#its like there.... but not really there at the same time

[dogmasquerade]

reblogging because i think i wasnt clear with my original comment (also got a weird ask reminding me i made it) i didnt mean that humans werent also predators lol i was speaking in a colliqual sense. like to me the temps are viewing talita as a predator because she- in a human perspective- is to them. in the same way that most people don't think they could take on a tiger in a fight (ignoring those people who think they could punch out a bear) despite humans being the reason tigers are dying in the first place- we are massively destructive dangerous animals but we dont see ourselves as such. i understand ecologically that everythings eating other shit- to the fly the spider is scary to the spider the bird is to the bird the cat etc. i was more tryna say that i understand why the temps are... not so much scared, but not viewing her as "safe" even though obviously she is, instead of focussing on other traits about her, like the og asker mentioned. to them she's a giant crocodile beast, and they just make that assumption and stick with it, just like how people hate snakes and spiders because to them that's ugly venom beast without pausing to reconsider that.

I find the way the temps react to talita and how they refer to her as a predator really interesting. humans are also predators, apex ones at that, even without biomodding. I was wondering if you have plans to address this (or if you have in the past) because I think that's a really interesting way of singling her out instead of aiming for something they don't have in common like centaurs being less developed as a space race, the differences in anatomy, etc etc. I adore your worldbuilding!

In my experience very few humans conceptualize themselves as being animals with ecological roles like “predation.” To them ecology is something humans look at from the outside. They are looking at Talita from the outside, too.

[mameillieureennemie]

i had been thinking about this all day at work.

fwb!vi x f!reader - 1

summary: looks say far more than words can.

when you and vi first started this arrangement, the way she looked at you was different.

it was a look of hunger; a look that a mountain lion would possess as it laid its eyes on an innocent lamb. to say she wanted to eat you was too kind—she wanted to devour you, tear into your flesh with sharp, and wet her gullet with your blood.

it was possession that drove her to throw you on the bed before mounting you. the desperate urge to keep as she swallowed you whole, bones and all, until there was nothing left of you.

that was months ago, when the arrangement was still fresh. when you firmly stated that this was nothing but downright filthy sex, and vi agreed.

but everything has changed.

vi doesn't look at you the same.

except she does, but it's worse somehow.

while she still pins you down with that gaze of raw possession, it's...softened.

no longer is it harsh and jagged, slicing through your flesh with serrated edges. now, it cradles you, like gentle hands holding the delicate body of a baby bird. cautious, easy...

fond.

it terrifies you.

vi's nestled in the cradle of your thighs, hiding her face in the plush of your stomach. her arms are locked around your waist, tight and assured, and she's humming a tune. it's muffled, but it's familiar; a song that she lets loose when she's happy.

when she's happy with you.

there's a heavy rock in your stomach, pulling you down towards the ground. it may drag you through the earth, suffocating you in the terrifying heat of the earth's mantle. maybe the heat will kill you first, but you'll be killed nonetheless.

this is what your fear feels like. this is what you were afraid of.

vi's shifting on your lap momentarily draws you away from your inevitable breakdown. she's now lying on her back, baring her face back to the world—back to you.

the smile on her face is tender; it's what some might even call loving. the rock in your stomach gains five pounds, nausea pooling at the back of your throat.

no.

"hey, pretty girl," vi murmurs, low and slow, as if those words are her secrets. "what's going on in that head of yours?"

the words sit at the tip of your tongue, scrambling for freedom. they seep into your taste buds, leaving behind the most sour of tastes.

we need to stop this, is what yells to be said. we said no feelings. this was supposed to be about sex and nothing else. so why does it feel like you're in love with me?

why does it feel like i'm in love with you, too?

"nothing," you say instead, mimicking the low and slow, like you're also telling secrets. "just wondering about what i should do tonight."

you stress the i a little too harshly, but vi doesn't notice. or maybe she does and refuses to care. maybe she's acting on her own will, doing what feels right by her standards.

which is unfair; she isn't allowed to do this to you.

"well, if you don't anything in mind," vi says easily. "we could go catch a movie or something? maybe go and grab something to eat from jericho's?" the way she says we is too simple, as if it's always been we and not you and her.

you stare down at her for a moment, really take her in. the slope of her nose, the scar on her upper lip. the soft pinks of her cheeks, and her eyes. wide and power blue and far too expressive of their own good because she's looking at you with that look again.

that look that means way too much.

when you open your mouth, all that falls out is a lie.

"actually, i have to wake up early in the morning." you lie through your teeth because you need to get away from this—from her.

the look in vi's eyes changes, slips into something foreign; something unknown. you've never seen this look before, but you can't find it in yourself to worry about it.

when vi leaves, she presses a lingering kiss upon your lips. her hands grasp at you a bit too tightly, as if feeling you for the last time. then she's gone without a word, and a part of you wonders what that could have meant.

but as the weeks go by and vi goes unheard of, you suddenly realise on a deathly cold morning.

vi was saying goodbye.

[golden-bubblebee]

OH MY GOD this is such a big gripe for me!! I love my baba lots, but he has this idea that

1. Animation = boring and for kids

2. Animation = it is all the same

And I'm like!! No!! I even pooled anime into it just to get my point across, comparing the storyarc of Death Note and I think Prince of Egypt. Bc there is no comparison!!! They're two wholly different movies!!

And I agree, some animation does look more 'childish' (read: more rounded out 3d animation, like rise of the guardians) and some movies are better at finding that balance between 'adult jokes and themes vs child jokes and themes'. Emperor's new groove is a film that I think is very good at it. Personally, I think frozen less so. So guess what! I'm not rewatching frozen! It wasn’t my jam! But not because of the animation. Frozen has beautiful animation! Those don't go hand in hand!

Guess what, some of my favourite movies are from 1969 and 1993. On modern tellies, they are grainy blurry films. This doesn't stop my love for them!

I tried arguing this with him again when he was watching Love Death Robots on Netflix, an adult animation series in which every episode is its own shortfilm, and they're all animated differently.

I said 'okay what abt LDR then. You like watching that. That's also animation!' To which he replied 'no but LDR is different'

Maaaan. The difference is ofcourse that LDR is not a family film. There is nothing about that animation that's meant for kids. Well guess what, neither are Death Note and Naoki Urasawas monster! Those are animations, and they are big and scary!

Plus, I do also think that automatically assuming animation is only for kids, because it is animation is just plain wrong.

I tried using Big Hero 6 as an example. 'It's a film about a guy who loses is brother in a horrible fire. It follows his story of falling into a depression because of it, and slowly crawling back out when he goes on a journey to find the cause of his brothers death, and avenge him'

Does that sound like 'kids only' to you???

He then shrugged and said 'animation just isn't my thing'. Which, I do think, to an extend, is fair. Sure, you prefer irl people films. I can’t really say anything because I personally am not a big fan of live action films.

But there is one difference that gripes me:

Animation always looks different. Look me in the eye and tell me that Atlantis and tangled are the same style. I dare you.

Ofcourse there is stylistic overlap (Atlantis, Treasure island, prince of Egypt - Moana, frozen, tangled) but the messaging and themes of each film is different. Treasure island is a darker film, with pirates and tech and futuristic objects. Prince of egypt is oranges and reds, nature and architecture and a vast expanse of nothingess. To me that's like saying 'Oh I didn't watch Into the Wild, because it has real people in it. I watched the Matrix, and that had real people, and that wasn’t really my thing.'

It's not an argument I will win with him soon, mostly because he is so strongly convinced that kids movies ≠ family movies (if it's for kids, I can't enjoy it! Even if they deal with heavy topics like bad familial bonds, mourning and depression, having your dreams crushed, losing all hope, and so on) and that animation = animation, even though there are strong stylistic differences in it.

Maybe next time I should tell him that news media and social media are the same thing and that I don't go into newsmedia bc I get all my info from social media instead. Watch him get an anheurism right there in front of me.

animation being treated like a genre instead of a medium is something that actually makes me go insane. beauty and the beast is a romance. the emperor's new groove is a buddy comedy. big hero 6 is a superhero movie. moana is an adventure film. the lion king is a drama. treasure planet is sci-fi. if i was talking to someone who hadn't seen these movies before, and they weren't specifically interested in animation as a medium, then i wouldn't necessarily assume they'd enjoy all of these. and that's just disney movies! try telling an anime fan that fruits basket and fullmetal alchemist are the same genre and see how they react!

[neoraso]

bf things with boynextdoor

03z + 04z

sungho

cooks for you without a second thought. wants his baby fed and even before you started dating he always made extra when he knew you were coming around

sticks up for you always. if he sees ANYONE mistreating or teasing you too much he makes sure to end it there.

thinks you're THE funniest person alive. laughs harder and smiles more when you're around

lots of dates (shopping, cafe, eating, museums,etc.) but also loves to just stay in, cook and watch movies with you, talking and cuddling, he serenades you sometimes playfully >_<

loves to play with your hair and hold your hands- so simple but its so endearing and special to him to feel the back of your hand or your fingers curled in his own.

riwoo

was literally so shy around you before you started dating, now you are the person he feels most at home with. he doesn’t say it all the time but it shows when he’s around other people

carries your bags for you, holds your drink, etc. with no hesitance- even if someone points it out

is quite observant about your moods, habits, likes and dislikes. prides himself on knowing things about you no one else seems to care about-especially when he pulls out the most thoughtful gifts that leave you floored

feels a sense of responsibility for your care and overall wellbeing, but also feels incredibly comforted and safe with you

loves to share food and treats with you, all the time but especially when you look like you need a pick me up

jaehyun

he tries to not hang off of you like a backpack but fails within an hour and especially at night

everyone he introduces you to, coworkers, family members, friends, etc., all act like they know you from how much he talks about you. he thinks the world of you and loves to brag

every time he sees you it's like you've been gone for 6 years, even if it's only been a day; hugs so tight and gives 1 billion kisses, coos at you

an obvious mention: cute aggression that occurs so often it might be like a chronic affliction... srsly... kisses your face and head with a surprising amount of force and ur literally js sitting there, minding ur business

he elevates you. he's a great guy who you know deserves the world and it makes you want to live up to that. he feels the same about you and you guys encourage each other to be your best selves.

taesan

loves to have matching items with you (will spend hours customizing shoes or hats for you both)

loves days in where u just listen to whatever records you picked up the last time he brought you to the shop and lay there or slow dance around

lovessss meaningful gifts and gestures. will buy or make you snacks when you’re stressed or just bc would steal the moon for you if you asked

thinks everything you do is so cute and perfect and wonderful. literally so biased he will choose you to win over anyone

likes to pick you up from work or school even if its just to walk to the bus stop together and ride home (greatest protector award goes to…!!!)

leehan

your rock. soothes all your worries no matter how silly they seem. says really profound things like they're simple and- you guess they are when he’s around.

treats you oh so softly; tucks your hair behind your ears, pulls you into a hug like you're glass

nothing is embarrassing to him, he will wash your hair, shave your legs, brush your teeth for you. just ask and he’s there

likes when you sit with him while he watches his fishies,, you dont even have to be watching too but he feels so content with both of his favorite things to be around

the type where if you fall asleep on the couch instead of moving you, he'll just slip next to you to sleep too <<33

[hannieehaee]

LO$ER=LO♡ER

18+ / mdi

summary: jihoon's been pushed aside and ostracized from the moment he was born. completely alone, with no family and only a handful of friends, he's been too beaten down to expect anything good with the shitty cards life has dealt him. when he's presented with his new coworker, it's hard to not fantasize about her, but he'll never actually allow himself to believe she could ever look like him with anything but pity — just like everyone else.

content: loser!jihoon, antisocial!jihoon, sociallyawkward!jihoon, insecure!jihoon, sunshine!reader, jihoon is basically just a complete loser with horrible luck who's never felt true happiness (sorry), mentions of bullying, mentions of jihoon's sad past, sunshine!reader, slowburn, lots of worldbuilding but its just so u can feel sorry for jihoon lol, coworkers au, pining, miscommunication, afab reader, smut, sub!jihoon, virgin!jihoon, handjob, body worship, nipple play, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 14k

a/n: this was my fave concept to write so far honestly hehe

masterlist

Every week was the same.

Jihoon would get up, fix his overgrown hair the best he could, and take the train over to work.

This was as far as he'd gotten in life; an overly repetitive existence with no sense of joy within it.

He should've been happy. Things were better now. Being 27 with a stable job and no real issues in his life should be something to be grateful for, yet Jihoon found himself being completely displeased with his life.

Surely there must be more to life than this, right? A lonely and loveless life that appeared to be leading him nowhere. But still, things were better than before.

It was hard for Jihoon to speak of his childhood, much less his teenage years (or even his college life). It was all too grim. He'd grown to accept it, to let it all go, but the past had made him who he was, and he knew his current self was to blame for his loneliness. For his lack of love.

And so he continued his daily routine, living day after day with no change in sight. He accepted this with a flat smile, grateful that things were just fine. Not good, not great, not even varied, but just fine.

This week, though, finally had something different. But to Jihoon that was usually bad news.

Were you bad news?

You were the brand new thing in his life.

It was your first week in his office. A brand new face. A very pretty face.

Jihoon never thought about such things. He'd never had any romantic experience in his life. He had a long distance girlfriend once, but even that didn't work out. Too much distance, too many lies, too many complications. Jihoon just wasn't made for love.

So he never thought of such things again.

It was rare for him to even see a pretty girl on his day to day. His morning commute was far too early and filled with people way too old for him to even look in the eye without feeling disrespectful. His workplace, although consisted of a variety of people, was not a place where he felt very welcome initiating friendships or anything of the sort. Cliques had ended in high school, he thought, yet he found himself at the bottom of the food chain among his coworkers. He wasn't liked and was deliberately avoided by everyone around him.

Until you came along.

Finding you beautiful was no surprise to Jihoon. It was the most obvious thing in the world. Putting appearances aside, you were sunshine personified. Smart, confident, hardworking, gentle, nice, beautiful. You were everything anyone could ever want. At times Jihoon even wondered whether he wanted you or if he just wanted to be like you.

You'd caused an immense impression in him within the short time in which he'd known you.

He hadn't really gotten to know you on a personal level yet. But you had extended him an olive branch upon the first meeting, which was a memory that had implanted itself on his mind. It was rare for Jihoon to come by good memories.

This was the first time he'd felt accepted in a very long time. Yet the fears of it turning around and slapping him in the face (like in so many prior instances) was too big for him to really consider you good news in his life.

It was kind of embarrassing looking back at it. Jihoon hadn't been expecting you (how could he have?), but you suddenly showed up at his cubicle accompanied by one of his coworkers, Doyle.

Doyle wasn't someone Jihoon thought too much about — or at least he tried not to. He was the classic high school bully, except in a corporate-world wrapping. Jihoon had dealt with bullies his whole life, he'd become desensitized to it by now. Still, it bothered him to see him standing next to you. He hadn't met you yet, but he was immediately disheartened by the new girl at the office looking buddy-buddy with someone he considered an adversary.

What had been surprising to Jihoon, though, was your complete disinterest in Doyle's obvious advances.

It was pretty often that Doyle would attempt to assert his dominance by putting Jihoon down in front of other coworkers. He'd tease him and patronize him in front of anyone to see in order to show others who was in charge. And it was not Jihoon, that was for damn sure.

Jihoon got up as soon as he sensed a presence at his cubicle, somehow managing to stumble over his feet as he did so. When he looked up, he was not expecting you, yet there you were. Beautiful, smiling down at him with genuine interest in your eyes. You didn't know him, but you had kindness in your eyes. He could tell.

He stumbled over an introduction as Doyle interrupted him, telling you Jihoon's name and position at the company for him. Unwarranted and once again showing that if he so wished, he could speak over Jihoon.

But you'd interrupted him in return, turning to Jihoon to extend your hand with that smile never leaving your lips.

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," you'd smiled as he felt fire at the mere handshake.

"Hi, I, uhm, I'm Jihoon. Lee Jihoon. I didn't realize we had someone new coming. It's nice to meet you. You- If you need anything, you can always ask me," he slapped himself mentally when he said it. He stuttered his way through it like a fucking loser. His immediate attraction to you was too obvious. Doyle's smirk as he stood beside you told him all he needed to know.

"Oh, that's so nice, thank you! I'm right next door. Well- right next cubicle, so I'll probably take you up on that sooner or later," you laughed at your own attempt of a joke.

Jihoon couldn't help chuckling back, ignoring Doyle as he patted your shoulder, laughing along. Jihoon noticed a short-lived discomfort in your eyes at the action, one which died when your eyes went back to him.

Was he imagining it, or were you showing preference towards Jihoon?

"Well, let's not bother our little Jihoonie here any longer," Doyle interrupted once more, "It's almost lunch time," he leaned in to tell you, looking down at Jihoon, "We all usually go to a burger joint nearby — Jihoonie here likes to stay in, so we try to stay out of his way."

That wasn't entirely true.

Once upon a time, Jihoon did attempt to join the rest of his coworkers in outings, but he was always alienated. After a few too many slights about his hair, his height, his weird choice in clothing, or even just his personality, he decided to stray away from anything that wasn't strictly professional when it came to his coworkers. He was always the butt of the joke, so he made the decision to isolate in the office with a cold sandwich he packed for himself every day.

Sometimes his friends Soonyoung and Mingyu from accounting would join him, but there was usually not enough time to see them during regular working hours. This left him alone most of the time.

Your face seemed to deflate at Doyle's words. Whether it was out of pity for Jihoon or annoyance at Doyle's overzealous confidence around you, he wasn't sure.

"Oh, I actually brought a packed lunch," you told Doyle before turning to face Jihoon again, "Would it be okay if I stay in with you?", you looked at him with expectant eyes.

"You wanna, uhm, have lunch with me?", he asked dumbly and you nodded, "Y-yeah, that'd be nice, yes," he attempted a shy smile, succeeding when you returned it.

Doyle cleared his throat, interrupting the silent smiles you and Jihoon were sharing.

"Well, I could stay in with you if you want, I-"

But you interrupted him again.

"That's fine. I don't wanna get in the way of your plans. Jihoon will make fine company," you said politely, stepping away from Doyle to head over to your desk, popping back next to Jihoon with a brown paper bag.

Doyle looked dumbfounded for a few moments before masking it with a tight smile. Jihoon simply stood there as you pulled up a chair and settled it on Jihoon's desk, paying no mind to Doyle.

"I guess I'll leave you two to it. I'll keep showing you around after lunch. You have my number if you need anything," Doyle made emphasis on that last statement, offering you what looked like a genuine smile before giving Jihoon a look that told him he still felt victorious in the end.

"Thanks, Doyle! Bye!," you smiled back before turning to Jihoon.

Lunch was incredibly awkward for Jihoon. But that wasn't your fault. You'd been incredibly nice, asking him questions and keeping the conversation going despite the mumbly, shy mess Jihoon was. The conversation was entirely carried by you, with you surprisingly taking an interest in him. Every word, every gesture, they all led him to believe you were genuinely nice.

At the same time, he felt entirely delusional.

It wasn't often that people were nice to him, so it was likely he was building it up to be more than it actually was. You likely did not want to stay in with him, but after Doyle brought up that Jihoon was the only one in the office during lunch break, you had no option but to join him since you also planned to stay in. However, you were a good team player, Jihoon believed. Not many people would sacrifice their lunch to stay in with the black sheep of the office just to rid yourself of any possible awkwardness. Jihoon knew damn well many previous coworkers had gone out of their way to avoid him before.

But despite the belief that you simply pitied him, Jihoon missed your time spent together the moment it ended. He felt shy and blushed bright red at every single word uttered from you, but it had been the nicest interaction he'd had in a long time (a long, long time).

That had happened last Wednesday, repeating itself on Thursday, Friday, and then a whole weekend was spent with Jihoon solely thinking about you. Time that he usually spent reading or playing chess online was instead used up to think about you. It was mostly to overthink every tiny interaction and panic over it, but it was was still preoccupied by you.

But he also thought about other things.

How beautiful he found you to be. How nice, funny, hardworking, smart and riveting you were (despite this being an assessment he'd made in less than a week of knowing you). This was Jihoon's first crush in ... he couldn't even remember how long.

And it was terrible.

Every crush he'd ever had had turned out terribly. Harmless elementary school crushes turned into pranks pulled by his classmates in order to embarrass him. Prepubescent middle school crushes became false confessions that led to public embarrassment. Hopeless high school crushes were nothing but a farse that led him into giving up altogether.

Throughout his practically non-existent love life, Jihoon had always been met by nothing but discouragement, sometimes by simple rejection and other times by harassment from people who believed him to be unworthy of being liked. These were memories he did not like to relive, but the resurgence of feelings for someone brought them all back.

And so he was unsure of how to feel. He was unsure of whether to let himself like you or recoil, unwilling to even try.

"Hey, Jihoon, do you think you could help me with this?", you asked him on Monday.

After spending all weekend thinking about you, Monday finally came. He was unsure as to whether or not your friendly behavior would continue onto your second week, when you were more settled in. In the usual cold and reserved fashion he'd adopted for the past decade, he avoided you most of the morning. When he saw you in the elevator upon arriving at the office, he stalled, waiting for the door to close so he wouldn't have to share the ride with you. He hadn't wanted to avoid you so blatantly, but apparently his past trauma had taken control of his body at the time.

If you noticed, he hadn't realized. He hoped you hadn't.

And now, a few hours into the day, you were asking for his help, and even his anxieties couldn't prevent him from helping you. He wanted to be good to you. At the moment, it was what he wanted most. He was unsure as to why.

He got up, hands fidgeting together as he took the few steps over to your desk, awkwardly standing next to your seat as you turned towards the computer on screen. Taking a few steps closer, he cleared his throat, standing right behind you and leaning down in order to check out whatever was on screen before you began to explain.

"So sorry to bother you, Jihoon! I, uh, I was just wondering what I should do when I get this pop-up? I tried looking over the manual, but I couldn't find anything," you pointed over at the screen, eyes still on it, "It's just-"

Jihoon invertedly leaned closer, eyes also on the screen. As soon as he looked at what was on display, he locked in, fully focused on the issue at hand.

Surprisingly even to himself, Jihoon enjoyed his job. He was amazing at it, and getting to help you out was just a bonus.

"Oh, yeah. It's a glitch. It happens sometimes. Here, let me just ..."

Without thinking, he interrupted you, hands taking over your mouse and keyboard as he leaned impossibly closer without realizing it. His head was right next to yours, but since he was too focused on the task at hand, he did not have the realization to be flustered at the proximity. And then he fucked up even further.

Continuing to help you, he began rambling out explanations about what he was currently doing on screen. He rambled on and on, showing you step by step how to handle the issue and adding on extra details the average person would not concern themselves with. He was so into it, he didn't realize he went on for a good five minutes, all while you sat next to him, staring quietly at the screen as you watched his every move.

That was until he was abruptly interrupted.

"Jesus Christ, Jihoon, you're going to make the girl never want to ask for help again," Doyle's voice suddenly rang through, a mocking yet patronizing tone wrapped around every word.

Jihoon's movements halted when he heard a few giggles from other coworkers resounding at Doyle's statement. Slowly, he backed his hands away from the mouse, barely registering how close he was to you when his face turned to your own, finding you looking at him with a worried look on your face — he couldn't decipher what it meant, but he was too embarrassed to even think of it.

He jumped back at the proximity, mumbling out an apology with a bow of his head.

"S-sorry, I-"

"Yeah, yeah. It's fine, Jihoon, we all know you get a little over excited sometimes," Doyle leaned over the other side of the desk, "Don't mind him, Y/N. You'll learn to tune out his rambling at some point, we've all had to — that, or you'll go crazy."

Doyle turned around after that, throwing a wink over at you that, for some reason, made Jihoon wince.

Yeah, okay. He was a fucking loser, he was well aware. The reminder felt like overkill at this point in his life.

Like a dog with his tails between his legs, Jihoon looked down, giving you one last pathetic 'sorry' before turning away. Not even chancing a single glance your way after Doyle's interruption, he preferred to save himself further embarrassment and left the room altogether. He had done most of his work and lunch was close. Taking an early lunch seemed like the best idea.

Hastily, he grabbed the lunch bag under his desk and walked towards the exit, ears barely registering a faint 'Jihoon' coming from the direction he had just left.

~

Today, he'd chosen to leave the office for lunch.

Well, not really. He'd just stepped outside, finding some empty bench in front of the building to sit at. It wasn't like he could eat at his desk as per usual when everyone else was still there. He just couldn't stay there after being shut down like that in front of you.

All things considered, it hadn't been the most embarrassing thing to happen to him, but it still left him feeling like an absolute loser.

The worst of it all had been that you'd seen it all and hadn't even reacted.

It's not like he had expected you to stand up for him. Hell, you barely knew him. Maybe it was just easiest to engage with the majority; to laugh along when Doyle made a joke, joining in on the muted laughter of all his other coworkers any time Jihoon was used as the butt of some joke.

Except that you didn't laugh. Jihoon didn't even register your reaction before leaving, instead reacting in the same fashion as a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Fuck, you probably thought he was a fucking baby on top of already thinking of him as some defenseless loser. Jihoon wanted to blame it all on Doyle, but it was also his fault.

"Jihoon?"

His train of thought was interrupted by a sudden voice, startling him into squeezing his hands around the unbitten sandwich he'd been holding this whole time.

Turning to the voice, he found you standing there, paper bag in hand as you hesitated walking closer.

When he turned to you, mouth agape in surprise at your sudden appearance, you took a few steps forward, likely taking his silence as an okay. Like a fish out of water, he opened and closed his eyes a few times, unknowing of what to say. He really hadn't expected you to follow him out.

Dropping his sandwich, he cursed at himself. He attempted to catch it, but his hand to eye coordination had never been the best, so it just resulted in him fumbling his hands like an idiot before his sandwich met its demise on the dirty floor.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to catch you off guard," you apologized, rushing to the floor in front of him, squatting in front of him as you picked up his fallen lunch.

"I-It's fine, I-"

"No, Jihoon, I've already ruined your day enough, fuck. And now your lunch is ruined," you sounded genuinely disappointed, "Here, we can share my lunch! I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise."

You remained kneeling in front of him as he sat on the bench. Jihoon cringed at knowing your skirt would get dirty at its contact with the floor but you didn't seem to care. Instead, you looked up at him with worry towards him. Your eyebrows were furrowed and your bottom lip stuck out a bit in a small pout. It was both adorable and nerve-wracking.

"Please get up, you'll get your skirt dirty," was all he found himself saying.

Jihoon caught you chuckling under your breath before getting up, dusting your skirt and then taking a seat next to him. The distance you allowed between the two of you was too small for Jihoon's well-being, but a part of him deep down was happy about him.

You looked down at your lap for a bit, so did Jihoon. The two of you were quiet for a few seconds, but Jihoon was unsure why. You appeared to be bashful, perhaps even a little shy? It was strange to see. There was no reason for you to feel shy around Jihoon. He was the mess here. He was the one who should be avoiding eye contact, hiding himself away from you to ensure he didn't ruin things between you — Things, as if the two of you were anything at all. He was overthinking things again.

"Jihoon," you interrupted his train of thought.

"Hmm? Yeah?"

Idiot.

"I, uhm, I'm sorry about what happened back there," you began. Jihoon almost interrupted you, shaking his head and raising his hands to halt you, but you shook your own head, continuing, "I should've said something. I know I'm new, but god, Doyle's such an idiot. You didn't deserve that, especially since it was my fault. I'm really sorry."

Your eyes showed nothing but sincerity as you spoke. A certain worry reflected in your face, making Jihoon's heart soar, crumbling with some sort of guilt he didn't understand.

He had no idea how to react.

"I- I'm sorry," he stuttered, "I didn't- It's not your fault. I didn't mean to make you feel like-"

"What? No, Jihoon, I'm apologizing. You just wanted to help me and I wasn't appreciative. I should've told Doyle to get fucked," you put your lunch bag aside, scooting over a little closer and hesitating a bit before grabbing onto one of his hands, "I'm really sorry. I hope this doesn't hurt our friendship."

"Friendship?"

You flushed at his question, "Yeah, I, uh, aren't we friends? I know it's only been a few days, but-"

"Yes! We're friends, I'm sorry," you gave him a look, "Right, sorry, force of habit. Fuck, okay, I'll stop now," his hand itched in yours as you chuckled at him, "I ... Thank you. It's really nice of you to come check up on me. Don't, uh, feel like you have to stand up for me. Doyle's just ... well, what you said. I wouldn't want you to get picked on too."

"Don't worry about that, Jihoon. He wouldn't do that. He likes me," you revealed casually.

"What?"

"He asked me out last Friday, but I turned him down."

Jihoon's hand tightened around yours without him realizing. That revelation made him feel something he'd never felt before. It was as if his heart dropped while his jaw tightened. It might've been annoyance, but it felt stronger than that. Doyle? Doyle liked you? That bit was not shocking to Jihoon. But the fact that he'd asked you out surprised him. Did he have no care for you as a coworker? You were new, for god's sakes! What you needed was guidance, a friend, a colleague willing to walk you through the work like he needed back when he first started. Yet Doyle was instead choosing to-

"Jihoon? Are you okay?"

Fuck. He'd been rambling internally again. If Jihoon had a nickel for every time he embarrassed himself in front of you ..

"Yeah, uhm, sorry. Just, uh, don't really get along very well with Doyle."

"Can't imagine why," you said sarcastically, "Is there a story behind it?"

Your hand left his own at some point during your conversation, instead going to empty out your paper bag and absentmindedly split the sandwich you had in there. Without saying anything, you offered him a half, smiling in encouragement when he hesitated to take it.

"I, uh, it's nothing. Just dumb workplace drama," he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "I'm just not too good at standing up for myself."

That sure was a way to downplay it. But Doyle truly wasn't the sole culprit to Jihoon's history with alienation. This had been his entire life. Jihoon had grown far too accustomed to being harassed in every way imaginable. From alienation, to physical beatings, to even having his life threatened, Jihoon had gone through it all. Back in his youth, he wondered if it'd been something he'd done. If maybe he was just unlikable and that was why everyone either avoided him or attempted to make his life even more miserable. As he grew, he began to wonder if perhaps it'd been due to growing up without any proper socialization. His parents had, well, not really existed — something which pained him to think about — which left him sad and alone for most of his upbringing. This was probably why he was never able to properly interact with other people, leaving him as an easy and defenseless target.

It wasn't a secret to Jihoon that he was weird. And even that was an understatement. As a young boy, he was always into things that most people found strange. He was too focused on books and anything that could expand his intellect. This was followed by his incessant need to babble about his niche interests to anyone willing to listen (which was usually no one). He quickly into his teenage years that this was not welcomed by people — usually learning it through patronizing teasing or some classmates taking on physical means to shut him up. Unfortunately, even as an adult, he'd continued to make this mistake, thinking that maybe he'd meet people who enjoyed his eccentric personality without shutting him down. He'd done it at this same job, immediately learning that his input (or his personality in general) were not very well appreciated.

"But that's still not okay, he shouldn't-"

"Hey, it's fine, really," he smiled at you, "It's more than enough that you'd wanna, uh," he hesitated, "that you'd want to be my friend. You know, with all things considered."

"Are you kidding? You're easily the funnest person in the office," you moved past the subject, likely understanding it was a sore spot for him, "Everyone else is kind of stuck up, honestly."

"Hmm, yeah? I can believe that."

He went on to take a bite from the sandwich you'd offered him, humming at finally being able to fulfill some of his hunger.

"What, they're mean to you but you won't even say anything bad about them?" you gaped at him.

He shrugged, "It's not productive. I don't hate them."

"Wow. You're a way better person than I am, Lee Jihoon," you sounded impressed as you said it.

And that was more than good enough for him.

Jihoon's friendship with you continued to flourish during the upcoming months after that.

Any other instance in which Jihoon would've usually cowered under the targeted disdain of his coworkers was instead met with your intervention. You'd usually interrupt, somehow turning the conversation away from him or even subtly shooting back against whoever had decided to snark at Jihoon.

The first few times had him blushing an embarrassing shade of red, stammering as he attempted to respond or even just appear normal at what had just occurred. He'd never experienced someone standing up for him, much less did he feel like he deserved it. Having your presence in such uncomfortable circumstances was more than enough to aid him, but knowing that you wanted to defend him made his heart go crazy.

Within the short time that he'd known you, it was obvious to Jihoon that, against all his attempts to prevent it, he'd developed a crush on you.

Under any other set of circumstances, that might've been fine. However, Jihoon had never in his life been under normal circumstances.

Crushing on you was entirely too terrifying. You were the most perfect girl he'd ever met — the only girl he'd allowed himself to be interested in in far too many years. He knew deep within him that he could not allow these feelings to continue flourishing, but he had never been quite good at burying his emotions.

It felt so high school. All of it. He was the loser outcast and you were the pretty cheerleader the quarterback was chasing after. The only difference was that unlike in high school, you were giving him the time of day.

Back in school, any time Jihoon found himself liking a girl, he was never met with reciprocation. Which was fine, of course. There were a few instances, though, in which it went further than lack of reciprocation, or even just rejection. Jihoon would need more than two hands to count the amount of romantic humiliations he'd undergone in his life.

There had been instances where he was confessed to as a joke, or even times when he was led to believe his feelings were mutual, only to be rejected in some cruel way. It felt like out of a movie at times.

Jihoon supposed he couldn't really blame others for their childish games. He was an easy target, lacking any familial or any sort of adult protection during his youth. Plus, he knew his victimhood was only a phase of these people's lives.

It was strange, however, that staying at the bottom of the totem pole throughout his life just seemed to become normalcy for him. He expected that once he grew, got a respecting job and found more friends that he'd move up in social hierarchy — or at least stop being metaphorically beaten down at every turn (he was at least grateful that the beatings were now metaphorical rather than literal).

You were the complete opposite of him.

In the time he'd known you, he'd come to find out that your life up until now had been nothing short of picture-perfect. You made friends easily in the office, even befriending people outside of your department you had no obligation of interacting with. And this was not new to you. You'd let Jihoon in on your childhood, telling him about your years as a cheerleader in high school, even riding that cheerleader wave all the way to college. Your entire life had been spent happy and surrounded by people who enjoyed your company.

Yet, somehow, your company of choice had become Jihoon.

Being chosen, wanted — even if just platonically — was something Jihoon had never experienced. His brain would override every single time he saw you, attempting both to not fuck things up between you and to leave his crush dormant.

This proved incredibly difficult at times. Any time you subtly stood up for him, or any time you smiled at him before leading him outside for lunch (at the bench that had now become your place. Yours and Jihoon's) together, or even when you'd simply scoot your chair slightly closer to his own during meetings, Jihoon felt himself sink deeper and deeper. His heart and his brain were constantly working against each other.

Tonight would be his hardest battle as of yet.

The two of you had yet to see each other outside of work in the past two months you'd known each other. This was fine to Jihoon. More than fine, actually. It gave him time away from you to recover from the palpitations your mere presence caused him (which required quite a lot of time).

Tonight, however, was the in which night he'd begrudgingly agreed to join you and the rest of your department on a night out.

Apparently these happened every few weeks. Jihoon had never known about them. Figures.

You were an active participant of these outings, usually insisting that Jihoon tag along, that you'd be there and would not leave his side (God help him). He'd even come to find that his friends Soonyoung and Mingyu from accounting would be there. The realization that he was such a hermit that he didn't even know his closest friends hung out outside of work without him did bother him a little.

And so he agreed. Against his better judgment, he let your pout and your wide eyes talk him into going to a bar with people (mostly) he knew hated him.

~

Jihoon had been unsure of how to dress.

When he'd texted Mingyu about it, he'd been met with a three-way call between him, Gyu and Soonyoung celebrating his first social outing in months. And then he'd been berated about showing off his 'assets,' whatever that meant.

Sure, Jihoon knew he was more fit than the average person, but this was something he usually felt shy about. He believed himself to be overcompensating for everything else he lacked in his person, both physical and personality-wise. So, it was safe to say that most of his clothes did not show off his assets.

Still, he made the attempt to follow both Mingyu's and Soonyoung's advice when it came to dressing up. Even if his crush was currently forced down a basement and locked away, he still had some dumb desire of impressing you.

You impressed him every day, whether you meant to or not. There was no dress code at his company, but formal attire was pretty much the norm, and you ... you worked with it quite amazingly, if Jihoon had anything to say. From the pencil skirts to the perfectly tailored dress shirts and blouses, you always left Jihoon working overtime to avert his eyes to more respectable places.

And so today he wanted to impress you. Donning some tighter jeans than usual (to show off his lust-worthy legs, had said Soonyoung) and a dress shirt unbuttoned just enough to give way to his chest (which Mingyu had called 'sculpted to the gods'), Jihoon moved on to his hair. He'd come to realize that unlike most other people, you really liked his hair. You constantly complimented the length and the pale tone of it. Bleaching his hair was something he'd started to do once he graduated college. He wanted some sort of separation away from his hometown when he'd moved away to work at the company, and despite the constant negative feedback, he'd decided to keep it.

He opted to let it down tonight, diffusing it after washing it to ensure some volume and a slight wave to it.

He looked fine, he thought. Jihoon didn't have any particular positive opinion about his appearance, but at least he'd gone from thinking himself a hideous hermit to simply okay. But according to Mingyu and Soonyoung, who'd offered to drive him, he looked like sex waiting to happen.

Blushing, Jihoon was unsure as to whether he wanted that to come true or not.

~

The hardest part had been arriving at the bar.

You were the first person he spotted as he and his friends walked in. The place was packed with members of your office, people he'd only seen in passing as he made his way over to his floor gathered with coworkers he wished he didn't know as well as he did.

But all of that left his mind immediately upon registering it. You were his priority. And everyone else's it seemed. Various men in your vicinity had their eyes on you, Doyle included.

Jihoon couldn't blame them. How in the world could he when you looked like that?

You were completely ignorant to any of the attention you were receiving. Standing by the bar, you were nursing a drink, leaning your body against it and giving Jihoon (and everyone else) the perfect view of your form. The slip dress you were wearing was shorter than the usual skirts you wore at school, allowing your legs to receive the well-deserved attention of anyone willing to appreciate the beauty before them.

This was the most skin Jihoon had seen of you. It made him feel like a depraved pervert to stand there and just stare, but he was hypnotized. The fleeting thought of getting to do more than just see passed through his mind, sending shivers down his spine. He had to shake his head to remove any filthier thoughts from entering his mind. He felt embarrassed and idiotic involving you in such thoughts. A sad, lonely virgin using his one and only female friend to feed himself with such thoughts was incredibly sick and deprived and-

"Dude, stop drooling. You haven't even said hi yet."

Mingyu nudged at him, breaking him away from his trance at once. Jihoon shook his head again to reset, coughing awkwardly as he attempted to negate what Mingyu had said, only to be interrupted by the other guy he'd arrived with.

"You look like sex on legs, man. Go talk to her. We'll go find a table. Come find us if you fuck everything up somehow," Soonyoung received a swift punch to his shoulder at his comment, but shrugged it off as he gave Jihoon thumbs up, walking away with Mingyu.

Taking a deep breath, Jihoon walked over to you, finding you still distracted by your drink.

Before he could even announce his presence, you sensed him, turning back and immediately offering him a wide smile. Good, you were happy to see him.

"Jihoon!," you left your drink on the counter to engage with him in a hug. His arms hovered over your waist, avoiding direct contact both for his sanity and out of respect.

Physical contact had never been Jihoon's forte. Usually he'd need some sort of warning ahead of time in order to mentally prepare himself. When it came to you, he so badly wanted his proclivity against physical touch to burn and die in a fire. He found himself craving your hug the moment you pulled away.

"I honestly thought you wouldn't come," you chuckled.

"I promised I'd come," he smiled back.

"C'mon, let's get you a drink. On me," you turned back to the bar, flagging down the bartender before turning back to him, "You don't seem like a big drinker. Is a beer okay?", he nodded at you as you handed him the drink.

The two of you leaned against the bar after that, letting silence between you consume you. Jihoon wasn't sure what to say. This was the first time he'd seen a girl outside of work in ... well, ever. And it wasn't just any girl — it was you.

"You look beautiful," he braved, finishing it off with an awkward cough.

Your body turned to his, a shy smile being hidden behind a lip bite, "Yeah? High compliment coming from you."

"H-hmm?"

"Jihoon, you look amazing," you emphasized, "I had no idea you were hiding all this under those baggy suits," your hands went to play with the neck of his collar, "Maybe unbutton it one more?", you said as you did so, "There, that's better."

Jihoon burned up. A tomato's red shade could not compare to how red his ears must've been at that moment. He flushed, breath hitching at your fingers gracing the skin of his chest. All he could do was clear his throat and advert his eyes, awkwardly smiling and nodding at you.

"You're cute," you giggled.

"Uhm, are you drunk?", he couldn't help in asking.

You giggled again, "I'm not, Jihoon. Is it that hard to believe I find you cute? Because you are. I don't know how you don't realize. You've been getting eye-fucked by those girls over there since you walked in," you pointed behind him, leading him to find two girls attempting at subtly looking his way, whispering among each other.

"O-oh, uhm, I'm sure that's not what they're doing," he stumbled, flushed.

"Uh-huh. Anyways, c'mon. I hate hanging out at the bar. Let's find a table," you grabbed onto his wrist then, pulling him towards the back of the bar.

On his way to the table of your choosing, he spotted his two friends, receiving a childish thumbs up from Soonyoung and a mouthed 'my man!' from Mingyu. He groaned internally, shaking his head and frowning at them. Once you made it to an empty table, you even commented on it.

"Those are Soonyoung and Mingyu, right? I'd never actually met them before. Come here with them?"

"Oh, yeah. I- ignore them, they're just being dumb," he scoffed lightly.

His hands laid flat on the table, unknowing of what to do with them. Your demeanor was way more relaxed than his own. It was clear to anyone around that you could blend into any environment. Jihoon, in the meantime, had trouble adjusting practically anywhere, especially at a social pool such as a bar.

"It's fine, Jihoonie, they're just rooting for you," you winked at him before enveloping the straw of your own drink in your mouth.

Jihoon decided not to overthink that (or maybe save it for later), also swinging at his own drink to avoid more awkward words leaving his mouth. He wasn't even sure why he was being such a socially inept mess. The two of you had had long-winded conversations at work many times before, maybe it was just the current setting. It felt the way he assumed a date would, except that it wasn't.

"Hmm, can I have a sip? My drink's too sweet. Here, have a taste," you went to grab at his beer, shoving your pink drink to his side of the table.

Looking down at the straw, he noticed the red shimmer of your lipstick on it, gulping at the thought of letting his lips touch it. But before he could psych himself out, he did it.

Before actually sipping at the drink, he allowed himself taste the lipstick. It was a sick and depraved thing to do, but he couldn't help himself. If this was as much of you as he could have, then he'd take it. The cherry tang it left on his lips made it worth it, but he couldn't let himself to enjoy it for too long. The drink itself had been entirely too sweet, causing his nose to scrunch up, which immediately earned a giggle from across the table.

"Sweet, huh? I should've gone for a beer, but I figured you wouldn't mind sharing," you shrugged as you took another swing of it, handing it back afterwards.

Now his eyes landed on his own beer bottle, eyeing that same glimmer on the mouth of the bottle. Without thinking of it, he took an swing of it, dropping the bottle too harshly back on the table before looking back at you. There, his eyes couldn't help but finding your lips. He tried being subtle, but he seemed to be lacking that skill at the moment.

"Oh, is my lipstick smudged?," your hand went up to your mouth. You fished your purse for a compact mirror and a set of two tubes, smiling at him before beginning to reapply, "It's such a hassle. That's why I never wear darker lip products at work," you said mostly to yourself. Then, you turned to him, plumping your lips before smiling, "How's it look?"

There was absolutely no way you weren't hitting on him. Jihoon may have been an absolute idiot when it came to any social interaction, but he was sure you'd been hinting at something all night. Right?

This was the perfect moment for him to flirt back. To compliment you, to woo you and make his interest known. If any moment was tailored for such a thing, it was this one. Jihoon just needed to grow some balls for once and be assertive.

However, that is not what he did.

Instead of coming up with some charming one-liner, Jihoon instead stumbled over his words, delivering a mixture of 'uhm, yea!' and 'looks great!,' completely emotionless while also awkward.

Fortunately for Jihoon, all you did was giggle in return. It sometimes felt both demeaning and like a relief when you'd giggle in return to his awkwardness. He hoped to elicit different reactions out of you, but that fault fell completely on him.

You eyed the bar behind him, causing him to turn back. There was a small area that was supposed to make up a dancefloor. This wasn't exactly a club, but the dancing scene appeared pretty turned up. Jihoon could even spot his two friends on the dancefloor with some girls unknown to him.

When his head turned back to face you, you smiled at him, opening your mouth to speak. Jihoon could see where this was going.

"Hey, Jihoon. Wanna dance with me?"

You were grinning as you asked. That overexcitement that was usually present on your face was there once more. Disappointing you with a rejection was the very last thing Jihoon wanted to do. It was literally how he'd ended up out tonight.

But, still, his idiocy knew no limits, apparently.

"Oh, uh, I- I don't dance," he stammered, "Sorry."

He went back to nursing his drink, eyes avoiding yours and closing off from further questions. When he looked back up, he was mortified to find some dejection in your eyes.

He needed to salvage this. He was a good enough dancer. He had no idea why he'd even said no in the first place.

"I, uh, actually, I could-"

"Hey, beautiful. If he won't dance, I'll take you out for a spin. I'll give her back in a bit, Jihoon, don't worry."

Jihoon's abrupt interruption was, of course, delivered by Doyle. Why he had been close enough to make out your conversation, Jihoon had no idea. It irritated him, though. That was for damn sure.

Jihoon knew you wouldn't say yes to him. After the endless lunch breaks you'd spent together, you'd become privy to Doyle's treatment of Jihoon. And although you never once actually acted on the negative feelings that had inspired against Doyle, you had still expressed to Jihoon how much such things had dampened your view of him.

What Jihoon hadn't considered, though, had been the very frustrating concept of peer pressure making an appearance.

A few other coworkers at a nearby table started to instigate, encouraging you to go join Doyle. Claims that he was a great dancer and that you'd look good out there together were thrown around. Each comment made Jihoon sink more and more into his seat. At some point, one of the girls in your neighboring cubicles even walked over to you, grabbing your hand to further encourage you to accept Doyle's offer.

You appeared troubled. From Jihoon to Doyle to the girls, you looked back and forth, mouth opening and closing without an actual response leaving you. An uncomfortable smile was on your lips the entire time.

It was obvious to Jihoon you simply did not want to leave him to his own devices. You'd promised so, after all. So he decided to take you out of your misery.

Getting up, he cleared his throat, "Go ahead. I, uh, I'll just go hang out with Gyu and Soon. I kinda ditched them earlier."

He added a little white lie to really sell it. His friends wanted him to stay with you, but he didn't want to force you to not have fun. He had his chance, twice, and stupidly missed it.

"See? Jihoon's busy. This isn't really his scene anyway. C'mon," and so Doyle managed to pull you away.

As you walked away, you turned back to Jihoon, but he was faster. You mentioned going to find him after you were done, but Jihoon tuned it out. Walking away in order to get to his friends, he could hear a short exchange between a few comments made by some coworkers. They weren't anything new, but they still bothered him at this moment.

"They'd made such a cute couple, huh?"

"Yeah! I heard Y/N was head cheerleader in high school. Doyle used to be a quarterback. It's literally like fanfiction."

"Yeah. Jihoon, though ... I don't think that'd work. He's too fucking awkward."

"A bit of a weirdo too. She's out of his league."

And then he was out of earshot.

He found Soonyoung sitting by some table near the entrance quick enough, he thanked god for that. He needed to at least not be alone right now.

"Dude! What are you doing here? What happened to your girl?", Soonyoung was quick to question.

Jihoon shrugged, taking a seat dejectedly.

"Oh, shit, man. I'm sorry," Soonyoung caught on, patting Jihoon on the back, "What happened?"

Jihoon simply gestured north of him, directing Soonyoung's eyes to the dancefloor you were currently at. You'd quickly warmed up to the mood, a smile gracing your face as you danced along with a few of the girls from the office. The silver lining was that you weren't actually dancing with Doyle as originally intended, but rather dancing near him. Still, Jihoon could see Doyle occasionally make his way to you and try to subtly get you to dance with him.

"Fuck. It's that asshole Doyle, huh? I'm sorry, man."

"What happened?", Mingyu suddenly showed up, sweaty and out of breath.

"That dick Doyle took Hoonie's girl," this was met with a frown and an expletive from Mingyu.

"She's not my girl. She's not my anything," Jihoon grumbled, "I think I'll just go home."

Getting up, he was stopped by Mingyu, pleading he stay and have fun. Similar complaints were given by Soonyoung. But neither were enough for Jihoon to want to stay. He'd been an idiot and done nothing to even try and match your energy. It was no wonder you left at the first chance you had.

"I only came to hang out with her," Jihoon sighed sadly, "I'll just see you guys next weekend, okay? Have fun without me."

He hugged each goodbye, disregarding their pouts and heading out. He didn't bother looking back, not wanting to sadden himself even more.

"You're lying to me."

Both Mingyu and Soonyoung stared at Jihoon like puppies awaiting a treat. Their metaphorical tails were practically wagging. It was unnerving. Especially because of the subject at hand.

Jihoon had decided to take the Monday off. He'd decided to grovel over what happened. After what happened last night, he felt like a complete loser facing you at work. Like an idiot, he'd let his feelings get all muddled and made himself believe that maybe you had some interest in him. Only to immediately fuck things up and leave you alone with the guy who was his literal antithesis. Not only that, but he'd left you there without even saying goodbye despite having agreed to be there for the sole reason of being with you.

After four o'clock, Jihoon should've known that his two nosey friends would come find him. It was rare for Jihoon to miss work, so their sudden knocking a few hours after clocking out was predictable.

However, they'd been the ones to shock Jihoon. They had shit-eating grins when he'd let them in. They'd managed to sit through a quick lunch prepared by Jihoon before spilling what had them in such an annoying mood.

"Dude, she came looking for you after you left," had said Mingyu.

"She looked sad as fuck when we told her you left! Then today when you didn't show up to work, she-" then Soonyoung was interrupted by an overexcited Mingyu.

"She asked us for your address, dude! Came all the way to accounting all shy and shit and asked if we thought it'd be okay if you stopped by," Mingyu had finished.

Jihoon spent a few minutes in surprised silence after that. The belief that they were playing a prank on him was the most logical to him.

"Dude, we're not lying!," Soonyoung exclaimed, nudging Mingyu so he'd confirm his statement.

"Yeah, she said she'd stop by in a few hours. We had to clock out early to come warn you."

"You clocked out early cause you hate working," Jihoon rebutted."

"Okay, two things can be true at once."

"Anyways, she'll be here at any moment. So you should doll yourself up for her. I have no idea what she may want, but-"

Mingyu interrupted this time, "Are you kidding? They're gonna fuck. It's going to be a k-drama moment and then they'll seal the deal."

Soonyoung made an O face and gave Gyu a high-five. The children in front of Jihoon were beginning to drive him insane. And usually he would've scolded them, but their words were making him too anxious to think.

Suddenly, Jihoon got up, ushering them out.

"Okay, get the hell out of here. I need to be ready for her, fuck. Fuck. I should've just gone to work today, I'm such an idiot," he groaned to himself, beginning to pick up their plates so he could tidy up the place a bit.

"Dude, calm down. It'll be fine. Clearly she cares if she's coming to check up on you after just one day of you being gone," Soonyoung reasoned, "Whatever happened to a phone call anyway?"

"This is the romantic way to do it, Soon, c'mon."

Mingyu shrugged in agreement, now dragging Soonyoung along with him towards the exit. Their goodbyes were as prolonged as per usual, but Jihoon was eventually able to get them out of his apartment.

Jihoon rushed to make the place as tidy as possible, even fixing himself up as best as he could whilst also looking casual. The hardest hurdle was coming up with non-pathetic reasons as to why he'd left in such a rush last night and why he had skipped work altogether.

How was he supposed to explain that he was a sensitive, good for nothing, pathetic, loser piece of-

But there was a knock before he could even finish a single thought.

He knew who was on the other side, even if he tried to will you away by purely praying to get himself out of this situation.

"Jihoon? I know you're in there," you called out from outside, "I saw Mingyu and Soonyoung leave work early today. I assume they came over to warn you I'd be coming."

Fuck, you were too smart.

There were too many good things about you. And Jihoon would've loved nothing more than to take a few hours to think about all those things, but he had your actual presence to deal with at that moment.

With a deep breath, he walked over to the door, opening it and finding you standing on the other side of it. You were still wearing your usual office ensemble, meaning you'd come directly from work.

"Jihoon," you breathed out. There was a mixture of relief and worry in your tone.

"Uhm, come in," he moved aside to allow you in.

Naturally, the two of you moved over to the couch, rushing to the kitchen really quick to get you a drink — one he, of course, knew by memory from the months in which he'd known you.

"So, uh, what's up?", he cleared his throat.

"Jihoon," you put down the coffee cup he'd handed you, shifting your body on the couch to face him, "I'm really sorry about last night," you began, "I promised I'd stay with you and then I left when I really should've said no to Doyle and all the girls."

He wasn't fully facing you, but he could still perceive how apologetic you were. It made him feel like an asshole to be the cause of this. Why did he have to be so damn sensitive?

"It's not your fault, it's-"

You went to grab his hand from his lap, mirroring that first time you'd followed him outside back when you'd barely started working with him. Physical touch always made him anxious, but it was a good type of anxiety when it came to you.

"No, Jihoon, it is," you reaffirmed, hesitating to continue.

A sort of shy look overtook your face, drawing your eyes away from him for the first time since your arrival. You even let go of his hand, acting as if you'd been shocked you even took it in the first place. A small 'sorry' left your lips before you continued speaking.

"And I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night with all my, uh, flirting," you swallowed, "I know you don't see me that way. I guess it was just the whole, uh, vibe? that made me feel like it was okay, but I won't do it again, I promise. I want to respect your boundaries. I didn't think you'd end up skipping out of work because of me. Fuck, I feel like a terrible friend."

Jihoon could do nothing but watch in horror as you spoke.

Every word that left your lips was more wrong than the previous. You'd misunderstood everything. But then again, Jihoon had not communicated his interest at all. You had no way of knowing that he liked you or that he'd been hoping against all hope that he hadn't misinterpreted your advances.

There was one last chance presenting itself in front of Jihoon. This was his last and only chance to set things straight. To grow some balls and risk it when he told you that he reciprocated any feelings you may have had for him — and tenfold.

But he stayed quiet, gulping when you sat there with an equally horrified look on your face. It was likely due to his silence, yet his body was still frozen.

"Uhm, Jihoon, I- I don't know what else to say. I'm sorry, I-"

"Will you go out with me?"

It had been said so suddenly that Jihoon didn't even register he'd been the one to say it. He hadn't planned to say that, especially so suddenly. It was as much a shock go him as it must've been to you. Surely his face matched yours, which consisted of wide eyes and an agape mouth. The shock was entirely mutual.

"What?"

Jihoon flushed, gulping and looking at his lap. His heart was practically beating out of his chest. This was the most daring thing he'd done in years, and its effects were manifesting physically. Sweaty palms, rumbling stomach, eyes burning, he had it all.

But at least it was out there now.

"I, uhm, I wanted to know if you'd want to go out with me?," he tried again, pathetically adding a quiet 'please' afterwards.

"Jihoon, what? You like me?"

The way you asked made it sound like it was the most shocking thing you'd heard in your life. That in itself made his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

He decided to start from the beginning. And this time he was the one to grab your hand.

"I was okay with everything you did or said last night. Trust me. I was just a coward. I was especially a coward when you asked me to dance. I wanted to say yes- I should've said yes. But instead, I let that idiot take you and- and when I saw you having fun, with- with him, I just left like an idiot. I'm sorry I left just like that. It wasn't you. It was me, I swear," he rambled on a single breath, "I do, uhm, I do like you. A lot. An embarrassing amount, really," he chuckled to himself, "And if you'd still be willing, I'd, uh, I'd really like to take you out on a date."

Eye contact had never been Jihoon's forte, and much less in an instance such as this. His eyes remained on his lap, altogether avoiding even daring look in your general direction. But eventually came the time in which he had to look your way to try and gauge your reaction.

Looking up at you, he believed to see horror in your eyes. The very last thing he could've ever wanted to provoke in you.

This was it. This was yet another rejection. Another humiliation leading up to social ruin. His one and only friend in his department would seize to want any sort of relationship with him and it was all because he misread a situation yet again and acted like a socially inept idiot.

"I, I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"I didn't know you liked me," you interrupted.

"Huh?"

"God, Jihoon, I had no idea you liked me back, what? This is crazy. I thought I fucked everything up," you let out a humorless chuckle.

"What?"

Now he was confused. Now he was the one with horror in his eyes.

'Back'?

"Sorry," you chuckled, scooting closer to him, "I like you. I assumed it was obvious and that you were just having a hard time letting me down easy," and with that, you blew his mind.

Jihoon sat there, mouth agape and eyebrows scrunched together in absolute shock. Things could not have turned more different than he'd ever imagined.

Yet he still felt like he was being played. Such things had happened in his past. Fake confessions, tricks of the mind, you name it. As much as Jihoon liked you, his past experiences screamed deep within him to back away, to not fall for it.

And then you grabbed his hand again, scooting even closer. There was a look of understanding in your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you began, "I'm not lying Jihoon, I really do like you."

Before he could ask what you meant, you continued.

"I, uhm, talked to Mingyu yesterday — I asked him not to mention it to you. He told me some stuff about your childhood," you paused, waiting for the solemn nod he gave you to continue. He tensed, leading you to squeeze his hand, "I know there's been some stuff in your past. We didn't get into details, but I promise I'm being genuine. I like you. And if you really do like me back, I'd love to go on that date with you."

Jihoon hadn't processed your proximity until this moment. He'd been too focused on the possibility of this being another ruse, another way to break him down just because of his social ineptitude. But now that his brain was working again, it immediately malfunctioned once more as he realized what was happening.

Not only had you admitted your own feelings and accepted his invitation, but you were far too close for anything other than a kiss to occur. If your proximity didn't give it away, your eyes did. Zeroed in on his lips, they occasionally made their way back to his eyes as if asking for silent permission.

And for once in his life, Jihoon was daring. Jihoon took the first step without fear of fucking things up.

As pathetic as it'd be to admit out loud, the very first touch of your lips was life-changing for Jihoon. There'd been one or two kisses in his life, all filled with instant embarrassment or simply being nothing to write home about.

Yet this kiss was devastating. It was a testament to everything he'd ever fantasized about yet convinced himself he'd never have. It was soft and barely there at first, but the quiet sound you let against his lips was all he needed to lose his mind.

Before he could pull away, shy, bashful, you pulled him back in, opening your lips and welcoming him to do the same.

Your tongues met in the middle before Jihoon completely surrendered to you. He didn't even try to put up a fight. It was unnecessary. All he wanted was your kiss, to fall victim to anything you wanted to take and give him.

A shaky breath was let out into your lips. It felt as if his body was vibrating. The immense nerves he usually felt in social situations and all their physical symptoms were present, but it was all too different than usual. They were accompanied by a burning in his stomach.

Jihoon knew this to be arousal. Frankly, it was a pathetic realization — to feel such things with a simple kiss. But it wasn't any kiss. It was you. It was your tongue in his mouth, your hands making their way to his hair, your soft sounds muffled with his own.

"N-no, not yet. Please," he found himself pleading when you pulled away to breathe.

And he almost cried when you moaned at his pleading before trapping him in another kiss, just as heavy as the last.

Jihoon was in over his head. He could barely follow along. Could barely please you with his own lips. He was defeated by you, too high on lust to be a worthy opponent. And god, he couldn't even let himself begin to think about what was going on in his pants at that moment.

"Jihoon," you breathed.

You'd learned your lesson from last time, it seemed. Instead of attempting to pull away, you licked at his lips, keeping a nonexistent distance between you.

"What do you want?", you asked, "What do you want from me? I'll give you anything you ask for."

His mind couldn't wrap itself around that statement. He wanted everything. His body was burning and his mind was reeling. Never in his life had he come close to feeling like this.

It had been many years since he'd settled for his life. No more hopes or dreams for love, for anything grander out of life. The concept of physical touch or any sort of pleasure had left the picture quickly into college. All he'd ever known had been senseless fantasies of what could be but would never be.

Yet now he sat here, prettiest girl he'd ever seen looking into his eyes — eyes heavy with lust that made him have to use all his strength to not cry and moan and whine at the effect he seemingly had on you. Did you like stupid losers with nothing to offer? Because he was the perfect candidate.

And his eyes dropped to your lips again, almost as if there was some sort of pull towards you that he could not control. Even while knowing all other forms of pleasure he could beg for, he needed to kiss you again.

"Nghn, I- Kiss, I wanna kiss you. Please? I wanna-"

His begging didn't last long, soon interrupted by something he could barely call a kiss. It was wet and messy, teeth clanking and tongues suckling at each other. Sounds of pleasure shamelessly left both your lips and your bodies got closer to one another.

The next thing to blow his mind was your body, which soon made its way to straddle his own. From this angle, you were slightly above him, now ensuring you had all the control — though that was met with no complaints from him.

His usually shy hands were forced onto your hips by your own before yours went back to running through his hair. They were liberal, your hands, in exploring him. When your lips trailed down to his neck, exploring and quickly finding his weakest spots, your hands went to his shirt, reaching under it and exploring the bare skin underneath.

"I want you, Jihoon. Do you want me too?," you whispered into his ear, teeth softly pulling at the lobe.

Jihoon couldn't think, couldn't breathe. His mind was a chorus of yesyesyes, too broken to actually respond.

"Want you, p-please. Anything ... You can do anything, just-"

Everything cut off then. Your touch, your lips on his skin, your weight on his lap.

But it was replaced by you pulling him towards the door leading into his bedroom, quickly assessing the room before pushing him onto the bed.

He was pliable under your touch. He'd be a boneless doll if necessary. Anything you wanted was yours — Jihoon was yours.

The empty weight of his lap only lasted a few seconds before you filled it back up, hands once again finding his shoulders. He felt shy under your gaze, especially knowing you could probably feel the hardness beneath you.

"I've never ... I know it's probably obvious, but I, uhm ..."

"That's okay, Jihoonie," your hand went to his cheek, soft in caressing it, "We don't have to do anyth-"

"No!", he suddenly interrupted. He became bashful when he realized how sudden and loud he'd been, "I mean, uhm, I want to. I really want to. Please."

You sighed, "So polite, Jihoonie. Bet you're going to be so good to me, aren't you?", you said almost to yourself.

Jihoon swore his dick twitched at your words. There was nothing in this world he wanted more than to be good for you. He needed you to tell him how nice and how good he was. Nothing would ever compare to being the giver of your pleasure.

He nodded numbly, mouth agape as you leaned down.

But instead of kissing him as he'd expected, the hand on his cheek shifted. Your thumb graced at his bottom lip as you watched intently. Jihoon's body reacted on its own. He needed no direction to open his mouth the tiny bit necessary to let your thumb in, suckling softly without needles any further direction from you.

This caused you to groan, which in turn made him moan. He'd never been one to have any sort of creative fantasies. Any time he allowed himself to think about sex, it was all pretty cut and dry, usually involving some faceless girl that he knew would never manifest herself into real life.

But now he had a girl — a girl he was completely infatuated by. And she had her thumb in his mouth, looking at him like he was the manifestation of her lust.

Jihoon didn't know what to do with you. You were too much for him to deal with, too much for him to function properly. He'd never imagined himself having to will himself into not cumming due to a pretty girl's thumb in his mouth, but in this moment there was nowhere else he would've preferred be.

And then you pulled your thumb away, earning yourself an embarrassing whine from him. He almost had it in him to complain, to whine and ask for you to give it back. He wanted to provide, to give you something back. But instead, you kissed him again, this time using your hands to unclothe him in the midst of the messy kiss.

Somehow he ended up shirtless, with his pants removed and sitting there with mere boxers while you sat atop him, still fully clothed. Yet he didn't have it in him to complain. If this day was full of you doing whatever you desired with his body, allowing him not a single touch of yours, he'd take it. He'd be willing to take anything you gave him. He'd beg if necessary.

"God, you're gorgeous. How do you not have a line waiting to get their turn with you?", there was a hint of frustration in your voice. It was as if the sight made you angry, like it made you so frustrated you couldn't hold back. Cuteness aggression but replaced with lust. Jihoon couldn't comprehend having such an effect on someone, much less you.

"I, uhm, I don't-"

He had no idea how to respond to your praise. But thankfully, you didn't give him enough time to muster out some pathetic response, instead opting to kiss him again, hands feeling up every available inch of skin.

You pushed him up on the bed, silently encouraging him to scoot up so he could lay down with your body still straddling his own. This felt more intimate. Jihoon knew where it was leading, he'd imagined being in this position once or twice, but never pictured it'd be anything like this.

"Is this okay?", you asked once your hands went to his chest, softly tracing shapes in it in a way Jihoon wasn't sure was supposed to be teasing or if he was just so touch-starved that it felt euphoric to him.

"Yeah, I, oh, fuck, yes, just ..."

He found his answer when your hands went to his nipples, circling them softly before pinching and pulling at them with your fingers, shutting him up before he could even make out a single sentence. It only became worse when you lowered your head, mouth meeting one nipple while the other remained engaged by your hand.

Sensitivity on his chest was not something he was aware of. There were likely countless things he was into but had never managed to explore. But Jihoon decided in that moment that what he was into was you. Every touch, every kiss, every look, every word. He held onto every single one and sighed into them, losing himself in the process and- fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

Any further exploration of his mind halted at that moment. The moment in which your hips joined in on the fun. They ground against his own shyly at first, testing the waters. His hands gripped at your hips helplessly, almost as if attempting to hold onto his remaining sanity.

The worst part was when you reacted to it. Enjoying the feeling that first rock of your hips gave you, you continued, whining into his mouth as your hips sped up. Your hands gripped at his shoulders, though they occasionally felt up at his arms and chest, clawing at the muscle there and ensuring to leave your mark.

Jihoon was on fire. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. All he could do was pathetically whine into your lips, silently begging for you to never stop, for you to make him forget himself.

"Please, oh fuck, pl-please don't stop. It's so- good, oh ..."

"God, keep talking like that," you groaned.

Fuck. Of course you liked him pathetic and whiny. Of course you were turned on by it. It created a never ending cycle of you doing whatever you wanted to him and him crying like a needy loser, only causing you to double down. It was heaven and hell. Jihoon's body was in overdrive.

"You're gonna make me cum, you- fuck, don't stop, I need- shit, please."

His voice was unrecognizable now. Jihoon didn't know which dimension he was in anymore.

Until it all halted.

Your movements ended, and the weight on his crotch left him. A pathetic whine came from his lips at this, but he was too needy to feel embarrassed.

Before he could get up and kneel, begging at your feet to continue (something which he'd truly do if he wasn't to embarrassed by the thought), you made your way back to him, though this time Jihoon felt an unexpected warmth on him. A warmth accompanied by sticky wetness. It took Jihoon a few seconds to realize what was sitting on him, but when it dawned on him, it destroyed him.

Daring to open his eyes and look up at you, he found you flushed. Your face looked warm and your expression was far too lustful for him to handle. What caught his attention the most, though, was your sudden nudity. His brain could not process it, the sight of you in complete nudity, sitting on his cock with a single layer of his damned boxers intervening.

The sight went beyond his imagination. Goosebumps formed on every inch of his skin, and even his hardness twitched under you in a manner so pathetic it shocked even himself. The image above him would haunt him for the rest of his life, especially as he laid there unknowing of what to do with himself, of how to respond to such a sight.

And then you responded for him.

You grasped his hands, taking them away from your hips and bringing them up to your chest. Naturally, they engulfed your breasts, a groan leaving his lips at their weight in his palms.

"Like this, baby. Just touch me however you want," you encouraged with a breathy sigh.

"You're so pretty, fuck," he groaned again.

It caused you to giggle, biting your lip when his hands began to fondle you, playing with your nipples in the way you'd played with his earlier.

Your hips began moving again, though this time it was hotter, more desperate. You became frustrated with the friction quickly enough, digging into his boxers and pulling him out. Jihoon cried out at this, eyes rolling back at your hold.

After a few experimental tugs at his dick, you let go, letting it fall back against his stomach and taking a seat on it. Not putting him in yet, you began sliding against the length of it, letting your warm wetness grind against it in a manner so filthy it had Jihoon's head throwing back into the mattress.

"God, I wanna fuck you so bad," you groaned, "You'll feel so good, I already know it."

It was like you wanted to kill him. But Jihoon knew it was the mindless lust speaking. Which only made it all the worse for him. His incidental effect on you drove him crazy.

"Please, I- I want it," he cried.

But you decided to kill him some more.

"How bad?", you whispered into his ear, movements not halting.

If you wanted him to beg, to become a pathetic whiny mess as he pleaded for a single touch, he would. He had no pride when it came to you.

"So bad, you ... you don't understand. I need it. I need to feel it so badly."

But god, you were so mean. So terribly mean and wicked to him. Simple begging would not do, Jihoon realized. You wanted more.

"Need to feel what?", your hips sped up, the friction half-killing Jihoon.

"Your ... your, fuck," he gulped, "Your pussy. Please."

You moaned and then giggled, separating your cunt from his dick in order to create some distance. Sneaking between your bodies, your hand grabbed onto his hardness, sitting yourself up on your knees so you could align him to your cunt.

His tip was at your cunt, forced to circle at it by your hand as you teased both yourself and him. The warmth begging to wrap around his head made him delirious. Nothing had ever felt as good. There was no comparable experience.

"N-no condom?", he willed himself to ask.

"I'm on birth control. So if it's okay with you ...", you trailed off, chuckling when he nodded desperately at you.

You continued to tease yourself with his dick, gasping at the feeling of his tip against your clit as he twitched in your hand. The teasing was killing him, though it was too pleasurable for him to beg for anything else.

"God, Jihoon, I can already tell you're gonna feel so good, baby," you practically whined, "I'm gonna fuck you so good, angel. Just you wait."

And then your welcomed him in. In a slow descent, you lowered yourself on him, crying out his name once he was finally bottomed out.

Under you, Jihoon lost his soul. It was too warm, too wet, too perfect for him to react. His brain clocked out for the day, leaving him a hollow body meant for nothing but receiving pleasure. That orgasmic feeling of, well, an orgasm, was approaching far too quickly. Jihoon could feel his body contract on itself, insisting at him to let go, to give himself up to you.

But he persisted. The sight above him — the pretty girl with her eyes rolled back and her arched back causing her to press up impossibly close against him — had his body begging for just a few more moments to enjoy the endless pleasure you were currently giving him.

"'m gonna move now, okay, baby? Feel so good already, shit. So full," you sighed.

Your hands settled on his chest, palms pressed against it as you began to bounce. Sometimes you'd bounce, sometimes you'd grind. It was all too deliriously good for Jihoon to realize the exact science behind it.

If everything that came before had led him to this moment, he'd happily go through it all again. Nothing in his life could compare to this, to the intimacy, the closeness he felt to you at this moment. He had to do nothing but cry tears of pleasure under you, taking every bounce, ever rock of your hips, every kiss and every word of praise in his direction. If he had to go back to the lonely, hellish life he lived before just in exchange for this very moment, he'd beg for the chance.

But Jihoon didn't need to be as fatalist anymore. Not when you kept whining his name, when your eyes were crossed and your breasts were bouncing above him in a demonstration of your incessant need for him.

"Baby, give ... give me your hand," you suddenly moaned. Your hips sped up, clearly driving yourself to your orgasm and surely dragging him along with you.

He followed your instruction, just as his brain had been programed. He gave you his hand, groaning when you placed it at your cunt, silently instructing for his knuckle to bend and dig at your clit. You tightened impossibly harder at that and fuck, it was too good. It was too tight, too wet, too filthy as your moans heightened in pitch.

And Jihoon truly wanted to warn you. He wanted to tell you and come right alongside you, but his poor virginal body could only take so much before breaking. It was an impossible task to hold back and await for your own pleasure to join his. But god was it mind-blowing.

He'd orgasmed before. Alone, cold in his room, feeling pathetic due to his lack of possibility at romance, knowing he'd never find a girl to look at him with anything but apathy. Yet here you were, whispering filthy words into his ear, encouraging his orgasm with a hint of mischief in your tone as your orgasm interrupted your words.

You were evil, Jihoon realized.

Above him, you made a show of your high, providing him with a view that would surely ruin him for life. Your hands let go of his body, instead choosing to fondle with your own, putting aside your own orgasmic experience to instead destroy any last bit of sanity left in him (which truly was not much — likely in the negatives by now). Your face was one that Jihoon would tattoo in his memory, bringing back up again and again in order to finish himself off in the many lonely nights to come — he couldn't help his fatalistic way of believing this might be a one and only type of situation.

It felt endless, so endless that the pleasure was almost painful. But Jihoon could still categorically asses this as one of the best experiences of his long years on this earth.

The low after the high was still blissful. Jihoon had heard of 'post-nut' clarity, with it being sold as a negative after such a high. Yet Jihoon felt nothing but bliss as you disconnected from him and dropped to lay at his side, wordless as you intertwined your bodies and stole body heat from him (which, really, he was more than happy to give).

Jihoon was unsure of what to say, but the smile you gave him said enough for the two of you. It was a silent exchange of affection that Jihoon never thought he'd be on the receiving end of.

"Maybe skipping work today was a good idea," you joked after some silence.

His eyebrows lifted. Understatement of the year.

You laughed and nuzzled further. He must've said it out loud. Well, the effect was nice, so he had no complaints.

"We're going to have to visit HR first thing tomorrow morning," you groaned into his chest, seemingly unable to help yourself in pressing kisses there. Jihoon felt too loved.

"Hmm?"

But he was still half-dead.

"I'll wanna jump you as soon as I see you tomorrow morning. I won't be able to be discreet," you joked.

"You wanna, uhm, be official?", he risked in asking.

He wanted to slap himself. You'd given no indication of changing your mind about him. This fatalism was something he really needed to work on.

"Yes, you idiot. God, Jihoon. We're going to have to work on this," you agreed without realizing.

It was quiet after that. It was the same quiet Jihoon had grown used to in his solitary life, except it had morphed into a silence he could see himself becoming fond of. Your breath against his chest was all he could hear, and it was the one and only sound he desired from now on.

The following morning, you awoke before him, loving on him without question, wordlessly showing him how easy it was for you to want him, to love him. It was new, but for once, it didn't scare Jihoon. For once, he could see himself giving into something good without fear.

to read short 2.3k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: office romance, semi-public sex, afab reader, smut, oral (m receiving), etc.

wc: 202 (teaser); 2340 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Hmm, we have to, hmph-"

That was as far as Jihoon had been able to get all morning before yet another rude interruption from you.

Well, calling it rude would be going too far.

In reality, Jihoon was very welcoming of every single interruption. Especially since each one consisted of your lips on his, with the occasional involving your tongue down his throat.

You'd woken up early, awakening him with soft caresses and kisses to his bare chest. It was a first for him. Everything was a first, really.

He'd been defiled for the first time last night, having the girl of his dreams suddenly showing up to his apartment to fix up a miscommunication (entirely caused by him) and turning his world upside down by confessing to a crush he'd believed completely unlikely.

The details made Jihoon too flustered to really think about, but at least he'd allow himself to enjoy the aftermath of it all.

But sadly, he had to try and interrupt you again. It was nearing the time to go to work, and as happy as he was with you, he knew things at work would likely have to change due to the sudden development of your relationship.

...

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[bunny-jpeg]

sinful sentence (five)

lando norris - "you're so very tempting..."

tags: smut/pwp, friends-with-benefits (with feelings), simp!lando, sanrio plushies, possessive behavior, jealousy & manipulation, safe sex

the sinful sentences catalogue

this was not according to plan. this was supposed to be fun. you should be honoured really, lando never liked tapping the same girl twice. let alone three, four, five, seven times. he had lost count the amount of times he had fucked you into the mattress of his bed. watched you reach climax in the sea of soft pillows, your heavy pants into the light grey pillowcases as your back arched with a primal want.

but what started out as a means to an end. had become something a little more intense. it was like lighting matches in a gas station, the inferno was bound to happen. and it all started over a fucking stuffed animal.

"liam got you this?" he asked as he plucked it off of your bed, "are you fucking him?" he tried to keep the jealousy at bay.

"no!" you said as you crossed your arms and looked at him, "you know people give gifts to each other and not just when they're apologizing for something." you had a vast collection of luxury items from lando because he fucked up. you didn't know why he was getting jealous of liam.

lando looked at the stuffed animal, it was of hello kitty or one of those little sanrio things. the marketable plushie that seemed to invade every female's bedroom like mold. lando hated the thing. he looked at it and said, "you're so very tempting... tempting to throw in the trash." and the toy was taken from his hand and you wrapped your arms around it quickly. the face of the toy was right in the valley of your breasts that were covered by your bra.

"excuse me! don't talk that way to my melody!" that was the name of it, "be nice to her!"

lando made a face, "i would be nice to her, if she wasn't given to you by that fucker." he got into bed with you. he got his hands on either side of you and leaned you further back into the bed, "i don't like him touching what is min."

you frowned, "we're just friends, lando. you didn't want commitment, remember?" lando's biggest failure. it wasn't on the track, but rather not pinning you down. he said he was casual and he had regretted it every day since.

"well, unless you wanna be used by drivers until your worn out like a tire, i suggest you limit your driver fucking to one." to him. and you shoved him before you laid back in bed. the toy discarded to the other side of the bed.

"i didn't think you were capable of being so fucking possessive." you said before you pulled him by the front of his t-shirt. you sealed your lips against his and he started to get his joggers off. his stupid fucking words excited you sexually. and while it was all casual, it was nice to see him get so wound up over you.

you knew he was a sucker for you, and you flirted with that idea. liam didn't get you the stuffed animal, you bought it yourself at the drug store and lied to lando about it. to watch the british driver bite his words because some rookie is trying to get in his territory. it was cute in its patheticness. his clothes came off along with your undergarments.

you watched lando angrily grab one of the condoms out of the box on the nightstand and get it on before his situations himself between your legs. his handsome eyes bore into your heated flesh like he was trying to make holes in your skin. only he got to see you like this, under him and sexually needy.

when he sank into you, he cursed under his breath. you fit like a vice and even with the condom on, he could still feel the heat of your pussy. this was why he didn't want liam lawson to be sniffing around what it is. yeah, it was casual, but that didn't mean lando had to share. call him a selfish prick for that, he didn't care. you were his, and no rookie was going to take that from him.

especially when he leaned forward and started to move against you. he maintained eye contact as he thrusted against you. he held onto the covers under you as used the surface as leverage to work his cock inside of you. the bed creaked under the movements and the slick sounds of fucking filled the air paired with your heated noises.

"shit, that's it. that feels good." lando licked his lips and made eye contact with the stuffed toy near the wall. its plastic eyes watched lando ruin your cunt. stuff it full of him. he knew it was stupid, but he grinned wickedly at the toy as he continued to move against you.

he wished he could take photos of what he was doing to you right at that moment. show liam exactly how to pleasure a woman of your caliber. lando was certain that liam wouldn't even make you cum, that you'd have to fake an orgasm. but you've never faked with lando, he knew it. because he knew your body like he knew his. how to hit at just the right spots to make you see stars.

this casual affair between you two was heated to its roots. lando wanted you more than just sexually. but no amount of luxury he could give you was enough. you weren't easily swayed by material goods. as you once told him, "i'm not a crow, no need to distract me with shiny objects." but lando knew he was going mad every time he saw you with someone else.

you sated every need in his body, why couldn't you simply be his? why did you have to keep so close to the terms of being casual. lando needed you and he didn't need someone else trying to worm their way into your life. he couldn't allow it, he wouldn't allow it.

"look at you, under me. don't need plushies when you got me. you hated gifts, what made lawson so special."

you pushed your luck as you replied, "because he's actually a gentleman. not a panting dog looking to get his dick sucked every hour of every day. he at least knows how to treat a woman." it was all utter bullshit, but you felt lando's pace stagger for a moment from your words.

"bigger than me, princess?" he panted heavily, "does it stretch you out the way i do? leave you a mess? i know you talk big game about wanting a gentleman. so i need to know, is he bigger?"

you reached out and held onto his shoulders tightly, "no." then pulled him in for another kiss. you moaned into the kiss and tightened your thighs around his waist as he fucked you with heavy strokes. the pleasure made your head throb as the he clutched onto the covers tighter.

the pleasure was intense, the movements were rough. the sexual electricity was felt between you two as the kisses got more heated. you liked when lando became a man possessed when it came to his envy. he was a slave to his jealousy when it really gripped him. his breathing were heavy pants as he continued to move against you. the pleasure was a monster inside of him as his movements continued.

when he broke the kiss, he looked down at you with a glint in his eye, "he could never fuck you like this. he could never take you the way i do. he's a pussy." he pressed into you further, his pace was brutal and it made you only hotter.

your orgasm felt close the more he fucked you. the more his heavy thrusts made your mind go blank for a split second. you held onto his shoulders tightly and let him use your pussy to his liking. taking every ounce of pleasure that he could give you. if he was jealous then you were greedy for his cock.

he was right, no one else could ever have you the way he did. no other man could bring you to climax the way he did. he had re-wired your brain sexually that other hook-ups seemed so bland. lando knew exactly how to fuck you. so it was no surprise that after another round of heated kisses, you held onto him tightly and your toes curled.

you came around his cock and he soon came in the condom. you tensed up and lurched forward from the sensation and he kept you pinned down as you both finished. then slowly he came to a stop and grabbed you by the face to kiss you once more.

lando groaned against the kiss and he rubbed his softening cock inside of you to get that extra bit of pleasure before he felt content with what he had done. when he pulled out. he got up to toss the condom and when he got into bed. he grabbed the plush and looked it in its plastic eyes.

before he could make more threats to it. you plucked it from his hands, "either your nice to it or you can make yourself comfortable on my couch tonight."

he made a face and mentally promised himself. is liam lawson thought your affection was for sale, then lando would have to double the offer and make sure that you didn't end up in that rookie's arms. <3

[harmoonix]

Astrology Observations

♡ - Cozy - ♡

you'll always find your way back home♡

♡ 4th house placements, especially Moon/Venus or Sun, know how to make someone feel comforted/safe/protected/loved. These planets can often share a common love language with the people they love

♡ 7° or 19° degrees on Chiron talks about a person who has a hard time when it comes to letting people out of their lives

♡ 4° 16° 28° on Moon or Chiron can indicate a nostalgic person. They are often lost with their memories in their past and attach too hard on them

♡ Sun in the 1st house can easily receive admiration, they can inspire people to do things, and people often look after them

♡ Moon in the 6th house attaches mentally to a person, and they hardly leave their mind. This person might worry or think too much about their lovers

♡ Mercury in the 9th house is good at changing accents or faking them. They can be really good at jobs which involve traveling, translator, eduction, blogger or architect

♡ Aries Placements won't tolerate random flirts from people they barely know. Most Aries that I know don't like when random ppl flirt with them

♡ 29° degrees on the Sun can indicate a lifetime lesson involving yourself. Can be a lesson about discovering something within yourself, loving yourself, everything is possible

♡ Moon at 9° or 21° love to share things with the people they love. These natives are not afraid to open to love. Their open-minded personality helps a lot

♡ 5° 17° or 29° degrees indicate big/large family members. Especially if these degrees are on Venus or Moon or in the 5th house

♡ Cancer Jupiter is also one of the placements that also indicates having a large family. Also siblings or a step - family

♡ Pluto or Uranus in the 2nd house can struggle with money or to keep them. You might spend them too fast and ending up regretting later

♡ your 2nd house can also tell you how much you value yourself. If water is present, you can be more chill. If it is earth, you can feel more grounded

♡ 6° or 18° degrees on ascendant/sun/MC can indicate others tend to perceive as a perfectionist, while in real life, you struggle to fit in the norm

♡ 12th house Sun can indicate a person who needs to find spirituality as a healing key, same for those with the sun at 12° 24°. There are many ways to heal/feel better with usiny spirituality

♡ Venus in the 12th house can have the same effect in relationships like Saturn in the 7th house = Less partners and more relationships in your adult/mature years

♡ Your 5th house sign and its ruler can indicate your hobbies. Nothing is randomly here, and these hobbies can help you to reach a purpose

♡ Aries and Taurus Placements are being tested on their patience. You play with their nerves, and they explode. They hateee waiting and like to do things fast

♡ You might feel like things are falling apart when you're having Saturn or Pluto transit your 1st house, struggle timeeeee

♡ Moon transit your 3rd house can be a time where you'll find yourself talking and socializing more

♡ Mars transit the 11th house can be time where you can fight more often with your friends and relatives

♡ Saturn transit your 6th house is a good time to reflect and heal mentally. You can be exhausted, so take a break!

♡ Saturn in the 1st house can struggle with their appearance. Sometimes they don't like themselves which is perfectly normal, but never hate yourself!

♡ Lowkey Saturn or Pluto, same with Capricorn/Aquarius/Scorpio in the 12th house, can be depressive af. Especially mentally depressive

♡ Taurus tends to be lazy, especially if Venus/Moon are involved. 'I will do that later' and will end up never doing it or forgetting about it

♡ Virgo Moons are getting overwhelmed in crowded areas,they may avoid large groups or people. Usually, they have few special people close to them

♡ 0° degrees on Saturn can indicate being born without a karmic lesson, and you'll create one in this lifetime.

♡ Sun aspecting Mars natives likes to create tension between people, sometimes they will make people fight due to Mars being a planet of war and interacting with Sun

♡ 2nd or 4th house placements can be goof st gifting/generous people, sometimes they may like to spoil people with gifts or simply spoiling themselves

♡ Sagittarius/Scorpio/Leo and Aries placements can like salty foods more than sweets. This is something I observed in a lot of people with these placements

♡ Sun in the 7th house can attract selfish people in their lives. Especially enemies with a narcissistic energy

♡ Mars in the 5th house can get obsessed with a certain hobby/activity and then being competitive with others about it

Hope you have it good!! 🧡🧡🧡 Take care of yourself and stay healthy 🧡

Harmoonix 🧡

[goldsainz]

# HARRY STYLES — A COZY BIRTHDAY !

MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ you decide to organise a cozy affair in italy for harry’s birthday.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ harry and reader are married.

003. NOTE !

✯ the last fic i wrote for him was 13/02/2023 which is crazyyyy! time flies by so so fast. this is short but i hope you guys like it (idk if i’ll write more for harry, but for now, have this) 🫶

word count : 579

The Italian countryside lay quiet beneath a pale winter sky, the crisp February air nipping at your skin as you stood by the kitchen window, watching the rolling hills dusted with frost. A fire crackled in the grand stone fireplace, filling the villa with its golden warmth, and the scent of fresh espresso mingled with cinnamon from the pastries you’d just set on the table.

Today was Harry’s 31st birthday.

You wanted the day to feel cozy, intimate—the kind of warmth that had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with love.

A sleepy shuffle of bare feet across the wooden floors made you smile before a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist.

“G’mornin’, love,” Harry murmured, his voice thick with sleep as he nuzzled into your neck. He was warm against you, fresh from the blankets, his curls still messy from sleep.

You turned in his arms, smiling up at him. “Happy birthday, my love.”

His dimples appeared instantly, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Mmm, best birthday already.”

You rolled your eyes. “You say that every year.”

“Cause it’s always true,” he murmured before pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, his hands sliding down your back. You melted into him, savoring the quiet of the morning.

A gust of wind rattled the windows, making Harry shiver slightly despite the warmth of the villa. He pouted at you. “S’cold, babe.”

You giggled. “That’s why I made coffee.”

He let you go long enough to wrap himself in the thick knit cardigan draped over a chair, one of your favourites on him. Then he followed you to the breakfast table, where a steaming mug of espresso and a plate of warm pastries waited.

“You cooked?” he teased, eyes twinkling.

You gave him a playful nudge. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

He hummed as he took a bite of the cinnamon roll. “Marry me.”

You laughed. “We’re already married.”

“Marry me again, then.”

The silver band on your finger caught the flickering firelight as you reached for his hand. “I’d marry you a hundred times over.”

His gaze softened, and he squeezed your fingers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The day passed in cozy bliss. You stayed wrapped in blankets on the couch, sipping hot cocoa while watching old movies. At one point, Harry pulled you onto his lap, burying his face in your sweater and mumbling something about how he was never moving from this spot.

But when evening fell, you led him outside. The stone terrace had been transformed—fairy lights twinkled under the pergola, and a small fire pit crackled beside a table set for two. The winter air was sharp, but the warmth of the fire and the thick blankets draped over the chairs made it feel just right.

Harry let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “You really are incredible.”

You grinned. “I know,”

Dinner was filled with laughter, his hand never straying far from yours. When the night deepened, you found yourselves curled up on the outdoor sofa, wrapped in the same oversized blanket.

Harry pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “Best birthday ever.”

“Told you I’d spoil you.” You smiled against his chest. 

He tilted your chin up, eyes flickering with something warm and golden. “You always do.”

And as the winter wind whispered through the trees, you knew that no matter the season, no matter the years that passed, every birthday would be yours to share—forever.

[revelboo]

REEVVEEELLLL

That Rumble fic DESTROYED ME. If you can or want to I NEED a part 2.

Bringing that sucker home and trying to sexily help take off his 'costume' but we find out 'HOLY MOTHER OF FUCK THATS A REAL ROBOT'

Thank you dear author xoxo

Hi! Rumble’s fic is an ongoing storyline. I’m just trying to go back and create proper first chapters for some of my fics

Alcohol Eyes Pt 10

Rumble x Reader, Frenzy x Reader

• Loading up plastic totes with clothes, food, anything you might even possibly need and a lot of crap you probably don’t, because what do you even pack to move in with your two alien boyfriends who as far as you can tell are hiding from the government? And they’re both adding stuff to the totes every time you’re not watching them. You’ve already had to remove the manual for your fridge, a TV remote, and a stuffed tiger that had somehow escaped the purge of anything your ex had given you. That had been a fun little bonfire. “What do we say again?” Frenzy asks as he lifts one tote and Rumble grabs the other.

• “We’re filming a TikTok video and you’re cosplayers. Not aliens,” you say with a little frown as you look around your home. And Rumble really hopes you’re not having second thoughts about agreeing to go with them. “I think that’s it.” Turning, you flash him that same mischievous little smile you’d given him in the club right before you’d pulled him down for a kiss. The one that goes straight to his spike. How far out is Thundercracker? They might have time for a quickie. But you’re opening the door and he groans and dutifully follows you outside instead of bending you over the kitchen counter. Figures the Seeker probably wouldn’t appreciate them fragging in his interior, either. “Your guy is meeting us in the park?”

• Their guy had been annoyed that they’d commed him, words clipped and angry. Trying to blow them off with an ‘I’m busy,’ before finally relenting. Shifting the box in his hands, Frenzy follows you in Rumble. They’re going to owe the Seeker for this, but it’s at least delaying the inevitable. Explaining to the boss that they’re keeping you. And that they need their own habsuite now. “Said he would. He’s usually good for his word,” he says. Grinning widely at an elderly human walking a tiny little dog that yaps at them as disapproving as its owner. Primus, that human must be thousands of years old, skin sagging and bunching, hair gray and fluffy. Hears your cheerful excuse the old lady didn’t even ask for as the woman hurries her little dog away.

• Cutting across the street and through the woods to get to the park and avoid running into anyone else, you tug your coat closer around yourself. You’d dressed a bit nicer than normal since you’re kind of like a human-alien dignitary. Though, dignitaries probably aren’t supposed to be fucking the other diplomats. Or maybe that’s normal. Furthering human-alien relations one orgy at a time. You’re like an explorer discovering uncharted territory. And you stop short. “Is that a fucking jet?” Just in the middle of the woods?

• “Meet Thundercracker,” Rumble mutters as the Seeker transforms and kneels to stare at them in dismay. Aware of how much sleeker and powerful the Seeker looks compared to them. ‘You didn’t say anything about a human. Why is there a human?’ The Seeker growls and Rumble shifts the box to one hand and hooks an arm around you. “This is our mate.” And the Seeker vents, servos lifting to press to his helm when you wiggle your fingers at him before curling into Rumble’s side, attention firmly on him instead of Thundercracker and that little flicker of jealousy fades. ‘Why not,’ Thundercracker groans, reaching for the totes to subspace them. ‘Soundwave has no idea, does he?’

Previous

[starshinedreamer]

Alrighty y'all, grab a chair and get comfy whilst I yap about my son, my pride and joy, the greatest thing to ever happen to me, my D&D OC: Raymond Foxwood. He is a Wood Elf Druid with the Researcher background and a Neutral-Good alignment (Images at the very end).

I haven't figured out what his voice sounds like yet. I'm thinking he may kind of have an accent? But like it's barely there. I do have an idea for a possible Japanese voice claim: Souta from the movie Suzume.

His best friend? I guess it would be my friend's D&D character. Her name is Topaz and she is a Dragonborne. Not besties, but pretty close.

Ooooooo boy, I got a whole playlist my friend and I have been cooking up for this sad little fella. Here's a couple of them that I think describes him best:

-"The Moss" by Cosmo Sheldrake

-"Rom-Com Gone Wrong" by Matt Maltese

-"When She Loved Me" by Sarah McLachlan

-"Home" by Cavetown

-"Valentine" by Laufey

-"Love Like You" by Rebecca Sugar

He's like, dealing with a heavy breakup until "Valentine" when he meets his current partner :)

4. "I do Adore" by Mindy Gledhill

5. Nope! But I actually thought about it when I was first creating his character just to see how he would act with other dynamics.

6. A scientist. More specifically, an ecologist. He loves nature and learning about all there is to know about life and the world. He also likes finding ways to help others, so maybe even a pharmacologist?

8. Writing, researching, reading, gardening, and making little insect and animal models because he is a NERD™ /lh<3

9. He generally takes good care of his physical health. Although, his flaw is "Most people scream when they see a demon. I stop and take notes on its anatomy," soooo. "For science" he says. "It's for the greater good" he says.

10. Well he's trying his best. But sometimes anxiety just surprises you and all of the sudden you're spiraling and things seem much worse than they are and pfffft whaddya meeeeaaaan I'm sorta self projecting? But he is the kind of person who feels bad about asking for help and then sort of holds it all in.

11. Inspirations were taken Link from The Legend of Zelda series (mainly BOTW) and Howl from Howl's Moving Castle for his design. Everything else was based purely on my own self indulgences for a nerdy elf character (and the songs my friend keeps sending my for him).

12. Same response as question 2 :)

13. No not really, but he is fighting against an organization that keeps threatening and trying to burn down the library he works/lives in with the librarian: Amanita (Ama, Anita, or Nita for short). Amanita is the person who raised and took care of Raymond after his family died in a fire. A fire caused by the same organization who's trying to harm them now. This is his main reason for joining a campaign; to get stronger and protect his loved ones.

14. This one flippin poison dragon we fought. Or maybe that's just me because I really didn't want to let them leave alive. I don't think Raymond necessarily hates anyone.

15. That all honestly depends on how the rest this campaign will play out. My friend has told me that they all did die a couple times, and we almost died to the STINKIN DRAGON but that's not important right now. But L O R E wise, he'd probably still do his researcher stuff until he's really old. Then he'll write books and share his stories :)

16. If they were alive, then I could see him having a great relationship with his parents since they were also big nerds like him. His relationship with Amanita is also great, and he really wants to protect her since she has done so much for him.

17. YESSSSSS! He loves sharing his knowledge with others and would do such a great job teaching kids. Ohhhh this is such a good one, yes he would feel bad if he had to leave them.

18. He/Him :>

19. Biromantic Asexual. His love language in giving is Acts of Service, and Quality Time for both giving and receiving.

20. A longbow and rocks. He has a cantrip spell called "Magic Stone" which lets me make a ranged attack by throwing small pebbles or stones. I like to call this spell the "RAYMOND, STONE 'EM" spell because its funnnnyyyy.

21. hmmmmmmmmmm Actually, I'm not sure! I guess maybe "Nothing You Can Take From Me" from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.

22. Will generally go for the non-violent option (more of a lover), but if initiatives are rolling, he'll fight.

23. Extremely. He'll show up with a new tire to fix the flat one, and an extra one for any future situations.

24. Undecided

25. Not singing out loud, but he would definitely hum to himself! :)

26. Irises, forget-me-nots, and bluebells

27. Symbolism wise, a deer. 'Just because' wise, a rabbit, a fox, and a kitty cat :3

28. The Nerds™ (found at the end of this post:) ).

29. Cozy stuff, lo-fi, books, plants, leather notebooks, and an overall sort of cottage core mixed with academia aesthetic. (Mood Board made in Canva :>)

30. Accepts this as their new life(yippee!). They have now been adopted. Will try to find a way to bring up their interests in conversations.

Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

3) What song describes your OC?

4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?

8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?

17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?

19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?

20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?

21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?

22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?

24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?

25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?

26) What flower do you associate your OC with?

27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?

28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)

[jd-loves-fiction]

Coming back to you with another request cuz I loved your previous work

Boothill, Welt, Ratio, Jing Yuan and Gallagher with the same platonic teen reader premise but reader calls them ,,Dad" on accident and they themselves don't even notice it because it comes so naturally to them

🌑so glad you liked it🥺🥺also the dad's of all time yes yes!! Also my internet has been fucked lately that's why uploads are slow sowy 🥺

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

If you look at his lore, he was actually a dad (😭 my Shayla) so yeah big chance he won't notice at all

Because of the trauma associated with his family in general, he'll notice it eventually and be a bit conflicted

On one hand, he's absolutely delighted at the fact that despite being almost entirely made of metal, you are still able to find such fundamentally human comfort within him

And on the other hand, he has a hard time accepting that the man he was before didn't actually die along with most of his body

He won't ever correct you tho, at the end of the day he's just grateful that he's still able to make young folk feel safe around him

Reminds him that he's still human🥺

✦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭 ✦

Did you see the way he basically adopted Sunday the moment he stepped on the express?? Yeah, that's dad right there

He basically adopts every kid (as in, anyone younger than him) that steps aboard the express, so i feel like someone else might've already called him before and he just brushed it off

Same with you, though in his heart he's over the moon

All he wants in life is to make everyone around him feel safe and loved, so to know that you of all people seem to think of him in such a way really warms his heart

Though he'll never point it out in fear of making you embarrassed

He's overjoyed!! But internally :)

✦ 𝐃𝐫. 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨 ✦

Truly baffled, at first

He's aware of his reputation and he doesn't mind it but he never expected someone to him that way

Though he's (not so) secretly very pleased

At his core, he's a teacher and that's what he loves to do - spread knowledge to all who seek it

And I'm sorry for reminding you of this but most of us have called our teacher mom/dad before so...

There's a slight chance it's happened before... also a slight chance he very dryly corrected them - "last time i checked i have no children" 🙄

Might do the same to you unless he's in one of his moods, writing down information or just lost in thought - then he'll probably just wave you away wordlessly

I feel like he understands on a behavioral level why you did it and because of it, wont comment on it or bring it up again. It's just something people do sometimes, nothing weird about it

The most neutral out of all of them but will make a mental note about how it probably means you trust him at least a little

When he lets himself be selfish and overthink it, it does warm his heart but you'll never know

✦ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧 ✦

Actual father to Yanqing YOU CANT CHANGE MY MIND!!

Ooooh he's tearing his hair out trying not to tease you about it

He knows that if he does you'll crawl back in your shell again and thats tHEEE last thing he wants in life, really

It's easy to feel comfortable around him, i feel. He's just a big lazy cat - pretty independent and chill

He's good at just being there when you need him there as well as talking your ear off as a distraction - peak comfort

Definately called Jingliu 'mom' as a kid, come on

And Yanqing did the same with him

So it doesnt surprise him much since he understands its a pretty normal thing but GOOOOD he wants to acknowledge it so BAAADD

HE WANTS TO MAKE IT SILLY BUT NOOOOO 😭

He's an adult now (a very old one at that) so he understands that now is NOT the time

Will keep thinking back on it fondly tho :))

✦ 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 ✦

Oh oh my... he gives so much deadbeat dad I'm getting nostalgic IM KIDDING

Anyway, as a bartender, i feel like thats happened to him before

People say weird shit when they're drunk so it's very likely someone's called him dad before

Though that feels very different to him

When people do that when drunk it doesn't usually mean anything - he must just remind them of their father (for good or bad) so he doesn't take it too seriously

But you? Oh he's taking it seriously

Ego? Inflated to hell and back

He's being extra sweet and caring with you

Making sure you eat and rest, etc

Gotta live up to his reputation 😉

The dad who stepped up fr

Might tease you about it, but if you have an adverse reaction he'll stop immediately

Very touched that you think of him that way even subconsciously and will try to make sure he doesn't disappoint :)

[impish-baby]

Hello! Can you make a zombie reader and human yandere fic?

Platonic yandere! Survivor x zombie! Reader

"Sorry 'bout this, really.." Hank grunts as he drags the struggling man along the dirt, begs falling on deaf ears. "My kiddo has to eat, if you were a father, you'd understand."

He tried to be more humane before and shoot his catches proir to handing them over but apparently meals have to be as fresh as can be or you wouldn't eat. Picky little thing. "It won't hurt as much as you're thinking. I'll say a prayer for you."

Hank's child will forever be his first priority.

"Hey, sweetheart.." it's a relief to see them still in the same place once he gets inside, they're tied up of course, but its his job to worry. He cant help the pang in heart when they lunge as soon as they spot what's dangling in his grasp, "Hungry, huh? Dads sorry he took so long, I'll be quicker next time."

The screams don't bother him anymore, nor does the mess. He wishes he could wipe your face like he used to, but your skin is so delicate these days. No matter how gentle he is, there's always a risk of it peeling away if he tries to scrub the blood off, so he leaves it be.

"Done?" The man is unrecognizable now. You'll be full for a while. Hank unties you carefully, placing a hand on top of your head. "I gotta make my own supper, ok? Don't wander too far."

"D- Dad..Daddy.." You rarely ever speak anymore, when you do it both warms and breaks his heart. "S- Stay.."

"Stay?" He smiles faintly, "Of course, baby, you can stay with me."

It's bittersweet having you cling to his arm as he cooks on an old camping stove, but he still wouldn't trade you for the world.

[dinosaurcharcuterie]

The reason the high tops work is that the canvas and the lacing limit "wobble". If you need more support, look for a shoe with a firm/hard counter (the hard, half moon shaped bit that goes against the heel). It's like stabilizing a house's foundation instead of the listing upper floor. You can still combine this with an ankle high shoe of any kind, but if your lower legs swell, you can get a low sneaker or even ballet flats that will stabilize you. Th!nk, El Naturalista, Wolky and Rollingsoft/Gabor are a few brands that have this feature on durable shoes with a modern design. Gabor does widths. If you find the top of the counter is cutting into your skin, go to a cobbler and kindly ask if they could run a hammer over the sharp edge a few times. No shoes are worth bleeding for.

If you've got chronic diarrhea, a bidet will be kinder to your backside than toilet paper. If you can't access even a travel bidet, or forgot it at home while traveling, I once got the advice "at some point you just take care of the worst of it and take a shower". Not only is this true, but 10 minutes of hot water on your lower half while breathing in warm, moist air tends to also calm down (at least a little) whatever in your belly has decided to run on horse software today.

One good thing that came from covid is that the TP shortage magically revealed unto recycled TP manufacturers that they can get quilty TP money by making quilty TP. If you do find yourself using a lot of toilet paper, look into finding some high quality 100% recycled stuff. Less because of saving the rain forest, or the lacking logic in buying new material with the intent to throw it out, but because it's less likely to clog your toilet. If you're running to the toilet every ten minutes, you are not having a day where you will have a good time with the plunger, or concoctions involving dish soap and boiling water.

If you're the kind of person who can get away with wearing dresses: you can hide a lot of bloated tummy under an A-line dress. Also, people think you put effort in your appearance if you wear a dress. I've got a few in knit jersey with flutter sleeves for days when I need to see a doctor for a vaccine, blood sample or BP reading. I've also got a few ankle length dresses if I don't have wfh days left but can't fit into anything but oversized jogging pants. You can sneak the jogging pants on underneath if it's cold.

If you've got a really bad bloat day and your underwear won't fit, but going commando is not an option... Adult diapers are surprisingly accommodating to waist fluctuations. Most supermarkets and drug stores have them near the period products. They are fully plastic, so either make sure you have times where you can let your skin air dry, or look into ways to prevent diaper rash for your skin type. They're also good for anxiety about soiling yourself if you've had accidents when sick/exhausted/in too much pain.

Sometimes you need a pain killer. Sometimes you need a spasm reliever. Ask about this to your doctor if you have cramps or muscle pain that has the same response, or less, to ibuprofen as it does to m&m's. Some of them work on smooth muscle, like in the GI system and uterus, others work on skeletal muscle, like those in the abdominal wall and limbs.

Pregnancy pillows are a friggin godsend for sleeping on your side after abdominal surgery or if you're prone to joint pain. If those are too expensive, too difficult to find or too heavy... I've used an Ikea Blåhaj in a pinch. The big, 100cm one. Put a cotton T-shirt or pillow cover over it in summer if its polyester body gets too warm.

Endocrine system making you feel like you're overheating even after everything has been checked out and deemed fine? Sweating a lot? Get some natural fiber clothes or underlayers with a high linen content. Or hemp. Or ramie. These are fibers from plant bast cells (instead of cotton fluff or pulped plant waste, like viscose or bamboo), and are better than their already comfier brethren at absorbing and wicking away sweat. They're also great at slowing down BO. You'll still feel hot, but not being sticky, stinky and hot will help. They don't have to be woven clothes or fancy clothes. My 55/45 hemp-cotton blend T-shirts from Up-Rise usually go for standard-affordable slow fashion prices... But they have decent promo codes at least three times a year, so at least half of my shirts were bought at "will not immediately dissolve" fast fashion prices.

The best medical aid or medication is the one you can use. Talk to your doctor/pharmacist/ortho tech if something isn't working for you. That's telling you doctor how bad side effects are, sure, I've mentioning I couldn't take a liquid medication on time because I needed to be near cutlery I could sanitize to take it, and got switched to the tablet formula. My compression wear compliance in hospital skyrocketed by being switched to knee-high ones as opposed to thigh-high. I've found out my tech can separately bill my insurance for the orthodic shoe inserts prescribed, and me for the "medically unnecessary", extra thin, carbon fiber witchcraft that means I can buy off the rack shoes.

I've been disabled for almost 29 years. Here's what I've learned.

Tablets sink and capsules float. Separate out your tablets and capsules when you go to take them. Tip your head down when taking capsules and up when taking tablets. Liquigels don't matter, they kinda stay in the middle of whatever liquid is in your mouth.

If your pill tastes bad, coat it with a bit of butter or margarine. I learned this from my mom, who learned it from a pharmacist.

Being in pain every day isn't normal. Average people experience pain during exceptional moments, like when they stub their toe or jam their finger in a door, not when they sit cross-legged.

Make a medical binder. Make multiple medical binders. I have a small one that comes with me to appointments and two big ones that stay at home, one with old stuff and one with more recent stuff.

Find your icons. Some of mine include Daya Betty (drag queen with diabetes), Stef Sanjati (influencer with Waardenburg syndrome and ADHD), and Hank Green (guy with ulcerative colitis who... does a bunch of stuff). They don't have to be disabled in the same way as you. They don't even have to be real people. Put their pictures up somewhere if you want; I've been meaning to decorate my medical binders with pictures of my icons.

Take a bin, box, bag, basket, whatever and fill it with items to cope with. This can be stuff for mentally coping like colouring books or play clay or stuff for physically coping like pain medicine or physio tape.

Decorate your shit! My cane for at home has a plushie backpack clip hanging from the end of the handle and my cane for going places is covered in stickers. All of my medical binders have fun scrapbooking paper on the outside. Sometimes, I put stickers and washi tape on my inhalers and pill bottles. I used my Cricut to decorate my coping bin with quotes from my icons, like "I've seen enough of Ba Sing Se" and "I need you to be angrier with that bell".

If a flare-up is making you unable to eat or keep food down, consider going to the ER. A pharmacist once told me that since my eye flares can make me so nauseous that I cannot eat, then I need to go to the hospital when that happens.

Cola works wonders for nausea. I have mini cans of Diet Pepsi in my coping bin.

Shortbread is one of the only things I can eat when nauseous. Giant Tiger sells individually-wrapped servings of shortbread around Christmas or the British import store sells them year-round. I also keep these in my coping bin.

Unless it violates a pain contract or something, don't be afraid to go behind your doctor's back to get something they are refusing you. I got my cardiologist referral by getting in with a different NP at my primary care clinic than who I usually saw. I switched from Seroquel to Abilify by visiting a walk-in.

If you have a condition affecting your abdomen in some way (GI issues, reproductive problems, y'know) then invest in track pants that are too big. I bought some for my laparoscopy over a year ago and they've been handy for pelvic pain days, too. I've also heard loose pants are good for after colonoscopies.

Do whatever works, even if it's weird. I've sat on the floor of the Eaton Centre to take my pills. I've shoved heating pads down my front waistband to reach my uterus.

High-top Converse are good for weak ankles. I almost exclusively wear them.

You can reuse your pill bottles for stuff. I use my jumbo ones to store makeup sponges and my long skinny ones to hold a travel-size amount of Q-Tips.

Just because your diagnostics come back with nothing, it doesn't mean nothing is wrong. Maybe you were checking the wrong thing, or the diagnostic tool wasn't sensitive enough. I have bradycardia episodes even though multiple cardiac tests caught nothing. I probably have endometriosis even though my gynecologist didn't see anything.

You can bring your comfort item to appointments, and it's generally a green flag when someone talks to you about it. I brought a Squishmallow turkey (named Ulana) to my laparoscopy and they had her wearing my mask when I woke up. I brought a Build-A-Bear cat (named Blinx) to another procedure and a nurse told me that everyone in the hall on the way to the procedure room saw him and were talking about how cute he was. Both of those ended up being positive experiences and every person who talked to me about my plushies was nice to me. If you don't feel comfortable having it visible to your provider during the appointment, you can hide it in your bag and just know it's there, or if you're in a video appointment, you can hold it below frame in your lap.

Get a small bucket, fill it with stuff, and stick it in your bed (if you have room for it). I filled a bucket with Ensure, juice boxes, oatmeal bars, lotion, my rescue inhaler, etc. in October 2023 in anticipation of my laparoscopy and I still have it in my bed as of January 2025.

If your disability impacts your impulse control (e.g. ADHD, bipolar disorder), you should consider setting limits around your spending -- no more than X dollars at a time, nothing online unless it's absolutely necessary, and so on. Or, run these purchases by someone you trust before committing to them; I use my BFF groupchat to help talk sense into myself when I buy stuff.

Feel free to add on what you've learned about disability!

[stylesispunk]

The soldier in the armour | part iv

Marcus Acacius x f!reader

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

summary: Acacius put his plan on march, starting by sending you away with a sealing promise of returning back to you, but you cannot bear the thought of him fighting alone, and some plans are destroyed.

wc: 7k (lazy)

warnings: angst, age gap, mentions of miscarriage, blood, violence against women, power imbalance, kissing without consent, mentions of death. The events of this chapter happen on the same night.

a/n: Sorry for being so lazy about writing and updating lately. I'm just a teacher on her summer break. This one will be intense. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading. 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

"Hold my hand," Acacius said, extending his arm toward you. You were sitting by the fountain, feeding the fish. The last couple of days had been torture for you, and he wanted nothing more than to shower you with acts of love from the deepest part of his heart.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his. There was a softness in his gaze, a quiet determination that melted the tension in your chest. The cool breeze rustled the leaves above, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to pause.

Reluctantly, you placed your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his touch seep into your skin. He gave a gentle squeeze, as if trying to transfer some unspoken strength to you.

"Come," he whispered, his voice a balm against the chaos of your thoughts. "Let me take you somewhere…”

You hesitated, glancing back at the rippling water, watching the fish dart beneath the surface. But the pull of his presence was stronger. You stood, your fingers still entwined with his, and allowed him to lead you away from the weight of the past few days.

He led you through a narrow corridor you didn’t recognize, its walls lined with ivy that crept in through tiny cracks. At the very end, hidden behind a heavy wooden door, Acacius paused. He glanced back at you, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“No one else knows about this place,” he murmured, his voice low, almost conspiratorial. “It’s just for us.”

He pushed the door open with a soft creak, revealing a hidden courtyard tucked away from the rest of the villa. It was small, intimate, overgrown with wildflowers and shaded by an ancient olive tree whose twisted branches reached out like protective arms. The air smelled of lavender and sun-warmed stone, and the only sounds were the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant song of cicadas at dawn.

Acacius turned to you, his expression softening. “I come here when I need to feel... whole again.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles, lingering. “And I thought maybe, just maybe, it could help you too.”

There was a strange tone on his voice, as if he was lingering to your presence before slipping away from you, but you decided to ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach.

"I know you're worried” you whispered, looking up at him to meet his gaze, smiling softly “but I’m gonna be fine. I’ll recover from this someday.”

“Can I confess you something?” He asked almost ashamed of the question

You nodded, inviting him to speak his truth.

"This is embarrassing for a general but I'm really scared."He confessed, “I…I have someone to lose this time"

Your breath hitched and sudden wave of anxiety crept into your bones.

"You won't lose me" you reassured, caressing his checks with your fingertips.

"From all the battles I fought. Falling in love with you came easily to me...I thought it was going to be difficult for a man like me to be deserving of someone like you.

"This sounds like a goodbye and I don't like that tone in your voice." You said, voice breaking at the thought.

“You know things could go wrong-“

“They will not.” You interrupted, reassuring him once again.

“Allowing myself to know you and love you has been the bravest thing I've ever done," he whispered, his voice trembling just enough for you to hear the depth of his fear, and his love.

Before you could respond, his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you gently but urgently toward him. His lips met yours in a kiss that was both fierce and tender, as if he were pouring every feeling inside on it, every hidden feeling into that single, breath-stealing moment. The world around you seemed to dissolve, the rustling leaves, the distant cicadas, all fading into the background as the warmth of his mouth ignited something deep within you.

Your heart raced, the anxiety still humming in the edges of your mind, but his touch grounded you, as always. You let your fingers trail through his hair, pulling him closer, as if anchoring him to this promise you both silently made.

You won't lose me. We won’t lose each other.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathless, hearts pounding in the same rhythm, at the same time. His eyes searched yours, as if trying to memorize this moment, to etch it into his soul.

Then, without warning, he kissed you again, this time with a raw urgency that stole the air left from your lungs. His hands slid from your jaw down to your waist, gripping you as though he could mold your bodies into one. His fingertips dug into your skin, tracing every curve, every inch he could reach, as if committing the feel of you to memory.

You responded in kind, your hands roaming over his shoulders, his back, clutching at the fabric of his tunic like it was the only thing tethering you to reality. The heat between you was electric, a fire burning bright against the looming shadow of what was to come.

When he finally pulled back again, his breath was ragged, his lips lingering against yours for a fleeting second longer. His hands framed your face now, thumbs brushing softly against your cheeks in contrast to the urgency of moments before. His gaze was heavy, filled with a thousand words he couldn’t seem to say.

He leaned in, pressing one lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin.

"My heart, my body and my soul belong to you in every lifetime." He whispered, nosing your neck, savoring the taste of your skin.

"My heart, my body and my soul belong to you in every lifetime. Since the day you saved me from the bathtub and sword you would love me." You whispered the same words back because you meant them.

He smiled against your neck, feeling his eyes watering already. For a man of a thousand battles these shows of affection tended to seen as a sign of weakness. But by your side he learnt about the vulnerability that it came when you loved someone.

You smelled like calm lavender, and your souls interviewed in an unbreakable thread destined to meet in every single lifetime.

You were his person; the best Rome had ever given him back for all the duty and sacrifice. It broke his heart to send you away.

He didn’t fear death anymore, but not seeing you again broke him.

Acacius helped you up, his strong arm supporting you, your heart still ached with the lingering sensation of his words, his love, his devotion. You walked together, the world outside the villa seeming quieter. His hand remained gently wrapped around yours.

When you reached back to the villa, the air felt heavy, as if something was waiting for you there. The grand doors opened to reveal Lucilla standing near the font, her hands trembling slightly as she stood motionless, her gaze distant. Her expression was clouded with worry, yet there was an undeniable sorrow in her eyes that you couldn’t ignore.

“Mother, what’s wrong?” you asked, stepping forward, concern flooding your chest as you glanced between her and Acacius.

Lucilla turned her head slowly, her eyes brimming with tears.

"They are here" she said, painfully ignoring your questions as she looked at Acacius.

"It's time" he said, painfully, avoiding looking at you for a moment, then he glanced at you "Look. They are some of my men. They are here to take you out-“

"I don't want to leave" you protested, coming to Lucilla, "Mother, please don't do this again. Come with me"

 You stepped back, your heart twisting painfully as you listened to Acacius, walking to your mother.

"I don't want to leave," you protested again, your voice trembling. You reached for her, the distance between you growing wider with every passing second. "Mother, please don't do this again. Come with me."

Lucilla’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and for a moment, she looked as though she might give in. But the sorrow on her face deepened, and she shook her head gently. "I cannot, my dear. I failed Lucius once." Her voice cracked as she spoke his name, a deep, haunting sadness settling over her. "I won’t fail you too. Not again."

You felt the sting of her words like a dagger in your chest. She was leaving you, just like she had left him. The memories of her absence in the darkest moments of your life, when you were fighting for survival, flashed before your eyes, and the thought of repeating that same pain was unbearable.

"So, you're failing me now?" you asked, the sharpness in your tone betraying the hurt you felt. Your breath was ragged as you held back tears, frustration and confusion bubbling up inside you.

Lucilla stepped forward, her hands trembling as she reached for you, but she stopped just short of touching you. "Oh no," she whispered, shaking her head. "I cannot bear the thought of losing you to this. If you're away, Geta won’t be able to use you as a tool against Acacius or me. I can't risk you being taken from me as he was."

The words stung, but in them, you realized the depth of her fear. She wasn’t abandoning you, she was trying to protect you, to keep you safe in a world where everything felt uncertain and dangerous.

"But I don’t want to be safe without you," you said softly, your voice breaking. "I can't go alone.”

Lucilla looked at you, her gaze softening for a brief moment, but the fear in her eyes remained. "I love you too much," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "And I can't watch you suffer here.”

Acacius stood behind you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. His presence was a steady anchor in the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. He knew how hard this was for you, but his silence spoke volumes. He understood what it meant to love and lose, and now, he was offering you something that felt like the only way forward.

Lucilla’s voice quivered as she took a step back, her hands clenched at her sides. "I cannot go with you... but I will wait for you here. And I will pray that one day you come back to me. That we both do."

You felt as though your heart was being torn in two—torn between the woman who had given you life and the man who had become your lifeline. The conflict swirled in your chest, but all you could do was nod, unable to find the right words.

"I love you," you whispered softly to her, your voice breaking as the tears finally fell.

Lucilla gave you a sad, bittersweet smile. "I love you too, my darling. Always."

You turned to Acacius, your heart sinking at the pained expression that crossed his face as his gaze shifted from you to the three men who had appeared in the distance. His posture stiffened, his eyes narrowing as they approached with purposeful strides.

The moment felt heavy, like the air itself was holding its breath. His soldiers had arrived. The plan was set in motion. The urgency of the situation weighed down on both of you, but there was something else, something unspoken in the way Acacius held himself. His pain, too, was palpable. As much as he had sworn to protect you, he knew what this moment meant. The time for goodbyes was closing in, and there was no turning back.

"Acacius..." you whispered, your voice trembling as you reached for his hand. But he stepped back slightly, his jaw tightening as his men neared.

He glanced over his shoulder at you, his eyes full of regret and determination. "You need to go. Now."

The men stopped in front of him, their faces unreadable but their posture betraying the tension of the moment. Acacius addressed them with a tone that brooked no argument, his voice firm but clipped.

"Prepare the horses," he commanded, and one of them nodded before heading off to carry out his orders.

You looked at Acacius, pain flickering in your chest as you realized that the next few moments would change everything. The world you had known was slipping away, and there was no going back to the life you had before.

"You’re leaving me, aren’t you?" you asked, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them.

Acacius looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, but his gaze softened when he saw the hurt in your eyes. "No. I’m not leaving you." His voice was low and full of certainty, though there was a storm of emotions raging behind those words. "I’ll never leave you. But I need you to trust me now."

You nodded, though the uncertainty in your chest remained. His men were getting ready, and you knew that there was no time left to hesitate.

"Promise me you’ll come to get me back," you said quietly, the words more of a plea than a command.

Acacius stepped closer, his hand brushing the side of your face, his thumb tenderly tracing over your skin. "I swear," he said, his voice raw and filled with emotion. "I’ll come back for you. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure we’re together again."

The words were like a lifeline, but the storm of emotions raging in your chest made it hard to hold on to them. You wanted to believe him more than anything, but the world was so unpredictable, and you knew better than to expect anything in these dark times.

As Acacius turned to give orders to his men, you felt the weight of the world crashing down on you, the finality of this moment settling into your bones. You wanted to run to him, to beg him to let you stay, but you couldn’t, because deep down, you knew what he was doing was necessary.

This was bigger than the two of you.

Acacius cupped your face once more, his eyes soft but heavy with the weight of what was to come. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, lingering kiss, one that spoke of promises and unspoken fears. His touch was tender, like it was the last thing he could give you before everything changed.

"Be safe," he whispered against your lips, his breath warm and full of urgency. "No matter what happens, remember that I will always love you."

Your heart ached as his words sank in, the depth of his devotion resonating through every fiber of your being. You nodded, though your throat tightened, unable to find the words to express what you felt. His love, his promise, were everything you had left to hold on to in this fleeting moment.

He stepped back slightly, his hand still resting on your cheek, and without another word, he helped you onto the horse. His movements were swift and precise, his touch strong but careful as he steadied you in the saddle. His gaze never left yours, filled with a quiet desperation, as though he could somehow will the situation to change with just his stare.

As he stood next to the horse, his hand resting on the reins, he gave a final, lingering look, as though imprinting you into his memory. Then, with a slow exhale, he spoke again, his voice filled with finality.

"Trust in me," he said, his eyes intense. "No matter what happens, trust that I will find a way back to you."

His men began to move in the background, preparing to take you away. Acacius placed one last kiss on your forehead, a soft, lingering touch that felt like it was marking the end of a chapter. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his presence, remained with you, even as he pulled away and nodded to his soldiers.

With a final glance, he stepped back, his face a mixture of sorrow and determination. His hand reached out toward you one last time, as if he wanted to pull you into his arms, to hold you just a moment longer. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

"Go," he said quietly, the word almost a command, but it carried so much emotion that it cut deep.

As the men took the reins of your horse and started moving you away, you cast one last look over your shoulder. Acacius stood there, still watching you, his face a mask of stoic resolve but his eyes betraying the pain that he had hidden behind his duty.

And then, as you were carried further away, the world around you began to blur. The sound of horses’ hooves pounding against the earth, the rustling of the wind, it all faded as you focused on the one thing that remained clear.

As the path beyond you seemed to haunt you, you tightened the cloak around your shoulders, its coarse fabric doing little to shield you from the chill that seeped into your bones. Every step away from the villa felt heavier and suffocating, each one pulling you farther from Acacius, your mother, and Lucius. The road stretched ahead, but your mind remained trapped in the past, tangled in memories and regrets.

You couldn’t shake the image of Acacius’s eyes, the way they softened when he looked at you, or the feel of his lips pressed against your forehead. The smell of lavender on his neck that seemed to lullaby you into sleep every time he wrapped his strong arms around you. Your heart ached thinking about your mother, her face etched with sorrow and strength as she pushed you to safety. And Lucius, your brother, the rightful emperor of Rome, forced to live as a slave under a name that was never his.

As Acacius's men guided you through the winding paths, the weight of your separation grew unbearable. You were being secured by Acacius’s army, hidden away from the dangers that loomed, but it felt more like a prison than protection. You were trapped in the middle of something larger than yourself, and the distance only amplified the helplessness curling in your chest.

Meanwhile, back at the villa, Acacius stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the direction you had disappeared. His heart clenched painfully, the hollow ache of your absence settling deep within him. A single tear escaped down his cheek, betraying the stoic facade he tried to maintain. The emptiness in his chest felt insurmountable, as if a piece of him had been torn away.

You were the Achilles heel on his life, he couldn’t bear the thought of you being away from his protection.

Lucilla, seeing the turmoil etched across his face, stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “She’s strong, like her father” she whispered, her voice steady despite the tears glistening in her own eyes. “And you will find your way back to her.”

Acacius’s jaw tightened, his hand coming to rest over Lucilla’s in silent acknowledgment. The touch sent shivers down his spine; it wasn’t love but understanding. The both of you letting go your heart away.

His eyes never wavered from the path you had taken, his heart silently vowing that no matter what, he would find you again.

Beneath the cloak, you knew you hadn’t far away from the villa. Just one bold movement and you could go back.

There was a weight that became heavier to bear. Acacius would risk his life to free an empire from its tyranny, and perhaps the power would go back to your family while your mother would get stuck in the middle and Lucius real identity would display.

Suddenly, the weight of it all became unbearable. Without thinking, you yanked on the reins, bringing the horse to a skidding halt. The men guarding you shouted in alarm, but their voices were distant echoes compared to the roaring in your ears. You leapt off the horse, your feet hitting the ground hard, and before they could react, you were running, running back towards the villa, towards the people you couldn’t abandon.

"Stop! Come back!" Acacius's men called after you, their voices laced with desperation. But you didn’t listen. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t let them risk their lives while you hid away, blind to whatever horrors might unfold.

you couldn’t turn your back on them. Not now. Now after all.

You were stronger than that. You were the daughter of Maximus Decimus, a man of honor.

You wouldn’t let them risk their lives while you hid away, blind to whatever horrors might unfold. The wind tore at your cloak, your breath coming in ragged gasps as your feet pounded the dirt path. Every step closer to the villa felt like shedding a layer of fear, replaced by a fierce, unyielding resolve.

The villa loomed in the distance; it brought a strange comfort to your heart. Your mind raced faster than your legs, what if you were too late? What if Acacius or your mother were already in danger? The thought spurred you on, ignoring the burning in your lungs and the aching in your legs.

Behind you, the shouts of Acacius’s men grew fainter, their figures shrinking against the horizon. But your heart was set, you belonged there, in the thick of it, facing whatever fate awaited alongside those you loved. As the gates of the villa came into view, your heart pounded not from exhaustion, but from the sheer force of your determination.

You were almost there.

"Acacius!" you shouted, breathless as you reached the entrance. As soon as he came into view, you crashed into him, and he caught you effortlessly, his arms wrapping around you in an embrace that felt like home.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was hushed, desperate, his hands moving to cradle your face, as if he needed to be sure you were real.

"I can't-" you gasped out, struggling to steady your breath. "Don't ask me to run away while you stay here. Please, don’t."

His fingers traced your jaw, his forehead pressing against yours as he exhaled shakily. "I can’t put you in danger," he whispered. "I won’t."

You closed your eyes, your breath mingling with his. His warmth surrounded you, grounding you, but the ache in your chest only grew stronger.

"How?" you whispered, searching his eyes. "How can I leave when you will be here fighting?

Acacius’s jaw clenched. "You know what will happen if you stay—"

"And you know what will happen if I go!" You pulled back slightly, forcing him to see the determination burning in your eyes. "I grew up in a world where privilege was handed to me until it wasn’t. My heart was humble until it wasn’t. I never realized how greedy I could be until I met you, until my heart started beating for you. I want everything that comes from you—your words, your breath, your smile, your heart, you. And if there is a chance, they take you from me, then I’d rather meet the spirits myself than live in a world where you don’t exist."

His breath hitched, and for the first time, you saw something break in him. A vulnerability so raw it threatened to consume you both. His hands trembled against your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears you hadn’t realized had fallen.

"Please," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Don’t make this harder for me."

Your heart twisted painfully. "Then don’t make it harder for me, either. You already know how voiceless women are here. Let me make my choice for once."

His eyes darkened with conflict, with love, with fear. And then, without another word, he crushed his lips against yours. it was a desperate, aching plea. A promise. A surrender.

When he pulled away, his breath was ragged, his hands still cupping your face as though afraid you’d disappear.

"Then stay," he whispered. "And if the gods are kind, we will survive this together."

But you were afraid the gods had never been kind to lovers like you.

Lucilla watched the exchange in silence before stepping forward. "My child," she said gently, "I know you are willing to risk your life for those you love. But this is not a fight you can win with your heart.”

You turned to her, desperation burning in your eyes. "I know this villa better than anyone. I grew up here. I know every passage, every hidden corridor. If I can get to Lucius, I can free him. We can hide. We can escape and Acacius and his army will free Rome."

"No," Acacius said immediately, shaking his head. "Absolutely not."

"He’s my brother!" you argued.

"And what happens when you get caught?" Lucilla’s voice was softer, but no less firm. "You think Geta or Caracalla will show mercy to you? He’ll use you against us, just as he always intended."

Acacius tightened his grip on you. "You are the only thing keeping me from turning this entire city to dust. If something happens to you, I won’t stop. I won’t care about the cost."

You swallowed hard, your chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. "Then let me help you. Let me help Lucius."

"The best way to help is to stay safe," Lucilla insisted. "We will find a way, Acacius-“

“Lucius will refuse Acaciu’s help.” You interrupted, “He took the city he was in, but I’m his sister.”

Acacius's jaw tightened, his eyes dark with frustration and the fear it came when danger seemed to follow you. He shook his head. "That’s exactly why you can’t go. You think he’ll just follow you? Lucius is stubborn. He won’t leave. He won’t abandon his pride, even for you."

"He will if I make him see reason," you pressed, your voice trembling with conviction you wanted to believe. "If I remind him who he is, what he stands for. He’ll listen to me."

Lucilla exhaled sharply, stepping between you and Acacius, her presence like a steady force in the eye of the storm. "And if he doesn’t? If he refuses, what then?”

You flinched at her words. The weight of this pressed down on you, but you refused to let it break you. "Then at least I’ll have tried," you whispered. "At least I won’t sit in hiding while the people I love fight for their lives."

Acacius turned away from you abruptly, running a hand through his hair, his breath ragged. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath before spinning back toward you. "Do you even hear yourself? Do you know what you’re asking me to do?" His voice cracked, raw and unguarded. "You’re asking me to send you straight into the lion’s den. To just…juts let you walk into danger while I stand back and watch."

"I’m asking you to trust me," you said, your voice fierce despite the tears burning your throat. "I have spent my whole life being protected, shielded from the ugliness of this world. But I am not some delicate thing to be tucked away. If we are to have any future at all, we must take risks."

Acacius closed his eyes, as if trying to drown out your words, to quiet the war inside him. Lucilla placed a hand on his arm, grounding him. "She is her father's daughter," she murmured, her gaze heavy with understanding. "You cannot change her mind when it is already set."

He let out a shaky breath, his hands curling into fists before he finally looked at you again. "If you go, you do not go alone."

Your breath hitched. "Acacius-"

"You do not go alone," he repeated, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I will not let you face this without protection."

Lucilla nodded. "I know someone who can get you into the cells unnoticed. But you must understand-this is your one chance. If something goes wrong, there will be no second attempt. No coming back for you."

Your heart pounded as the full weight of the decision settled in. There was no turning back now.

"Then I will not fail," you promised, meeting Acacius’s gaze.

But even as you said the words, you knew that fate was a cruel, unpredictable thing.

“I will wait for you at the end of the dungeon” He explained, “Once you free Lucius, both of you, especially you will come and going to go away. Then when tomorrow came, I’ll get everything settle for what’s coming.”

Lucilla’s expression was unreadable, but there was something in her eyes something like resignation. "We don't have time to argue anymore," she said finally. "If you're going to do this, you must go now."

Acacius stepped closer, his hands gripping your arms as if he could anchor you to him. His touch burned, searing into your skin, branding you with the weight of his worry. "Promise me," he murmured. "Promise me that no matter what happens, you won’t hesitate. The moment Lucius is free, you run."

You swallowed hard, nodding, though you weren’t sure if you could keep that promise.

Lucilla moved toward the entrance, glancing over her shoulder. "I will send word to the one who will take you inside. Wait for him by the servants' passage near the western wall. And keep your head down."

Acacius leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips. "Be careful," he whispered. "I need you to come back to me."

You lingered there for a moment, memorizing the feeling of his hands on you, the way his voice softened when he spoke to you, the way he looked at you as if you were something worth fighting for.

"Mia vita" he called out, stopping you on your tracks to kiss you softly, the pulled back slightly “Please don't let this to be our last kiss"

"We still have a life to live together" you smiled against his lips, peeking his lips once more "at peace this time"

"I will find you" he promised, peeking your lips once again, savoring every single second of this. "I'll be waiting for you at the end of the dungeon."

You nodded, feeling shivers down your spine. He kissed your lips again as if couldn’t let go because of the fear, tasting the sweet flavor of fruits on them, lingering to the feeling that in a few hours he would free Rome from the tyranny and escape with you to a happy ending, a happy life.

"Be careful, love" he whispered as you walked from his grasp.

Then, with one final look, you turned and disappeared into the shadows.

And as you did, Acacius stood still, watching you leave, his fists clenched at his sides.

He had never felt so powerless.

The night stretched long and cold as you moved through the villa’s outer corridors, keeping close to the stone walls. Every shadow felt like a threat waiting to cut you in half, every sound a warning. Your heart pounded in your chest, but you forced yourself forward. Your mother’s contact was waiting near the western wall as promised, a hooded figure who barely looked at you before motioning for you to follow.

"This way," he whispered, leading you through a narrow passage. "The guards are fewer tonight, but that won’t last long."

You nodded, pressing yourself deeper into the cloak wrapped around your shoulders. The passage led downward into the lower levels of the coliseum, where the scent of damp stone and burning torches thickened the air. With each step, the reality of what you were about to do settled heavier in your chest.

Finally, the man halted near a rusted iron gate, peering around the corner before motioning for you to stop. "Beyond here, you’re on your own. You already know where the cells, be fast my lady.”

You exhaled slowly, steadying yourself before slipping through the gate. The corridor was dimly lit, flickering torchlight casting shadows along the stone walls. You kept low, moving carefully. Every instinct screamed at you to hurry, but you couldn’t afford mistakes.

Then you saw him.

Lucius sat in the farthest cell, his head down, his hands bound in front of him. His tunic was dirtied and torn; his face shadowed with exhaustion. But he was still alive.

"Lucius," you whispered urgently, pressing yourself against the bars. His head snapped up, eyes widening at the sight of you.

"By the gods," he breathed. "What are you doing here?"

"Freeing you," you said, already fumbling with the lock. "We don’t have much time, Acacius has a plan, but we need to go now."

Lucius let out a short, breathless laugh. "Acacius? And here I thought you had come to your senses and abandoned him.”

You shot him a glare, your fingers working as quickly as possible. "Do you want to fight about this, or do you want to walk out of here alive?"

Before he could respond, footsteps echoed down the hall. Your breath caught.

The guards were coming.

You barely had time to think. With trembling fingers, you worked at the lock, gritting your teeth as the iron refused to give. Lucius shifted impatiently behind the bars, his gaze darting toward the approaching footsteps.

"Hurry," he muttered.

"I know," you hissed, forcing yourself to focus. The crude metal bit into your skin, but finally, with a sharp click, the lock gave way. You got the door open, and Lucius stepped out, shaking the stiffness from his limbs.

"We need to go," you whispered.

Together, you slipped into the shadows, pressing yourselves against the cold stone walls. The guards were close now, their voices carrying down the corridor. You gripped Lucius’s wrist, pulling him forward as you sprinted through the winding path of the dungeon.

Your breaths came fast and shallow, your heart hammering with every turn. The torches flickered wildly in the drafty halls, casting distorted shapes that sent chills up your spine.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you reached the end of the dungeon, the meeting place Acacius had promised.

But he wasn’t there.

You came to a sudden stop, chest heaving as your eyes darted around the empty space.

"Where is he?" Lucius whispered harshly.

You didn’t answer. He should be here.

He said he would be here. You thought.

A cold feeling crept up your spine. Something was wrong.

Your pulse thundered in your ears. Think. Think faster. Acacius wasn’t here. That meant something had gone wrong. That meant-

“We have to move,” you whispered, gripping Lucius’s arm.

He gave you a sharp look, but didn’t argue. You took the lead, slipping through the dimly lit corridor, your body tense, ears straining for any sound. The dungeon air was thick with dampness, every breath heavy in your chest.

Acacius had told you to wait. But waiting was a death sentence now.

He could be in trouble. He could be dead.

No. You forced the thought away. Acacius was strong. He was waiting for you somewhere else. He had to be.

Lucius kept pace beside you, his voice low and urgent. “Where are we going?”

“Out,” you said, scanning the hallway. “I know another way.”

A narrow servant’s passage was carved into the farthest wall, one you had used as a child to sneak out when the world inside these walls had felt too suffocating. You yanked open the hidden door, pushing Lucius through before slipping inside yourself. The stone closed behind you, sealing you both in darkness.

The passage was narrow, forcing you to move single file. Your fingers trailed the rough stone as you navigated through the twisting tunnel, the air cool and stale. You could hear Lucius’s uneven breathing behind you, but neither of you spoke.

You reached the end and pressed against the wooden panel that led to the outside. For a long moment, you hesitated.

If Acacius wasn’t here, it meant something had shifted in the plan. But you had no time to figure out what.

You had to keep moving.

Bracing yourself, you pushed the door open and stepped into the night.

The night air was a fleeting whisper of freedom before it was ripped away.

The moment you and Lucius stepped beyond the hidden passage, torches flared to life, illuminating the ring of imperial guards waiting for you. The glint of their drawn swords was the only warning you had before rough hands seized you.

Lucius struggled, his fury a silent storm beside you, but he was outnumbered. A soldier slammed the hilt of his sword into his stomach, and he collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath.

“Lucius!” you shouted, lunging toward him, but another set of hands wrenched you back.

A grizzled guard stepped forward; his expression smug beneath his bronze helmet. “Did you really think you could slip away unnoticed?” he sneered.

You twisted against their grip, but they held you firm. “Where is Acacius?” you demanded. “What have you done to him?”

The guard chuckled darkly. “Worry for yourself, little dove.” He leaned in, his breath rank against your cheek. “Emperor Geta will not be fond of you after this treason.”

Your stomach twisted. Geta. He knew.

The guards yanked you and Lucius apart, dragging him in the opposite direction. He thrashed violently, eyes burning with desperation as they pulled him away from you.

“Stay strong,” he shouted. “Don’t give them what they want!”

Then he was gone.

You fought harder, but it was useless. The last thing you saw before they forced you forward was the blood-red banners of the empire swaying in the cold night air.

The throne room was suffocating with tension, the air thick with the scent of oil and burning torches. Acacius and Lucilla stood before the imperial dais, their bodies rigid as Emperor Geta lounged with lazy arrogance in his gilded chair. Caracalla stood beside him, his fingers curling and uncurling as if barely restraining his temper.

The moment Acacius learned you had been captured, something inside him had snapped. His presence alone carried a storm, his jaw clenched, fists curled at his sides, the veins in his neck straining with suppressed fury.

“Where is she?” Acacius demanded, his voice like thunder cracking through the hall.

Geta smirked, swirling the wine in his goblet. “Who?” he mused, feigning innocence. “Oh, you mean your wife.” He sighed dramatically. “A shame, really. I expected more from you, Acacius. But in the end, even the great general is brought to his knees for a woman.”

Acacius took a menacing step forward, only for Lucilla to press a warning hand against his arm. “You do not want to do this,” she whispered, though even her voice carried the edge of a threat.

Caracalla’s lip curled; his rage barely restrained. “You made a mistake, Acacius. You should have fled with her when you had the chance.”

“I will get her back,” Acacius growled. His eyes snapped to Geta, cold and unrelenting. “Emperor Geta, torture me if you want, but don't dare to lay a finger on my wife.”

Geta’s expression darkened at that word.

His knuckles went white around the goblet before he set it down with deliberate slowness. “But I will,” he said, his voice dangerously smooth. He walked towards Acacius, stepping closer, his grin cruel. “Now, I’m going to see her.”

Acacius lunged, but the guards were already between them, forcing him back as Geta strode from the room. The moment the doors slammed shut behind him, Acacius let out a roar of frustration. He whirled, striking one of the marble pillars with his fist hard enough to crack the stone.

Acacius’s chest heaved with each ragged breath, but when he turned to face Lucilla next to him, his eyes were filled with something worse than fury.

Desperation.

His hands clenched into fists again. “I will kill him. I swear it.”

The cell was damp and smelled of rust and decay. You hit the ground hard as the guards shoved you inside, the impact jolting through your knees and elbows. The cold stone bit into your skin, but you barely felt it, your mind was reeling, heart hammering in your chest.

"You should have stayed where you belonged," one of the guards sneered from the other side of the iron bars. "Emperor Geta will not be fond of you after this treason."

You lifted your head, eyes burning with defiance. "I still have you to make him beg for mercy."

The guard scoffed but did not reply. He only smirked, slamming the barred door shut with a loud clang before disappearing down the corridor, his footsteps fading into the darkness.

You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to sit upright. Every part of you ached, but pain was the least of your concerns.

You exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to your face as tears threatened to spill. But you wouldn’t cry.

Instead, you allowed yourself a moment to gather your strength. Tomorrow was coming, and with it, the arena and whatever fate awaited Acacius. Whatever happened, you wouldn’t let Geta break you.

Then, a sound.

Footsteps. Slow. Measured.

A chill ran down your spine.

You knew who it was before you even saw him.

The door creaked open, and there he stood.

Emperor Geta.

The first thing he did as he took glance of you was grabbing your face forcefully with his hand, forcing you to spare him a glance. He wouldn't even dream of seeing you like this, is disbelief, with your hair a mess, and bloody. You weren't made for a life like this, but now under these conditions, this was the closest he had come to have you.

"Escaping with that slave, my dear lady? You marrying Acacius felt less insulting than this." He said, looking dead into your shining orbits.

"Marrying you would an insult to myself. I would rather eat shit than be tied to you." You spatted.

Geta's smile widened as a cruel laugh escaped his lips as his studied your features. Your before soft skin seemed dirty by drops of blood and dirt. You were a delicate doll, but now smashed and crumbled.

Geta’s expression twisted, his smugness evaporating in an instant. His jaw clenched, and his eyes burned with rage. Before you could react, his hand lashed out, the sharp crack of the slap ringing through the chamber.

The force of the blow snapped your head to the side, and you stumbled, catching yourself against the floor. Your cheek stung, the pain radiating hot and angry, but it was nothing compared to the cold fury swelling in your chest.

Geta loomed over you, his breath heavy, his hand still trembling from the strike. “You will not speak to me that way,” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “You forget who holds your life in his hands. You forget who I am. I'm the emperor and you're just a prisoner granted privileges because of your mother and Acacius" his face got close to you, "but now you're a mere slave accused of treason."

You spit on his face. The anger and loathing consuming like a fire burning your body.

Geta took his hand to his face, cleaning your spit with disgust written on his face. You had ended with his patience and he couldn't bear it anymore.

Just a few hours ago you had been secured on Acacius big arms, surrounded by the faint scene of laurel and lavender that seemed to calmed you down.

Now the stink of dirt and humidity rusted your nostrils. You wanted to close your eyes and feel the lavender on your nose, Acacius lips on your temple. You wanted him to save you, you were pleading the gods.

"Please stop this...let me see him" you begged, your voice broken. "Don't hurt him."

Lifting your gaze to see if by chance there would be a tiny bit of sympathy dancing on his eyes, you face the coldest gaze you had ever seen.

"Acacius' life is on my will, your mother's...even that beloved gladiator of yours." He got closer once again, looking directly to your eyes, you felt his wine breath on your face, "Test my patience once again, my lady and I will snap my finger like this" he snapped his fingers in front of you, getting closer to your lips you can almost feel his on your and it felt repulsive "and all of them will be dead. All of them!"

You gritted in protest, the repulsion of his touch filling you with an instinctual fear that made your skin crawl. The air between you felt suffocating, and the words he spoke echoed in your mind like a distant nightmare, gnawing at the edges of your sanity.

You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, forcing you to remain still as his lips lingered too close to yours. The stench of wine and bitterness clung to him, every part of him an invasion to your thoughts, to your soul.

"Don’t you dare," you hissed, your voice trembling but filled with defiance. You refused to let him have the satisfaction of breaking you.

“You have no idea what I could give you,” Geta began, his voice low and smooth, carrying the weight of his authority. “Power, wealth, freedom to rule by my side as my wife. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of could be yours if only you’d open your eyes and choose me.”

You hold your gaze, your heart pounding in your chest as his lips pressed forcefully against yours. The taste of wine and greed made your stomach churn, and every inch of your body screamed in protest. This was not love. This was a sick obsession, an attempt to break your will and twist your bones. You clenched your fists, refusing to let him see the fear creeping at the edges of your resolve.

"I would rather die than choose you," you spat, your voice full of venom.

“I don’t care what you want” he said, pulling away just to stand up, smiling cruelly down at you on the ground. "Chain her to the wall." He ordered the guards

Your despair filled the dirty dungeons "No, please. Don't" you squirmed under the men's hold "Let me go!"

The cold stone wall bit into your skin as the guards’ iron chains wrapped around your wrists, pulling you taut against the damp, dark dungeon. The echo of your cries was swallowed by the silence of the place, but inside, your fury burned with an intensity you had never known. You clenched your teeth, fighting the tears that threatened to fall, determined to stay strong.

"Goodnight, my princess," Geta’s mocking voice lingered in the air long after he was gone, a cruel reminder of his power over you.

Your screams followed geta's steps as he walked away from you. You were left there to drown in your own tears as you curse and whatever plan his Machiavellian mind has.

Your fingers tightened into fists, nails digging into your palms as you whispered a curse under your breath, a spell woven from the ancient words passed down through history. Soon the future of Rome would be defined and you were going to take charge of it.

Tags 💌: (if you want to be removed feel free to tell me. I'm super shy when it comes to tags. By the way I couldn't tag everyone)

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[f1gur4t1v3]

I am obsessed with the idea that while Dick is the lightest of the older bats, and even with his acrobatic training, Jason is the one who can go flying with the grapple gun. (Physics inaccuracies probably idk dude)

Dick is just sitting out at night during patrol, its a slow night in the area he’s in and he’s heading back home to blud in the morning so he’s more than happy to take it easier than he normally would. He’s perched himself up above a dead lamp post, and he’s carefully watching the roads and alleys below him for any danger.

That’s when a bit further away from him he hears a familiar click of a grapple gun, followed by a by a mass of muscle going flying into the air and my god that’s Jason. Dick is just in awe of how high he gets with it as well. Jason’s jumping over buildings without landing on the roof, and then doing the same to an even taller building. He can’t even tell what Jason’s doing to get so high because right before he starts launching up the side of the building he dips into the dark alley in between them.

Dick is in awe, amazed, but still in a whole lot of shock for what he witnessed. When he tries to tell the Batfam of what he saw the only other person who believes him is Tim, who’d also seen Jason go shooting out from behind a building.

Then Jason does it when the family is near, and god he feels a sense of relief for the dumbest reason. Bruce can’t believe his eyes watching his deep freezer hunk of a son go absolutely fucking flying over a burning building at the end of the night. Steph who was there to get a bit more training with evacuating people out of a fire is attempting to chase Jason down, and is begging him to teach her of the comms.

Jason refuses to talk about his little flying act, and the only time he even considers teaching anyone is when Dick tells him it reminds him of his time at Hallys.

This leads to everyone trying to figure out how to get the flight that Jason does with his grapple gun, and it just isn’t working out. Dick thought he nearly got it before he went cascading for a nice trip through a billboard. Tim and Steph swore they figure it out, but their little hop onto the building only made the task seem more impossible. Damian swears he saw the Batman nearly take flight over a building, and instead ended up crushing an ac unit with his landing.

Jason is loving all of this of course. Watching his siblings and his dad fail horribly at gliding like he does is hilarious to him. It’s just a quick release of the grapple gun, and running up the side of the building for a bit of extra momentum. Of course he pushes himself up against the edge of the roof to really get that height, and if his family just filmed him they’d figure it out easy. Hell, he’s surprise Tim has broken out a camera, or hacked into the cities to watch him.

Cass had figured out how to do Jason’s glide a while ago, she found it helpful to maintaining her unknown presence while looking around on patrol. While she doesn’t like Jason a lot, she respects that this is his thing that he does on patrol, and she has no right going around spilling the trade secrets of the flying ex-robin.

[mamayura]

Okay but what's crazy is that the episode does subtly reveal that Adrien did keep it a secret from Marinette that he's more than silent jogging buddies with Sublime

In the beginning, Marinette says that when she asked Adrien if he and Sublime talk when they go running he always says "no". This is factually correct as we find out in the end through Sublime:

But there is obviously something not adding up here. Sublime literally says "Outside of running, of course Adrien and I talk". They just arent talking in any of their morning runs because Sublime in particular is doing it as serious training. So no talking because that would impact their breathing, but outside of that? Well, yeah, duh.

And that makes sense

Adrien and Sublime are in the same ancient Greek class, of course they would talk. I'm gonna go with the assumption that this is why Sublime started running by his side, because they vaguely knew each other from Greek class and when they crossed each others running paths one morning they were familiar enough to just run together in silence

Look, I- I dont know how to put this more elegantly, so I'll rip off the bandaid. The vibes I'm getting from this episode are that Adrien was more than cool with not talking anyway because he deliberately keep his friendship with Sublime a secret from Marinette because he knew Marinette would be weird about it and that made him uncomfortable.

He knows his girlfriend and she's peanut-butter-and-jealous.

And the thing is, as much as this certainly is a complicated topic with a lot of factors to consider for both sides, the way the episode had Marinette go about all this...

... the episode proved him RIGHT. He was right to be too uncomfortable with letting Marinette know about being friends with Sublime. She merely found out that they were running together in silence and proceeded to not only keep watching them each morning and taking photos, Marinette even proceeded to stalk the hell out Sublime:

No, this isnt normal. This isnt a "quirky girlfriend" thing to do, or "funny haha". Its one of the reason why Adrien didnt feel comfortable letting her know.

And, I mean, yeah. I can't blame him for it, can I? :I

Later on, Sublime is very quick to piece together that the girl hiding behind them is Adrien's girlfriend. Not the thing I would immediately go with, unless of course Adrien did already vaguely mention having a girlfriend to Sublime at one point. Then yes, her coming to this conclusion after Marinette followed her all day makes a lot more sense. Even if those are not.. nice implications. The episode does go on playing it straight at first that Marinette is the weird and a bit alarming girlfriend.

Look, you can pretty this up if you like, but for me, Adrien is clearly a solid bit uncomfortable and very apologetic here to Sublime because of Marinette's behavior. Sublime too is being nice about it to a degree you shouldnt take for granted. She would have had been perfectly justified in saying something else entirely. Adrien is trying to be a good boyfriend about this, but Marinette is out here proving him right in having struggled with wanting her to know about Sublime. Marinette has been following her around all day, Sublime noticed, and Adrien is doing good faith damage control here by telling Sublime that Marinette has good intentions and only wants to be her friend.

Something, though, that the episode clarified 3 times wasnt really the case:

It is so weird that at the core of the problem for both sides of Adrinette WAS Marinette being peanut-butter-and-jealous.

Marinette did NOT try to befriend Sublime out of some pure-hearted desire to know her. She did so because she feared that Adrien could end up not loving her anymore if she doesnt gain some control over the Sublime situation real quick

And Adrien DID keep his friendship with Sublime a secret from Marinette because, well, was he wrong?

And thats the thing. The episode just DROPS this in favor of saying that Marinette only had these pure-hearted intentions to know her when that isnt true. The episode proved Adrien alarmingly RIGHT in his gut feeling to keep Sublime a secret from Marinette, they just-

They just didnt let him know about any of it as if that makes it any less true. I would understand it if this episode had been entirely about tackling this issue for good. Adrien not being wrong for feeling uncomfortable with letting Marinette know about any new female friends and then Adrien gets proven right, but the situation is saved by Marinette's secondary desire of befriending Sublime.

Sure, not the plot of my choice, but I would GET IT because it would actually cover the given problem. Here it is... they didnt do it. Adrien was proven right, Marinette did everything wrong to Sublime that was possible and ended up breaking her prosthetic and ruined the sponsorship with a combo of Marinette's and Ladybug's harmful inconsideration.

Marinette did exactly what Adrien was afraid of... and they just DON'T resolve the initial Adrinette core of this issue. It's still ongoing. Marinette didnt even get to react in the end to finding out that Adrien did keep her in the dark about talking to Sublime:

I guess for now the explanation for that will be that Adrinette switched positions in this for once and now it's Marinette who isnt questioning it enough that Adrien only said the truth to her going by the technicality of "She only ask him if they talk while running".

Obviously, this is not how it works. He kept her in the dark. And whether he was right to doing so or not isnt important for the feeling I'm getting that this is just the beginning of a streak of similar problems like this. The postponed resolution to this will happen at a later point, and knowing Miraculous, they'll do it after it escalates to hell.

We already saw it in "Illustrhater" and the synopsis for "Werepapas" for example also sounds like Marinette will not stop here being a questionable girlfriend

I just dont understand why they would keep on DOING that?