#ladies gentlemen and those who are neither

[muffindaydream]

way back when, sometime after I finished my first playthrough of pokemon scarlet, I brought back some of my old OCs and completely re-made them because the brainrot reached critical mass...

didn’t wanna take the student route so I made my OCs academy faculty members instead (librarians)!

Their names are Raine and Fifi. Raine is a Contest Coordinator hopeful and Fifi is a Dark-type specialist who wants to become a trainer again after previously retiring.

Raine is one of my oldest OCs ever, so I really wish I could have done her justice and made more art for her, especially by completing her full-body ref. My chronic pain won yet again..

[aatrucyzine]

Ladies, gentlemen, and those who are both or neither......

The curtain rises for our grand show, Child of Magic! A FREE fanzine dedicated to everyone's favorite magician, TRUCY WRIGHT!

Inside you'll find 40+ pages of art, writing, and digital merch crafted lovingly by our lovely assistants, each masterfully perfecting their craft to create the grandest performance you may ever lay eyes on.

Tickets are on the house, be sure to thank your ushers and enjoy the show!

[svt-luna]

𝜗℘ HIS ENGLISH LOVE AFFAIR

❛ 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳. 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘪'𝘮 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳. ❜

timeline: 2019

synopsis: What starts as playful teasing quickly spirals into something deeper, where teasing words and lingering touches lead to a line neither of them can ever uncross.

wc: 17.4k

warnings: 18+ mdni, mature content, sexual content, smut, cursing, slightly slow burn, best friends to lovers, sexual tension, flirting, subtle innuendos, alcohol consumption, somewhat reckless driving, kisses!, first times, pet names, piv sex, unprotected sex (girly pop is on birth control), teasing, dirty talk, fingering, Jeonghan the menace, they are both freaky af, pure filth!

buckle up ladies and gentlemen… literally ❤️‍🔥 my first ever smut!! i hope you guys love it and please please please— I cannot stress this enough— please take time to read the warnings and the disclaimer before reading! other than that… enjoy! (yes, this was inspired by ‘English Love Affair’ by 5sos, so you guys can listen to that song as you read if you want.) (also send me one-shot requests you want to see in the future!)

Disclaimer: The following chapter contains explicit sexual content and mature themes. It is intended for adult readers only. If you are under the legal age or find these subjects uncomfortable, it is advised for you to refrain from reading further. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

Jeonghan had always taken pride in his composure.

He was the calm in any storm, the serene face in chaos, and the one who could hide his inner turmoil behind the effortless charm that had become his signature.

It was a skill he had honed over the years— a mask he wore with such ease that even his closest friends rarely saw beyond it. It wasn’t that he was emotionless; far from it. He felt everything deeply, but he had always mastered the art of controlling those feelings.

That was just who he was— unflappable, composed, always in control.

But that was before Luna.

The moment she stepped into his life, everything changed.

Luna had a way of breaking down his walls without even trying, a skill that no one else seemed to possess.

He could still remember the first time he saw her— those wide doe eyes filled with uncertainty as she stood in the PLEDIS practice room, the newest trainee among a sea of faces. Her nervous energy radiated off her, but there was something about her quiet determination that caught his attention.

It wasn’t just her looks or her talent, though those were undeniable.

No, it was the way she carried herself, the way she seemed to be holding a storm inside her, a storm she kept under tight control, especially during those grueling monthly evaluations. Her voice, raw and beautiful, would echo through the room, and each time, Jeonghan found himself captivated.

And then, of course, there were her smiles. The first time she smiled at him— truly smiled, not out of politeness or nerves but with genuine warmth— he felt something in him stir. It was a small thing, the way her lips curved upward, the way her eyes sparkled like she was letting him in on a secret only the two of them knew.

His heart had jumped that day, a flutter of something unfamiliar yet intoxicating, something he wasn’t used to. For a man who prided himself on control, that smile felt like a small crack in his carefully constructed armor.

But then, there was the night she confessed.

The memory of it still haunted Jeonghan even after a year or so, her voice quiet yet steady, the way her eyes, usually so bright, filled with heartbreak as he gently turned her down.

He had told her and himself it was for the team, for the sake of professionalism, but deep down, he knew the truth— it had been cowardice.

He was scared.

Scared of what it meant to feel something so intense for someone who was not only part of his world but essential to it.

And seeing the hurt in her eyes, the pain she tried so hard to mask, had been one of the hardest things he had ever done.

Now, as Jeonghan sat at the back of one of their favorite restaurants, watching the members celebrating Wonwoo’s birthday, that same ache returned, gnawing at his chest.

Luna was there, singing her pretty little heart out, a bright smile stretched across her face as she jumped up and down with the others. The room was filled with energy, everyone in high spirits as they belted out lyrics, glasses filled with alcohol raised in the air.

Their own private section, tucked away at the back of the restaurant, provided them privacy, but Jeonghan felt far from the noise as if his world had narrowed to just one person.

Luna.

Her hair flew wildly as she moved to the music, her laughter ringing out above the noise. She looked free— untethered, glowing under the dim restaurant lights, and Jeonghan couldn't help but stare. His eyes tracked her every movement, unable to look away, even though he knew he should. Her smile reached her eyes, that same real, unfiltered joy he hadn’t seen in a while.

It made his heart skip again, just like it always had.

He thought of the way she had looked at him when she confessed, the vulnerability in her eyes, and how, in this moment, she looked so different. So full of life, so happy, surrounded by people who adored her. She was singing, laughing, her body moving to the rhythm of the music, and yet all Jeonghan could do was sit there, glass in hand, silently fighting the urge to stand up and cross the room to her.

He swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the glass. His heart raced as memories of the past year flooded his mind— how he hadn’t stopped thinking about her since that night, how he had been too afraid to face his own feelings, and how, even now after a year, watching her from afar, the same fear still lingered in his chest.

But this time, something was different. Something had shifted. The control he had always taken such pride in was slipping, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to stop it.

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, the cool wood pressing against his back as he watched Luna across the room. He had always been composed, always the one in control, but ever since he realized he was indeed falling for her, his determination to fix things between them had only grown stronger.

He had spent the past year trying to return to normal, to recapture the easy friendship they once shared before the night she had confessed and he had rejected her.

And they had succeeded— there was no bad blood, no awkward tension. They laughed and joked as they always had, nothing between them felt forced or strained.

It was as if nothing had ever happened.

But that was what scared him the most.

Was this ease a sign that Luna had moved on? Or was she still pretending, masking her feelings as she always had, waiting for him to make the next move?

Jeonghan didn’t know if he should feel relieved or terrified by the prospect.

This past year, since his own realization, he had been more open about his feelings. He wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. He had been more touchy, letting his hands linger on her arm a second longer than necessary. He had been more clingy, finding reasons to stand close to her during practice or sit beside her at meals. And he had been flirting, playfully teasing her with lines that bordered on genuine affection.

Jeonghan had never denied her anything— anything she asked for, she got.

It hadn’t taken long for Luna to notice.

She wasn’t stupid; she was cautious, of course. She still had feelings for him— Jeonghan could see it in the way her gaze would linger on him, the slight quirk of her lips whenever he said something that surprised her— but she was guarded now.

She wasn’t about to let her heart get broken again.

Yet, despite her caution, Jeonghan could tell she was intrigued by his bolder approach, even drawn to it.

Luna was a little petty, too— he could see it in the way she played along, letting him dote on her, waiting to see where he would take things. She wanted him to work for it, and he couldn’t blame her. He had hurt her, and now he had to prove that he was serious.

Tonight, she looked like a vision, and Jeonghan couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Luna was dressed in a sleek black leather jacket that gleamed under the restaurant lights, cinched at the waist with silver studs. Beneath it, she wore a simple white tee, tucked into high-waisted black shorts that hugged her curves in a way that made his breath catch in his throat. Her legs, long and slender, were clad in sheer black tights, the material shimmering slightly as she moved, and her feet were adorned in knee-high black boots that gave her an edgy, dangerous air. A thin scarf, sequined and sparkling, was loosely tied around her neck, and her hair, an ashy grey color and wavy, cascaded over her shoulders, wild and free.

Her makeup was minimal, but it highlighted her features perfectly, bringing out the depth of her dark-brown eyes, the shape of her cheekbones, and the curve of her plump lips.

With everything else muted, her beauty shone brighter than ever. Jeonghan took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing pulse.

Jeonghan’s gaze raked over her form, slowly, deliberately, as he raised his glass to his lips and took another shot.

He tried to savor the taste, the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat, but all he could think about was her. He avoided drinking too much— he had driven to the restaurant tonight and needed to stay clear-headed— but his senses were already clouded by something much stronger than alcohol.

Luna.

Every fiber of his being was filled with her. She was all he could see as she danced, laughing and twirling with Hoshi, Dokyeom, and Seungkwan. Her laughter rang in his ears like a melody, her voice clear and bright as she sang along to the music, her body moving effortlessly to the beat.

Her perfume— sweet and expensive— lingered in the air around him, wrapping him in her scent, a constant reminder of her presence. He watched as her hand brushed against his arm, a fleeting, accidental touch as she spun past him, but it was enough to set his skin ablaze. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to focus, trying to steady the racing in his chest, but all he could feel was her.

Her energy, her warmth, her light.

There was only one thing missing.

Taste.

Jeonghan rolled the lingering flavor of the alcohol over his tongue, but it was becoming increasingly unsatisfying, especially as his gaze landed on the pink lollipop tucked between Luna’s lips.

She twirled it absentmindedly as she danced, the candy disappearing and reappearing from between her soft lips.

A pang of frustration swelled inside him as he watched, his mind drifting to thoughts he knew he shouldn’t be entertaining— not here, not now. But the longer he watched her, the more his control began to slip.

Soon, Luna finally separated from the whirlwind of dancing, her energy visibly spent, and finally peeled herself away from Hoshi, Seungkwan, and Dokyeom, who were still bouncing around like maniacs with boundless energy. Their bodies moved in sync with the beat, wild and free as if they were drawing energy from some endless well.

She stole one last glance at them, shaking her head with a smile as they flailed their arms in exaggerated dance moves.

Luna, however, had reached her limit. She could feel her heart racing, her legs trembling from the exertion, and her skin was glistening with a light sheen of sweat. Her own legs felt like jelly after keeping up with them for what felt like hours, her chest heaving slightly as she tried to catch her breath.

She laughed to herself as she made her way back to their table, where the rest of the members were seated, the ones who had wisely opted to sit back and enjoy the chaos rather than join in.

Jeonghan’s eyes hadn’t left her for a second. He watched the subtle rise and fall of her chest, the glisten of sweat along her neck, the lollipop twirling between her fingers.

As Luna approached, Seungcheol looked up, his gaze landing on her as he pointed and chuckled. “Tired already?” His voice held a teasing edge.

Luna plopped down into her seat next to Jeonghan, letting out an exaggerated sigh as she pulled the lollipop out of her mouth and pointed toward the trio still dancing like maniacs. “I don’t know how those three do it. That was my limit,” she chuckled, her voice breathless yet light.

The group chuckled softly as they watched Seungkwan throw his head back in wild laughter and Hoshi twist his body with far too much enthusiasm. Dokyeom’s arms were flailing in an exaggerated dance move, oblivious to the stares they were attracting.

“Those three could keep going for hours,” Vernon muttered, shaking his head as he looked over at them.

Luna let out a small, tired laugh, and as she settled into her seat, she felt Jeonghan’s presence beside her.

Jeonghan’s eyes were still locked on her, though. Everything else in the room seemed muted, the voices of their friends blending into the background. He admired the way her skin glowed under the soft lights of the restaurant, how her ash grey hair clung to her slightly damp neck from all the dancing.

Every inch of her was so effortlessly captivating.

He hadn’t stopped watching her since she sat down. His gaze was unrelenting, but not in a way that made her uncomfortable— rather, it was the kind of stare that seemed to pierce through all her usual defenses, a soft intensity that always left her feeling exposed.

Before she could think too much about it, Seungcheol, the ever-diligent leader, straightened up and glanced at the time on his phone. His expression shifted slightly, taking on that familiar responsible tone he always wore when it was time to get serious.

“We’ve been here for three hours,” he announced, his voice cutting through the noise just enough for the group to hear him. “It's late and we have work tomorrow. Plus, I think three hours of dancing is enough for one night.” He cast a glance toward the still-energetic trio with a knowing smirk.

The rest of the group groaned lightly but nodded in agreement. Seungcheol was right, as always. No matter how much fun they were having, they had responsibilities waiting for them in the coming days as they continued to prepare for their comeback with their new song ‘HIT’ next month.

As the leader gathered everyone, Luna, still catching her breath, felt Jeonghan’s presence beside her, his warmth radiating through the small space between them. It wasn’t just his proximity, though— there was something electric about how quiet he had been, his intense gaze fixated solely on her.

It was hard not to blush under his gaze— how long had he been watching her? But then again, she didn't mind being the center of his attention.

She could feel it, a tension in the air that wasn’t there before, and it made her skin tingle.

While Seungcheol was busy with the rest of the members, Jeonghan turned his attention back to Luna, his eyes softening as he leaned just a little closer to her. “You looked like you were having fun out there,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, that familiar lilt in his tone that always seemed to make her stomach do a tiny flip.

Luna huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head. “I was. Until I couldn’t feel my legs anymore,” she replied, her own voice quieter now as the noise around them seemed to dim slightly.

Jeonghan’s smile deepened, a small chuckle escaping him. “Pushing yourself too hard again?” he cooed softly, his voice dropping into that smooth, almost condescending tone he often used when he was in full dote-on-Luna mode.

It wasn’t harsh; it was gentle like he was speaking to a child who didn’t know their limits yet.

Luna rolled her eyes, but there was a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Someone had to keep up with Dokyeomie, and you certainly weren’t volunteering,” she shot back, her tone light but with a teasing edge.

Jeonghan’s eyes glinted with amusement, his hand coming to rest on the back of her chair. The casual gesture sent a shiver of warmth through her, but she kept her expression neutral.

“I’m just smart enough to know my limits,” he said smoothly, his voice dropping into a quieter, more intimate tone. “Unlike someone.”

She could feel the tension simmering between them— subtle, unspoken, but undeniably present. The way he was looking at her, the way his voice seemed to dip into that soft, almost velvety tone whenever he spoke to her— it was enough to make her heart race slightly faster, but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

“You’re always so full of wisdom,” she teased, letting out a small, tired laugh.

Jeonghan chuckled softly, his gaze dropping to her lips for the briefest second before meeting her eyes again. “You should listen to me more often,” he murmured, his voice now so low it was almost a whisper. “I only have your best interests at heart, Jiyeonie.”

"Mhm, I'm fine." Luna playfully rolled her eyes at him which Jeonghan caught considering he hadn't taken his eyes off her yet.

Jeonghan carefully eyed her seat and reached for the base and with one quick tug, he pulled her closer before turning his head slightly, his voice smooth and low as he leaned just a bit closer to her, his breath brushing against the shell of her ear. “Say whatever you want but you seem to have a hard time keeping up with them, Nana-ya,” he teased, his tone both condescending and affectionate, his words laced with a quiet, teasing chuckle.

He used that familiar pet name, one that made her heart skip in ways she tried to ignore.

Luna scoffed lightly, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips. “I was keeping up just fine, thank you very much.”

“Mm, sure you were.” Jeonghan’s voice was soft, but it was filled with amusement as he slowly turned toward her, his body shifting so he was facing her more directly.

His eyes gleamed mischievously, a spark of playful intent. “You should take care of yourself, hm? You should let me take care of you more,” he cooed softly, his tone dipping into that dangerously low, smooth register that always made her stomach twist.

Jeonghan wasn’t looking at her like a friend, not anymore, and it made her blood run warmer.

He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing against the side of her face as he spoke. His tone was so soft, so intimate, it made her heart race even though the words themselves were teasing.

The way he said it, like she was something fragile, something precious that needed looking after— it was disarming.

Luna raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly in her seat as if to regain some distance, though the playful glint in her eyes betrayed her. “You'll take care of me?” she repeated, her voice challenging but soft.

Jeonghan leaned in closer, his face just inches from hers now. The scent of his cologne— earthy, slightly musky, and so distinctly him— filled her senses.

“Since you’ve clearly been overexerting yourself. In practice too, you've been overworking yourself,” he said in that smooth, deep tone, his fingers lightly brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face, his touch feather-light yet deliberate. “You know how I hate seeing you tired, Jiyeonie.”

The way he spoke, the way his voice dropped into something so soft and intimate, made Luna’s pulse quicken. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, his eyes drinking in every detail of her face as if she were the only thing that mattered in the entire room.

The others were still laughing, still packing up, but to Jeonghan, none of it existed. There was only her.

Luna swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, though she fought to keep her composure. She knew him too well— knew that behind the teasing, there was something deeper. Something simmering beneath the surface.

“You’re really laying it on thick tonight, Han,” she teased back, her voice a bit quieter now, the nickname slipping out before she could stop herself. “Are you worried about me?”

Jeonghan eyes darkened slightly, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile as his gaze flickered down to her lips before slowly meeting her eyes again. “I always worry about you,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper now, intimate and deep.

His words hung in the air between them, thick with unspoken tension, the kind that made Luna’s breath catch in her throat.

She was drawn to it, to him, even though every rational part of her brain screamed at her to keep her guard up. But Jeonghan had a way of getting under her skin, making her want things she knew she shouldn’t.

Before she could reply, his hand brushed against hers, just a light, fleeting touch, but it was enough to send a jolt of electricity through her. She glanced down at their hands, the small contact sending her heart racing, but when she looked back up at him, his eyes were still fixed on hers, unrelenting, waiting.

“You’ve been acting strange lately,” she finally said, her voice quieter now, as if the weight of the moment was pressing down on her.

Jeonghan tilted his head slightly, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Strange? I thought I was always like this with you.” His tone was playful, but there was a seriousness behind his words, a truth he wasn’t ready to say outright.

Luna narrowed her eyes at him, though her lips twitched into a small smile. “No, you haven’t. Not like this.” She paused, her voice dropping lower, more serious. “What changed, Jeonghan?”

Luna knew what changed... she just wanted to hear it come out of his mouth… she needed to hear it.

The tension between them thickened, palpable, both of them fully aware of what wasn’t being said.

Before she could respond, their conversation was interrupted by the sudden noise of Seungcheol calling everyone to gather up. The leader’s voice cut through the moment like a knife, and Luna could feel the tension between her and Jeonghan dissipate as reality sank back in.

Jeonghan leaned back slightly, his hand still resting on the back of her chair as he gave her a small, knowing smile. “Looks like we’re being summoned,” he said softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

The rest of the group began to gather their things, Seungcheol rounding everyone up with the ease of someone used to managing chaos. Hoshi, Seungkwan, and Dokyeom finally stopped their dancing, though they were still buzzing with energy as they made their way over to the group.

“Come on,” Jeonghan murmured, standing up from his seat and offering Luna’s hand.

She took it without hesitation, letting him help her up from the chair, her legs still slightly wobbly from all the dancing. As they made their way to the exit, saying goodbye to everyone as they prepared to head home, Jeonghan kept close to her side.

They exchanged quiet goodbyes with the other members, Seungcheol reminding everyone to get some rest before they had to jump back into work the next day.

Once the farewells were done, Jeonghan gently guided Luna toward his car. “Come on,” he said softly, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back as he led her through the parking lot. “I didn’t drink much, I’ll drive us back.”

The air between them felt heavier now, quieter, as if the rest of the world had faded into the background, leaving only the two of them.

Luna didn’t protest as they reached his car, slipping into the passenger seat as Jeonghan closed the door behind her. The sound of the car door shutting felt final like they were cocooned in their own little world now, separated from the noise and energy of the night.

Jeonghan slid into the driver’s seat and started the car, the low hum of the engine filling the silence. As they pulled out of the parking lot, the city lights reflecting off the windows, the tension that had been simmering between them earlier seemed to settle back in, quiet but palpable.

The hum of the car engine blended with the soft pattern of rain beginning to fall against the windshield. The city lights blurred as droplets streaked across the glass, casting soft reflections inside the car. It was a peaceful silence but charged, like the calm before a storm. Everything felt heightened in this small space— the closeness, the warmth, the electricity between them that neither could ignore.

Luna had leaned back, her eyes lazily scanning the passing scenery as she twirled the lollipop in her mouth. Jeonghan’s hands rested lightly on the steering wheel, his focus on the road, but his attention clearly elsewhere.

Finally, Jeonghan broke the silence, his voice soft but cutting through the quiet like the first crack of thunder. “You really do push yourself too hard,” he murmured, the tone carrying both amusement and concern. He glanced sideways at her, just for a second, catching the way her lips tugged into a smile.

Luna turned her head to face him, the corners of her mouth lifting into a playful smirk. “You sound like a broken record,” she teased lightly, her voice tinged with laughter. “Have you forgotten you told me that already, or have you just got nothing new to say?”

Jeonghan chuckled a deep sound that filled the quiet car. “I’m just reminding you,” he said, his gaze flicking toward her briefly before returning to the road. “Someone has to take care of you.”

Luna snorted softly, shaking her head. “I think I’m doing fine. You should worry about yourself.”

“Me?” Jeonghan’s eyebrows lifted in mock offense. “I’m perfect.”

Luna rolled her eyes, the lollipop making a soft clack as she pulled it out of her mouth and pointed it at him. “You and your ego, I swear. If your head gets any bigger, you’ll need to get a bigger car.”

Jeonghan let out a soft laugh, eyes crinkling in amusement. “Please, Jiyeonie, you like it.”

She shot him a playful glare but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. “You think you know me so well.”

“I do,” he said confidently, his tone casual yet carrying a weight behind it. “I know you push yourself because you hate being the first to give up. You’d rather collapse than admit you’re tired.”

Luna blinked, surprised at how easily he’d read her, though she shouldn’t have been. Jeonghan always had a way of seeing through her, peeling back layers without even trying. She shrugged, trying to play it off. “Maybe.”

The rain started coming down heavier, drumming against the roof. The windshield wipers moved in a steady rhythm, slicing through the water, but it did nothing to cut through the thickening tension between them.

“You don’t have to impress anyone, Nana-ya,” Jeonghan said quietly, his tone softer now, more sincere. “Not even me.”

Luna felt a warmth spread through her at his words, but she masked it with a grin. “Who says I’m trying to impress you?”

Jeonghan glanced at her, a playful glint in his eyes. “Oh, so it’s just me then?”

Luna scoffed, crossing her arms. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Jeonghan smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “Too late.”

Luna groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Why do I even bother talking to you?”

“Because you love me,” he said simply, the teasing tone never leaving his voice.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

There was a pause in their conversation, a lull filled by the steady rhythm of rain against the windshield. The city lights blurred past them, casting soft reflections across Luna’s face, her features illuminated in a soft, almost ethereal glow

Jeonghan wasn’t sure what prompted him to say it— maybe it was the lingering effect of the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t help himself—but the words slipped out before he could stop himself.

“Have I told you that you look beautiful today?” Jeonghan asked, his tone casual as he changed the topic, almost too casual for the weight those words carried.

Luna’s head turned toward him, her eyebrows raising in surprise, though a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She pulled the lollipop from her mouth, twirling it between her fingers as she gave him a teasing look. “I don’t think you have,” she replied, her voice light, playful. “Is that something you’re just realizing now?”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, I’ve known it all night,” he said smoothly, his voice dipping into that soft, dangerously teasing tone he often used with her. “I just didn’t get around to saying it until now.”

Luna leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs as she twirled the lollipop stick absentmindedly. “Well, thank you for your delayed observation,” she said with a mock-serious nod. “I’m sure you’ve had plenty of time to admire me while I was dancing.”

He smiled, not denying it. “Trust me, I’ve been doing more than admiring.” His eyes glinted with mischief, though his voice remained steady and calm, the type of calm that made her heart skip a beat.

Luna rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help the warmth that spread across her cheeks. She looked out the window to hide the smile threatening to break across her face. “Always so smooth, Hannie.”

“You love it when I’m smooth,” he replied, his voice dipping lower, softer, as he glanced at her again. There was something different in his gaze this time—something that made the air between them feel heavier, more charged.

Luna’s smile faded slightly, though not from discomfort. There was something in the way he was looking at her, something that made her pulse quicken despite herself. She didn’t respond immediately, choosing instead to stare out at the rain as it blurred against the glass, her mind racing with thoughts she had tried to push aside for a long time.

Luna knew this game.

She knew how Jeonghan flirted— it was playful, light, teasing, always with a little smirk and a sparkle in his eyes. He had flirted with her before more so these last couple of months and she had always brushed it off, played along, knowing it didn’t mean anything.

But tonight felt different. There was something in the way his eyes lingered on her, the way his voice dropped into that dangerously low tone whenever he spoke to her. It made her stomach twist in ways that scared her.

She told herself it was just him being Jeonghan, that he hadn’t changed, that this was just how he was. But deep down, she couldn’t help but feel that something had shifted between them. She had seen it in the way he looked at her tonight, had felt it in the way he hovered near her during the party, the way his fingers brushed hers when he helped her out of her chair earlier.

It wasn’t just friendly. It was something more, something heavier, something that made her chest tighten with a mix of hope and fear.

And yet… Luna couldn’t help herself.

She was drawn to it, drawn to him.

Even though she had promised herself she wouldn’t let her heart win again, even though she had sworn to herself that she wouldn’t let her guard down, she was losing the battle.

It was impossible to resist Yoon Jeonghan, especially when he looked at her like she was the only person in the room— he had a way of making her feel like the center of his universe, even when he was surrounded by others.

It was intoxicating.

Dangerous.

But Bae Jiyeon was drawn to it all the same.

She knew she shouldn’t.

She knew it was risky, that letting herself fall again would only lead to heartache.

But as she sat there, feeling his eyes on her, feeling the warmth of his presence beside her, she wondered if maybe— just maybe— she was willing to take that risk again.

“You’re such a flirt. In fact, you’re bolder than normal,” Luna allowed herself to chuckle.

Jeonghan's fingers tightened on the steering wheel for a moment as her words lingered between them.

Where had this sudden boldness come from?

He didn't know.

Sure, he flirted, teased, and bantered with Luna— it was their dynamic, the rhythm they’d fallen into after years of knowing each other.

But something about these past few months and more so tonight felt different.

Maybe it was the few drinks he’d had earlier, loosening his inhibitions just enough to say the things he’d been holding back. Or maybe it was desperation, the realization that he had been skirting around his feelings for far too long.

Maybe it was because they were alone, away from the rest of the group, the tension between them simmering just beneath the surface.

Maybe it was the way she looked tonight and every day— beautiful, radiant like she didn’t even realize the effect she had on him.

Maybe it was just her.

Maybe it had always been her.

He had always been good at hiding his emotions, at keeping things under wraps, but with Luna… it was different.

She had a way of breaking through his defenses without even trying. He could still remember the way she looked at him when she confessed last year— the heartbreak in her eyes when he rejected her. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but he had. And he’d been thinking about it ever since.

Or maybe it was the fact that he was tired of pretending he didn’t feel something for her, something more than friendship.

He had spent so long avoiding this, avoiding her, because he was scared. Scared of what it would mean if he admitted to himself that he had feelings for her.

But sitting here, in this small, quiet space with the rain falling softly around them, he felt like he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He was drawn to her— had always been drawn to her— but tonight, it was different.

Whatever it was, he was allowing himself to be a little reckless.

The rain intensified, the rhythmic sound growing louder as they drove through the quiet streets back to the dorm. The world outside the car was dark and blurred, but inside, the tension was so thick it felt like something tangible.

Every second they spent in this small, enclosed space made the air feel heavier, more charged. Jeonghan could feel it in every breath, in every glance she threw his way.

Tonight, he was ready to risk it.

He wasn’t sure how he had managed to keep himself in check for so long, because right now, all he wanted was her.

Jeonghan cleared his throat, his voice dropping lower as he spoke. “You know, I wasn’t lying when I said you look beautiful. I wasn’t just saying that to flatter you,” he murmured, his tone soft but deliberate. “You really do look beautiful tonight.”

“Mm… thank you,” Luna said as she shifted in her seat slightly, pulling her legs up underneath her as she leaned against the car door.

Jeonghan glanced at her again, his heart skipping a beat when he saw her looking back at him and for a moment, he was gone. She was smiling softly, her eyes bright despite the late hour, her lips still stained from the lollipop she had been playing with all night.

And in that moment, Jeonghan realized he was a goner.

Completely and utterly lost.

The way she looked bathed in the faint glow of the dashboard lights, her lips curling around her words, her eyes dancing with mischief. The subtle scent of her perfume filled the car, a warm and intoxicating mix that tugged at his senses.

Luna was talking, her voice a tantalizing melody yet Jeonghan couldn’t make out what she was saying— he was…. completely and utterly lost. And then, her hand— the gentle, casual touch as she caressed his shoulder while she talked, sending a jolt through his chest like a spark had just ignited something inside him.

How was he supposed to concentrate on driving when every part of him was tuned into her?

Jeonghan realized, with a sudden, amused thought, that there were a few things you absolutely shouldn’t do while driving: use your phone, be drunk, speed recklessly… and have Bae Jiyeon sitting in your passenger seat.

It was dangerous.

The kind of danger that made him wonder if he was more likely to crash the car from being so utterly distracted by her.

Jeonghan’s grip on the wheel tightened as he forced himself to focus on the road ahead. But then he glanced at her again, and his breath caught for a second.

Luna was watching him— no, she was staring at him with a smug look in her eyes, as if she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

Of course, she knew. She always knew.

That smugness in her expression, the way her lips twitched as if she was enjoying watching him squirm— it was maddening.

Luna was enjoying this. Petty as she could be, she was reveling in the way he was slowly unraveling under her gaze.

And just like that, Luna decided to throw all of her fucks out the window.

“Am I going to be the cause of our collective demise once you crash this car?” Luna chuckled as she addressed Jeonghan’s focus on her despite driving.

“You think this is funny?” he muttered, his voice low, laced with that familiar teasing edge. He didn’t even try to hide the amusement in his tone, despite the frustration simmering underneath.

Luna twirled the lollipop in her mouth, the little pink candy rotating lazily as she continued to stare at him, her eyes glinting mischievously.

She didn’t even bother to answer him— just smirked and leaned back in her seat as if she had already won this silent game they were playing.

There was something in the way she was looking at him now— something deeper than just their usual playful banter. He could feel the heat of her gaze, the way her eyes seemed to trace over him as if she was daring him to do something.

The tension was unbearable, every word they exchanged adding to the weight of it.

Jeonghan knew, at that moment, that any shred of morality or self-restraint he had left was being thrown out the window.

He couldn’t help himself anymore, not when she was looking at him like that, not when every nerve in his body was on fire from just being near her.

He glanced at her again, and this time, he didn’t hold back the flirtation in his voice. “Nana-ya…” he started, his tone smooth, dangerously soft. “If you keep looking at me like that, we might have a problem.”

Luna raised an eyebrow, her eyes gleaming with challenge as she continued to twirl the lollipop in her mouth. “Oh?” she murmured, feigning innocence, though the glint in her eyes told him she was anything but. “And what kind of problem would that be?”

Jeonghan’s eyes flicked toward her briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “The kind where I stop caring about the road entirely and start caring about something else.”

The implication hung in the air between them, thick with the tension neither of them was willing to fully acknowledge yet.

Luna giggled, leaning back against the seat, twirling the lollipop between her fingers like she was playing with the moment. “You’re such a flirt, Hannie,” she said, shaking her head slightly. Her voice was light, but there was a warmth there, something knowing as if she was fully aware of the effect she had on him.

“And you love it,” Jeonghan shot back, his tone a mix of teasing and certainty.

He wasn’t even asking— it was a fact between them.

Luna tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Maybe I do,” she admitted, licking her lips as she discarded the stick. “But don’t let it go to your head.”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel. “Too late,” he cooed, his voice slipping into that condescending tone again, the one he knew always made her roll her eyes. “I think you like it when I tease you, Jiyeonie.”

She glanced at him from the side, the soft glow from the dashboard lights catching in her eyes. “And I think you talk too much,” she retorted, though her smile betrayed her.

“Do I?” Jeonghan’s voice dipped lower, softer, almost a whisper as he added, “I think you like it when I talk to you like this.”

Luna shifted in her seat, crossing her arms and giving him a side-eye. “You think a lot of things, don’t you?”

He grinned at her defiance, leaning slightly toward her as he replied, “And I’m usually right, aren’t I?”

Luna let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she watched the rain streak across the windshield. “You’re impossible.”

“Mm,” Jeonghan hummed, his voice a lazy drawl. “But you’re still here.”

“Who would you gawk at if I wasn’t?” Luna smirked.

The rain picked up, soft at first, then heavier, drumming on the windshield in rhythm with Jeonghan's increasingly erratic thoughts. The world outside was blurred, the soft streetlights hazy in the downpour, but inside the car, the tension was palpable.

Jeonghan's fingers tightened around the steering wheel as if holding on for dear life, not because of the rain, but because of the woman sitting next to him, practically radiating smug confidence.

Luna's presence was overwhelming, and the teasing glint in her eyes felt like a challenge he wasn't sure he could resist.

Her fingers idly twirled the lollipop in her mouth. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, and the maddening part was how much she was enjoying every second of it. Her smirk, and her playfulness all gnawed at him in the best and worst ways possible.

Everything about her posture screamed cat-that-got-the-canary— as if she knew exactly how close Jeonghan was to cracking.

If only he knew what would happen if he did.

“Brat,” Jeonghan let out a sharp breath through his nose, trying to focus on the road ahead, though it was becoming increasingly impossible. Every glance her way made his pulse quicken, made the frustration in him grow.

And then, without thinking, his hand left the wheel.

It was quick, almost instinctual, like gravity had pulled him toward her. His palm landed on her thigh-firm, commanding-sending a jolt of heat up her leg. His fingers splayed against the soft fabric of her sheer black tights, the warmth of her skin radiating through the material. His touch was possessive, but his grip remained gentle as if he was testing the boundaries, daring her to stop him.

Luna's breath hitched, just slightly, but she didn't push his hand away. Instead, she shifted in her seat, just enough to press into his touch, amplifying the tension that had already settled thickly between them.

Her eyes flicked down to where his hand rested, then back up to his face, and she bit her lower lip, a smirk still tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Hannie," she practically purred, her voice sweet but laced with mischief. "Is that really the safest thing to do while driving?"

Jeonghan's fingers flexed against her thigh, a slow, deliberate movement that made her feel the weight of his touch even more. He tilted his head toward her, eyes dark and heavy-lidded, the playful tone from before replaced with something deeper, something more intense. His voice came out in a low, velvety murmur.

"Safe?" he repeated, his lips curling into a dangerous smile. "I am holding onto you for safety, Jiyeonie."

Luna's eyes glimmered with challenge, her heartbeat quickening, though she'd never let him know it. She leaned in slightly, her hand drifting toward his arm, her fingertips brushing against his wrist where it rested on her leg. Her voice was just as teasing, if not more, as she shot back, "You seem awfully distracted for someone who's supposed to be focused on the road."

Jeonghan chuckled under his breath, the sound soft and low, the kind of laugh that sent a shiver down her spine. "I am distracted," he admitted, his thumb now tracing a lazy circle on her thigh. His eyes darted from the road back to her, his gaze heavy with desire. "You're not exactly helping, pretty girl."

Luna's lips curved into a smirk, one that practically dared him to go further. "Focus, Hannie," she teased, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jeonghan shot her a look, one eyebrow raised, clearly amused by her brattiness.

"I’m focused," he said smoothly, his voice dropping even lower. He squeezed her thigh slightly, his fingers pressing in just enough to make her gasp, though it was clear from the look in her eyes that she loved it.

The rain continued to pour, the rhythmic sound of droplets against the windshield only adding to the charged atmosphere inside the car. The world outside was quiet, but inside, the storm between them was brewing, and neither of them seemed interested in calming it.

Luna's heartbeat quickened as she shifted in her seat again, crossing her legs, which only served to push his hand higher up her thigh. She gave him a sideways glance, the corner of her mouth lifting in a taunting smile. "Big talk for someone who's barely keeping his eyes on the road."

Jeonghan's jaw clenched slightly, though there was no anger behind it— just the overwhelming desire to wipe that smug look off her face. He could feel the heat rising between them, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating.

But God, did he love it.

There was something about the way Luna teased him, the way she pushed and pushed until he was at the edge of his control. And maybe that was why he never stopped her. Maybe he wanted her to push him past his limits. Maybe he wanted to see just how far he could fall before losing himself completely

Without thinking, his hand slid further up her thigh, his fingertips brushing against the seam of her shorts, the movement slow, deliberate, teasing. His voice was a soft purr as he spoke, his lips barely moving.

"Do you really want to keep testing me, Bae Jiyeon?"

Luna let out a soft, breathy laugh, her lips curling into a devilish smile. "Why not?" she shot back, her voice playful but challenging. "It's fun watching you angry. I rarely get to see you even remotely pissed off.”

Jeonghan's grip tightened ever so slightly, his fingers digging into her skin, but the way his eyes darkened told her everything she needed to know. He was close— so close to giving in to whatever dangerous game they were playing. His thumb brushed lightly against the inside of her thigh, a barely-there touch that sent a shiver down her spine.

The car slowed as they neared finally reached the dorm, the streetlights casting long shadows on the wet pavement. The rain had picked up, turning into a torrential downpour, the sound of it filling the space between them.

But the tension— the crackling, electrifying tension-remained. Neither of them said a word as Jeonghan pulled into the parking lot, the engine's hum cutting off as he switched off the ignition before removing his seatbelt.

For a moment, they sat in silence, the rain hammering against the roof of the car, the only sound between them. Jeonghan's hand still rested on her thigh, his grip firm but not uncomfortable. He turned to face her, his eyes dark and unreadable as they locked onto hers.

Luna met his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. The playful banter was gone, replaced by something heavier, something far more dangerous. Her pulse raced as she waited, the silence between them thick with anticipation.

And then, without a word, Jeonghan leaned in. His breath was warm against her skin, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers as he whispered, "Do you know you make me go insane?”

Luna's breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering in her chest. Her lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, she just stared at him, her pulse quickening as she felt the heat of his body so close to hers.

Jeonghan's eyes flicked down to her lips, then back up to her eyes, a slow smile curling at the corners of his mouth. "But I think you already knew that, didn't you?"

Luna swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper as she replied, "Maybe. But I like hearing you say it."

Jeonghan's smile widened, his hand tightening ever so slightly on her thigh as he whispered, "Then I'll say it as many times as you want."

Luna's breath hitched, her pulse racing as she felt the tension between them reach its breaking point. But before either of them could say another word, the sound of the rain grew louder, drowning out everything else.

And in that moment, it wasn't the storm outside that threatened to consume them— it was the storm brewing between them, one that neither of them seemed willing to stop.

Jeonghan's breath was hot against Luna's face, his voice dropping into that intoxicating whisper that sent shivers racing up her spine. "What else do you want to hear me say, hm?"

His lips hovered dangerously close to hers, his words soft but laced with that infuriating, devastating sweetness that he always seemed to use to unravel her.

Luna sat frozen in her seat, the weight of his gaze holding her captive as her heart pounded wildly in her chest.

She couldn't speak.

Couldn't move.

She could only stare back at him, helpless beneath the intensity in his eyes, the heat of his breath against her skin making her dizzy.

And Jeonghan noticed it all.

The way she was falling apart under him, the way her lips parted just slightly but no words came out, the way her chest rose and fell with each unsteady breath.

It made him smirk, that familiar, cocky smile that she loved and hated at the same time.

He knew what he was doing to her. He always did.

He took pride in being the only one to make the big, bad, and confident Bae Jiyeon crumble.

His hand slid from her thigh to her cheek, his fingers brushing against her skin with such a delicate touch, as though he were savoring the moment, every second of it.

His thumb grazed her bottom lip, sending a jolt of electricity straight through her body.

"Wanna hear how breathtaking you are?" Jeonghan's voice was soft, teasing, but there was something darker underneath— something deeper. "How much I love hearing your voice?" His fingers tangled in her hair as his thumb stroked her jaw. "How sweet you smell, Jiyeonie?"

Speechless.

Luna was utterly speechless.

“Anything. I’ll say anything for you, however much you want, pretty angel. Just tell me.”

Jeonghan said it all in that baby-talk voice that always drove her crazy, soft and low and teasing. The tone wrapped around her like a warm blanket, lulling her into a state of pure intoxication. Every word felt like a caress, every breath of his like a temptation.

He was ruining her, and he knew it.

Luna couldn't help herself. She leaned back against the door of the car, her head resting on the window as she stared at him, mesmerized. His fingers trailed through her hair, and his eyes were dark, filled with something she couldn't quite place— scanned every inch of her face, lingering on her lips.

She didn't know how it had come to this.

How she had gone from playful banter to this suffocating, unrelenting tension that made her feel like she was on the edge of something dangerous, something that once started, neither of them could take back.

But maybe she didn't want to take it back.

Jeonghan leaned in closer, his lips inches from hers as he tilted his head, his gaze dropping to the lollipop stick still hanging from her mouth. "Always wanted to know what it tastes like," he murmured, his voice smooth, almost playful.

For a split second, a dumb part of Luna thought he meant the lollipop itself, and her mind raced to think of a witty comeback. But before she could say anything, Jeonghan's hand reached up, gently pulling the stick from her lips, his eyes never leaving hers.

And then, without another word, his fingers caught her chin between them, holding her still as he leaned in closer.

It happened so quickly and so slowly all at once. One second, he was hovering in front of her, teasing her with the nearness of his lips. The next, his mouth was on hers, capturing her in a kiss that stole the breath from her lungs and sent her heart into a freefall.

The first touch of his lips against hers was soft, and tentative, like he was testing the waters. But then, when he felt her lips part beneath his when he heard the soft, almost inaudible gasp that escaped her— he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding to the back of her neck as he pulled her closer.

For years, they had danced around this moment. Years of stolen glances, of teasing words and almost-touches. Years of denying what they both knew was there, simmering beneath the surface, too dangerous to acknowledge.

But now, with the rain pouring down around them, the car windows fogging up from the heat of their breath, and the tension that crackled between them like electricity— there was no more denying it.

Jeonghan's lips moved against hers with a softness that belied the intensity of the feelings that had been building up inside him for so long. His fingers tangled in her hair, tugging gently as his other hand slid down her neck, caressing the skin there before resting just above her collarbone.

Luna's mind was a blur, her thoughts spinning as she melted into him, her body reacting instinctively to the heat of his touch. She had imagined this moment so many times— late at night, when she couldn't sleep, wondering what it would feel like to finally close the distance between them. But nothing could have prepared her for the reality of it.

Nothing could have prepared her for the way his lips felt against hers, soft but demanding or the way his hand cradled the back of her head like she was something precious. The way his breath hitched when she responded when she kissed him back with just as much hunger as if she had been waiting for this just as long as he had.

At that moment, everything else fell away— the rain, the car, the world outside. All that mattered was him, the taste of his lips, the warmth of his hand on her skin.

All the years of pining, of holding back, of pretending they didn't feel what they did— it all dissolved in the heat of the kiss.

Jeonghan groaned softly, the sound vibrating against her lips as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss even further. His fingers tightened in her hair, pulling her closer as if he couldn't bear the thought of even an inch of space between them.

Luna's hands found their way to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer, her body arching toward him instinctively. The kiss was everything she had imagined and more fiery, desperate, filled with years of pent-up longing.

And yet, there was a softness to it, too. A tenderness in the way his thumb brushed her cheek, in the way his lips softened against hers as if he was savoring every second of it.

Her mind was spinning, her heart pounding in her chest as they kissed, the sound of the rain outside only intensifying the moment, creating a cocoon of intimacy around them. This kiss was more than just a kiss— it was a culmination of everything that had been building between them for years.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they panted softly, the air between them thick with the weight of what had just happened.

Jeonghan's hand was still cradling her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek as he stared down at her, his dark eyes filled with something she couldn't quite place.

"Jiyeon-ah," he whispered, his voice rough, his breath warm against her lips. He didn't say anything else—he didn't need to.

Everything he was feeling was written in the way he looked at her, in the way his fingers trembled slightly as they brushed against her skin.

Luna's heart was still racing, her mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened. But when she met his gaze, saw the vulnerability in his eyes, she knew.

This wasn't just a moment. This was everything they had been denying, everything they had been too afraid to acknowledge.

Jeonghan didn’t waste a second. As soon as the kiss broke, his lips still tingling from the warmth of hers, he popped the lollipop he was still holding in between his fingers back into his mouth with a smirk, tasting the lingering sweetness that seemed insignificant compared to the taste of her lips.

Without a word, he grabbed her purse from the back seat and pushed open his door, stepping out into the pouring rain.

The downpour was relentless, soaking him to the bone the moment he left the car, but he didn’t care. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his clothes sticking to his skin as he jogged around the front of the car, his shoes splashing in the puddles that had formed beneath him. The rain chilled him, but the heat still simmering in his veins from their kiss overpowered the cold.

Luna was still frozen in her seat, her mind reeling from the intensity of what had just happened.

The taste of Jeonghan's kiss was still fresh on her lips, her pulse racing, every nerve ending in her body on fire. She hadn’t even noticed that Jeonghan had left the car, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts as she replayed the feel of his lips, the way his hand had tangled in her hair, the way he had kissed her like he was claiming her.

She was only brought back to reality when the passenger door opened with a wet, metallic groan, and Jeonghan, drenched and dripping, crouched down to meet her wide-eyed gaze.

His eyes were dark, filled with something unreadable as his hands moved to her seatbelt, carefully unclipping it before leaning in just enough for her to catch the scent of rain and his cologne, now mingling with the smell of wet clothes “Come on,” he murmured, his voice still rough from the kiss.

His fingers found hers, intertwining with them as he gently but firmly pulled her out of the car and into the rain.

The cold rain hit her like a shock, drenching her instantly as her shoes splashed into a puddle beside the curb. She barely had time to register the chill because Jeonghan’s hand tightened around hers, pulling her toward the dorm entrance with a sense of urgency like he couldn’t bear to be apart from her for even another second.

They sprinted through the rain, hand in hand, as it poured relentlessly, drenching both of them until their clothes clung to their bodies. Luna’s breath came in quick, ragged gasps, her heart still hammering from the kiss, from the feel of Jeonghan’s fingers tightly gripping hers.

By the time they reached the dorm building’s entrance, they were soaked, water dripping from their hair and clothes, but neither of them seemed to care.

Jeonghan pulled open the door with one swift motion, leading her inside, their footsteps echoing off the tiled floor as they hurried toward the elevator. As soon as the elevator doors slid shut, the tension snapped back into place, stronger and more electric than before.

The rain had done nothing to cool the heat simmering between them. If anything, it had only intensified it.

Jeonghan stood there for a second, his chest rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths, his wet hair sticking to his forehead, and water droplets running down his face.

And then, without warning, he yanked the lollipop from his mouth and threw it carelessly to the floor of the elevator, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her knees go weak.

In one swift motion, he grabbed her by the waist and pushed her back against the elevator wall, his body pressing against hers, pinning her in place. His lips crashed into hers again, desperate, hungry, like he couldn’t wait another second to taste her again.

Luna’s hands flew to his chest, fingers curling into the wet fabric of his shirt as she kissed him back just as desperately, just as hungrily. The heat between them was unbearable, the feel of his body against hers, the taste of his lips— everything about him was overwhelming her senses, and she couldn’t get enough.

Between kisses, Jeonghan’s breath was ragged, his voice low and rough. “God, I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

Luna’s response was a soft gasp as his hand slid up her side, pressing her closer against the wall. “Han– oppa…”

He kissed her again, cutting off her words, his lips moving against hers with a fierce intensity. “You don’t even know how much I wanted this, Jiyeonie,” he whispered, his breath hot against her mouth as he pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes dark with desire.

Luna couldn’t speak.

Couldn’t think.

All she could do was feel— the heat of his body, the way his fingers dug into her waist, the way his lips moved against hers, demanding and relentless. She had dreamed of this moment for so long, imagined it in a thousand different ways, but nothing could compare to the real thing.

Nothing could compare to the way Jeonghan kissed her like he was starving like he needed her to breathe.

The elevator dinged, the sound almost lost in the haze of their kiss. Jeonghan pulled away just long enough to glance at the floor number before a mischievous smirk tugged at his lips. He grabbed her hand again, yanking her out of the elevator as the doors opened.

Their footsteps were hurried as they made their way to his apartment, water still dripping from their clothes and hair. Without a second thought, Jeonghan typed his password, fumbling slightly as he unlocked the door in his haste.

The moment it swung open, he pulled her inside, slamming the door shut behind them with a loud thud, locking it in one fluid motion. Before Luna could even catch her breath, Jeonghan had her pressed up against the door, his hands braced on either side of her head as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against hers again, teasing.

“You’re staying here with me tonight, okay?” he murmured, his voice soft, but the heat in his eyes was unmistakable.

Luna barely had time to nod before his lips were on hers again, his hands sliding down her waist, pulling her flush against him as if he couldn’t stand the thought of any space between them.

The intensity of the kiss made her dizzy, her body reacting on instinct, her hands tangling in his soaked hair as she kissed him back with equal fervor. They were both drenched, clothes sticking to their skin, hair dripping water onto the floor, but none of it mattered.

All that mattered was this— this moment, this kiss, this connection that had been building for years, finally unleashed with a force neither of them could control.

Jeonghan’s hand slid up her side, fingers grazing her wet skin beneath her soaked shirt, making her shiver despite the heat between them. His lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw, down to her neck, where he left a trail of soft, teasing kisses, his breath warm against her skin.

Luna’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening in his hair as her head tilted back, giving him more access. “Hannie…” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, her mind spinning from the overwhelming sensation of his touch, his lips, his body pressed so firmly against hers.

“Nana-ya…” he hummed back, his voice rough and filled with so much emotion, so much want, that it made her knees buckle beneath her. “I’m never letting you go after this. You know that right?”

Jeonghan couldn’t get enough of her— her taste, her scent, the way she fit so perfectly in his arms. Every kiss was deeper, more desperate like he had been waiting for this moment his entire life.

His hand slid beneath her shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist, feeling the way her body trembled under his touch. He pressed his lips to the soft skin of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her, a mix of rain, shampoo, and something uniquely Luna.

God, she’s perfect.

He couldn't help the thought that ran through his mind, as if seeing her, feeling her like this, up close, made him realize just how breathtaking she truly was. Every inch of her, from the way she gasped softly at his touch to the way her hands clung to him as though he was the only thing keeping her grounded, drove him mad with need.

Luna’s mind was a mess, her body responding to him in ways she hadn’t imagined. Every brush of his lips on her skin sent a shiver down her spine, and the way his hands roamed over her like he was memorizing her made her heart race uncontrollably.

She’d dreamed of this moment countless times— of Jeonghan looking at her the way he was now, touching her like he couldn’t get enough. But now that it was happening, it was so much more than she ever imagined.

He’s really here. This is really happening.

His hands, his mouth, the way he said her name— it all felt too good to be real like she was living in some fantasy she had conjured. But the heat of his breath against her neck, the way his body pressed into hers, was too intense to be anything but reality. And now that they had crossed this line, she didn’t want to stop.

She didn’t want to think about the consequences, the risks, or the years they had tiptoed around their feelings.

All she wanted was Jeonghan.

Jeonghan’s lips moved back up to her mouth, capturing her in another deep, urgent kiss. His hand slid further under her shirt, his thumb brushing against her ribs, drawing a soft gasp from her lips.

“I hated what I did to you— I shouldn’t have lied to you about my feelings,” he murmured against her lips, his voice low, almost a growl.

Luna’s heart skipped a beat, her hands tightening their grip on his damp shirt. She looked into his eyes, breathless, her lips still tingling from his kiss. “Then why did you?” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her eyes searched his, wanting to understand why he had kepthis feelings to himself for so long.

Jeonghan's eyes darkened slightly as he rested his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers in the small space between them. "I was scared," he confessed softly, his voice tinged with something between regret and longing.

But not anymore, Jeonghan thought to himself, feeling the weight of all the unspoken words they had left hanging in the air for years.

He had been so careful, so patient, but now that he had her here, now that he had tasted what they could be together, there was no going back.

Jeonghan can't let her go. Not now.

Luna’s heart ached at his words, but a part of her understood.

They had always been so careful, always so focused on the group, on protecting what they had built together. But she couldn’t stop the pang of frustration that crept in. They had wasted so much time, so many years dancing around each other, denying what was always there, just beneath the surface.

“We could have had this sooner,” she murmured, her voice barely audible as she cupped his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek.

Jeonghan leaned into her touch, closing his eyes briefly, savoring the warmth of her hands on his skin. “I know,” he breathed out, his lips brushing against hers again, softer this time, almost tender. “But I was afraid… of how much I wanted you.”

Those words sent a fresh wave of heat through her, her body reacting instantly to the intensity in his voice.

She didn’t think she could want him more than she already did, but somehow, hearing him admit that he had been holding back for so long only made her desire for him stronger.

Jeonghan’s hands slid up her sides, pushing the wet fabric of her shirt higher, his fingers skimming the bare skin of her stomach. “You’re driving me crazy, Bae Jiyeon,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and desire as his lips found hers again, their kiss deeper, more urgent than before.

Luna’s hands slipped into his hair, tugging him closer as she kissed him back with equal fervor, her mind racing with the realization that they were finally here, that everything they had held back for so long was finally pouring out between them, unstoppable, uncontrollable.

“I don’t want to stop,” Jeonghan whispered against her lips, his hands trembling slightly as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. “I don’t think I can.”

Luna’s heart pounded in her chest as she looked up at him, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “Then don’t,” she whispered back, her voice filled with the same desperation, the same need that had been building between them for years.

Jeonghan’s eyes darkened at her words, his hand sliding into her hair as he kissed her again, harder this time, more possessive. His other hand trailed down her side, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

Every kiss, every touch, felt like a promise— one that neither of them was willing to break. The world outside their bubble no longer existed. It was just them— Jeonghan and Luna— finally giving in to the undeniable connection they had tried so hard to resist for years.

The heat between them was unbearable, and consuming, and neither of them cared about the consequences anymore.

They had waited long enough.

Jeonghan's lips were relentless, his hands roaming over her with a desperation that mirrored her own. Luna's fingers curled into his hair, tugging gently as she kissed him back with equal fervor. They had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was here, neither of them wanted it to end.

Jeonghan's hands slid down her back, pulling her even closer as if he wanted to merge their bodies into one. Luna's breath hitched as she felt his desire matching her own, his lips moving against hers with a hunger that left her dizzy.

His touch was electric, his kisses like a drug she couldn't get enough of. She wanted more— needed more of him.

Their kisses grew deeper, more intense as if they were trying to communicate everything they had left unsaid for years through their touch alone.

Luna's hands roamed over his chest, and his shoulders, memorizing the feel of him, the warmth of his skin. Jeonghan's fingers traced patterns on her back, his lips trailing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

Jeonghan pulled away slightly, his breath still mingling with hers, his eyes searching her face for any sign of hesitation.

The tension between them still buzzed in the air, but now there was a softness there, a quiet moment of clarity that hung heavy between their shared breaths. His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing gently against her skin as if he was grounding himself in her presence, ensuring she was okay.

“Jiyeon…” Jeonghan’s voice was soft now, barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of everything that had happened between them over the years. “If we do this…” He paused, his dark eyes locking with hers, the intensity in them impossible to miss. “You’re mine.”

There it was— Jeonghan’s possessiveness laid out in a simple, yet potent statement.

It wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t a plea.

It was a declaration, one that carried the kind of certainty that had always been a part of him, but now it was directed solely at her.

His gaze didn’t waver, waiting for her response.

For a moment, Luna just blinked, still catching her breath, feeling the heat of his words settling into her. She could feel the intensity of his claim, but it didn’t faze her— she wasn’t the type to be overwhelmed. If anything, it only fueled her.

A small, almost mischievous smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she tilted her head slightly, her eyes gleaming with that familiar spark of defiance he loved so much.

“Yours, huh?” She raised an eyebrow, voice dripping with that quick wit and teasing edge she wielded so well. “Last I checked, I don’t remember signing any contracts.”

Jeonghan let out a breathy chuckle, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw. “Oh, I’m pretty sure you signed it the moment you let me kiss you,” he cooed, his tone smooth and teasing, though there was no mistaking the seriousness underlying his words. “But if you need a reminder, I can always make it official.”

Luna’s heart raced as he spoke, the familiar push and pull between them sending her mind into overdrive. She liked the way he challenged her, the way he never let her have the last word easily.

But she wasn’t about to back down. Her eyes narrowed playfully, and she leaned in just a little, her voice dropping into a near whisper as she fired back, “You’ll have to convince me, Hannie.”

Jeonghan grinned, leaning his forehead against hers as a soft laugh escaped him, the warmth of it rolling through the charged air between them. “That’s what I love about you,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, soft and almost condescending in its teasing tone. “You never make it easy.

Jeonghan tilted his head slightly, his breath brushing against her lips again, his fingers gently stroking her cheek as he leaned in, the weight of his words sinking in deeper. “But I wasn’t asking you to make it easy. I like a challenge.” His voice was almost a purr now, each word laced with the kind of softness that only he could pull off while still holding all the control.

“I always win in the end anyway.”

Luna felt a shiver run down her spine at his words, the sensation of his breath on her skin and the teasing tone in his voice doing things to her that she couldn’t fully explain.

Her witty retort died on her tongue, and for the second time today in their back-and-forth, she found herself at a loss for words, simply staring into his eyes.

And Jeonghan knew it— he saw the way her resolve wavered, just for a second, and his smirk deepened, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip.

“What’s wrong, pretty girl?” he cooed softly, his voice dripping with that condescending baby talk he knew always got to her. “Hm? You okay?”

Luna’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching as she struggled to regain her composure, but the look in his eyes, the way his voice curled around her name, had her completely undone.

All she could manage was a quiet, “Shut up, Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan grinned, leaning in even closer until his lips were just barely grazing hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. "I love when you look at me like that... all helpless. You're not as tough as you pretend to be, are you?"

"Jeonghan, please... stop teasing me." Luna’s voice was soft and breathy, almost pleading as she tugged at his shirt, unable to handle how slowly he was drawing everything out.

“No? You don’t like it? I thought you liked it, hm?”Jeonghan teasingly whispered against her lips, his voice full of knowing condescension, taunting her with the fact that she always gave in to him. “It’s not fun when you’re the one being teased, huh?

Jeonghan lowered his head slowly, the glint in his eyes unmistakable as he taunted her with a soft, knowing smirk. His face hovered just inches above hers, his breath warm against her skin. She felt the weight of his gaze, heavy and teasing, as he tilted his head, pretending to consider her predicament. The moment stretched on, tension wrapping around them like a vice.

"So quiet now..." His voice was a low purr, almost a coo, dripping with condescension. He paused deliberately, letting his words sink in before speaking again. "Where's all that fire from earlier, Nana-ya?"

The nickname came out in a soft sing-song, teasing her further as his fingers brushed a stray lock of hair away from her flushed face.

Luna looked up at him, her wide eyes almost innocent, her lips parted in the slightest pout. Her heart raced in her chest, a mix of frustration and need swirling within her. "I can't handle it when you're like this... you know that." Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling with a soft, frustrated whine as she pressed her forehead against his chest, her body melting into him, overwhelmed by how effortlessly he unraveled her.

Her words seemed to ignite something in Jeonghan, the way her small, innocent plea tugged at his heart. He couldn't help the way his lips curved into a smirk, his fingers instinctively moving to caress her hair.

"Aw, my poor baby," he cooed, his tone laced with amusement as he stroked her hair, letting his fingertips trace lightly over her scalp. "You really can't handle it, huh?" He whispered into her hair, his voice soft but teasing.

His heart swelled at the way she softened under his touch, completely pliable, like she was made for him to tease, to protect, to hold.

Jeonghan exhaled slowly, giving in to the tenderness that washed over him in waves.

"Alright, alright... come here." His voice softened as he leaned down and scooped her into his arms effortlessly, his strong grip making her feel weightless. She let out a tiny gasp, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck while he lifted her as if she were made of air.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, her body pressed against him as he held her securely, cradling her as if she were the most precious thing in his world. His chest was warm, the steady beat of his heart against hers calming the storm that had raged moments earlier.

Jeonghan pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering as he whispered, "You know I can't resist you when you're like this." His tone was gentle now, the teasing edge replaced by something softer, more protective. He shifted her weight in his arms as he carried her across the room, their bodies still so close, her head resting on his shoulder as she nestled into the crook of his neck.

He pushed open the door to his bedroom with his foot, the soft creak of the door the only sound between them. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of moonlight filtering in through the curtains, casting a pale light over the bed. Jeonghan gently lowered her onto the bed, his hands never leaving her as he carefully settled her down on the plush mattress.

Luna's fingers clung to his shirt, her body still tingling from his touch. She looked up at him, her lips slightly parted as if she didn't want to let go of him just yet.

Jeonghan chuckled softly, "Look at you... so pretty for me. You know I can't resist when you're like this, don't you?" He gently stroked her hair, his voice filled with doting affection, his eyes tracing her features like he couldn't get enough.

Luna's impatient lips found their way along the line of his jaw, teasing, swirling, tasting; her tangled curls brushing against his cheek like a lover's tender caress.

Jeonghan was intoxicated; by her, by this delicious moment that felt like a dream.

His hands, those gentle, long-fingered hands were gently removing her jacket with such finesse, now gripped her hips tightly, pulling her closer against him. He could feel her heat through the thin fabric of her attire, and he groaned, a sound that was swallowed by their ravenous kisses.

Luna gasped, her head tilting back to expose the long, elegant line of her throat. Jeonghan took advantage, his lips and teeth tracing a path of fire down to the hollow at the base of her neck.

Her hands, previously knotted in Jeonghan’s hair, now clawed at his shoulders, her nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. He could feel her pulse racing, matching the frantic beat of his own heart.

"Oppa... please. I need you.” Luna’s was voice breathy, a little whimper escaping her as she reached for him, the need in her words almost unbearable.

"Fuck, Jiyeonie," he muttered, his voice a low growl against her skin. "You’re gonna kill me."

"Please, Hannie... I'll be good." Luna breathed out a small, pleading whimper as she promised obedience, her tone soft and submissive, wanting nothing more than to please him. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him flush against her. He could feel her, hot and wet even through their drenched clothes, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to grind against her like a teenager.

Bae Jiyeon was trying to kill Yoon Jeonghan.

He was sure of it.

"Han," she whimpered, her fingers tangling in his hair, tugging sharply. "Please."

"Please what? Hm," he teased, his voice a low purr. "Tell me what you want."

Luna’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before snapping open again, meeting his gaze. "I want... I want you to take me… please.”

“Take you where? Disneyland?” Jeonghan couldn’t help himself as he smirked down at Luna who was now looking at him with a look mixed with frustration and agitation. “Tell me.”

"Oppa, I'm trying... but you make it so hard." Luna released a soft, frustrated whisper as she whined, biting her lip in frustration, overwhelmed by the way he is teasing her.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl. You can do it. Tell me and I’ll do anything.” Jeonghan cooed as he caressed her cheeks.

Luna swallowed hard, her eyes darkening with desire.

"Fuck me, Hannie. I want you, please.” Luna whispered, her voice barely audible yet laden with desire. Her words were like a matchstick set alight, igniting a wildfire within him.

A jolt of electricity shot through Jeonghan at her words, his cock straining painfully against his zipper. He gripped her chin, tilting her head up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Say it again," he demanded, his voice rough.

“Fuck me,” Luna said in an instant, desperately.

Jeonghan wasted no time. He grabbed her legs which were still wrapped around his waist. With a desperate and impatient flurry of movement, clothes started flying from all over the room, leaving them both bare and even more desperate than ever.

Jeonghan sat down on the bed, pulling Luna upward onto his lap, and straddling him. His hands roamed her body, cupping her breasts, squeezing them gently.

Luna arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. He could feel her nipples hardening, pressing against his palms, begging for his mouth.

Jeonghan gripped her tighter against him, her legs wrapping around his waist, his hands gripping her ass. He could feel her heat against his stomach, her wetness coating him. He groaned, his head dipping down to capture her nipple in his mouth.

He sucked hard, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud, making Luna squirm in his arms. She arched her back, pushing herself further into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair.

"Fuck, Han," she panted, her hips grinding against him. "I need you inside me.

Jeonghan didn't need any more encouragement. He released her nipple with a pop, his hands shifting to position himself at her entrance. He looked into her eyes, seeing the same hunger reflected back at him. Then, with one swift thrust, he pushed inside her.

"Fuck, Jiyeon," he breathed, his voice ragged. "You feel incredible."

Luna could only whimper in response, her body pulsing around him. She could feel every inch of him, filling her completely. She shifted her hips, trying to take him even deeper.

"Shhh, baby... no need to rush. We have all night. Let me take care of you." Jeonghan cooed softly as he slowed her down, his hands steady on her waist, his voice purring as if soothing her into submission.

“Han…” Luna’s voice was a soft whimper as she buried her face in his neck, feeling exposed and vulnerable, surrendering herself completely to him.

Jeonghan groaned, his control snapping.

He began to move faster, his hips thrusting forward in a steady rhythm. Luna matched his pace, her body rocking against his, their skin slapping together in a filthy symphony. The sound of their fucking filled the room, punctuated by their labored breaths and moans.

"Fuck, Hannie…. feels so good…" Luna gasped, her head thrown back. “Please… fast– fuck,”

"You don't need to say anything, angel. I already know. Just let me hear those pretty little sounds you make for me." Jeonghan spoke softly against her ear, his voice thick with teasing affection as he kissed her neck, enjoying how she melted into his touch.

Jeonghan’s grip on her ass tightened. He slammed into her, his cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside her, making her cry out.

"Yes! Just like that, Han!" she panted, her fingers digging into his back, her legs wrapping tighter around his waist, urging him on.

“Yeah? Just like this, baby?” Jeonghan was lost in the sensation of her, the way she gripped him, the way her body moved in sync with his. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back, his arms burning from the effort, but he didn't care.

He wanted more. He wanted all of her.

"You're driving me crazy, Hannie..." Luna breathed out with a whimper, her fingers clutching at his shoulders as she squirmed on top of him, feeling like she was losing control.

Jeonghan had the audacity to chuckle as shifted his angle, making sure to hit her clit with each thrust.

Luna purred as she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. She could feel his heart beating against her chest. She shifted slightly, grinding against him, matching his thrusts making him groan.

"Fuck, Jiyeon," he muttered, his grip on her tightening. "Stop that or I'll cum."

Luna just giggled, her lips tracing the line of his jaw. "You promise?" she whispered, her breath hot against his ear.

“Brat,” Jeonghan growled, his cock slipping out of her, making her whimper at the loss. But before she could protest, he grabbed her hips, flipping her onto her hands and knees. Luna gasped, her ass high in the air, her face pressed into the mattress.

"Is this what you want, pretty angel?" Jeonghan asked, his voice a low rumble behind her.

Luna could feel his breath on her ass, his fingers digging into her hips.

"Yes," she panted, her face still pressed into the mattress before she lifted her head up to turn back and look at him, her doe eyes glistening in pleasure.

"I just want to make you happy... don’t you want that?" Luna’s voice was quiet and trembling, filled with vulnerability as she looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes, needing his approval.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, his fingers caressing the soft flesh of her ass slow and steady. "Yeah? You want to make me happy, pretty girl?" he asked, his voice a lazy drawl. "Give me anything I want?”

“Give you anything you want. Be whatever you want.” Luna arched her back downwards like a cat stretching.

Jeonghan threw his head back, groaning, his hands spreading her ass cheeks apart, giving him a clear view of her glistening pussy. Luna shivered at the exposure, her body aching with anticipation.

He chuckled a dark sound that sent shivers down her spine. “Anything?”

“You're always teasing me, but you know I'll do anything for you, Han…” Luna released a soft, almost resigned whimper as she melted into his touch, accepting her place with a shy smile, letting herself be vulnerable for him.

"Fuck," Jeonghan muttered, his thumb tracing the seam of her pussy, gathering her wetness. "You're so fucking wet.”

“Look at you, dripping for me," He said, his voice laced with desire as he rubbed her wetness, making Luna gasp.

"Aww, baby... you're shaking. Don't worry, I've got you. I always have you. I’ll take care of you like I promised." Jeonghan cooed in a soft, condescending way as he held her leaned down on top of her, his arm wrapped around her neck, holding her close, his other hand soothingly stroking her back while his voice dipped into a protective, possessive tone.

Luna moaned, her face now pressed into the mattress, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her as Jeonghan played with her clit. "Yes please… please take care of me,” she hissed, her body arching against his touch.

Jeonghan smirked, his thumb circling her clit faster, making her gasp. "Like this, Nana-ya?" he asked, his voice soft almost as if he was singing a song to her. "You want me to fuck you like this?”

"Yes," she panted, her body writhing against his touch. "I want you to fuck me like this, oppa.” Luna's voice was a sultry purr, her body still quivering from his touch.

Jeonghan's smirk widened, his thumb was replaced by two fingers now pumping in and out of her hole, making her gasp. "You're a dirty girl, Nana-ya," he said in a tone as if he was scolding her yet his voice also filled with approval. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Luna could only whimper in response, her body aching with need. She could feel Jeonghan's hard cock pressed against her thigh, hot and heavy. She wanted it back inside her, she wanted to feel him stretching her, filling her completely.

"Please, Han," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jeonghan growled, his fingers slipping out of her, making her whimper at the loss as he in turn placed his fingers in his mouth. "You taste even sweeter than I thought. Just like I imagined... but better."

But before Luna could impatiently whine once more, Jeonghan grabbed his cock, positioning it at her entrance. Luna could feel the thick head pressing against her, making her squirm with anticipation.

"Baby," Jeonghan muttered, "You're so fucking tight.” His fingers dug into her hips as he slowly pushed himself deeper into her, inch by inch. Luna moaned, her body stretching to accommodate his size, her nails digging into the sheets beneath her.

"Fuck, Han. You're so big," she gasped, her body trembling as he filled her completely in this position. Jeonghan chuckled, his hips starting to move, sliding his cock in and out of her in a slow, steady rhythm.

"Too much for you, baby?" he taunted, his voice laced with desire. "You can take it for me, Jiyeonie. You can take all of me."

Luna moaned, her body adjusting to his size once again as she clenched around him. "Yes, I can," she hissed, pushing back against him, taking him even deeper. “For you.”

Jeonghan groaned, his hips starting to move faster, his cock sliding in and out of her in a steady rhythm. "Fuck, Luna," he growled, his fingers digging into her hips. "You feel so fucking good.”

“Hannie, just like that," Luna panted, her hips moving in sync with his thrusts, taking cock deeper into her. Jeonghan could feel her walls clenching around him, her pleasure building with each thrust.

“Like a goddamn vice, squeezing me," Jeonghan groaned, his fingers digging into her hips as he pounded on her.

“Oppa… Han– fuck,” Luna moaned, her body trembling as he filled her, stretching her, hitting places she didn't know existed. “Jeonghan.”

"Such a good girl for me... that's it. Let me hear you say my name." Jeonghan murmured softly as he watched her, his tone gentle but commanding, savoring the control he had over her at that moment.

"Hannie… fuck," she gasped, her fingers clawing at the bedsheets, her back arching as he started to pick up the pace. “It's too much." Luna gasped, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts as Jeonghan's cock slid in and out of her in a steady, punishing rhythm. Each thrust hit just the right spot, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through her veins, making her toes curl and her eyes roll back.

"Too much what, Nana-ya?" Jeonghan gritted out, his fingers digging into her hips, pulling her back onto him with each thrust. "Too much of my cock? Too much pleasure?"

Luna moaned, her head dropping down, her hair hiding her face. "All of it. It's all too much. It's overwhelming," She panted, her body quivering as Jeonghan's cock slammed into her, again and again, each thrust driving her closer to the edge.

He growled, his fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her head back, exposing her neck to his lips and teeth. "Overwhelming in a good way, right, angel?" he murmured, his voice a low, sultry drawl against her skin. "You like it when I fuck you like this, don't you? Hm? You're made for me, Bae Jiyeon.”

Luna could only moan and tremble. “Oppa…”

“Does it feel good, pretty?" Jeonghan's question was laced with intent and purpose, and Luna gasped at the sound of it in the dim room. His cock was buried deep inside her, and it was like nothing she had ever experienced before.

It felt powerful, raw, and undeniably intimate.

"Yes...yes, Han," she breathed, her hands gripping the bedsheets as her hips butted against his in rhythm with his thrusts. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

Jeonghan paused for a second before placing kisses on her back and spinning her around to lay on her back, catching Luna off guard.

“You’re so pretty,” Jeonghan purred as he placed his arms at each side of her head, laying in between his arms before he started thrusting harder in her.

Every time he thrust into her, she felt a wave of ecstasy surge through her body, building higher and higher with each stroke.

"Baby— Luna, I want to feel you cum," Jeonghan groaned, his rhythm intensifying as he reached for her climax alongside her.

Luna could only whimper in response as waves of bliss crashed over her. Her fingers curled into fists as her body tensed, every muscle tightening, every nerve amplifying the pulsating sensation ripping through her.

"Oh God, Hannie," she moaned, her voice raw and desperate, "I'm there...oh my— fuck, I'm close!" Her body shook and arched, her head thrown back as she came, her cries muffled by the flesh of Jeonghan’s neck as she hid her face.

"Don't look away... keep your eyes on me, Jiyeonie. I want to see every reaction." Jeonghan said in a soft yet commanding voice as his fingers traced the skin on the back of her neck, guiding Luna’s face out of his neck, loving the vulnerability in her gaze as he held her captive with his words.

"Let me see those pretty eyes... There we go. There’s my girl." He purred softly as he tilted her chin up, guiding her to meet his gaze, his tone filled with a tender yet teasing affection that made her heart race as he continued pounding into her.

“I’m close, Han,” Luna moaned as she tightened her grasp on him.

“Let go, baby. Come on, you can do it,” Jeonghan's thrusts became harder and faster, his body slapping against Luna’s. She could feel her breasts bouncing with every movement, and her nipples hardened as she arched her back, moaning in pleasure.

Jeonghan was reaching the edge as well, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his muscles tensing. Luna knew he was on the brink, and she wanted to feel him explode inside her.

Luna dug her nails into his back, urging him on. "Hannie oppa, cum in me please,” she begged, her hips bucking up to meet his. “I’m close.”

“I’ll cum in you, pretty angel. Anything you want.” Jeonghan gave a final, powerful thrust and Luna felt him erupt inside of her, his seed filling him up as she released as well with a shudder. Her body trembled with the intensity of the orgasm.

Jeonghan groaned in satisfaction, his seed pulsing from his cock, spilling deep inside her as she milked him, her walls clamping down on him, working against his thrusting hips. He collapsed onto Luna, their bodies a tangled mess of limbs and sweat. Luna lay on her back, her heart pounding in her chest, her breaths coming in sporadic gasps.

Jeonghan kissed Luna’s neck, his lips moist and soft against her skin. "Fuck, Bae Jiyeon, you make me feel crazy," he murmured, his breath hot on her ear.

Jeonghan's weight on top of her felt heavy and comforting, and she curled her fingers into the fabric beneath her. She looked up at him, her eyes hazy with lust and pleasure. "You…" she gasped trailing off, her voice still ragged with biss.

"You are magnificent, Jiyeon-ah," Jeonghan replied, his voice soft but with an underlying intensity that made her shiver.

He shifted off her, lying on his side next to her. He brushed a loose curl away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "See? I told you... you’re made for me.” He whispered with a possessive edge as he looked into her eyes, his fingers gently tracing her jawline, the weight of his claim lingering in the air.

Luna let out a soft laugh, her hand traveling down his chest and settling on his hip as she hid her face in his chest, a blushing mess.

“Stop hiding from me, Nana-ya,” Jeonghan placed a kiss on top of her head as his warm fingers drew circles on her hip. “Why are you shy all of a sudden? Hm?”

“Stop,” Luna playful whined, her pout evident in her tone, though the affection lacing her words betrayed how much she loved the attention he gave her.

"You like it when I talk to you like this, don't you? It's okay, you don't have to hide it. I can tell." Jeonghan was practically purring at her, his voice dripping with teasing condescension, savoring the way she responded to his baby talk and teasing words.

“You’re so fucking annoying, Yoon Jeonghan,” Luna huffed as she removed her face off his chest to playfully glare at him only to be met by Jeonghan’s smug face already looking down at her.

A slow, lazy smile spread across Jeonghan’s lips, and he let out a low hum, clearly amused by her response. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “How do you feel, pretty girl?”

Luna could feel her pulse quicken at the nearness of him, but she wasn’t about to let him win this easily. “I’m fine. I feel fine,” she said coolly, shrugging her shoulders like this was just another casual conversation.

Jeonghan chuckled, a low sound that reverberated through his chest. “You’re fine?” he repeated, his tone teasing, almost mocking. “I just rocked your fucking world and made you mine, and all you’ve got is ‘I’m fine’?”

Luna turned to face him fully, her eyes narrowing just slightly as she smirked. “What else do you want me to say? Write a love letter?” she quipped back, not missing a beat.

Jeonghan laughed softly, his fingers trailing down her arm in a way that sent shivers down her spine. “You don’t have to say anything, Jiyeonie,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, his teasing tone gone, replaced by something far more direct. “You already did.”

Luna raised an eyebrow at that, a silent challenge in her eyes. “Oh? And what exactly did I say?”

Jeonghan’s smirk widened, and without breaking eye contact, he leaned in close— too close, his breath warm against her lips. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

The words hung in the air between them, simple but heavy. Luna didn’t have a quick comeback this time. Her heart skipped a beat, not because of the weight of the situation, but because he said it so nonchalantly like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Jeonghan pulled back just slightly, watching her reaction with that same unreadable expression. “So… you tell me. What does that mean?”

Luna stared at him, feeling the weight of his words sink in. She could feel her defenses crumbling, but she wasn’t ready to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “Maybe I just didn’t want to leave before breakfast tomorrow morning,” she shot back, keeping her voice light, and playful.

Jeonghan laughed again, shaking his head as he rested his forehead against hers. “Maybe. Or maybe… you’re not quite done with me yet.”

Luna rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?”

Jeonghan grinned, pulling her closer. “I have an answer for you, yeah.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips before pulling back with that same infuriating smile. “Get used to it.”

The words were casual, almost tossed out as an afterthought. But they carried weight— an unspoken promise. And as Luna lay there, wrapped in his arms, she couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t mind getting used to it after all.

In the quiet aftermath, as the weight of everything settled between them, it was clear that this wasn’t just another fleeting moment or a secret whispered in the dark.

And just like that, Luna who started as his English Love Affair had quickly turned into something far less foreign— and far more impossible to forget.

There was no turning back— this was no longer a story of if only, but of everything that came after.

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[ghostofskywalker]

Anthony Bridgerton's Guide to Accidentally Falling In Love - 1

Anthony Bridgerton/Fem!Reader

Words: 1,833

Summary: Anthony Bridgerton thought it was clear that he does not intend to marry at this point, but still he is plagued by hopeful young ladies (and their mothers) who hope to change his mind. So when he meets a widowed Countess who is burdened by the ton's unkind gossip wherever she walks, the two of them realize that maybe they could be of help when it came to each other's problems.

Note: my first bridgerton fic and the first chaptered fic i've written consistently in quite some time, this was so much fun! i've already said this, but a super special thank you to @captainsophiestark for beta-ing this fic and dealing with me in the creation process 😂

Series Masterlist • Anthony Bridgerton Masterlist

At this point, it was an open secret that Anthony Bridgerton had no intentions of marrying, not this season or any other, if you spoke to him. No matter how many mamas tried to shove their (both new and returning) debutantes in his direction, it seemed that he was firm in his decision, never offering so much as a dance to any of the hopeful young ladies that crossed his path. But of course one should never underestimate the tenacity (and sheer stubbornness) of a woman looking to secure her daughter’s future, so the onslaught never once seemed to cease. 

This ball was no different, as he stood with Benedict and Colin at the outskirts of the room, staring at those who twirled across the dance floor. Josephine Alton had been the latest young lady who’s hopes of dancing with the Viscount had been dashed, and her mother was currently glaring in Anthony’s direction, but he paid neither of them any mind. 

“There,” Benedict said, taking another sip of his drink as he pointed across the room. “Lord Digby just stepped on his dance partner’s toes.” 

Colin smiled. “And she’s trying not to show how much it bothers her.” 

“Place your bets then,” Anthony cut in. “Is Miss Langley going to join the ever growing list of ladies who he is said to complain about in the gentlemen's club?” 

The three of them laughed briefly, but their outward expressions of joy were quelled by the approach of Lady Danbury. “Good evening Bridgertons,” she said. “I trust you’ve all taken to the floor at least once tonight?” 

Silence. 

Even if someone did have the courage to attempt to lie to the lady whose ballroom they were currently standing in, they did not act quick enough to be convincing. 

“That’s what I thought,” Lady Danbury mused, raising her eyebrows at the three men in front of her. “Please see that it happens at least once this evening, if not for your own sake but your mother’s.” 

The Bridgerton men all nodded, turning to each other when they were alone once more, and Anthony spoke right after he finished off what was left in his glass. “We should secure partners for the next dance.” 

“You two should secure partners for the next dance,” Colin said smugly. Anthony followed his brother’s gaze to where Penelope Featherington stood on the opposite side of the room, fiddling with her glove as she looked down at the floor. “I have a friend that I have not yet spoken with this evening.” 

Anthony resisted the urge to roll his eyes as Colin walked away. He knew of Penelope’s affections for his brother, as well as the fact that Colin had a tendency to ignore what was right in front of him (it is possible that was he a little more observant, the scandal with Miss Thompson last season might have been avoided completely). 

“Any prospects?” Benedict asked as they both scanned the ballroom. 

“Out of all the ladies I have been introduced to currently in this ballroom, there is not a single one I am interested in asking to dance,” Anthony said. “And I doubt Lady Danbury would be satisfied if Daphne was who I took the floor with.”

“What about one you have not been introduced to?” 

“I don’t think there’s anyone who I don’t-” but Anthony stopped speaking as his eyes rested on you for the first time. You were standing on the outskirts of the room as well, engaging in what looked to be polite conversation with Daphne and Simon. A little older than some of the women who had already approached him this evening (it seemed that you were past the usual age of debut and closer in years to him and his brother), Anthony would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious as to who you were. “Who is she?” 

Benedict paused as he followed his brother’s eyeline. “I don’t know,” he said. “Perhaps we should ask- oh, Mother! What perfect timing.” 

Violet Bridgerton approached her two eldest sons with a smile on her face, though it was unclear whether she had been informed of Lady Danbury’s ultimatum or not. “Ask what, Benedict?” 

Anthony opened his mouth to speak, but Benedict beat him to it. “Who that woman is, speaking with Daphne.” 

After a quick glance in her daughter’s direction, Violet spoke. “Oh, that is Countess Y/N Everleigh. Her husband passed away some time ago, but it seems that she is joining us for the season once more.”  

Anthony’s brain buzzed as he tried to recall anything he knew about the surname. “Is she just out of mourning?” he asked, his interest in the matter slightly selfish in nature. If he asked a widow to dance, there was less of a chance that she would make any kind of advances towards him, especially because he technically was of lower rank than her late husband. 

His mother shook her head. “No, it’s been a few years since the Earl passed, but she’s just now returning to social engagements. She has been the topic of some unkind gossip among members of the ton as of late, which could explain why it took her longer to begin attending events like this again.” 

Benedict’s curiosity might have been more noticeable in this moment, but Anthony was certainly feeling the same way, even if he didn’t show it. “What kind of gossip?” 

Violet looked at her two sons. “They say that the Earl did not pass as a result of a heart attack,” she said quietly, to ensure that no one else around heard her speak these rumors. “And the Countess holds the blame.” 

Anthony was expecting to hear something simple, such as the idea that she was accused of having an affair while still in mourning, not that people believed she was the one who ended her husband’s life. “I see,” he said, the wheels in his head spinning as he considered this new piece of information. 

“How?’ Benedict asked, eyes wide with the promise of interesting information. 

“The specifics are unknown, given that the doctors did deem the Earl’s death a heart attack,” Violet responded. “Those who propagated the rumor simply believe that the Countess had too much to gain from her husband’s death. After all, it is said that he left her everything.”

“Do you believe it?” As his brother spoke, Anthony curiously regarded his mother’s expression. 

“I was introduced to them both briefly at a ball, and spoke with Y/N a few times in the time after her husband passed,” Violet said. “I do not know her beyond that, but it is my belief that she could do no such thing. Why do you ask?” 

“Anthony wishes to dance with her.”

After shooting his brother a glare, Anthony cleared his throat as his mother smiled at him. “I simply want to know more about the woman that my sister seems so friendly with, that is all.” 

Violet nodded, and she began to lead him over to where Daphne was standing. “My Lady,” she said, and you turned to her with a small smile on your face. “Allow me to introduce my eldest son, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton. And Anthony, I would like to introduce Countess Y/N Everleigh.” 

You nodded gracefully at his mother’s words, and politely extended your hand to Anthony in greeting. It was clear you did not expect the introduction, but smiled nonetheless. “It is a pleasure to meet you, My Lady,” he said, pressing a brief kiss to your gloved hand. “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the floor for the next dance?”

Your expression was hard to read, but he was sure he could sense a little bit of wariness in your face (which made sense, especially if his mother was indeed correct about the rumors that seemed to follow you). Eventually though, you gave a polite nod. “I would be happy to accompany you, My Lord.” 

Anthony could see confusion on Daphne’s face, but he paid his sister no mind as he took your hand and escorted you to the center of the room. Nodding at Colin and Penelope as they took places beside him, Anthony caught Benedict’s eye as he remained on the outskirts of the room, where he would no doubt incur the wrath of Lady Danbury if he did not change that soon. 

As the music started to play, you regarded Anthony with a curious expression. “I would have thought your family has already weathered enough scandals,” you said. “Why have you chosen to dance with another?”

He simply smiled before responding. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, My Lady.” 

A soft snort escaped from your mouth, and you made no attempt to hide it or pull it back, unlike other ladies he had met. “Surely you aren’t oblivious to the way that the ton speculates about me when I am not present and does nothing but ignore me when I am?”

“I don’t take stock in rumors perpetuated by those who I dislike,” was his response. “More so now, that my family has been the topic of such scandals, as you so elegantly pointed out.” 

“I think we will get along well then, Lord Bridgerton,” you said. You seemed more comfortable with him now, some of that wariness melting away as you realized he had no intention of adding to the fire. 

“Given the fact that you already know my sister and mother, I would be inclined to agree.” 

You smiled, glancing back at where Daphne and Simon were standing. “And both are equally lovely,” you said. “I only met the Duchess this evening, but I was introduced to Lady Bridgerton at a ball years ago, and she has always been very kind.” 

Anthony smiled. If he was being perfectly honest, your presence was rather refreshing, and he found himself wishing for your friendship.

As the music died down to signal the end of the dance, Anthony bowed politely before taking his leave, immediately moving to approach Benedict at the outskirts of the room. “It is your turn to take the floor, you know.” 

But of course, Benedict showed no intention of actually completing Lady Danbury’s request. “And I will, in due time,” he said. “How was your dance with the Countess? Do you think she is as cold blooded as the rest of society seems to believe?” 

“I know you’re not well-versed in manners brother, but I didn’t see fit to ask a woman if she was indeed a killer during an introductory conversation,” Anthony said, raising his eyebrows at his brother. “Besides, I don’t wish to incur her wrath if the ton is correct.” 

Benedict laughed quietly as the two were approached by Simon, and Anthony could see Lady Danbury watching them out of the corner of his eye, but he simply ignored the somewhat scheming look on her face. He had followed her instructions after all.

- end of part one -

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[admiringlove]

a tempest gilded in ruin: teaser.

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

↬ genre: jjk x regency era au; arranged marriage au; drama; romance; angst and then fluff; slowburn basically; happy ending i promise but it takes angst to get there.

↬ warnings: none! (full warnings tba)

↬ teaser word count: 0.5k. | expected word count: 30k-ish.

↬ note: this work was specifically written for loml @gojofile, it's her birthday gift, so it'll be released on her special day, which is very soon 💌 art by @3-aem.

The following is the latest article from the gossip column, "The Veiled Quill". It is titled: A Tempest Gilded In Ruin. This copy was delivered to Highgrove House, the Viscount's residence.

My dearest gentle readers.

The impossible has come to pass—the Duke of Six Eyes, the most elusive bachelor in the kingdom, is to wed at last. Yes, you read that correctly. The very same His Grace, Gojo Satoru, known for his mastery of duels, razor-sharp wit, and a scandalous fondness for the less refined pleasures of high society, has finally been caught in the silken snare of matrimony. But before we all begin preparing our congratulatory sentiments, let us examine the matter closely—for this match is as perplexing as it is impractical.

His betrothed? The Viscount’s daughter, a lady of unimpeachable standing, one whose name has never been inked in these pages for any wrongdoing. No moonlit dalliances, no whispered improprieties, not a single rumor worth repeating. A model of grace and virtue, bound in wedlock to a lord of reckless indulgence. A match ordained by fate? Or a disaster waiting to unfold?

The Duke of Six Eyes, after all, is no ordinary noble. He is a man who bows to no one, who treats duty as a suggestion rather than a law, whose very presence in court is an unpredictable tempest—one moment dazzling with charm, the next vanishing into the night with a knowing smirk. That such a man should take a wife is scandal enough—that he should take this wife, a woman so wholly unlike him, is beyond comprehension.

And yet, dear readers, not all is as it seems.

For while the public sees a coldly arranged union, those with ears close to the court whisper of a history shared. It is said that this betrothal is not as sudden as we are meant to believe—that, in their youth, the Duke and his intended were not strangers but rather childhood acquaintances. Could it be that the ever-unattainable Gojo Satoru once harbored a softness for the Viscount’s daughter? Did they once exchange lingering glances, secret words, or something far more telling?

It is, of course, equally possible that the Duke treats this match as he does all matters of duty—with complete disregard and thinly veiled mockery. After all, has he not been seen in the finest gambling halls and gentlemen’s clubs well past the hour of reason? Does he not revel in the company of artists and libertines rather than the noble ladies who sigh longingly behind their lace fans?

Perhaps His Grace is merely playing along for now—letting the world believe he is tamed, while he quietly plots his escape.

Or perhaps—just perhaps—the storm that is Gojo Satoru has met his match.

Will this marriage be a battle of wills, a contest of untamed hearts, or something far more dangerous—a love that neither party dares to admit?

One can only wonder… and watch.

With quill in hand and ears ever listening, Phantom.

a/n. taglist for this work is now open. you may send in an ask, or comment under this post to be added! it will be released soon. until then, see you <3

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[myraniellejkelly]

AIB boys with s/o who’s androgynous

Author’s note: Got this idea out of my mind randomly, after struggling to maintain writing in two of my fanfics.

Another note: For one of you guys who like reading my AIB boys with s/o, I hope you guys enjoy (*^▽^*)

This work includes: all images aren’t mine, male reader, headcanons, grammars ahead, fluff, and a slight of smut.

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「 ✦ RYOHEI ARISU✦ 」

You’ve met him at the convenient store just as you were walking by, and that Arisu saw you as he thought you were a girl at first. He was there awkwardly waving at you and that you also awkwardly wave back at him, the time when Arisu just commenting that you look pretty; the only thing what surprises him is your voice.

And that made you laugh just to see how embarrassed he must’ve been feeling, but it doesn’t matter as you explain him that it happens all the time, just as if how gorgeous you are.

He’s just cute when he is confused, so you came to him on the cheek as you wave and say bye-bye! Like it’s only just thirty seconds of you guys only interacted.

But he shouted at you and say wait! Wait! Wait!

Yet laughed at him for running around, trying to catch up with you after you leave the convenient store.

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「 ✦DAIKICHI KARUBE✦ 」

You were inviting your friends at the bar and Daikichi Karube himself was a bartender, serving you guys’ alcohol beverages as yourself weren’t as talkative to your friends.

The only thing you do is listen while you drink your favourite alcoho, at first his eyes start to suspect of you and that you do looks so alluring, that he couldn’t stop looking at you. But him, just shrugging it off as he continue cleaning the bar table for a moment.

You notice and smile just as you lay your chin on to your hands, then he notice you back as your eyes met.

You just look at your friends getting drunk, except for you who only drink a little as you came to whisper him just to get outside for fresh air. He didn’t notice your voice at first as just as you guys were outside, you look at him and tilted his head.

You seem to be very confident and asked him, “You do seem to be looking at me with those eyes, huh?”

Then it caught his attention at your voice, that he just itch the back of his neck awkwardly just as he seems to look so nervous at you.

“Is it because I look like a girl to you?” you asked him. Karube at first was acting nervous, but now he really does laughed and doesn’t think twice. In fact he does like you and said, “I think I would prefer if it were you that I like instead of other guys or girls in here.”

He touched your face and commenting you, “But my god, you look like you came from heaven,” he said, “just gorgeous.”

You were scoffed and looked at his lips, then you both start to kiss each other. Afterwards, he wouldn’t miss a bit of that kiss just for him to see how beautiful you are.

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「 ✦SEGAWA CHOTA✦ 」

Simply you were working at the same job as Chota does, actually you were that guy whom the gentlemen or ladies: be confused of you, fond of you, getting more attention, popularity, or getting too much crushes all of a sudden.

Him in the other hand just looks at you, you were nice aside from him trying to get your attention, until you stood there beside him and that you smile in a casual chill nonchalant way of waving.

Somehow, you were very much prefer to be not being the center of attention, instead you just take a notepad and start writing down, just as you gave him next to his desk. Since the two of you were together and each other’s desk, you replied to him: “Hey, how’s it hang in’?”

So he respond you, “I’m good, I notice that our colleagues is looking at you.”

You laughed and wrote it back to him, “You know, I would rather be talking to you than those colleagues who keep harassing me all day, just because I’m neither feminine or masculine. I mean, does looks really matter to you?”

Chota would be a little blushful when he didn’t expected an attractive guy, like you would prefer to talk to him. Somehow, he didn’t care about your looks, you’re just you: “No, looks doesn’t matter to me. You just seem like a chill guy who wants to get away with nonsense, if I’m right.”

Then you snort and looked at him in the eyes as you were resting your face on your palm, “You wanna go out sometime after work?”

Chota looked at the boss and the clock, “Sure, let’s skip work.”

The two of you seem to be platonically friends, who occasionally skip work from the moment.

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「 ✦SHUNTARO CHISHIYA✦ 」

Actually, I think in my imagination that Chishiya would also be androgynous, and I think I see you two as one of those people who questions: They’re a couple. When in reality, you guys were just best friends who casually fake dates, just to make the rumours more true as much as you guys were having fun. Until now, Chishiya slowly start to catch feelings from you, and that when he finally admitted tell you. It was so obvious from the start that you also start to tell your feelings, despite not wanting to ruin your guy’s friendship with only one kiss.

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「 ✦GINJI KYUMA✦ 」

There were two different scenarios:

• First scenario: You were a fan of him as you were at the crowd while him and his band were singing on stage, Kyuma was looking at the crowd until he saw you three then he begin to point at you by the crowd.

The spotlight pointed at you as he was curling his fingers, just to make you came here closer to his stage. Then he asked you, “What’s your name?”

“(Reader’s name),” you respond.

He was surprise by your voice, then asked you again, “You wanna help me finish up the lyrics together?”

You were excited and nodded, as you two take turns as well as you sing the chorus, that the crowd were just cheering for you.

When he came to see you just another day, you were standing there wanting his autograph as he wrote it down for you. Somehow, he just want to take a picture with you together and that at a slight, that he starts to fall in love just not because of your looks, is that you were singing along with him.

• Second scenario: You were the bassist and his bandmate, likely his bandmates would become your friends immediately, while he was watching you laughing.

Kisagari would imagine if you and her were a couple, but on a subjective note that the only thing you were to imagine was you and Kyuma.

His bandmates begin to look at you as Kyuma slowly smirks at you, while watching you getting into an awkward conversation of silence. Clearly, his bandmates was obvious that you would answer that, “It’s clear that (Reader’s name) does have a crush on Kyuma,” she would say as the others would agree more.

“Guys, it was just an imagination, clearly I’m not.”

When you were at the stage as you kept playing your bass, and that Kyuma would come around while he signs. Sometimes, he just wants to tease you as he came behind you, while you were still focusing on the right cords.

He just wrap his hand around your waist, laying his chin on your shoulder for a moment while he sings. Then he whispers to your ear, “Focus,” as he walked away and continue sing for the crowd. You were a little red as you shake your head as you tried to forget it.

I mean every time he does it in different ways while being on different concerts; Kyuma would likely distract you just a bit to keep your eyes on to him, it’s clearly that his bandmates knows and didn’t want to bother, over some type of fling going on with you two, that left all the fans wonder if there’s something going on with you two.

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「 ✦HATTER✦ 」

There two different scenarios:

• First scenario: You were there, trying out hats and that your taste in fashion was a whole formal. Hatter took a glimpse of you and that you were having problems, which hate might be of what you’re holding two hats.

Simply, he first thinks of you as one of a kind model, of course he might be thinking of you that way because of your looks. But what he don’t know after you decided what hat, you begin to speak and that’s something he would laugh.

Patting your shoulder as he indeed doesn’t matter anymore, after hearing your voice and as you were looking at yourself. He would say, “You’re still beautiful, with or without one, dear.”

• Second scenario: You were a newcomer as well as you were face by the Hatter, the only thing he first saw you was how you look honestly like his girls. Honestly, the first time he saw you right then, but secondly you were start to say something which a surprise coming from you.

He would slowly grin didn’t expected anything of you, being mistaken for a girl because of how feminine you look. Until now, he would admire you just as much as he wanted you on his side, just a partner.

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「 ✦MORIZONO AGUNI✦ 」

Well, he doesn’t care what you are, what matters to him is you being you. He does love you without showing anything, he secretly has a soft spot for you while a crowd of people would be falling for you. I would say, he would protect you like a bodyguard just as you were walking with a lot of people.

They keep bugging you and taking literally pictures of you without permission, so he covers you as much as you want to walk away from them as possible.

Not so much to say but he is there standing by your side, if you want to talk about it.

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「 ✦LAST BOSS✦ 」

You were standing there at the beach, just as he was walking by weirdly. His gaze were on to you and you casually just wave at him, then he walked away.

To think about it, he was for sure is likely interested in you, just because he may not be talking and it’s just you who starts talking to him. He doesn’t care what you are, or how beautiful you are.

He just came by just to wave at you, or even wanted to be friends with you because you’re chill to be around with someone, who’s not even afraid of a militant. Secretly, just between you two friends who had to follow The Beach expectation, while pretending to be enemies.

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「 ✦SUGURU NIRAGI✦ 」

Warning: a slight NSFW

Actually, the first time he met you is when your friends force you to wear feminine dress for a day, just because you constantly act like a girl and that you mostly look like a girl.

Just to trick people into thinking you were, and my god he would notice you walking by all alone while he was chilling outside.

“Hey cutie!” as he would say, and just as you turn to him. You were standing so still, “Why are you walking here all alone?”

You just shrug your shoulders as you don’t know, what had got into your head to able to face at a random guy. Somehow, you felt a little shy but Niragi just looks at you and wants to hear you; the only thing you could do was shake your head.

It seems obvious that he would see differently about you and started asking you, “Does the cutie act a little nervous?”

You were much like to roll your eyes and turned your head away, but he grab your jaw just wanting you to look at him in the eyes, he would chuckle just to see how innocent you’re looking at, despite not knowing you were a guy in a feminine dress.

It sucks to say that you would hate your friends even more, than you really are. You would think on how to get out of this when he was looking very obsessive of you, you would be shakily breathing so quietly.

“You wanna get a drink, baby?”

You didn’t mind but casually shrugs if that’s the answer, now you really act like a girl who’s timid to even talk to that guy, Niragi.

When you were there after taking a sip of alcohol and that drastically you two were in a random room, suddenly you were trap and he begin to kiss you. But you just stop him there any further and you finally said, “I’m a guy!”

Niragi wouldn’t care, he already kiss you which means he wants you either way. He would laughed at your attempt but you just glare at him, which he love the reaction coming from you. In fact, he wouldn’t mind if it were for his hand to go under your dress, just to touch your dick.

But anyways, ever since you met a random guy, usually you were dating with him. As you were no longer wearing a feminine dress, Niragi just came behind you and hugged you in the back, he was smirking just as you now know that you wouldn’t be leaving him.

“You’re cute when you’re mad, not as much as you look beautiful when you can go both ways.”

──── ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨★୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ────

「 ✦OKI YABA✦ 」

You were his ally who smokes during the day in an empty streets, you were casually wearing a formal attire whiles your hair was tied. Yaba saw you and you wave back at him, then he lay his head down to greet you while he begin to smoke.

You two aren’t as much into getting to conversation, you consider the two of you only be smoking anyways. Yaba didn’t think of you about the whole part of you being androgynous, he just stand there normally without even saying but staring at the sky.

Somehow, you just manage to motion your hands just wanting a lighter, then he lend you some as you smoke. The only thing there was looking above the sky, so that’s all there is.

──── ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨★୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ────

「 ✦SUNATO BANDA✦ 」

Warning: NSFW

Oh, he would be very obsessive of you at the minimum on how he lay his eyes on you, the fact you were so sit still while he stares at how fascinating your looks really are. Really sees you as like a perfect doll, somehow he just lend you something to wear.

At that note, Banda would always be gentle with you just to see your face, or when you would get please by him during make-outs.

Embracing whether masculine or feminine you might be, you were like his sex doll and a rag doll. Just as you were there watching him getting your ass pounded, while he was admiring the things about you.

You will always be lying there being his view of pleasure, while you were crying for more than enough to satisfied him.

As if after sex, he would be hugging you just to kiss you on the lips, just murmuring how he would descriptive about your face and the whole thing about you. That’s how he is very much, the most obsessive guy you’ve met the first time he laid his eyes on you on that day.

[orbitty]

Where We Fell Apart

Pairing: Joaquín / Reader

Little bit of angst, lots of regrets and a promise of a happy ending

Word count: 1274

Prompt: “I wasn’t going to wait around for you forever.”

Seeing her in those pictures, smiling and carefree, gave him mixed feelings. On one hand, her happiness was all that mattered and he would do anything to see her grinning like that, blue eyes shining so much. However, on the other hand, he felt a pang of jealousy, anger, something strong boiling inside of him.

He closed the Instagram app, turned his phone off and threw it in his backpack. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome on board Flight 1567 with service from London to New York City. We are currently third in line for take-off and are expected to be in the air in approximately seven minutes time. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts…” As the voice in the speaker kept talking, Joaquín prepared himself for a long flight.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

After a long shower and a call to his sister, he decided it was time to just sit on his couch and find some new movie on Netflix to watch. His phone was in his room, a strategic move he made to stop himself from checking her Instagram profile again, to see if there was a new picture of her, smiling with her boyfriend, one that wasn’t dated a month prior. He thought he could ask Emilia but just when he was about to do it, he couldn’t find the right words. It was his fault, anyway. He was the one who left without further notice. He was the one who left her.

His apartment was just the way he left it all those months ago. He noticed how cleaned it was and made a mental note to thank Emilia for being a great sister. She was supposed to pick him up at the airport but she got called at work at the last minute. 

He grabbed a couple of beers before settling down on the couch because he needed the alcohol, badly.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Two weeks after he arrived in New York, he decided it was time for him to start behaving like a functional human being and maybe go out to do something more than just buy food or more beer.

He thought that it was a good idea if he started with a visit to his favourite bookstore. Buying new books was always a good choice. So, he put on his most comfy sweater and left his apartment. He even decided he was going to buy some coffee and a croissant at his favourite place on his way back. He had everything planned.

Everything, except for a tiny little thing. Everything, except for HER, wearing his favourite beanie and a sweater a bit too big for her, standing right in front of the biographies section at the bookshop. He froze. He just stood there looking at her, looking at the girl he left 7 months ago.

She looked up from the copy of Alexander Hamilton’s biography that she was holding and her eyes widened in surprise at the mop of dark curls and deep brown eyes that she knew so well.

“Joaquín-”

“That’s- that’s a good biography. You’ll like it”, he stammered, somehow recovering his breath. Seven months without seeing her, talking to her, and that’s all he could manage to say. He mentally scolded himself.

“Oh. I’ve wanted to read it for a while- when did you get back?” She was still looking at him, trying to figure out if this whole thing was really happening.

“Two weeks ago”, he replied.

“Oh. Okay. How was London?” The tension, the awkwardness, was undeniable but neither of them could leave.

“It was great. How’s the boyfriend?” He asked nonchalantly as if they were just two old high school classmates who haven’t seen each other for years, as if they were just acquaintances.

“What?” The way he asked made her blood boil and he realized as she stood up more straight and her face changed from surprised to angered, that he should have never asked that.

“I-I mean. I saw- I saw some photos of you and your-your new boyfriend. He seems nice and you two- you two seem happy. You look happy with him”. He shook his head and smiled fakely at her. “I should get going. It was nice seeing you, Y/N”. And with that he turned around to leave.

However, his plan was again ruined by the same person. “I wasn’t going to wait around for you forever.”

He stopped in his tracks and felt a pang on his chest, a coldness at the bottom of his spine. He knew it was all his fault, he did this to himself. He left the woman he loved for a chance to work in London. He left without explaining much, without giving themselves time to figure anything out. He did this.

He turned around to face the woman he still loved because he needed to stop being a coward and he had to face the consequences of his actions.

Y/N’s eyes were glassy and the hole in his chest grew deeper. “I couldn’t- You just left. You left me here to go to London and I get it. Trust me, I do. But you never talked to me about filling that application or being chosen, not until it was time for you to leave. Joaquín, do you even know how I felt?”

“I know. I know I fucked up. I know I’m the only one to blame here and I’m sorry. I’ve been sorry since the moment I got on that plane but I was too much of a coward to do something about it. I-I’ve thought about you all these months, you were always in my mind. I thought of all the ways I could have handled the whole thing without hurting you but it was too late. It was too late to fix it but you should know one thing: I never stopped loving you. I still do. And that’s why I’m happy you found someone. Even if it hurts, I’m happy because you deserve someone who loves you and makes you smile all the damn time. Fuck, you deserve the world, Y/N, and I’m glad you found someone who can give it to you. I’m sorry for being an idiot”.

Y/N stood there, speechless, and Joaquín knew he couldn’t stand there any longer so he just nodded and turned around to leave for the second time but this time he got to the door and left the bookstore and the woman he loved behind.

The tears burned hot against his skin but he couldn’t do much to stop them. “Fuck”, he muttered under his breath as he waited for the pedestrian crossing light to change from red to green.

“I never stopped loving you either!” A breathless voice shouted from behind him. He turned around to find Y/N with red cheeks, trying to catch her breath. “I never stopped loving you, Joaquín. I tried but I couldn’t. Peter- he noticed that. He knew and that’s why we broke up. Because I was- I am still in love with you”.

His heart started beating fast inside his chest as he watched this girl who was wearing his old sweater and telling him that she still loved him. The coldness was replaced by a warmth he thought he was never going to feel again.

“I would kiss you right now but I think we still have a lot more to say before we get to do that”. That’s all he managed to say but it was enough to make her smile.

“Well, you could start buying me coffee”, she suggested and he grinned.

“I know just the place”.

[justmeinadaze]

Secret Underneath Part 6 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: No cliffhanger this time, I promise <3.

Warning: Older (Mid thirties) Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Young (Early to mid 20s) Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, No smut in this one today, ladies and lads. I didn't feel like it worked with this chapter. I was going to make this one long chapter but I thought it better to split it :)

ANGST, Y/N confronts them about the events of the last chapter. Insecurities get in the way of them and that is explored a lot more in this chapter with mentions of their dads as well as Gina hurting them. She is sullying their image by saying lies (mentions verbal abuse and comments on how the plus size reader is "probably being used" by them because of how she looks) , she does have an incident at a bar with a guy being a dick, they defend her.

Word Count: 4853

Series here/ Donate to Me :)

You broke a rule. 

You went on Google and searched for their lawyer’s information through news outlets spouting anything they could in regard to this case. After finding what you needed, you charged into the building and past a secretary who was shouting for you to come back as you opened the door to a conference room where many sets of eyes including their shocked expressions landed on you. 

“Excuse me, gentlemen, but I need a moment alone with these boys for a moment.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wilson, she just stormed right past me—”

“No, no. It’s alright, Crystal. Um, let’s take a breather and we’ll be back in a moment.”

As soon as everyone had filed out, your angry eyes burned into them as you slid your phone across the table. 

“That thing hasn’t stopped going off since Gina released your names and quite frankly I’m afraid to look at it.”

“How did you find out where we were?”, Steve asked as he rose to his feet.

“I googled your lawyer’s name.”

“Well, so much for that promise.”, Eddie sassed as he leaned back in his chair. 

“And so much for your promise to take care of me!”, you screamed not caring if anyone heard. “Did you really fucking think that I could stay out of this?! Did you think after what she said people weren’t going to wonder and dig into why I was with you at that party?!”

“You wanted to go and we warned you of the risks of being seen with us.”

“Don’t you dare do that! Don’t you fucking dare place blame on me! I don’t care about being seen with you or if people know that we’re together! What I care about is my job, those kids, and you two!! How can I properly help and protect myself if I don’t have all the facts?! Do you know what she’s saying? She’s saying you two promised to take care of her if anything ever happened. That you were verbally aggressive with her and--”

“Yeah, Y/N, we’re aware of she’s claiming.”, the mogul growls. “Since you’re doing your own research did you go on her social medias? Oh, a lot of fun material there. Now that a fucking judge allowed her to talk about us she’s been posting nonstop about how Eddie would demean her and make her feel ugly. That I apparently offered her money to get plastic surgery to make her look ‘perfect’.”, he sarcastically laughs. 

“You should have told me.”

“Because you think we did what she claims?”

“No, Eddie! Fuck, so I can prepare. What if parents suddenly feel like I can’t teach their kids because of the company I keep? What if the school decides that my association with you isn’t worth the attention? Now that this has come to light I need to be aware of what’s going on!”

Neither man said a thing infuriating you more. 

“Did you not tell me because you thought I wouldn’t want to be with you? Or did you think I’d hurt you like she did?” You laugh as you shake your head. “Jesus. I thought you two were different but you’re just like every other scared little boy. I thought I had given you enough reason to trust me but I guess not.”

“Yeah so why don’t you fucking leave then, you little brat.”

You weren’t sure if they saw it in your eyes but you definitely felt your heart break. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you back away towards the door. 

“I’m so stupid.”

When your teary eyes met theirs, you could tell Steve regretted his words but he couldn’t take them back. They couldn’t take any of this back. Furiously, you reach into your pocket and throw their apartment key across the table before leaving the way you came. 

##############

Instagram:

IHateithere: “Oh my god. Poor Gina!”

NeverHave_IEver13: “She’s so sweet and deserves better.”

CorrodedGirl28: “Fuck Gina Frost. This isn’t the first time she’s made claims against a partner! I met Eddie Munson backstage at one of his concerts and he was so sweet.”

E!News: Mystery Woman seen at the Charity Event with Steven Harrington and Edward Munson has been cited by the men’s lawyers as ‘just a friend.’

Twitter:

ElderEmoKid91: That poor friend of theirs. No matter what people will think they dated because of Gina. 

ChaosRains: ‘Their friend’? Yeah right. Probably as much of a whore as Gina Frost!

JusticefortheUnheard: I bet if this was a man with two women he’d be slated as a ‘hero’ but because it’s a woman with two men she’s a whore. Grow up!

Steve Harrington: Eddie and I are saddened to hear that not only has our privacy been violated but Gina Frost is allowed to continue spreading her lies until we get this matter resolved. We never once raised a voice or hand to her and took care of her like any boyfriend would which she constantly took advantage of…

Steve Harrington: In regard to the young lady that came with us to charity event last Saturday, she is a friend we’ve known for a while. We ask politely that you respect her privacy as what is going on between us and Gina…

Steve Harrington: doesn’t involve her. Thank you for your understanding and we will speak more on this situation when we are finally able.

TMZ: Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson release joint statement regarding ‘friend’ and how they feel about Frost ‘spreading her lies’!

YouTube and TV:

CBS: “Gina Frost, thank you so much for speaking with us today. Before we let you go, what are your thoughts on the young lady they were seen with? Do you have any advice for her in regard to Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson?”

“Run, girl. Get as far away from them as you can. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they started ‘hanging out’ with a girl like her because of our case. They always wanted me to be perfect. To look like the woman they thought would be equal to them and their status. She’s the complete opposite of what they wanted me to be so dating, or excuse me, being friends with her makes them look good.”

***

You wiped the tears that fell with your knee as you browse Daddies on your computer. Your phone was still dinging constantly so you kept it hidden in your bedside table drawer. Since winter break had started you didn’t have to deal with work and for that you were thankful. 

Your identity hadn’t been officially confirmed but it seemed to be common knowledge at this point; everyone knew it was you. 

Not wanting to be alone, you ran home into your parent’s open arms. 

“Baby! Are you ok? What’s going on? Tell us everything.”

“I’m so stupid, mom.”, you cried.

“No, you’re not, honey. Come on. I made some coffee. Let’s sit down and talk.”

You told them everything minus the exact way you met them but you did tell them that you had been dating them both and how much you cared about them. When you were met with nothing but love and zero judgement, you cried harder. 

Having fully settled in, you felt yourself getting antsy. After everything, you didn’t want a new relationship, just something casual but after having been with the guys you felt yourself cringing more and more at the stupid flirting that hit you. 

“’Sup, pretty girl? Fuck your gorgeous. Wanna suck my cock?”

“Hey babe. You got an attitude? I bet I can fuck it out of you.”

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

Your head straightened at the message from Mogul/Rockstar. You hadn’t heard from them in over two weeks. What were they doing on this site? You couldn’t help the jealousy that flowed through you even though technically you were on the site first. 

2:13am: What do you want, Steve?

2:14am: I want an answer to my question. What are you doing on this site again?

2:15am: What are YOU doing on here?! And why do you fucking care? You told me to leave remember?

2:17am: We’ve been calling you for the past couple of weeks but you don’t answer. We got worried. Steve thought maybe we could reach you through here but I thought naw. She wouldn’t get back on here so fast. Guess we were wrong. 

2:20am: Don’t you dare, Eddie. Don’t you turn this around on me. You have no idea what I’ve been through! I still can’t believe you didn’t talk to me. You really expected me to sit at my apartment while you handled all this alone. Did you really think she wouldn’t pull me into your thing?”

2:21am: Now because of all the secrecy I can’t help but think what I’m hearing is true!

2:22am: Like what? 

2:25am: Answer. Like what?

2:26am: That you only dated me so it seems like you didn’t want her to be the ‘ideal woman’.

You hear your phone vibrate against the drawer it’s nestled. 

2:28am: Answer the phone.

2:28am: No.

2:29am: Now, Y/N. We need to talk.

2:30am: Oh now you want to talk!? Go fuck yourselves!

2:30am: Mogul/Rockstar has invited you to a video chat!!

2:31am: CurveybabywAttitude declined your invitation to video chat. 

2:32am: Y/N. Answer the fucking phone. 

2:38am: Y/N, sweetheart, please.

2:44am: Baby…

2:44am: Please…

2:45am: We love you. 

2:45am: So much.

Uh oh! It looks like this Baby can no longer receive messages from Mogul/Rockstar! This means you have either been blocked or the Baby has deleted their account. 

###################

“Jesus what assholes.”, your best friend sighs as she takes a sip from her glass. “If they loved you then why did they push you away?”

“I don’t know, My. Let’s stop talking about them and dance!”

To get your mind off everything and let go, you met up with your best friend who took you to a new bar that had been built while you were away from home. Dressed in your tightest black dress and black heels, you grabbed your own drink and danced away the pain. 

Your friend took photos, tagging you together with men in the background casually touching your arm or waist. Your limbs found their way around a cute boy you had been talking casually to and allow him to kiss you. You hated the taste, missing Eddie and Steve even more but you pushed down the feeling as you pulled him tighter against you. 

“Take me home.”, you slurred, making the young man immediately jump to his feet. When you tried to do the same you fell backwards. 

“Whoa, Y/N. Maybe, you should let me take you home.”

“Naw, Mya. I-I-I M’fine.”, you assured as you lightly pushed her to the side and stumbled out the front door. When you tripped again the man wrapped your arm around his neck and began leading you to his car. “Wait—Wait. I’m…I need a minute.”, you whine as you take a seat on the brick wall behind you.

“Come on, baby. You can rest at my place.”, the man cooed in your ear causing you to cringe. “Look we don’t even have to go. We can just fuck in my car real quick—”

“Oh, that’s romantic.”

As you stood up and started to walk away, he grabbed your wrist a bit to roughly and in return, you smacked his cheek before stumbling to the concrete. 

“Ow! Fucking bitch—” As the man began to step forward, someone intercepted, abruptly grabbing his collar and lifting him off his feet. 

“Eddie, let it go, man. Not right now.”, Steve whispers before kneeling down beside you to try and help you up. 

“Get out of my sight.”, the rockstar growls, pushing him away from you. 

“Y/N, stop. I’m just trying to help you stand—”

“I don’t need your fucking help!”, you shouted as you shoved his hand away. “I don’t need anything from you!” 

Trying to push up onto your knees, you became dizzy and fell over again causing Steve to try and steady you while blocking your shoulder from scraping the wall beside you. Your hair was blocking your face but when they heard you sniffle, Eddie crouched down to balance on his heels and tenderly reached out to move some of it behind your ear. 

“I did everything you asked… I didn’t push when it came to your past or dig into your information online. I-I-I respected the anon-ymity and privacy when we first met and took a leap of faith going to that party with you. I flew to visit you anywhere you were and didn’t complain when you were gone for weeks at a time. I made myself vulnerable…for you…but still…you don’t trust me.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, we are so sorry—”

“I want to go home, please, Daddy.”

The way you said that shattered them in two. Just in your voice alone they could hear how much pain you were in yet even in your inebriated state you still yearned for them. Selfishly, it gave them hope.

“Y/N, sweetie! There you are.”, your best friend shouts in relief as she runs to you and helps you to your feet. “Get the fuck away from her. Haven’t you done enough damage?!”

“We just want to talk to her.”

“Fuck you! You had your chance to talk and—”

“Mya, please. Sleepy.”, you whine. 

When she tries to lead you away from them towards her car, you stumble over your feet again but Eddie swiftly catches you and lifts you into his arms. 

“We’ll help you get her to your car.”

“Why? So you know which one is mine and follow me back to her house?!”

“No, so we can help you get her situated and back home so she can rest.”, Steve growled. 

Mya blinks, taken a back slightly by their protective demeanors over you. After taking a moment, she finally nods and guides them towards her vehicle, watching carefully as they place you in the passenger seat. The mogul buckles your seatbelt and gently puts your bag in your lap.

Your half-lidded eyes scan his worried face as your head lulls towards him. 

“M’not her.”

“Who, honey?”

“Gina.”

Flashing you a soft smile, he begins to reach out to pet your head before forcing himself to stop and rise to his feet.

“We’re staying at the hotel by the highway; room 118. When she wakes up tomorrow, if you could tell her that, we’d appreciate it.”, Eddie conveys as his sad eyes stay on you. 

“Your fuckers, you know that?”, Mya shouts their way as they start to leave. “Like so much so that I don’t even know where to begin. She used to call me every other day and talk about these new guys she was seeing. She never told me your full names but she told me everything else. ‘Oh Mya, they are so sweet and funny. Steve is amazing at his job and works to hard to make sure everything gets done while still being able to be there for me. I love watching Eddie play on stage. He gets so into the songs and his face lights up when he hears the fans singing along. Falling asleep in their arms is my new favorite place. I finally feel safe.’”

“When the news dropped, I called her but she didn’t answer. I wasn’t worried at the time because the way she described you, I thought ‘Thankfully, they have her and she has them.’ Then she came home and told me about you expecting her to hide in her apartment with zero information on what was happening. How you yelled at her and called her a fucking brat when she called you out.”

“Oh, and the icing on the cake? You tell her you love her for the first time over a dating website AFTER ALL THIS BULLSHIT YOU PUT HER THROUGH! Holden wore his asshole behavior out in the open for all to see. You made her believe you were different, leading her on before breaking her heart. After the stuff I read, I’m starting to believe Gina Frost.”

Both men absorbed what your best friend was saying, different emotions painting their features before finally landing on anger; not at her but themselves. 

“Your right.”, Steve replied in a sullen tone. “We fucked up. Hell, we did more than fuck up…”

“We’ve never cared about anyone the way we do her and that terrifies us. Not just because of our status or who we are even though that’s why Gina used us but…”, Eddie added. “The men underneath the fame and money are incredibly flawed.”

“Gina made us afraid of her hurting us but our own personal bullshit made us afraid of hurting her.”

“So this is better?”, Mya asked.

“My…where…where your phone?”, you slurred as your hand lazily reached in her direction.

“Y/N, I’m taking you back to your mom’s, honey, you don’t know need to call them.”

“No…not mom…Eddie…Steve…I need to make dem come back. They were here an’ an’…”

“How about you call them tomorrow morning, ok? It’s really late and—”

“I don’t want dem to leave again. Mya…please…”

“Hey, hey sweetheart, we’re right here. We haven’t gone anywhere.” Tears start to run down your cheeks again and the rockstar cups your face in his hand. “We’re right here and we’ll be here when you wake up. Just let Mya, take you home and get you in bed. Tomorrow you can call us and we’ll talk then alright?”

After you nod, Eddie adjusts your body again before closing the door. 

“You guys should get going.”

“Do you really love her?”, your best friend asks.

“Yes.”

Again, Mya takes a moment to gather her thoughts as her eyes shift between your now sleeping frame and them. 

“Her parents house isn’t far. You can follow me there.”

***

“Why are they here?”, your father asks in an annoyed tone as he eyes the men up and down. 

“It’s ok, Mr. Y/L/N. They just wanted to help get her situated and then they’ll be on their way.”, Mya answers in equal measure. 

“Is her room up here?”, Eddie inquires as he gestures towards the stairs. 

“Why don’t you come with us so you can get her changed into something comfier.”, Steve follows when your friend nods. 

“Why? You’re her whatevers right?”

“I don’t think it would be appropriate right now for us to do that.”

“I can help you.”, your mom responds out of nowhere. “Come on, gentlemen.”

After they get to your room, your mother turns on your bedside lamp as Eddie gently places you down on your bed. Taping the rockstars shoulder, she hands him an oversized shirt with your college insignia on it and some shorts. 

“Maybe you should…”

“I trust you, Mr. Munson. Plus I’m right here.” Her eyes studiously watch them as both boys work to change you out of your tight garment doing everything they could to not have to look at your body. Steve’s palm carefully cradled your head to make sure they didn’t jostle you around too much as you soundly slept. 

“Do you have a washrag or wipe or something for her makeup?”

Her head tilts at his question, impressed he even thought of that. Disappearing into your restroom, she came back with wet wipes, and Eddie thanked her as he took one and gently cleaned your face.

This was a bit harder to accomplish without moving you as your face scrunched and you whined. 

“Steve…stop…”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Blame him. That way if I don’t do this correctly it will be his fault.”, he teased making you sleepily giggle. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”, Eddie whispers.

“Thank you, ma’am, for letting us do this. We just wanted to make sure she got here safely.”

“Hm. You wanted to make sure she got back home in one piece but didn’t think to do that when it came to all this chaos you brought her into?”, you mom scolded as she folded her arms. 

“We did warn her—”

“No Mr. Harrington. You may have warned her about your lifestyle but you didn’t do anything to protect her when the fallout of that lifestyle presented itself. Holden ‘warned’ her about what life in New York would be like but when things got hard he abandoned her instead working with her. Like him, you left her alone.”

Nodding, their heads hung as they began to head towards the door before stopping. 

“I’m afraid.”, Eddie announces. “My mom died when I was young, my dad went to jail, people around me told me I’d never amount to anything, and then our ex did what she did. When we met Y/N, fuck, I thought she was perfect… and that scares me. I don’t want to lose her but I also don’t want to be the reason that spark inside of her dies.”

“Seems like a lose/lose, Eddie. But let me ask you something… what if your relationship with her had a happy ending? What if she didn’t hurt you like your ex and you don’t hurt her like people in your life?” She smiles softly as she pats his shoulder. “It’s a risk, boys, but you just need to decide who is worth taking that risk for. You’re more than welcome to stay in our spare bedroom if you would like.”

####################

When you woke up the next morning, you had a splitting headache, thankful that your pain reliever was still in your drawer by your bed. The sound of soft breathing startled you a bit and when you leaned over your bedframe, you were surprised to see Eddie asleep on your floor using his jacket as a pillow. Steve had placed himself in the reading chair you had in the corner with his head leaning against the wall. 

You didn’t realize how much you missed them till you saw their faces and you took the opportunity to refamiliarize yourself as your eyes scanned over them. The mogul was in jeans and a polo making you smile softly while silently missing the sleek suits that hugged him perfectly. The rockstar was still dressed the same as he usually was but his whole demeanor even while sleeping seemed heavy. 

Your heart broke for them until the last couple of weeks caught up with you and you remembered why you were here. 

Reaching for one of your pillows, you threw it their way, hitting Eddie’s chest before it bounced and hit Steve’s lap. 

“The fuck?”, he grumbled as he rubbed his eyes. 

“The fuck indeed. Why are you both here? How did you even know where I was?”

“Your best friend was posting pictures of you and tagging your location on Instagram. You weren’t answering your phone—”

“Yeah, Steve, for a reason. That doesn’t give you the right to come down here.”

“Thank God we did because some asshole was harassing you and Mya was having trouble getting you to her car to take you home.”

“No, Eddie. You playing hero doesn’t absolve you of what you did. You have no idea what I’ve been through!”

“We tried to call—”

“Oh, fuck you both!” As you start to get up to yell at them, a sharp sting runs through knee causing you to wince and sit back down. 

“Shit. Didn’t see that last night. Um, do you have a first kit or anything thing?”

When you don’t answer, the mogul goes on the hunt himself as Eddie kneels in front of you to look at the scrape on your knee. 

“Yeah, you fell on the concrete outside of the bar with some asshole trying to… I told him to fuck off.” Sitting on the bed beside you, Steve opens the little white box and starts to open a Band-Aid before his friend stops him. “Dude, you have to clean it first. It’s like you’ve never been in a fight before. Gimme this.”, he chuckles lightly as he takes the box and pulls out the antiseptic.

“You don’t have to do this. I’m not… I don’t belong to you anymore.”

His movements only halt for a second before Eddie continues taking care of you. 

“I don’t mind doing this. I like taking care of you.”, he murmurs. “Unless you want me to stop.”

“I don’t want you to but I didn’t want you to cast me aside either.”

“We—”

“Don’t say you didn’t, Steve, because you did.”

“We did.” His response surprised you as you turned your head in his direction. “We talked to your mom last night. She’s a very wise woman.”, he smirks as he watches Eddie continue his task. “Y/N, I worked so hard to get where I am and I don’t just mean taking over my dad’s company and doing the deals I do. When I was growing up, I was never enough for either of my parents but especially my father. In his eyes, I could always be just a little bit better.”

“I could shorten my time by one more second in the pool or get one more minute on the court. My grades could have been one point higher or I could have gotten three grand more out of a deal. He wanted me to be perfect but I learned after I graduated high school that bar was always changing.” When his eyes finally met yours, you saw the pain behind them. “Gina knew all this… that’s why she’s saying that about me. She knows it hurts me…people thinking I’m like my father.”

Eddie finishes placing the Band-aid on your skin and leans back against the wall across from you.

“My dad was a dick…to me and my mother. He cut us down all the time verbally but after she died it got worse. He would tell me I was stupid and a freak just like the people in our town. I left my house with more bruises than I could count on numerous occasions but his words, babe. I carry those everywhere even now. I never once, no matter how angry I was, called her anything demeaning even though I fucking wanted to. She would call us every name in the book but we never once belittled her or laid a hand on her.”

“When we met you, Jesus, I swear there was no girl we had ever met like you.”

“Beautiful, sarcastic, kind, understanding…”, Steve clarified when your eyebrows furrowed. “Y/N, you are everything we’ve ever wanted.”

“Stop…”, you whimper quietly. 

“I feel like somehow she knows that. That’s why she’s saying that stuff about us choosing you because you’re everything she’s not. We wouldn’t change anything about you. Not one thing, princess. But we are so fucking scared of getting hurt again.”

“And we’re afraid of hurting you.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What isn’t fair, honey?”

“Do you think trusting you was easy after what Holden did to me? I upended everything I knew to follow him and he broke my heart. I was terrified of starting over in any relationship let alone with two people but I got to know you and allowed myself to be vulnerable for you… you should be able to do that for me to.”

“You’re right, baby, and we are so sorry. We’re willing to try.”, Eddie pleaded as he leaned up to grab your hands. “We don’t even have to be in a relationship again or do anything sexual. We can start slow and go from there. We just miss you so much, Y/N. The way you smell, your sense of humor, the way you play with my hair when we’re lying in bed or watching tv.”

“The way you listen to us when we talk even if it’s about work.”, Steve chimes in. “Your cute little laugh and the way you wrap your arms around me like you haven’t seen me in years when it’s only been a few hours.”

“Ah good morning, gentlemen and my hung over child. How are we today?”, your mother teases as she grins your way. 

“We’re fine thank you but if you could lower your voice a smidge that would be nice.”, you sass back making her chuckle as both men grin softly. 

“Your dad made breakfast if you and your guests are hungry. Just don’t throw it up or you’ll hurt his feelings.”

You smile as you playfully wave her off before turning your attention back to them. 

“Do you have to go back home for work or anything?”

“No, ma’am. We’re all yours.”

“Unless you want us to go back home.”, Eddie adds with sad inflection in his voice hoping and praying that you don’t. 

“Ok… I’m going to change and then head downstairs. You, um, you should stay for breakfast. Knowing my father, if my mom told him you were staying he probably poisoned something but…I’m sure you’ll be fine.”, you joke as you get up and head towards your closet, tossing them a little wink before collecting some clothes and closing the bathroom door. 

####################

@aol19 @paradisepoisons  @paleidiot @dashingdeb16

@lilaclazer @joannamuns9n @thwippyparker @emotionaldreamer

@aactuaaltraash @alastorssimp @mygirlchaos @starksbabie @imagine-all-the-imagines @nailbatanddungeon

[dhruvkumaar]

Novels are not movies.

Visual media has taken on the world by storm. It’s the next big thing in the evolution of humanity, maybe. It’s quite certainly changed the way we entertain ourselves. And with the recent spread of short-form content, visual media has also become cheap, disposable, and easily accessible to the masses—perfect recipe to make a product famous.

Alright, I’ve been a little too dramatic, lol. But for real, I’m one of those who’s severely addicted to Instagram Reels. Whenever I’m done scrolling, I feel like I’ve completely wasted my time—I could have read a novel, watched a movie, or caught up with my favorite mangas. But instead of all those ways to relax—and believe me (pwlease) that I only open Insta to relax, when I’m free—I just waste my time.

I love my novels and manga, mind ya, so when I catch myself wasting precious time that I could have instead used to consume them, I cuss myself. And then I go scroll some more Insta, because I’m an absolute idiot.

Anyway, back to the topic. Visual media has absolutely taken over our lives. I won’t go into the debate of whether this is a good thing or not, but we all can agree that it’s an undeniable fact. Video is everywhere.

Because—and lemme repeat myself—it’s cheap, disposable, and easily accessible today.

And because of such exposure to video storytelling, beginning authors forget that novels are not a visual medium. Yep, here goes my rant.

***

#01 - The Problem

The problem is simple—these kids have too much access to their smartphones. And these smartphones are filled with videos, like a dustbin with its lid hanging on because of all that garbage overfilling it. (Damn, I sound like a boomer.)

And therefore, when these new authors begin writing, they can’t help but imagine a sort of movie or a TV show as their story. And that’s where the problem is—novels are not supposed to be movies.

Movies are a visual media. That means they’re composed of pictures. Images. But guess what novels are composed of?

Text. Words.

It seems pretty basic. I mean, everybody knows this distinction. But what they don't know, however, are the implications of this distinction.

Personally, I began writing with film-novels too. And those novels are bad. Genuinely. I cringe at the fact that I could even mail editors and believe they’d accept them. Good thing they never did.

What’s a film-novel, though? Well, the idea is pretty clear—it’s a novel, but imagined in the form of a film. So, it’s like a film, but in text.

It’s like you’ve written the film as a novel, instead of writing it as a screenplay or something, maybe.

But you’d ask me—why? Why is it even a mistake? Everybody has a different writing style. And to that, I’d tell you one thing—the audience. The audience is different. The media is different. You can’t expect a cinephile to read your book. And since it’s not like a professional novel, a (Googles the correct term) bibliophile certainly won't.

So, who’s gonna read your story?

No one—because it’s neither a film, nor a novel. It’s a film-novel, an illogical mix of the two.

Everyone drinks water, and everyone likes ice-cream. But you can't… No, I’m not even completing that sentence. Ew.

Anyway, you get the idea, lol.

***

#02 - Identify

So, what does a film-novel even look like?

And for that, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you,

The lean figure was standing on the other side of the railing three floors up on the ground of the school building where children below were shouting and kicking football upon each other, wearing white football jerseys. The figures, as they ran all over the ground, seemed very small as I looked at them. The goalkeeper of the right side, who was just beneath my white shoe, kicked the ball so hard that it flew in air and went directly to the other foot of mine. The other players shouted “Whoaaa!” as they saw the ball flying. But suddenly, two of them looked upwards and saw me. One of them pointed towards me and then shouted, “Hey, who’s he?!” All the other players started walking towards that boy who was in the middle of the field with their heads tilted up above on me. Another one shouted, “Hey! What’cha doin’, eh?!” My narrow eyes, which had dark spots beneath them, looked at the boys from behind my spectacles. I then moved my head a little up and saw my shiny gakuran jacket fluttered by my shiny yellow colored buttons as the wind started blowing from my left side. I was able to feel the wind dancing upon my soft skin as I closed my eyes and turned my head upwards. I took a deep breath, and then exhaled it out with my mouth. I then again took a breath. This time, when I exhaled it out with my mouth, I was able to feel the saliva of my mouth upon my lips. I tilted my head and turned towards my arm, which was trembling a little. Both of my hands were still holding the railing of the school’s rooftop. I then turned left and then looked on my other arm. “Hey! Get down!” One of the persons from beneath shouted. I turned my narrowed eyes towards the ground, the teachers, a large gang of footballers and students, and some even workers had gathered in a circle. I turned my head towards the front. I looked at a couple of brown colored and blue-green colored houses in front of me, which stood high and mighty. Beneath them was the clear blue sky.

A wall of text!

Warning: you don’t really need to read all of it. But you probably did, lol.

Anyway, it’s the opening scene from one of my first novels. And, as much as I hate to say this—it’s pretty sh*t. It has a lot of problems—no paragraph divisions, for example, as well as a lot of grammatical mistakes too. But the biggest problem with the text is that it’s just images.

Reading this text, I dare you to highlight one single sentence that might tell you anything about the narrator.

The narrator is narrating the motions, not the emotions.

(Damn, that was a dope line to say, man.)

The narrator is only telling you about the images and actions and dialogues and thoughts. Even though it’s in first-person POV, you feel distant from the narrator. And, even in third-person POV, authors are supposed to make sure the distance between the narrator and the reader remains at a minimum.

That’s how you get a film-novel—that’s filled with scene-descriptions, actions, and dialogues. There’s no narrations in it. The readers don’t know the thoughts of these characters.

***

#03 - Is it really a problem, though?

Well, you might ask me—is it really such a big problem?

Heck yeah.

The reason is pretty simple, actually—no one wants to read a film-novel. These novels are filled with only descriptions and actions—that’s too much of mental effort. these novels make their readers keep on imagining stuff, and no reader wants to do that.

Because it’s easier to look at pictures than to imagine them based on text. And that’s why your film-novels won’t work.

See, you need to understand this—novels are different than film. Sure, novels are a form of storytelling too, and they do include visual effort, such as descriptions, action, and all that. But, all that is not the main selling point of a novel.

The main selling point of a novel is the emotions. Emotions captured in words, in situations—caught in context like a butterfly in a child’s hand. Films can display emotions, but novels put those emotions into words.

Narration is what forms the greatest part of a novel. Narration is where a novel actually shines. Narration is what the readers come to read.

And, as you could guess, films don’t narrate. Consider this,

And rain made him feel like crying. He gulped down, trying to keep the lump of his throat in check. He couldn’t cry in the middle of so many other kids. They’ll ask questions, and what will he say to them, huh?

He was sorry.

For what?

For everything he did. And for everything he didn’t.

The day had just begun. It’d be long before it ends, y’know. He just couldn't wait for it to end. There was no lifting up his mood. Not until tomorrow.

How do you display this in a film? The answer—you can't. However hard you try, you can't.

Such narrations are where the art of novels shine. Such narrations are what differentiates a novel from a visual media.

***

#04 - Is it really a problem, though? (pt.ii)

All this talk constantly reminds me of Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. It’s a literary achievement and really experimental in a lot of stuff that it does. For example, the novel has no dashes or apostrophes—and it’s not like these punctuation marks were not needed, they’re just not used. So, you’d find a lot of grammatical mistakes throughout the text.

And also, one thing that McCarthy ignored—and that’s relevant to the discussion we’re having—is that there’s literally zero narration. Zero.

McCarthy adopts a style that’s similar to a third-person POV, and is kinda like how I used to write when I was little—just with paragraphs and better scene-descriptions and action-descriptions. A lot better, as you can observe if you read his work.

Anyway, he didn’t have any narrative elements in his text. So the readers don’t really know what these characters are thinking or planning to do. They just know that these characters are somehow surviving.

I don’t wanna give away most of the plot of the novel, but the basic premise of the novel is that there’s a father-son duo who’s been caught in this apocalypse-type situation, and are traveling down the road to the south part of the country to escape the harsh winters that the north experiences. The novel doesn’t reveal a lot—the readers don’t know the names of these characters, the thoughts of the characters are hidden most of the time, and you don’t know what actually happened that most of humanity is dead and society is completely gone.

Now, McCarthy did it for a reason. A scarcity of punctuation marks reflects a form of scarcity in the scenery around them. Because most of it is, well, gone. Humanity is gone, and stuff is decaying. You don’t find fresh food anymore. Scavenge all you want—one day, all the canned food will expire, and there will be nothing to eat. Except fruits and veggies, that need to be grown somewhere. And nobody likes the latter, honestly.

And the scene-descriptions are so tough to read. They’re an actual pain. I have had a really hard time deciphering most of it, because the vocab is too high, and probably the sentences do not flow into each other easily. I can’t say anything about the sentences if I don’t understand them, y’know.

But, man, maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Maybe that’s why McCarthy wrote the descriptions in this way—to symbolize the mental stress that the characters go through as they experience this world, this form of reality that they were not meant to be in.

And maybe the novel is so lacking in narrations because the characters’ minds have gone numb. They’re forgetting language. With almost zero human interaction most of the time, they are forgetting how to think and interact in words. You lose the skills you don’t really use anymore, y’know. And these guys are so obviously depressed, so they don’t think about the world. They are used to the sad reality they live in. No point in complaining how bad the food is if that’s all you’re gonna eat all your life.

So, a scarcity of narrations tell you a lot about the story and its characters. It reflects something, it symbolizes something. The Road is a masterfully crafted piece of prose, please don’t get inspired to write in this style just because. This style won’t work on most of the stories.

Yeah, just because he wrote like this means you can too. Let me tell you, dear reader, that all of what we call rules are meant to be broken. Nothing is absolute. But here’s the catch—you can’t break the rules just because you don’t know how to apply them.

Authors need to learn these rules, because that’s what constitutes most of the written prose. That’s what forms the basics of the craft. So, learn them, understand them, and know how to use them. And then make a conscious decision not to use them.

See, these rules are like tools or weapons in your arsenal. And you need to keep your arsenal ready for everything. And then, you can decide which weapon to use, when to use it, and how to use it. Because you don’t know what sort of idea hits your head next and you’d suddenly need some of them.

***

#04 - Solution

So, how to make sure your novel actually comes off as a novel and not a film-novel? Unfortunately, the answer to that question… is that I don't know.

I know this sounds so absurd, but it is what it is. As someone who’s so recently started studying prose, I know this problem exists, but I still don’t know how to fix it. You could say I know my novels are film-novels, and I’m trying to fix it. But I, personally, am having a lot of trouble with it.

However, one way I can recommend is to write from your character’s POV, not your POV. You probably imagined your story as a film, but that’s now how you’re supposed to write it. Get into your characters’ head, see what they’re seeing, and write that.

But it’s tough. For me, at least. I always find myself going back to my old ways, and I think I need to re-write almost all of my scene-descriptions and actions because of it.

Lol, how ironic.

***

Conclusion

Yeah, and that’s it. I hope you liked this blog. Sorry I hadn’t posted in along while, I was going through a writers’ block. Stuff is happening these days, y’know.

Anyway, I’ll see you again in a couple of days, with something new. Bye-byee!

[spirkkock]

Queer Text/Subtext in Shallow Grave (1994)

CW: BLOOD, STABBING, MURDER, NON-SEXUAL NUDITY, DRUG USE

I guess I wrote a rough essay... about the queer subtext in Shallow Grave... Here... have the rough draft if you'd like...

Overt references to queerness:

When we look at contemporary movies, we often have a knee-jerk reaction to dismiss any “funny” references to queerness or sexuality to be taken as jokes and nothing further than that.  Unfortunately, this has become all too common, and does a disservice to the films we watch. So I will be taking every moment of referenced or implied queerness as serious, even if it is delivered in a humorous way. Especially because this movie is not meant to be a comedy (despite some humorous moments).

Furthermore, references to queerness in movies should be taken seriously because they establish not only the existence of queerness (in universe, as one might say), but can also demonstrate the character’s attitudes towards queerness.  Its important to notice that at no point in this movie are any references to queerness played for a laugh – they might be humorous, but we are not meant to laugh at the character for being queer, which indicates that queerness is taken seriously within the universe of the movie (or at least between the characters).

The first overt reference to queerness is when Juliet asks an interviewee if he is having an affair with a man or a woman and the man is not given screen time to answer. This same man bursts into tears after Alex, a man, says, “When did anyone last say to you these exact words, ‘you are the sunshine of my life’?” (this is a reference to the Stevie Wonder song of the same name). While it is technically (according to the script) said by Alex to a different interviewee, the arrangement of the shots does not indicate that, as it cuts directly from Alex asking the question to the man crying. This could imply a number of things.

The second overt reference to queerness comes at the charity ball, where a Scotsman says, “ladies and gentlemen, and those of you who are neither or both,” which is then met with a drumroll. Alex immediately responds, offended, “where did they dig him up?” implying that Alex finds the joke to be outdated and, perhaps, distasteful.

The third overt reference is when Alex dresses in drag. He also appears in the same scene, on the tape recording wearing some rather flamboyant costumes.  The fact that Alex is in drag is not addressed by any of the other characters, nor by Alex, indicates that this is either a usual occurrence, or, for some reason, entirely unremarkable to the characters.  Specifically, it is interesting that David does not comment on it, as he walks into the scene unsuspecting.

The fourth, and final, overt reference to queerness is when, upon being told of Juliet and David’s relationship, Alex says to Juliet, “I’d do exactly the same thing except I don’t think I’m his type.” If the line is interpreted sarcastically (which I think most viewers will) then we can assume that he is jealous of David for being with Juliet. If it is interpreted as earnest, then we can assume that he is jealous of Juliet for being with David. It also could be an ambiguous combination of both.

Queer Subtext:

Now let us dig into the subtext, which I actually find to be much juicier....

The Squash Scene and the Car

Directly after the interviews have concluded, we are given a scene which helps frame the relationship between the three characters as one built on dynamics of domination and submission and gives us a baseline to understand each of the character’s roles within this dynamic. This scene takes place on the Squash court.

There is a deviation here between the script and the film, as several lines have been cut, but I will include them as they add some context to the scene.

In the above text, Alex indicates that he sees this game of squash as a struggle for dominance. In this case, the game between Alex and David is won by Alex, who then, despite having called David a “bad loser,” demonstrates that he is a sore winner when he gloats over David by saying, “defeat, defeat, defeat – sporting, personal, financial, professional, sexual, and everything.”

David is clearly annoyed by this and storms off. This scene sets up the ongoing power dynamic between Alex and David in which Alex is the dominant one in the relationship. It also is the first time that we see David being emasculated by Alex, which will continue occurring for the first half of the movie.

Immediately after David leaves the court, Juliet takes his place to play a match against Alex.  In this scene she is wearing a rather masculine outfit which is similar to that of the two male characters. She also sports short hair throughout the movie, but this is the scene in which she appears the most “boyish.”  When she enters the court to play, Alex begins to make the same statement (“Did you know squash is-”) that he made (in the script) earlier, to David. Thus he is using this exercise as a way to exert dominance, not only over David, his male sexual rival, but also over Juliet, thus implying that she is on equal footing – therefore also a sexual rival. However, Juliet cuts him off and tells him, “Alex, just serve.”

The action of cutting off Alex denies him domination in that moment, thus establishing that the two of them are on much more equal footing, or possibly that Juliet is in fact the dominant one between the two of them.  This scene serves to establish that typical gendered dynamics are somewhat blurred between these three individuals, and that David, instead of Juliet, takes on the most feminine/passive role in the group.

The next scene once again highlights the complicated gender and power dynamics within the group.  Juliet drives the car (masculine) while Alex and David bicker with one another from the back seat and passenger seat, respectively.

In this scene, addressing Alex’s win, David says, “Victory is the same as defeat – it’s giving into destructive competitive urges,” which distances him from competition, and could be interpreted as him rejecting the masculine urge to dominate.  Alex, in return, emasculates him by belittling his reliance on a “discussion group,” (implied to be therapy). During this scene, Alex and David are looking at one another, however, the rear-view mirror blocks both of their eyes. This symbolizes their unwillingness to see “eye-to-eye and perhaps a certain level of repression between the two of them.  Also in this scene, Juliet physically dominates Alex by elbowing him in the chest, and attempts to emasculate him verbally by implying that a woman that he is interested in hates him. She does this specifically in response to Alex’s emasculation of David, thus establishing that while Alex might be dominant over David, she is dominant over him.  During this exchange, however, in her attempt to protect David from Alex, David is further emasculated because he relies on someone else to defend him.

Discovering the Body / Three Friends, Three Bodies

When the trio discovers Hugo’s body we see some more of this interesting dynamic.

David stands by shocked while Alex ransacks the room searching for paraphernalia, while Juliet (the doctor among them) attends to the body.

Hugo’s nude corpse in this scene represents male vulnerability. He is prone and exposed on the bed, having overdosed on heroin, and can do nothing while his privacy is violated (by the dominant, Alex).  The injection of drugs into the body, in this case, could also be said to symbolize emasculation - the breaking of the body barrier through penetration of a syringe (phallus). This exemplifies a significant cultural fear at the time – death of the male body via penetration, which had become a major concern due to the HIV/AIDS epidemic. (If I was writing this essay for real, this is where I would insert articles that demonstrate horror’s preoccupation with AIDS and gay stuff during the 80s and 90s, but this is just for fun)

David, of course, is enamored by this display of the fragility of the male body. I would suggest that he identifies with Hugo’s vulnerability in death, and that the treatment of Hugo’s body by Alex and Juliet mirrors the way that they treat David. While Alex takes advantage of Hugo’s vulnerability in death by violating his privacy (thus dominating it), Juliet emasculates Hugo’s corpse by tending to it.  In one shot, we also see Juliet’s fingers dangerously close to penetrating Hugo’s mouth.

We can also expand upon this by recognizing that the two male characters that are pursuing Hugo and the trio in search of the money, are parallels to Juliet and David.  The two men are able to dominate Juliet and Alex through violence, only then to be killed by David. Thus, the three bodies that the trio end up burying are parallels to the trio themselves.

David Overcomes Emasculation, Alex Becomes Emasculated.

Alex’s emasculation of David continues throughout the first half of the movie, culminating in David being forced to dismember Hugo’s body (the very body that he identifies with).  When this occurs, he becomes the violator/aggressor/dominator.

This occurrence proceeds the change in the group dynamic. Around the midpoint of the movie (during the charity ball) we see David transition into a dominant role in the trio, while Alex becomes submissive.

This is demonstrated first by Juliet dominating Alex while they dance. Alex falls to the floor, drunk, and Juliet takes that moment to step on Alex’s mouth, forcing him to lick the bottom of her shoe.  He then willingly kisses her ankle, meeting her eye contact submissively. It is made clear through his facial expressions and laughter, that he finds joy in this act, thus embracing the emasculation (whereas David had always responded poorly, rejecting it).

Alex then attempts to re-exert control over David by forcing him to toast when he doesn’t want to. David eventually concedes after Alex yells at him, demanding that he toast to “love and happiness forever.”  (Alex also humiliates and emasculates Cameron in this scene).

David finally exerts control when Brian McKenly (a man keen on pursuing Juliet) interrupts their conversation. David responds by standing on level with Brian and stating, “If you want to talk to my girlfriend, you talk to me first. If you want to dance with her, you apply in writing three weeks in advance or you end up inside of a fucking bin bag. You didn’t apply – so you don’t dance!”

While David shrinks a bit afterwards, admitting that he found the interaction stressful, both Juliet and Alex embrace him, in high spirits (one might say… aroused…). Alex exclaims, “He [David] was really good – fucking bin bag – I really liked that. You really explored your maleness to the full there! You were magnificent.” This statement indicates that Alex, who has rarely had an encouraging word for David over the course of the movie, is invigorated upon seeing that David has stepped into a dominant role, exerting his masculinity onto others. Immediately following this, Alex is assaulted in the bathroom by Cameron (who he had emasculated twice prior) and two other men, who beat him quite badly, thus emasculating Alex.

The following day, Alex’s emasculation is made complete when he dresses in drag and spends the day in debauchery with Juliet. The framing of his and Juliet’s bodies during this scene is also worth noting, as they are often visually indistinguishable from one another – with Alex being noticeably more feminine than Juliet in several shots due to his makeup, jewelry, dress, and rather delicate shoulders.

(Notably, during the entirety of the ball scene and much of the drag/video scene, Alex is often pictured smoking a cigar instead of his usual cigarette, which could be said to stand in for a phallus.)

From this point on, David is almost always dominant over Alex. (One notable exception is one moment where Alex leans in close to David during dinner and orders, “now swallow,” while making very intense eye contact. David regains control by reminding Alex that David was the one who dismembered Hugo’s body.)

After this point it is clear that David is undergoing some extreme psychological stress, and has become paranoid and aggressive.  His shift in demeanor is most clearly symbolized by this shot, where he calls out of work so that he can begin making plans to protect the cash.

The Wickerman

During one scene, an injured Alex lays on the couch and watches the final scene of The Wickerman (1973). 

The Wickerman tells the tale of a conservative Christian police officer who goes to a Scottish isle to investigate the disappearance of a girl, only to discover that the locals are practicing a form of paganism that involves human sacrifice. The police officer discovers that he is in fact the sacrifice.  It is implied that he is the sacrifice because he is a virgin and a heterosexual, and he is unwilling to have sex with Christopher Lee’s character.  Christopher Lee was most well known at the time for playing the lead in Dracula (1958) – another movie with extremely well documented queer subtext. The audience of The Wickerman would have been aware of this.

During this scene, the drumbeats of the pagan ritual, where the police officer is being marched to his execution/sacrifice, synchronizes with David’s steps overhead, a sound that the characters and the audience come to associate with surveillance and dread.

Honestly this scene has me a bit stumped. Who does Alex identify with in this situation? The heterosexual victim? – is the ending subverted because his submission culminates in… the penetration of Alex's body… thus making him queer? Idk it's been a long day.

Surveillance

During the second half of the movie, David moves into the Attic and rarely comes down when his housemates are home.  He is protecting the money, both from his housemates and from the men who eventually come looking for it. While Alex and Juliet are brutalized by the men, David is the one who has set a trap for them, and is able to kill them. He also leads the trio to dispose of the bodies, and drives the van (whereas Alex had driven the van the first time they disposed of the bodies, when he had been the dominant one in the relationship).

During his time in the attic, David drills holes in the ceiling so that he can spy on his housemates. He is literally in a dominant position over them, looking down on them while they go about their daily tasks. In one scene, he spies on Alex and Juliet while they are sleeping. In this scene, he is shown first to be watching Alex. David is also in a state of undress that we have not seen before, implying a certain sensuality to the observation. We do not get to see Alex in a state of undress, but the scene finishes with Alex putting his shoes on, the camera looking down from above, implying David’s Point of view, and that he had watched the whole time. After Alex leaves, David moves to watch Juliet, in a scene that is much longer and more explicitly inappropriate and sexualized, especially because we come to understand that David’s temporary attic bed is located directly over her bed. However, before she begins undressing, he looks away and holds his head in his hands.

This scene simultaneously offers us a leveling effect between the two objects of David’s gaze (Alex and Juliet), while simultaneously prioritizing the heterosexual coupling. However, the implication that there is shame associated with the heterosexual gaze, complicates the situation.

Penetration with the Drill (Phallus)

When Alex goes into the attic to look for the money (and finds it in the water tank), he climbs back down the ladder only to be confronted by David, who is holding a drill (phallus) as a weapon.  Alex’s hands are wet from the water, and he frantically wipes them on the seat of his pants, behind his back, visually placing his hands as a barrier to his anus. The Drill makes contact with Alex's head and breaks the skin in an act of penetration (the body barrier is broken). This is the first scene in which David directly engages in domination (and penetration) of Alex.

David’s Glasses and Alex’s Photo

Lenses, mirrors, and portals/doorways are deeply significant visual aids in this movie, but I want to highlight the one that stood out to me the most. When Juliet and David have (implied) sex, at which point they solidify their status as a couple, David removes his glasses, and places them on Juliet’s bedside table.  Underneath the glasses is a photo of Alex in costume, a cigar in his mouth, framed through the lens of the glasses.  The photo was taken on the day in which we see Alex at his most feminine, at a point where he had been thoroughly emasculated (beaten in a bathroom by a man that he had emasculated multiple times). The framing of the photo, through the lens of David’s glasses implies that this is how David sees Alex – costumed, emasculated, and with a phallus in his mouth.

This photo is also shown once more in the film; David holds the photo of Alex as he lies in his attic bed, and he pins it above his head so he can look at it. The scene cuts to Alex, also in bed, who then gets up. It once again cuts back to David, who also gets up, and we see that Juliet lies asleep next to him. This follows a pattern of shots that we’ve seen before in the film (see the Surveillance section), where we see David watching Alex in what could be interpreted as a sexual or romantic way, before the camera reveals Juliet and lingers significantly. The implication is that whatever there is between David and Alex always gives way to the relationship between David and Juliet.

Returning to the glasses - the final time that we see them is during the climax of the movie. The three characters are struggling against one another, and David’s head is forced into the refrigerator so that Alex can try and smash him with the door.  He manages to throw Alex off, but not before his glasses are caught on the shelf of the refrigerator, thus knocking them off his face.  Having David’s glasses be knocked off would not typically be significant in a fight scene such as this, however the camera goes out of its way to linger on this shot, indicating that the symbolism here is important.  The other time that we have seen David remove his glasses has been before he has (implied) sex with Juliet. In this case, the removal of the glasses occurs just before David pins Alex in his final act of domination, which then culminates in the ultimate symbolic act of sexual penetration – David stabbing Alex with a knife (phallus).

NOTE: David is also pictured without glasses at the beginning of the film, where he is lying on his back, and halfway through the film, after he has dismembered Hugo in a symbolic act of violence against his own vulnerability.  In the first scene we hear his monologue; “I’m not ashamed, I’ve known love, I’ve known rejection. I’m not afraid to declare my feelings. Take trust for instance, or friendship. These are the important things in life. These are the things that matter, that help you on your way. If you can’t trust your friends well, then what then? What then? This could have been any city, but all the same.” It is unclear until the end, but it seems that the first time that we see David, right at the beginning, we are actually seeing him postmortem in the morgue. Meaning that the monologue is a lament on his life... (You're not ashamed of what, David? Being a bit gay, perhaps?)

Penetration with the Knife (Phallus)

At the climax of the movie, after David’s glasses have been removed, we arrive at David’s final act of domination over Alex.  David pins Alex to the floor by sitting on his stomach, with Alex’s legs pinned underneath his knees in a position that could be interpreted as sexual.  He then holds Alex by the throat, and stabs him in the shoulder, slicing clean through and penetrating the floor.  The act of stabbing (penetrating) a victim with a knife (phallus) is one often noted in analysis of horror films, as having sexual implications (again – I’d find some article about it here if I was a serious writer lol).

Before David can stab Alex again with a second knife, David is stabbed with a knife through the throat from behind by Juliet.  Thus Juliet, who has been a dominant character throughout the movie, is symbolically penetrating David with a phallus. Furthermore, the location of the stabbing in the throat and from behind, implies that David has now suffered, once again, an emasculation, just as he had just preformed on Alex.

David collapses and dies, just as Hugo did, from emasculation through the body barrier being broken from penetration. Thus, David’s identification with Hugo’s corpse and the vulnerability that it represented, is complete in this moment.

Juliet then kneels over Alex, taking up the same position that David had just occupied, and places her hand on the knife in Alex’s shoulder, pressing on it, thus taking David’s place as the one to dominate Alex.  She then removes her shoe, and in an act that mirrors the scene from the charity ball in which she dominated Alex by having him lick her shoe/foot, she uses her shoe to hit the knife three times, driving it deeper into his shoulder, further penetrating him.  Thus, in her final interaction with both David, and Alex, she has penetrated them.

As she puts her shoe back on, we can see inside of the refrigerator, where we once again see David’s glasses, recalling once again that this scene is coded as sexual in nature through the movie's visual language.

As the movie closes, we discover that Alex is alive (probably), and that he has hidden the money underneath the floorboard. In the ultimate irony of the movie, the character that spent the second half of the movie being coded as the submissive (homosexual receiving) partner, has come out on top, despite the other two character’s attempt to dominate (and kill) him.

Uhhh the credits roll, and they're all shown as they were in the first scene of the movie, smiling, laughing, and the love song "Happy Heart" plays...

[zarekthelordofthefries]

BG3 Companion Sexuality Headcanons

Astarion: Pansexual. Has a slight preference for men. Has a complicated relationship with feelings of attraction and connection, so doesn't usually like thinking about his own sexual identity. Thinks Wyll is the hottest other party member.

Lae'zel: Pansexual, kind of. Doesn't really relate to sex and gender in the same way as the Faerunian companions. Githyanki socially de-emphasize romance, and all sex is generally for pleasure since Vlaakith decides who bears eggs. Lae'zel is alloromantic, but romance isn't generally at the front of her mind in a relationship. Neither is gender; ultimately Lae'zel is attracted to conviction and fighting prowess, moreso even than anything physical.

Shadowheart: Bisexual. Very slight preference for men. (EDIT: I've rotated this in my mind after people pointed it out and I think actually Shadowheart has a slight preference for women.) Remained closeted into adulthood, not because the other Sharrans would discriminate against her (they generally don't care about sexuality) but because she wanted to impress everyone with how well she could keep the secret. Also, excessively kinky.

Gale: Bisexual. Has more experience with women than with men, but that has more to do with circumstances than preference. Though physical appearance isn't not a factor, he would probably describe himself as a sapiosexual; he's attracted to knowledge, intellectual curiosity, and strong opinions. Had crushes on several teachers in wizard school.

Wyll: Bisexual. Realized he wasn't just attracted to women at a young age, and his father was very supportive. No preference between genders, but one of his favorite things to do is court gentlemen exactly the same way he courts ladies; he likes being the devoted chivalric prince to men since he knows it's less common for them to be flattered and told they're beautiful.

Karlach: Pansexual. Years of being unable to make genuine connections with anyone have made her horny for affection, kindness, and commitment. Maybe had some gender preference before going to Hell, but her time there has given her lots of time to consider basically any options. Has at least a slight crush on basically every other party member.

Halsin: Pansexual. No gender preference. Halsin has had centuries to explore his sexuality, and his robust understanding of nature gives him a non-binary perspective on gender and sex. Nothing is a casual fling for this dude, though -- if you show the slightest bit of interest in him he will dedicate his whole heart to you. And also anyone else who shows interest in him at the same time.

Minthara: I didn't actually have Minthara in my party, but from what I've seen she seems like a pretty traditional drow, and when I think of drow and sexuality I sort of imagine a reverse of ancient Greek customs; bisexuality is the norm, men are prized for their beauty and for marriagibility, but it's expected that women will also have flings with other women, and those relationships are often considered more meaningful. I imagine Minthara follows those lines, being bisexual and assuming she may one day marry a beautiful man but being more inclined to meaningful, affectionate relationships with women, due to her own prejudices moreso than preference between genders.

Jaheira: Thought she was straight for the first century of her life, but has more recently opened up to other possibilities. Isn't particularly interested in marriage or a deep interpersonal romance at this point in her life, but she has entered a state of questioning her sexuality -- she's just not super interested in experimenting with actual relationships. She's got more important stuff to do. Did have a fling with Ninefingers that neither of them tell anyone about.

Minsc: Doesn't like labels. Minsc isn't interested in finding a partner, doesn't really care about sex, and is enthusiastic about romance mainly when other people do it. He hasn't given a lot of thought to where he might fall on any sexual/romantic spectrum, but he definitely sees beauty in all of his friends. He will give you the most heartfelt and often embarassing compliments on your personality, style, and appearance. Does that mean he's attracted to you? Maybe, maybe not, but there's definitely something queerplatonic going on.

[shakespeareanwannabe]

As You Wish, Chapter 3

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister, reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, swearing, verbal arguing, references to divorce, death of a character, injuries, misinformation about the US Navy and how it works (I tried my best)

Briefing Room, Classified Location, 11 years ago

Briefing rooms after missions go horrifically sideways were typically quiet. Those who were involved in the mission were usually too busy inside their own heads, trying to shove feelings and memories into tiny little lockboxes that would then get shoved into other boxes and hidden in the dark recesses of the mind, only springing free when things got…dark. The top brass was usually reading reports and gathering steam, preparing to bring the hand of God down upon the person (or people) who were responsible for the mission going…poorly. Therefore, the rooms were usually can-hear-a-pin-drop quiet, but they were never this…still. This silent.

The fifteen lieutenants stood in four rows and, while most of them were four people deep, the one missing a person stood out in cold contrast, as did the empty spot at the front of the room, where the team leader usually stood. Cyclone, Warlock and Hondo stood just past that spot; heads ducked together in a whispered conversation. Besides that, nobody moved. Nobody stirred. Not Bob, balancing on a pair of crutches with a cast bracing his leg up to his knee. Not Fritz, his arm strapped against his chest to immobilize it. Not Rooster, with a black and purple bruise on his temple, or Coyote, a neat row of stitches gracing his cheek, or Hangman, who felt a painful twinge every time he breathed, the binding protecting his bruised and fractured ribs pulling taut with every inhale. None dared to move or fidget.

Finally, Admiral Simpson moved into the empty space at the front of the room and sighed.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen…I don’t think I need to tell you what an absolute clusterfuck that was.” Fanboy flinched, his head ducking fractionally as the words carried clear across the gathering. “In fact, it was such an absolute clusterfuck that Rear Admiral Cain has decided to disband the Dagger Squad. Immediately.”

Jake heard Yale gasp behind him, and he would have too, if it weren’t for the sinking weight in his chest. The mission had been a clusterfuck, there was no doubt about it, but they had achieved their mission. He had risked his ass after watching Maverick’s plane get shot out of the sky, putting all thought of his little Charlie girl waiting for him at home and the whisper of ‘god damnit, Buttercup was right’ out of his head, and he had taken charge. He had been the one to pull Rooster out of his single-minded mission to avenge Mav’s death, he had been the one to take down the jet that had been targeting an ejected Bob and Natasha, and he, Payback and Fanboy had been the ones to deliver the payload in the end, effectively taking out the target.

He had brought all but one of them home safely, but he didn’t feel any sense of relief, or even grief over Mav’s death. All he felt was the warmth of his baby girls, curled up against his chest as he rocked them in their nursery. All he tasted was the sweetness of Buttercup’s kiss, all he smelled was that newborn baby smell that he swore to God was the best thing he’d ever smelled in his life. All he saw was Buttercup’s tear-stained face as she gathered Abby in her arms and left, the sound of the door clicking shut echoing in his ears. If his reaction time had been even a millisecond slower, he could’ve been in Mav’s position, and then what? What would happen to his Charlie then?

“…because of the nature of this mission, disbanding the Dagger Squad, and because you all are the best of the best, the Rear Admiral has decided to make you an offer. As you know, the Navy doesn’t often let you make very many decisions, so I want you to think carefully before you respond, because we do need your answer today. Your first option is to be absorbed into another Squad; in which case you would be shipping out today for your new assignments. Yes, Lieutenant Fitch, if both members of your team decide to go with option one, you will be keeping your WSO. Your second option is—”

The clatter of metal against wood stole the words from Cyclone’s lips, and everyone turned towards the mild-mannered, quiet, shy WSO standing behind the glaringly empty space in the third row.

“—retirement, with a full pension and an honourable discharge,” Cyclone finished, staring down at Bob’s nameplate, lying on the desk beside him.

“I think it’s pretty clear what I choose,” the WSO spoke softly, but no one in the squad could miss the barely tempered rage in his voice.

“Lieutenant Floyd—”

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Granted,” Warlock stepped up next to Cyclone.

“I almost died on this mission,” Bob stated frankly, his gaze never wavering from Cyclone’s face. “I had to eject Lieutenant Trace and I from our aircraft after she was struck in the face by shrapnel that broke through our windshield and destroyed her helmet. Debris that came from Maverick’s plane.” The silence was heavy, tension mounting with every word, but Bob pressed on. “Nat’s never going to fly again. They already told me. And frankly, sir? I don’t know if I have it in me to bond with another pilot after holding my best friend’s body as we waited for rescue, already knowing that our team lead was KIA.”

Cyclone opened his mouth to speak, but a gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“I understand, son. If you, or anyone else, decide to retire, know that you’ll be going with the full gratitude of the US Navy,” Warlock responded.

“Thank you, sir,” Bob saluted, then propelled himself out of line, crutching past the waiting rows of his friends and coworkers as he headed for the door. “I’ll fill out any paperwork you need, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“There’s no need to pack and go so quickly.”

“All due respect, sir, but yes, there is,” he came to a stop in front of Jake and fixed him with a steely look. “My family needs me. And if I don’t help them, who will?”

Jake swallowed painfully, his heart pressing against his aching ribs with every heartbroken beat, the roar of fear and shame and anxiety swirling around in his head, blocking out every sound other than the whispers of his regrets.

This wasn’t how his life was supposed to go. Football captain, homecoming king, star pupil of the Naval Academy, he flew through OCS and aced his ASTB. He was the only pilot of his generation with a confirmed air to air kill, handpicked for Top Gun and their top-secret uranium mission. And, on top of all of that, up until six months ago, he’d had the most perfect, beautiful wife waiting for him at home with their precious newborn twins.

Now, he was a divorced single dad of one beautiful little girl. A beautiful little girl that he’d had to leave in the capable hands of Penny Benjamin when the Squad had been deployed. A beautiful little girl whose sister he missed so incredibly much that it threatened to bring him to his knees. Whose mother had been right about damn near everything.

“Lieutenant Seresin?”

Jake blinked, his vision and hearing coming back into focus as Cyclone stepped down to face him.

“I’m going to be frank with you, Lieutenant. You’re the best of the best,” Cyclone stated, stepping closer. “Your skills in the cockpit are unmatched and you showed the type of leadership qualities we need in this line of work. There are whispers of promoting you due to your actions on this last mission. With the loss of Captain Mitchell and your actions on this mission, you are now the only ace pilot that the Navy has to offer. You’d have your choice of assignments, should you choose to stay. It would be a damn shame to lose you, son.”

Jake felt something squeeze in his chest, and this time it wasn’t his busted ribs. Being a Naval aviator was the only thing he had ever wanted to be, and Jake Seresin always got what he wanted. He should be elated, planning for his move to the best naval base in the country, where they would probably let him lead his own squad after the way he led the Dagger Squad home safely, tearing victory from the jaws of defeat. He could be Lieutenant Commander Seresin.

Buttercup’s tears and the clicking of his apartment door as it swung shut.

Those bright baby blues that were just now starting to darken into the very same light green he saw in the mirror every morning.

The powdery scent of diaper powder and formula, and the solid warmth and weight of his baby girl in his arms.

“With all due respect, Admiral?” Jake pushed through the catch in his throat. “It would be even more of a damn shame for my daughter to lose her dad. I’m all she’s got. I…I can’t let her down. I can’t let her ever think there’s a chance in hell that her daddy ain’t comin’ back to her. I’m afraid I have to thank you for the opportunity and request that you tender my resignation. Sir.”

Cyclone sighed, a wave of disappointment cresting over his face as he opened his mouth to argue, to convince him to stay, but a firm hand gripped his shoulder.

“We understand,” Warlock reached out and shook his hand. “Thank you for your service, Lieutenant Seresin.”

Jake nodded, shaking his hand before turning and saluting Cyclone. “Thank you, sir.”

“I…I’m with him.” Jake turned and saw Javy saluting the two members of the brass.

“Coyote…”

“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t. I followed your ass on the football field, I followed your ass to the Naval Academy, and now I’m following your ass out the door. You’re not the only one Charlie’s got, man. You both got me.”

“And me.”

The two men turned to see Rooster fiddling with his name plate.

“Bradshaw…” Cyclone’s voice rose in shock.

“My mama never wanted this for me,” Bradley continued, as if he hadn’t heard him. “I know she didn’t. Hell, my mama never stepped another foot on a plane after my daddy died. She was too terrified of bein’ in the air, thinkin’ I might lose her too. I used to think that flying brought me closer to my dad, that I could feel him when I was alone in the cockpit.” He unpinned his name plate carefully, studying the engraving. Lt. Bradshaw. “I can’t feel him anymore,” he murmured. “I’m older than he ever got to be. And now Mav’s gone…” Rooster sighed. “I don’t think I’ll be able to shake this last mission, sir. I’d be a detriment to any team I join, and I don’t want to put anyone in that position. So…I’m walking away.”

“I…understand. Thank you, gentlemen, for your years of service.”

Rooster saluted, then the three men walked out of the briefing room, the weight of their actions blanketing them.

“So…what now?”

Jake rubbed at his ribs. “We go to Mav’s funeral…then I guess we go home.”

“And where exactly is home?” Rooster drawled. “I can’t imagine you want to stay in your apartment after…everything.”

Jake shook his head, his tactician’s brain kicking into high gear. “Javy?”

“Yeah, man?”

“I think it’s time we introduce Bradshaw here to some Texas barbecue.”

The Brig, Camp Silver Star, Present Day

“Amelia? You…you knew?” Charlie yanked at the t-shirt that felt like it was closing in around her neck.

Amelia kicked off her rainboots, shed her yellow raincoat, and shuffled towards them, gingerly taking a seat on Abby’s bed.

“Yeah…I knew.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Charlie’s hands clenched rhythmically as she tried to breathe.

“I didn’t know the two of you were here at the same time,” Amelia soothed. “I found out that day that cantaloupe ended up in the fruit salad. You both came to me to ask about it, and I went to find my mom right away. That’s when she told me that she had sent emails about the camp to your aunt and uncles, offering a friends and family discount if you came for these specific weeks.”

“A-Aunt Penny knew too?” Charlie croaked.

“She did. Charlie, I—”

Charlie shook her head, sending her blond braid flying, the end whipping at her face with the force of it. “No. No. This is all a coincidence. It has to be one big coincidence. My dad and your m-mom…them knowing each other doesn’t mean anything.”

“Charlie…” Amelia started, but Abby felt something snap inside of her.

“You’re not actually stupid enough to believe that, are you?” she spat. “Why can’t you just admit that it all makes sense? Our parents knew each other, they got married, and they had us. We have the same birthday, we look identical, and we have these pictures to prove it! Why is that so difficult for you to see?”

“Because it means he lied to me!” Charlie shrieked, burying her head in her hands. “He lied to me. My whole life. He hid my mom and my sister from me for twelve years! He’s my best friend, we tell each other everything, we do everything together, and he lied to me!”

Charlie’s shoulders shook with the force of heavy sobs as the wind whipped at the windows, making the cabin shake. She’d asked her dad about her mother for years, and he had never told her. And neither had Javy or Rooster, who so clearly knew her mother too. Her chest ached with the sting of betrayal, and she had no idea how she was supposed to go home and look her three favourite people in the eyes after finding out they had been hiding such a massive secret from her.

Charlie flinched as she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders, and she sniffled as her head was tugged onto Abby’s shoulder.

“W-why aren’t you angry?” she whispered.

“I honestly don’t know,” Abby murmured back, staring sightlessly out the window. “I know that I should be. I know that my mum and Uncle Bob and Auntie Nat lied by omission by not telling me about you and dad, but I just…can’t.”

“Why would they do this to us?” Charlie scrubbed at her face with the sleeve of her sweater. “How is it legal to say that each parent gets a kid, and they never have to see the other one?”

“They had a custody arrangement…” Amelia had moved to kneel at the edge of Charlie’s bed.

“What sick judge would agree to something like this?” Charlie hiccupped as Abby removed her arm and leaned forward, desperation shining in her eyes.

“No one,” Amelia sighed and turned her face downwards. “Now, I don’t have all the information. I was just a kid when your parents split up, and my mom and Mav tried to shield me from the worst of it. All I know is that they got engaged after dating for like a really short amount of time, then your mom found out she was pregnant with you two, and they eloped in Las Vegas. Mav was pissed.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t he like my mum?”

“He loved your parents, both of them. Hangman was a pain in the butt, but Mav wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. After that first mission they flew together, when Hangman saved Mav and Rooster’s life, nobody really cared that Hangman was cocky. The way he could needle at the other members of his squad, it only ever pushed them to be the best that they could be. I know Mav saw a lot of good in your dad, and he really cared about him. And your mom? I think Mav loved your mom because she really helped bring Hangman down to earth. He once told me, ‘Buttercup keeps Hangman’s feet on the ground while his brain is racing through the sky’,” Amelia chuckled. “God, I loved hanging around with your parents. They were so cool.”

“Wait…Buttercup?” Abby bit her lip. “That’s what my aunt and uncle call my mum. Well, that and kiddo.”

“Yeah, nicknames around Miramar kinda just…stuck. Your dad started calling your mom Buttercup, and that was that. She was Buttercup from then on.”

“She even has a buttercup tattoo on her collarbone,” Abby said excitedly, her mind racing with the implication.

“That’s great and all, but can we get back to the story? Why was Mav angry?”

“Because he wanted to be there when they got married,” Amelia laughed quietly. “The Dagger Squad got chosen to do an air show in Las Vegas, and Hangman was able to work it so that your mom could come. Mav didn’t question it at all, even though he knew they were engaged and expecting. Your dad had to do 200 pushups when he got back for not telling Mav the plan so that he could be there,” Amelia giggled. “But I never heard him complain about it. He thought your mom was worth it.”

“So then…what happened?”

“Like I said, I don’t know. My mom and dad split when I was younger, and I guess my mom thought that watching one of my favourite couples in the world split up might bring up some bad memories, so she and Mav sheltered me from a lot of it. I know they had a really bad fight, they both said some things, and then they split, and they each took one of you.”

“H-how did they decide who to take?” Charlie trembled.

“I honestly don’t know. But I know it was never supposed to be permanent. The custody arrangement, I mean.”

“Then what happened? Why did they keep us from each other?”

Amelia shrugged. “I know that it was partly your dad’s deployment schedule. It was hard to set up a visitation schedule when Dagger Squad was being called into action so often. Then, the pandemic hit, and nobody wanted to be sending really young kids on international flights where they could get sick and potentially have lasting complications. After that, I really don’t know.”

Charlie took a deep, shuddering breath as Abby chewed on her lower lip. The cabin was silent, save for the wind and rain lashing at the windows.

Finally, Amelia sighed. “I know this a big revelation for the two of you, and I hate to leave when you probably have a billion more questions. But I do have to get back. I’ll be back later tonight to collect your tray, and I’ll hopefully have more time to answer your questions. Okay?”

Abby nodded but Charlie sat stock still, staring into space.

“Charlie?” Amelia called softly, ducking her head to catch her gaze. “Are we okay, hon?”

Charlie nodded mutely and Amelia returning it with a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll see you both later.”

“Bye Amelia,” Abby called softly as the door swung shut behind her.

Silence fell for a brief moment before Abby looked over at Charlie.

“What are you thinking?”

“Shhh…” Charlie hissed, but Abby didn’t take offense. It was clear from the deep set of Charlie’s eyebrows and the pensive look in her eyes that she was planning something. No…plotting something.

Abby shrugged and walked over to the small card table that held their trays of food. Two small Thermos’ of chili, an array of Ziploc bags filled with cheese, chili flakes, bacon bits, and sour cream, and two snack sized bags of tortilla chips were seated neatly on the silver trays, and Abby felt her stomach grumble.

She had just sat down to her freshly topped chili when Charlie moved, sitting across from her with a steely look in her eyes.

“Charlie?”

“I want to get to know my mom,” she stated simply, as though she was saying that the sky was blue or that grass was green.

Abby nodded eagerly. “I know! I can’t wait to get to know dad! Maybe we could call him together on Friday and talk to him together? And then we could do the same for mum!”

Charlie shook her head. “No. I mean really get to know her. I want to meet her in person. I want to be able to hug her. I want to spend time with her, and I want to be able to do that without having to spend time answering questions about how we found each other or her trying to tell me about what happened between her and dad.”

“I…I want that too,” Abby confessed, though Charlie’s words were confusing her. “And we can do that. Once they know that we know, we’ll be able to use that custody agreement and see mum and dad, and each other, more often.”

Charlie shook her head again. “You don’t understand. I don’t want to talk to dad. Or Rooster. Or Javy. They lied to me for my whole entire life! I’m so mad at them that I’ll probably just scream the whole time we’re talking to them. Besides, whose to say that they won’t make excuses and not let us see each other again? What happens if they just decide that I can’t see mom and you don’t get to see dad?”

“They wouldn’t do that!”

“Abby, they already did do that!” Charlie reached out and grabbed Abby’s wrist, her gaze pleading. “Don’t you want to get to know dad without having to deal with all of this? Don’t you want to be able to meet him and get to know him without all the awkward stuff, like him asking you what your favourite colour is or what you got for your tenth birthday?”

“Well…yeah. Of course, I do. But…how would we do that? It’s not like I could just go to Texas when camp is over.”

“Why not?” Charlie’s eyes shone bright with excitement. “Who says you couldn’t just take my boarding pass and fly to Texas to meet dad? Who says I couldn’t just take your boarding pass and fly to London to meet mom?”

“Charlie, you sound insane,” Abby gently removed her hand from her wrist and picked up her spoon. “First of all, I don’t have a boarding pass. I fly stand-by because my uncle is a pilot and gets me on the plane for free, so long as he’s the one flying. Second, we might look a like, but there are still some cosmetic differences! My hair is shorter than yours, I have pierced ears, and we have different accents. They would certainly notice all that. And third, our parents have known us since birth. Surely they would be able to tell that we’re not us!”

“We can fix those things!” Charlie leaned forward. “I can teach you all about my life in Texas. I can show you the layout of the ranch, which cows to avoid, how to tack up my horse at home. I can teach you all about dad and Javy and Rooster. I can cut my hair! And listen, it’s not even that hard to fake a British accent. Pip, pip, cheerio!”

Abby snorted. “And what? You expect me to teach you all about London? Where to catch the tube, the layout of the flat, where the best fish and chips are? You want me to tell you all about mum, and where Uncle Bob hides his glasses cleaning cloth, and how not to stare at Auntie Nat’s scar? You want me to start talking like a cowboy? And what about my ears being pierced?”

“Why not?” Charlie begged, her green eyes shining. “We’ve got like a month to teach each other everything we would ever need to know. And we both have cell phones, so it’s not like we would be completely cut off from each other. If I had a question, I could just text you and ask!”

“Charlie, you sound ridiculous!” Abby threw her spoon down and rubbed her eyes. “There’s no way I can teach you about my life in a month. You want us to try to pull one over on the people that know us best. It would never work.”

Charlie bit her lip then leaned in for the kill. “I saw the way you lit up when Amelia mentioned mom’s nickname being Buttercup. I know how excited you got when you realized that mom has a tattoo of a buttercup. I know you were thinking the exact same thing I was.”

“Which is?”

“That if the people around her still call her Buttercup, maybe she still has feelings for dad. The nickname obviously meant enough to her that she got it tattooed on her body, and she hasn’t tried to get it removed or anything.”

“Mum, she…she’s never dated,” Abby admitted quietly. “She always says she just doesn’t have the time, but…I’ve always hoped that maybe it’s because she still has feelings for my dad.”

“Dad is the same way,” Charlie whispered. “He says I’m his best girl, but I know from Rooster and Javy that dad could be going on lots of dates if he wanted to. They love to tease him about it, and he tells them that he’s too busy with me and the ranch. But I know it’s because he still loves mom.” Charlie reached for her wrist again and this time Abby didn’t pull away. “Abby, if we do this, they will eventually have to switch us back. I’m not suggesting we do this forever. We can get to know them for a bit, then tell them the truth, and they’ll have to meet to switch us back. And when they meet…”

“…they could fall in love again,” Abby murmured.

“They could. Or, at the very least, they can talk and figure out a schedule so we don’t have to be separated again. C’mon…isn’t it at least worth a shot?” Charlie blinked over at her; the puppy dog eyes she had learned from her dad shining in full force.

Abby sighed. “Do you really think we can do it?”

“We’ve got a month, we’ve got social media, and we’ve got access to the computers once a week. I don’t see how we couldn’t pull this off.”

Abby chewed on her bottom lip. “O-okay…but if I don’t feel comfortable with this later, I want to be able to change my mind.”

“Done.” Charlie stuck her hand out and Abby grasped it, pumping it twice in the air with a grin on her face. “Now…let’s get to work.”

Tags List: @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @waltermis @buckysteveloki-me @allepaula @yuckosworld @seresinsbrat @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @kim-stark @cierra715 @high-speed-r @helpmepleasethanks @starsrfun @tomanyfandomstrash @averyhotchner @the-blueatlas @princessliz86 @dashes-dizzydisaster @a-girl-who-loves-disney @boiolay @djs8891 @torimcc @tgmreader @kmc1989 @landpiranha-blog @sydthekid1518 @lynnevanss @hello7442 @mackenzieblair @minejungwoo @starset21 @ssa-sadboi @tgmavericklover @dempy @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @lovemarvelousfics @starkleila @magical-spit @whatislovevavy @simplyreading96 @vivalas-vega @itsdesiree86 @inky-sun @books-are-escapes @abaker74 @clockworkballerina

[skyovereuropeldkde]

Major General (ret.) Schultze-Rhonhof speaks out 24.12.2023 "Ladies and gentlemen! I did not serve as a soldier for 37 years to preserve peace in Germany, and now to watch idly and without comment as Germany is slowly but likely headed toward active participation in a foreign and senseless war. Our "Three Wise Men," Chancellor Scholz, Minister Lindner, and Minister Dr. Habeck, all initially refused military service in their younger years for Germany's law and freedom and the preservation of our democracy. They are now spending far more than 10 billion euros of taxpayer money per year on "law," "freedom," "democracy," and Western values ​​in a foreign state that is neither a democracy nor represents Western values. They are using our taxpayer money and the blood of foreign conscripts to prolong a war that has now become senseless.

Ukraine is by no means a democracy, and its values ​​are not ours. Eleven opposition parties are banned in Ukraine. Zelenskyy has banned the presidential elections scheduled for March 2024 (such elections are taking place in Russia). In Ukraine, all media outlets are under control. No reports critical of Ukraine from Ukraine are permitted by German journalists (comments critical of Russia from Moscow are quite common). In Ukraine, political assassinations are commonplace (according to the three-week protocols of the Federal Agency for Civic Education up until the outbreak of the war). Ukraine and Russia are together the two most corrupt countries in Europe (according to Transparency International). Buying out of military service is just as common in Ukraine as it is in Russia. With its record of breaches of international treaties and violations of UN conventions and international charters, Ukraine's record is in no way inferior to that of Russia in terms of frequency and severity. The nature and frequency of Ukrainian war crimes are similar to those committed by Russia; only the misuse of humanitarian facilities protected under international humanitarian law as human shields for fighting troops occurs only on the Ukrainian side (according to the OSCE report of June 29, 2022).

This Ukraine is neither a democracy nor does it stand for our values, as the German media and the majority of our political parties would have us believe. The official interpretation presented to us that Ukraine would help defend our values ​​is as foolish as Struck's "Defense of Germany in the Hindu Kush." ​​I expect the former conscientious objectors in the Bundestag and the federal government—true to their former sense of peace—to actively work for the quickest possible end to the war in Ukraine and to abandon their unrealistic, phantom visions of a Ukrainian victory. I expect the same from all other governments and parliamentarians. The idea of ​​a possible reunification of two quarreling and now hateful sections of a nation, who had already waged war against each other for eight years before the Russian invasion, into a future Ukraine of its former size is the pipe dream of fools. Regarding the zeal of the majority of German parties to help the Ukrainians achieve victory with money and arms deliveries, I'm reminded of a saying by Russian Lieutenant General Alexander Lebed, who said during the first Chechen war: "Let me recruit a company from the sons of the elite, and the war will be over the next day." (Lebed was an unsuccessful presidential candidate in Russia in 1996.)

The second question at issue here is whether the Russian Federation has actually threatened the West, or even a NATO member state or other neighboring country since its withdrawal from Central Europe following the end of the Soviet disintegration process. I will answer this question in detail in the explanatory statement for the following letter to the politicians. This explanatory statement is attached as Appendix 1 to this email.

Since August 15, 2022, I have tried to inform hundreds of members of parliament about the background to the Russian invasion and the events inside Ukraine. Then, I proposed a German initiative for a rapid end to the war to the Federal Chancellor, former chancellors, and leading politicians with still open channels of communication with Moscow. I made my final attempt at Christmas 2023 with the following letter, sent to members of the Federal Government, the parliamentary group leaders of all parties in the Bundestag, to all party leaders and general secretaries, and to all state premiers. Only two party leaders, sitting on the sidelines of the plenary hall, responded with approval and in any way, but they stated that they could do nothing. I have just received a polite but dismissive response from the leader of the largest opposition party, whose silence and disregard for the long history of the war I cannot accept and whose insinuations against Putin I largely cannot confirm. Incidentally, allegedly proven but unfounded allegations were also a common element in the dynamite of the two world wars. Despite all courtesy, the reply gives the impression that its author hasn't even read the justification for my proposal (Appendix 1).

The German people are tired of not being informed about the background to the war in Ukraine and of investing 10 to 15 billion euros annually, despite their own tight budgets, in a senseless, foreign war and the continued deaths of tens of thousands of Ukrainians and Russians. If the German government, disregarding German interests, risks the war in Ukraine escalating into a conflagration and involving Germany as well—as Chancellor Scholz originally feared—the people themselves must remind the government of their first duty. So far, the vast majority of German politicians have been primarily interested in a Ukrainian victory and a Russian defeat, and only secondarily in peace. Please read my Christmas letter to politicians and pass on my thoughts to other interested parties. And try to convince your representatives of the possibility of an early end to the war. Yours, Gerd Schultze-Rhonhof Major General (ret.)

[disgruntled-screaming]

The absolute biggest issue I have with Voltron Legendary Defender weirdly enough isn't how the writing became a huge pile of confusing storylines and decisions.

It's the time when the show takes place. Please, let me explain, as I have pulled my hair out about this.

Confirmed by the writers, vld takes place in the year 2314. Okay. Fine. Makes sense. There's technology present in the show that we do not have in 2016/2017. Also Pidge stated that it took the Garrison ships a few months to get to Kerberos. Kerberos being one of Pluto's moons. This also implies that the space commissioners or companies that are involved in space travel and space adjacent activities declared Pluto a planet once again.

Shiro, our space dad and dilf in training, is 25 years old at the start of the series. He was born February 29, which is a date that is only available on a leap year.

Let's do some simple math, don't worry, I'll be your calculator. 2314 - 25 = 2289.

Ladies, Gentlemen, Nonbinary individuals, and possible other genders that I do not know about, 2289 is not a leap year. Neither is 2290. Would you all like to know when the next leap year is in this range of years? 2292.

Since I am a stickler for accuracy in regards to certain topics for reasons I can only blame my autism and ADHD on, the show taking place in the year 2314 bothers me. Please understand that this is simply a me problem. If Shiro was not my favorite character, or if he didn't share a birthday with my first adorable dog, I would not care about this blatant error.

If it helps to those who have the same issue as I do, my fix-it fic takes place 2317. It's not that much of a jump, but honestly it feels better knowing that the math lines up.

Thank you for taking your time to read this! Hope you all have a lovely day.

[kingerdartneartern]

Why We All Secretly Hate Theodore Huxley: A Study in Failure

Rant Below

Ladies and gentlemen, today, I stand before you not to inform, not to inspire, but to reaffirm a universal truth that we all know in our bones—Theodore Huxley is a disgrace. He is a mockery of his bloodline, a blight upon the legacy of Sean Young and Conman Games, a character so utterly contemptible that even acknowledging his existence feels like an act of charity. And yet, we do acknowledge him. We grant him attention, precious seconds of our lives that we will never get back.

Why? Why do we waste our breath, our thoughts, our words on this milksop of a character? I suspect the answer lies not in genuine appreciation but in a perverse desire to go against the grain. The same impulse that leads contrarians to pretend Luigi is superior to Mario. We do not love Luigi because he is great—we love him because Mario is better, and we want to be different. The same tragic flaw, the same misguided impulse, compels some among us to pretend Theodore Huxley is worth even a sliver of consideration.

But let us be honest with ourselves. Let us peer into the abyss of truth and say what must be said. If Theodore Huxley were a real person, we would beat him up. Not out of mindless cruelty, not out of some misplaced sense of dominance, but out of a deep, primal need to correct the cosmic mistake that is his existence. And let’s be clear—if he were a child, that would not be a deterrent. If anything, it would make it easier. A small problem is easier to dispose of than a large one.

Now, some of you may think this is too harsh. Some of you may say, “Surely, he is not that bad.” To which I say: Have you read history? Have you studied the great betrayals of our time? Judas Iscariot, who sold out the Son of God for thirty pieces of silver, at least had the decency to feel remorse. Joseph Stalin, architect of purges, famines, and misery beyond comprehension, at least had the competence to rule. But Theodore Huxley? He is a coward. A weakling. A mistake. He is neither competent nor remorseful. He is neither fearsome nor convicted. He is nothing. And it is the nothingness of Theodore Huxley that makes him truly detestable.

Theodore Huxley is not merely a bad character. That would imply he exists in the same league as other poorly written figures, the bland, the forgettable, the misguided attempts at complexity that ultimately fail. No, he is something worse. He is a fundamental betrayal of what it means to be a good character, an affront to storytelling itself. He does not simply fail in execution—he fails in concept. His very presence in any narrative is an admission of defeat, a confession from his creators that they no longer understand what makes a character compelling, memorable, or worth existing in the first place.

Consider for a moment what defines a great character. Strength of will. Purpose. An impact on the world around them, for good or for ill. Characters like Felix, who Theodore so feebly attempts to rival, embody these traits. They have gravity. They pull the story toward them, shaping it in their image. Theodore Huxley does no such thing. He is a void. A non-entity masquerading as a protagonist. He neither drives the story forward nor serves as a satisfying foil to those who do. He is, in every sense of the word, useless.

But his crimes do not end there. His betrayal extends beyond the realm of fiction. Theodore Huxley has, somehow, wormed his way into our reality, contaminating it with his failure. You see, dear listeners, Theodore Huxley is responsible for some of the greatest disasters of our time. His incompetence is not contained within the confines of his fictional prison. No, it has bled into the world we live in, poisoning it in ways we are only beginning to understand.

Let’s start with the Fall of Reach. A tragedy, an unavoidable moment in history that shaped the fate of an entire universe. And yet, if you dig deep into the classified ONI files, you will find one name buried beneath the surface: Theodore Huxley. It was he who lowered the planetary defenses. He who, whether through cowardice, incompetence, or outright malice, allowed the Covenant to land unchallenged. Had it not been for him, Noble Team’s sacrifice might have been avoided. But Theodore Huxley does not merely fail—he ensures that others suffer for his failure.

And what of Duke Nukem Forever? A game that, after years of anticipation, arrived in a state so abysmal that it single-handedly buried a franchise. Was it mere mismanagement? No. It was Theodore Huxley. He whispered into the ears of developers, convincing them to delay, to bloat, to ruin what once was great. His influence seeped into the code itself, corrupting the game at its very core. The tedious level design? Theodore. The lackluster gunplay? Theodore. The jokes that made even the most hardened fans recoil in secondhand embarrassment? Theodore. The game was doomed the moment he became involved.

But perhaps his greatest sin, his most unforgivable act, was his role in the rise of Gacha Gaming. Yes, my friends, Theodore Huxley is the reason you no longer own your games. He is the reason children are drained of their parents' credit cards. He is the reason you have spent thousands of dollars and still do not have the one character you wanted. It was he who introduced the first loot box, he who championed microtransactions, he who ensured that every game would eventually become a slot machine wrapped in the illusion of gameplay. When the history books are written, when future generations look back on this dark era, they will ask: "Who allowed this to happen?" And the answer, whispered through the cracks of a broken world, will be Theodore Huxley.

This is not merely a bad character. This is a mistake made flesh. A betrayal of art, of storytelling, of gaming, of humanity itself. And yet, despite all of this, despite the overwhelming evidence against him, some among us still give him the time of day. They still entertain his existence. And that, my friends, may be the greatest tragedy of all.

Now, as rational individuals, we must entertain the possibility that Theodore Huxley serves a greater purpose. That perhaps, in some cruel, calculated way, his existence is not merely an error but an intentional act of narrative craftsmanship. Maybe—just maybe—Theodore Huxley is not a failure, but a symbol. A metaphor. A deliberate reflection of some grand idea that justifies his presence.

This is the charitable view. The academic approach. A fool’s errand, yes, but one that must be undertaken in the spirit of intellectual integrity. So let us ask: What does Theodore Huxley represent?

One possibility is that Theodore Huxley is an embodiment of failure itself—a cautionary tale, a living monument to mediocrity, designed to remind us of what happens when a character lacks direction, depth, or purpose. Much like Gregor Samsa in The Metamorphosis, a being transformed into something pitiful and grotesque, perhaps Theodore is meant to be endured rather than admired. He is the storytelling equivalent of a cautionary sign on a slippery floor: ugly, intrusive, but necessary.

But even here, the argument collapses. For Gregor Samsa meant something. His transformation had weight. We felt his suffering. Theodore, by contrast, is just there. He does not evoke pity or horror, only frustration. His failure does not illuminate anything about the human condition—it simply clutters the narrative space with its dead weight.

So perhaps he is not a metaphor for failure, but a commentary on banality. A reflection of the everyday, of the mundane, a mirror held up to reality’s most unremarkable aspects. Not every story can be about heroes, after all. Not every character can be a legend. Maybe Theodore Huxley is the ultimate rejection of heroism—the anti-Felix, an argument for the validity of insignificance.

But here, too, the justification crumbles. Because Theodore is not simply boring—he is infuriating. A truly mundane character might fade into the background, unnoticed and unremarkable. Theodore refuses to do even that. He demands attention without deserving it, inserts himself where he is unwelcome, and contributes nothing. He does not elevate the ordinary; he ruins it.

Then there is the nihilistic interpretation. Perhaps Theodore Huxley exists as an admission that nothing matters—that in the end, all our efforts to create meaning are futile. That bad characters exist, that they will continue to exist, and that we must suffer them as we suffer the many injustices of life. This, at least, would be a powerful artistic statement, a grim but honest reflection of the world’s indifference.

But no. Even this cannot justify him. Because a proper nihilistic character—one who embodies meaninglessness—still has an impact. Theodore Huxley, despite all his failings, is not an effective agent of despair. He is not haunting. He does not shake our understanding of existence. He is not anything, and that is the final insult.

So we arrive at the only conclusion possible: Theodore Huxley does not mean anything. He is not a metaphor, not a lesson, not a statement. He is a mistake, nothing more. A black hole in the shape of a character. An artifact of incompetence.

We tried. We gave him the benefit of the doubt. We searched for meaning, for justification, for something—anything—that could defend his presence.

We found nothing.

And perhaps, in a way, that is fitting. Because Theodore Huxley is, and always has been, nothing at all.

We have journeyed deep into the abyss of Theodore Huxley’s existence, examining his failings from every possible angle, and the conclusion remains unchanged: he is irredeemable.

First, we established that Theodore Huxley is not merely a bad character—he is an affront to storytelling. He does not function as a protagonist, an antagonist, a deuteragonist, or even a footnote. He is dead weight, dragging down every scene, every narrative, and every moment he infects with his presence.

Then, we traced his real-world impact, uncovering the truth that many fear to acknowledge: Theodore Huxley has poisoned our history. He was there when Reach fell. He was there when Duke Nukem Forever collapsed under its own weight. He was there at the dawn of gacha gaming, ushering in an era of microtransactions, addiction-driven monetization, and the slow erosion of player ownership. His influence extends beyond fiction—he is a force of destruction woven into reality itself.

Finally, we entertained the last, desperate argument in his favor—that perhaps, through some stroke of genius, he serves a greater artistic purpose. That maybe he is a metaphor, a lesson, a deliberate creation designed to evoke meaning. But even here, Theodore Huxley fails. He is not a meaningful failure, not a thought-provoking void, not even a tragic example of wasted potential. He is simply nothing, a character so devoid of worth that no amount of literary analysis can justify his existence.

And so, we arrive at the inescapable truth: Theodore Huxley should not exist. His presence in any story is a testament to misguided writing, his influence on reality an undeniable curse. There is no defense for him, no higher meaning, no artistic merit. He is a failure in every conceivable way.

Thank you for reading my Fuck TED Talk.

[thelonelybrilliance]

When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of having promised to play to him; and she sat down directly to the instrument. He drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then talked, as before, to her other nephew; till the latter walked away from her, and moving with his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte, stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer’s countenance. Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first convenient pause turned to him with an arch smile, and said,—

“You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me. But I will not be alarmed, though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me.”

“I shall not say that you are mistaken,” he replied, “because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know, that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which, in fact, are not your own.”

Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself, and said to Colonel Fitzwilliam, “Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so well able to expose my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire—and, give me leave to say, very impolitic too—for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out as will shock your relations to hear.”

“I am not afraid of you,” said he, smilingly.

“Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,” cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.”

“You shall hear, then—but prepare for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball—and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances! I am sorry to pain you, but so it was. He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, you cannot deny the fact.”

“I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party.”

“True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room. Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders.”

“Perhaps,” said Darcy, “I should have judged better had I sought an introduction, but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers.”

“Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?” said Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill-qualified to recommend himself to strangers?”

“I can answer your question,” said Fitzwilliam, “without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.”

“I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,” said Darcy, “of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.”

“My fingers,” said Elizabeth, “do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault—because I would not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman’s of superior execution.”

Darcy smiled and said, “You are perfectly right. You have employed your time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you can think anything wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers.”

- Jane Austen, Pride & Prejudice, Chapter XXXI