#he's the kind of person to make friends with everyone

[knitmeapony]

In light of Anita Bryant's death I think we should also remember Thom Higgins, a true badass whose name is always tied to hers.

Yes, he's the fella who put a pie in her face on national TV.

But this wasn't a one time thing for him -- being a badass, I mean. He also once pie'd an Archbishop (John Roach - who was one of the Catholics who fucked up one of the sexual abuse scandals the church had).

He's largely credited for inventing the term 'gay pride': "The term “gay pride” was invented here. Thom Higgins had been raised in the Catholic Church and decided to come up with a means of countering the negative energy coming out of the church. So he paired two of the deadly sins: gay and pride."

He was deeply midwestern -- "He was the kind of person who would breeze into a friend’s kitchen the morning after a party, put on a pot of coffee and start making everyone eggs"

He was an anti-war protestor, and the first person in Minnesota to be registered as a conscientious objector during the Vietnam War.

He wasn't perfect, but he did a lot of good in his life, and he was silly and puckish and loved pranks as much as he loved his activism.

He died 20 years ago of complications related to AIDS.

While you're crab raving that the Orange Juice witch is dead, spare a thought and raise a slice of pie to Mr. Higgins. More people should know about him.

[joonsytip]

Something About You || Woozi

Pairings: Woozi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Lawyer!Woozi, Event Coordinator!Reader, Selective Amnesia au, Secret Relationship au

Synopsis: When your boyfriend loses all memories of you after an accident, you go through hell of a time trying to bring back the memories. But in the process of convincing him what you both had was real, it makes you question if what you both had was ever real.

Warnings:  jihoon is outright blunt and asshole, mentions accident, jihoon suffers selective amnesia, reader has astraphobia, relationship is hidden and based on rebound, one fighting scene, jihoon gets beaten by umbrella, oral (f. recieving), fingering, dirty talks, rough sex.

Word Count: 11.5k

Thanks to @cherriegyuu for beta reading this ♡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🔞

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

The look Jihoon gives you is condescending. He believes that whatever you said just now is the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard.

"I know it's hard to believe but it's true that I'm your girlfriend."

You repeat, biting back the tears.

The doctor takes pity on you and attempts to make his patient understand his current medical situation quoting it in most layman terms possible.

"Mr. Lee, you have been in an accident and that has caused internal bleeding in your brain. I'm not going into details but that has caused neural damage.", he continues solemnly, "Since you can't recognize your partner, we have run some tests and it indicates that you're suffering from amnesia."

Suddenly the door barges open and enters Soonyoung, Jihoon's friend and most probably the only one on his side who knows about your relationship.

Jihoon's eyes light up as he recognizes his friend and the realization dreads upon you.

"It's selective amnesia.", the doctor explains, carefully studying your expression, "Mr. Lee has forgotten all the memories you've shared."

Soonyoung stands up, his entire demeanor masked in disbelief, "How is that possible? He recognised everyone when I showed him the pictures! How can he not remember his girlfriend?"

"We can't give you an exact explanation but it's possible that before the accident happened Mr. Lee was thinking about her. "

You fiddle your fingers, tears wetting your cheeks and chin. Taking a deep breath, you ask, "Is there a possibility he can remember me or am I erased from his mind forever?"

You choke a sob. 

"There are cases where the patients have recovered their memories. It can take two days, two weeks, two years or even two decades. There's no certainty. In some cases", the doctor relents, "they never got their memories back. I'd suggest you revisit familiar places, re-watch your shared moments captured together. Anything to make him regain his lost memories."

It's been a hell of a ride since then.

Lee Jihoon, an enigmatic independent lawyer, who has zero nonsense tolerance has now a random woman constantly claiming to be his girlfriend of two years.

And somehow his close friend is backing up that claim. Something's absolutely fishy.

Jihoon glares at Soonyoung and completely ignores your presence right next to him.

"You have brought her into my office now?", Jihoon glowers in rage, his voice low, "Soonyoung explain yourself."

As the said man opens his mouth, you gesture him to stop.

You pull out your phone, opening the gallery.

"I have already seen them.", Jihoon says unimpressed, "I get that we have met through Soonyoung but these photos suggest nothing more than us being friends."

You show him a picture where he's hugging you from behind, his chin perched on your shoulder. You're smiling looking at the camera, he's smiling looking at you.

There's another one, set in his apartment, you are drawing something on his hand and he's kissing the top of your head. 

Jihoon turns away from you in his revolving chair, "This doesn't prove shit. We could have done this as friends."

You sigh, "Do you think you are that kind of person who'd do this with a mere or even a close friend?"

That shuts him up for a moment.

"Why would I be lying to you, Jihoon?", Soonyoung asks, almost offended.

"You tell me. I'm also not sure why you are doing this.", Jihoon retaliates.

There's a beat of silence before Jihoon continues, rubbing his temples in frustration, "Look, I don't wanna be an ass about it but you don't have enough proof to back up that we were in a relationship."

"But--", you're getting cut off.

"No one knows about us, none of my friends or colleagues. You show me our pictures and I admit they look intimate but it doesn't solidify that we were dating. You showed me our text conversation and never in the span of two years did I write a single 'I love you'.", he shakes his head, "All of it looks circumstantial to me."

It hits you harder than you could imagine.

Another couple of months go by and you're still not giving up. 

"He was on a call with me, Soonyoung, when the accident happened he was talking to me.", you admit sobbing. Soonyoung hands you the tissue box and patiently waits for you to continue. 

"He had been acting antsy for the past few days and though I wanted to share his burden, I decided not to probe. I knew he'd eventually let me know. Before the accident, the last thing he said was he had something to tell me and he was on his way to my place."

He pats on your shoulder, "Jihoon will get back his memories of you, Y/N. Let's keep trying."

But you've freed Soonyoung from the burden of constantly backing you up, still being a great friend he shows up whenever he can.

You work as an event coordinator. You were acquainted with Soonyoung through a common friend, so when over two years ago you had been contacted by him to be the planner of his brother's wedding, you agreed instantly. 

You are professional. In your line of work, you're well known for professionalism. 

But it was discarded the moment you saw Jihoon among the crowd on the wedding day. 

You had ditched professionalism then and only once, when you asked Soonyoung for his friend's contact details. When enquired, you spilled it all to Soonyoung honestly. 

Lee Jihoon is a known name in the city, he's reputed to be the best. It goes back a year when your friend's aunt had gotten scammed by a loan shark losing her property. With no lawyer interested in defending her, it was only Jihoon who had fought for her.

You swore you hadn't seen anyone cooler. The aura he emitted, the impeccable ferociousness and the sincerity he showed when he represented his client had you down bad for him.

Since then you've developed a crush but it would pass by, you thought, as there's no way you'd be crossing paths with him ever unless you have something to deal with legally.

But seeing him again during Soonyoung's brother's wedding was a sucker punch to your gut.

Suddenly, the crush resurfaces, in fact it ten folds when Jihoon looked nothing but absolutely gorgeous throughout.

"Jihoon has a foul mouth, so don't expect anything good coming out of it.", Soonyoung warns as he sends you the contact details, "Don't cry, don't take it to heart, no matter what he says."

And Soonyoung was correct. 

"Hi, I'm Y/N. I got your contact from Soonyoung."

When you had called Jihoon asking him if he could free some time for you as you had something to discuss, he agreed, assuming you would be needing some legal advice.

"Go on a date with me.", you say, "Please?"

The incredulous look on his face was remarkable but you had mustered all the courage within the world before sitting in front of him and discarded all the shame along with it.

"I'd be courteous since you're Soonyoung's friend but don't dare to try this act again.", Jihoon gets up, controlling himself from berating you as he walks past.

"3 dates.", you grab his wrist and he looks back at you, "That's all I want. And if you reject me after that, I won't be a bother."

Yanking his hand from your grip, he glares, "And why did you assume that I'd want to invest my time on you? You must be knowing that I'm quite busy."

"That surely makes you bitchless.", you snark back under your breath but Jihoon catches it.

He scoffs in a mix of disbelief and anger, "You--"

Clamping your hand on his mouth, you apologize quickly, "Sorry about that. And to answer your question", you grin, "Why don't you find it out yourself by going on a date with me? Tonight works for you?"

"You, for sure have a few loose screws.", Jihoon finally says, removing your hand, "Look I'm not interested and I'm busy, I work till late every night."

So Jihoon is rendered speechless when he sees you knocking on his office door late at night, to be specific at 2 AM.

"Hey, brought delicious wedding food and beer for us.", you enter and set the bag on the chair as the table was occupied, "That was one extravaganza wedding I had to arrange."

"And who said that you could be here?", Jihoon quips back, initially agitated but as the aroma of food hits his nose, reminding how he had skipped meals again and now his stomach could growl anytime, "This is rude and unethical."

"I know but I've decided to go against all ethics to woo you, Mr. Lee.", you throw him a wink which has Jihoon rolling eyes at you.

The first date was spent by eating food, chugging beer and your one sided talks.

The second one comes some days later as Jihoon agrees upon it just to make it crystal clear that he's really not interested and you should stop pestering him. He goes blunt, his words piercing you, intentionally. 

Though you insist, he is adamant. So you promise to not bother him anymore and make up your mind to move on.

Surprise comes to you a month later when Jihoon asks to meet you through a text. Somehow that night ends with you tangled in his sheets and the next morning he finally agrees to date you.

"Let's keep it private for now.", Jihoon tells and before you could ask the reason, he continues, "I wanna be sure, if it works out fine, let's tell everybody."

You find it a bit skeptical but it's not impractical so you agree. 

"But Soonyoung gets to know.", you declare, leaving no room for negotiations, "And my family and close friends would be knowing too."

Jihoon is your boyfriend now but something about the way let's himself around you makes you worry.

You don't expect him to act lovesick around you but he's so conserved. He barely texts you, only shows up when insisted and rarely initiates anything. There are no terms of endearment from him, no special acts.

Eight months into the relationship and you decide it's enough. You're done with his half ass slash zero commitments. So you start to act like him, zero calls, no texts and updates. You realise that you had gotten too good at the game when Jihoon knocks at your door one night.

Jihoon notices the lack of communication on your part and he doesn't let it bother him thinking you must have been busy but when it goes on for nearly a month, it strikes him that something's definitely wrong so that's how he finds himself knocking on your door.

And that night changes the dynamics between you two.

Jihoon has been getting frequent dreams nowadays. He sees you in all of them. In one, he's playing chess with you, in another you're perched on his lap humming soothing melodies to get him to nap. In some he sees your bodies tangled in the sheets.

He wakes up, his body hot, mind foggy. It's reoccurring, even pestering. He concludes that the reason behind these dreams is all the nonsense you've been feeding him daily, it's because he sees you everyday. He decides to put a stop to it.

"Something's bothering you?", you ask upon entering his cabin, "need help?"

Jihoon perks up, "And what can you help me with?"

"You might have forgotten, but we used to brainstorm a lot. You'd never go into the exact details of the case to respect privacy and we'd create hypothetical scenarios and try to come up with possible nooks and crannies."

He scoffs, "I would never take opinions from anyone. It's not my way of working, I work solely upon my hunch and instincts."

You've had a long day and aren't in a mood for banter. All you want is a warm bath and tight sleep.

So not pushing it further, you set the bags on the table and say, "I bought you food from your favourite outlet. Eat it up while it's hot and call me if you need me."

"Don't expect me to call you.", Jihoon blurts out, "When are you gonna stop doing this?"

You give him a sharp look, "Stop doing what?"

"Trying to forcefully insert yourself in my life."

You scoff, "Maybe when you stop being an asshole and try to put some effort into gaining back your memories?"

Jihoon glares at you. You glare back at him, no way you're taking shit from him today.

When his jaw ticks and eyes turn darker, you think of backing down and leaving because you know it's the look he gives when he's about to say something absolutely brutal.

"Maybe you should get a hint by now.", he says coldly, "Isn't it obvious, the reason why I remember everyone but you?"

"Jihoon, don't.", you say as soon as he opens his mouth to speak again.

"You weren't someone important in my life, Y/N. You're so insignificant that I don't even remember you."

Your throat closes up. A tear falls down your cheek and before he could continue his verbal assault, you run out of his cabin.

While doing so you bump into someone.

"I'm sorry.", you say, wiping your tears before looking up.

The woman in front of you, echoes your words and leaves. Your gaze follows her and you see her entering Jihoon's office. And rooted to the ground, through the glass window you watch an entirely different Jihoon. The frown on his face is quickly replaced by a shy smile, his body language seemingly changing to gentleness. The way he crosses the chairs to pull one out for the woman to sit, the eye contact that definitely holds a meaning.

For the first time, your head and heart come up with the same conclusion.

Later that night, Jihoon is somewhat shocked to receive a call from you.

"Who's she, Ji?", you ask from the other side, "Why were you looking at her like that?"

He straight up knows whom you are talking about and he right away knows that you're drunk.

"Where are you? Are you alone?", he asks you, already looking for his car keys.

He hears something incoherent and presses the phone tighter against his ear.

"Tell me Ji, why were you looking at her like that?", you ask again.

He halts, "Like what?"

You hum and he hears a loud thud. There's a moment of silence and Jihoon is rooted, holding his breath.

Moments later, you speak again, "Like you used to look at me. Like you like her."

"Where are you, Y/N? Can you send me your location?", he tries to coax you, "I'll come right away, we'll talk. Please tell me where you are."

Another pause and just as he's about to speak again, he hears your sobs. His heart tightens in his chest.

"D-Did I already lose you, Ji?", comes your choked voice, "Did you give up on us? Why can't you like me again?"

There is no answer to your questions. 

"I love you.", you say, "I love you so much that it hurts. What do I do now? I-I think I love you way too much, much more than I thought. And I regret not telling you sooner."

Jihoon freezes, he's tongue tied, his knees almost giving up.

"And if this is the end of us, then--", the line disconnects. You've accidentally hung up.

He calls you back immediately but you don't pick up. Repeated calls, when they remain not received, he sends you a string of texts.

Already inside his car, he's about to drive away in search of you, aimlessly, when he receives a text from you.

'I'm at home.'

He let out a breath of relief, his mind pounding, his heart thumping because of your words from before.

It's been over a month since Jihoon has seen or heard from you. For a week or two it was nice, not having you breathing on his neck felt refreshing. By the end of the third week he's worrying about you, his mind is relentlessly fogged with your thoughts. Mid of fourth week and he's contemplating whether to send you a text or ask Soonyoung to do it. 

It isn't relaxing anymore, it's stressful. It bothers him to all extent. He feels guilty about going overboard with his choice of words that night, he never meant to make you cry. He can't forget your drunk confessions either.

You are on a call with your mother who's nagging you to consider extending your stay when you go home for Christmas along with the equal urging of your sister and father. A lot of negotiations and you're finally agreeing to them.

"How's Jihoon? Any luck with the memories?", your sister, Eunha asks.

"Let's not talk about him.", you say after a beat, "I think, my relationship with Jihoon--", you halt, not being able to continue further, before the cracking of your voice gives it all away.

Eunha knows you better than anyone and sensing your tone, she's quick to assure you, "I've always admired your straight headedness. Whatever it is, I know you'll overcome it. And all of us are always there for you."

The doorbell rings and you frown, "Thanks Eun. I'll call you later, bye."

Checking the time and opening the door causes your frown to deepen. 

Jihoon sits on the couch, an awkward tension lingering in the atmosphere. And somehow it pains you to look at him, you're avoiding eye contact, looking everywhere but him, waiting for him to initiate the conversation.

A photo on the centre table catches Jihoon's attention and he picks it up, his curious eyes scrutinizing the faces. It's the two of you, an amusement park in the backdrop, grinning ear to ear, pressed cheek against cheek, radiating love through the photo itself.

You quickly snatch the frame out of his grip, setting it down on the same centre table.

"I hate amusement parks", Jihoon mutters more to himself but loud enough for your ears to pick up, "Because they're so crowded and everyone's screaming.", he looks up at you, "I went there with you?"

You just give a simple nod, no explanation, no backstory.

I love going to amusement parks. And you don't hate them anymore.

"Why are you here?", you ask him finally.

"I'm sorry.", he blurts out, "I'm really sorry for that night."

Your brows furrow for a moment before the neutral expression returns, "You didn't have to come here to apologise, a call would have sufficed."

For the record, you just know you had called him as an aftermath of that night but you don't remember, not even a bit of things you had said and you don't plan on bringing that up either.

Jihoon notices your defensiveness and to test it he stands up to walk towards you but you're immediately backing up.

"I'm feeling under the weather so if you're done, could you leave?", you speak still avoiding his gaze, "And I know you don't want me anywhere near you, rest assured I won't be a bother."

"What do you mean?", he asks closing in, "Are you still upset at me, even after I apologized?"

You keep stepping back, "I'm not upset. I'm just not feeling well, please leave."

I think you already replaced me, Ji.

Your back hits the wall and reaching you with long strides, Jihoon is caging you between the wall and his arms.

He hovers over you, "For the past months, you've been begging for my attention, trying everything to establish our relationship, so what happened, what's with this change in demeanour?"

He leans in, your faces merely an inch apart.

"Isn't this what you wanted?", your somber gaze meets his fiery ones.

He's not sure what he wants anymore.

"I have been having dreams about you, about us.", he admits, stepping away, "And I don't think they're just infringements of my imagination."

"What did you see?", your voice comes out in a whisper.

He then proceeds to tell you about the dreams and not so surprisingly you have stories and even photos for some cases to collate with his description of dreams.

"So did we record it as well?", Jihoon asks amused as you dab your hot pink cheeks, "I wanna see it though--"

You're slapping a hand on his mouth as he blatantly teases and asks you about the wet dreams he has been seeing which wakes him up with a tent in his pants.

"Let's brainstorm.", Jihoon is setting his briefcase on the table suddenly, taking out some flaps.

You eye him in suspicion, "Did you hit your head again, you're acting strange. You're acting like my Jihoonie."

The corners of his lips twitch, trying to suppress a smile, "Maybe your Jihoonie wants to make a comeback."

"I'll be waiting with my arms wide open, I miss my boyfriend.", you admit, your tone emitting sadness, your gaze meets his and you're smiling, "Thanks Jihoon."

Maybe that night at his workplace, you read it all wrong. Maybe your mind was too tired, your heart was too hurt so they made a fuss over nothing because you know your Jihoon would never do something to hurt you, even when he can't remember you. Even though his head can't recognise you, there's a hope that his heart would still beat for you.

He grins wider, "Don't get me wrong, I just came here to test your problem solving abilities."

"You should be thanking the heavens that I didn't choose law as my career, you'd have been jobless otherwise.", you retort smugly.

Maybe running your mouth isn't the best option, especially when with Jihoon because now he's running his fourth hypothetical case with you, pinching your arm whenever your drowsy eyes are shutting close.

"Another wedding?", you hum in delight, "Ah, god bless you."

Joshua laughs, "Is it such good news to you that another of my friends is getting married?"

"Isn't it obvious? It keeps the business running.", you muse, eating the brownies he has baked for you, "This is the 4th one right? Why are all your friends getting married this year?"

Joshua ponders, "Beats me as well. How are the brownies, sweetheart? I tried a new recipe today."

"And it's my new favourite.", you say, making him grab a bite of his own baking, "Makes me wanna kiss your hands."

He unabashedly holds his hands to your face only to get a swat.

"That's not what you said you'd do, sweetheart.", he feigns offense, "Shouldn't you start commissioning me by now? I think I bring in a fair share of customers."

He's absolutely right. Joshua is people's people. Everyone knows him. You knew Soonyoung through Joshua, in fact most people know others via him. 

The common link, the mutual friend that everyone talks about is actually Joshua Hong. He's the gossip monger, nothing gets past him. Not even the fact that you had gotten into a relationship. 

You were an expert in keeping personal matters under the sleeves and as asked by Jihoon, only Soonyoung was made known. But two weeks under his observation and he's declaring that there's no point in hiding, that he can tell by your body language that you're dating.

You didn't deny, you knew Joshua is perceptive. Though you felt bad for hiding who you're dating, he waved it off with all smiles stating he'll get to know when the time is right.

"Correct, I should start commissioning you but for baking me the best confectioneries.", you chirp happily, "The lemon drizzle chocolate cake you made at the previous wedding, I can't stress how good it was. Only you could make chocolate and lime flavour work like magic."

"You look happy, sweetheart.", Joshua comments casually, "How's things going with Mr. Boyfriend?"

"It's complicated, Josh.", your mood sets down.

Joshua takes a look at your face and decides to drop the topic.

"What do you think of me, Josh?", you ask with a serious tone, throwing him off bound.

"You want the truth, sweetheart?", he asks softly, his hand already atop yours, rubbing your skin soothingly.

Just one please from you and Joshua is baring his heart out, "I don't know who made you doubt yourself but to me, you're my rock. I have tons of friends but you're among the ones I'd always seek solace. When I had no one, you were there to support me."

He smiles embarrassed as you catch his teary eyes. Joshua is always cheery but there are rare moments like this where you get to see his vulnerable side.

"I was almost out of business when you took me under your wing until I had accumulated enough capital and reputation to establish the standalone business.", he fondly pats your head, "You barely knew me then, just know that you saved my life back then. So I'd never accept anything apart from compliments from anyone about you."

"Joshua Hong, it's too early, don't make me cry.", you say wiping your tears.

His laugh reverberates pleasantly, "You look pretty even when crying, sweetheart."

"You mean ugly."

"I said what I meant, sweetheart."

You could never win against Joshua.

"You're going to Soonyoung's housewarming party right?"

"Only if you're going.", Joshua sighs, leaning back, stretching his arms, "Socializing can be pretty tiring, sweetheart, so I need you as my charge-up."

Soonyoung thinks, no he's sure that Jihoon has been acting differently.

"Weeks ago", Soonyoung pulls up his phone, "I even have proof, you said you weren't coming to my housewarming party. I was hurt, I still am."

Jihoon grimaces.

"You said that you won't go if Y/N's going.", he almost shoves the phone on the lawyer's face, "And now you're here just to ask if she's coming. Why does it matter so much?"

Jihoon gets a little frightened when he sees Soonyoung holding up his hand. He's gonna count points now and after each point, Jihoon knows he's gonna get earfuls.

"First of all, I'm your friend so why does it matter who's coming or not. You should be there ", one finger down.

"Second, unlike you, Y/N is a decent person who doesn't abandon her friends.--"

"When did I abandon you--"

Without batting an eye, Soonyoung continues, "Third, I don't care if you're coming or not."

Jihoon cowers when Soonyoung puts his hand down smiling, almost eerie, "Now, tell me what changed? Are you getting your memories back?"

"Well maybe? First I've been having dreams, now they've turned into flashes. It has been difficult, this whole thing since the accident. But I think I'll get those missing pieces of my memories back soon.", Jihoon smiled wistfully.

"You better be on your knees and apologize to your girlfriend when you do so.", Soonyoung says with an undertone but smiles nonetheless, "I deserve an apology as well."

"Did you just curse?", your brows crease. 

When there's nothing but silence that follows, your eyes squint as you speak again, "So you're not gonna answer me?"

Jihoon frowns, "Who's Joshua and why are you taking him with you as your plus one?"

"We both didn't have a plus one so we decided to go together, that's it.", you explain, "And I know you said you wouldn't go to the party if I go so what's the problem here?"

"Can you stop please?", he pouts and you fight back the strong urge to kiss it away, "It was before, now I want to go but with you."

You grin, "Sorry, but I can't ditch Josh. There's time, find someone."

He nods, accepting defeat. He follows you from the kitchen to the dinning as you set the plates on the table.

You both have fallen into a routine, Jihoon has been acting awfully comfortable around you lately. He drops by your place anytime, he knows your passcode. When you call to remind him about having meals he makes excuses to see you. 

"The lawsuit against the insurance company that I've been working on", he says sitting across from you, "The one we discussed last month, I am planning to try the method you suggested. You might be right, I think these people are collectively trying to extort money in the name of insurance from the company, all of them have huge debts piled up and they're in a closely knitted group."

"Jihoon, let me warn you, it might be the case that your client is actually the perpetrator. What would you do then? You're supposed to fight for your client, not against them. You'll lose trust, people won't come to you."

"Then let it be. Maybe I'd get less cases, but people who are wrongfully accused would have their trust in me. I won't side with those who are on the wrong side of the law."

You give him a proud smile as you both eat in a soothing silence before he leaves your apartment as it drizzles outside.

By the time Jihoon reaches his apartment, the dizzles have turned into a heavy downpour with lightning jagging across the sky. And by the time he's out of the shower he can hear the thunderstorms soaring.

His head hurts with an intensity causing his knees to buckle up. There's a flash again and despite the ache, he's searching for his car keys.

Yet another one of his numerous calls remains unreceived. With every second that ticks away, Jihoon feels his heart constricting. However, his eyes glints hope when he sees the glimpse of the familiar building, nearing it.

His nervousness causes him to mispunch the code a fair number of times. Entering, he comes across an expected sight. The surroundings are pitch black, just becoming visible when the lightning strikes. 

"Y/N?", he shouts. No response. He puts on the flashlight of his cell phone and starts searching for you cautiously. He takes a deep breath, all he has to do is search across a hall, two rooms and a kitchen.

"Y/N?", he shouts again. Still no response. Just as he's about to stride towards the bedroom, from the corner of his eyes he spots a silhouette somewhere in the kitchen. He turns, focusing the flashlight, to see your weak form. You are supporting yourself by the counter with your fingers jabbed into your ears. His gaze softens.

He lunges towards you, engulfing your shaking form into a tight hug, "Shh...I'm here."

"Ji...", you voice out weakly, wrapping your hands around his waist instantly. The call of this nickname stirs something within him. He rubs your back, peppering soft kisses on your forehead. Another lightning strikes and you're shivering in his embrace.  

The raindrops hitting the window panes erupts the stillness of the night. Only with the rain stopping, you find yourself calming down. And you find yourself in Jihoon's embrace.

"How did you-- Why did you come back?", you ask, pulling away but Jihoon doesn't let go of you.

He wipes your tears and observes you carefully, "Are you okay now?"

You nod, "Thanks, Jihoon."

"I felt like I needed to be with you. I don't know how but I just knew that you've astraphobia so I drove back as fast as I could."

You feel a sense of relief, "You already knew, you're just starting to get your memories back, Jihoon."

He stares at you, his eyes darting to your lips often. 

You stare back at him, his eyes asking for your permission.

There's an unspoken consent and instantly, his lips are on your. Pressed against the counter, he grabs the back of your neck deepening the kiss. His thumb runs against the column of your throat, making your head go dizzy.

You gasp into the kiss when he lifts and sets you up on the counter. 

"Ji..", you say breathlessly, "We probably shouldn't--"

His lips work now, trailing hot kisses down your neck and collarbone, "I want to love my girlfriend, is it so wrong?"

"Whom you don't even remember--", another kiss to shut you up. The way you moan is enough for Jihoon to almost make a mess in his pants. 

"Which room?", his voice is thick with desire as he carries you now, not breaking the intense eye contact. "Tell me before I fuck you against the wall.”

One hand slides between your legs while the other supports your weight, as he lays you on the bed his fingers exploring through the fabric of your dress. “Tell me to stop.", he whispers against your neck, nipping slightly.

"Don't stop, Ji", you whine and that breaks him completely. 

His breath catches in his throat at your intense gaze and he leans down to whisper in your ear his hands trail down your sides, making you shiver. His hands push your panties down, sliding the fingers across your wet slit, “Was it lonely here without me?”

“Please Ji, need you.”

With a gentle yet firm grip, he holds your wrists above your head. “You're so adorable when you're needy like this…”, he presses his lips to your neck, trailing kisses downwards, “Such a perfect, impatient thing.”

He hooks his fingers in your thighs, pulling your legs around his waist as he settles between your thighs. He looks down at you with loving eyes, his voice dropping to a husky whisper "My love, you're killing me with these eyes.”

Your body moves on its own, trying to find friction, soft gasps coming out each time you feel his hard clothed length.

A deep chuckle escapes him, "So responsive. Is this what you wanted? To make me go wild?" He leans down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss while one hand traces your curves, “Such a good girl.”, he whispers against your lips.

He breaks the kiss to look into your eyes, his own burning with desire, "I'm going to take you hard and fast, tonight.”

A wolfish grin spreads across his face at your eager response. In one swift motion, he tears off your clothes, leaving you bare before him. His eyes darkens with lust as he takes in the sight of you. "Damn, you're gorgeous." he growls, quickly shedding his own clothes.

He settles back between your thighs, his hardness pressing urgently against you. With a sharp inhale, he slides into your welcoming heat, filling you completely. "Fuck, you feel incredible," he groans, setting a relentless pace. His hips snapping against yours with each powerful thrust.

He leans down to roughly claim your lips, swallowing your moans as he continues his frenzied pace. His hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he holds you in place. "Take it, baby. Take every inch of my cock.”

“Fuck, missed you so much Ji, missed being ruined by you.”, you say in between of sobs and gasps, clenching around him.

His movements become more urgent, more possessive. He knows you're close, and it only spurs him on, "Squeeze me just like that. Milk my cock with your perfect little pussy.”

With a feral growl, he buries himself deeper inside you, grinding against your g-spot as he unleashes a torrent of thrusts. Your screams of pleasure fill the room as you reach your peak, your inner walls convulsing around his pistoning cock.

As you come down from your high, he continues to pound into you mercilessly, seeking his own release. His face contorts with pleasure as he chases his climax, his body glistening with sweat. 

With one final, brutal thrust, he explodes inside you, his hot seed filling your womb as he roars his release. He collapses on top of you, his heavy breathing the only sound in the room as he tries to catch his breath. "Fuck... Are you okay?”

He nuzzles his face against your neck, his body still trembling as he asks softly, "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" 

His large hands gently roam your body, checking for any bruises or marks from his rough handling. "Answer me, please?”

A sigh of relief escapes him as he feels your gentle nod against his cheek. "Good", he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. He gently nips at your lower lip, "Though I do need to lotion those lovely handprints on your hips... they're quite noticeable.”

“If I let you, it'll lead to another round.”, you say, still breathless and smiling.

“I wouldn't mind. Would you?”, he waggles his eyebrows comically, trying to elicit another giggle from you and maybe get inside you again.

Seeing the crowd, you realize that Soonyoung, if not as much as Joshua, is quite popular.

There's a very limited amount of people you can recognise and the majority you don't. You stick close to Joshua and leave his side when the flock of people keep coming and greeting him.

"There you are.", Soonyoung smiles as you hand him a gift, "How's things going?"

You understand the insinuation, giving a genuine wide grin, "A lot better, you must be knowing, he's getting his memories back bit by bit."

He pats on your shoulder, "Soon, he'll be remembering it all."

Though it's crowded but there's a touch of coziness, you like the atmosphere. Taking permission from Soonyoung, you make a quick tour of his new house. It's impressive, it's warm given the purpose, he bought this house to settle in once he gets married. His parents, including him, have been looking for a partner for him.

You conquer a table at the corner, sitting quietly and sipping on the drink that the host himself has given you. 

"There you are, sweetheart.", Joshua settles beside you, taking a sip of what you were drinking.

Joshua is extremely fun and must have a person to be around, specially at the parties. He would point at random people and drop the juiciest gossip about them. What makes it more interesting is that Joshua's memory is photographic and storytelling is top notch.

You'd ask him about something that occurred four years ago he'd be spilling it all out unabashedly, doesn't even need a brush up.

'Just got here, Soonyoung told me you're in the lawn, I'll come and find you.'

A smile creeps up on your face as you read the text from Jihoon, keeping your phone aside.

Joshua demands your attention once again as he points at a woman, wearing an unmistakable neon coloured jacket.

"That's Arong", he says, "Runs her own boutique. She's a Richie rich."

You squint your eyes to figure her out and surprisingly she's someone you know. She's the same woman you had seen visiting Jihoon's office.

With your interest picked, you ask, "How do you know her?"

"We're good friends, went to the same university.", Joshua eyes glint as if he remembers something amusing, excitedly turning his head to look at you, "She's quite a character you know, she used to hangout with a guy discreetly. I think they had the same group and wanted to keep it low. She's not the kind to commit to a relationship."

You listen quietly.

His eyes turn big, emitting specks of energy as he continues, "Here's the interesting part. She knew that the guy liked her, even after that, she indulged him, went on dates, hooked up with him, all of this went on casually. But when the guy finally asks her out, she brushes him off."

Joshua laughs, "Can you believe it? She doesn't even reject him, she just brushes him off. Imagine the humiliation the guy faced.", he quotes, "By the way, it's not her first drill. From what I heard, all her words not mine, that the guy was really invested in her and wasn't willing to give up, must be a romantic kind. It's kinda blurred out on what happened but she did kinda bruise his ego."

There's something unsettling about this whole narrative. You don't know why but your chest caves in.

"So some days later, he comes back only to tell her that he's dating. Such a foul move.", he sighs, "Amidst all of this, I feel bad for the girl he is dating. I mean she's basically a rebound and probably doesn't even know. It was so wrong, he shouldn't have played it like that. How can he play with someone's feelings when he has practically gone through that himself?"

"When did this happen, Josh?", you ask in a quiet voice, "Do you know his name?"

Joshua ponders for a moment, of course he remembers, "This happened almost three years ago. If I had to be specific, hmm, I think it's around when you start dating as well.", he misses the way face pales, "I don't know his name but I have seen him once or twice while I was face timing Arong. Not sure if he's invited to this party."

'Found ya.'

Your phone buzzes with Jihoon's text and you look ahead to see him walking towards you. 

"That's him!", Joshua points out at Jihoon, "He's the guy we just talked about! Oh my god, why is he coming towards us?", he turns his head again to look at you, "Do you know him?"

It all makes sense now. Jihoon's agreement to date you, to him emphasising on keeping it hidden, to his non commitmental attitude. You've been played. You should have known.

Jihoon is in front of you now and all you tell Joshua before walking out is, "Stop Jihoon from following me."

The party was on Sunday and it's Friday when you decide that you won't be taking any more work, won't work except for the scheduled ones, to give yourself a long break. It feels rewarding after spending effort tirelessly throughout the year.

You're exhausted physically, mentally and unavailable emotionally.

Ending things with Jihoon was easy because there wasn't anything to end in the first place. 

You've met Arong, you've met her in the presence of Joshua, Soonyoung and Jihoon himself. This was specially to let Jihoon know what he has done, to hold  him accountable for something that doesn't remember. 

"I'm breaking up with you."

You aren't crying, not a single choke in your voice, eyes void of any emotion.

"Since you don't remember any of it, not even us being in some sort of relationship", your hands ball into a fist, gaze lowering, "And since none of it was ever real, I'm sure you're relieved."

"Y/N, please--"

"If you ever get your memories back, please don't make it an excuse to come see me. I don't want to see or talk to you ever again."

Jihoon grabs your hand once you turn to walk out, "I don't believe that I could do something like this. I'll get my memories back and when I do, let me--" 

"No don't.", Joshua steps up, yanking your arm out of his grip, "Didn't you hear what she said?"

"And who are you to come between us?"

"Someone who's does not play with feelings."

And all of a sudden there's a scuffle. Jihoon is grabbing the collar of the shirt Joshua's wearing and the latter tackles him down on the ground.

You watch in horror, as the two grown men indulge in a fight where the rest had to step in to separate them.

"The audacity, ridiculous!", Joshua huffs as you and Arong hold him.

"Says the one who doesn't know boundaries!", comes Jihoon's retort in Soonyoung's hold.

His eyes dart back at you, holding so much vulnerability that if you hadn't known the truth, he'd be in your arms by now.

"Y/N, I don't believe that it was all an act, that I hadn't fallen in love with you. It can't be, my head might not remember but my heart has definitely not forgotten you."

You chuckle bitterly, "That's delirium, Jihoon. You're busted and now making excuses. You had something important to tell me, you were on the phone with me when the accident happened. The way you had been acting before that, I'm sure you were going to break up with me. So save it. We're done. It's over."

"To the last wedding of the year!"

You raise your glass to the toast absentmindedly, waiting for the head of catering services to finish his speech.

"We're done with the headache.", Wonwoo leans in to speak into your ear.

A slap on his arm but you're laughing nonetheless, "You shouldn't be saying that."

Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo enunciates, "They asked for the change of flower arrangement three times. You know how difficult it is to convince the suppliers at the last moment."

You give him a pat on his shoulder, "You did great as always though. Imagine being in Joshua's shoes, he had to add two tiers to the cake as a last moment request."

"He's a saint for agreeing to it, I'd never--"

"Wonu, that's our job, as long as it's not unrealistic, we'll try to fulfil it.", your tone is reprimanding.

"So we're leaving as planned on the weekend right?", he speaks over your shoulder, as you check off the items from the inventory list.

You both are now behind the barracks, wrapping things up, "Yes.", turning to look at him you thank him, "Also, sorry for crashing in the trip along with Junhee."

"Oh please, my girlfriend absolutely loves you, maybe more than me? And your house is literally on the way, so no sweat at all", Wonwoo laments, shaking his head, "Junhee has been feeling guilty about what happened. She blames herself, you met Jihoon because he was handling her aunt's case back then."

"It's not her fault. I'll talk to her, maybe she needs some lecture on how to not connect dots every time.", you frown, "And thanks. I'm glad that I got some people who are genuine even though my person wasn't."

All Wonwoo does is give you an empathetic smile.

Jihoon leaves no stones unturned.

"Doctor, I'm willing to do anything", his hands are clasped in desperation, "Please, help me get my memories back."

The doctor sighs, he's tired of seeing Jihoon's face every other day. The doctor gets the urgency but his patient is not understanding the implications.

"What do I need to do? Any brain exercising? New medicines? I'm ready to be a guinea pig for scientific research as well. Just name it, I'll do it if it brings my memories back."

His house is a mess. He's searching every corner, every shelf, every drawer but he gets nothing significant, nothing to get back his memories of you.

Soonyoung quietly watches over as Jihoon lays in slumber. He was finally able to get his friend to sleep, an attempt to free him from restlessness even if it's for limited time.

He can't bear to see his dear friend in this condition anymore and almost calls you but he doesn't because it's not his place. He only hopes for you both to be freed of despair.

The hunt goes on, Jihoon looks like a wreck, he is a wreck. Tries to hit his head again, thanks to Soonyoung's presence he's saved, tries unprescribed/unwarranted pills for memory loss and gets admitted to hospital. Vomits tons, loses appetite along with weight.

A hard slap lands across his face and Jihoon winces. Soonyoung had enough. He gives him a diary which Jihoon recognises as his own.

"I found this on top of the almirah, while you were admitted. You can search the obvious places. I haven't gone through it but it's your personal diary. Hopefully this will help."

And it certainly does. Maybe the accident had made him forget about his most important habit. He goes through it, consumes whatever he has written.

Each page hits a nerve, bringing back visions.

He now knows two things, he definitely liked Arong and found you annoying.

When Arong rejected him, he wasn't surprised. He knew Arong, he knew it was something she could pull. His heart wasn't bruised, it was his ego. He couldn't take it.

And you came into the picture, an annoying woman who likes him. Even though he's a rational lawyer, his practicality leaves him when goes by when decides to follow the classic 'to get over someone is to get under someone else'.

It was fine, he found you tolerable. But his initial plan of breaking up after dating a few months started to crumble when he found himself worrying about you, wanting to see you more and yearning for you more. He was rational after all, so he knew it was him changing. His feelings for you ran deeper than what he had for Arong.

He realised that he liked Arong but he loved you, he loves you now.

And as the realisation settles in again, into the present Jihoon, he falls apart.

You don't like the vibe, no you hate it. Your mother doesn't stop making your favourite dishes, your sister doesn't even throw banter, always agreeing with whatever you're suggesting for Christmas tree decoration and your father keeps on buying you presents discreetly which is also not so discreet.

And somehow, Seungkwan, your sister's boyfriend, is walking on eggshells whenever he's around you.

You miss the laughs, you miss the dramatics, you miss the goofiness.

"I'm not dying, y'all. This isn't the end of the world either."

Silence.

"Can we get back to normal? You all are being extraordinarily nice to me and every time you do so I think about the reason and it makes me think about him which is certainly what I don't wanna do."

You lower your gaze again, mind involuntarily going back to Jihoon, the way he fooled you within the entire span of your relationship. Your naive nature acts as a blindfold, causing you to trust people easily and you take pride in it because you are surrounded by good people who never took advantage of it but that's until Jihoon happened.

You gave him your heart, he crumpled upon it and your trust, he stomped on it.

"We're re-doing the deco of the Christmas tree, it's awful.", your sister, Eunha proclaims, "You just sit and watch."

You look at her, a smile gracing your lips and it's contagious, everyone is smiling.

And follows chaos, returns the banter and it's all over the place as the liveliness reappears. You watch it all with your lips curl up.

Christmas comes as fast and you're really excited, first because you know this year you're getting most gifts, second, like every time you won't have to leave the day after, you have a whole month to yourself, to be around your loved ones.

The house lights up in your favourite colours and you chirp around the house happily.

"So when are you going to propose?", you bump his shoulder, whispering into his ear as he prepares the batter for the cake.

Being the dramatic he is, Seungkwan gasps, glares and bumps back at you, "March, on her birthday. She'd like the ring right?"

"She'd love it, it's so beautiful. I can't wait to capture how ugly she'd look while crying.", you laugh at the thought.

"Hey! Watch it, she'll be beautiful even if she snots.", he retorts, "Our babies will be pretty."

"Oh my god, such a simp.", you fake a gag, "I'm gonna puke."

He suddenly pats your back, without looking at you and that somehow conveys that he's there for you.

As the night draws in, you excuse yourself and beeline into your room, locking the door, giving your parents and your sister and her boyfriend some time to themselves. They are bundled on the couch and the carpet in pairs sharing loving gazes and gentle touches.

As you lay on the bed, your favourite pillow starts to get stained with your tears. Your body shakes with sobs as you hide your face behind your palms.

You miss Jihoon.

You miss his voice, his laughs. You miss his silent affection, the way his gaze affirmed many unspoken words.

It's been four months since you called off things. And it hurts how easy it was for him to accept it all, the lack of contact says it all. You haven't blocked him anywhere and he hasn't tried reaching you either.

Why would he? You gifted him the only thing he wanted from you, a break up. Maybe love isn't the same for all, maybe it doesn't come in the same form.

There are repeated knocks on your door and you lay holding your breath, hoping whoever is on the other side thinks that you've fallen asleep and leaves.

The knocks don't stop, they only become frantic and you hear Eunha's distraught voice, "Y/N, you need to be out asap. Only you can stop dad please!"

What could have happened? You rush off to the bathroom to wash your face before opening the door.

You freeze watching the scene unfold.

Jihoon getting on his knees at the doorstep, bowing his head down in front of your seething father who's holding an umbrella, it's end pointed at him.

"Sir.", he calls your father calmly, bringing everyone's attention back to him.

"You must know what I have done to your daughter. I'm ready for whatever punishment you have for me."

He looks at you, as if his words are for you, "Beat me as much as you want, don't look at my face if it disgusts you but when your rage resides please hear me out. I won't leave until you listen to me. So if you want to get rid of me, you'll have to listen to me.", Jihoon gives a sad smile before grabbing the edge of the umbrella and resting it on his shoulder.

"Have you gone mad?", you scold him, "Get up."

He raises his hand to stop you from rushing towards him. He chooses to ignore your words, his gaze trained on your father.

"Are you contemplating, Sir?", he chortles, "Wasn't it bad enough, what I did to your daughter?"

You shake your head, closing your eyes. You know what Jihoon is doing, he's provoking your father and everyone else.

The rage that had subsided a bit, seems to reignite as your father tightens his grip on the object on his hand.

And you could only watch through it.

"She's the youngest of the household, we've raised her with love, pampered her to bits!"

"The last thing we want is to see her in tears that too on a day like this!"

"How dare you show your face here after breaking her heart in the worst way?"

And the words keep pouring in.

Jihoon is squeezing your arm into a tight grip, hissing in pain.

"What's your motive this time?", you ask while dabbing one of the bruises with disinfectant, particularly hard making him wince, "The Lee Jihoon, I know doesn't care about anyone except himself."

Jihoon's unwavering gaze does nothing to answer your queries and you refuse to meet his eyes.

"You can stay in my room for the night, leave by tomorrow morning, as early as possible."

Just as you get up to leave, he stands as well, blocking your path.

"I lost the insurance lawsuit case.", he says, searching for your eyes, "I ratted out my own clients."

"You came all the way here just to tell me this?"

He shakes his head down, with a small stretch of lips. When he looks up again you're shocked to see tears in his eyes.

"I got my memories back, Y/N.", his voice cracks, "All of them."

"Great.", you scoff in distaste, "I had already warned you to not make it an excuse to see me."

He kneels again, on both knees, "Would you please give me a chance to explain?"

You hate it to admit but you've never seen Jihoon this vulnerable. If anything, he's the type to carry pride and arrogance in his aura. He has never (his words) bowed to anyone and here he is doing it for the second time tonight.

"Jihoon, it doesn't matter anymore. You may not have loved me for even a moment, but I did, with all my heart. And I don't want to go through it all over again.", you say, urging him to be on his feet, "It won't change our past, but it has definitely changed the way I am going to perceive people now."

Jihoon lets out a sob and you freeze.

"I love you, Y/N.", he chokes out in words, as his sobs turn into cries, "That was what I was going to tell you on the day of the accident. I had been so ansty because I realised I was in love, I was going to come clean, I was going to confess."

"I just wanted a honesty in our relationship, you built it entirely around the other way. You didn't love me when we got together but I thought you did and this is the pressing wound, I have."

You don't let him speak further, after putting a very restless Jihoon to sleep on your bed, you ponder over a lot of things.

It's been over a month and the dynamics between you two has changed. When Jihoon begged and begged to give him a chance, to prove himself worthy of you, you denied at first. You had forgotten how persistent Jihoon could be, how convincing he can be.

"Our relationship will be on a trial basis. And there are rules.", you declare with a bored expression, "First, you can't tell anyone we're dating. Second, don't expect me to update you about anything, if I feel like you'll get to know, if not then you won't. Third, skinship is allowed only behind closed doors. You have six months and if within that I feel like you're worthy, we make it public or we part ways."

You give it a last try, to push his buttons and make him admit that he can't be bothered to do this. That he isn't the kind to work under conditions. You're sure that this is when he finally stops.

The corners of your lips twitch as you suppress your triumphant smile. By the way Jihoon stays silent, you're sure he's speechless. And it's just a matter of time he walks out, he walks away from your life.

"I agree with all of it." he says with sincerity, "For the following six months, I'll be the boyfriend, you want me to be. Mold me into anything, I'll take the shape of your like."

Your heart constricts, brain shots, stupid senses, you wanna scream. You swear you'll break him under your watch, it won't be a month and he'll be bailing out.

And Jihoon swears, he'll get you back, that this time, that he'll love you right.

It's Eunha's birthday and Seungkwan made you arrange a big event since she's gonna get proposed. 

You can't stress how nervous you are even after trying your best to suit the taste of everything to be of Eunha's liking along with calming Seungkwan who's about to puke anytime because of his anxiety hitting the roofs.

And now your sister's crying, her now fiancé is crying but you're bawling. It's so beautiful, the entire scene that it makes you a bit too emotional, so you go out to breathe some fresh air and calm your nerves.

You feel a presence beside you and suddenly your head is being downed on a shoulder.

"I have kept your favourite chocolates in your purse. Have them to calm your nerves, your cycle date is approaching. I have restocked the supplies.", Jihoon says, "And made sure that no one is watching us now."

You tangle your arm with his and watch the stars in awe.

"One of your aunts kept asking me if I am single since you introduced me as your friend.", he says, leaning his head against yours.

"What did you say?"

"That I am taken and so in love."

Your heart flutters.

Jihoon has become calmer than he already was. He does everything you say, no questions asked. He waits for you inside his car every night to escort you when you're done for the day. He texts you frequently, though it's mostly monologue without any expectations of getting a reply.

He sleeps on the same bed if you ask him to, he takes the couch when you don't. There's always an ask of consent if he wants a kiss.

Nothing is out of scope, he'll bring you the moon if you want it.

"You look the prettiest tonight, you always do.", he kisses the top of your head, "Thanks for wearing the brooch, I bought you."

"Jihoon", you look up, your face perched on his shoulder blade and gazes meeting, "Why do you always look at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you love me.", your hand slips into his and he encases it as if his life depends on it.

"I do love you.", comes his immediate assurance, "I may not use nicknames, not big on PDA and not be expressive on texts. But I love you and even though I was late to confess the last time I hope at some point I made you feel loved, made you see that guy who's usually not a fan of skinship initiated hugs and held hands, who hates amusement parks had planned every outing there because you like it, who doesn't like carrots either but picks them out of your plate so you don't have to feel guilty for throwing them."

Tears prick at the corner of your eyes and do his.

It's true. Now as well, Jihoon doesn't text 'I love you's, doesn't use nicknames, nor does he gushes over. He's still silent, acts of service loud enough as his love language.

Jihoon looks away, exhaling sharply, "I'm sorry, I started dating to rebound. I think I'll regret this as long as I'm alive."

"I'm on a mission and you're making it impossible to follow through."

It's snowing. Jihoon, as usual, waits for you to wrap things up. Today, he's standing in a corner, inside the venue as snow pours outside.

You are almost done with stuffs when you spot him. He smiles, eyes forming slits as you walk up to him.

His presence, you think, feels like a fresh breath in the hustle. You're just about to greet him when--

"Y/N!", you turn back to hear the yell of your name only to find one of your colleagues, Ahin, rushing towards you, "You forgot to take the inventory list."

Jihoon takes it as que to leave your side. He's about to turn but freezes when Ahin asks, "Who's he?"

As practiced, as he's been doing it for months, he's about to answer, "I'm her friend--"

"Boyfriend.", you cut him off, taking the papers from her hand, "This is Jihoon, my boyfriend."

Ahin is shocked, Jihoon goes stiff and you bite your lips to suppress your laugh. You know tomorrow's gonna be chaos at work.

As Jihoon crosses the threshold of your apartment, he's pressed against the closed door.

Your lips press on his with intensity while his hands tangle in your hair. It's a full makeout session and you're pulling him into the bedroom.

"Since when am I your boyfriend?", there's a tease in his tone as he looks up from between your legs, his chin glistening from your juices, "I thought we still have a month left?"

"Consider this as an early promotion.", you grab a fistful of his hair and push back his mouth to work on cunt, "Let's love now, Ji. Let's be together and happy."

"Let's love then.", he dives in, his tongue parting your folds and finding your clit. He circles it slowly, then sucks gently, coaxing a needy whimper from your lips.

He continues lavishing attention on your clit, his tongue alternating between rapid flicks and slow, sensual licks. One hand slides up to caress your breast, teasing your nipple gently. His other hand grips your hip, holding you steady as he pleasures you thoroughly.

"Ji, fuck!", your heads befalls on the pillows, eyes close shut.

His mouth is relentless, your pleasure his sole focus. He eats you out with abandon, his own hunger evident in the way he devours you. Your cries and whimpers only spur him on, his tongue never stopping its assault on your sensitive clit, "Fuck, you taste so good."

"Ji, can't hold back anymore", you're whimpering as the fisting on his hair tightens.

Upon hearing your breathy confession, Jihoon doubles his efforts, his tongue now moving in tight, rapid circles around your clit. He slips two fingers inside you, curling them just right to stimulate that perfect spot, "That's it, come for me. Wanna feel you fall apart on my tongue."

He can feel you tensing, your hips bucking against his face as you get closer to the edge. He growls around your sensitive flesh, the vibrations pushing you closer. He hooks his fingers deeper inside you, rubbing that spot mercilessly, "Now, Love now."

He continues to lick and suck, drawing out your orgasm until you're a quivering mess beneath him. Only then does he pull back, his chin glistening with your arousal. He climbs up your body, capturing your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

He smiles against your lips feeling your fingers working on the button on his trouser.

"You'll have to leave early tomorrow morning," he says, grabbing both of your hands, "This was for you to have a sound sleep."

"But--"

"You can have me all you want tomorrow, after you return.", he is already descending down the bed to bring warm washcloth to clean you up, "Promise."

"Ji, next month, I'll be gone for a week."

Jihoon hums, as he cleans you up gently, "A destination wedding right?"

You hum sleepily, "Do you wanna join? We could extend the stay and use it as a break."

"I'll check my schedule and let you know. It's a good idea actually."

"I love you, Ji.", your drowsiness amuses Jihoon, as he watches you fall into slumber, "Wanna brainstorm cases with you for the rest of my life."

He presses a soft kiss on your forehead, listening to your soft snores, "And all I wanna do is be the best partner to you. I love you too, dearest darl+ing."

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Steve Harrington x Reader • mention of alcohol, semi-public sex, Steve’s horny & unhinged (same, honestly) oral (f receiving) unprotected sex, cum play, squirting, vaginal fingering

Steve hates attending dinner parties, and you hate hosting them. But with the first anniversary of your marriage approaching, your friends insisted there should be some kind of a celebration. Since the event was celebrating something as personal as your marriage, you chose to host the event at your home. Steve’s friends and yours are currently gathered in the dining room. The house is spotless; the food has been catered and tastes delicious. Your guests are chatting and getting along just fine, making easy conversation between themselves. Everything would be going great, if your husband wasn’t in such an…amorous mood. Because it’s becoming increasingly difficult to focus on the conversation around you while Steve’s fingers are moving between your legs under the table…

You smile politely, trying to keep it together for your guests. Steve has a complete poker face, taking generous sips of wine and cracking jokes with his buddies like nothing’s happening. Above the table, everything looks innocent; but with your laps hidden beneath it, your husband has free rein to work you into a mess in front of everyone.

You could end his teasing if you wanted to. A little swat of Steve’s hand and a stern ‘look,’ would be enough to make him cease his torment. But you don’t want him to stop. He’s rubbing your clit through your panties, your pussy swollen and aching under Steve’s touch. It started with him playfully stroking your knee, his hand gradually traveling up your skirt and between your thighs. Now, Steve’s got you so worked up that your clit is pulsing against his fingertips.

He’s able to hold his composure just fine until he makes one mistake that breaks him. As his fingers slip inside the crotch of your panties and Steve feels just how fucking soaked you are, he loses his focus completely. The words he’s saying die on his tongue mid-sentence, all the blood rushing from his head to his cock. You smile a little to yourself, happy to see that the playing field has been evened a bit. King Steve isn’t quite the master of self control he seems to think he is. You notice the muscles in his jaw tense in an effort to complete his train of thought, when you know all he can think about is how wet you are for him. As Steve presses his fingers lower, you intentionally adjust yourself in your seat to invite his fingers just inside you. Steve’s whole body jerks as his fingertips are now poised at your entrance; a little pressure is all it would take for him to be inside you now. You’re so fucking wet, he could easily wear you on his fingers right there at the table if he wanted to.

But he doesn’t. He clears his throat, composing himself, removing his hand from between your legs and subtly adjusting himself under the table. You watch him take another sip from his glass and reach for a napkin, pretending to need it. Steve’s fingers are glistening with your arousal; you watch as he subtly brings them to his nose, patting the napkin to his lips, his eyes fluttering when he catches your scent. Despite his best efforts, Steve is now struggling to hold a conversation with your guests, let alone make himself a charming host. You take pity on him, knowing how uncomfortable his cock must be straining against his pants, how badly you both need to relieve yourselves. “Steve?” you say at his ear, and he immediately responds with a breathy “yeah?”

“Can you help me finish up desert?” you ask. Steve nods readily, pushing his chair back and discarding the napkin onto his mostly-emptied plate. He turns away from the table as he leaves his chair, concealing his obvious erection. Steve excuses himself and follows you like a puppy to the kitchen, right on your heels. He reaches for your waist as you round the corner into the kitchen. You swat his hand away with a giggle, which doesn’t dissuade Steve, who reaches for your ass instead. You’ve led him through the kitchen and down the hall, lingering with him in your bedroom doorway. You peek past Steve’s shoulder toward the dining room, listening to your guests talking. Steve guides one hand along your arm, his other gently kneading your ass. “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you whisper through a grin. Steve draws back his hand and gives your ass a hard spank! , the cracking sound so loud that he briefly looks behind him to make sure no one heard. As the conversation in the dining room continues uninterrupted, Steve turns his face back to yours, all humor removed from his expression. With a dark, lustful tone, he quietly orders you: “Inside. On the bed. Now.”

You let yourself land back on the bed as Steve closes the door behind you both, locking it. He climbs on top of you, his thighs framing yours. You reach for his belt and so does he, your fingers fumbling together. His breath and yours are uneven, impatient. You tug down Steve’s zipper and with a groan of relief, his hand closes around his stiff cock, pumping up and down his shaft as his other hand snakes up your skirt. He grips the waistband of your panties and yanks them down, the elastic tearing in protest. “Shit,” Steve curses. “Sorry.” You shush him with a kiss, gripping his shoulders and pulling him in close. His hands grope down your body to your hips, spreading them wider. Steve trails kisses down your stomach, pushing up the bottom of your dress around your waist. You let your head rest back on the pillow as Steve nestles his face between your thighs. He doesn’t give you a chance to prepare, delving the tip of his tongue immediately inside you.

Your body jerks in response, a gasp shuddering up from your chest. You clench the shoulders of his dress shirt, bunching the fabric in your fists. Steve nuzzles his nose against your clit, his tongue lapping between your walls. The sound of your wetness is audible as Steve’s tongue works your juices in and out of your cunt, his chin dripping with you. He’s kneeling beside the bed, pumping his cock in his fist while he eats you. Your eyes are on the ceiling, your mind in a blissful haze as Steve takes what he needs from you. The first flutters of orgasm begin tickling deep in your belly, ushered in by the steady lap of Steve’s tongue pulsing inside you.

He knows you’re close, knows every bit of your body and its signals, almost better than you know yourself. Steve adds a finger inside you as well, reaching the parts of you his tongue couldn’t. Pleasure seizes you, your back arching involuntarily, heels kicking into the bed as you thrash. Steve releases his cock and clamps his arm over your waist, holding you in place as you come. He moans into your pussy, words your mind can’t understand but your body knows instinctively, his breath spraying your wetness on your thighs as he pants between them. Steve rises to his feet, his hand returning to his cock. You reach for him, but he breathlessly tells you “no, no baby, stay there, just like that.” Steve’s forehead is damp with sweat, his nose and chin slathered in you. He moves his free hand between your legs, using his fingertips to spread your labia, his eyes honing in on your slick, puckering hole like a predator eyeing its prey.

With a low groan, Steve empties his release onto you, spattering your cunt in his cum. He keeps your lips spread, watching his seed land on and just inside your cunt. Steve uses his fingers to slather his cum all over you, slipping two fingers inside you easily. He climbs back over you, wrapping his arm around your neck, pulling your body into his in an intimate embrace. Steve fucks his cum deep inside you with his fingers, an audible sloshing sound coaxing up from between your legs. You choke out a cry of relief as a second climax consumes you, your cunt fluttering and squeezing around Steve’s fingers. He buries his face between your legs again, lapping up your orgasm. You rut yourself against the bridge of Steve’s nose, smearing his face again with your cum, like a dog marking what belongs to it. He rests awhile between your legs, his cheek relaxed against your warm, sticky thigh.

The pair of you almost fall asleep like this, with your arms splayed out above you and Steve’s head resting between your legs. Just before dozing off, you remember that friends are still hanging out in your dining room. You pat Steve’s shoulder and point past him to the door. “People,” you remind him, sliding off the bed. Steve doesn’t seem to be in the hurry that you are as he watches you adjust your dress and smooth your hair in the mirror. You catch him watching you with a satisfied grin on his lips, and turn to face him. “What?” you ask, matching his smile.

Steve leaves the bed and approaches you at the mirror, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He nestles his chin in the crook of your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss there. “I was just thinking,” he replies, his breath warming your skin. “That girl in the mirror-” Steve points his index finger at your reflection. “-That girl, right there…” He purses his lips against your neck again, once, twice, three times. “…That’s my dream girl right there,” Steve murmurs softly. “Her husband’s the luckiest guy in the whole damn world…”

@hippiegoth97 @octobertales @buckysgrace @loserboysandlithium @professionalpromqueen @southerngothicchic @stuffedwithsteve @thecreelhouse @heartbreak-sandwich @whenisthefall @probablyin-bed

[blackgirlsloveburrow]

NSFW 18+

i really need a fic of this bad and i am not a good writer at alllll. okay just imagine with me real quick. also this is completely imaginative don’t come for me lol

!jealous joe !bengals fan bf !cheating

your boyfriend is a really big bengals fan. i mean has so much bengals memorabilia, friends and family love the bengals. he even grew up in the good old land of chili cheese coneys and graeters ice cream. well you never really were into football. it was kinda boring, kinda long, and could have your boyfriend in a sucky mood the whole day.

until…

you saw him.

joe burrow. he’s gorgeous, humble, and is so passionate about the game and his team. you were obsessed. so when your boyfriend one day invited you to an event where you may be able to meet him and have him sign something, you said yes.

you didn’t really have bengals merchandise at the time, so you borrowed your boyfriend’s bengals hat and scarf, and just wore a black outfit to match. you were standing at the fence, waiting for the team to come out to practice. you felt kinda antsy. you really hoped you would be able to meet joe. all of a sudden him and his team came out and everyone started screaming to get his attention. joe was signing jerseys and footballs. it was all a bit overwhelming. he got to you and your boyfriend, and did a double take a bit. your boyfriend was asking him to sign his poster, which he did, and you took out a little notebook. he smiled and looked you in the eye. your boyfriend didn’t notice this as he was already facetiming his friends about his interaction. joe didn’t give you his regular signature, but rather, wrote his name legibly and his phone number right underneath.

your eyes went wide. he laughed and headed to practice.

you went home and laid in bed. it was about 9 pm and you were still staring at the number. you decided not to tell anyone, as you didn’t want joe’s privacy to feel invaded. you put the number into your phone and texted him.

“hi. is this joe burrow? i am y/n. we met earlier today at your practice”.

he immediately texted back, you kinda freaked out.

“hey this is joe. it was nice to meet you earlier, y/n. your bengals hat was cute”.

you screamed into your pillow. you texted back.

“thank you! it wasn’t mine cause im just kind of getting into football haha”. you cringed at yourself, not really knowing how to respond.

“well, maybe i can teach you a few things sometime. maybe you can come to my house?”.

flash forward a few weeks later, you’re in joe burrow’s lap, with an oversized bengals jersey on and no pants, in his huge living room.

he’s kissing your neck and squeezing your ass, as he rocks you back and forth on his underwear clad dick. your phone is ringing on the coffee table. it’s your boyfriend.

“joe-“ you tried to say, but he’s trying to distract you with his tongue on your neck.

“joey!” you say exasperated. he pulls back and halts his movement.

“i gotta take this phone call”. he furrows his brows and looks to the side.

“you don’t even like him!” he responds, aggravated.

“i know, but i want to give him the news in a way where he won’t throw a fit. it’s not the right time” you respond.

here’s the thing about joe. he really likes you. ever since he gave you his number, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. he liked how interested you were in learning about him, whether it was about his football career, or who he was as a person. he didn’t care that you had a boyfriend, because he knew he wanted you.

but joe is a jealous guy. there’s only so much he can put up with. i mean, you’re sitting there in his lap, wearing HIS jersey. you have HIS hickeys on your neck, and your wetness is on his underwear. he’s not gonna put up with it anymore.

you’re on the phone saying hello as he pushes your back onto the couch. you had been making out for hours so you were fully ready for what was about to happen. your eyes grow wide at him as he takes your underwear off and pushes your knees to your shoulders. you’re so wet he audibly grunts.

“where are you at?” your boyfriend asks.

joe’s mouth is so close to your pussy it’s kinda hard to make up a lie.

“the grocery store?” you reply like you didn’t believe it yourself.

“oh okay cool”. he brushes it off. nothing seemed out of the ordinary to him as he only really wanted to rant to you about how the season is going so far with the bengals.

you let out a sigh and before you know it joe was sucking on your clit. you cover your mouth trying to avoid moaning on the phone, but joe removes your hand and holds it by your side. he’s licking long stripes up your hole to your clit, making you want to scream.

as good and toe curling joe’s mouth is, you’re able to keep some composure to keep the phone call normal. he’s still talking with no chance of stopping soon. you roll your eyes at the conversation and then see joe taking his underwear off. you can’t help but ogle. he’s longer than average and so so girthy. he always has to go slow putting it in so that you don’t go insane.

well he thinks you’re ready to go a little faster, and he’s desperate to be all the way in you.

your knees are still to your shoulders as he sticks his tip in. you bite your bottom lip hard as to not let out your moans. everything is fine.

until he puts himself all the way in in one swift motion, bottoming out in you. a moan escapes you.

“fuck you’re so tight” joe moans out.

your boyfriend catches on.

“what was that? are you at a guy’s house?”

you didn’t even have time to respond before joe is pounding into you hard and fast. his face is right above yours, and all you can do is moan. you drop the phone, not even caring because all you want is for joe to fuck you dumb.

“p-please daddy”. you have tears pricking the corners of your eyes. you don’t even know what you’re begging for, you just want him to keep fucking you.

“you like that baby? are you gonna cum on daddy’s dick?” he can feel you pulsating on his cock. he keeps hitting your g-spot.

“yes daddy i’m gonna cum” you grab the back of his head and he kisses you sloppily. you unravel beneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head. he continues using you, chasing his own high.

he’s grunting. mumbling how good you feel.

“please cum in me daddy”. you start to feel yourself wanting to unravel again. he fucks you with deep long strokes, until finally he cums deep inside of you, letting out a long moan. you cum again too, tears streaking your face. he kisses you again. foreheads to each other, all you can hear is each others breathing. smiling at each other, until you hear something coming from the phone on the floor:

“WHAT THE FUCK”.

[killerelysia]

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

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

Words: 16000

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

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

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

( Reader is a g.n!)-

Trigger Warning: This content contains themes of

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

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

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

Underlying themes of unresolved trauma and complex family dynamics

Solivan Brugmanisa

Violence, Blood

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

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

Reader is Sol's sibling!

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

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

You have a secret.

Your brother is a stalker.

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

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

The Hierarchy.

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

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

You’ve heard the stories.

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

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

Then there’s your brother.

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

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

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

But it’s not just him.

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

Subaru changed.

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

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

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

It has been years since you seen him...

You’ve tried to explain it once.

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

But no one really gets it.

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

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

Unhealthy. Unhappy. Alone.

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

But now, it’s just you.

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

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

Belong where, though?

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

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

Even sleep feels like a luxury now.

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

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

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

You hated what he turned into.

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

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

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

What changed? When did everything fall apart?

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

And then there’s Subaru.

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

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

And maybe that’s what you are now.

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

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

Because giving up isn’t an option.

Not for you.

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

You’ll keep going.

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

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

And if you have to face it alone?

So be it.

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

That day came.

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

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

Hyugo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The next day came like a blur.

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

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

Everyone was looking at you.

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

Disgusted. Scared.

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

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

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

Fine. You didn’t care.

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

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

What the hell was going on?

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

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

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

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

But you didn’t.

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

And you didn’t u

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you heard it.

“…their brother hurt them so much…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your breath caught in your throat.

Broken limbs.

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

The image came to you unbidden.

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

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

The goons, cocky and loud, sneered at him.

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

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

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

That’s when one of them recognized him.

“Wait... isn’t that—”

But it was too late.

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

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

It wasn’t a fight—it was a massacre.

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

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

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

It wasn’t the family’s worker.

It was him.

Your brother.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why?

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

Was it him?

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

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

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

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

“What the hell...?”

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

“You’re out,” he said bluntly.

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N?”

The familiar voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

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

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

“Hyugo,” you muttered, your voice shaking.

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t know what to say.

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

Your stomach dropped.

“So move in with me,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Home?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Understanding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hated how much you appreciated it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You froze, your chopsticks hovering mid-air.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For now, that was enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But no more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were being mocked,

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

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

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

And then, a strange thing happened.

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

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

Two days.

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

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

But, of course, it wasn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And now, Sol—Sol—had someone.

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

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

Shit.

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

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

But no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t turn around.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The scene shifted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only time would tell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later at Home

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked at her. “Rumors?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But why—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you asked, genuinely confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But—”

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

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

You blinked, staring at him. “But—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[smileybasics]

Defending @lil-liaa

I usually don’t post in this blog cause i have other ones but i don’t think this is being fair, me and Lia have been moots for a year and I have seen all her work over the years, I don't know a more creative person than her and I have been with her while she makes her moodboards by call and it is simply impressive the hours she invests in doing it, today I She wrote so devastated and we made a call talking, she has worked on this for so long, I remember how excited she was when she reached 1k, what I mean is that her community and her blog are very important to her, these people are accusing her because three Posts are similar to those of other blogs and that seems stupid to me since you have not even seen her other posts to know if she really makes an effort or not, Lia has made collages, dividers, banners, and a lot of other things, to she is really passionate about digital art and the only time she left her blog was because of the loss of a loved one and the truth is I don't care how many people are going to believe me after this post I just want them to leave her alone, here I am attaching some evidence...

This doesn’t even have so much in common just a three pics, in case you don’t know how moodboards are made, 2 or more colors are taken as a base and the images that best match the tones are searched on Pinterest, not only what she "copied" are just two photos but she also made a divider and a collage

Here’s just pinterest pics (proofs that are from pinterest in keep reading) and again i saw a lot of rude comments towards her that so unfair and hurt feelings cause considering how long Lia has been on her blog it's like invalidating all her hard work!!

In this post she even clarify that the divider isn’t made by her but the collage it is, also it’s just 2 pics that are similar!

This pictures are from pinterest, everyone can use it!

People bullying her

This doesn't just happen on the internet, but in real life, one of Lia's moots simply republished the post where they accused her of copying, she asked him/her why he/her did it so quickly, If they were supposed to be moots, if someone betrays you so quickly without questioning anything, they were never your friend and instead of responding privately she/him made a post just to make her/him moots laugh and the comments are gross, my god it's disgusting, this is directly bullying, if you are a thinking person and if you have ever had some kind of link you should try to talk something privately instead of calling the crazy girl and tagging all your moots so they can laugh, the worst thing is that you can tell that this girl only wants interaction because when she and Lia were chatting she threatened Lia with blocking her but then when Lia blocked her she made another post like "she blocked me" it's like, besides being a treacherous rat you can't have the decency to talk to her about it, Lia has been so nice to everyone but after all, this is where you can see who the ones who truly supported her are, and not the fake friends.

I'm not going to censor his/her username, he deserves it, tumblr is as much as real life, the importance of moots is like friends in real life, because if you want you can just harass someone and all your friends will laugh without question anything.

Also, Lia has a tutorial of a lot of things that she made! If she knows how to do it, why would she steal or copy from other blogs?

She has tutorials of gifs, texts, banners, etc, if she really stole and copy, why she knows how to do it by herself?, and if she knows how to do it by herself she doesn’t even need to stole!

LIKE SHE DIDN’T CARE?! Sorry but this is so wrong, i can tell that, SHE CARES, all these people who are making posts mocking her and calling her crazy because according to them she "copied" three measly posts, when if I were in her place and all my years of work were at stake I would also act like a crazy person because it's worth it, here it is demonstrated clearly her hypocrisy, if Lia wants to defend all her hard work or defend herself from bullying by blocking you she is crazy but if she makes a post explaining everything it seems like she doesn't care, this frustrates me so much

Here more evidence of Lia’s drafts

Just a few of her drafts

And last but not least I want to give credit to Lia's great work these years, so you can see that there is a true artist behind all this nonsense controversy, here are some of her moodboards, my personal favorites that I can't imagine how much time it would have taken

Extra: “Lia we know it’s you” Don’t acuse me of being Lia, i’m just a real friend

Evidence: Contact of Lia and me

Hi guys, it's come to my attention that someone in the moodboard community known as lil-liaa has been copying / taking heavy "inspo" from other creators like @y-unjins and @iluvrei view more for more info + evidence + my opinions on the whole situation

before i start, i'm not trying to run lil-liaa off the platform nor am i trying to stur up drama, this is just to bring light to the situation as not many people know and many people (including myself) defended her when this first happened, i also want liia to realize that what she's doing isn't right and that she shouldn't just brush off "accusations" like these when there is evidence.

proofs

you can see the similarities as lil-liaa used 3 of the exact same pics as iluvrei's including one edited by the original creator without adding credits to the post.

2nd

here you can instantly tell that the moodboard was copied (lil-liaas on the right being an exact replica of y-unjins), only changing 2 pics excluding the idol change and

3rd / last

lastly, you can see how one lia used the exact same divider (+ didnt give creds), two she uses the same images not only in the moodboard but also in her gif (same pics from y-unjins moodboard including the png)

now, lil-liaa was sent multiple anonymous ask from last year and one recently accusing her of stealing moodboards, although a lot of people defended her last year including me due to the ask having no sorts of proof of moodboards being stolen and no one else speaking on it but now the recent ask she has received included proof and her response to it was very (in my opinion) rude and just sounded like she didn't care.

in my opinion, i don't believe this was just a draft she had premade and i don't believe she somehow got the same exact photos from y-unjins moodboard recommended, i believe since this isnt the first accusation and now there's proof of this i believe she has been copying moodboards since last year when she was accused. i don't believe lil-liaa cares about this, the fact she's stealing from other creators and when she gets called out for it she pushes it off with the same excuses

tags

@miujo @rkkuri @lvioung @ciestial @aeraras @sugarish @gyareii @i-kyujin @daddldee @i-mmaculatus @haerinism @chaeryeos @bloomqi @h-yeoni @p-oisn @bitchey @yeritos @yonkiibums @y-vna @y-urios @fairytopea @shuaver @yeoniis

[fireheartpages]

interlude | b.d

bodhi durran x reader chapter two. series masterlist summary: So, he made a plan. He would work his way into your atmosphere. Get your attention somehow, manage to win you over. He didn’t know what it was, only that his interest would only be satiated by one thing: knowing you. word count: 1.8k notes: kind of second person pov, it's mostly all bodhi's pov though. canon-typical violence. bodhi is such a sweetheart ok. this is a little brain baby because i wanted to dive a little more into his brain so i could get a good feel of where this was going! pls enjoy reading bc i really enjoyed writing it, i love a good character study and that’s well and truly what this is!

When Bodhi had seen the dragons after parapet as a first year, he had almost been apart of the group that ran.

They were menacing—terrifying, and for a brief moment, he wondered why more people didn’t have the common sense to turn around in their presence. Leave them be. Simply try something else. Like maybe something that encompassing and powerful should just be left alone.

His anxiety had eaten through every nerve ending in his body until he was barely able to stay on his feet. But he did. He stayed standing, and when Garrick leaned over and whispered to him not to move—lest he incur the wrath of such a colossal beast—he listened. He planted his feet on the ground and kept his head held high. This was his life now. This was the card he had been dealt, and deal with it he would.

It was this attitude that had gotten him bonded to his own dragon: Cuir, the massive green with a quick tail and even quicker tongue.

She was a mother hen if he’d ever met one. Half the time she was making sure Bodhi had an adequate meal and enough sleep, and the other time she was the backbone he’d grown and hardened in the quadrant.

She’d gotten him through all of the hardest things he’d done within the quadrant. His first year had been rough—not incredibly eventful by most standards, but enough to put him through the wringer.

Nothing had made him feel more inadequate than watching all of his friends develop signets while his own lie dormant. Cuir had started channeling almost immediately. Her trust in him was implicit, but he had worried it was misplaced. He worried he would just never develop one. Worried that he would just burn up and never amount to anything.

But there never seemed to be a danger of it. Never seemed to be a surge of power with the threat. He could feel it, and he could channel into lesser magics, but there was no signet. Nothing.

Everyone else in his squad had a signet. They had even been developing and training them. But not Bodhi.

It was only a few weeks before the end of the year, going on a mission for the rebellion and suffering through Xaden’s taunting when he realized his signet had developed. He just hadn’t used it yet.

Xaden had swarmed his feet with shadows, nipping at his ankles like they were viscous animals, and they all watched as the shadows seemed to burn up.

No one was more surprised than Bodhi was.

“Light?” Garrick had asked.

Xaden shook his head. “No, I—I felt that.”

Then, during War Games, he realized what it was.

Some asshole from first wing was a fire wielder, and he had it out for Marked ones. He sent a wall of fire at Bodhi, completely intent on killing him, and Bodhi had thrown his hands up. And then nothing happened. The flame sputtered out, and—oh.

A twist of his hand, and he had rendered the asshole incapable of using his own signet.

The other rider tried again, and Bodhi was intentional with it this time. He twists his hand again, imagining it was a dial on someone else’s power, and he watched as the flames seemed to retreat back into him.

Satisfaction was a tangible thing in his chest. Pride filled his bond with Cuir. There was a roar from someone behind him, and Bodhi couldn’t help but just fucking smirk at the guy.

“Nice try.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Durran!”

“You’re gonna have to try a little harder than that!” Bodhi called as he mounted his green, knowing it was a taunt. He was top of his wing in sparring. He’d lost to one other person during challenges ever. In that moment, Bodhi felt unstoppable.

He suddenly became the most useful tool his squad—hell, his whole wing. Needless to say, they won War Games that year.

The Executive Officer title came as no surprise, not after the display of power he had shown in the latter half of the year. It did, however, paint a target on his back. No one liked that Marked ones were working their way up in the ranks. Him, Garrick, Xaden, they were the pentacle of everything leadership had hoped rebellion kids would never become—good at their fucking jobs.

But Bodhi had decided he refused to show them what they were looking for. Including anything less than perfect. He would be a powerful rider. He would master his signet. He would be a just officer. He would do everything he could to help with the rebellion. He would be the perfect soldier for Navarre, so they could never suspect he was an even better soldier elsewhere.

And then he watched you make a dance of the parapet.

He couldn’t resist the interest that followed, the way you captured his attention simply by being there. You were meant for a stage, not the hardened walls of Basgiath. And yet.

You were incredible. Skilled and talented. You were kind, and witty, and good gods he would give anything to be the center of your attention. You were like a drug he couldn’t get enough of.

So, he made a plan. He would work his way into your atmosphere. Get your attention somehow, manage to win you over. He didn’t know what it was, only that his interest would only be satiated by one thing: knowing you.

Step one: observe. Figure out your likes and dislikes, your habits and interests, who your friends were. Xaden’s weird interest in Violet helped, gave him an excuse. He watched you during challenges, even got the chance to spar with you. Would watch you slip those gloves on your hands every morning as you run to catch up with your squad. Watched you dominate the Gauntlet despite the odds stacked against you.

Step two: get an in. Ané was the cadet in the healer quadrant that always seemed to be stuck with him when he came in with any particularly nasty wounds. A sprained wrist, too-deep cut, and one time, even a broken rib or two he’d gotten on a very much not sanctioned flight to drop off some weapons over the border. That was all his fault, but it was hard to explain away when no one had observed it. But Ané was kind, like you, and when he explained what he’d seen of your hands, Ané seemed to know what it was. And have a solution.

Step three: delivery. It had taken Ané minutes to make a balm for you, and he kept it on him until the next time he saw you. He had felt like he was ambushing you, jogging up to you in the courtyard as you headed back from the infirmary, but he was excited. To say the least. Not being able to do so had never crossed his mind, so when you’d nearly rejected it, he had almost crumbled right then and there. But then you’d taken it from him, and gods, the look on your face—he wanted to bottle the feeling in his chest, the light in your eyes. And when you’d told him about home? Trusted him with little pieces of yourself—the cold you hated, your mom’s role in the damn rebellion, how you’d ended up in the quadrant. The high he felt was better than winning War Games.

Step four: make you like him. You were a hard shell to crack, but he was working on it. He was doing his damndest. He would give you as many little pieces of himself as he could. Find you during Threshing and talk down your anxiety. If you could admit your history to him, he could tell you a little about his. You weren’t Marked physically, but from the burden you carried, you were marked in another way. On your soul.

Step five: make you fall for him. Not that he’d fallen for you. He wasn’t, like, in love with you or anything. He just—liked you. Yeah. Really, really liked you. Cuir thought he was full of shit, but she didn’t know everything. (Even though she reminded him many times that she, indeed, did.) And the more he got to know you, the more he liked. He would teach you how to spar, and make you give him something in return. He didn’t care about flying like you. In fact, you were terrifying in the air. Said you weren’t meant to be a rider and yet you rode like you were born for it. He just wanted to spend time for you. And if he got to touch you while you sparred? In the most innocent way, of course. No funny business. Unless you have the green light, then—

Then you started pulling away.

He missed seeing you for days at a time, sometimes an entire week. He felt it like a phantom limb.

It had only then occurred to him then just how thoroughly you had encompassed every part of him. Just how easily he had gotten you mixed into every aspect of his day. How much he looked forward to seeing you until he was deprived of you. Until he didn’t have access to your wit and your laugh anymore.

Seeing you on the flight field had been nothing less than a shock. He had recognized Shocair before she had even seen them. He was still thinking of the most recent drop when their little group had stumbled across her.

And somehow, deep in his gut, he knew. He knew that if you discovered them, found out what they were doing, that they were working with the resistance… You wouldn’t say a word. In fact, he knew you would jump to help.

Those thoughts had sprung forward without him realizing, and it was like they were caressed, cupped in his head and—it was a weird feeling. Almost like someone ran a hand through the pond that was his mind. Not unlike the one he got around Xaden sometimes. The one that flared something in his channel.

And then Shocair’s wing lifted and you stepped out and Bodhi’s heart about stopped beating. You looked run through. Tired. Still beautiful. Beaten down.

Xaden had gone on offensive, but you handled it with ease. With the support of Shocair, of course. When you said you slept on the flight field, it was like his world had stopped spinning.

Something was wrong, something was deeply, deeply wrong. He would have done anything to fix it.

But you kept icing him out. And it hurt like hell.

He wasn’t going to push, but damn him if he wanted to. There was a moment there where he thought he might have cracked you. But he wasn’t a fire wielder, so he couldn’t melt your ice, and he wasn’t an inntinnsic, so he couldn’t figure it out for himself.

So he walked away. And he felt like a damned coward for it.

[jenosbliss]

pairing. gn!reader x chenle | genre. enemies to lovers | wc. 1.6k | warnings. none | requested. here

Chenle had never been one to dwell on what-ifs.

He lived life with the confidence of someone who always knew the right thing to say, the perfect quip to lighten the mood or deflect attention. That’s what people liked about him—his charm, his humor, his ability to make you feel like the most important person in the room, even if only for a moment.

But with you, it was different.

From the moment you met, there was something about you that knocked him off balance. It wasn’t just your quick wit or the way you always seemed to see through his playful façade. It was the fire in your eyes, the way you met his banter head-on without ever backing down.

He liked you. He’d liked you from the start.

But when he realized you didn’t feel the same, that your heart was already spoken for, he buried those feelings deep. Better to turn his affection into irritation, to let his frustration fuel the constant sparring that had become the foundation of your relationship.

“Chenle’s staring at you again,” Yeri had whispered once, nudging your side during a group study session.

You didn’t even glance up from your notes. “He’s probably plotting my demise.”

“Or,” she teased, “he’s just obsessed with you.”

You rolled your eyes, dismissing the comment with a wave of your hand. Chenle? Obsessed with you? The idea was laughable.

He’d certainly never shown you anything but aggravation. Every interaction between you was laced with sarcasm and thinly veiled insults. He was the Literature major who mocked your essays, and you were the Toxicology student who criticized his lack of scientific knowledge. It was a game you’d been playing since the first week of university, and neither of you seemed willing to call a truce.

But beneath the barbs and jabs, there was something unspoken, something simmering just beneath the surface.

The shift came after your breakup.

Your ex had been toxic in every sense of the word. Manipulative, controlling, the kind of person who made you doubt your worth even as they claimed to love you. The end had been messy, leaving you raw and guarded.

Chenle knew about it, of course. Everyone in your friend group did. But while the others offered you quiet sympathy or avoided the topic altogether, Chenle treated you the same as always.

Or so it seemed.

The café was loud, filled with the hum of chatter and the clinking of cups. Your group of friends occupied a long table in the corner, half-eaten pastries and abandoned cups of coffee scattered across its surface.

You arrived late, sliding into the seat furthest from Chenle, only for him to notice immediately. “Don’t worry,” he said, raising his coffee cup with a smirk. “I’m not contagious.”

“Shame,” you shot back. “Maybe if you were, people would finally avoid you.”Your friends groaned in unison, half amused, half exasperated.

“Here we go again,” muttered Yeri, shaking her head. “Can you two go one day without trying to kill each other?”

“She started it,” Chenle said defensively, leaning back in his chair. “I’m finishing it,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. His grin widened. “You wish.”

The meeting went on, but the tension between you and Chenle simmered beneath every conversation. At one point, he made a snide comment about your choice of coffee (“Basic, just like your taste in guys”), and you retaliated with a jab about his lack of emotional depth (“Makes sense, considering you’re incapable of forming meaningful connections”).

Your friends had learned to tune you out by now. After a while, the group began to disperse, one by one heading back to their dorms or classes. Soon, it was just you and Chenle left.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” you asked, packing up your things. “Why? Am I ruining your day?” he asked, his smirk never wavering. “You ruin everyone’s day,” you snapped.

He chuckled, standing up and leaning on the table between you. “It’s hot when you talk back, you know that?” You froze, your brain short-circuiting for a moment before you glared at him. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Why not? You’re doing it for me.”

“God, you’re insufferable,” you muttered, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Admit it,” he said, following you toward the exit. “You’d miss me if I weren’t around.”

You turned to face him, your annoyance bubbling over. “Not everything is a joke, Chenle.”

“Not everything has to be serious either,” he shot back, his tone sharper now.

“Why do you always do this?” you demanded. “Why do you always push and push until people can’t stand you?” His jaw tightened, the teasing edge in his eyes replaced by something darker. “Maybe I’m not the only one pushing,” he said.

You scoffed, brushing past him. “Whatever. I don’t have time for this.”

“Still not over him?” he asked, his tone cutting as you stopped in your tracks not turning to face him. “None of your business,” you shot back.

“Just saying,” he continued, his smirk unwavering. “Didn’t know you were this pathetic.” The comment stung, but what hurt more was the look in his eyes—like he wanted to take it back but didn’t know how.

You didn’t see the way his hands clenched into fists under the table, or how his smile faltered as you turned away and left.

The tension between you only grew worse after that. Every interaction felt like a battle, each of you throwing verbal punches that landed harder than you intended. Your friends noticed, but no one dared to intervene.

It all came to a head one night at a party. The party was a mistake.

The music was loud, the room packed with people. You’d come with your friends, hoping for a distraction, but the moment you saw Chenle across the room, you knew peace wasn’t in the cards.

He was leaning against the wall, laughing with someone you vaguely recognized. When his gaze landed on you, his smile faltered for a split second before returning, sharper than ever.

You ignored him, heading to the kitchen for a drink. But of course, he followed. “Thirsty?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock concern. “For alcohol, not your company,” you retorted, pouring yourself a drink.

He leaned against the counter, watching you with a smirk. “How’s life post-red flags?” Your grip on the cup tightened. “Toxicology major and still couldn’t see all those red flags?” he pressed, his tone infuriatingly smug.

You turned to him, your eyes blazing as you hissed. “Literature major and still couldn’t write yourself a happy ending?”

The words hung in the air, sharp and cutting.

Chenle’s smirk disappeared, his jaw tightening. “At least I don’t pretend I’m fine when I’m not,” he said, his voice low. Your breath caught, the weight of his words sinking in.

“Go to hell, Chenle,” you said, your voice shaking as you pushed past him.

He caught up with you in the hallway, his hand wrapping around your wrist as he pulled you into an empty room.

“What the hell is your problem?” you demanded, yanking your arm away. “My problem?” he repeated, his voice rising. “You’re the one who keeps acting like you’re untouchable, like nothing can hurt you.”

“Because I don’t have the luxury of falling apart!” you shot back. “Not everyone can just skate through life without consequences.”

“You think I don’t have consequences?” he asked, stepping closer. “You think I don’t feel things?” You laughed bitterly. “Feel what, Chenle? Annoyance? Pride? What could you possibly care about besides yourself?”

“You,” he said, the word exploding out of him like a confession. The room went silent, the air thick with unspoken tension. “What?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“All I want,” he said, his voice shaking with frustration, “is for you to look at me the way you look at them. The way you looked at him.” Your heart raced, his words cutting through every wall you’d built around yourself.

You looked away trying to protect those walls from breaking, nibbling down on your bottom lip as you tried to speak “Chenle—”

“If you bite your lip one more time,” he interrupted, his voice low and dangerous, “I’m going to do it for you.” Your breath caught, the electricity between you crackling like a live wire. “Then do it,” you whispered, the challenge slipping out before you could stop it.

He didn’t hesitate.

Chenle closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was raw, desperate, filled with all the frustration and longing you’d both been too afraid to acknowledge.

His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer as you tangled your fingers in his hair, each of you pouring months of pent-up emotion into the kiss. His touch was soft unlike the way he kissed you — rough.

And when you finally pulled apart, your foreheads pressed together, the air between you felt charged, like the calm after a storm.

“This doesn’t change anything,” you said, your voice trembling. “Maybe not,” he replied, his lips brushing against yours again. “But it’s a start.”

The tension between you didn’t disappear after that night, but it shifted.

Your arguments were just as sharp, your banter just as biting. But there was something different now—an undercurrent of something deeper, something neither of you could put into words.

And as much as you hated to admit it, you didn’t want it to go away.

navigation.

masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

[liquidstar]

Arc 3 Subaru was incredibly shitty for a lot of reasons and the story knows this. The story does not want you to agree with his behavior and is outright calling it selfish and entitled. It provides reasons for his behavior, including his trauma and the more literal curse on him, but it doesn't use them as excuses. By the end of it all he's still the one who has to apologize, that was his whole arc until that point. This behavior is bad and shitty and the story wants you to realize that (and maybe learn a lesson alongside him)

THAT BEING SAID a lot of people will treat his behavior as "irredeemable" which is kind of insane to me. Yeah he was being a bratty, entitled, selfish little shit, basically throwing a tantrum. But... Like. He is 17. If getting into a fight with your friend at 17 and saying hurtful things bc of your own lack of perspective makes you an evil monster we're all fucking doomed. Unlike a lot of people, he actually grew up and really apologized though. That was the pointtt. The story is largely targeting people that may have tendencies like this, showing them how it hurts people, and how to work through it.

I don't think saying "Actually, if you've ever once acted selfish (especially during a bad mental health spiral) you've crossed the line into being completely unforgivable as a human being" is productive. I think it's far less helpful than what the story is actually doing. I think it fosters way less room for growth and change in people. Subaru isn't a monster he's just a human being, and a teenager, who sometimes acts shitty because everyone does at some point. I'm sure even the most virtuous person in the world had a bad spat with a friend at one point, where they were in the wrong.

[sweetbillwriting]

Way Out of Line

THREE

Beneath my perfume and make-up I'm just a baby in disguise. And though I know that it's wrong to be alone with him that "come on look" is in my eyes.

Character: Keith Toshko from Barbarian (2022) played by Bill Skarsgård.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: This will not be everyone's cup of tea. And I'm a rookie haha.

I followed the movement of his soft lips, and instead of feeling the excited urgency, I felt my body become mush in his arms, and my sex pulsed in the same rhythm. I moaned into his mouth, and I could feel him smile.

“That's it, honey…” he whispered encouragingly between kisses, and it made me giggle. It was something about how he guided me that was both sexy but also domineering. It was overwhelming to kiss him, to be so close to him in a way I hadn't been with my ex-boyfriend, Tim. There was a feeling in my chest that slowly spread to my limbs and made me feel dirty in all sorts of ways, and after a while the negative feelings took over. This was not me. I wasn't the type of girl who kissed married men, especially a man much older than me. I had always been the boring girl, who didn’t push the rules. I released his lips with a smack, and he looked at me with big eyes. He must have noticed my change of emotions.

“I'm sorry,” he said, fast and pulled away. I looked down at the ground, but I could see his feet nervously move. “I should go…”

I didn't look up and didn't say anything because suddenly I felt so uncomfortable and shy about it all. I was not a sexual person, and he was old. He really was old. He could have had children my age. I heard him leave my room, and I breathed out in relief. It was not a good idea; still, I could feel a pain between my legs, like a frustrated cramp. The shame got even worse. It was filthy and heavy in my chest. He was my dad's friend; it wasn't okay.

It was hard to sleep after that moment with Keith, and the anxiety crept around in my body like hungry insects, especially because I could still feel the pressure between my legs. I ran to the bathroom every fifteen minutes in the belief that I needed to pee, but I didn't need that relief; I needed an intrusion. I had never really masturbated, but after having laid with my legs crossed without being able to release the pressure, I needed something more effective; I needed something inside me. I didn't have the knowledge to make myself come, but it was enough to be penetrated for me to finally be able to sleep, even if I felt dirty by my own sexual feelings. I didn't want to feel what I did, so I tried to deny them. They weren't real; they were not me, just something my brain created after a bit too much alcohol.

×××

I had a weird feeling in my body when I started to wake up, like a nagging feeling of forgotten anxiety, and even if I wanted to ignore it, I started to search in my brain for the answer. At first I couldn't remember it, but when I moved and realized my panties were off and I just laid in my tank top, I remembered how I had slipped a finger deep inside of me to be able to sleep. I remembered the passionate kisses with Keith that had made me so sexually frustrated I had humped my own hand. It all was so dirty and shameful, and I looked down at my hand, disgusted by how deep my fingers had been in me. I tried to tell myself it was a one-time thing and stood up from bed even if I didn't have panties on. I couldn't even see them, and for a second I imagined Keith had crept into my room and stolen them, but it was then I found them tangled in my cover. I put them on, just to have something on, on my way to the bathroom to take a shower. Just like Christianity had told me, I tried to wash my sins away; I tried to scrub away my dirty thoughts and massage away every shameful feeling. It did kind of work, and I decided that I would forget about it all and leave it all behind. I fooled myself into believing I could do that and got myself to forget Keith actually lived in the house.

It wasn't that easy to move on when the man in my dirty imaginations sat by the kitchen table, eating egg and bacon with my father. He was there, and as soon as I saw him, I forgot my thoughts were sinful and embraced them instead of denying them. I didn't care if I was dirty, I didn't care if he was my dad's friend or that he was older than me. I remembered the image of his bulge in his sweatpants and thought about how his cock looked hard. I wanted him inside of me instead of my short fingers.

“Hey, honey, come and sit down with us,” said my dad who patted the chair next to him. There was a setting for one more person, and it was probably for me because my mom most often ate earlier than me and my dad. My dad was dressed in a comfortable jogging set, but Keith was dressed in jeans and a black zip hoodie. His hair was styled back, and it could be so that he had plans to go out that day. We glanced at each other quickly, but both of us looked away, and I sat down next to my dad, who gave me a side hug and patted my cheek.

“Slept well?” He asked and started to put up eggs on my plate. He knew I didn't eat bacon. I looked away, uncomfortable with the question, but gave him a low, “yeah.”

“Do you have any plans for today?”

He didn't ask me about my New Year's celebration or if I had been drinking; for him, it was probably obvious I had been a good girl and that Mom exaggerated.

“Um, I think I’ll just have a movie marathon…”

My dad grimaced, and I looked at him confused.

“What?”

“I'm sorry honey, but Disney doesn't work at the moment…”

“What?” I asked with a whiny voice. My dad looked at me almost in shame and played with one of my long locks that fell forward over my light yellow robe.

“I know, I can't log in and—”

“You can use my account,” said Keith suddenly, and by reflex I looked at his handsome face even if I didn't want to. He licked his lips that were shiny with grease, and he gave me a fast look before looking down at his bacon again. “Is there something special you want to see?”

“She always starts the new year with hopeful movies, right, honey? So Peter Pan and Alice in Wonderland?” My dad said with a smirk. I just nodded a little. Maybe my choice of movies also was childish and embarrassing, but Disney was such a natural part of my life I didn't think of it like that. I looked at Keith again. He had a stubbly top lip, and a strand of his hair didn't want to be a part of his slicked-back hairstyle and fell down in his eyes. He was too handsome to be a friend of my father's. He was way too handsome to want to kiss me. But he had.

“Thank you…” I mumbled and took the juice pitcher so I wouldn't need to look at him.

“We will go into town soon; Keith has a meeting, and I need to buy some things. Your mom is out with Felice, so you will be alone for a while. But I guess you can handle that? Now when you have Disney?”

“Yes, daddy,” I said and smiled at him. I could hear that I sounded like a ten-year-old, but we had that sort of relationship, so it was hard for me to stop. My dad always worried about me, and I was always eager to please him. Keith cleared his throat, but I didn't dare to look at him, and I wondered if he judged me for my polite behavior towards my father. He probably regretted that he had kissed someone like me, a silly girl.

×××

“You can fly!” Shouted the kids in Peter Pan while I sat stretched out on the couch with a bowl of ice cream in my lap. I still wore just pajamas even if it was 3 pm. I giggled a bit to myself when I thought about how many times I had pretended to be Lena, waiting for Peter Pan to come through my window. My biggest wish had been to never grow up. I had a nice time being alone and had no problems with it, so I was a bit disappointed when I heard the front door open.

“I'm so sorry, Keith, really. Do you want anything to eat or something?” Said my mom with worry. I turned down the sound in curiosity and tried to listen closely. It sounded like there were several feet in the hallway, and I could hear my dad clear his throat.

“No…” said Keith with a wobbly voice and sniffled. “I think I'm going to bed for a while… But thank you.”

It was obvious Keith was crying, and it made my throat dry up and start to scratch. There was something about hearing him like that that made me uncomfortable in so many ways, and I noticed how my hands were shaking too. I listened to him walking up the stairs slowly, but also my dad's deep exhalation after Keith had closed the bedroom door.

“Shit, Giselle… I really thought they would get together again,” said my father with a low voice, so low I almost didn't hear him. My mom's reply I actually couldn’t hear because she was whispering. I paused the movie and laid my hand on my chest. My heart was beating hard, and the dry feeling in my throat was now a painful barbed wire string from my heart up to my mouth. I understood what was happening, but I wanted to know more, so carefully I walked out to my parents in the hallway. My mom was hanging up Keith's bomber jacket while my dad was sitting down on the bench we had by the door. Both of them looked up at me when I tiptoed out to them.

“What's happening?” I asked, pretending like I hadn't heard as much as I had. My mom opened her mouth to say something, but my dad interrupted her.

“He got served with the divorce papers… So he is, of course, really upset.”

I nodded a little bit and looked down at the ground. I tried to keep my facial expressions in check because I was the only one of us three that knew Keith had been with another woman just the night before: me.

“Can you keep an eye on him?”

I heard what my dad said, but at first I couldn't understand the words and what he meant by them.

“Huh?” I looked at him confused and played with the thin bands of my tank top.

“We need to go grocery shopping. Can you take care of him?”

“Like how?” I asked, and I could feel my cheeks heat. My parents must have noticed, but they didn't understand why they became so rosy and must have made their own conclusions.

“Just check if he wants something if he comes out of the room. Nothing more than that.”

I nodded, and my dad gave me a thankful smile. They put on their outerwear again and left me alone with Keith. Their little girl and their old friend. They didn't have a thought, or even a half thought, that something could happen; that their little girl wasn't so innocent and the friend wasn't so trustworthy.

I continued to watch Peter Pan, but my thoughts drifted away to Keith over and over. I felt sorry for him and wondered if I should do something, but I was also afraid he would come down, and that I would need to comfort him. I thought about the night before, and in the light of day, I wasn't ashamed of it. I wasn't ashamed I had wanted him. Now I wasn't ashamed that he was married either because he would divorce, and the rest I could pretend were trivialities. I wanted him but I was scared of how much. I had never felt those sorts of feelings before, and it was frightening to feel how much I could lose myself in them.

“Hey…”

I turned to the doorway where Keith walked into the large room. His eyes were brimmed with red, but he wasn’t crying. He could have just been really tired, but I knew he wasn't, and the sniffle also exposed him.

“Hey…” I repeated and moved my legs and the blanket so that he could sit down on the other end of the couch. He sighed deeply and turned his gaze towards the TV. Something told me he just didn't want to be alone, so I didn't say anything, and just let him watch the ticking crocodile. I looked at him carefully a couple of times, and he smiled a little at the TV, and that made me smile too. After 20 minutes I dared to look at him completely, and he looked back at me and scratched his neck.

“Are you okay?” I asked carefully and sat up a bit better on the couch. Keith also sat up a little and took off his zip hoodie revealing the black t-shirt he wore underneath.

“Yeah… I knew this would happen. I just… It's a lot to take in, you know?”

I didn't know. How should I know? I had never been married, and my only relationship had ended when I was eighteen because Tim felt it became too serious, but I nodded anyway. Keith breathed heavily and dragged his hands over his thighs over and over. Something with his behavior made me feel braver, and I removed the blanket from my legs and scooted closer to him.

“Do you need a hug?”

Keith turned his eyes towards me, and for a moment we stared at each other intensely. As I sat next to him, I could see how he looked down over my body, especially my hardened nipples under my top. He looked up at me again and then moved my hair away so it fell behind my shoulders. He looked down at my chest again, this time more obviously. Just like the night before, a foreign feeling took over me that made me more confident and daring, so I pulled down one of the straps of my tank top slowly revealing one of my naked breasts for him to see. I looked him straight in the eyes while I did it and saw his eyes fall down to my chest when my nipple was exposed. Keith looked up at my eyes again and moved so he sat more towards me.

“You're such a beautiful girl…” His voice was low and raspy, and he laid his hand on my neck with his thumb on my jugular. I could feel the pressure between my legs grow again when he dragged his lips over mine sensually.

“My beautiful baby girl…” he whispered, putting some pressure over my neck. I moaned into his mouth when he kissed me and I laid my hands on his thick thighs. His hand moved down from my neck to my chest, and he released my lips to be able to look at his long fingers playing with my nipple.

“I've noticed your nipples are always so hard... Is it because you think so many dirty thoughts?” He looked up at me with a smirk and pinched my nipple hard. A pained groan left my lips, but the feeling also travelled down between my legs and made it hammer quickly. I didn't know what to say, so I let him kiss me again while my breast disappeared in his wide palm. His other hand held my head and steered me into every kiss. He used more and more tongue which made me feel that overwhelming feeling again. I was a good girl, but something took over me and gave me feelings I had learned to feel shame about. I was horny. I was so horny and wanted him in the dirtiest ways.

I dragged my hand over his crotch and could feel there was something alive under the denim. There was something moving in there. Keith pulled back a little so I could watch while he unbuckled his belt with a jiggle. I couldn't look away; I didn't want to look away. I wanted to see it. I wanted to see his cock. I thought of the word in my head: “cock.” I had never said it, but I knew I would call it that. He had a cock. My ex-boyfriend had a “penis.” Sometimes a “dick,” when I wanted to sound more relaxed, but I knew Keith had a cock.

He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down to the floor so that he wore just a pair of white boxers that didn't hide at all what was under them. I could see something long and thick and big balls being restrained under the tight material. Keith dragged a hand over the thick member causing the fabric to stretch even tighter. I could see veins and the shape of the head. I couldn't look away even if I felt I was blushing down to my chest.

“Have you seen one before?” He asked softly. His voice didn't match how dirty he looked with his legs wide apart and his cock trying to break free from the thin fabric. I just replied with a nod because my voice had disappeared at the same time my pussy had gotten wetter and wetter.

“You're not a virgin?” He asked and took hold of my chin so we could look each other in the eyes. I shook my head, and he looked at me with furrowed brows.

“I want you to talk to me. Hmm? Can you talk to me, baby girl?” He asked, pinching my nipple hard. I didn't know if that was some sort of punishment for not talking or if he just wanted to wake me up, but he got me to make a sound and then nod.

“I can talk…”

“Are you a virgin?” He asked again. I wondered why he asked that twice while I looked at him doe-eyed.

“No. I had a boyfriend.”

Keith nodded and gave me a soft kiss. He continued to kiss me softly, which made me relax. I felt safe with him, and when he leaned back and looked at me with kind eyes, I felt I needed to tell him something.

“It was a long time ago… And he was nothing like you. I… It feels new with you. You make me feel things…” Keith smiled a little and pulled me up on his lap. My pussy was pressed against his balls, and I could feel the hammering start again. I looked down at his crotch, seeing the thick line. Was it really that big?

“Do you want to see?” He asked, taking a hold of my chin again so I would look up at him. I looked between his eyes and lips, and that made him lean forward so I could press my lips against his again. I invaded his mouth with my tongue, but he slowed me down again when he took hold of my neck.

“Slow down, honey…”

My hands laid on his chest as I blushed. The feelings were everywhere, and I felt that intense pressure between my legs again. I was forced to sit down on his thigh and press myself hard against him.

“Does your little pussy hurt?” I looked up at him and nodded. Somehow it had become so much of an embarrassment that I worried it would be a permanent feeling. Keith sat up and shifted me from his lap, so I stood between his legs. He dragged his big hands over my hips and then took hold of my pajama pants and panties with his index finger. He looked up at me with a smile.

“Can I take them off?”

I nodded a little, too mesmerized by him and drunk on newly discovered feelings. Carefully he pulled them off, and I stepped out of them, so I stood in just my strappy top. Keith took my hands in his so I wouldn't be able to conceal myself when he leaned back. Now it was him who looked overwhelmed, and I could see his cock twitch.

“Completely shaved?”

“Yeah?”

“That was…” He cleared his throat and stared between my legs like he hadn't seen a woman naked before. “It was a long time ago… Can I touch?” He looked up at me with those big puppy eyes, and to my own surprise, I sat down over his legs. Straddling him with the soles of my feet pressed against the outside of his thighs. He could see everything.

A loud moan fell from his lips just by the sight of me like that as he dragged a hand over and over his member.

“Is this just for me?” He whispered, running his hands on the inside of my thighs. “Or do you give yourself to other men like this?”

I shook my head.

“Just you. You make me crazy.”

“Yeah?” Keith leaned forward and kissed my knee, then the inside of my thigh.

“I don't know what's happening with me…”

Keith smiled sweetly, then he turned his full attention to my pussy again. Carefully he put two fingers against me, shaped like a V, and massaged my outer lips, feeling my smooth skin. He breathed heavily, and after a while he let his middle finger drag between the lips, collecting my wetness. I could feel him stroke a spot higher up that made my whole body tingle, but to my disappointment, he just dragged his fingertip there teasingly. Instead, his goal was to penetrate me with his finger, and I wasn't all prepared for how rough he would do it. His fingers were long and thick, so when he pushed it in quite violently, my entrance cramped up at first and the pain shot out to my limbs.

“So tight... So tight...” he whispered. I had closed my eyes from the shock, but when he had started to pump his middle finger in and out of me in an even rhythm, I opened my eyes. The image before me shocked me because Keith had pulled out his thickness and jerked himself off in the same rhythm that he finger fucked me in. He was even bigger when I saw his cock like that, even while his big hand held it. He let his finger slip out of me and looked at me with such a sweet expression it was hard for me to not giggle.

“What?” He asked, showing off his deep dimple in his cheek. I giggled again, and he dragged his hands over my thighs. After having been watching each other for a while, he moved me away from him. The thought of him being pleased and finished stressed me, but he just pulled off his boxers completely so I could see his cock fully exposed. Had Tim been that big? Far from it. Did he really push that into girls? It wasn't possible. I continued to stare. I had just seen Tim's and had never really looked at it. I had chosen to never go down on him, and we had sex in the dark, but here I now sat next to a grown man that I had the feeling was quite well endowed. I wish I could say it was pretty, but a man's genitals were something else. It looked scary to me.

Keith smiled and pulled me closer so I could have my head against his shoulder, then he laid my hand on his thigh so I could decide myself if I wanted to touch.

“It's okay, honey, take your time…” he said and dragged his fingers through my hair. I looked up at him. It was so nice how sweet he was about it all and how much he took care of me. He really was such a man. I kissed him again and pushed my nose tip against his cheek. It felt like I was falling for him. That sweet, wonderful man. With his big cock. I looked down again and wrapped my fingers around him, feeling his girth and weight in my hand. Keith made a deep exhalation, but let me explore by myself. I dragged my hand all the way up to the head, feeling the mushroom tip against my palm. It was really wet, and I took the wetness in my hand when I dragged my hand all the way down to his balls. I looked at them a bit confused. I didn't know if I should touch them. I had never heard about that. I looked back at Keith, who sat with his head leaned back against the headrest, and he seemed to understand what I was wondering.

“I want you to play with them, roll them in your hands, squeeze them a bit carefully…” His voice was much deeper than before, so I looked at him with the biggest eyes. He smiled at me lovingly.

“You're so cute. Such a good girl.” I giggled a little at his praise and then looked down at his cock again, still in my hand.

I sat up a little so I could use both my hands, so with one hand I started to roll his balls in my hand; it felt a bit awkward, and Keith probably felt it too because he spoke up.

“Spit on them… Spit in your hands, baby...”

I looked at him confused, so instead he took my hands and pulled them towards his mouth where he spit several times into them. Long, watery saliva threads landed in my hands, but I wasn't grossed out. All of it was sexy in the heat of the moment. When I started to roll his balls in my hand again, they glided better, and with his hand over mine, we jerked his slick cock. He showed me the pressure he wanted. His breathing became more heavy with every stroke. I saw how his t-shirt had ridden up and how I could see a deep v-line but also a hint of abs. I leaned back looking at him with furrowed brows and how his wide chest rose and fell with each deep breath. He was so gorgeous. He was so sexy. I released his balls so I could touch myself, but when Keith noticed, he pulled me up over him and steered my pussy towards his cock.

“Take it. Fuck me.” He said it lowly, but I didn't dare. It was too big. “Take my cock. Take daddy's cock, baby girl.”

I looked at his face intensely, meeting his dark, lustful gaze. I wanted to but also didn't. I needed to make a decision. But not then and there, because when I looked out the window, I saw our neighbor Mr. Gardner look through the window, straight at us.

×

[kari-go]

Surprise Chloleka essay, hya! XD

Seriously though I was musing on one of the things I find most fun about writing Chloleka even compared to some of my other favored ships like Chlogami and Chlonette and hit on what makes it extra fun and a lil spicy.

See, the thing with Chloe dating Kagami or even Marinette is both these options 'fit' with Chloe's preconception of herself and the world she lives in fairly well.

Kagami is rich, chivalrous and they are a match for one another's sheer force of will, its just clashing personalities and possibly bigotry that could lead to issues.

Marinette is a bit more of a leap, if one ignores the rivalry, her parents are well connected, respected, & comfortably well off & Marinette is breaking into the fashion industry which Chloe is tied to via Audrey.

These all FIT very easily.

Juleka though?

Juleka is very, very different from what Chloe is used to but the fun thing with Chloe is once she decides someone is exceptional she doesn't try to make them fit a mold but embraces their "unique brand" of exceptional. Its why she doesn't think everyone should dress like Audrey, or why she thinks its fine for Adrien to make friends with the lower classes of their school. They all have their own brands to fullfill.

This means if she decides Juleka is exceptional for some reason, and more tot he point exceptional enough to date. Then Chloe's not going to try and adjust Juleka's behavior, instead her brain will leapfrong to explanations for how X, Z, and Y are all exceptional due to being tied to Juleka and not even realize she's doing it.

This kind of rapid fire double think is how she could engage with her mother & Ladybug and circumnavigate their rejections and dislike.

Juleka lives on a houseboat? How fitting that an iconic woman like her makes her home on one of Paris's most iconic locales like the Sean!

Juleka's aesthetic style is a mix of neon-cyber and gothic punk? Exceptional, that has so many words and is such a stark style, no one can match her!

Juleka likes morbid and scary stuff? Nothing scares Chloe's amazingly bold future girlfriends, not even monsters! & morbid? I think you mean romantically zealous and hauntingly intimate!

The mental leaps are fun & seeing Chloe's spin is entertaining, but it also makes clear there's an interesting set of contrasts, vibes & aesthetics going on which makes them fun to play off one another.

At least that's part of what I lean into when writing them, the other side being that both are more than a little unhinged, Juleka by default. "Let's just kidnap her" & "Coool" being her default suggestions to a problem and response to a monster attacking her. While Chloe can easily work herself up derailing a fucking train for love. Combine the two and you have two very intense people with zero or easily broken restraints becoming enamored with one another and all the glorious chaos and passion that can bring~

ooooo!! you are so right!

I never thought about it honestly. I think for me it was kind of just "ooh what an odd combination" and "purple and yellow <3" and it went from there xd. I guess it could also be the contrast? Like Chloe who's honestly very loud and demanding combined with Juleka who's quiet and struggles to defend herself.. hmm

awesome analysis! :D

[brookediamonds]

If youre still taking requests, maybe smth ab axel being the golden retriever boyfriend to the reader. Most people think she doesnt like him and is pitying him but axel makes her smile and laugh and he wants her to smile and laugh as much as possible because its his favorite thinf about her

the reason why i smile | Axel Kovačević x Fem! Reader

Summary: You have a classic case of RBF and there's only person on this plant that can bring the biggest smile to your face. And his name was Axel Kovačević.

side note: Axel is apart of Miyagi-Do in this world!

Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: none! fluff

(a/n: I couldn't decide what song I liked better for this, it was between Smile by Avril Lavigne or Crazier by Taylor Swift)

not my gif

"She always looks mad."

"That's just her face."

"She looks so mean."

People couldn't be far from it. You were anything but mean. Sure your eyebrows were always closed in together, and smile lines were nonexistent on your face, but you were surely a smiling on the inside kind of person.

The only people who really knew that were you, your parents, and Axel Kovačević. It's nothing personal to the rest of the world, but what did everyone else have to offer?

You and your teammates have just finished another lesson with Sensei LaRusso and Sensei Lawerence, your body was still running off adrenaline from the sparring you just finished, earning a kudos from your Sensei's.

"That was an awesome match," Axel said as the two of you tied your shoes.

"It was whatever," you respond humbly, with a shrug. Axel snorted making you bump hips wit him.

"Hey, guys!" Sam chippers, walking up to you and Axel along with Miguel.

"Hey," Axel greets them as you continued tying your laces.

"We're gonna head to Golf N'Stuff right now, do you all want to join us?" The curly haired girl asks with a bright smile.

"Yeah, sounds like fun!" your boyfriend responds happily. "Right, (Y/n)?"

You glanced up at the blue eyed boy next to you with an amused expression.

"I guess," you sighed dramatically adjusting your tank top. "But I'm not going like this."

"Of course, we're gonna get changed and meet over there at six," Sam assures you.

You nod and stand up, grabbing your gym bag. Axel followed suit, trailing behind you as the two of you left the Miyagi-Do dojo.

"Good news!" Sam skips over to Tory and Robby who stood over by the exit talking amongst themselves. "I got (Y/n) and Axel to join us later tonight!"

"You actually got her to go?" Tory raises her eyebrows surprised by Sam's news. "Did you have to bribe her or something?"

"Look, I know she's been hard to get to know, but maybe she'll open up a little more after tonight," Sam encourages the group.

"Especially with Axel around," Miguel adds in. "She seems to talk a little more with him."

"Huh," Robby realizes. "You're right, she does talk to us more when he's there."

"I bet they're dating," Tory chimes as the four of the friends began walking to Sam's car.

"I doubt it," Miguel scoffs. "Girl never smiles, much less shows she likes anyone."

"But she does smile when Axel is around," Sam points out to her boyfriend. "Tory might be on to something."

"Okay, let's not speculate," Robby says holds his hands up in defense. "I'm sure they're just friends because they joined us at the same time."

"I'm with Robby on this one," Miguel agreed with his step-brother.

The girls rolled their eyes, sharing a secretive look between them as the four gathered in the Mercedes.

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

Soon enough six pm rolled around, everyone meeting at the entrance of the arcade building. As you and Axel exited the car, your new friends waited patiently for you both.

"Alright, do you guys wanna start with mini golf or the arcade?" Miguel inquires as the six of you stood together.

"Mini golf!" Sam and Tory shout out making the boys laugh.

"Sound cool with you guys?" Robby asks turning to you and Axel.

"As long as (Y/n)'s on my team, we're good to go," Axel rubs his hands together, making your snort.

Sam’s eyes sparkled mischievously as she took notice to your lingering eyes on the boy next to you. "Actually, I’ve got a better idea. How about… girls versus boys?"

"I like that idea," you spoke walking over to the brunette. Axel's face drops seeing your betrayal.

"And loser buys snacks," Tory adds in with a devious smirk.

"Deal," Miguel agrees. "Hope you ladies brought your wallets."

"We won't need them," you taunt back. "Let's go get our clubs."

Tory and Sam fist bump behind your back, happy they were able to get you on their team. The music played loudly around the venue, neon lights lighting up the outside as everyone grabbed their gear.

As the six of you lined up at the first obstacle, you placed the ball down steadily lining up your shot. As you were about to hit the ball, you feel a presence lean down close to you, his voice low and warm, "good luck."

"Go away," you swat Axel away from you as if he were a gnat in your ear. He laughs watching as you carefully hit the target, the ball smoothly going down the drain.

"Nice one!" Sam cheers you on. You glare over at Axel who stood happily behind you, as if he hadn't tried to sabotage you.

As Sam went up next, you walked over to the tall boy, using your golf club to lean on.

"Don't think that flirty tone is gonna work on me," you say lowly so no one else would hear you.

"I do not know what you are talking about," Axel responds, playing dumb.

Without your knowledge, Tory catches Axel squeezing your left hip, before moving to go next at the ball. She knew it.

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

After winning by one shot, the six of you decide to head inside and continue your fun with other games. As all of you split amongst yourselves, you went along with Sam and Robby to grab some game cards for the rest of your group.

"So, how'd you do it?" Tory asks moving to stand beside Axel.

"Do what?" He asks out of confusion.

"How did you manage to get with (Y/n)?" She smirks. Miguel looks over at the blonde wide eyed at her question.

"Tory!" Miguel mutters.

Axel barks out a laugh, a tint of a blush creeping up his neck.

"Holy shit," Miguel whispers seeing Axel's sheepish look. "You are dating (Y/n)!"

"What can I say?" Axel smiles softly, looking over at you as you stood in line grabbing a card. "I like a challenge."

"No but seriously, she's hard to read, how'd you get her to open up?" Miguel questions the tall boy next to him.

"She's actually one of the easiest people to talk to," he says. "Once you get past her 'don't talk to me' vibe, she's a great listener."

Tory looks over at Axel impressed with his description of her, now seeing how intently she always paid attention to those around her.

"Okay, we have enough for pretty much every game here," Sam, Robby, and (Y/n) come back to the group.

Miguel and Tory watched as you immediately went to Axel's side, your arm barely grazing his.

"I think we should start at basketball," Axel says turning to you.

"Fine, but don't cry when I beat you," you respond sassily making Robby and Tory laugh.

"She's so mean," Axel exhales watching you saunter towards the basketball machine. "I love it."

He walks off after you, placing a hand on your back making you turn back to him with a slight smile.

"Did we miss something?" Robby asks Tory seeing you bump your hips with Axel's to scoot him over to his side.

"Tory and Sam were right," Miguel admits with a playful eye roll. "They're dating."

"You see!" Sam cheers raising a hand to high five Tory.

"Makes sense," Robby nods looking over at you both as you let Axel stand behind you to guide your hands shoot the basketball.

And completely miss, making you laugh and gently punch him in the shoulder.

"They're cute," Sam pouts seeking her own affection from her own boyfriend.

As the other four watched you, you turned your back to them, facing the boy who just beat you in the game.

"Why are they looking at us like that?" You crossed your arms, your mouth falling into a straight line.

"I might've told them I'm hopelessly in love with you," Axel says grabbing the tickets that printed out of the machine. He stands up straight, taking a step towards you as you narrowed your eyes up at him.

"You what?" You laughed softly.

"They figured it out," Axel explains with a slight grin. "Someone can't keep their hands off me."

You rolled your eyes playfully, shoving him away from you softly, unable to hide your shy smirk.

"Whatever, you're the one that's always hanging off me," you flip your hair over your shoulder.

"I can't help it, you're irresistible," he says nonchalantly making you blush. "Now, let's win some more tickets because I see a stuffed dragon begging me to win it for you."

"You're ridiculous," you scoffed glancing over at the pink dragon sitting on one of the shelves behind the counter.

"You love it," Axel teases you, quickly pecking your forehead.

"Fine, but only because you made me lose," you say grabbing ahold of his hand, leading him to another game.

Axel can't help but smile at his girl, enjoying every minute she dragged him around.

"So cute," Sam cooes as she inserted her game card into a game of ski ball, seeing Axel and (Y/n) walk hand in hand toward the air hockey table.

"Adorable," Robby nods his head in agreement.

"Wait!" Axel stops you two in your place, making you come to a halt. "'Let's do this real quick."

"Axel," you groaned as he pushed you into a photo booth. You sighed as he shut the curtain closed from prying eyes, and slid a five dollar bill into the machine.

"You will love it, come here," he places an arm over your shoulder making you scoot back into his hold, wanting to be annoyed.

"I hate pictures," you grumble as you waited for the countdown.

"Not with me you don't," he says teasingly leaning in close to you to press a sloppy kiss against your cheek making you push him away as you laughed.

"That was perfect," he grinned seeing it pop on the screen, perfectly capturing your relationship. "Let's do something silly."

You decide to go along with the boy you adored, and stick your tongue out holding up a peace sign as he copied your same pose.

"Okay, now sweet," he suggests, his expression softening. He leaned his forehead against yours, his bright blue eyes catching your breath, like they always do.

"Axel," you murmered, feeling a flutter of warmth spread through you.

He grinned before molding your lips with his own, the final flash capturing the sweet moment. When he pulls back, you're flustered but peck his lips one last time.

The screen displayed the photo strip preview, and Axel reached out to grab the print as it slid out of the machine. He held it up with a triumphant smile.

"Look at that beautiful smile," he says pointing at the first picture where you're fighting to hold back a smile as you push him away in the photo.

"Gross," you fake gag.

"Hey, it's my favorite thing about you, you know?" Axel defends your feature. You look up at him with curious eyes.

"Really?" Your tone is genuine, a certain look of innocence Axel hardly ever saw.

"I thought it was obvious," he remarks pulling his phone out, and opening his gallery. He wiped through rows of phots of you smiling, some of them you weren't even looking at the camera.

"I love to see you smile," he exclaims, still scrolling through more photos. You can't help but smile, actually smile, with the way your heart melts as he looks at your pictures fondly.

Axel's eyes wonder over to you as you admire the photographs.

"That's my girl," he says proudly making you shake your head.

"Yeah, you still owe your girl some nachos and a slushy," you remind him playfully as you both moved to leave the booth.

"Yes dear," he replies with a mock-serious tone, staring down at you lovingly.

Your group of friends walk up to you, peering over your shoulder to see the photos.

"What were you two doing in there?" Miguel teases you as he bumped his shoulder against yours making you roll your eyes.

"Getting proof," Axel said confidently, pulling out the photo strip and holding it up for everyone to see. "She loves me!"

"Axel!" you whined as everyone closed in on him, taking in the pictures.

"Freaking adorable," Tory states giving you a sideways smile.

"Who knew (Y/n) smiled," Robby eggs you on making you frown.

"See what you did," you said snatching the photo out of Axel's grip. "You're messing with my street cred!"

"Worth it," he shrugged, completely unbothered. "I will buy you Reese's to make up for it."

You perked up at the idea of the peanut butter dessert. "Fine."

As you walked along with Sam and Tory, Miguel and Robby fell back behind with Axel.

"They have us wrapped around their fingers, don't they?" Robby sighed out referring to their girlfriends whom walked ahead of them, sharing laughter.

"Oh for sure," Miguel agrees.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Axel grinned, already thinking of ways on how to win you that pink dragon that called your name.

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

(a/n: OMGGG I loved writing this!!! It was so cute and fun, I might write more on this trope. Thank you for this request!!)

[seongwars]

hiraeth | jeon wonwoo

model!wonwoo x veterinarian!reader genre: fluff, no real angst

I really want to start my wonwoo series but I have too many wips at the moment so this will have to suffice 😭

You and Wonwoo grew up as childhood friends and next-door neighbors in a small countryside town. You both dreamed of moving to the city—you to become a veterinarian and him to pursue a career as a photographer.

But tragedy struck when your sister and brother-in-law were killed in a car accident, leaving behind your baby niece. You decided to stay in your hometown, attending a local university to take care of your niece and grandmother. Meanwhile, Wonwoo moved to the city, where he was unexpectedly street-cast as a model and quickly rose to fame.

Your friendship falls apart when Wonwoo comes home for winter break, and you both get into a heated argument when he tells you that he's ashamed he grew up in a place like this and that you'd never be good enough to make it like he did.

That was the last time you'd ever spoken to him.

A decade later, Wonwoo unexpectedly returns home, shocking everyone. No one knows why, but the paparazzi and fans flood the town trying to figure out his whereabouts. Wonwoo tries to evade the paparazzi and his rabid fans and hides out in Mr. Kwon's barn.

Meanwhile you're helping Mr. Kwon find his missing cow, and it turns out she gave birth to a calf in a field. All is well until a bunch of cars speed by, potentially stressing out the cow and her calf. Stupid city slickers!

You return to the barn and find Wonwoo hiding. Obviously, you rebuff him but then point out he's covered in poop.

Later at dinner, his dad reveals that these rich developers keep coming to town trying to convince people to sell their land and there's lots of resistance from the locals. But they keep getting threatened by these city folk!

Oh and you're being romanced by Choi Seungcheol, your niece's gym teacher.

Wonwoo doesn't like that.

You and Wonwoo somehow always seem to cross paths. Whether its dropping your niece off at school or making a farm call, he always has on a dumb disguise.

The only person in town who seems thrilled about the sudden rise in tourism is the town head, Lee Jihoon. Because money.

Sometime later, your grandmother invites Wonwoo and his dad over for dinner, and lo and behold Choi Seungcheol is also there.

It turns out that Seungcheol is originally from the city but took the teaching job in the countryside because it was too competitive in the city. Sure, Jan.

You get an emergency call from Mr. Kim because his dog Kimja is having a difficult labor. You rush over, doing everything you can to help her. Despite your best efforts, Kimja doesn’t make it, and neither do the rest of the litter, except for one tiny, puppy.

Wonwoo, still awake, sees you coming home and you're a sobbing mess. He musters the courage to reach out to you, and you kind of just rant about how you did everything to try and help her and the rest of the litter but you failed.

"You did your best and that's all that matters."

You bury your face in his shoulder, unable to stop the tears. It’s been years since you’ve felt this defeated. As a veterinarian, you’ve faced so many challenges, but nothing like this. Never something so completely out of your control.

Wonwoo admits that he came home because he also felt like a failure. He was supposed to play the lead role in an up-and-coming movie by the famous director Yoon Jeonghan, but the project was put on hold due to Jeonghan's frustration with Wonwoo's inability to act convincingly as they looked for a new lead.

"He said I couldn't act my way out of a paper bag."

So, Wonwoo came home to reevaluate his life choices and decide if he could start over.

You tell him he absolutely can, that it's not too late. But that he shouldn't give up or let some city boy take his place.

"You're gonna let some city boy prove he's better than you? Go take back what's yours!"

You both reconcile and you go home.

The next day, those darn developers come back, and the townsfolk are out protesting. You, your grandma, your niece, Wonwoo, and his dad are all there, standing with the protestors.

One of the developers recognizes him, even with glasses, and mentions that his daughter is a big fan.

"Wonwoo? Famous? Nahhh," the townsfolk laugh, waving it off like the developer must have mistaken him for someone else.

The developers approach Wonwoo and attempt to sway him to their side. They want him to convince the town to sell their land so they can build their fancy golf course. But Wonwoo refuses outright because this is the place that raised him, and no amount of money or pressure can change that.

Using his star power, Wonwoo pulls every string he can to get the developers to back off. In the process, he uncovers a shocking twist: Turns out, Seungcheol was a spy for the developers and, to top it off, the son of one of them!

Wonwoo tells you the truth, and with a heavy heart, you end things with Seungcheol.

"He was too perfect," you sighed.

Thanks to the power of privilege and friendship, Wonwoo manages to help save the town from the developers.

While everyone is celebrating, Wonwoo tells you he's going to go back to the city and convince Director Yoon to give him another shot.

"Make sure you rub it in his face when you win an award for that role."

Over the next few months, Wonwoo visits home between shoots, and you both rekindle your friendship—and something more. It's in the way his eyes linger on you just a moment too long.

Or after a particularly long day, you find yourselves sitting on the roof of his parent's house, eating ramen. Somewhere between conversations of the past and future, his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining in a quiet, tender gesture.

The night of the Golden Carat Awards rolls around, and everyone gathers in the courtyard of the town center to watch the ceremony.

Wonwoo’s name is announced among the nominees for Best New Actor, and the crowd quiets instantly.

“And the winner for Best New Actor is…” The announcer pauses dramatically, drawing out the moment.

“Jeon Wonwoo!”

When his name is called, you let out a little gasp, unable to help the way a smile breaks across your face as the crowed erupts into chaos. Wonwoo’s dad, who had been sitting quietly at the start of the evening, is now sobbing uncontrollably.

“That’s my son!”

Your heart swells with pride as the camera pans to Wonwoo, standing from his seat to hug the people around him before making his way to the stage.

“I really didn’t think I’d be standing here tonight. Thank you to the Golden Carat committee, my team, the amazing cast and crew I’ve been lucky enough to work with—and, of course, my fans. None of this would’ve been possible without you.”

Wonwoo pauses, glancing down at the trophy for a moment. You wonder if he’s collecting his thoughts or trying not to cry. Then, he looks back up, his expression softer now, almost shy.

“I’d like to thank my family for their unwavering support,” he continues, his voice quieter but no less heartfelt. “And…” He hesitates, his lips curling into a faint smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“My guiding light. Someone who’s been my source of inspiration to keep fighting against those city boys, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

The courtyard falls silent as every single person turns to look at you and you can't help but sink lower into your chair.

“Marry him already!” Mr. Kim yells.

When Wonwoo returns, he’s standing on your doorstep with a bouquet of wildflowers your niece helped him pick out, grinning from ear to ear. He promises that he'd be happy waiting for you to come home, taking care of the laundry while you help animals.

So you take him up on his offer.

[ofmdrecaps]

01/05-08/2025 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; OFMD Recaps on Mastodon; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Samba Schutte; Wee John Wednesdays/Kristian Nairn; Rachel House; Dominic Burgess; Kristen Johnston; Hugo Pierre Martin; Aotearoa Treaty Principles Bill Submissions; Articles; AdoptOurCrew: Call To Action; LettersToSeaForSeason3; Fan Spotlight: Jax/North FL OFMD Cosplay/ Fandom Meet Up; Love Notes/Resources;

== OFMD Recaps on Mastodon! ==

Some awesome news! The absolute sweetest person alive, Lowrah (https://gaypirates.club/@lowrah) has been kind (and brave) enough to join my team and create an OFMD Recaps for Mastodon! She has offered to help crosspost the recaps over to Mastodon (blorbo.social) and manage that which I appreciate so much because I am completely inept at that site! She's also the one helping me with all the alt text (that I am behind at updating tumblr with sorry!) so please send her some massive love if you see her around because she is helping me out so much right now! One thing to note -- Since she's on the other side of the world for me, the recaps cross-posted there will be a bit delayed, so please bare with us :) Thank you so much Laura for all your help! You can check it out here!

Source: OFMD Recaps Mastodon

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

= David Jenkins =

David's giving us some interesting updates on the eve of the first cancellation of S2.

Source: David Jenkins bsky

= Rhys Darby =

Rhys was in Auckland recording the first Cryptid Factor show of 2025! For all of you Cryptid Factor fans out there, he's also finally gotten to come in contact with the Sir Ed YETI Expedition backpack!

Source: The Cryptid Factor's IG

= Taika Waititi =

The Golden Globes celebrations were this past weekend and Taika was everywhere!

Source: Loop Mag

Source: Instagram

Source: VasJMorgan's Instagram

= Samba Schutte =

"14 years in LA today✨ Arrived on Ethiopian Christmas with one suitcase and 5 guiding steps I had come up with in my hut while staying in a remote Kenyan village, for my future self who would eventually make it to Hollywood. Hope you’re proud Past Samba🫶"

Source: Samba's Instagram

= Kristian Nairn and Nathan Foad =

Some great news! Wee John Wednesday is back on Wednesday the 15th! This news also has some clown potential, so please clown responsibly everyone!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Bsky

Kristian is also going to be attending MegaConLive in Dublin on January 18-19, 2025! Get your tickets at megaconlive.com!

Source: MegaConlive Instagram

= Rachel House =

Rachel House was out with friends looking badass!

Source: Maria Lewis IG

= Dominic Burgess =

Dominic is back from the UK and posted some great "Beef" pics from Skeleton Crew. He fits the Star Wars Vibe so well!

Source: Dominic's bsky

Dominic and several of our other cast members live in California so a lot of folks are being affected by the fires. I'll try to post what I can about safety/news but for now, looks like Dominic and family are prepared.

Source: Dominic's Bsky

= Kristen Johnston =

Our "The Widow Evelyn" is now on Bluesky too! Special thanks to @jilliansauers for catching her!

Source: Kristen Johnston's bsky

= Hugo Pierre Martin =

Our friend and crewmate Hugo Pierre Martin is on Bluesky now! HPM's Bluesky

Source: HPM's Bluesky

= Aotearoa Treaty Principles Bill Submissions =

Now, I generally try to keep "politics" out of the recaps because this is meant to be a positive space for the fans-- but I do know that A LOT of our cast and crew are affected by this bill personally so I do want to throw this in there. It looks like you don't actually have to be a resident of Aotearoa to submit your feelings on the bill. Here is helpful linktree with things you can say and how to submit that I tracked down via a post Rachel House reposted.

Source: NZGreenParty

== Articles ==

Thank you @adoptourcrew! You are article maniacs! So many in so little time! Thank you for always sharing!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Bsky

== Call To Action From AOC ==

January 9, 2024 marks the first cancellation of S2 of our beloved Show. Our fan-crew, @adoptourcrew has asked that you help support our show by: 1. Taking Action 2. Sharing your love 3. Showing your pride. In short-- sign a petition, share something about the show, tell the world how it affected you! If you can get the #OurFlagMeansDeath, #SaveOFMD and #AdoptOurCrew in there, that's great too! Show all the new and seasoned fans how much you love the show!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Bsky

== Letters To Sea For Season 3 ==

The Letters to Sea for Season 3 campaign that was being spearheaded by the darling Molly, aka aproperpirate, is finally coming to fruition! Tomorrow is the day the letters should be arriving! Molly had a special message to share re the letting writing campaign!

Source: AProperPirate's Bluesky

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Jax/North FL OFMD Cosplay/ Fandom Meet Up =

Florida crew! One of the Truly Docked members @ladymekaella is hosting a little get together in Jacksonville on Jan 19! Wanna join in? Follow them on facebook! Deets below!

1/19/2025 11am - 2pm, Atlantic Beach, FL 32233

Source: Truly Docked Instagram

== Love Notes / Resources ==

Hey Lovelies, I know 01/09/25 is going to be a very mixed feeling kind of day for everyone. It's the anniversary of the first time S2 was cancelled. It's going to bring up a lot of sad feelings, and you should absolutely sit with those feelings and embrace them. It was a rough time for all of us. There's no shame in feeling that grief again. I know I didn't show it much, but I cried so many times. Seriously, like SO MANY TIMES. My parents asked me if someone whacked me in the face with a shovel (which, thanks folks, I feel so pretty) but it was true-- I was devastated. It was a slow burn for me too because I wanted so very much to keep up hope. Seeing you all really push for the show helped keep me going-- and helped me learn more about how to cope with that kind of grief (and it was grief for so many of us because the show meant so very much-- and changed some of us at our core). No matter how tomorrow makes you feel though, I do want to remind you what came of it. This beautiful community rallied together and did some absolutely AMAZING things this past year (I wish I hadn't been sick this past two weeks cause I wanted to get you some stats). From billboards, to faxing, and calling in to Max, and Netflix, and Amazon, and Apple TV, to raising a SHIT TON of money for SO MANY charities-- to making beautiful works of art and fiction-- to making our cast and crew (not just the actors) feel loved and impactful-- this cancellation brought SO MANY OF US TOGETHER. People stepped out of their comfort zones-- talked to people they didn't know, reached out to streaming platforms and learned to use their voices in ways they'd never done before. We all built our own little communities within the fandom, bit by bit-- and those little communities have spread so much love, and kindness, and made life worth living for so many of us. It's been almost a year for my recaps too-- those officially started on Jan 13th, once again, because of the cancellation, and because of the camaraderie of the crew and all the support we all gave each other. Jan 9 is probably a tough day for most of us, but it's also the catalyst for so many wonderful things, and I'm so very grateful for it in a way. I've gotten to know so many of you, gotten to experience your joy, and participate in your struggles, and vice versa. I've met so many people from all over the world I'd never have once dreamt I could meet-- and I know SO MANY of you have too. This fandom is one of a kind-- and this special show and it's cancellation brought us together. I am still in full clown mode at all times, and I believe S3 is an inevitability, it's just a matter of when-- but no matter when it happens, I'm grateful we got this past year together, and all that came with it. So thank you lovelies. Thank you for being a huge part of my life, and turning it in a much better direction I could ever have thought possible given where I was. Lean on each other tomorrow, okay? We got through this past year together, and we'll get through whatever happens going forward, as a crew. Take care of yourself lovelies, drink some water, and get some sleep. Love you <3

= Resources =

Outside of the fandom in my day job, I work for a company that works with 211's and non profits, and so resources are really important to me. I have a lot I'm aware of, but if anyone has more they'd like to share around, please let me know! I'm happy to spread the word to help people get support they need right now!

For those of you in California or who know some folks who are-- please be sure to download the Watch Duty App, it keeps track and notifies you of nearby fires in real time.

In addition here's some additional info on go bags if you are in the evacuation areas:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Brown Issues (@brownissues)

Source: Brown Issues Instagram

Also looks like Airbnb will be pairing up with LA 211 to offer shelter for those evacuated from the Palisades fire. You can visit www.211la.org for more information.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Drew Droege (@drew_droege)

Source: Drew Doege's Instagram

As I hear more resources I'll try to share more in the recaps/on socials. I hope you all are staying safe out there!

[oceanwithouthermoon]

I like your saiteru posts but I can't shake the idea that Teruhashi only loves the idea of Saiki and not actually Saiki, especially since she hated when he gave her a glimpse of himself when he was competitive during their date.

ive seen this take floating around a few times, this whole "teruhashis mental image of saiki is wrong" "teruhashi wouldnt love him if she got to know him" "teruhashi hated any time she saw his REAL personality" and i just dont get it because like...

this scene?? the scene where hes being inconsiderate, rude, not taking her feelings into account, making her play games she doesnt even want to play, acting like a gooner, etc? THIS is the scene you thought was him showing her a glimpse of what hes really like??? where did you get that from?/genq

hes competitive, yeah, but this… isnt being competitive, its just being an asshole. thats not what hes like when hes trying to win. him wanting to win games and show off with his powers is not equivalent to being an inconsiderate tryhard who wants to make everyone do what he wants with no thought to what they want…

but youre ALSOOOOO forgetting that she actually did end up being like… “hehe i still wuv him 😚” after this…

so.. on THAT note, i need everyone to pay really really close attention to what im about to say…

she loves him when hes rude, inconsiderate, pushy, competitive…

she loves him when hes open, popular, kind, powerful, reading her mind…

she loves him when hes gloomy, monotone, boring, quiet…

she loves him when hes a GIRL.

so why is the conclusion here “she wouldnt love him for the real him”? the logical conclusion here seems to be “she would love him no matter what”

WHAT ABOUT THAT DOESNT SCREAM “LOVE”?

and regarding her "only loving his persona the same way people only love teruhashis", i think everything above disproves that anyway but i have to go more into it because not only have you misunderstood me but this also implies you think none of saiki and teruhashis friends truly love them at all 😭

saikis quiet, boring self isnt completely not him. its still him, just a different side of him than you might be used to as a viewer. you guys have to understand that although, yes, he is masking and putting up a front, that doesnt mean EVERY part of him that people see is fake 😭 its the same with teruhashi, she doesnt have a single tangible "true" self entirely on the inside and a single tangible "fake" self entirely on the outside, its NOT completely black and white! PEOPLE arent completely black and white!

youre forgetting that me saying those guys (the kokomins and all those gross ew men) dont love her because they dont know and see her was accompanied by a picture of them literally asking her to continue validating them immediately after she woke up from passing out 😭 they quite literally dont love or care about her, not even about her image, they just like the idea of her image and want her to make them feel good. the whole "nobody sees and knows and loves her" doesnt apply in the same way to yumehara and their other friends, they may not truly see her with the same depth that saiki does but that doesnt mean their care for her is fake, because they DONT care more about her image than just her and being in her company even if they do still see the parts of her that ARE fake.

you cant just take the idea that they fake a lot of themselves around others and morph that into "every single thing people see of them is fake and every single thing they dont see is an accurate representation of their true selves", it just doesnt work like that 😭 regardless of saikis power and silliness and sweetness and competitiveness, hes still a quiet guy with a gloomy face. and regardless of teruhashis cuntiness (lol) and competitiveness and obsessiveness and silliness, shes still a sweet girl who enjoys making people happy. they can be BOTH and thats okay!

this misunderstanding is like youre hearing someones thoughts and thinking "oh what a blunt person" like well... no because not everything in your head defines your personality or is something youd ever want or need to say aloud. everyone thinks crazy things, had wrong initial impressions, etc, do you see my point?? am i getting this across properly??? saiki still enjoys sitting in his house and doing nothing but eating coffee jelly and playing video games and teruhashi still enjoys when she makes people happy, those things arent fake just because they contribute to their fake personas... saiki also would not have been singing and doing standup or whatever the hell people are convinced he wouldve been doing at the mixer with someone hes "more comfortable" with, he doesnt do that shit around anyone 😭 not around his family and not around the psychickers, so im not sure where people got the idea that her thinking he would sit there and do nothing was her not understanding him or that the way he was making the guys act was how he truly wants to act 😭 he can sing and crack jokes but he never has around anyone so we dont know if thats what he wants to do, i dont even remember him making jokes aloud to the psychickers other than being a little sassy ☠️ the most i remember is him making short silly jokes to tease his dad or toritsuka... you guys just assume that hes the type of guy to stand up and sing and yell and make everyone roll over laughing because idk... maybe you cant stand the idea that your fav might not be a sexy loud confident alpha male and might actually be a little guy who loves video games and watching people and being a little brat on occasion ☠️

i feel like this take is just you guys taking both their insecurities SUPER seriously, because what else could be making you think that ANYONE who doesnt know about his powers doesnt truly love or care for saiki??

anyway... it clearly just doesnt matter to her how he acts because she just loves him and enjoys his company no matter what. thats love.

[rapidhighway]

I like to think that if metal wasn't yknow, metal, he would go out of his way to NOT hate sonic. Not out of gratitude or anything but because he was programmed to hate sonic by eggman and he is so spiteful he refuses to hate sonic on principle just to piss off eggman. Sonic is like "hey! Now you're not a robot do you wanna go get lunch?" And metal is like (fists clenched so hard it hurts) (teeth grinding) "ok Bud" (death glare) sonic just thinks he doesn't know how to emote anything but anger but no thats just because he's talking to sonic. Existing around sonic pisses him off so much but hes like WE ARE FRIENDS. I DON'T HATE HIM. FUCK YOU, PROGRAMMING. I DO WHAT I WANT <- so mad his heart hurts

I think that's a pretty fun hc and it would be interesting but personally it opposes my own key hcs about Metal Sonic.

I like to think that he is not completely a slave to his programming or more like, there is actually a person in there, and not just a sentient robot but something strange, like a mix between metal and organic, just inherently, because of the way Metal was made (with Sonic's biodata - and Sonic is already weird on like a, metaphysical plane, he's like the universe's special guy).

I think him being a copy of Sonic specifically makes Metal a weird anomaly in the world and allows him more of a mind of his own and kind of a 'soul' or an 'energy' of an organic being. Similar to your hc I kind of treat programming Metal as a kind of mind control that he can fight off, but he doesn't because he doesn't really want to because the part of him that is capable of breaking free is conditioned by Eggman. Plus Metal's obsession with being the real Sonic and such.

(Due to all this I really like @/generic-sonic-fan's take on this in their fanfic Complex Inquiries, where Metal concludes that the way to move forward and be free to do whatever it wants is to just go its own way and never see Sonic again, just find a life that's completely away from Sonic etc, I really liked that.)

I actually think, that since Metal is used to being just angry and mostly only feeling hate all the time, with complete free will he would start defaulting to that. (he'd even hate Sonic for one more reason and that's for causing him to lose his robotic form - a thing he'd actually secretly wished to happen but once he is organic, he realizes it sucks and doesn't help him defeat Sonic at all, and his free will only confuses him more lmao, do here's an additional reason to despise Sonic)

But Metal trying to befriend Sonic despite everything just to experiment with breaking his mess of a brain after becoming free from his programming is a really interesting idea and I actually don't think it couldn't happen, I just don't think it would last lmao. Unless Metal worked very hard to forge himself a new identity that doesn't revolve around Sonic, but I don't think he would for a very long time.. He is literally too stubborn (just like sonic ^^) to give up his own identity like that. It means too much to him (just like Sonic ^^) But like, your idea would still be possible if, but it would take a whileeee, and idk if Metal, once he's trying to do his own thing and trying to get an identity, would be happy about completely siding with Sonic. He just needs something of his own that doesn't include Sonic or Eggman...

Ughh okay this is long, I just think it would take Metal a while to not be a shaking ball of hate about everything and everyone... And that his actions and personality as Eggman's henchman and evil robot run deeper than just his programming. And I'm not even saying I would write about Metal leaving Sonic completely behind to start leading a life of free will, I need him to stay and be center of the attention until he dies a horrible death or something idk yet xd so he wouldn't figure that out very quickly.