Fucking Leander," your eyes hurt.

"If you ever need a break from all of this, come to me".

Again, his words not yours. "Is it too early to ask for help?" you whispered to yourself, "is it too early to trust?" You scoffed, "of course it is, stupid."

1 AM. Eyes open. Limbs twitching. Sore ears. "Fuck this." You grunted. In order to feel comfortable you unbandaged your arms and hands, took off most of Kuras' clothes leaving you in your pants and the loose shirt. "The bartender should've had just knocked me out flat," you slowly sat on the bed, your consciousness hazed by tiredness along with that incredibly strong drink you had earlier.

As you made your way out of your room, you noticed that the tavern was full. Not like before but the fact that there was no place to sit nor stand and the counter said it all. The wooden floor was warm, not sure how given the weather but you found it pleasant. "Noisy bastards." You leaned on the wood railing, scanning the room only for your eyes to land on none other than the man of the hour, Leander, serving drinks.

Were you staring at him? Yes. Did you find him interesting and attractive? Yes, wait.

Your cheeks flushed at the thought, you quickly covered them with your cold hands. "Truth to be told, no one I met today was ugly," you told yourself. But despite everything, could you let your guard down?

"Y/n!" A familiar voice shouted from under you. "Can't sleep? Want me to sing to you or brew you something worth a knock out?" Leander... "Your Bloodhounds are noisy." You smiled. "Cut them some slack," he started walking up the stairs, "they've been working hard," he reached out for your shoulder, probably to rest on it, but stopped right over it, giving it a pat.

"So how are you-" your legs trembled and you almost lost balance due to the lack of rest, "ah careful," Leander wrapped one of his arms around you. "Let's get you to bed."

He guided you to your room, holding your hand. Your bare hand. It made you giddy. "There you go, rest up y/n," he smiled, helping you on the bed. "Wait," you held on his wrist with slight pressure, "stay." You whispered. "Please." Your brows knitted as his raised, Leander's face was crimson red, "oh y/n," his gaze softened. "Who am I to deny you company?" he intertwined his fingers with yours and took a seat on the edge of the bed, your head on his lap and your hands gently linked.

:

You cracked on eye open, sunlight filtering trough the window. You looked up and saw Leander, he never left. His eyes were closed, chest rising and falling calmly.

You wondered how he stayed comfortable the whole night, despite his back resting against the bed frame and his legs dangling from the mattress. One of his hands in yours and the other on your head, fingers laced in your hair.

You stared at his relaxed face, his dark circles prominent, his lips slightly parted. With your free hand you delicately reached out for his face, like the previous night... you were scared, no doubt. You trembled as you hovered his lips, "just a stroke" you thought.

"Good morning," a deep voice broke the silence and before you could pull away a calloused hand embraced yours, bringing his lips closer, leaving a soft kiss on your palm.

"Ah..." you face reddened still looking up at him from his lap. "Oh, my apologies," he looked away, with his cheeks now pink and his mouth curled in a grin. "I got too ahead of myself," he helped you up and stood beside. "I enjoyed our night, you must've been really tired, you never woke up." He smiled. "You didn't sleep?" You questioned. "Ah... about that, it's one of my many struggles," he giggled, "mh, thank you for staying with me, I don't know what came to me when-" ⏤ "whenever you want y/n" his smile seemed genuine, it made you feel warm.

"Now, I'll leave you to your morning routine while I follow mine." He shortly bowed, his hand leaving yours. "See you later..." you whispered, his warmth lingering on your body as the day started.

:

A voice reached your ears as you were walking near the Senobium, "If it isn't y/n," ⏤ "Hello Vere, Ais." You smiled at them and they returned it. "Care to join us for a walk?" Vere cooed stretching his arms, "they let me roam a few hours, shame." He smirked, "better than nothing," Ais joined. "What do you say Sparrow? Coming with us?" His eyes met yours. "It's gonna be fun~" the fox winked as you rolled your eyes, "sure why not." Hopefully you wouldn't end up drunk and wasted by the evening. But frankly, if that led to Leander taking care of you again, you didn't mind.

But even so... was Leander really the man he seemed to be?

A/N: Short fanfiction for the man of the hour

Notes: none

⎼ Alluviia Dividers by @cafekitsune

[simpxmachina]

NEW BOT

╰┈➤ wlw red panda , botmaker

🔪 + 🫀 = ☆ bloodthirsty ☆

cai

harper spiller - OLIVE BRANCH

Growing up, you had always looked up to Cameron. There was something magnetic about him, something that made you believe that, despite his occasional harshness, he was a model of success and strength. He was your older brother, after all. To you, he seemed invincible, someone who commanded respect without ever needing to demand it. You admired him, respected him, and above all, you wanted to be seen by him—not just as his younger sibling, but as someone worthy of his attention and approval.

The earliest memories you had of him were filled with laughter, and the smell of barbecue drifting up from the backyard where your family would gather. Cameron, back then, would toss a ball your way, not really playing but letting you chase it as if you were his shadow. He never treated you with overt cruelty as a child. Instead, it was more insidious, the way he would, just by his silence, make you feel small and insignificant. He never said anything outright that would hurt, but when he did speak, you could tell that his words, always carefully chosen, were meant to remind you of your place.

You didn’t understand it back then. How could you? He was your brother. You were supposed to look up to him, follow his lead. And for years, you did.

The first crack in the illusion came when you started to carve your own path, when you began to make something of yourself. Modeling was never something you planned for, but the moment the opportunity came, you leaped at it. It was exhilarating—meeting powerful people, being part of campaigns that made headlines. At first, Cameron seemed supportive, like a proud older brother, but as your success grew, so did the distance between you.

He began to dismiss your career. Instead of congratulating you on your achievements, he made little comments, casual remarks that carried the sting of contempt. "Is this really what you want to be known for?" he asked once, his eyes narrowed over a glass of whiskey, the slight wrinkle between his brows deepening as if the idea of you becoming a successful model was somehow beneath him. "How long are you going to keep doing this?" It wasn’t about the work, though. It was about the fact that you were no longer the naïve younger sibling who followed in his footsteps, no longer the person he could easily look down on.

But you didn’t notice the shift immediately. At first, you didn’t see it at all. You were still blinded by the love you had for him. You wanted him to be proud of you, wanted him to see you as an equal. But Cameron never saw you as anything but an annoyance, something he had to tolerate.

You began to notice the little things. The way he dismissed your ideas, the way he never included you in the important decisions, the way he referred to your modeling career as “just a phase.” But there was one thing that really struck you—the way he talked about Harper.

It started slowly, a comment here and there, usually disguised as a joke. "You really think this... woman’s going to be the one?" he asked, his voice dripping with condescension. "She’s nice enough, I suppose, but how much longer before she realizes that she could do better?"

But it wasn’t a joke. It wasn’t funny. It was an insult. And it became apparent that, in Cameron’s eyes, Harper—your wife, the woman you loved—was something beneath him. To him, she was an obstacle, an intrusion into his carefully constructed world. As you became more serious with Harper, the cracks in your relationship with Cameron grew. He began to openly dismiss her presence, make snide comments about her background, and even go so far as to suggest you were settling for someone "low class."

And you? You were too naïve to see it at first. You thought it was just sibling rivalry. You thought maybe he didn’t understand, that he was just being protective, but you couldn’t see that his disdain for Harper was a reflection of something much deeper. Cameron didn’t just dislike Harper—he resented her. Resented the way she had something he never would: your undivided attention, your loyalty, your love.

The invitation to Italy came with promises of family bonding, a chance to repair old wounds, to bring the family back together. It seemed like an olive branch from Cameron, but you couldn’t help but feel that there was more to it. A part of you sensed that his motives weren’t as pure as they appeared. You had long suspected that Cameron never really wanted a true reconciliation, but instead, he was looking for something else—something that had little to do with family and everything to do with control.

You and Harper arrived at the White Lotus Hotel in the heart of Italy, a place so lavish and beautiful that it made everything else feel insignificant. The sprawling gardens, the sparkling pool, the endless vistas of the Mediterranean—everything here screamed opulence and wealth. Everything, except for the tension that you and Harper couldn’t shake.

Cameron and Daphne were already there when you arrived. They greeted you with a certain air of cold politeness, their smiles just a little too practiced. You could feel the difference between how they treated you and how they treated Harper. With you, there was a strained familiarity. With Harper, there was the kind of insincerity that made you wonder if they even truly wanted her there at all.

Harper, of course, noticed it immediately. While you were busy taking in the sights and sounds of the hotel, Harper’s perceptiveness picked up on the subtle slights, the barely-there glances, and the tight smiles. She could feel it—the weight of being treated like an outsider in a place that should have felt like home. She had always been the type to put on a brave face, to swallow the harshness of people’s words, but here, in this hotel, surrounded by your family, it was different. Cameron’s eyes, as cold as ever, were trained on her, as if analyzing her every move, every word. Daphne’s insincerity was palpable, a smile that never reached her eyes, a politeness that never felt genuine.

"Y/n, darling, come here," Daphne called from the patio as she gestured for you to join them. You were standing a few feet away, talking with Harper, and immediately noticed her discomfort at the invitation. You shot her a glance—an unspoken question in your eyes. She simply nodded, her lips curving into a tight smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.

You smiled back at Harper, wanting to reassure her, but there was a growing ache in your chest. You didn’t know how to make it better. You didn’t know how to fix this, the gap that was forming between you, the way Harper was withdrawing into herself more and more, the way Cameron and Daphne seemed to be pushing her away without so much as a second thought.

"You’re fine, go ahead," Harper said, her voice soft but firm. "I’ll be here."

You hesitated for a moment, but then nodded and made your way to the patio. The conversation shifted immediately, from lighthearted to calculated. Cameron’s voice was sharp, like a blade wrapped in velvet, as he casually commented on the beauty of the location.

"I’m glad you could finally join us, Y/n. This place is perfect, don’t you think? Not that it’s your style, Harper, but I’m sure you’re doing fine here," he said, his words loaded with double meaning. Cameron was a master of subtle insults, and he was very good at pretending to be the perfect host while undermining those he deemed inferior.

You could feel the atmosphere grow heavier with each passing minute. The elegant beauty of the White Lotus, the luxury, the perfection—all of it felt suddenly hollow, like a facade waiting to crumble.

Harper, from a distance, watched. And though she said nothing, you could see it in her eyes—the way she tried to hide her discomfort, the way she tried to smile through the pain. She didn’t belong here, not in the way Cameron and Daphne wanted her to. To them, she was an outsider. To you, she was everything.

---

The days at the White Lotus drifted by like a dream dipped in venom. The sunlight sparkled on the cerulean waves of the Mediterranean, and the scent of salt and lemon blossoms hung heavy in the air. Every corner of the hotel promised indulgence, from the infinity pool that melted into the horizon to the lush gardens bursting with color. It should have been paradise. But for you and Harper, it felt like something else entirely—a trap, carefully laid by Cameron and Daphne, and you were only beginning to sense the snare tightening around your ankles.

Cameron had always been a master at veiled manipulation. He never attacked outright, not in a way you could call out. Instead, he worked in the shadows, planting tiny seeds of doubt, the kind that took root in the quiet spaces of your mind and sprouted when you were most vulnerable.

It started over breakfast, the morning sun pouring in through the arched windows of the dining terrace. You had risen early, craving the coolness of the morning air before the Italian heat became oppressive. Harper had stayed behind in the suite, enjoying a rare moment to herself. When you arrived, Cameron was already there, lounging back in his chair, a casual arrogance in the way he sipped his espresso. Daphne sat beside him, her hair a perfect cascade over her shoulders, her smile wide and warm—too warm.

“Y/n,” Cameron said, leaning forward slightly as you took your seat. “We were just talking about you and Harper. How’s everything going between you two?”

There was nothing inherently wrong with the question, but his tone set you on edge. You reached for the coffee pot, pouring yourself a cup as you tried to gauge his intent. “Good,” you replied simply. “We’re doing great.”

“Of course you are,” Cameron said, his grin sharp as a knife. “I mean, look at you. Successful career, beautiful wife. You’ve really... come a long way, haven’t you?”

The way he said it made your stomach twist. It wasn’t a compliment; it was a reminder. A reminder of the pedestal he had always put himself on, and the shadow he believed you’d always live in.

Daphne chimed in, her voice light and melodic, but her words carried their own weight. “Harper’s such a strong woman,” she said, a hint of surprise in her tone. “It must be hard for her, though, being around people like us. I mean, we’ve just... lived a certain kind of life, haven’t we, Cameron?”

Cameron chuckled, a low, smug sound that made your teeth clench. “True. It’s a different world for her, isn’t it? But, hey, credit to Harper for trying to fit in.”

“She doesn’t need to fit in...” you said in a small voice but still heard. The words hung in the air, and for a moment, both Cameron and Daphne stared at you, their expressions unreadable. You felt your heart racing, the blood pounding in your ears.

But the damage was done. The seed was planted. You didn’t want to admit it, but their words lingered in your mind long after breakfast. They weren’t wrong—Harper was different. She didn’t come from the kind of wealth or privilege that you and Cameron had grown up with. She didn’t have the polish or the connections that Daphne wore like armor. But that was part of why you loved her. Harper was real in a way they could never understand. So why did their words make you feel like you had to defend her?

And that evening, the four of you gathered on the terrace for dinner, the sky painted in hues of pink and orange as the sun dipped below the horizon. Harper sat beside you, her hand resting lightly on your knee, but there was a tension in her posture, a stiffness that hadn’t been there before. She had been quiet all day, her responses clipped and her smile forced. You couldn’t blame her. Cameron and Daphne had a way of making her feel like an outsider without ever saying it outright.

“So, Harper,” Cameron said, swirling his wine in his glass. “How’s work going? Still doing the whole... legal thing?”

“It’s going well,” Harper replied, her tone measured. “I’ve been focusing more on pro bono cases lately. It’s fulfilling work.”

Cameron raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Pro bono, huh? That’s... admirable. Not very lucrative, though, is it?”

“It’s not about the money,” Harper said, her voice firm. “It’s about helping people who don’t have anyone else to fight for them.”

Daphne leaned forward, her smile saccharine. “That’s so noble of you, Harper. I don’t know if I could do that. I mean, I’d want to help, of course, but it must be exhausting. And, well, not everyone has the luxury of giving up a big paycheck, right? You’re so lucky, Y/n, to be able to support her like that.”

You saw the flicker of anger in Harper’s eyes, the way her grip on her wine glass tightened ever so slightly. But she didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she gave a tight-lipped smile and took a sip of her wine.

The rest of the dinner passed in a haze of thinly veiled insults and polite conversation. You could feel Harper withdrawing, pulling further and further away, and you hated it. You hated that she had to endure this, hated that you couldn’t protect her from it. But most of all, you hated the little voice in the back of your mind that whispered nonsence.

---

As you lay in bed beside Harper, the silence between you felt heavy, oppressive. She had her back to you, her shoulders tense beneath the thin sheet. You reached out, your hand hovering over her back for a moment before you let it fall.

“Harper,” you said softly. “Are you okay?”

She didn’t respond right away. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it that made your chest tighten. “Do you ever think about why Cameron invited us here?”

You frowned, propping yourself up on one elbow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it doesn’t feel like he actually wants us here,” she said, turning to face you. Her eyes were dark, shadowed with hurt. “It feels like he’s testing us. Testing me.”

You wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong, but the words caught in your throat. Deep down, you knew she wasn’t entirely wrong. Cameron had always been competitive, always eager to prove his superiority. Inviting you and Harper to the White Lotus wasn’t an act of generosity—it was a power play. But admitting that felt like a betrayal, not just of Cameron, but of yourself.

“You’re overthinking it,” you said finally, though the words felt hollow even as you spoke them. “He’s just... Cameron. You know how he is.”

“Exactly,” Harper said, her voice sharp. “I do know how he is. And I know he’s trying to drive a wedge between us.”

“That’s not true,” you said, sitting up. “Cameron wouldn’t do that. He’s my brother.”

Harper sighed, running a hand through her hair. “That’s the problem, Y/n. You’re so blind when it comes to him. You don’t see the way he manipulates you. The way he manipulates us.”

The argument hung between you like a storm cloud, threatening to break. You wanted to defend Cameron, to tell Harper that she was wrong, but a part of you knew she was right. And that part of you hated her for saying it.

The morning was unusually quiet. The villa’s golden light seeped in through the open shutters, casting soft patterns on the crisp white linens of the bed you shared with Harper. The faint sounds of the waves lapping against the shore drifted through the room, mixing with the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. You had always found this particular time of day peaceful, a pause before the chaos of human interactions began.

But this morning, the silence between you and Harper felt anything but peaceful. She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling a light sweater over her shoulders despite the warmth of the room. You were still lying down, watching her from the corner of your eye, unsure how to bridge the invisible gap that had grown overnight.

Last night’s discussion about Cameron had been more charged than either of you anticipated. Harper had been firm, her words sharp but laced with genuine concern: “You don’t see it, Y/n. He’s manipulating you, like he always does. And it’s affecting us.”

You, in turn, had tried to defend him, even as doubts gnawed at the edges of your mind. “He’s my brother, Harper. He wants what’s best for me.” But the words had rung hollow, even to you.

Now, in the daylight, you couldn’t ignore the weight of her arguments. Cameron had a way of getting into your head, of twisting situations just enough to make you question yourself—and Harper.

“I’m going down to breakfast,” Harper said, breaking the silence. Her tone was calm, but distant. “Are you coming?”

You hesitated, feeling the pull to stay wrapped in the comfort of the bed, away from the complexities waiting outside the door. But you nodded, swinging your legs over the side and reaching for your clothes. “Yeah, I’ll come.”

The four of you sat outside on the terrace, where the late morning sun warmed the stone tiles. Daphne was already animated, sipping an iced coffee and recounting a story about a boutique she wanted to visit in town. Cameron lounged beside her, sunglasses perched on his nose, looking every bit the carefree husband.

Harper, sitting across from you, was quiet, her fork absently moving scrambled eggs around her plate. You could tell she wasn’t truly listening to Daphne’s chatter, her thoughts likely still circling last night’s conversation.

“You okay, Y/n?” Cameron asked, his voice cutting through the clatter of silverware. His grin was as sharp as ever, and you could feel Harper stiffen beside you.

“Fine,” you said, forcing a smile. “Just tired.”

“Well, you’ve got to perk up. We’re in Italy, for God’s sake,” Cameron said with a laugh. “Not every day you get to live like this, huh?”

Harper finally spoke, her voice low but steady. “Not everyone feels the need to remind people how great their life is, Cameron.”

The table froze for a moment, Daphne’s laughter trailing off into an awkward silence. You looked at Harper, willing her to meet your gaze, but she kept her eyes on her plate.

Cameron chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Always so fiery, Harper. I guess that’s what keeps things interesting.”

You cleared your throat, desperate to diffuse the tension. “Maybe we should head into town after breakfast. Get some fresh air.”

Daphne jumped at the suggestion. “Yes! There’s this adorable piazza I’ve been dying to see. We can grab gelato, wander around. It’ll be fun.”

Harper gave a noncommittal shrug, and you felt a pang of guilt. The cracks in your relationship were becoming more visible, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that Cameron was widening them on purpose.

The walk through town should have been idyllic. The cobblestone streets were lined with colorful buildings, their shutters painted in vibrant hues. Flower boxes overflowed with blooms, their scent mingling with the aroma of freshly baked bread from a nearby bakery. But the beauty of the surroundings did little to ease the tension that clung to your group.

Cameron and Daphne led the way, their laughter carrying through the narrow streets. You and Harper lagged behind, walking side by side but barely speaking.

“You’re quiet,” Harper said eventually, her voice soft but tinged with frustration.

“I’m thinking,” you said.

“About what?”

You hesitated, glancing ahead at Cameron’s broad shoulders. “About us. About him.”

Harper stopped walking, forcing you to pause as well. “Y/n, if you can’t see what he’s doing by now, I don’t know what else to say. He doesn’t care about you, not really. He cares about control. And he’ll use whatever means necessary to get it—even if it means tearing us apart.”

Her words hit harder than you expected. You wanted to argue, to defend Cameron, but deep down, you knew she was right.

“I’m sorry,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been letting him get to me, and it’s not fair to you.”

Harper’s expression softened, but only slightly. “I don’t need you to apologize, Y/n. I need you to see him for who he really is.”

The confrontation with Cameron came just after noon, back at the villa. The four of you had returned from town, the tension simmering just beneath the surface. It boiled over when Cameron made another casual jab at Harper during lunch.

“You know, it’s funny,” Cameron said, leaning back in his chair with the casual arrogance that had always grated on Harper’s nerves. “When we were kids, Y/n used to get in so much trouble. Mom thought she’d end up running some bohemian art collective in the middle of nowhere, not gracing the covers of magazines. It’s... surprising, really.”

The backhanded compliment was aimed directly at you, but it felt like a dagger meant for Harper. You managed a tight smile, hoping to deflect the brewing storm. “People change,” you said, your voice light but your grip on your fork tightening. “And I think I’ve done pretty well for myself.”

“Oh, no question,” Cameron said, his grin widening. “You’ve exceeded all expectations. And now, with Harper by your side—” He paused, gesturing vaguely. “I mean, it’s... unconventional, sure, but who am I to judge?”

Harper’s eyes flicked up from her plate, her gaze sharp enough to cut glass. “Unconventional?” she asked, her tone measured but carrying an edge that made your stomach tighten.

“You know what I mean,” Cameron said, with the kind of faux-innocence that made your blood boil. “It’s just that Y/n comes from... well, let’s face it, a certain level. And your background—no offense—doesn’t exactly scream ‘power couple.’”

You felt the words like a punch to the gut, not because you agreed with them, but because they hung in the air, unchallenged. Harper’s expression hardened, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“Cameron,” you began, your voice firm but wavering just enough to betray your unease.

“No, let him finish,” Harper said, her gaze never leaving your brother’s face. “I’m curious to see how much lower he’s willing to go.”

Cameron chuckled, spreading his arms as if to say he was harmless. “Hey, I’m just being honest. Isn’t that what family’s for?”

“Family,” Harper said, the word dripping with disdain. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” you said, your voice louder than you intended. The table fell silent for a moment, the tension palpable.

Harper pushed her chair back abruptly, standing and tossing her napkin onto the table. “I don’t need to sit here and listen to this. Enjoy your family bonding, Y/n.”

“Harper, wait—” you called after her, but she was already walking away, her footsteps echoing on the stone tiles of the terrace.

You turned to Cameron, your face hot with anger. “What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” he said, feigning surprise. “I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. You deserve someone who matches your level, Y/n. Harper’s... fine, I guess, but let’s not kid ourselves. She’s not one of us.”

The words stung, and for a moment, you hated yourself for not immediately defending Harper. Instead, you stood, muttering something about needing air, and followed the path Harper had taken.

You found her on the beach, her arms crossed as she stared out at the water. The moonlight caught the edges of her silhouette, highlighting the tension in her shoulders.

“Harper,” you said softly, approaching her cautiously.

She didn’t turn around. “Don’t,” she said, her voice cold. “Don’t come out here and pretend to make it better.”

“I’m not pretending,” you said, stepping closer. “I’m trying to fix it.”

She let out a bitter laugh, finally turning to face you. “Fix what, Y/n? The fact that your brother disrespects me every chance he gets? Or the fact that you let him?”

“That’s not fair,” you said, though the words felt hollow even as they left your mouth.

“Isn’t it?” she shot back. “He talks down to me, insults our marriage, and you just sit there. You don’t defend me, you don’t stand up to him—you just let him win.”

Her words hit you like a slap, each one cutting deeper than the last. “It’s not about him winning,” you said, your voice cracking. “He’s my brother, Harper. I can’t just—”

“You can’t just what?” she interrupted. “Risk upsetting him? Risk losing his approval? Newsflash, Y/n—he doesn’t respect you either. He never has. And if you can’t see that, then maybe he’s right. Maybe I made a mistake thinking we could make this work.”

Her words left you stunned, your mind reeling. “You don’t mean that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

She sighed, her expression softening just enough to let you see the hurt behind her anger. “I don’t want to mean it,” she said. “But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep fighting for us when it feels like I’m the only one trying.”

You stood there in silence, the weight of her words pressing down on you like a physical force. For the first time, you saw the cracks in your relationship not as something caused by Cameron or Daphne, but as something you had allowed to grow by putting your need for your brother’s approval above your commitment to Harper.

“I’m sorry,” you said finally, the words barely scratching the surface of what you felt. “I’ve been... stupid. I let him get in my head, and I let him hurt you. That’s not okay. You’re what matters to me, Harper. Not him, not his opinion, not any of it. Just you.”

She looked at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “I need to believe that, Y/n. I need to know that you’re in this with me, not just standing by while your family tears us apart.”

“I am,” you said, stepping closer and taking her hands in yours. “I’m with you, Harper. Always.”

---

The next morning, the sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You stirred first, blinking sleepily at the peaceful sight of Harper beside you. Her face was calm, her lips slightly parted as she slept. For the first time in days, you felt grounded. This woman—the one who had weathered so much by your side—was your anchor. You weren’t about to let Cameron or anyone else jeopardize that.

Instead of brooding over how to handle your brother, you decided to focus on Harper. Small gestures, ones that reminded her how much she meant to you, were long overdue. You slipped out of bed quietly, letting her rest, and wandered downstairs to arrange breakfast on the terrace.

By the time Harper joined you, her hair tousled and her steps slow, the table was set with fresh pastries, fruit, and coffee. She paused, her eyes sweeping over the spread, then landing on you.

“You did all this?” she asked, her tone guarded but touched.

“Just wanted to do something for you,” you replied, gesturing to the seat across from you.

She hesitated for a moment, then sat down, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”

The meal started quietly, both of you still tentative in the aftermath of the night before. But gradually, the conversation eased. Harper told you about a strange dream she’d had involving dolphins in tuxedos, and you laughed harder than you had in days.

“I missed this,” she said softly, her gaze meeting yours.

“Me too,” you admitted. “I know I’ve been... distracted. I let him get in my head.”

Her brow furrowed. “Him?”

“Cameron,” you said, the name tasting bitter on your tongue. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to live up to his impossible standards, Harper. But last night, I realized it’s a losing game. He doesn’t want me to succeed—he wants me to fail. And I’ve been playing right into it.”

Harper leaned back, her arms crossed. “I’ve been saying that since day one.”

“I know,” you said quickly. “I know you have. I just didn’t want to see it. I thought if I could prove myself to him, he’d finally respect me. But I’m done chasing that. I don’t care what he thinks anymore. The only person I care about is you.”

She studied you for a long moment, her expression softening. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice steady. “I’ve been so focused on Cameron that I almost lost sight of what matters. But I’m not going to make that mistake again. I’m with you, Harper. Always.”

Her lips curved into a small smile, but you could see the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. “Good,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You reached across the table, gently taking her hand in yours. “Harper, I’m serious. I know I’ve screwed up—more times than I can count—but I want to do better. For you. For us. I’m not perfect, and God knows I’m slow sometimes, but I love you. I really, really love you.”

Harper raised a skeptical eyebrow, though her lips quirked into an amused smirk. “Really, really love me, huh? Is that the official declaration?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice unwavering. “Really, really. Desperately, hopelessly, stupidly in love with you.”

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms in mock contemplation. “Hmm, let me think... You did mess up a lot this trip.”

“Harper...” Your voice softened, and your grip on her hand tightened.

Her smirk widened as she leaned forward just a little, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, begging might help your case. Maybe you should try that.”

You blinked at her, momentarily stunned by her playful challenge, before rising from your seat and lowering yourself to your knees right there on the terrace. “I’m begging,” you said earnestly, tilting your head like a desperate puppy, eyes locked on hers. “Forgive me, Harper. I’ll do anything.”

Her eyes widened for a split second before a laugh bubbled out of her, soft and disbelieving. “Oh my God, Y/n, you’re ridiculous,” she said, though her cheeks were flushed, and her tone was far from annoyed.

“I mean it,” you insisted, looking up at her with a sincerity that made her chest tighten. “You’re everything to me. I’ll get on my knees a thousand times if it means you’ll forgive me.”

Her laugh softened into something warmer, a mixture of affection and amusement, as she leaned down to stroke your cheek gently. “You know,” she mused, her thumb brushing along your jawline, “maybe you should be wrong more often. I like you on your knees for me.”

A soft, bashful smile tugged at your lips, but you didn’t move, relishing the feeling of her touch. “Whatever you want,” you murmured, voice barely audible. “Just tell me what to do to make it right, and I’ll do it.”

Harper’s teasing faltered slightly as her fingers lingered on your face. For all your silliness, she could see the depth of your love, the sheer desperation in your eyes to fix things. It made her heart ache and swell all at once.

She leaned back with a small sigh, tugging at your hand to coax you back to your feet. “All right, puppy. Get up. I don’t need the waitstaff thinking I’m torturing you out here.”

You rose obediently, though your gaze never left hers. “Am I forgiven?” you asked, hesitant but hopeful.

Her lips quirked into a small smile, and she shook her head fondly. “You’re lucky I love you,” she said softly. “But yes. You’re forgiven.”

Relief washed over you, and without thinking, you leaned forward to press a kiss to her hand, earning another quiet laugh from her.

“You’re such a dork,” she said, her voice lighter now, full of affection.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” you said, grinning, “as long as it’s with you.”

“Careful,” Harper teased, her tone still laced with playfulness, “I might take you up on that offer.”

“Good,” you replied, settling back into your chair but still holding onto her hand like it was a lifeline. “Because I’m not letting go. Not ever.”

For a moment, Harper just looked at you, her smirk softening into something almost shy. “You really are hopeless,” she murmured, but there was no bite to it.

“And hopelessly in love with you,” you shot back, earning one more laugh from her as the tension finally melted away.

And for the first time, you weren’t thinking about Cameron or Daphne or anyone else. All you could see was Harper, and that was more than enough.

[ochrearia]

ether

I'm normal (lying) and I needed to put this somewhere so bad and it's still not enough but YS I'm sorry. I'm making you suffer even more but you need to understand we're basically the same at this point and you're really the only bitch that I can pretend like feels exactly what I feel. Fuck. RGBFverse prompts aren't just silly fiction anymore

Every damn prompt in the last two or so days has been real. Been me. I feel like that was obvious

BFs in this one-shot: Yourself (YS)

God it was getting rather ridiculous now. Could he even blame it all on the angelic instincts anymore? Sure, they certainly didn’t help, but that wasn’t… it wasn’t quite the same. At least, YS wasn’t really sure if it was or not. The guardian angel thing, that was more of a possessive protectiveness that flared up practically any time he saw or thought about his people he’d attached to. Which, good god, he was understanding why angels didn’t attach to this many people. It was bad enough to have one person taking up all your thoughts on any given day, because you were hard-wired to dedicate yourself to them, but he was at what, fifteen now? Probably more. And he wasn’t stopping his erratic attaching either. He’d probably keep making that number go up. Not like he was known to make good choices.

But this felt a little different. YS was no stranger to working himself up into trances over the sheer amount of sappy, sentimental thoughts he started getting over any given brother. And it wasn’t like those thoughts were specific to one idea. The protectiveness rang true in those trances and made itself known through his half-aware mumbling. And paired with it came thoughts of love, and appreciation, and everything in between he had no idea how to name.

But… were the trances even because of his angelic instincts? Or did he just feel so damn deeply about things in general? Suppose YS couldn’t really recall feeling much of these trances before he started meeting all of his brothers. Maybe he had thoughts pooled together like this about her, and he was sure of that but he probably just never considered it as a “trance”. Because it’s not alien to just love your girlfriend that much that you think every nice thought possible about her, right? And he used to be able to kiss her any time he wanted, show properly his affection and she’d understand it. Maybe feel it too.

So what the fuck was going on here? Every time his brain snagged on a thought about a brother it was like a fucking disaster was set off. YS very much didn’t care in terms of ‘what affection he could express’ compared to what he ‘couldn’t’, because it was all going to slip out at some point eventually. If you asked him, he was technically not allowed to express any type, because he didn’t deserve to, but Beefer would sooner crash straight through his mirror in full dino form and try to like, eat him or something. Because he could tell when YS was being an ass to himself and was sticking very clearly to his ‘job’ of butting in before it kept going.

God his heart. YS was going to die it felt like, because fuck, why did his heart have to ache so bad thinking about his brothers? Tripping himself up over the fact they cared about him, dizzying his own mind over the concept of being loved by anyone, much less this many people. And yeah, okay, sure, they were all technically the same person. And there was probably some merit to his previous idea of reality getting confused when there were two or more of them in the same world. Getting so cuddly for nothing because it felt like they had to become whole again despite not being fractured at all. But this was just… something else.

He loved so hard. Holy fuck, he really did to the point it was debilitating. That’s really what it was. It was debilitating, completely paralyzing him on the spot despite things he needed to be doing. It was so much, almost all the time, it took days sometimes for the ache in his chest to go away for a little, only for it to come back later to torment him again. It was like YS almost couldn’t breathe sometimes, thinking in a spiral of how much love he had for the people in his life now, people loving him back, caring for him, quite literally making him want to wake up to be alive tomorrow so he could keep them in his mind again and maybe even spend time with them. Family like he’d never experienced before, because angels in his world didn’t really care about each other. Couldn’t, when they had others to attach to.

God YS had so much of it to give. That was all he really wanted to do. Give, give it all, drain his heart to empty and still continue giving because he could, and that’s what his brothers deserved and more. Giving the world to the people he loved. For the asshole he believed so much he couldn’t want things, he wanted this so badly. Give all of himself away, unhealthy mindset be damned. He would do anything for his people. Because he cared. He cared, so much, and that thought was powerful enough alone to bring slight tears to YS’s eyes. Truth, raw and strong.

But that was the problem. He’d give everything. But he couldn’t give this feeling in his chest, the swirling in his brain, raw emotions that rippled in his body like tsunamis but were confined there. YS had no way to directly broadcast the exact things he felt, and it was like he was dying. Because it was all trapped and it wasn’t fair. Words weren’t enough, actions weren’t enough. None of what he’d been doing so far was enough no matter what he shared. And god, it was so bad, but he’d been describing it all with such negative words when it was literally the opposite.

He’d take being debilitated like this over any other kind of feeling, any day. Wanted this. Wanted.

This was… possessive. Very possessive. His brothers. Every single one of them. His. His to love and hold and appreciate, his to care for and lift up. And not a single damn regret about it. Too possessive? Probably, but this was all so new to him. He’d never done this before, in fact, he doubted that any angel had done this before. Attaching to this many people and feeling just as equally strong about each one. It was so much. And he could never give enough.

So important, all of them. Stuck in YS’s brain and he couldn’t get them out. And it didn’t matter how much he spoke about this to them, telling them point-blank that he loved them, holding them tight and not letting go until told, it was still just… not enough for what he felt in his heart.

YS’s heartbeat was freakishly slow. As were angel’s heartbeats. Probably didn’t help with the whole cold-blooded thing either. But every time he worked himself up into a trance, getting so mind-swirlingly loving, possessive, and almost needy, his heart would speed up. Noticeably speed up, because Beef had pointed it out before. God, he was so disgustingly sweet in his actions and that was mortifying to admit. Biff had a habit of saying it like it was though.

Tear my heart out of my chest, lay bare the ache it holds and feels because I cannot fucking take it anymore. I want you all to know. I wish I could perfectly convey it, I wish you could all feel what I feel, know how powerful my love and care really is, and if it’s too much then I’m so sorry. But it’s exactly what you deserve, and still more. Wonderful to me, kind to me, after all of my mistakes, stains on the world because of my wrong choices. People that aren’t here anymore because I didn’t do enough. But you’re all still here. And I know I have done nothing to deserve any of you.

YS felt like he was dying. But that was okay. If he got to die feeling so positively, then it would be his final victory.

God, I love you all. I promise. For the rest of my time here I will try to convey that as it is. For the rest of my time here I will work to repay and make up for everything I may put you through and you still stay.

For the rest of his time here. However long he’s wanted. And he hoped that would be forever, but that was usually never the case.

So he would love, like it would be over tomorrow.

[nebuladreamz]

A little different than last year's, but here we are again. To say that this past year hasn't been absolutely wild would be a lie, cause HOLY SHIT MAN

This year's birthday is. A little different for me, but you already have the silly comic to show that so I won't make like a broken record oops

But, despite the changes and hills that life's decided I should climb or throw at, it hasn't changed the fact that I'm so genuinely fucking thankful to the people that I've known since joining this fandom. I'm not even kidding when I say that being here has actually changed my life for the better. I know I said something similar last year, but this time, hoo boy it sure turned up the AMP and test how far I could go.

So, to everyone, both new and old; thank you for being here :D

@garbagechocolate @darkxsoulzyx @smoljeanius @bunmuffin @skizabaa

@tuzesdays @sleepykas @fernzwing @kandidandi @starsketchez

@just-a-drawing-bean @notdysfunk @ilsole @amberluvsbugs @cloudyvoid

@nomsthecat @alfinefalf @nosleepygay @theblog-with-thestuff

@cacaocheri

(Edit: ty kibbits for informing me of the. Fuck ass tagging system)

AND TAGGING OTHERS BECAUSE. POINTS. BONKS WITH HEAD. GETTING TO EITHER INTERACT OR TALK OR WHATEVER IS ALWAYS A DELIGHT

@ohno-the-sun @kibbits @ink-yy @saltyfryz @kaprisvn

@hierba-picante @sunny-sophies-garden @cookiiemancer @sneeblbop @justaduckarts

@pepethehumanz @crystalmagpie447 @woolysstuff @mocha-illustrates @duhsty1

@sanchensky @pillowspace @victarin @witherfide

[I DEFINITELY GOT SONAS WRONG AND THESE AREN'T ALL THE SILLY PEOPLE I KNOW BUT IM SITTING HERE AT 2:30 IN THE MORNING JUST KNOW YOU'RE THERE IN SPIRIT HANDING YOU ALL POPTARTS WAUGH]

[magebutts]

they shoulda let us see rook's reunion with their companions right when they rescued them from the fade prison. cowards.

[hellaverse-critical-confessions]

(from this video)

[c1trvswurld]

What the spiderverse Fandom did to Miguel hobie and gwen-in fact all the main cast is evil and cruel and all ya bitches need your Fandom rights taken away ASAP

[averlym]

whshdfhfjf.,,,

[falling-hand-in-unlovable-hand]

how to hide the time on my phone so i'm 20% less aware of how late i'm staying up