#if i can be anything and do anything than what am i now?
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tomdayaland · 15 hours ago
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"The big news this week is a good example of just such an opportunity for me - are they/aren’t they engaged?
Zendaya wearing a ring and Tom nowhere to be seen adding to the intrigue.
The engagement has now been confirmed and why I am writing about it here but without adding anything new and juicy like a date, venue, guest list…
Down the years, I have been showered with parenthood praise even though much of it has been fluke and happenstance more than any finely honed plan. And this I can demonstrate now by contrasting the different approaches of father and son to proposing marriage.
Tom, as you know by now was very incredibly well prepared.
He had purchased a ring.
He had spoken with her father and gained permission to propose to his daughter.
Tom had everything planned out…
When, where, how, what to say, what to wear…
I on the other hand was woefully ill-prepared, almost as though I wasn’t taking it seriously.
(...) For most blokes, the stress of purchasing an engagement ring is being able to afford it. I suspect that this was the least of Tom’s worries, more concerned with the stone, it's size and clarity, its housing, which jeweller
(...) which brings me to the newly engaged couple.
I do fret that their combined stardom will amplify their spotlight and the commensurate demands on them and yet they continually confound me by handling everything with aplomb.
And even though show-business is a messy place for relationships and particularly so for famous couples as they crash and burn in public and are too numerous to mention, with us an example, with Nikki helming this family and my ‘wisdom’ on tap and a study in getting things mostly wrong and yet somehow right at the same time, I am completely confident they will make a successful union."
Dom's blog about Tomdaya's engagement. 🥺
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salemlunaa · 2 days ago
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ೄྀsome of you STILL don’t understandೄྀ
you must get comfortable in your god state to really succeed
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ೄྀPART I | STOP NEGOTIATING WITH THE 3D
To get comfortable in your god state you need to understand that it is you ALONE that manifests. Stop consuming and spreading misinformation, you don’t have to “meet in the middle”with the 3D for your manifestations.
“If you want your dream bod to be manifested you have to stand firm AND workout”
“If you want to manifest clear skin, it’s good to visualise but you should also be focusing on skincare”
“If you want to manifest good grades you can affirm but you actually have to study”
“You can’t expect to manifest when you aren’t bothering to do anything in the 3D”
bullshit. absolute bullshit
although it’s important to still take care of your necessities, there’s no such thing as meeting halfway for your desires. If you think that you don’t understand what manifestation is. And with the assumption that it is, means that you don’t understand your full potential. As soon as you think of a desire it’s yours, no negotiating needs to be done with the 3D. All you have to do is stand firm.
Why are you making deals with the 3D?, “okay, okay if i workout in the 3d and manifest my dream body in my 4d it will come” that just isn’t needed
“okay but it does help things move faster” “it does help things become a little easier” nope, still wrong!
you don’t have to lift a finger for something that’s already yours. never. same goes for inducing pure consciousness, you don’t have to spend hours saturating your conscious mind in order to shift. You can have the worst day and still induce pure consciousness because that’s all it is: a state of consciousness.
ೄྀPART II | EVERYTHING YOU DO IS PERFECT
To get comfortable in your god state you must also understand that you’re doing it all right. Stop asking dumb questions, you’re doing everything correct. The fact that you rely on bloggers to tell you if you should do this or that as if they’re your god shows that you don’t truly understand (and it’s getting really frustrating).
“will i still be able to induce pure consciousness if I lay on my side rather than in a starfish position?”
“do i have to affirm?”
“what if i don’t do this one blogger’s method to the minute details, does this mean i won’t shift?”
asking stupid questions like these confirms that you still don’t understand the extent of your power, you still don’t understand who you are.
And if you don’t understand, you will never progress, treating this like a chore that you have to perfect is where you go wrong. As a god, everything you do is correct, you could even induce pure consciousness by standing straight up and singing heavy metal at the top of your lungs, because what ever you say goes.
Stop sitting back up after minute 5 of it “not working” to check if you’re doing that method correctly. Why does you living your dream life depend on other people’s rules, are they the gods of your reality or is it you?
And you do know this still counts as you putting the void state on a pedestal? There are people who find out about pure consciousness and induce it that same day. Get your head in the game.
1: You don’t have to lift a finger for your dream life
2: You’re doing everything correct, you are “I AM” trust that and you’ll induce in no time
Both of these things, negotiating with the 3D and asking if your doing it right in YOUR OWN reality are signs that you don’t trust yourself enough. Learn to actually trust yourself and accept your fate as a god and you’ll have everything you dream of
NOW GO GO GO, GO GET YOUR DREAM LIFE
🍵🪷To understand and succeed you must trust yourself
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caffeinewitchcraft · 5 hours ago
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I love writing. The first thing I do when I get up is write, the last thing I do before I go to sleep is write. Between reading horror/fantasy/speculative fiction books, I read books on craft by anyone and everyone. My passions in life are the craft of writing AND storytelling.
Note: those are two different things. Having a story to tell and craft (the way we tell that story).
I am not saying that people who use AI to tell a story don't have a story to tell. They do! But that doesn't make them writers.
We have folktales across every culture about not accepting ourselves for who we are and that way leading to madness. Your version might go a little something like this:
A person who feels different than everyone else wishes to whoever is listening that they wake up beautiful/smart/charming. In the morning they wake to a mirror at the foot of their bed. Their reflection is all of those things! Filled with confidence, they go out into the world but, before meeting anyone, they catch sight of themself in a window. Their reflection normal but (having seen themself in the mirror) they now perceive themself as hideous.
They rush back home to check. In the mirror they're beautiful! What a relief. They stare deeply into the glass. Slowly their hair grows tangled and their clothing ragged. Days and weeks and months pass. They can't do anything without watching themself do it in the mirror. Dishes are done at the sink with the mirror blocking the window they used to love looking at the garden through. They wake with the mirror in bed with them rather than their lover. Etc, etc.
Using generative AI is like that mirror. Surface level, it makes things pretty. It may be entertaining and it may convey the story you want to convey.
But it's not your voice. It's your story, but not your voice. And it will trick you into thinking there is something wrong with your voice, that the way you tell stories is hideous, that you are incapable of the craft of writing. It will lie to you and you will live your whole life feeling disconnected from your own stories because something else is telling them for you.
That's why I'm against AI. Because I love writing. I love the way people tell stories, imperfect or perfect, because it's people telling them. Writers grow and change. Their punctuation choice, their word choice, their choice of form matter to a written story. There is connection in those decisions. A deeper level to a story that AI can never touch, only a person can.
So, please. Give your own voice a chance to grow and be heard.
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joonsytip · 2 days ago
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Something About You || Woozi
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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 ]
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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.
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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.
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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.
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"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."
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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."
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"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.
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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."
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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."
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"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.
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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.
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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.
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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."
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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."
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→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.
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multifandumbmeg · 3 days ago
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There are things that exist to help you *understand* and then there is bullshit made up by a computer that does not understand nuance, context, connotation, humor, emotion, or any of the other things that go into literature. If you just need to catch up and have something to say in class because you didn't have the time, energy, or resources to read, go to the fucking sparknotes. It is a website for free you can find via google that will summarize anything ever remotely considered part of the English canon ("classics").
If you just don't want to read something for pleasure.... DON'T!!! YOU CAN SAY NO! YOU CAN TELL YOUR FRIEND YOU JUST DON'T HAVE THE ENERGY OR TIME RIGHT NOW!! COME BACK LATER!! For the love of God I am BEGGING YOU to stop looking for these easy outs to prevent yourself from ever feeling any kind of discomfort. Discomfort is a part of life. Every time you just "press the avoid button" you are lowering your own tolerance for when you can't.
Learn what your own actual limitations are. Learn how to find resources. Learn how to navigate discomfort and other negative feelings rather than blaming and making it everyone else's problem. Learn to ask for help. Learn to just admit you don't know things. Do you know how can you can start learning all these things??
BY. TRYING.
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what is HAPPENING
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the-witty-pen-name · 3 days ago
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The Love Triangle From Hell (3)
Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader
Synopsis: Following PART TWO, Steve feels even more distant from his friends- especially you; Eddie reflects on memories he has of you two; Nancy and Jonathan work together for the paper; Robin does her best to navigate what being friends with you and Steve looks like; you seek comfort in one of the only ways you know how- calling Eddie
Series Masterlist
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; allusions to violence; miscommunication; jealousy; kissing; implications of smut; horniness
A/N: You guys are literally the absolute best. I am having the best time writing this- I'm so inspired by all of you. The love you have shown this fic so far has me overwhelmed. Thank you for your kind words, you have helped me work through some serious writer's block. Your comments and reblogs are keeping me going fr
This is unedited; please let me know what you think and if I missed anything I should include as a warning.
This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI
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His hands are tangled in your hair and he’s pulling you in close for another searing kiss. He can’t catch his breath, but he’s just so desperate to stay close to you like this. Your lips are so soft against his and your mouth is so inviting as you yank him closer. You whimper against his lips and it makes him shiver. He feels weak in the knees as you feel so pliable to his touch. You melt into his embrace and sigh happily as his lips trail down your neck. 
“Want you,” you moan softly, tugging his hair. He groans at the sensation. “Need you so bad.” 
“‘M gonna take care of you,” he promises, bringing his lips back to yours. 
“Love you,” you moan.
Before he finds out  if he says it back, his alarm goes off and he’s brought back to his reality. He groans disappointedly, covering his ears with his pillow- desperate for a couple more minutes with dream you. There’s a bang at his door. 
“Steve! Turn that shit off!” Eddie calls from the other side of the door. He’s yelling but his tone is playful. Steve hits his alarm off and drudges out of bed finally. Eddie has coffee made and Steve forgets anything is wrong at the moment. 
“Did she say anything last night?” Steve asks groggily as he pours himself a cup. 
“Um, not really,” Eddie replies, taking a moment to think about it. “I mean, yes but not about anything that we don’t know already. She’s conflicted, she doesn’t know what to think or feel. She just wants time.” 
“Okay,” Steve replies, leaning up against the counter. He takes a sip of his coffee. He needs to get to work. He can talk about this with Robin when he gets there. 
When you called Eddie, you didn’t expect Steve to answer. You thought maybe he’d say something- you wanted him too. But he didn’t. You couldn’t read him anymore.
Eddie was thrilled to hear your voice. He’d missed you, and he’d missed talking to you. He wanted that piece back as soon as he could get it. He reveled in the way his name sounded coming from you. 
“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, “I didn’t mean to upset Steve- I heard the way he dropped the phone down…” 
“It’s okay sweetheart,” he says compassionately. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 
He’s met with a sad feeling of silence. 
“I’m happy you called,” he says gently. He hopes the sentiment makes you feel better. 
“I’ve missed you,” you admit, and Eddie feels like his heart might swell out of his chest. 
“It’s hard when the two people who you talk about everything with are the people you want to talk about,” you joke, and he laughs with you. 
“You can talk shit about me,” he teases and he hears you groan. He bites his lip, holding back a smile. 
“How are you doing?” You ask, changing the subject. 
“Much better now,” he flirts. 
“How are you doing, really?” You ask again, your voice sounding more fragile. 
“I meant, honestly- not great. But not worse than anyone else is doing right now.” 
“Yeah…” 
“I miss you a lot too,” he admits. He runs a hand through his hair, and it reminds him of how amazing it felt the last time you played with his hair. He’s craving that touch so badly. 
When you both were in high school, Eddie went out of his way to make sure you always had a seat at the table. He’d notice as you stood with your cafeteria tray, waiting for Steve to realize there was no open seat for you at his table. He’d wave obnoxiously to catch your eye and he’d smile at the way you’d get shy from the attention. He’d point at the empty seat next to him, and he’d grin as your eyes light up in realization you had a spot. You’d shuffle through the crowd and take your seat next to him. You’d take a seat and ruffle his hair in your hands. 
Eddie was always a creature of habit. As much as he exudes chaos, he actually thrives in having a routine. Don’t get him wrong- it’s never been a good routine… but it’s routine nonetheless. In high school it was a lot of the same. Tuesdays, Corroded Coffin played at The Hideout. He would get home way too late and never get in bed until close to 3am. Wednesday mornings, he’d sleep through his alarm and stroll into first period consistently 10ish minutes late. Thursdays he prepped for Hellfire, and then of course, the piece the resistance was Friday. Hellfire. An epic campaign that would run several hours and ensure the most recent shit week had been worth it to make it to that moment. 
He remembers that he was paralyzed when the group proposed to postpone Hellfire one time his first senior year. It snaps him out of his thoughts, as he was so wrapped up in you- and how close you were sitting. Eddie knew that hypothetically, it shouldn’t matter if the date changes. However, he couldn’t wrap his head around change. He hated it- still does. A disruption from his status quo throws off his entire week and it will take him too long to mentally recover. He knew that he came off as a hard ass, but he prefers it than trying to explain his mind to his friends. He had felt  his jaw tighten as he tried to rationalize with himself that it can be okay to switch it up. He unclenched his fists once he realized that he was making his knuckles white unintentionally. 
“Uh yeah, no problem. Saturday’s fine,” he was able to manage through gritted teeth. He relaxed when he could look past himself and see his friends smile, thanking him and happily chatting about the campaign. He smiled when he observed that his decision made everyone happy. That for him outweighed the internal struggle. 
He didn’t really listen to the reason everyone wanted to reschedule, but he picked up on after the fact that everyone is talking about the Snow Ball. He couldn’t help but recoil back into himself as his friends talked about their plans to go- who they’re asking, what suit they’re getting, what songs would play, and whatever. He couldn’t have cared less. Unless… 
His eyes wandered to sneak a glance at you. He wondered if you had plans- maybe you're hoping someone asks you. Maybe, he’s lucky and you were hoping that someone would be him. He wondered if you had a date. Maybe you already had been asked. It’s not like you had been aware of the way Eddie’s felt about you- unrequited feelings that tugged on his focus constantly since he’s known you. You caught his eye and offered him a shy smile and he could crumble. 
Eddie immediately averted his gaze, and focused his attention back on his friends. He ignored the way his face suddenly became so warm and he ignored the butterflies that were swarming around in his stomach. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on these feelings- he knew that there’s no way you feel the same. Who could possibly like him? 
He felt a pressure when the freshman looked at him, one of them having asked Eddie about his own plans. Eddie sees the way the kids look up to him, they idolize him. He knows they think he’s cool. He can’t let that go just yet, he loved it too much. He needed it. He wanted to have them hang on to this version of him for as long as they’d believe in it. 
So, despite his usual distaste in school sanctioned functions, he did not want to allow the kids to think he couldn’t score a date. He could only blame society so much before they realized it’s actually his own fear of putting himself out there that cramped his dating life more than anything else. He then resolves that he needs a date to this dance. He tells himself that it’s for the freshman, to keep up the cool facade or whatever. But in actuality, he just wanted to ask you because he wants to ask you out. It’s his perfect window of opportunity. 
“Oh, I hadn’t thought about it, honestly,” you said, when one of the freshmen asked you if you had plans. “I’d been so busy with the play, I haven’t had a chance.” Eddie watched as you glanced over to Steve’s table. “Steve and I usually would go to this kinda thing,” you said quickly, and Eddie could see your apprehension despite your best attempt to hide it. “We’ll probably go as friends again.” 
He said nothing. 
A few days later, you called Eddie and he could immediately tell you’re upset. You’re doing your best to hold it together but he can tell you’re almost at your breaking point. 
“Hey,” you say, your voice straining as you try not to cry. “I know this is totally not your thing, but I’m kind of in a bind.” 
“What can I do?” He asked, sitting up straight on his bed. He was getting ready to locate his shoes or his keys- thinking you’re in trouble somewhere. He’ddrop anything to come get you. 
“I know you’d probably rather do literally anything else, but um, I have two tickets to the Snow Ball and I already bought a dress…” 
“I thought you’d be going with Steve?” He asked. You sniffled. 
“Um, yeah I kind of just assumed he’d take me. I didn’t realize that he asked out Nancy Wheeler,” you choked back tears. “I mean it’s not like that,” you lied, maybe not to Eddie but more to yourself, “we’re just friends. But I still thought He and I would be going together like as friends again- you know? But, uh, yeah- he is taking like a real date.” 
“I know you’d hate it, and I will make it up to you. But, I already bought the tickets and I can’t get my money back. It’s like not a date or anything, just like a friend thing…” 
“I’d be happy to take you,” he replied, sincerely. He can tell you were expecting him to fight you on it. When would you catch on that he’s willing to do anything for you? 
“Eddie, thank you so much,” you sniffled, still trying your best to keep it cool. “I owe you one,” your voice cracks and you hang up quickly before he gets a chance to say anything. 
Eddie didn’t really understand back then why you were even friends with Steve to begin with. Eddie thought Steve, frankly, was a total douchebag. However, once he actually got to know Steve- it was a different story. He couldn’t resent Steve. He loved him like a brother now. And once Eddie got to know the Steve you’ve always known, your feelings for him made sense. But at the same time, Eddie held his tongue for all the things Steve did or didn’t do for so long. Steve was good guy at his core, Eddie understood. But his actions didn’t reflect that in Eddie’s eyes. But it wasn’t his place to tell you that. It didn’t seem right. You’d known Steve so much longer than him. 
Nancy and Jonathan invited you and Robin to go with them to watch Lucas’ basketball game. You were excited to get out of your little apartment and support Lucas. Jonathan was photographing it for The Hawkins Post. Jonathan paced up and down the court side to get photos, and you sat up in the bleachers with Nancy and Robin. You were never one to go to school things really, but it was Lucas’s senior year and it was a big game- of course you were going to be there. 
“It feels weird, Steve not being here,” Nancy whispers to you and you nod in agreement. 
“Yeah, everything just feels weird right now,” you agree. “You and Jonathan are okay?” 
“We’re good. We’re doing good, um, still working through stuff but we’re going to just work through it.” 
“That’s good.” 
“Robin?” Nancy asks, and Robin turns her head to pay attention. “How’s things with Vicky?” 
Robin’s face turns tomato red. “Fine,” she mumbles, happily. “I’m gonna hang out with her tomorrow.” You elbow her teasingly, making her blush redden. 
“How’s it feeling? Being the best at all of this out of us?” You tease. 
“I don’t know,” she’s so embarrassed, it’s so sweet. “We both just like each other- it’s not that complicated. She’s so great.” 
The three of you turn your attention back to the game at the sound of the whistle. You clapped and cheered the loudest whenever Lucas had the ball. He tried to plead with the lot of you to tone it down, casting weary looks in your direction. You couldn’t help yourselves. You felt so proud of him. 
You decide to take a walk to the concession stands and get some snacks for everyone. You order four sodas and two large popcorns- one for Jonathan and Nancy and one for you and Robin. You fish the cash out of the front pocket of your jeans, and hand it to the kid working the window. You thank him, and balance it all in your hands to navigate carefully back to the stands. 
You see a familiar face coming down the hallway, sprinting. For a moment, you can’t help the smile that forms across the expanse of your face until you remember what’s been going on. Your face falls, and you feel so stupid for being excited to see him when it hits you again all at once. 
You don’t think Steve knew you’d all be here, because he looks just as surprised to see you. He stops and his sneakers squeak across the polished gym floor. He looks at you with an expression of pure panic. He totally didn’t think you’d be here. And you’re surprised he came alone- but of course he did, he’s Steve. Of course, he’s going to show up to every game for Lucas. You shouldn’t expect any less. It still takes you back. 
“Can I help with those?” he asked, gesturing for you to pass some stuff to him. You nod, and tilt so he can take some of the things from your grasp. 
“Where are you sitting?” He asks, and you nod your head towards Robin and Nancy. His face deflates. “Ah, okay.” He walks over with you, and he passes the items in his hand off to Robin. He moves aside so you can walk back into your spot. 
“Thanks, Steve,” you offer him a soft smile, appreciating the effort despite the circumstances.
“Yeah of course,” he mutters, backing away, lingering for a moment because the seat that’s usually there for him between you and Robin isn’t there. He quickly pulls himself out of his thoughts and just heads over to the next row of bleachers, finding a seat next to a couple of his old basketball teammates that are here for their little brothers. 
Steve can’t even focus on the game,  he keeps trying to steal glances of you from his peripheral vision. He wants to know what Robin said that made you laugh like that, and he wished he could have heard your laugh- but you’re too far away from him. He watches as your jaw drops at something Nancy tells you, and he watches how you cheer so happily for Lucas. He wants to know if this is bothering you the way it’s bothering him. You look like you’re keeping it together and he wants to know if that could truly be the case. 
Even when you’re carrying so much hurt, you give off such a radiance that Steve and he’s sure everyone else is just drawn into. Your pretty smile and your bright eyes are all he can think about- he only knows when to cheer when he feels the people around him move. He smiles when you stand up and pose, pointing to Lucas- then Lucas matches it, giving it back to you. He watches as you both share that moment of just pure joy, and his heart aches. He doesn’t know if he could ever make you that happy. 
When the game was over, you looked to see if you could find Steve but there was no sign of him. You all invited Lucas to go out for celebratory pizza for his big win, but he wanted to go with his teammates. The plan fizzled pretty much after that. Robin wanted to get home so she could call Vicky and Jonathan and Nancy wanted to head home so Jonathan could start developing his photos. When you and Robin are walking out, you see a familiar van. 
“I’ll bum a ride from Nancy,” Robin assures you, pushing you in Eddie’s direction. She waves to Eddie from a distance and then jogs to catch up with Nancy and Jonathan. 
“What are you doing here?” you ask with a smile. He pushes himself off of the hood of his van and walks over to you, his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. 
“I thought you might be here,” he quips. “Plus, I had to poke my head in- Sinclair is some big shot apparently?” he jokes, “I had to check out for a few minutes.”
“He’s really great,” you agree. 
“Was Steve here?” Eddie asks. 
“Yeah I saw him. He didn’t really stay either- I mean he stayed for the game, but we didn’t talk really.” You shrug. 
“Well,” he says, trying to optimistically change the subject, “Do you wanna get out of here? I could give you a ride home or we could get food or something- or even just drive around and not talk. I’m not picky.” 
He looks so beautiful like this, you observe. The sky is pitch black but the lights in the parking lot illuminate him perfectly with a soft glow. His hair is wonderfully messy and his smile is making it hard for you to breathe. Has he always looked like this? You wonder, astonished as it hits you all at once. He’s gorgeous. Your eyes linger, taking in every little detail you’ve overlooked before. He waves his hand in front of your face to snap you out of your trance. 
“Stop looking at me like that,” he tisks. 
“Looking at you like what?”
“Like you’re trying to jump my bones,” he chuckles. Your face warms, and suddenly you realize how long you must have been staring. 
“Ha, right,” you joke sarcastically, or at least, trying to joke sarcastically. You walk past him and get into the passenger side of the van and try your best to compose yourself in the few seconds it takes for him to follow suit. 
“Okay, sweetheart,” he says, turning over the ignition, “where to?”
“Can we just drive around like we used to?” you ask- the circumstances of tonight making you feel so nostalgic. 
“Of course we can,” he hums, passing you the case of his cassettes- a familiar and welcomed sight for your tired eyes. 
You watch Eddie as he drives, and observe the way the muscles in his arms flex ever so subtly as he turns the wheel. You watch his ringed fingers tap across the top of the steering wheel and you can’t help it the way your mind wanders. You’re so wrapped up in the way his hair sways so effortlessly and the movement of his jaw as he sings, you don’t even notice that Steve was leaving the gym just in time to see you both drive away. 
After a little while of aimless driving, and hitting up the drive thru, Eddie ends up parking at Lover’s Lake when neither of you are ready to go home just yet. 
“Eddie?” You ask absentmindedly, finishing off the milkshake he got you. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot,” he replies, also finishing his, but with an obnoxiously loud suck of his straw- determined to get every last sip. 
“Why do you like me?” you ask, cringing almost immediately. You think you sound like a middle schooler or something- you’re so embarrassed. His eyes widen for a brief second, contemplating his answer. He tosses the empty cup into the back. 
“First off,” he criticizes teasingly, “I did not say I liked you- I’m in love with you. Get your facts straight, ma’am.” 
“My apologies,” you giggle, holding your hands up in defeat.
“I mean- I love everything about you; always have,” he starts. “You’re sweet and kind. I think you’re beautiful. I think you’re incredible, and sometimes I can’t figure out why you wanted to ever be friends with me in the first place.”
“Eddie?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Would you kiss me?” 
Eddie’s a goner when you’re looking at him with those doe eyes. More than anything he wants to lunge across and close the space between you. It’s everything he’s ever wanted. It takes every fiber of his being to hold himself back..
“I don’t know if I can kiss you without knowing if I could ever kiss you again,” He whispers, but it doesn’t stop him from leaning in towards you. His hand lifts to hold your cheek and suddenly he’s so close. Closer than the two of you have ever been. His lips are tantalizingly close to yours when his forehead touches yours. A huge bang on the side of the van scares you both away from each other. 
“Give her time, my ass, Munson! Get the fuck out here! Get your fucking hands off my girl!”
Taglist:
@sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs
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theereina · 3 days ago
Text
New Year, Same Bullshit
Pairing: Toxic Babydaddy!Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC
Wordcount: +3.8K
Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, baby girl, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), oral (male receiving), P in V, Toxic Dom!Terry *if you squint and turn your head*, cum play *sort of*, brattiness galore, facials *no spa*🤭
A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels.
A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by ME (theereina). Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.
Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥
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ding
Terry: I hope all is well. My mom told me she has TJ. Hope you enjoy yourself tonight.
Me: I hope I do, too.
Terry: I was thinking about something earlier.
Me: ???
Terry: New Year, new us?
I paused for a second in disbelief. I knew this man was not trying this bullshit tonight. I guess this year's motto was “new year, same bullshit”. I sat there for a second and stared at myself in my vanity's mirror.
I could feel the petty in me rising. I texted Terry back with nothing but ill intentions. “New year, new us”, huh?
Me: Nah. New year, and new dick. Cheers to 2025!🥂✨
I waited until I knew Terry saw the message and blocked his number. I knew I was pushing Terry's buttons but oh well.
2 hours later
“Lele, ain't that Terry?” asked one of the women who came out with me and my best friend.
“Aww, hell. Lele, it is him. He's coming this way, and he looks pissed!” my best friend, Tyler, said.
“I don't care. What he gonna do? Whoop me!” I laughed out loud, spinning to see Terry barreling through the crowd.
I stopped dancing when I saw his face. Maybe, I shouldn't have said that.
“Terry, wait? I didn't mean—,” I said as soon as he stood before me.
“Nah… You meant that shit. New dick, huh?” Terry said, eyeing me down.
As much as I was scared for my life, I was hoping that this night would end the way I wanted it to. Fuck! I needed this.
“You think that shit was funny? Ty, y'all here alone, or did she come with someone?” he asked, looking towards Tyler.
“Terry, I didn't come h—,” I started to speak.
Terry's eyes darted back to meet mine.
“Love, I wasn't talking to you. I asked Tyler. When I want you to speak, I'll let you know.”
“Oh, shit. He not playing with her ass,” said one of the women in the group.
“Yes, we came alone. No, she didn't come here with anyone. I promise,” Tyler said, looking at me.
“I can't believe you're doing this shit right now,” I mumbled under my breath.
“What did you say? I couldn't hear you,” Terry spat, glaring down at me.
“Nothing,” I whispered.
“Yeah, that's what the fuck I thought. Enjoy yourself, sweetheart. I'll be waiting for you when you get home,” he said, holding the back of my head and kissing my forehead.
“Huh? You don't live with me,” I uttered in confusion.
“I still have my key, and I pay the bills there. Don't I? Oh, okay then. Like I said, I'll see you when you get home,” he said, letting me go.
“Oh, and do me a favor, love. Don't drink too much. I need you alert and responsive tonight,” Terry said, walking away.
As I watched Terry leave, I felt my heart racing. There was no calming down from this.
“Fuck me!” I yelled quietly as soon as Terry was out of sight.
“Girl, what the fuck did you do this time?” Tyler asked me, handing me a drink.
I looked at the fruity concoction like it was poison. I knew this sugary ass shit wasn't going to do anything to call my nerves. I shrugged my shoulders and swallowed the drink in two full gulps.
“Damn! That man finna tear yo' ass up. Ain't he?” one of the women asked while laughing.
“You don't even know the half. Tyler, can you keep yo’ godson tomorrow? I got a funny feeling I'm not gonna be straight after tonight,” I asked Tyler, searching her eyes for sympathy.
“Yeah, I got my baby. Now, you just tell me what the fuck you did,” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, Ty. I think I fucked up this time,” I said, shaking my head. I pulled her over to one of the couches in the section, hoping that I could talk to her privately.
As I proceeded to tell Tyler what happened, I could see her face shift from concern to amusement.
“Why do you look like you wanna laugh?” I asked when I finished.
“Uh, sis… How did he know where you were?” Tyler asked, looking at me with concern.
“I don't… I don't know. How the fuck did he know I was here?” I asked, questioning myself more than Tyler.
4 nerve-racking hours later
I had literally spent all night trying to come up with a reason not to come home. I knew that whatever was on the other side of that door was going to be— something memorable.
I made sure to stop drinking hours ago. His “alert and responsive” remark was a warning that only WE understood. My insides were screaming because I knew Terry had a way of breaking me down and putting me back together again in the most— sensual and pleasurable way. Yes, there may be pain involved, but I couldn't care less.
I was well aware of what came with provoking Terry. At this point, it was a game for me, and my prize was always the best dick a girl could ever ask for. That was definitely the one thing I missed about having Terry living at home— the in-house, on-demand dick. Always hard, and always ready.
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It was a little after 4 in the morning. I was pushing my luck coming in this late, but I might as well fully enjoy what may be my last night out for a while. I was either about to get fucked up, be fucked, or both.
After realizing that Terry's truck was nowhere to be found, I scanned the streets to see if he parked there instead. Nothing.
I reluctantly began walking to the door. How was this possible? Even the walk up to my front door was causing me anxiety. Every goddamn step felt like I was approaching the gates of hell. Was I really letting this man make me feel like a child coming home when they know they're getting an ass whooping? Yes.
I slowed my steps and began putting my hair in a ponytail. If it's one thing I knew, this ponytail may save my life. Then again, it may do the opposite. Aww, fuck!
I tossed my heels and purse into one hand while adjusting my keys with the other. Placing the key into the keyhole, I quietly unlocked the door. I paused before opening the door, praying that Terry wasn't standing on the other side.
Sliding inside as quickly as I could, I tiptoed inside the house and locked the door. From what I could see, he wasn't in the living room or the kitchen. I took a deep breath and relaxed my shoulders. I stood quietly in an attempt to possibly hear if he was somewhere in the house. I flattened my back against the door since I was still unsure of my surroundings.
From somewhere to the right of me, I heard something dart towards me. I turned around in a panic. Right as I was about to make a run for it, I saw that the culprit had a tail. I WAS ABOUT TO RUN FROM MY DAMN CAT!!!
I took a deep breath and leaned down to pick up the cat. But… As soon as my knees hit the floor, I felt a hand on the back of my head. I screamed out in shock, startling the cat.
“Oh, nah. Shit that shit up! I told you I would be waiting for you. Didn't I?” Terry growled, pulling me by my ponytail.
Like I said. The ponytail was a gift and a curse.
“Just…” I yelled, grabbing his hands in my hair.
“Touch me again. I dare you. Imma do more than tie yo’ ass up!” Terry said, holding my face to look up at him.
“Terry, I'm sorry. I was just jo—!” I started, letting my hands fall beside me.
“That was supposed to be a joke. Ha! We gone see what's funny in a minute.” Terry said, letting go of my hair.
As much as my brain was telling me to run, my pussy was begging me to stay even more.
Terry's hand wrapped around my forearm. “Stand up!” he barked.
“Please, I said I’m—,” I said, standing to my feet.
“If I have to tell you to shut up again…” Terry said, pulling me to face him.
I used the back of my hand to wipe the tears that were now falling.
“I hope you don't think those tears are stopping shit. Ain't no sense in crying. You did this to yourself, Alicia. I was trying to be nice to you, but you just don't know when to leave me the fuck alone,” Terry said, stepping closer to me.
I gulped as he glared at me, blinking slowly. Every breath he released was hot and heavy— weighed down in anger. It's as if he was battling to control himself.
“You thought that shit was so cute. Didn't you? I bet you and your little friends had a good laugh at that, huh?” Terry said, leaning down and resting his forehead on mine.
“You can speak, now. Choose your words wisely,” he said. He straightened his posture and stood to his full height, holding his hands in front of him.
“I'm sorry. I didn't tell anyone but Tyler. I swear,” I spat out as quickly as I could.
Terry paused to look at me. His eyes darkened in lust and anger. I let my gaze drop to the floor.
“Nah, you know better. Eyes on me at all times, right?” Terry demanded.
“Yes,” I said, trailing my eyes up Terry's body. I let my gaze linger on the bulge that had grown in his jeans.
“Unh unh. You gone see that in a minute. Look at me, Alicia!” Terry said, forcing me to look at him.
I rubbed my forearm nervously. I waited for Terry to say something else. Instead, he turned on his heels and sat on the couch.
Leaning back on the couch, he placed his arm over the back. “Better yet. Come here and bring your phone with you,” he said, motioning for me to approach him.
I slowly picked up my phone from the floor and walked up to him. I stood between his legs. He dropped his gaze to the floor, letting me know to kneel. I kneeled in front of him while never breaking eye contact.
“Good girl. Thank you for finally listening. Give me your phone.”
Handing him my phone, my mind immediately started to race. I knew if this man went through that phone. My ass was grass!
“Terry, wait!” I yelled, stopping him.
“Oh, you must be hiding something. You are crazy as hell if you think I can't go through a phone that I pay for every month. However, that's the least of my concerns right now,” he scoffed, tossing the phone beside him on the couch.
“I just… I… I know that… if…,” I stuttered.
“Don't even worry about it, love. Because after tonight, it won't matter what nigga is in that phone. You'll know who you belong to. I can promise you that.”
Terry leaned forward, grabbing the side of my face firmly. I gasped in anticipation.
“I don't understand why you choose to play with me, baby girl. Here I am asking for my family back, and your ass wants to play these childish ass games.”
“Terry, baby. I—,” I said before he placed his hand around the front of my throat. I instantly shut my mouth.
“Look at that! How sweet. I didn't even have to do it, and you knew.” Terry said, biting his bottom lip. He moaned as he watched me. He was more than thrilled with my natural obedience.
Moving his hand to cup my chin, he let his thumb trace the silhouette of my bottom lip.
“Mmm… Daddy misses these lips. The way they look, the way they feel— everything!”
Terry's hand let go of my chin as he sank back into the couch. I watched fervently as he undid his belt. Making quick work of his pants, he freed himself from the confinement of his boxers.
I eyed his dick, waiting for his permission to even touch it.
“I told you you'd get to see it. Unfortunately, touching it ain't an option. At least not right now, especially with that foul mouth of yours.”
My face dropped in disbelief as I began to pout.
“What you will get to do is watch me. Watch me while I… uh… make you wish it was you handling this for me.” Terry laughed while lifting my head back up to watch him.
So, it begins. This is the part where he breaks me.
Terry wrapped his hand firmly around the base of his dick. “All you had to do was behave, but you just can't. I bet you'll be on your best fuckin’ behavior after tonight.”
Terry's hand stroked the length of his shaft. His contentment was already evident as small droplets of precum began to leak from his tip.
I rested my hands on my thighs, pressing my fingertips into the cushion of my thighs. I was fighting the urge to lick what I felt was mine; however, I knew that wouldn't end the way I wanted. Licking my tongue out, I let it slide across the flesh of my bottom lip.
Terry grunted in response. My eyes darted from his dick to his face. His eyes were low and wanton. He was just as needy as I was. Our gazes locked in fervor, passing a mutual message that intensified the salacious hunger between us.
Terry's hand sped up and tightened around his head. His grunts grew deeper and more primal. He was feigning to cum.
I tilted my head and lowered my gaze, pleading with my eyes. Sitting here with my hands in my lap wasn't enough for me. I whined while wiggling my hips, trying to feel something to help the ache between my legs.
“Fuck! You got 3 minutes to make me cum or else!” Terry said, leaning up and grabbing the back of my head.
He didn't even have to finish his movement. My mouth was on his dick before he could even grab me. I was horny, I was needy, and most importantly, I was hungry.
I took all of Terry in on a single inhale not giving a fuck about my throat. I needed this. I let saliva fall from my mouth and down the sides of his shaft. Pulling back, I hollowed out my cheeks and created a vacuum around the head of Terry's dick.
“Ahhh, fuck. You… you always know… ugh.. exactly what to do, baby girl. That's right. This dick is yours, mama. Ahhh, shit. Keep going, baby,” Terry said, stroking the side of my face.
I moaned around his dick. Swallowing his full length again with pride, I smiled around him. Opening my mouth slowly, I sunk down further until my nose hit the patch of hair he grew there. Relaxing every muscle in my throat I let him sit in the back of my throat while I hummed and moaned in pleasure. This… this was the ache I was seeking. This was what I wanted to feel— the burn and stretch of this very moment.
I pulled off of Terry with a pop, watching as a thin string of saliva and cum fell from my lips. Grabbing him mid-shaft, I began to jerk his dick. Fully consumed by my own pleasure, I failed to immediately take notice of Terry's silence.
I looked up to see Terry's eyes closed as he released a slew of low, rough moans. I instantly put my mouth back on him, focusing solely on his head. Using my tongue to massage his tip, I was hoping to push Terry over the edge.
Watching him closely, I marveled at the sight before me. His head had rolled back on his shoulders, and his bottom lip was tucked in between his teeth. As I felt Terry's dick begin to pulse, I took him into the back of my throat again. I wanted every drop of him, and I was going to make sure I got it.
Letting him paint the back of my throat was the only thing on my mind. I started sucking Terry like my life depended on it. His hand gripped the back of my head, but even that didn't stop me. I rested my hands on Terry's legs for support as I put my all into it.
As soon as I felt like the first drops of cum were about to make an appearance, Terry grunted and pulled me back. His dick fell from my mouth and into his own hands. Leaning my head back, Terry stroked himself twice before erupting— all over my face.
I closed my eyes, feeling the warm sticky substance coat my eyelashes along with my forehead, nose, and lips. I exhaled as I thanked God that I closed my eyes in time.
“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue!” Terry barked as I felt him moving around.
I opened my mouth and felt him push his dick inside again. Resting the full weight of his dick on my tongue, he told me to keep my mouth open.
“Smile!” he said as I heard a camera shutter.
Without a second thought, my eyes shot open.
“For memories. Adding it to the stash.”
Of course! That's what the fuck he wanted the phone for. I pulled back, letting his dick fall out. “I told you that you're mine. Didn't I?” he said, leaning up.
“Oh, don't think we're done either. Stand up!” he nodded.
I rose to my feet, wobbling. As I stood before Terry, I went to wipe my face. His hand reached out to grab my hand.
“Nah, baby girl. You gone wear that shit with pride. I plan on marking my territory in more ways than one. There will be no creampies tonight,” he warns, standing from the couch.
“But Terry I—,” I said.
His arms wrapped around my waist as he lifted me. Wrapping my legs around him, he turned to walk towards the hallway. My body practically melted into him as I clung to his back. I began to whine and moan while kissing his neck.
“Daddy missed this pussy— MY pussy,” Terry moaned as his hands pushed the strapless dress I wore up past my stomach. The thin fabric began bunching up.
“Ahhh, mmmm. Fuck!” I moaned, placing my hands around his neck.
As we approached the bedroom door, Terry didn't even reach to open it. Instead, he opted for kicking it open.
“Don't worry. I'll fix it!” he grinned.
Walking to the foot of the bed, he laid me directly in the middle. He stepped back and completely undressed himself. God Lord, I missed this body.
I leaned up and began kissing and touching his abdomen. Moving my hands out of the way, Terry's hands went to the neckline of the dress as he leaned over me. In one swift move, he tore the top of the dress in half, continuing to tear the fabric from my body until nothing was left.
While I was preoccupied with my own thoughts, he pushed me down onto the bed. Climbing onto the bed and settling between my thighs, he wrapped my legs around his waist.
Looking at me with the most sinful smirk, he entered me in one thrust. I gasped out in both pain and pleasure. We hadn't had sex in over four months. The feeling of him stretching my pussy out sent my eyes rolling into the back of my head.
“You gone feel me tonight, baby. All of me,” he said, leaning down to kiss my neck.
Pulling every inch of his dick out to the tip, he inserted himself again. He was clearly on a mission.
Thrust after thrust…
“So, you gone give my pussy away? Huh? Answer me when I'm talkin' to you!” he said, thrusting into me harder.
“No!” I yelled as my back arched off the bed.
Using nothing but his body weight, Terry flattened me out again. “No, ma'am.” He said, pulling out to thrust back in again. “The fuck you moving for? You gone take this dick. It's yours, ain't?” he asked, kissing my chin.
“Yes, this… this is… ahhh, fuckkk… This is my dick!” I screamed out as he pounded into me. Every thrust knocked the syllables from my lips.
“That's right. This your dick, baby. All of it! Every fuckin' inch, mama! Now, what you gone do with it, huh?” he growled in my ear, taunting me.
“I'm… gonna… fuckin'… take… it!” I whimpered. His thrusts began to pick up speed.
“Good girl, and you gone let me cum wherever I want to, right?” Terry coaxed, hitting my g-spot over and over again.
“Yes!” I yelled, clawing at Terry's back.
I was so close to cumming, and this shit felt so damn good. Hell, I'd even let him cum on my face again.
“I knew my baby would. Who pussy this is, mama?” he asked, smirking.
“Yours! For… ever! Terry, please! Can… ohhhh… can I cum?” I begged as I felt my climax quickly approaching.
“You better wet this dick up, too. Come on, baby.” Terry uttered softly, talking me through it. “Oouu… look at my baby,” he said, fucking me through my orgasm.
“Terry!” I moaned out, digging into his forearms.
“Look at that shit! Wet as fuck!” he said, watching himself slip in and out.
“Yes! Shit! Ohhh, fuck!” I gasped as he slowed his strokes.
“Yeah! Just like that. You ready? Tell Daddy that you're ready,” he groaned clearly at his peak.
“Please, Daddy! Cum for me!” I yelled.
Terry pulled out, aiming straight for my pussy and stomach. I watched intently as ropes of cum landed on my lower abdomen and the mound of my pussy. Using his dick, Terry began to mix the remainder of his cum into my own. He beamed as he created a disgusting and sloppy mess between my legs.
“I wish you could see it, baby. It's so pretty,” he said, looking up. His eyes roamed over the entirety of my body, lingering on the areas covered in his cum. “You look so pretty, mama,” Terry praised.
“I know I do, and it's all because of you,” I said, pulling Terry in for a kiss.
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Taglist: @episodes-ff @babybratzmaraj @persethegawd @pocketsizedpanther @writingsbytee @kimuzostar @confessionsofadramaqueenn @luvrsluxe @blackmoonchilee @meannaim @nayaesworld @msdmc1 @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @mymindisneverhere @brattyfics @avoidthings @honeytoffee @peachbuttetfly @melaninadorned @theglamclosetsl @simplyzeeka @dxddykenn @charismablu @blackerthings @slutsareteacherstoo @vivaalenaa @becauseimswagman1 @keehendrixx @teeresaresa @beenathembo @inthekeyofshe @notapradagurl7 @blowmymbackout
This taglist is random and sort of thrown together. Sorry.😔
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theeroins · 3 days ago
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If I say that I'm not used to people misinterpreting my favorite characters, I'd be lying. But the way they get so many things wrong about Inho's character is kinda pissing me off because you KNOW that most of them do it to cancel out the possibility of InHun being *something* more than what's shown so far. You don't ship them, that's fair, frankly I don't care. Everyone's entitled to their own opinion UNTIL your opinion is wrong.
Let's talk about a couple of things I've seen being talked about on tiktok (🙄)
“Inho joined the games because ilnam said that it'd basically be more fun to play than to watch so he followed his example." loud incorrect buzzer ! Inho has joined the games before, and not only that, he's also a previous winner, so therefore he's very much aware of what it's like to be a part of it, he's experienced them first hand, just like he's experienced the atrocities of it. they've changed him for the worst and possibly caused him a huge trauma —they're the reason he's lost faith in humanity after all— so, why would he crave to relive it just for the thrill of it? i, personally doubt he even enjoys watching the game.
“Inho didn't look at Gihun with love, he likes to watch him suffer” Short answer is no. He doesn't like to watch him suffer, neither he looked at him with love, not the pure kind of love at least. Two things can be true at once. Inho spent half the season staring at Gihun because everything about the man intrigued him; His determination, his stubbornness, his kindness, his hope, his heart that's full of love despite the pain he suffered, even the pain in his eyes every time someone got eliminated in front of him as if it was the first time it had happened, as if the cruelty of it all surprised him every damn time. How can someone, who's been through the same things Inho has been through, be the polar opposite of him?
now, the reason(s) that I think Inho actually joined the games for..
(yes I am an Inhun shipper, does that make my opinion a little biased? maybe. do i still believe I'm right? absofuckinglutely.)
Let me clarify this: Inho is NOT a good man, no matter the redemption arc he might get in s3, he'll continue to be a terrible person because nothing will ever erase the blood he's spilled and the evil men he's worked for. BUT at the same time, he's not ALL bad, not like the VIPS and ilnam. See, Inhun are the average "yin-yang" trope in fictional romance, (which I eat up every time and I find it very interesting when it's done the right way, don't get me wrong) Inho is bad but there's some goodness somewhere deep inside him. And the only person who's brought it to the surface is Gihun. Sure, he does think Gihun is naive, but he's also the only person who's actually challenged him, who's "forced" him to get his stupid head out of the dirt and look around him, even for a short while and Inho definitely liked what he saw. Honestly, it wasn't even that hard for Gihun to do so because the goodness in Inho wanted and waited for someone to pull him out of the dirt, he wished for someone, something to give him hope for humanity or.. anything. Anything that'll help him escape from his misery.
You can definitely argue that he joined the games to befriend Gihun, to gain his trust and stop his plans when the time comes, which is half true. But keep in mind that he needed to justify his choice to join the games. He's not a VIP nor the mastermind to simply get to do that without consequences. He's the frontman, the one who controls and manages everything. He's needed for the games to work and go by smoothly and successfully without unnecessary losses and problems. Gihun would only cause problems, Inho knew that very well and yet he chose to put him in it once again. He recklessly made that choice, risking pretty much everything because of his inner conflict. A part of him wanted Gihun to prove himself to him, that there's indeed good that'll save the world and the rest of him wanted to prove to Gihun that everything he so strongly believes in is merely a fantasy.
Joining the games and befriending Gihun was the only way for Inho to see the real him, without the heroic mask he puts on every time he faces the frontman. I think he believed that someone as extraordinary as Gihun will either break in front of him and he will end up disappointed by the human kind once again, or Gihun will change everything about the way he thinks for the better. But the problem is that Inho hopes for both of those things at the same time.
And that was Inho's arc in season 2. His inner conflict and how it will affect him, the game and Gihun later on.
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recursive-muse · 2 days ago
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Well I suppose to start off, obviously trans misogyny "isn't real" it's not made of matter, it exists in a very loose sense as a general pattern of discriminatory and cruel behavior directed mostly, but not exclusively at trans women. But I suppose you'd want me to ask you how can something that isn't even made of matter have definitive qualities? It can't be set in stone or 'definitive' any more than Christmas or the qualities of a unicorn can be.
So while you can be correct or incorrect about the particular details of an instance of discrimination experienced by a particular person (be they trans or otherwise). There are no concrete rules as to how anyone is discriminated against, just general guidelines that people learn from each other by watching their behavior.
So I suppose it's true that if you insist on narrowly defining trans misogyny as a form of discrimination that is both a) uniquely experienced by trans women, and b) defined by trans women as a collective. Then it's true that no such thing exists as the particulars of how and why discrimination is doled out are decided by the discriminator in the instance of discrimination, and instances of mistaken identity are fairly common (i.e. a trans man or cis woman could be mistaken for a trans woman, or vice versa).
What's more, It's not at all clear how you intend for point b of your definition of trans misogyny to work. Do all trans women need to attend a meeting to agree on the definition, do they put it to a vote or is it by consensus, and if it is how much variance in the understanding of the definition is tolerable? How closely does someone have to identify with womanhood to count as part of this community and how many members need to be present for them to hold quorum?
This is all of course in jest, we both know there is no one definition of trans misogyny that all trans women agree to, there are some generalities but every definition has its detractors and there is no binding consensus. This too is another vague social construct that lacks definitive qualities.
As for your conjecture that I am either 'misusing' or 'misdefining' the word trans misogyny which you somewhat unhelpfully declined to define yourself. I don't see how that's possible when language itself is socially constructed. Now yes, there are prescriptive, academic, and dictionary definitions, all of which can be quite helpful in clarifying what we mean when we use certain words. But as I'm sure you've noticed with slang people can say whatever they like and meen whatever they like by it and as long as they're understood by some subset of the population they've successfully used language. Now I know it's tempting to say that slang isn't 'official', but as you may have guessed the official quality of anything is also socially constructed (see aren't social constructs fun, we're 'surrounded' by them all the time and yet we hardly ever get around to recognizing them as such). As again I'm sure you've noticed definitions can vary from one dictionary to the next and academics themselves can quarrel over the precise details of any given definition, while still agreeing on the broader points. So there are no 'definitive' definitions just ones that are agreed upon by groups of experts, but even then who gets to be an expert, how much schooling do they need, if groups disagree how should they resolve their differences? These questions have plenty of practical answers, but no correct ones.
You also seem to imply that you have some sort of information that I lack which would better clarify your point. Now I very much doubt that, but I suppose you can claim it to be true, I don't care. Then you imply that my points are for some reason 'despicable' I'm guessing you want me to interpret this as some sort of unsubstantiated moral claim, tho I don't understand what you mean by it. Honestly, I see it as an emotional reaction to my position different from your own, or perhaps you simply dislike my phrasing. Either way, my positions are correct and I don't care why you dislike them, they are factual after all.
To round this out I'll clarify two more points for you. I'm gender fluid, and I have a degree in sociology. So there, I hope this hasn't ruined your day or anything. Personally I don't really think that matters, but there it is.
“everyone talking about transmisogyny is a binary trans woman, as evidenced by the fact that I assume everyone talking about transmisogyny is a binary trans woman”
sigh
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vampzity · 3 days ago
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[ 2:41 am ]
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Warm kisses were pressed against your back, all while he pulled you closer to him. His lips were soft, welcoming— almost as if you were being hugged by them. Every now and then he’d stop, resting his head against your back for some time before repeating the same cycle.
You subconsciously groaned out of your sleep, rubbing your eyes as you turned to face him. Felix smiled as you met his eyes. Even if it was dark you could feel his eyes searching your face, admiring every inch of it. His hand came to cup your cheek, caressing it slowly with his thumb as he kissed your forehead.
Any chance he got to express his love, he would do so in the form of kisses. They made you weak, made your knees buckle at how softly he placed them. Every kiss having a different feeling than the last.
“Did I wake you angel?”
His deep whisper rang through your ears, making your heart pound out of nervousness. Felix felt your face heat up in his palm, making him cheese from ear to ear. He swore he could feel his pupils grow at seeing you. No amount of words, no number big enough could explain his adoration for you.
You shook your head, placing your hand ontop of his own.
“What are you doing up?” You glanced over to the clock on the wall reading 2:41 am. “It’s almost 3 am, Lixie.. bad dream?”
Felix chuckled, his eyes peeking at your cleavage for a second. He wrapped his arm around your back, pulling you closer to him and placing his head in the crook of your neck. He hummed in disagreement, kissing your neck. You moaned quietly as he nibbled at your skin, pushing his head away.
“Felix my parents are staying over we can’t do this..”
He raised his eyebrow, holding your chin up as he gave you more kisses. He was being cocky and he knew that. He didn’t care if your parents were sleeping next door, he couldn’t bare to be without your touch for the next week.
“I’m sure you can be quiet for me, yeah?”
He slipped his hand under your shirt, kneading at your breasts as he kissed your neck sensually. You hummed to a near whisper, your hands brushing through his blonde locks. You resented Felix for constantly getting his way with you, and only because of how easy it was to swoon you. You can’t resist his touch— no matter where it came from, as he was always so delicate. Caring for you as if you were a fragile piece of work.
He sucked the skin, nipping at it as he left small red marks. It was the worst place he could mark you, but at that moment you didn’t care. You were too drunk off his kisses to care. Felix slipped his fingers into your underwear, moving them aside a bit as his they glided through your folds. You were soaking, the sound of your cunt loud enough for the two of you to hear.
He pushed his finger inside of you, watching as your back arched in response. His finger curved, slowly pumping in and out of you.
“You like that baby? C’mon, use your words.”
You whimpered quietly, pulling him in for a kiss. Felix fastened his pace while inside you, feeling your soft moans roll onto his tongue. His thumb rolled against your clit as he sucked your lower lip softly. You were in heaven and he happily watched as he got you there. A small smile crept on his face as you threw your head back in pleasure. You knew he’d give anything to see you in such a vulnerable, yet beautiful state all the time and you were happy to let him have that.
Felix pulled his fingers out of you, sucking them as you watched. He quickly slipped under the covers and you felt his breath just inches away from your cunt. He slipped off your underwear, spreading your legs slowly while he placed small kisses against your clit.
“Stay as quiet as you can for me, yeah?”
He sucked on your inner thigh, only enough to leave small red marks against it. He wrapped his lips around your swollen clit, sucking it tenderly as his thumb pocked at your hole. You covered your mouth, whimpering as quietly as you could. You were so sensitive— so eager to cum right there in his mouth, but you knew you had to hold out for him.
His tongue swirled around your bud, soon lapping at the juices spilling from you. His head followed the motion of his tongue, the pace switching from slow to fast as a way to tease you. You ran your fingers through his locks, grinding your hips against his tongue as you felt your stomach churn.
“Gonna cum..” you could barely make out a sentence, hesitant to be to loud.
Felix held his tongue out, letting you grind your pussy against it. He adored how needy you were, taking any chance he could get to let you take control.
“Cum for me baby. Let me taste how sweet you are.”
His deep voice vibrated against you, making your legs shake involuntarily. He massaged your thighs in an attempt to ease your nerves, laying gentle kisses against them. Once you relaxed, he pushed his fingers into your aching cunt, humming at the squelching sounds.
“Fuck, so wet. Just wanna give you a baby.”
You tugged his hair softly, pulling his lips to your clit. Felix sucked on you, still fingering you with a steady motion. It was coming, and you felt it. You felt your body heat up, your heart pound as the pleasure grew to be too much for you to handle. Your hips grinded against his face, your nose brushing slightly against his nose.
In just seconds you came undone, almost suffocating him with your thighs as you cried out in pleasure. You quickly covered your mouth, out of breath as Felix came out from underneath the covers. His hair was messy, your juices coating his mouth and jaw.
“Ah don’t laugh at me..”
He wiped his mouth, soon kissing you sensually as he laid back next to you. Felix pulled your body close to his, your back against his chest once again. He placed small kisses against your shoulders, stopping for a few minutes, then repeating the same cycle once more.
Should it bother you? Not when it was him. It was simply his gesture of love toward you and it was something you adored most about him.
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a/n: something. about. felix. like he’s just been bias wrecking me lately it’s bad.
taglist: @dvrktvnnel @h4untedgrl @scarfac3 @jjongibears @sundaybossanova
@kittykat-25 @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @woojirang @vnessalau
@dollywoo @tiredlittlevirgo @roomsofangel @joonezra @honeyhwaaa
@mingtinysworld @rvereri
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anastasia12 · 3 days ago
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lower your inhibitions
lower your inhibitions ; simon “ghost” riley.
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You love Simon, you really do.
How could you not? How could you not fall for him? He’s the one who rescued you from a fate worse than death, the one who washes your body for you even though the both of you know that you’re fully capable of showering alone (he loves you so much, he’s constantly craving to touch you in any way he can), the one who took apart one of his honorary medals for his services and melted it down so it could be manipulated and turned into the band on your engagement ring.
(Did you know that the medal he used is the one he got from the mission where you two first met, the fateful mission where he both saved and changed your whole entire life?)
And you know that Simon would do absolutely anything for you. He whispers it to you in the dead of night, holding you so close to his chest like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. He lets you be the one who removes his mask, and if he can do something so intimately vulnerable, then you suppose you can do this for him.
This is giving into one of his latest fantasies, one that he’s been hinting at for quite some time now.
You know that his line of work is difficult at best and life-threatening all the time. You know that he bears a heavy burden on his shoulders — it’s not just his weaponry and equipment that weighs him down, but the fact that so many lives are resting in his hands. You do your best to relieve him of any stress when he gets home: a warm meal waiting for him, fresh clothes set out for him to change into, long nights where you spend all your time and energy determined to give him the reward he deserves for being a hero.
He mentions it in passing, usually when you’re so far gone in the throes of pleasure that you don’t even consciously acknowledge his little comments. Sneaky bastard; he’s been making sure it stays ingrained in your subconscious, though.
Baby, I could spend forever here. You’re certain that’s what he was groaning out the last time you had spread your legs for him and allowed him to eagerly lap at your pussy. You’re not entirely too sure, though — the only thing you can clearly remember through the foggy haze of intense passion was the feeling of him pleasuring you with just his mouth and bringing you to climax on his tongue at least twice that night.
You can only imagine what he must have planned for you tonight.
You’re sure that Simon has an insane amount of stamina as a result of his work. The only thing keeping you, his little soon-to-be housewife, still alive from all of these little entanglements is the fact that you love him enough to do anything he asks of you. So when he tells you that the only thing that’ll help him take his mind off of his latest assignment is to have you sitting on his face, you oblige.
According to him, this is a foolproof plan because only an idiot would be thinking about something else when he’s got the prettiest pussy in the world on top of him.
You could feel your face heating up at his vulgar compliment, but you’re not entirely innocent. The heat was building up towards the lower half of your body after that comment, too.
And now you find yourself nervously straddling your fiance, looking into his eyes.
“You know where you need to be, pretty girl,” His voice is already thick with arousal, and you recognize that hungry glint in his eyes. You pray to anyone out there who’s listening to pretty please give you the strength to survive tonight.
“B-but Simon—” You’re whispering, even though this house is the only residence in the area. (Thank God for that; if the two of you had neighbors, they surely would have filed a noise complaint.)
“Yes, my love?” You can recognize the teasing tone in his voice, and you can hear the smirk he must be wearing on his face.
“How am I supposed to… You know, get on your face and let you do what you want when your mask is still on?”
His infamous balaclava with the skull design etched onto the fabric seems to taunt you. It doesn’t scare you, especially since you’re well aware of who the man behind the mask truly is, but you can’t quite figure out why he hasn’t taken it off yet.
“Oh. I didn’t tell you yet?” He has to be smiling underneath the mask because your reaction to his next words is enough to have him chuckling.
“I’m not eating you out ‘til you’re so wet for me that I can feel you dripping through the mask.”
You immediately freeze up, wondering if he truly means what he just said.
(It’s Simon; of course, he meant every word of it.)
“Sweetheart, I thought you were going to be a good girl for me tonight.” The disapproval he douses his words with isn’t real — you know he’s just trying to tease you because it’s what he loves to do. Still, you find yourself nodding your head and slowly but surely making your way up his resting body before you find yourself hovering uncertainly above his face.
You let out an adorable little yelp of surprise as he suddenly grips the back of your thighs and forces you down on his mask-covered face. For a man his size, the strength isn’t surprising, but it’s his stealth and dexterity that always catches you off guard.
“Can’t wait to taste you.” His voice sounds muffled now due to the pressure being applied to his mouth, and you can feel the slight movements of his mouth despite the thick fabric of his balaclava acting as a barrier between you and him. His eyes are already deepening with desire, and you swallow hard, knowing that it’ll please him if you truly give it your all. You’ve known him for what feels like forever, and you’re engaged to the man. There’s no more room for shyness to take root in this relationship.
It’s time for you to lower your inhibitions.
Your first movements are a bit uncertain, but his groan of appreciation acts as reassurance. You move back and forth slowly, carefully grinding against the mask, and occasionally, your clit will brush against the covered tip of his nose, only adding to your pleasure and allowing you to give into your depravity without worry.
“Just like that, love. You’re doing so well for me.” You can barely make out the words he’s saying, but you give him a shaky smile as you continue to grind against him, your hands finding purchase on the pillow he’s resting his head on. You grip it, trying to hold yourself steady as you continue to buck against him, your arousal practically leaking out of you, a constant stream of juices that is soaking through the fabric, leaving a distinct wet stain on the front of it.
Simon grins at a mission successfully accomplished. Not only can he feel your arousal through the mask, but you’re so soaked for him that he’s certain he can taste you already, too.
One strong hand grips your waist, pausing your jerky movements, and you look down, blinking and trying to ground yourself into reality. You watch as he uses his other hand to tear off the balaclava, tossing it somewhere on the floor of your shared bedroom.
His chin and lips are already shining just the slightest — just how wet for him are you? He gives you a cheeky grin, and you’re still so close to him that when he speaks, his lips brush against your slick folds.
“Don’t stop now, darling. You promised you’d sit on my face.”
He’s so close to helping you get rid of the ache in between your legs, and you find yourself lowering yourself fully, your soft thighs encasing his head, and your soaking cunt landing right on his mouth. You’re already leaking all the way down to his chin, and his groans of pleasure only serve to make you even wetter.
He can’t speak right now; not when he’s too occupied with the meal you’ve so generously decided to grace him with. The room is filled with the obscene sounds of him lapping up everything you’re spilling out.
His tongue slides through your entrance with ease, and you moan in ecstasy, throwing your head back as you start to instinctually buck against his face, practically riding his tongue.
He’s sucking up your arousal, eager to please you but also insanely happy at the position he’s finally in. This is exactly what he needed: pure, unadulterated access to your pussy. Your thighs are surrounding him, and he uses both hands to squeeze harshly at your ass. The slight pain only makes you squeal and jerk up just the slightest, but he growls before forcing you back down on his face, right where you belong.
The ministrations of his tongue are entirely too much. The noises the two of you are making sounds as if the two of you are filming a porno, and you know you can’t last much longer.
Using both of your hands, your fingers curl into the thick locks of his hair, tugging just enough to him groan against your pussy, and you mewl out his name as you cum all over his face.
Your body feels like jelly; this isn’t the first time that Simon has fucked you boneless before, but this orgasm was intense. You think you can still feel some aftershocks of it, and you moan out weakly as you struggle to remain in your seated position on his face.
He’s still lapping everything up, his tongue still exploring every centimeter of yourself you have to offer him. After that climax, your poor pussy is feeling too sensitive, and every time he slightly moves his head, his nose continues to bump against your clit. You’re ultra-aware of every movement of his, extra susceptible to every flick of his tongue and the pleasure is only painfully heightened. You’re too weak to fight him off and while giving in will surely leave you unable to leave the bed all day tomorrow, you can’t find it in yourself to ask him to stop.
“Si-mon.” You whine out his name, but it comes out garbled and broken. Your mind doesn’t know how to react to the constant pleasure he’s inflicting on you and your sensitive little cunt. Your body, though, is eager to receive more of what he has to offer. It’s evident in the way your hole starts to clench around nothing every time he teasingly withdraws his tongue to force you to beg him for more. Even though you feel like you’re unable to move, you still find enough strength left in you to grind against him, rubbing your pussy and spreading your slick all over his face before you cum once again, this one leaving you all the more disorientated.
His visage is a sight to behold: cheeks are flushed red, eyes wild and dark with desire, the lower half of his face stained with your cum and arousal. You should be embarrassed at what a mess you’ve made of your fiance, but he only licks his lips. His eyes almost roll back as he realizes the taste of you will forever be on his tastebuds.
“Taste so good, love.” He gasps out. His hair is messy from the way you’ve shamelessly tugged at his locks. “I need more. You gonna give it to me?”
You’re nodding, but he doesn’t even wait for your affirmation before forcing you down onto his mouth once again.
He wasn’t lying when he made the claim that he could live in between your legs forever. After tonight, you know you’re never going to deny him the chance to prove it, though.
comment if you want your @ in heree
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cheapshrimpysheep · 2 days ago
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Hiii!! is it okay if I request a comfort(?) scenario/headcanons with Vil, Idia, Malleus and Lilia where a female protagonist feels self-conscious about having stretch marks and/or cellulite, thanks (Sorry if it's not spelled well, English is not my native language)
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COMMENTS: So... even though I myself am a woman, I genuinely never saw stretch marks or cellulite as something bad or ugly, and I still don't. So maybe making the characters share the same vision as me would be accurate? The only exception to complete indifference is Vil, but not in the way you might be thinking.
Btw, I didn't see any point in writing this in a context other than an already advanced relationship given the topic. Fortunately, the 4 characters are 18 years or older so it doesn't end up being... you know, too weird.
I explain at the end why I couldn't write anything for Malleus or Lilia. But despite that, I hope you and all like what I managed to write. ❤️
CHARACTERS: Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud
TAGS: Fluff; Fem!Reader; Comfort; In a Relationship; Suggestive(?)
WORD COUNT: An average of 580 words per character
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CONTEXT: I don't think it would make sense for two people to have this kind of intimate conversation outside of a romantic or even sexual relationship. So in that situation, he and you would be in a relationship.
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This was an insecurity of yours from the beginning. After all, your boyfriend was none other than Vil Schoenheit. It would be worrying enough if he were a normal model, but he's not only a super model but one of the biggest in all of Twisted Wonderland.
He had already noticed that since you started dating you seemed more worried and less confident about your appearance and that was when he said to you:
“I am the one who needs to be perfect, not you. If I wanted to date a model I could do it, but my standards in romantic relationships are others. Different from some of my colleagues in this field. I will always help you to further improve your image if you wish and feel comfortable with it. Please don't see this as me wanting you to change your appearance, but as an attempt to make you as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside.” He pauses for a second. “However, for some reason, there's something that bothers me about the possibility of making you start living the same lifestyle as me.”
But he would only get the answer to why that bothered him later.
“The truth is: you are my escape. I don't feel the pressure to be perfect with you because... you know I'm not and yet you look at me with more admiration than anyone else. You are my escape from the superficial and futile parts of my professional life. When you live in these types of environments, you start to lose track of what really matters and what really does you good. Thinking about you being swallowed up by this... and losing your genuine smile... because of me... I can't allow it! Please know that no opinion about your appearance matters other than your own. And it wasn't just that that made me fall in love.”
This may have made you feel more comfortable and confident about your appearance again, but as the relationship became more serious and you became more intimate, eventually your problem with stretch marks and cellulite began to affect your mood again.
At home, Vil had massage sessions from time to time not only to help him relax but also for other healthy effects it had on his body. He thought that now that he was dating you, maybe it would be interesting for him to buy massage products and for you to start having these sessions with each other.
“You deserve a massage probably even more than I do.” He tells you, referring to the hardships you go through with Grim and the others.
And that's when he realizes from your hesitation that something about your appearance has bothered you again. He asks you to tell him and that you can trust him. After all, if you couldn't, what kind of boyfriend would he be? And you end up talking about your stretch marks and cellulite.
“I see.” He says understandingly. “I've never had them myself, but I've met many women in the beauty industry who talk about it to each other. Not to mention the advertisements for products for it. Do you remember what I told you when we first started dating and you felt less confident about your appearance? I am the one who needs to be perfect, not you. Furthermore, from what I understand, these marks are usually found on areas around the stomach, hips, breasts, and thighs.” He looks at you seductively. “You don't really think I would have any kind of criticism if you gave me the honor of seeing these parts of your body, do you? Why don't you let me give you that massage? I'll show you what I truly find beautiful about you.”
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At first you didn't even think about it. It was only when the relationship started to get more serious and you started to sleep together from time to time that you started to worry.
Especially when Idia started having less of a problem walking around you shirtless. And giving hints about how he would like to see you wearing his shirts, without pants.
One day he says he wants to acknowledge the elephant in the room, but instead of asking why you hide your body so much, he asks if you still don't consider him worthy of seeing his girlfriend comfortably sexy.
“You never hid the fact that you like to see me shirtless.” He says while playing some game on the computer. “I also want to see you like that. Not necessarily shirtless, that's another level, but like, you know I don't like to embody the confident handsome guy who likes to walk around with little clothing on." His hair starts to turn hot pink.” But... I like how you look at me when I do. And what you say. Which I never understood ‘cause I don't even have good physics. But you do! You would be that character that every player simps for.” He sinks into his chair. “But I understand, getting that kind of look from me is disgusting...”
You may have your insecurities, but he has them too. And finally you feel the need and the comfort enough to reveal to him that that isn’t the problem, that you would also like him to find you hot as you find him and that the problem is your marks.
“What marks? Like scars? Don't tell me you have cool battle scars, like doesn't that make a person even sexier?”
You say you're not talking about scars, but stretch marks and cellulite.
“... Yah... sorry, I think I rolled a natural 1 in intelligence for this. What was that again?”
You say they are marks, irregularities and dimples in the skin and that he can search them on the internet. He does that.
“It says that these are natural things that don't do any harm. But they can impact self-image.” He researches a little more. “Wait! Are you trying to tell me that you find these strips and irregularities ugly enough to the point that you have to hide them? THIS?” He smiles mockingly “Oh no! How horrible! Your skin looks like... skin! What a tragedy!”
He will be very happy if you can laugh with him.
“As if I would even notice that. It says here that these marks are usually found on areas around the stomach, hips, breasts, and thighs. Do you really think that if I saw these parts of your body it would be little stripes and dimples that would catch my attention?” The pink in his hair becomes more intense. “I may be a shut-in but don't lump me in with those worms who define their standards based on adult videos. I can assure you that's not what you'll have to worry about if you take your clothes off in front of me.”
He finally looks at you with a seductive look and smiles confidently when he sees that you are flustered.
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I really really really tried to imagine scenarios with Malleus or Lilia, but I couldn't think of anything very meaningful.
Malleus wouldn't understand the problem even if you tried to explain it to him because... it doesn't make sense to him. They're just marks. He also has marks, like, on his forehead. Is there something wrong with this?
And Lilia would just laugh for you thinking this is a problem and just tell you to forget about it.
They wouldn't understand, because it wouldn't make any difference to them at all. And that's it.
With Vil and Idia I was able to think of something because they are, like, from this generation, and because one is in the beauty industry and the other is, probably, chronically online, they can see where your insecurity comes from. But for someone like Malleus or Lilia, this type of insecurity has no basis whatsoever. I really don't know what to write with them.
Sorry. 🥺
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If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
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katsu28 · 2 days ago
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summer's golden haze - chapter five
pairing: lando norris x reader
summary: a day trip to ibiza, a nightclub, and max—who can't keep his mouth shut. (5.3k)
a/n: apologies for the lack of new chapters these past few months! writer’s block is such a bitch but i’m happy to say that i am back and working on this series as best i can <3
previous chapter | masterlist
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Everything people say about time flying when you’re having fun has never been truer. You’ve developed a close friendship with Lando and his friends, and something even better with the boy himself. 
You’d say you were surprised at how fast you’ve fallen for him, but you’d be lying. Sure, you haven’t known him long at all, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that Lando Norris really was that missing thing in your life. He slots in like he was meant to, just as you hoped he would. 
You’ve all found yourselves spending more time at their place than yours because it’s just nicer. Today is no different. 
Lando’s chin sits hooked over your shoulder comfortably, stubble on his face a little scratchy, but it doesn’t annoy you. Especially not with the way the thumb of his hand on your waist is rubbing circles into the sliver of bare skin between your top and shorts.
He’s warm to the touch, but not unbearably so, more like a comforting warmth draped against you as he nuzzles closer. 
He likes to be close to you, you've learned very quickly—more often than not always having some part of him touching you. Fingers intertwined with yours, an arm slung over your shoulders, a hand on your waist. When you're sitting, it's a thigh pressed against yours, a warm palm blanketing your knee. 
Right now, he’s decided on sharing the same sun lounger as you, wedged himself in behind you comfortably.
Normally, you might’ve been put off by the sheer amount of casual physical affection he shows, but you can’t bring yourself to mind it. You want to be close to him all the time too, you’re just taking a little longer to warm up to instigating it. 
“What’re you lot up to tomorrow?” He asks casually, walking his fingers down your arm. 
“Mm, nothing probably. Might just do a beach day and chill out. Maybe take a little walk, I dunno.” You shrug. “You?” 
“Flying to Ibiza for the day. My mate Martin’s doing a DJ thing at a club there, figured we’d go support a friend.” 
You pout up at him, cooing. “You guys are so sweet.” 
“Yeah, yeah, alright. Come off it now.” He rolls his eyes, pinching your hip. You squirm at the ticklish feeling, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. He perks up then, and you swear you can almost see the gears turning in his brain. “Would you guys wanna come with us? We could hit up the beach together, hit up Martin’s gig at night, then fly back here afterwards.”
“It’s a boys’ day trip, we wouldn’t want to crash it,” You insist, shaking your head. “We’ll see each other when you get back.” 
“But I’ll miss you.” He frowns, wrapping an arm around your waist. 
“I think you’ll be fine.” 
He buries his nose into the crook of your neck, muffling his response. “No, I think I might die.”
It’s kind of sweet, you think, that Lando gets so pouty over not getting to see you for just a day. One might call him clingy, but you find it cute.
You attest it to the two of you still being in the honeymoon phase of your relationship, and it makes you happy, but something else gnaws at your stomach. You’re not even sure what it is. 
Before you can say anything, he angles his head towards the rest of the group, covering your ears gently before shouting, “Oi! We’re all going to Ibiza tomorrow, it’s been settled already. We’ll swing round yours to pick you girls up, then head to the airport.” 
He gets no objections from anyone, which you didn’t think he would, and it makes him beam. 
You try to see it from his perspective. Sun, sand, beautiful views. The two of you get to spend the day together on the gorgeous beaches of Ibiza. If you put aside your worries, everything sounds wonderful.
So why do you have this nagging feeling this isn't going to go as smoothly as Lando says it will? 
-------
It seems like you’ve just blinked and suddenly it’s the next morning and you’re heading into the hangar of a private airstrip.
The sun has barely begun to peek over the horizon, and honestly, you’re still half asleep. Most of your weight is leaned against Lando’s shoulder, who’s got a strong arm slung around your waist even as he chats away with his boys on the way in. 
You haven’t packed much at all, just a bag with a nicer outfit you can change into before going to the club. Lando insisted on carrying it for you, so it sits looped over his other shoulder. 
You aren’t sure what you were expecting when he’d brought up flying to Ibiza just for the day, but for some reason, the private jet your gaze lands on as soon as you enter the hangar has you a bit stunned for words. The unfamiliarity of your surroundings wakes you up even more as you ascend the stairs onto the jet. 
A long sofa stretches across the wall opposite you, sleek white leather to match the cushy armchair you’ve settled into. Elegant polished dark wood tables separate the banks of chairs, and there’s a fully stocked bar at the back. Even the lighting of the cabin screams money, not those awful dim blue lights on commercial airlines. 
This is the kind of thing you’ve only seen in movies, and now here you are about to enjoy a few hours on one with your very new, very rich boyfriend. It feels unreal, and honestly a little daunting.
Then in the back of your mind, you remember that this is probably just how his life is. Private jets and day trips to beautiful places, anything he wants anytime he wants it. 
It’s one of two thoughts echoing through your head through the whole flight, the second one being that you don’t belong here. You don’t ride along in chartered jets, or go on impromptu day trips to beautiful islands. This is all completely uncharted territory for you and it makes your stomach twist, but you’re able to just pass it off as being a nervous flier. 
Lando holds your hand, makes sure you’re comfortable the whole time, and that’s that. There’s no need to worry him about what’s running rampant through your mind. 
Thankfully, you fall asleep not too long into the flight, and you don’t wake up until you’re on the ground in Ibiza. From there, it feels like a whirlwind has taken hold of you. You’re put into a car, driving, driving, driving god knows where. 
Lando won’t tell you a thing, just kisses your cheek and tells you not to worry. And just when you think you’re at your destination, you’re squeezed into a golf cart that eventually drops you off at a seemingly private marina. 
A large yacht sits before you, pristine white and polished to perfection. Lando beams, holding his arms out to the side like a game show host. “Ta-da! Look what we got for the day!” 
You’re at a loss for words. When he’d agreed to a joint beach day, you thought you’d actually be going to…well, a beach. 
“How the fuck did you manage to charter a yacht on such short notice?” Maren asks, clearly disbelieving. 
Lando aims a look at her over his sunglasses, arching a brow. “What, like it’s hard?” 
“Don’t do Elle Woods. You can’t pull it off,” Samira chimes in, to which Max nods his agreement. 
“Everyone’s a critic nowadays,” Lando mutters under his breath, flipping both of them off. “Just get on the boat, dream killers!” 
Your friends seem to be taking it in a much better stride than you are, because they go exploring the moment they climb right on alongside the rest of the boys, chattering excitedly. You, on the other hand, have to take a moment after Lando helps you on. 
“So? What do you think?” He asks earnestly, rocking on the balls of his feet. 
“It’s gorgeous,” You admit, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t know you were planning on getting a yacht.” 
“Yeah, I got it so we could have the day to ourselves. Dock somewhere remote, swim and have fun without anyone else around. I know how important privacy is to you, and I wanted you to be able to relax today.”
It hits you like a heavyweight right then. Lando did this for you. 
Went through all these last minute hoops that probably cost a fortune just so you’d feel comfortable. It has to be the sweetest, albeit most outrageous, thing anyone’s ever done for you. 
You close the distance between you in two steps, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. The force of it makes him stumble back a little bit, but he’s quick to recover, nuzzling deep into the crook of your neck with a smile you can feel pressed against your skin. 
“That was one hell of a thank you,” He breathes. You shrug innocently and he laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Ready to have some fun?” 
Turns out fun means putting an anchor down just off the shore of some small island not too far away. The day is starting to heat up a bit, perfect for you and the girls to stretch out on the cushioned benches and soak up the sun whilst the boys mess around in the water off the back of the boat. 
You’re not sure how long you lay there, but you’re about ready to drift off when you feel something on your face. A drop of water hits you square in the forehead, another hits your cheek, and it makes you peek one eye open. 
Lando stands right above you, beaming down at you as he drips water everywhere.
“Hi. Water’s nice,” He says, shaking his hair out not unlike a dog would shake out its fur. Droplets spray all over you with the action, making you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily. 
You wipe the water off your face with an amused chuckle. “Yeah, I think I can tell. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“You should come in.” 
“Maybe later. My sunscreen might not be dry yet.” 
“I think it’s plenty dry.” 
You arch a brow at his insistence, suspicious of the mischievous smile curving his lips, the glint in his eyes. He’s got something in that mind of his, and you’re starting to grasp what it might be. You sit up, inching away from him as he creeps closer. “Stop it. Lando, no. Don’t even think about it!”
He flops on top of you gently, enough to make you roll your eyes but not enough to smother you. “Lovely place to have a lay, innit?” He says innocently, squinting down at you. 
“It was,” You groan dramatically, wrinkling your nose at the puddle of water beginning to pool around you. “Now I’m being crushed.” 
“Are you calling me fat?” 
“No, no, the words you're looking for are big and strong and handsome. Did I mention the word strong?” 
“Twice, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.” 
“Careful, or I might start to think you have a praise kink,” You joke. Though judging by the immediate blush that blooms across his cheeks and ears, you might’ve just discovered something about your boyfriend. “Oh! You—I didn’t mean it like—”
His lips press against yours before you can finish your sentence as if to deter you from finishing your sentence, and you forget what you were saying in the first place. You’ve found that this is usually the case any time Lando kisses you, any and all previous thoughts disappearing without a trace only to be taken up by one singular thing—him. 
“Get a room, you two!” Samira grumbles, bringing you back to reality. “Happy for you and all, but I’m trying to sleep over here.” 
Right. 
You’d forgotten you were laying right next to her. Evidently Lando has too, because he whines something unintelligible, face hot against your bare skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck in embarrassment. 
“Sorry,” You mumble, giving Lando a pat on the back to make him get off you. He does so, but not without a pout. The quick kiss you press to his shoulder when you pull yourself into an upright position is enough to settle him. 
He tilts his head invitingly, eyes bright now. “Come swim?” 
“Is the water nice?” 
“It’d be nicer if you were in it.” 
“I’m serious, Lando! Is it cold?”
“Guess you’ll just have to jump in and see.” He shrugs, winks at you playfully before ambling away.
You can’t help but admire Lando as he walks away from you, broad shoulders on full display, muscles shifting as he stretches his arms high over his head. Moles dot the expanse of his back, and it makes you want to trace your fingers along his tanned skin like you’re playing connect the dots. 
You’re expecting him to head for the back of the boat, but he goes towards the ladder heading up to the roof of the boat. 
“Now what exactly do you think you’re doing?” You call after him, raising your hand to block the sun shining in your eyes. 
“Jumping off the roof!” 
“Are you serious?” 
“It’s totally safe! I’ve done it before,” Lando reasons, waiting until he reaches the top of the ladder to offer you a smile. Somehow that doesn’t make you feel any better about him taking a flying leap from that high. “Wanna give it a go?” 
The words fuck and no teeter at the very tip of your tongue, but he’s grinning so big, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t at least a little bit intrigued.
Jumping off the roof of a yacht into crystal clear waters isn’t something you’ve ever thought you’d do, but then again, you’ve been doing a lot of things you never thought you’d do on this trip. 
“If I die, I’m haunting your ass forever,” You warn. Once you’re up the ladder on your own, you accept his outstretched hand onto the roof as he leads you carefully to the edge, fingers firmly tangled with yours. 
“There’s no one I’d rather be haunted by.” 
He leaps, taking you with him before you can even think of a response, and for a few moments, you feel weightless, falling through the air with nothing but Lando’s hand to ground you. It feels less terrifying and more freeing than you’d thought. 
You squeeze your eyes shut just before you hit the water, keeping them closed as you sink deeper and deeper. Lando’s hand leaves yours, but you don’t panic. You let yourself float, reveling in the quiet of being underwater until you start to feel it in your chest, and only then do you push towards the surface in a flume of bubbles.
The breath of air you inhale once you get above water is refreshing, and you tip your chin towards the sky, taking in the warm sunlight with a sigh. You wipe away the water cascading down your face before paddling back towards the boat, where Lando is sitting with his legs hanging off the back of it, waving at you. 
“What’d you think?” He asks earnestly once he’s pulled you out of the water to sit next to him. 
“That was…exhilarating.” 
“See, I told you it was fun! Stick with me, baby, I’ll show you the world.” 
Somehow, you don’t doubt that. If you’re an example of playing it safe, Lando is the definition of full sending it, impulse and chaos behind a handsome face. 
-------
The day flies by, and before you know it, it’s time to head back to shore. Thankfully, the yacht is well equipped with a shower in the bathroom, so you’re able to freshen up nicely when the time comes.
Lando lets out a low whistle when you emerge back out onto the deck, eyes dragging down your whole body, drinking in the sight of you with his lower lip tugged between his teeth. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down your spine, makes your cheeks flame hot. 
“Damn, you’re hot, girl!” He grins, winking at you. 
“Stop it,” You huff, adjusting the strap of your heel. 
“What? It’s true! Can’t I pay my hot girlfriend a compliment?” He argues, looking absolutely giddy. “C’mon, give me a spin.” You roll your eyes but oblige, and he whistles again. “My god, I’m a lucky guy.” 
“You’re so ridiculous,” You chuckle, letting yourself be tucked under his arm as you make your way to join the rest of your friends.  
“If ridiculous means obsessed with you, then yes, I am ridiculous.” 
The place is only a stone’s throw away from the public beach near the marina and already bouncing when you get there. You’re expecting to fold into the crowd of people, but Lando skirts around it, heading for the very front of the giant area, towards the DJ box. 
Maren’s hand clamps around your arm, squeezing tightly. “That’s Martin fucking Garrix!” She hisses, jutting her chin towards the stage aggressively. “You didn’t tell us Lando’s friend Martin was Martin fucking Garrix!” 
“He didn’t even tell me, how was I supposed to know?!” is all you can utter back in response. 
You’re just as taken by surprise as she is. You’d have never expected Lando’s friend Martin to be Martin Garrix. It’s not a connection you would’ve made at all, but you keep forgetting Lando is actually famous. Of course he has famous friends. 
Martin gestures for one of the other people there to take over the set, swapping out to come say hello as soon as he spots Lando. Both boys sport identical massive smiles. 
“Mate, it is good to see you again,” He says earnestly, bringing Lando into a tight hug. “I’ve been meaning to make it out to a race! You look great out there, though.” 
Lando shrugs, enthusiasm flickering a little at the mention of work, but only for a split second. “Could be doing better, but yeah, cheers!” 
Martin’s eyes flick over to you and he must get the sense that you’re a little nervous, because his smile turns more polite. “See you’ve made some new friends. Nice to meet you all, I’m Martin.” Then he notices how Lando’s moved closer to be next to you and you’re sure he’s already got things figured out. “Enjoy the set! I’m sure Lando will take good care of you.” 
A few drinks in your system helps relax the knot of nerves sitting on your chest a significant amount, enough so to where you’ve actually started to enjoy yourself. 
Lando’s hands slide around your waist from behind to sit at your hips, chest pressed up against your back as his chin drops down to nestle in the crook of your neck. He moves with the beat and you find yourself following, guided by his firm grip.
It’s so easy to get lost in him. You want to let yourself get lost in him, let yourself sink back into him and let your inhibitions free. But you can’t. 
Anyone can see you right now, seeing as you’re not exactly in a private place. You’re tucked off to the side, partially obscured by Martin’s booth and entourage, but it wouldn’t be hard for someone to take a good look and recognize Lando, even with the smoke and flashing lights. 
It’s risky to stay like this, and you want to tell him that, but then his lips press against the skin of your shoulder tenderly and your brain nearly short circuits. Heat blooms where he kisses you, traveling up to your cheeks and down to your toes like you've just been standing too close to a flickering fire. 
It isn’t until his nose nudges in right behind your ear, and his warm breath fans across your heated skin, that you suddenly feel like you can’t breathe. The loud music dulls down into background noise to the pounding of your heart in your ears.
Taking a shuddering inhale, you wriggle free of Lando’s grip, mumbling something to him about needing air as best you can and taking off before he can figure out what’s happening. 
You squeeze through the crowd rather forcefully, just needing to get somewhere without people, somewhere quiet where you can catch your breath and calm yourself down. 
Somehow you find yourself back at the beach, throwing yourself down onto a bench and burying your face into your hands with a frustrated, strangled groan. 
You don’t even know what’s wrong. Everything is good—you’re with your best friends, with Lando, and you’re supposed to be having fun. So why do you feel like you’re not supposed to be here? 
The answer is a mystery even to you. 
Watching the gentle waves lap over the shore proves rather soothing, a repetitive back and forth that helps ease your mind just the slightest bit. Only a few people mill around at this time of night, and they pay you no notice. You’re free to drown in your own thoughts without any of them being any the wiser. 
Footsteps approach some time later. How long, you’re not exactly sure—wallowing in your own self pity feels timeless. The tips of a familiar pair of trainers step into your field of vision, and you make yourself let your gaze follow up to see the extremely concerned face of their owner. 
Lando doesn’t say anything when you meet his eyes, just holds out his hand for you to take. When all you do is blink at him, then he speaks. “C’mon, let’s take a walk.” He tilts his head over his shoulder, towards the beach behind him. 
“I can’t walk on sand in these heels,” You sniff, scowling a little bit. It’s a shit excuse, you know that, but you don’t feel like being very cooperative right now. 
“I’ll hold them,” He replies, toeing off his own shoes first. You give in almost too easily, slipping off yours to give to him and accepting his other hand up. His fingers immediately intertwine with yours, tugging you closer to him as you step into the sand.
You walk along the shore for a while before either of you feel like saying anything, and it’s him who speaks first. 
“Are you alright, love?” He asks gently. Rather than saying anything, you press your lips together. “C’mon, will you talk to me? Please?” His voice is so soft, so full of genuine concern for you it makes you start to feel bad. “I think it’ll make you feel better, instead of holding everything in.” 
“All of this—the jet, the yacht, everything—it’s a lot to take in,” You admit quietly, staring hard at the sand in front of you. “And I know you did it for me, so I’d feel comfortable, and I love how thoughtful you are when it comes to these things. But I…this is all completely new for me. Like, I can’t help but feel like such an outsider.”
Lando’s expression crumples. “Oh. I didn’t mean to—that wasn’t my intention. To make you feel like you don’t belong.”
“You don’t need to be sorry. It’s not you, it’s me.”
“This sounds like the start of a romcom breakup scene,” He says, then he freezes, brows furrowing. “Wait, is this—” 
“No! No, I’m not breaking up with you. I’m just…saying things.” 
“Okay.” He nods, looking thoughtful. “How can I fix this, how can I help with what you’re feeling?” 
You smile at him, grateful that he’s asking even though there isn’t anything for him to do about how you’re feeling. Putting it out there is already starting to help, actually. You were scared about your thoughts and feelings being cast aside, but Lando hasn’t done that. He’s nothing but kind and caring about it. About you. 
“I’m fine, Lando. Thank you though, you’re sweet,” You assure him, kissing his cheek. “Mind if we walk a little longer before going back to Martin’s set?” 
“We don’t have to go back,” He suggests. “We can stay here, go somewhere else, anything you want.” 
“I want to go back. It’ll be fun,” You say, nodding firmly. The action is meant to reassure yourself more so than Lando, but he’s the one who looks wary. 
His head cocks to the side, brows furrowing in gentle caution. “Are you sure?” 
“Positive. I’ll be fine, I promise.” 
-------
The jet is quiet on the way back to Greece after Martin’s gig lets out, with good reason. It’s late at night, bordering on very early morning, and everyone’s asleep except you and Max, who’s on the phone with his girlfriend.
Judging by the way Lando immediately found his way into your space as soon as you all settled in for the flight and promptly conked out not five minutes later, he's exhausted. 
You glance down at the boy currently snoozing away curled up with his head in your lap, one of your hands clutched between both of his. His chest rises and falls rhythmically in his sleep, long lashes fluttering against the tops of his cheekbones. 
Honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever been as content with someone as you are now with Lando. Even though things between you are still new, you feel like you really can be yourself without judgement around him too. And that talk you’d had at the beach has definitely lifted the weight off your shoulders a good amount.
Still, there’s something else you have to get off your chest. You turn your gaze on the only other person you can talk to right now, the one person you do want to talk to. 
Max ends his call shortly after with a quiet love you, see you soon, catching your eye with a sheepish smile as he sets the phone down on the table. “Pietra says hi. She’s looking forward to meeting you guys when she flies in.” 
“We’re excited to meet her too, she sounds amazing.” 
“Yeah, she is,” Max sighs. Then he squints at you, like he knows something is amiss. “Is everything alright? You look like you’ve got something on your mind.” 
You nod carefully, absentmindedly winding one of Lando’s springy curls around your finger. He exhales a little harder in his sleep when you let it bounce back into place but doesn’t wake up, just snuggles deeper into you. “It’s kind of a weird thing to bring up, but I feel like I have to ask.” 
“Anything, go ahead. We’re friends, aren’t we?” It’s actually reassuring to know that Max’s opinion on you hasn’t changed since you’d gotten together with his best friend. You’re still friends just the same. That thought helps you muster up the courage to say what’s been weighing on you. 
“Are you okay with us? Lando and I, I mean.” 
You aren’t seeking his approval or anything, you just want him to be okay with the two of you. Or maybe you are, you’re not really sure. Max is Lando’s best friend, his brother. Other than Lando’s family, who you can't even think about meeting one day without your stomach churning, he's the person who's known Lando best since they were kids. 
All these people, they’re everything to him, and it's important for you to know where they stand. 
Max smiles warmly, says your name in that same soft, gentle way Lando always does when you get unsure. “You’re exactly the kind of person Lando needs in his life. Someone away from everything he’s got going on, someone who genuinely cares for him the way you do. You’re perfect for each other, and I hope you know that.”
You swallow the lump rising in your throat, smiling at Max through eyes glossy with welled up tears. His blessing brings you comfort, even if you weren't looking for it. “Thank you.” 
“No, I feel like I should be the one thanking you.” 
Your brows furrow, head tilting curiously to the side as to what he means. “Me? What did I do?” 
“I know Lando’s filled you in about what’s been going on, so you know that he’s had a bit of a rough time lately.” Max says softly, clearing his throat to rid himself of the emotional thickness in his tone. You can tell how much Max really loves and cares for Lando. “He’s not been himself for a while, so this summer break, this trip, it was something that might help him leave it all behind. Just relax and find himself again, ‘cause it wasn’t good for him, bottling it all up like he was.” 
Your heart aches for Lando. You can’t help but want to protect him. It was true when you’d been just friends and only grown truer since. 
“I wasn’t sure if it was doing him any good, but then we met you, and I swear to god I haven’t seen him smile this much in ages. He’s been so happy, so in love, it’s been—shit, I don’t even know what else I can say other than thank you. You’ve made my best mate himself again, and…I think I owe you everything for that.” 
You know there are other parts of his sentence that you should be paying attention to—being the reason Lando feels like himself again, making him happy—but only one thing echoes at the very forefront of your brain. “He’s in love with me?” 
Max’s eyes widen almost comically at the realization of what he’s just done. The juxtaposition of the heartfelt conversation you’ve had up until this point with the sudden exaggerated panic in his eyes would’ve cracked you up had you not been stunned by what he’d just let loose. “I really need to learn how to keep my fucking mouth shut.” 
“Lando told you he was in love with me?” You press. You’d kick him under the table, but then you’d risk waking up the subject of your conversation. Max just blinks at you, probably trying to figure out a way out of this. “Max.” 
“Fuck, fine! Yeah, he told me.” You raise an expectant brow for him to elaborate. “Jesus, did you want a timestamp? He said, I think I’m falling in love with her.” 
“He thinks?” 
“Well, I don’t know! I’m not a mind reader, am I?” He huffs. Upon seeing your brows furrow, he sighs. “But if I could read his mind, I’d say yes. I’ve known Lando…shit, I dunno, ten years now? And I’ve never seen him like this with anyone else before. You’re special to him.” 
“He’s special to me too,” You say softly, stroking a thumb over Lando’s knuckles gently. It should feel strange how much you feel for this boy and how strong those feelings are, but for some reason, it doesn’t. It feels exactly right. 
“I feel obligated to give you the usual ‘hurt my best friend and I’ll hurt you’ bit, but I know you won’t. You’ve been a great friend these last couple weeks, and I trust you with him. I trust that you’ll love him as much as he loves you. You do, don’t you?” 
You sigh, chuckling softly. “Figured out that one easily too, haven’t you?” 
“Please, I’ve known since the day you lot came round ours for the barbeque. And both of you are shit at hiding things, by the way. You’d be terrible spies.” 
“Thanks, Max. Seriously.” 
“For calling you a crappy liar? You’re welcome, I guess?” He’s only joking, but you know he knows what you mean. Max is a really good guy, a really good friend, both to you and to Lando. “And if he ever hurts you, loop me in. I’ll give him a proper beating for hurting my friend.” 
“Oh, I will. Avoid the face though, I kinda like it.” 
Max snorts, shaking his head playfully. “Yeah, he’s got a nice mug, that one. Real moneymaker.”
The moneymaker is drooling a little bit with his cheek smushed up against your leg, but you pay it no mind. He still looks good. 
He’s actually starting to look like your whole world, all wrapped up into one perfectly flawed human being. 
follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new chapter :)
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olderthannetfic · 2 days ago
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Hi OTNF and everyone,
I am finding that it's harder and harder and harder to get into anything - book, show, movie... most things seem, you know, to just not be doing it for me, be it fanfic or original stuff.
In part, I think, it's a general restlessness and that it's become harder to give anything enough time to get into the stories, the characters, the settings, the narrative voices... I guess you can call it attention deficit on my part, just a need for stories to deliver those sweet, sweet hits quickly, but they're not.
I'm not currently ficcing but I did for years (might again in the future, who knows), and it's made reading, specifically, harder. It's like I've become more aware of what goes on behind the scene, I guess? I feel like I can see the writer giving up on a sentence, skipping a scene because fuck this, trying hard to not repeat a word although it's the only one that fits, etc.
Or maybe it's just the *everything* around us in the world that is weighing on me too much? I could say it's adult life, but then again I have more free time than most (and boy do I need hours of doing nothing to survive the other hours), and no family/partner (all that would put even more pressure on me): what is wrong, to make everything so UGHHH?
I feel like I'm stuck in a rut with a brain moaning feed me, feeeed me, and whatever I try to give it, it spits everything out. (Yes, I've tried hobbies, and nothing sticks there either. I've never really found rewards or satisfaction there, so...)
Decades ago as a kid, I was a voracious reader, although studying literature took the pleasure of it away from me. It took time and discovering fanfic that brought me back to reading, but at the time the internet was starting to be a thing, too, and it can't have helped the attention thing. AFAIK I'm not ADHD but then again, I couldn't get a proper diagnosis (the therapists I saw were either dismissive or just about The Talking, which was pointless for me).
I just wonder how it all disappeared, you know? Sometimes I find something that catches my attention for a while - a book (but I read quite quickly when motivated), a fandom... but it's been a while now, and it's just so frustrating! When is it going to come back? Will it ever? *gulp*
I know that books were escapism when I was a child, and then fandom was escapism, but at the moment I find myself grabbing at air and my empty hands are mocking me. Give me my escapism baaaaack!
So, uh. Anyone here with me?
--
Yes.
I felt like that during part of lockdown. Anhedonia is common in those kinds of circumstances.
Getting your mojo back is certainly possible, but you may need to go see a professional about depression and have some chemical assistance (yes, even if you don't feel sad per se), or you may need to change your lifestyle to one that doesn't have the thing causing you to need eleventy billion hours of downtime.
Aside from serious interventions like that, you can consider a social media detox. Remove every source of doomscrolling and time wasting of that type. When the attention span is zero and nothing brings joy, the tiny and useless hits from finishing a game of solitaire or seeing one more instagram post become very attractive. This is a trap. It will suck what little energy and joy you have and make your muscles flabby for the work of getting into an in-depth book/hobby/experience.
I know the feeling of being able to see how the sausage is made, but... well... first, being in a better mental state will make that matter less, and second, reading prose that is more competent will make that less of an issue. A lot of mainstream tradpub genre fiction is not, in my opinion, very well written these days. Obviously, people are still enjoying it, and that's fine, but if you're noticing writers fumbling around, it might be time to check out some literary fiction or some other category known more for prose quality than anything else.
It's also important to have some structure and some things to look forward to. Even if you feel tired, overwhelmed, and busy, sometimes, the answer is to do more... But it must be things that are distinct and significant and that get you off of the couch, like going to one museum every weekend.
I saw some advice once about this kind of thing that phrased it as "One big adventure; one small adventure."
Every week, you should have those two things to look forward to that matter. Check out a new coffee shop. That could be the small one. Go to an event: a gallery opening, a concert, whatever.
Physical exercise and doing some things that aren't as verbal and conscious thought-involving is important too. Painting is a better hobby for zoning out than writing is. Taking long walks in nature is good for most people.
--
The kind of intense, obsessive love I had for reading as a child and that I sometimes have for fandom requires a lot of attention and some time. It's escapist, but that masks how much work it actually was. It didn't feel like work only because we were in training.
If you've filled your brain and your day up with a thousand petty annoyances or minor and useless attempts to feel something, you won't have the capacity for those deeper things.
Because you are already at a point that's equivalent to a bad sprained ankle, trying to get back to running right now won't work. You have to stay off of the ankle for a bit, then build your strength and stamina back up.
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robinsgrl · 2 days ago
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since im still getting hate through anon over “stealing” a concept that I didn’t know this woman had posted prior to me, im going to clear some things up.
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rafesangelita reblogged a post of my comment which was taken completely out of context and not me pioneering “weird!girl”. I was talking about the “fan club” that the commenter was referring to. She commented “weird girl fan club” and I responded with “I am the leader and founder of” meaning, I was the leader and founder of my weird girls FAN CLUB because I adored that character. in high school, all the clubs had a leader and a founder but that doesn’t mean they created the idea of the club, and that’s quite literally what i meant. Think of it like a silly little club in school, it was a joke about a fan club for my specific reader. Granted, it was worded weirdly but that was part of the joke. Like me “completing” the sentence. yes, im name dropping her because quite literally everyone in the fandom knows her and she reblogged a completely inaccurate post AND blocked me before I could even speak up.
^^ this issue has been resolved. we have both apologized and a statement was made. I understand her pov completely and if anyone was bothered to read the comments in this post AND read her statement, you wouldn’t be in my inbox harassing me still.
now for the woman who is claiming that i stole this concept from her. we dm’d and honestly, she was nice. i have nothing against her as a person. but she was still reblogging stuff that her friends posted about the situation and if it’s been “resolved” then stop reblogging things. anyway, she privately messaged me and admitted that she “blocked me previously to this happening”. i started writing for this fandom the end of november. I posted weird girl reader the first or second week of December. she admitted to blocking me since she saw the post and it blew up pretty quickly so im assuming that she blocked me around the same time that it was posted. i can not stress enough that i had not seen her work. as you can see that was almost a month ago. im not sure on my timeline because literally no one will tell me anything but my first post was nov. 22. it hasn’t been that long since i’ve been in this n fandom
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the few works that i DID read were texts posts. everything i read i literally reblogged under my recs. I hadn’t read much farther than that. Now i know there’s no way to prove that but it’s the truth. I didn’t see her posts. I didn’t know who she was. And I didn’t get the time to know who she was because she blocked me.
now, in her long post in that same reblog im talking about, she stresses that you can make weird girl different. that she spent time on her character and I’m sure she did. granted, I didn’t get to read her works because again, I’ve been blocked. but that’s quite literally the point of _!readers. writers have the control. they can base them off of whatever they want and she named those examples. just like she was proud of her reader, i was proud of mine. those things that my reader did in the series were things that i have quite literally done in my real life.
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the first part. i did the boob/pec thing to a gym guy that i was seeing back when i was 18. biting someone’s muscled arm was a trend that i saw on tiktok. Of women biting their so’s muscles.
the putting her hands in her boyfriends jeans to warm her cold hands up? i did that before and granted, it was with a girl that i was semi-seeing and not a guy like the original post, but I just flipped the scene. same with the ass slapping and grabbing joke. i do that to my friends. my friends. it’s weird, yes, but that’s why i wrote this weird girl with things i’ve done before because for a long time, i was considered weird. i was bullied in school for being weird, as im sure a lot of people have been.
this reader of mine was me. from the antics she did to the chronically online posts and texts. ive had so many people say that they, themselves have done these things with their significant others as well because tiktok and social media is normalizing not being so serious all the time, that it’s okay to be awkward and weird and goofy with the people you love. And as stated before, i go into writing weird girl reader as someone who’s on the spectrum. I don’t write that she is but as someone who is, those little pieces of me were in the story and im sure many who are can understand that.
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she goes on to say that people blow up on her for confronting them. im truly sorry she had that experience but i am not them. she should have come to me as an adult from the beginning. as a grown woman. we both are grown enough to have a civil conversation before name dropping and having people come to my page and say im plagiarizing and copying her when i did not know who she was. because im sorry to say this: you did not inspire me. i did not see your posts. i did not know your account. until this reblogged ask was posted, i did not know you existed. i can not give credit on a concept that i didn’t even know you posted ahead of me. quirky readers like this have been around for longer than your own. i remember reading one direction wattpad stories with quirky/off putting readers when i was a preteen, literally dozen off stories, and back when it was “not being like other girls”. this concept is not new and was not popularized by you. I am not saying that takes away from your work. You have a right to be upset when people steal your own personal work but a concept is a concept. And it’s not one that i stole or got inspiration from you. and i have to reiterate: I am not saying i came up with this on my own. Im not saying this was my idea. But i did not get it from you.
now cameronwillow is defending her friend and i get that. having friends like this is important in hard times but i do believe she and the original sender of the ask, blew this thing out of proportion. im glad you’re there for your friend, truly, a love like that is all anyone can ask for. but you did this the absolute wrong way. read the top to see what i mean. if you still think i copied or stole from your friend and that “credit wasn’t given”, then, you’re gonna keep having a tough time on the internet and in fandoms; tropes and concepts and plots are constantly reused.
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now, you posted that i should’ve messaged first. how when she admitted to blocking me when she saw my first weird girl post? you go on to say that “if you’re old enough to be on tumblr then you’re old enough to use your thumbs and message people off anon”. Now, the anon hate is wrong and anyone who is harassing your friend in a harsh way or calling her names, don’t take them as anyone I would support. I wouldn’t support any of them or any of that. If i found out who it was, i would report and block them myself. Hate through anon is wrong no matter what. But wouldn’t that go both ways? You all reblogged and posted things about me while I was blocked before we could have any sort of discussion as adults. (With the exception of dolly because she did unblock me and we had a discussion, although i will say it was too late.)
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those are the main few that i think had a lot of hold over the situation. dolly isn’t at fault here. but neither am i. it was a bad situation that was dealt with badly. feelings on all sides are valid but this is the internet, you have to be careful with what you post and how you word yourself. i should have worded myself better on that leader and founder comment and i admit that, it was wrong. but at the least all of these people can and should admit that they blew this entire thing out of proportion.
now, i do want to add that this person gravedigginbbydoll made a completely insane post. in my latin culture, mal de ojo/brujeria/ hexes are a terrifying thing. it’s not something to be messed with in any sort of way. i’ve seen first hand what those things can do to a person. my mother and her long line in mexico rebuke all of this. they fight against it. they cleanse others and us in ways that i wouldn’t even know existed if i wasn’t a part of them. you don’t have to believe in it but i do. I wholeheartedly believe in it. And maybe she didn’t mean me. Maybe she didn’t mean it seriously. But i took it seriously. My family, who im talking with this about is taking it seriously. If youre an avid believer and follower of this stuff, you should know that a post like that to a random girl on the internet, who just wanted to get a better grasp on this abrupt situation, is maniacal and evil. I believe in karma. Karma IS going to come for you over that post and over wishing those things on me (and others).
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I had a conversation with her friend under a post where we talk about the hate comments and anon and i agree, neither of us should get this hate. Not at all. And dolly has the right to her feelings. Plagiarism and copying is a real issues in fandoms and in fanfiction writing, one that i have dealt with myself in my past fandoms. But it’s also not insane of me to want to defend myself. I’m not “dragging it” by wanting to defend myself. I’m not “dragging it” by posting this. This is me defending myself and my writing because i am being completely honest— I did not know her work.
sensitive topic below here
Now to those who are defending me and sending me sweet messages, i love you all so much. It means the absolute world to me that you all are willing to hear me out and not jump to conclusions like many people are. And im so grateful for all the love on all my works, not only my weird girl posts. Fearless and Kildare nights were works that i was immensely proud of. Kildare Nights was a way to let out my silly little thoughts. I get attached to character and JJ was one that i was very attached to. The ending of s4 felt like a hole in me and i wanted to fill that. On top of that, a lot of you knew from my authors note that i was in the process of moving. I was lucky enough to find a place with my family in time before being evicted. I was homeless before this. I moved in with my mom because i was literally homeless. I slept in a shelter for a few days before renting a room in a random house with a random lady i met on Facebook. My mom, who I wasn’t talking to at the time, let me move back in with her. But she hadn’t told the landlord. So we were scrambling to find a place. Being homeless is a traumatizing part of life that I never want to go through again. And Kildare Nights is what got me through the nights where I wanted to give up again.
And Fearless was my baby. I’ve been a big girl my entire life. I was bullied for it relentlessly in high school to the point of developing an eating disorder that I still struggle with at 21 years old. I’m getting there slowly and surely but Fearless was for the big girls now and in the past that never felt like they could be loved. For the big girls who struggled to find themselves attractive or sexy or even pretty. To the big girls who have had mean girl experiences regarding their weight and just mean high school girls in general. We are deserving of love and romance and even the heartbreak that comes with all of that.
And im sorry to cut it all short. But this account is tainted by everyone who has name dropped me, who has blocked me, who has sent me hate through anon. By all of it. I may be grown and I should be able to handle these things but truth is im not. I don’t have the confidence nor am I in the correct frame of mind, mental health wise, to be putting up with all of this. I get that im not a child but Im 21 and still figuring things out. drama (because this is drama. despite saying its not.) shouldnt be in spaces that make us feel good, that make us feel empowered and that a lot of us use as an escape. thank you for hearing me out.
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anotheraccountonthisapp · 11 hours ago
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THEN YOU SHALL RECIEVE! in like 3-5 business days-
Okay but like first, what kind of genre of shows do you like? Horror? Mystery? Tragedy? Well tma is all of that and also somehow a workplace comedy and dare I say a romance? Whilst still being traumatic!
What's your opinion on gays? (I'd hope good bcs uhhh I am a queer) bcs TMA is full of queer rep especially in S5 that feels authentic and isn't done just for "diversity"
It's a podcast and I used to struggle with podcasts bcs attention and auditory processing but tma is just that good! I also use TMA transcripts which help me with differentiating voices and processing words. They also have content warnings. I'd recommend checking them in case as tma is really good at portraying stuff and descriptive but that can hit hard so you may need to skip a few eps. For me there were a few eps I related to but I felt more validated than anything. Like I felt seen and understood. How I felt was put into words! Plus I'm a sucker for extended metaphors.
Oh also it's a British podcast and as a Brit I love seeing media from my country :3 plus they've got those posh-London voices I adore and wish I possessed.
And then there's TMAGP which I'm currently listening to. I'm enjoying it and love we get a trans protag.
Tma has got short form story content via the statements and an overarching story with so much foreshadowing and clues!
Okay I think that's some of the key things if you want ill try and go into more details/answer questions :)
Plus you get some of the coolest fanart and if you do listen to it please dm me your opinions and theories and everything pls pls pls 🙏🙌
Okay imma let you go now bye :3
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they are the same to me
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