#before moving on to the plot (tm)

[shadowbends]

“When I did open that portal,” Mikey went on, cutting him off. “Do you know what I was thinking?” He heard Raph’s mouth click audibly shut and waited. When no guesses were forthcoming, he took a shaky breath and hid his face in his brother’s shoulder. “I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t let the Krang out, but I had to help Leo, so…” And oh great, now he was crying too. Mikey sniffed, and forced himself to continue. “All I could think about was wanting you to come and make it better.”

The family sets out to find the ingredients for the elixir meant to help Leo, but is this really the plan? Mikey drags the truth from Draxum and gets more than he bargained for.

(This chapter is a long boy, good lord. The previous ones have all finished around the 12-14 page count, but this chapter's coming in pretty at a full 21. As a reward for all this exposition, Mikey is allowed one (1) f-bomb. As a treat.)

[fullsunstrawberry]

pairings: Brother Best Friend Haechan x Virgin Reader (hints of Jeno x reader and Sungchan x reader)

summary: When you sets out to finally lose your virginity, your mission is simple—until your older brother’s best friend steps in, vowing to be your personal chastity belt. After a fight he makes it his mission to get his revenge... by blocking every hookup attempt you makes. But the more he interferes, the more complicated things get and suddenly, the line between rivalry and something more starts to blur.

content warning: It's okay to be a virgin this was just for the plot (im literally still a virgin), drinking, talks of cheating but no actual cheating, heavy make-outs, grinding, jealousy, haechan cockblocking twice, virgin reader, experienced haechan, reader being a brat, condom mentioned (shout out! wrap it up), cunninglingus, use of the words 'heat' 'breast', overall fluffy vanilla smut.

word count: 20.4k (im sorry-)

authors note: posting this before my 21st birthday tm! (3rd) <3

Mark had finally done it, he graduated college. You felt a mix of pride and relief. Watching him walk across that stage was huge for your family, but part of you couldn’t help but feel...free. The constant hovering, the big brother act—it was over. At least for now.

You weren’t just Mark’s little sister anymore. It was your turn to live.

Sophomore year was your fresh start. No more rules, no more curfews. You could go out, stay out, party, drink—and maybe even lose your virginity. You weren’t rushing, but it felt like the right time to start making memories that were actually yours and not just stuff you’ve read in fanfics.

When Mark decided to travel after graduation, his apartment opened up. He offered his room to you to help with rent. At first, you weren’t sure—but it made sense. More freedom than a dorm, and you already knew the guys that frequently hang out there: Renjun, Chenle, and Jisung. Mark’s best friends. Your honorary older brothers. They always made you feel welcome, even if they were just as protective as Mark.

Haechan, Mark’s roommate, was the best one to live with out of the his friend group—party guy, always out, kept the shared space clean. As long as your noise canceling headphones worked, living with him didn’t seem like a bad deal.

Before leaving, Mark said, “If you need anything, my friends are around. They’ve got your back.”

You rolled your eyes. You didn’t need a babysitter. But you knew it came from a good place. They all cared, whether Mark said it or not.

So, you moved in. The apartment was way better than your old dorm. Spacious, cozy, and most importantly yours. Your room had a big window—that you could actually open, unlike the school “anti suicide” protection ones—

Those first few weeks of settling in were exactly what you’d hoped for. Late nights, new people, freedom. No one checking in, no one to tiptoe around. Just you, your own schedule, and finally, a life that felt like it belonged to you.

It was everything you hoped for!

You’d been out with friends, as usual—drinks, dancing, laughing—but when you came home, something felt off. You walked into the apartment, expecting it to be quiet, but there was a light on in the living room. Haechan was sitting on the couch, his face serious as he looked up when you entered.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice calm but with a weight to it.

“We need to talk.”

You froze for a moment, feeling a wave of irritation wash over you. You were tired and your head hurt, already exhausted with how much socializing you just did.

“What’s up?” you asked, your tone already on edge. You could tell this wasn’t going to be a casual conversation.

Haechan patted the seat next to him, his expression serious. “Sit down. This is important.”

You reluctantly dropped your bag by the door and plopped onto the couch, crossing your arms.

“You’ve changed,” Haechan said bluntly, looking at you with narrowed eyes. “You used to be so quiet, so reserved. You liked staying in, reading, gaming, and just hanging out with a small set of friends. But now? You’re out every night, partying, getting home at God knows what hour. I don’t even recognize you anymore.”

You felt a jolt of anger rise in your chest at his words. You hadn’t expected this. Sure, you’d been out a lot lately, but was it really that big of a deal? You weren’t doing anything wrong.

“I’m just living my life, Haechan. What’s your problem with that?”

Haechan didn’t back down. He leaned forward, his gaze never leaving yours. “It’s not about you living your life. It’s that you’re changing into someone you’re not. I’m just worried you’re losing yourself. You used to be so different, and now you’re pushing yourself into a life you don’t even seem to want. You’re not the same Y/n I used to know.”

Frustration bubbled up inside you. You weren’t a little girl anymore. Yeah, you were more introverted than most people. You liked staying in and finding different hobbies like reading, cross-stitching, knitting, and playing board games. But you don’t see a problem with trying to branch out and make some experiences. You haven’t even kissed someone in years!

“I’m not changing, Haechan,” you shot back, your voice getting louder. “I’m just doing what I want for once. I’m in college now. I can go out and have fun. I’m not hurting anyone or myself, so why does it matter?”

“It matters because you’re pushing yourself into this wild party girl persona that isn’t you,” he argued, his voice soft but earnest. “You don’t need to change who you are to have fun. You don’t have to lose yourself to experience college. You’re better than this.”

His words stung. Was he right? You don’t even care, who is he to tell you who you are! You felt the anger bubble up higher in your chest, and before you knew it, you were standing up, pacing the small space in front of the couch.

“You think you know me so well, don’t you? You think just because I’m going out and having fun, that means I’m ‘losing myself’?” You shot a pointed glance at him. “Maybe I’m just finally doing what I want to do. Mark or you don’t get to decide who I am or who I should be!”

Haechan stood up too, frustration flashing in his eyes. “That’s not what I’m saying! I just don’t want you to regret this, Y/n. I’m not trying to control you. I’m trying to make sure you don’t throw away everything that made you... well, you.”

You could feel your pulse racing, your heart pounding in your chest. He was trying to tell you what you should be doing with your life, and you weren’t about to let him dictate that.

“You don’t get it! I’m not ‘throwing away’ anything. Maybe I’ve just been stuck in the same box for too long. Maybe I just want to have some damn fun for once without everyone treating me like a baby!”

There was a tense silence between you two, the air thick. Haechan’s face softened a little, but you could see the hurt in his eyes. “I’m not judging you, Y/n. I’m just trying to look out for you. I’m your friend, okay? I care about you. But I can’t just watch you spiral into something I don’t recognize.”

You shook your head, feeling a tight knot form in your throat. You didn’t want to hear this. “You’re Mark’s friend not mine!” You snapped, your voice almost a shout.

You stood there, staring at him. You could feel your heart racing, the adrenaline still rushing through your veins. But as Haechan’s expression faltered, something in you twisted—something unfamiliar, something you didn’t want to deal with right now.

His eyes widened, lips parted like he wanted to say something, but the words just wouldn’t come out. The silence between you two felt loud, thick, and uncomfortable, making the air around you heavy.

You stood there, your hands clenched by your sides, unwilling to back down. You had said what you needed to say, hadn’t you? Haechan was just your brother’s friend, right? That’s all he was, no matter how much he tried to play the protective older brother role. You didn’t need him to look out for you. You didn’t need anyone but yourself.

But then you saw it, something you hadn’t expected. The hurt that flashed in his eyes. The quick, sharp breath he took, like he was trying to process your words, like you’d just physically hurt him. It made something inside you twist painfully.

You wanted to take it back. You wanted to apologize, to say that wasn’t what you meant. But the pride in you wouldn't let it happen. Instead, you just stood there, the anger still lingering inside of you.

Haechan opened his mouth again, his voice quieter now, as if unsure of what to say. “Y/n, I—” But he stopped, his words dying before he could get them out.

You didn’t say anything back. There was nothing left to say. You had made it clear where you stood, and now, there was a silence between you both, almost unbearable.

He swallowed, his jaw clenched tightly as his eyes dropped to the floor. You could see the frustration in his body language and the way he folded his arms across his chest like he was trying to protect himself from the words you had thrown at him. And yet, there was still this undeniable hurt that lingered in his expression.

Haechan took a slow, steadying breath before looking up at you one last time. His eyes were distant now, but the hurt was still there. His lips pressed into a thin line, and without another word, he turned away, walking toward the hallway, his footsteps heavy against the floor.

You stood frozen, the knot in your throat tightening again as you watched him leave. Your heart felt like it had been split in two—one part of you was still angry but the other part of you, the quieter part, regretted what you had just said. Knowing deep down he was right.

But Haechan didn’t turn back. He didn’t say anything else. He just left, disappearing into his room without a single glance in your direction.

You remained standing in the living room, the weight of the silence pressing down on you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, not yet, because you knew if you did, you’d have to face what you’d just done.

And right now, you weren’t ready to do that. So you stayed there, alone in the quiet, wondering if you’d ever be able to fix this.

Weeks turned into a month, and with each passing day, the tension between you and Haechan only seemed to grow. You avoided him, doing everything you could to sidestep those awkward, silent moments when you’d inevitably cross paths. Which was a lot, you two live together!

But you didn’t know how to fix things, didn’t know how to admit you were wrong. The pride that had kept you from apologizing in the first place now felt like a heavy weight on your chest, crushing you.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to talk to the others. You’d still spent time with Renjun, Chenle, and Jisung—though it was different now. They could all sense it. The moment you and Haechan were in the same room, the air would go thick, filled with an undeniable awkwardness. Everyone seemed to feel it, and no one ever quite knew what to say.

Things had taken a turn after Haechan finally told the guys about the fight. You had noticed it right away. They had become distant too. Maybe they were angry at you, maybe they were just upset because they were caught in the middle of it. Either way, they didn’t talk to you like they used to. They didn’t look at you like they used to. And that made you feel even more isolated.

But the worst part? The worst part was Haechan. You barely saw him anymore.

He either wasn’t home—probably at some party getting drunk. Or he spent his time locked away in his room, just like you did. You’d occasionally hear him laughing or talking with the other people, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t normal anymore. And every time you heard that, you felt like something inside you was breaking—like you were losing your friends.

The apartment had felt weird lately...too quiet, too still. You hadn’t realized just how lonely you’d been until the familiar sound of laughter echoed through the hallway, followed by a knock at your door.

Lisa burst in first, tossing her bag on the couch like she owned the place. Jaemin trailed behind, grinning as he scanned the room.

“Okay, so this is your version of living your best life?” Lisa raised a brow, glancing around at your cozy setup. “I expected a little more....”

You laughed, the sound feeling strange in your own space. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Jaemin dropped onto the couch beside you, arms stretched wide as he let out a relaxed sigh. “I’ll take it. Better than Lisa’s place, where everything’s freakishly neat. Move one thing and she goes full psycho.”

Lisa rolled her eyes and chucked a pillow at him. “You love it.”

Their banter filled the room with a warmth you hadn’t felt in weeks. The air felt lighter, and for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel so weighed down.

Lisa, always too observant for her own good, shot you a sideways glance. “So... sleepover. And since we’re here, you’re gonna spill. What’s really going on with you? You’ve been sulking and dodging us for weeks.”

Jaemin nodded. “Yeah, we’ve noticed. You’ve been off.”

You swallowed the knot that had been sitting in your chest for days. “It’s... Haechan. We got into a fight. Things have been tense ever since.”

Lisa’s curiosity sparked. “Weird how?”

You hesitated. “We argued... and I said some things I didn’t mean. He made some comment about me changing, and I just snapped. I told him he wasn’t my friend—just Mark’s.”

Jaemin winced. “Damn. That’s cold.”

Lisa raised an eyebrow. “Oof, that’s a low blow. But, seriously, you both probably said some dumb stuff in the heat of the moment.”

You nodded, your shoulders slumping as you stared at the ground. “Yeah, I regret it. I didn’t mean it. But I just... I was so frustrated. And then, after that, we just avoided each other. It’s been like walking on eggshells around him, and honestly, this was supposed to be my year.”

Jaemin frowned, glancing at Lisa, who was now looking at you with a mixture of concern and something else—something playful.

“Okay, okay,” Lisa said, leaning in with a mischievous grin. “Maybe I’m just gonna throw this out there, because you know I have no filter—which you love—but what if the real reason you exploded like that is because you’re so pent up?”

You blinked at her, confused. “Pent up?”

She grinned, eyes gleaming. “Yeah. You know... because you’ve been holding onto your... frustrations for so long. Maybe it’s all this repressed energy that made you lash out. Like... you've been a little too focused on being the ‘good girl,’ and now you’re overcompensating.”

Jaemin chuckled, clearly intrigued by where this was going, and leaned back in his seat, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, I see where this is going. So, you’re telling me that you’ve been, what stressed because of the whole ‘virginity thing’?”

You shot Lisa a disbelieving look. “What? That’s ridiculous. That’s not the problem.”

Lisa laughed and waved her hand dismissively. “I mean, it’s not just that, but come on. You’re in college now. You’re out partying, meeting people, and you’ve got all this new freedom. Maybe you’re just... figuring some things out. But hey, I’m not saying that’s the only reason.”

You snorted, a small laugh escaping despite yourself. “So, you’re saying I lashed out at Haechan because I haven’t gotten laid yet?”

Lisa shrugged, still grinning. “Look, I’m just saying, maybe there’s a little frustration there, building up, and Haechan just happened to be the unlucky target.”

Jaemin, always the more level-headed one, cut in, “I think Lisa’s just trying to make you laugh, Y/n. But seriously, maybe she’s onto something. You’ve been putting so much pressure on yourself to be perfect, to do everything right. Maybe you just need to let go a little. Not everything has to feel like a Rom-Com” 

You nodded, “Maybe you're right, I just need to hurry up and lose my virginity! It’s not a big deal anyways.”

“I mean mine was awful but it got rid of my nerves with the next girl,” Jaemin nodded along. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way they were talking about it so casually. Jaemin’s bluntness always had a way of making even awkward topics sound less serious.

"Wait, your first time was awful?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I was Sixteen. Clueless. Awful,” he said flatly. “But it’s like a rite of passage, right?”

Lisa snorted. “College is the perfect time to get your awkward phase out of the way.”

You nodded slowly. “You know what? You’re right. 2025 is the year I lose my virginity.”

Jaemin burst out laughing. Lisa threw her hands up in mock celebration. “Yes! New Year’s resolution: lose the V-card!”

“Just don’t treat it like a movie or a book,” Jaemin added. “It’s probably gonna be weird. But hey, at least it’ll be real.”

You groaned. “Ugh, you’re ruining the fantasy. Can’t I just pretend it’s gonna be magical?”

Lisa slapped your leg. “Oh, come on. You’ve read enough fanfiction to know better.”

You grabbed a pillow and smacked her with it. “Do not bring up the kind of smut I read!”

Lisa howled with laughter. “You’re blushing!”

“Shut up,” you muttered, hiding your face. But you were smiling.

Jaemin smirked. “With how much smut you read, you might as well go out and live it.”

You threw him a look, but your cheeks were burning. “You two are the worst.”

Lisa leaned in, eyes gleaming. “Tell us one thing. Do you still have that folder labeled ‘study material’?”

You groaned. “Can we not talk about my smut collection?”

Jaemin laughed. “I mean the amount of smut you read, you might as well be a slut…”

You shot Jaemin a playful glare, but the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed you. "Oh my god, seriously? You two are horrible," you muttered, covering your face with your hands to hide your embarrassment.

Lisa smirked, clearly loving every second of teasing you. "Come on, don’t be shy. We know you're into the good stuff, Y/n." She wiggled her eyebrows dramatically.

You flopped back on the couch. “Conversation over.”

Lisa grinned. “What? You used to read us your favorite fics, remember?”

You buried your face in the pillow. “That was when we weren’t in my apartment. It’s different here!”

“Is your roommate here?” Jaemin asked, glancing around.

You nodded. “Exactly. Haechan’s down the hall. Can you imagine if he heard all this? I’d die.”

The three of you burst into laughter, the kind that filled the apartment and pushed the heaviness away for a while. The sleepover didn’t last long—they both wanted to sleep in their own beds—but in those few hours, you felt a little less alone.

The next morning, your phone buzzed on the coffee table, waking you up. Sunlight came through the blinds, warming the room. You stretched on the couch, your neck sore from sleeping there, and reached for your phone. A message from Lisa was waiting.

Lisa Pookie: You passed out on us. We didn’t want to wake you, so we headed home. Hope you survived the night after all our teasing. See you soon.”

You smiled to yourself, the loneliness that had been sitting so heavy in your chest no longer there. But there was still something missing that you didn’t want to admit. 

With a sigh, you checked the time—it was almost noon. The apartment was quiet, not surprising. Haechan probably was still sleeping. 

You made your way into the kitchen to start making some coffee, still replaying the events of last night in your mind. The conversation with Lisa and Jaemin had made you realize just how stressed out you'd been, how much you’d been holding in. It felt like a release, but now, the weight of what had happened with Haechan was still lingering in the back of your mind. You knew you had to face him, but you had no idea how or when that would happen.

Just as you were about to pour the coffee into your mug, you heard footsteps behind you.

��Morning,” Haechan’s voice came, surprisingly calm.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. Your first instinct was to turn around and walk away, but you held yourself steady, trying to keep your composure. “Oh… hey, Haechan,” you said, your voice much less casual than you intended.

You hadn't expected him to speak to you after everything that happened. The argument, the cold silence… you assumed you’d both continue to tiptoe around each other. So why was he suddenly talking to you again?

He leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, his usual laid-back expression replaced with something softer. “Lisa and Jaemin left already?”

“Yeah, they left yesterday night. They were… just here to hang out.” You fiddled with the coffee filter, unsure how to act around him.

A brief silence stretched between you two. You felt the awkwardness from the night before still hanging in the air, thick and heavy. You didn't know how to break it.

Haechan cleared his throat, looking at the coffee machine like he was trying to figure out what to say next. “Listen, I... I know things have been weird between us lately, and I’m not great at talking about stuff like this. But, I wanted to clear the air.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Wait, what?” you said, still facing the coffee machine, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t… I don’t really know what you’re trying to say.”

Haechan's voice softened, and you finally glanced over at him, noticing how his usual cocky demeanor had shifted to something more sincere. “I know I messed up too,” he admitted. “I shouldn’t have pushed you like I did. But I was worried. I guess I was trying to look out for you... I’ve just been caught up in my own head too.”

You stared at him, taken aback by his words. For so long, you assumed he was angry with you, that he’d shut you out because of everything that happened. But this… this was different. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” you murmured, your own guilt creeping in. “I was mad, and I didn’t know how to… deal with all the stuff that was going on in my head. I guess I just… took it out on you.”

Haechan gave a slight nod, his eyes softening. “I get it,” he said quietly. “You’ve been under a lot of pressure. I shouldn’t have made it worse by trying to control you. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get hurt or… change in ways you didn’t want to.”

You felt a pang in your chest at his words, realizing that despite how hard you’d pushed him away, Haechan was still looking out for you. He wasn’t trying to control you, but protect you. It wasn’t easy to admit, but you could see that now.

“I’m sorry, Haechan,” you whispered, the knot in your chest loosening just a little. “I didn’t mean to push you away like that.”

Haechan’s lips curved into a small, understanding smile. “It’s okay. We both said things we didn’t mean. It happens.”

The tension between you two seemed to finally ease a bit. There was still an unspoken understanding of what had been said and done, but the air felt a little lighter, less suffocating. You grabbed your mug, finally turning toward him fully.

“Do you want some coffee?” you offered, unsure if it would be weird, but it felt like a small step toward rebuilding things.

Haechan nodded, his smile widening. “Sure. I could use some.”

As you handed Haechan his cup of coffee, you couldn’t help but notice the way he seemed more at ease now, his usual playful attitude returning bit by bit. He took a sip of the coffee, nodding in approval before setting the mug down on the counter.

“So,” Haechan began, leaning casually against the counter again. “Since we are on good terms again, how about we invite the others over for a game night tonight?” Haechan grinned, tapping his fingers on the counter as if he was already mentally planning the evening.

 “It’s been a while since we all hung out together. We could order some takeout, play a few games—maybe a couple rounds of Mario Kart, Monopoly, or something.” His eyes sparkled with excitement that you hadn’t seen in a while.

You hesitated for a moment, considering the idea. It would be nice to have everyone over. You missed those nights when you all just kicked back and had fun together, no pressure, no awkwardness. But then you remembered the last few weeks—the tension that had built up between you and Haechan. Would it be weird, to bring them over and act like everything was normal again?

Haechan must’ve sensed your hesitation because he quickly added, “It’ll be fun. I promise it won’t be awkward.”

You hesitated for another second, but the idea of good food and the mess of game night started to sound more and more appealing. After everything that had happened recently, you realized that maybe this was exactly what you needed—an evening with your friends to reset everything.

“Okay,” you agreed, finally giving in with a small smile. “That sounds good. We haven’t had a game night in forever.”

Haechan grinned, his smile contagious. “Great! I’ll text them. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the details. You just get ready to lose badly to me in Mario Kart.”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling softly. “We’ll see about that. I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s going to beat you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughed, nudging your shoulder playfully. “I’ll text the guys now. I’ll let you know when they’re on their way.”

He pulled out his phone while you took a sip of coffee, feeling a bit better. Maybe it was the thought of seeing your friends, or just how relaxed Haechan made things feel, but it seemed like everything might be okay again.

A few hours later, the sound of footsteps and the doorbell echoed through the apartment.

“Game night!” Chenle grinned, holding up a bag of snacks like a prize. “I brought chips, popcorn, and like, fifty sodas.”

Renjun held up a board game with a sly smile. “I brought Monopoly,” he said, wiggling his fingers like it was some kind of secret weapon.

“You brought Monopoly?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “You want us to fight?”

Jisung walked in last, looking the most unsure—like he’d just sat down with two divorced parents. “Maybe we shouldn’t play that…”

You and Haechan shared an amused glance as everyone settled in, setting out snacks and games. For the first time in a while, the tension between you and Haechan was gone. The usual noise of friends joking, arguing over what to play, and debating pizza toppings filled the room.

“Alright,” Haechan said with a grin. “Let’s make this interesting. Loser cleans up. Deal?”

You leaned back on the couch, smiling. “You’re on. Just don’t cry when you lose.”

“Oh, it’s on,” he said, crossing his arms with a smirk.

Everyone burst out laughing, and for the first time in weeks, things felt normal. Whatever happened before didn’t matter tonight. You were with your friends and everything felt right.

After a night where you finally felt like yourself again, it was time to step back into your college life. Sitting on your bed, journal in hand, your phone buzzed beside you. Lisa’s name lit up the screen, and you quickly answered.

“Y/n! How have you been?” Lisa’s voice rang with excitement.

You smiled, lying back on your bed as you relaxed into the call. “Honestly? Amazing. I finally made up with Haechan. It's no longer awkward… thank God. I don’t think I could’ve handled one more day of him looking all sad and mopey.”

“I knew you two would fix it!” Lisa cheered. “I’ve missed you guys being friends. Everything’s more fun when no one’s beefing. I can stop pretending I don’t see him on campus.”

You laughed. “Yeah, and I don’t have to constantly stress that I ruined half my friendships.”

There was a brief pause, then Lisa’s tone turned playful. “Sooo… now that the drama’s over, it’s time to celebrate. You, me, and Jaemin TONIGHT. There’s a frat party, and you know it’s gonna be crazy.”

You raised an eyebrow, already grinning. “A frat party? I haven’t been to one of those in forever. Not since me and Haechan had our fallout.”

“Exactly!” Lisa laughed. “It’s the perfect excuse to let loose. And the perfect place to do all the things we’ve been talking about. Sooo?”

You hesitated for half a second but then shrugged. “Why not? I’m in.”

“YES!” Lisa squealed. “Jaemin and I will pick you up at nine. Oh and please dress slutty!”

You burst out laughing. “Okay, okay! I’ll see you then.”

Ending the call, you sigh and head to your closet, Lisa’s words echoing in your mind. Something slutty… You pause. Do you even own anything she’d call slutty?

You dig through your clothes—everything feels too plain or safe. Then your hand stops on a dress you borrowed from her a while ago. She never asked for it back: a very short black dress with lace details.

Taking a deep breath, you slip it on. It fits snugly, hugging every curve, the hem high enough to make you tug it down without thinking. You turn to the mirror and pause. You look...Sexy. It's different but in a good way.

You grab a pair of dusty heels from the back of your closet to complete the look. Standing in front of the mirror, you adjust the dress one last time. A nervous excitement builds in your chest. In this dress? Yeah—you’re definitely getting laid tonight.

You were about to check Jaemin’s location when a knock sounded at your door. You looked up, surprised. Opening it, you found Haechan standing there.

His eyes scanned your outfit, eyebrows raised. “You look nice. Where are you going?”

You leaned against the doorframe, smiling. “Me and a couple friends are hitting up a frat party.”

Haechan grinned, clearly amused. “A frat party, huh? Sounds fun. Mind if I tag along? I could use a night out.”

You blinked. “You want to come with us?”

He shrugged casually. “Why not? Unless… you don’t want me there?”

You hesitated—not because you didn’t want him to come, but because the question caught you off guard. His casual tone made it hard to tell if he was joking.

You laughed, trying to keep things light. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t want you there. I just didn’t think frat parties were your thing, thought you preferred bars and clubs.”

“Why wouldn’t they be? I get to show up with a bunch of ladies,” he teased.

“Two ladies and Jaemin,” you corrected.

“Still counts. And I’d love to see how you are at a frat party.” There was a glint in his eye you might have missed if you weren’t already paying attention.

You shook your head, smiling. “Okay, fine. You can come. But don’t make it weird.”

He placed a hand over his heart, mock offended. “Weird? Me? Never.”

You both laughed. For the first time in a while, it felt like the old Haechan was really back.

“So,” he said after a pause, “I’ll go get ready.”

You nodded. “Yeah Yeah, just finishing up.”

“Cool. I’ll be quick.” He shot you a grin before walking off down the hall.

You took a deep breath. You slipped on your shoes, checked your reflection one last time, and grabbed your phone. A new message from Lisa lit up the screen.

“Can’t wait to see how sexy you are! I’m on my way. Get ready to partyyy!!!”

You smiled at Lisa’s message and quickly replied: “Already dressed ;) Haechan’s coming too, by the way.”

Her response came almost instantly: “No way! That’s perfect. This is going to be so much fun. See you soon!”

You grabbed your jacket and headed for the door, only to bump into Haechan again—this time dressed casually, but still effortlessly hot.

“All set?” he asked, giving you an approving once-over.

“Yup. Lisa should be here any minute,” you said with a small smile.

He stepped aside, motioning for you to lead the way, and the two of you headed downstairs. Just as you reached the front door, you heard the sound of Jaemin’s car pulling up.

Outside, the cool night air brushed your skin as you walked toward the car. Lisa was already in the front seat, and her eyes lit up the moment she saw you.

“Ooh, look at you two!” she said, grinning. “You clean up nice.”

You rolled your eyes, though a grin tugged at your lips. “Don’t start.”

Haechan just laughed, casually shrugging. “What can I say? I’m naturally this good-looking.”

Lisa laughed. “I’m glad you decided to come, Haechan. Now let’s go before they drink all the alcohol!”

You slid into the backseat, and Haechan followed, settling in beside you.

“All buckled up?” Jaemin asked, catching your eye in the rearview mirror with a playful wink.

“Buckled!” you said, the car pulling away as the night officially began.

The moment you stepped into the party, the energy hit you. The house was buzzing—people laughing, dancing, and talking over the loud music that vibrated through the walls. Dim lighting cast shadows and color across the room.

Near the entrance, you spotted Hendery, one of the frat guys, chatting with friends. His eyes lit up when he saw your group.

“Hey! You guys made it!” he said, flashing a wide grin that instantly made you feel welcome.

“Of course,” Lisa replied, giving him a quick side hug as she nudged past Jaemin. “Your frat always throws the best parties.”

“You’re too sweet. Let me know if you need anything!” Hendery replied before disappearing into the crowd to greet others.

You smiled softly and scanned the room. Haechan grinned beside you, casually slinging an arm behind Jaemin and Lisa.

“You guys don’t mind if I steal Y/n for a bit, do you?” he asked. His tone was light, but the way his eyes locked onto yours felt anything but casual—like a challenge.

Jaemin and Lisa raised their eyebrows and exchanged a look before giving nods of approval. With that, Haechan gently guided you into the crowd.

Your stomach flipped, though you weren’t sure why.

The music shifted into something bass-heavy, and soon you found yourself moving to the beat in the middle of the living room, Haechan never far from your side. He kept the mood light, joking and saying random things that made you laugh. You couldn’t deny how comfortable he made you feel—yet part of you started to notice how present he was. Every time you turned, he was there. Close. Watching.

Too close.

After a while, it became a bit much. You needed space, and more than that, you needed Lisa.

You nudged her side. “Come on, let’s go outside for a minute. I need some air.”

Lisa gave you a knowing look and smirked. “Yeah, same. Let’s go.”

The two of you slipped out into the hallway and stepped onto the small back porch. The cool night air hit your skin, refreshing after the heat and noise inside. The backyard was quiet, the music now just a low thump through the walls.

You let out a deep breath and turned to Lisa.

“Okay… I need to tell you something,” you said, fiddling with your jacket sleeve. “It’s about Haechan.”

Lisa raised an eyebrow, leaning against the porch railing. “Spill it.”

You let out a breath, feeling a little overwhelmed. “I don’t know what’s going on, but he hasn’t left my side all night. Every time I turn around, there he is—hovering like he’s guarding me or something. It’s driving me nuts, Lis. I can’t even breathe with him so close.”

Lisa’s expression softened with understanding, then shifted into a knowing smirk. “What if he’s into you? I mean… you do look sexy as hell right now.”

You scoffed. “Ew, no. And I’m pretty sure Mark already gave him the big brother talk. Sisters are off-limits, remember?”

Before Lisa could answer, Haechan’s voice cut through the night air.

“So… what’s all the whispering about?” he asked, suddenly leaning against the doorframe with a mischievous grin. “Did you sneak out here to hide from me?”

You turned to him with an exasperated look. “Haechan, seriously. We were just talking.”

“Talking, huh?” He raised a brow, clearly unfazed.

“Mind if I join? Or is this a no boys allowed kind of thing?”

Without waiting for an answer, he stepped closer, closing the space between you. You could practically feel the smirk radiating off him.

You rolled your eyes. “Haechan, I swear…”

Lisa glanced between you two, biting back a laugh.

You sighed dramatically, but you couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at your lips. “He’s impossible,” you muttered under your breath as you turned to head back inside.

And, of course, Haechan was right behind you—still grinning, still too close.

The party was in full swing now—the kind people would regret in the morning. Bodies moved recklessly to the beat (more like off the beat), drinks spilling from red cups, and laughter bouncing off the walls. You tried to disappear into the crowd, to lose yourself in the music, but it was impossible to ignore the weight of Haechan’s eyes on you from across the room.

Enough was enough.

You spotted Lisa laughing with a group nearby and tugged her sleeve. “Come with me to the bathroom,” you said quietly. “I need to get away from him for a few minutes.”

Lisa gave you a look—half amused, half knowing—but didn’t argue. “Gotcha. Let’s go.”

You followed her down the hallway, slipping into the bathroom. The moment the door shut behind you, you locked it and leaned against the counter with a frustrated sigh.

“I swear, I’m going to lose my mind,” you muttered. “How am I supposed to get laid tonight if my brother’s best friend is shadowing me like some overprotective bodyguard?”

Lisa laughed under her breath, but her expression turned sympathetic. “Yeah, I get it. That’s gotta be frustrating.”

You crossed your arms, feeling cornered. “I need some space, Lis. A little freedom to actually enjoy myself. I’m still convinced he’s doing this for Mark.”

Lisa raised an eyebrow, a mischievous look forming. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve got an idea.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice like she was letting you in on a secret. “There’s a guy over by the drinks table who’s been staring at you for the past few minutes.”

You blinked. “Wait—seriously? Staring how?”

Lisa grinned. "Like is undressing you with his eyes staring! And before you ask—yes, he’s hot.”

You straightened a bit, curiosity replacing your annoyance. “How hot are we talking?”

“Tall, dark hair slicked back, white shirt. Brooding. Definitely your type.”

You cracked a smile—your first genuine one of the night. “Damn. Okay. I owe you.”

Lisa winked. “Just promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“Go talk to him. I’ll handle Haechan. Just keep walking, don’t look back.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves buzzing under your skin. A distraction sounded perfect right now. A hot, mysterious distraction? Even better.

“Alright, alright, I’ll go,” you muttered, working up the courage.

Lisa gave you a playful shove and a small smack on your ass. “That’s my girl. Now go work your magic.”

You laughed softly, a mix of nerves and excitement twisting in your stomach as you opened the door.

Stepping back into the party, the music hit you again but your eyes scanned the crowd. And there he was. Just as Lisa said: white shirt, black slicked-back hair, standing by the drinks table.

And he was looking directly at you.

Your heart skipped a beat as you made your way through the crowd toward him. His gaze never wavered, and when you finally reached him, he offered a small, welcoming smile.

“Hey,” you said, aiming for casual, though your voice betrayed a hint of nervousness. “You’ve been eyeing me all night, haven’t you?”

His smile widened as he let out a soft laugh. “I could say the same about you.” He stepped a little closer. “I’m Jeno, by the way.”

“Y/n,” you replied, your nerves giving way to a flicker of excitement. His easy confidence was contagious.

“Y/n,” he repeated, almost like he was trying it on. His eyes swept over you with clear appreciation. “You look amazing tonight.”

You let out a small laugh, your boldness growing in the absence of Haechan’s constant hovering. “Thanks. I was just... wondering if you wanted to grab a drink with me?”

Jeno didn’t hesitate. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

As the two of you turned toward the drinks table, you glanced over your shoulder—half-expecting to find Haechan’s gaze following you—but to your relief, he was nowhere in sight.

Jeno leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing. “So, what’s a beautiful girl like you doing at a party like this? Looking to get drunk, or just letting loose?”

You smiled, playing along. “A little bit of both, honestly. It’s been a long night, and I needed a change of pace.”

He raised his cup in a mock toast. “Then I’m glad I could be your change of pace.”

Whatever tension you’d been carrying melted away as you kept talking. Jeno was warm, funny, easy to be around. Before long, your banter turned flirtier—light touches on your arm, lingering eye contact, small smiles exchanged between sips.

But across the room, Haechan had noticed.

He’d seen you at the drinks table, watched as you laughed at something Jeno said. Despite his usual teasing, playful attitude, an uncomfortable pang settled in his chest. He didn’t know why, but the sight of you getting so close to someone else made something inside him twist.

He tried to shake it off, turning back to the conversation with Lisa and the others, but his mind wasn’t in it.

At one point, Jaemin leaned toward him, raising an eyebrow. “You good, Haechan? You’re staring a little too hard at Y/n right now.”

Haechan blinked, pulled from his thoughts. He waved Jaemin off, trying to mask the unease tightening in his chest. “I’m fine,” he muttered. “Just… watching out for her. For Mark.”

Jaemin gave him a long, skeptical look. “She’s not a kid, man. She doesn’t need a babysitter. She’s allowed to have fun—same as you.”

Haechan opened his mouth to argue, then stopped. He didn’t have a good comeback. Just a growing knot in his stomach and the uncomfortable realization that he cared a lot more than he probably should.

Back at the drink table, you and Jeno were getting even more touchy with each other. Both of his hands are on your hips, one of them dangerously close to your ass. While your hands were around his neck, playing with the hair on his neck as he was talking into your ear. 

“Why don’t we go and find a better place to talk.” 

You tilted your head back slightly to meet Jeno’s intense gaze, your lips curling into a small smirk. “A better place to talk, huh? And where exactly did you have in mind?” you asked teasingly, though the butterflies in your stomach betrayed how nervous you were.

Jeno smirked, his fingers lightly touching your waist as he leaned in. “Let’s go somewhere quiet. Maybe a bedroom? Away from all this noise.”

The idea of some alone time with him was very tempting. The night had already taken a surprising turn, and you figured there was no harm in seeing where it would lead. “Alright,” you said, your voice softer now as you stepped back, giving him a playful tug on his hand. “Lead the way.”

As Jeno guided you through the crowded room, you were starting to get nervous. Was this finally happening? And with a hot guy like Jeno too? The music and energy of the party seemed to fade into the background as you both stepped into a room that was unlocked. 

Jeno shut the door and turned back to you. “I've been dying to kiss you all night.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” You teased back. 

Without another word, Jeno closed the distance between you, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you in for a kiss. His lips were warm and soft against yours. 

His touch was hot, every brush of his fingers against your skin sent shivers through you, and you found yourself getting lost in the moment with him. 

He backed up so he could sit on the bed with your lips still chasing his. As the kiss deepened, Jeno’s hands began to explore your body. Pulling you onto his lap and running his fingers up your back to push you further into him. 

Your body started to tense up, never getting this far with anyone before but you were so turned on. Jeno seemed to sense it too, his kisses growing more urgent as he trailed them down your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and you froze in place. Your heart leaped into your throat as you quickly pulled away from Jeno, your breath hitching. The startled look you exchanged with him was all too telling.

Haechan stood in the doorway, arms crossed and face unreadable. His eyes moved between you and Jeno, and for a moment, the room felt smaller.

Scrambling off Jeno’s lap, you felt a rush of heat rise to your cheeks. The embarrassment of being caught in such a compromising position burned in your chest. “Haechan, what—” you stammered, struggling to find the right words.

He didn’t let you finish. With a sharp motion, he raised a hand, his voice low and cutting. “Stop.”

His attention shifted to Jeno, his jaw tight as his eyes narrowed. The weight of his stare seemed to pin Jeno in place. After an intense moment of silence, Haechan spoke again, his voice controlled but icy. “Leave.”

Jeno blinked, clearly misunderstanding what was happening. His face changed as he realized something—like he thought your boyfriend had caught him. Without saying anything, he stood up, avoided Haechan’s glare, and quickly left. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving a heavy silence.

You turned to Haechan, your pulse still racing, only to find him... smiling? No, grinning. The amusement in his eyes was unmistakable as he leaned casually against the doorframe.

“Wow,” he laughed. “Can’t believe how fast he ran off. I said just one word!” His laughter got louder. “Okay, two words but still!” He held his side like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.

You stared at him, completely confused. “What the hell is going on?” you asked, your face full of disbelief. Your mind raced to keep up with how weird things had gotten.

Haechan straightened up, still chuckling, and said with a smug smile, “Relax, I’m just getting back at you.”

“Getting back at me?” you repeated, even more confused.

“For what?”

“There’s no way I’m letting you lose your virginity while you’re living under my roof,” he said with a proud smirk, like he’d just won something.

You blinked, shocked. “What?”

“I heard you guys at your little sleepover,” Haechan said, his grin growing wider as he saw your reaction. “So here’s the deal: I’m watching you like a hawk. No chance of losing your virginity this year. Not on my watch.”

You stared, speechless, trying to wrap your head around how bold he was. “Are you crazy?”

“Maybe,” he said casually, shrugging. “But you said I’m just Mark’s friend. Pretty sure he wouldn’t want his little sister making mistakes.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded, the weight of his words sinking in. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you finally said, shaking your head in disbelief. Haechan just grinned, the smugness in his expression making your blood boil. “Nope. Dead serious. Consider me your personal chastity belt.”

Your hands curled into fists at your sides. “Oh my god, you are insufferable.”

He just shrugged, stepping further into the room. “Protecting your purity, looking out for my best friend’s baby sister.”

Your jaw clenched at the title. “I am not a baby! You don’t need to protect me!.”

“Yeah?” He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “Then why are you acting like one? Running off with some random dude at a party? What if he was a creep?”

“He wasn’t,” you snapped. “And for the record, I decide who I hook up with, not you.”

Haechan let out a dramatic sigh, placing a hand over his heart. “And yet, here we are. That guy is gone, and you’re still a virgin.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” His smirk softened just a fraction, but it was enough to make you hesitate. “If you did, you wouldn’t be blushing so hard right now.”

You let out an aggravated groan, shoving past him toward the door. “Whatever, I’m going back to the party.”

But before you could yank it open, Haechan’s hand shot out, pressing it shut. The sudden closeness sent an unexpected shiver down your spine.

“Careful, princess,” he murmured, his voice lower now. Not teasing—just something else. Something quieter. “If you’re not careful, I might have to tell on you.”

Your breath hitched, just for a second. Then you forced yourself to scoff, pushing his hand away. “You wouldn't.”

He chuckled, stepping back with his hands raised in mock surrender. “You don’t know me.”

Rolling your eyes, you yanked the door open and walked out, trying to ignore the way your pulse was racing.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

You stormed back into the party, your mind racing with frustration. The nerve of that guy. Haechan had always been a little shit, but this? This was a new level of infuriating. The way he had looked at you just now. It stirred something hot in your chest, but you didn’t have the time or patience to deal with it right now.

You needed a distraction.

Lisa spotted you instantly, slipping through the crowd to meet you with a smug smile. “So?” she asked, arms crossed. “That was fast, how was it?”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “It was fine until he showed up.”

Lisa blinked. “Wait. Who?”

You shot her a pointed look. “Haechan.”

Her eyes widened before a slow smirk curled her lips.

“No way. What happened?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual: he ruined my night, embarrassed the hell out of me, and declared himself my personal guardian of celibacy,” you said, irritated. “Apparently, I’m not allowed to hook up while he’s around.”

Lisa let out a loud laugh, covering her mouth. “No. No way.”

“Oh, it gets worse,” you muttered, grabbing her drink and taking a long sip. “He admitted he heard us at that sleepover and now he’s made it his life mission to keep me from getting laid for an entire year, until Mark is back.”

Lisa practically doubled over laughing. “Oh my god. That’s fucking funny.”

You groaned. “This is hell.”

“Or…” Lisa tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s a challenge.”

You frowned. “A challenge?”

Lisa shrugged, leaning in closer. “You really gonna let Haechan win?”

You opened your mouth to argue but faltered. The way he had looked at you tonight, the way he had inserted himself into your business like he had any claim over what you did—it had pissed you off. But even worse? It had gotten to you.

Lisa was right.

Haechan thought he had control over this little sick game. That he could mess with your head, keep you from doing what you wanted.

But if there was one thing you hated more than anything, it was losing.

Your fingers tightened around the small red solo cup as a slow smirk pulled at your lips. “You know what?” you said, turning to Lisa. “You’re right.”

Lisa gasped. “Oh, I love where this is going.”

You glanced back toward the party, scanning the room for a certain cocky idiot. It didn’t take long to find him. He was lounging on the couch with a couple of people you didn’t know, a drink in hand, completely at ease. Like he hadn’t just ruined your night and enjoyed every second of it.

Fine.

If he wanted to play games, you’d play back.

Squaring your shoulders, you downed the rest of your drink and set it aside. “I’m gonna make his life miserable. ”Lisa clapped her hands. “Oh, this is gonna be so fun.”

For the rest of the night, you made sure Haechan saw everything.

You danced—a lot—letting your body move to the music, making sure he had a front-row seat. You laughed a little louder, leaned a little closer to guys when they spoke to you, let them put their hands on your waist, touch your hair.

And Haechan?

Oh, he noticed.

You caught his gaze more times than you could count. His eyes followed your every move, his relaxed demeanor slowly shifting into something else. He wasn’t smiling anymore. He wasn’t teasing you. He was just watching.

And when you caught him staring, you made sure to smirk. To let him know you knew he was watching. 

But the real moment of victory came when you leaned in close to some guy—you didn’t even know his name—and whispered something in his ear, leaving a small kiss just below on his neck. It was harmless flirting, really. But to Haechan?

It was you declaring war.

The moment you glanced back toward him, you saw it happen—his jaw tightened, his grip on his drink flexed, and then, just like that, he was up and walking straight toward you.

You barely had a second to react before he was across the room and his hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you away from your nameless toy.

“What the—Haechan!” you hissed, stumbling after him as he led you out of the crowded room.

Haechan didn’t stop.

Not when you tugged at his grip, not when you shot him a glare, not even when you dug your heels into the floor, forcing him to yank you forward with more force. The people around you barely noticed—too caught up in their own drunken world.

But this? This was personal.

“What the hell is your problem?” you snapped, struggling against his hold.

Haechan ignored you.

Instead, with a sigh so annoyed it made your blood boil, he let go—only to grab you by the waist and throw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.

Your breath caught as the room tilted and suddenly, you weren’t on solid ground anymore.

“What the—Haechan! Put me down!” You kicked your legs, smacking your fists against his back, but he didn’t even flinch.

“If you’re gonna act like a damn kid, I’ll treat you like one,” he muttered, adjusting his grip on the back of your thighs as he walked toward the front door.

“Haechan, I swear to—”

Before you could finish your threat, you felt a sudden shift—a cool rush of air against your thighs, a telltale sign of your dress riding up dangerously high from the way he was carrying you.

Your breath hitched.

Just as panic settled in, Haechan’s hand was there—gripping the hem of your dress, tugging it back down firmly, his fingers brushing over the bare skin of your thigh in a way that made your stomach flip.

The worst part? It was so effortless. Like it was second nature to him.

You froze.

Not because you were embarrassed—no, you had no shame when you drink. But because for a split second, just a brief moment, you had felt safe in his hands.

And that? That was dangerous.

The cold night air hit your skin as he stepped outside, finally setting you back on your feet near the front porch.

You barely had time to regain your balance before you were jabbing a finger into his chest. “You’re fucking crazy!! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Haechan let out a dry laugh, completely unfazed. “Oh, I’m the problem?”

“Yes, you!” You threw your hands up. “You just manhandled me out of a party like I’m some—some misbehaving child!”

Haechan crossed his arms, tilting his head. “If it walks like a brat and talks like a brat—”

You shoved him. Hard. “You so annoying—”

“Me?” He scoffed, stepping closer, closing the space between you. “You’ve been acting like a damn brat all night. You think I didn’t see what you were doing?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Oh? And what exactly was I doing?”

Haechan’s lips curled into a smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“You were testing me.”

Your breath caught.

Because he was right.

You forced a laugh, crossing your arms to hide the way your hands trembled. “Don’t flatter yourself, Haechan. I was having fun.”

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah? Well, so was I.”

The way he said it—low, amused, a little too smug—sent heat rushing up your spine.

Because suddenly, you weren’t so sure if you were still in control of this game.

Your professor dismissed the class and you quickly packed up your things, your mind already racing ahead to what you had to do next. You were relieved the lecture was over—today was dragging on longer than you'd hoped. Still feeling sick from the party over the weekend. But as you were gathering your notes, you noticed someone walking toward you from across the lecture hall.

It was Jeno.

He had that easy smile on his face, and you couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly confident he looked, despite the fact that you’d only met him the night before at the party. You weren’t sure what to expect.

"Hey, uh Y/n?” Jeno said as he reached your desk. "Do you mind if I sit for a second?"

"Uh, sure," you replied, a little caught off guard but trying to act casual. You gestured to the empty chair beside you. "What’s up?"

Jeno sat down, the energy around him just as laid-back as you remembered from the party. He looked like he could easily make a conversation with anyone, but something in the way he smiled at you made you feel like this was a bit different.

"So, I’ve been thinking," he began, his gaze focused on you, making you shift a little in your seat. "I never really got the chance to talk to you about the party, but I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch sometime?"

You blinked, surprised. You hadn’t expected this so soon. “Uh, sure, sounds good.” You immediately cursed yourself internally for sounding so awkward.

Then, without missing a beat, you added, “But just to be clear, I wasn’t… you know, trying to lead you on or anything last night.”

Jeno raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well," you hesitated, running a hand through your hair. "About last night—I just want you to know that Haechan is not my boyfriend."

The words felt a little odd coming out of your mouth, but you knew you had to clarify things. With everything that had happened, you didn’t want Jeno to get the wrong impression.

Jeno’s expression softened, and he gave a small, reassuring smile. “Oh, I wasn’t thinking that he was. I mean, I could tell you two are close, but I didn’t assume he was anything more than that."

"Good," you said, feeling some relief wash over you. “He’s more like a big brother to me, honestly.”

“Aha, I see.” Jeno nodded, his expression lightening. “So, no need to worry about me stepping into some complicated territory, huh?”

You let out a small laugh. “Exactly. Haechan is just protective, and I figured I should clear that up so there’s no confusion.”

Just protective, god you wish. Would be easier than whatever this game you to are playing… 

Jeno chuckled, leaning back slightly in his chair. “Yeah, I was starting to wonder if I was doing something wrong." He grinned. "But now that we’ve got that all sorted out, lunch sounds perfect."

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” you said, smiling back at him. “So, where were you thinking?”

“Well, there’s this little café nearby that I’ve been wanting to try. You up for it?”

You nodded, feeling surprisingly at ease now. "Sounds good. Lead the way."

Jeno stood up, his easygoing energy still radiating, and offered his hand to help you gather your things.

"Alright, let's go."

The café Jeno picked was tucked on a quiet street, filled with the scent of fresh bread and soft chatter. Sunlight poured through big windows, casting a warm glow over the cozy wooden tables.

You and Jeno had settled into a corner booth, the conversation flowing effortlessly as you both exchanged stories and talked about class. It felt different, in a good way, than anything you’d ever experienced.

The awkwardness that usually came with first dates or getting-to-know-each-other moments was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was a natural ease between you two—like you had known each other much longer than a single night.

"So, you’re telling me," Jeno said with a raised eyebrow, his lips curled into an amused smile, "that you got in trouble for sneaking out of your house when you were younger because your brother caught you trying to climb out of the window?"

You laughed, feeling a sense of familiarity that made the conversation feel comfortable. "It’s true! My brother is the worst. He’s such a stickler for the rules, always catching me when I tried to sneak out."

Jeno shook his head in disbelief. “Man, I don’t know whether to feel bad for you or your brother. You must’ve given him so much stress growing up.”

You smiled, shrugging lightly. “It wasn’t all bad. He’s just... protective. A little too protective sometimes.”

Jeno leaned in, his tone softening as he met your eyes. “I get it. Siblings are always like that, especially when you’re the younger one, right?”

Your smile faltered just a little as your mind briefly wandered back to Haechan’s overbearing presence at the party last night. You didn’t want to bring it up, but you found it hard to ignore the parallel. "Yeah," you agreed quietly, "a little too protective sometimes."

You were relieved when the conversation shifted again, back to lighter topics. It felt nice to be able to focus on Jeno, his presence reassuring in a way you didn’t fully understand yet.

“So, tell me more about you,” you said, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. “What’s your deal? What do you do when you’re not out at parties or flirting with random girls?”

Jeno grinned, clearly pleased with the shift in focus. “Oh, you know. I’m a professional at avoiding work,” he teased. “I’m actually pretty into cars, though. I spend a lot of time fixing up the car my dad bought when he was younger.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Cars? That’s pretty cool.”

He shrugged modestly. “It’s a hobby for now, but maybe one day it’ll be more than that.”

You could see the passion in his eyes as he talked about it, and for a brief moment, you were reminded of how nice it was to talk to someone who wasn’t caught up in your complicated family dynamics. Jeno made it feel easy, like you could be yourself without worrying about the world closing in.

But of course, just as you were starting to relax fully, the door to the café jingled, and you heard a voice you knew all too well.

“Y/n?”

Your blood went cold as you looked up, and there he was—Haechan. He stood in the doorway, his eyes immediately locking on to you, and his gaze was sharp, like a hawk spotting its prey. He looked... annoyed.

You swallowed hard, already feeling the shift in the energy of the room. Jeno didn’t seem to notice at first, but as Haechan made his way toward your table, his expression changed.

“Haechan,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, but it came out more like a question.

Haechan’s eyes flicked from you to Jeno, his lips curling into a tight, unreadable smile. "What’s this? Lunch?" His tone was casual, but there was something in his voice that made you tense. "Hope I’m not interrupting anything."

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, embarrassment mingling with frustration. "What are you doing here?"

Haechan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took a seat across from you without waiting for an invitation, eyeing Jeno with an almost unsettling calm look. "I was just walking by when I saw you two in the window." His gaze flicked back to you. "What? Did I miss something?"

Jeno shifted slightly, clearly picking up on the tension in the air. "No, nothing. Just talking," he said with a forced smile. "We were actually having a pretty good conversation."

Haechan’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his attention focused entirely on Jeno now. “I see. A ‘good’ conversation, huh?” His voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it now. “Well, hopefully not the fun I like to have...Don’t want to have to call Mark.”

The tension in the air hung like a thick cloud as Haechan’s words lingered, leaving you unsure how to respond. The playful edge to his tone was hard to ignore, but it felt like there was more to it. You could feel Jeno’s shift in energy, his smile faltering just slightly as he turned his attention back to Haechan.

Jeno tilted his head, as if processing something. "Wait," he said, his eyes narrowing just a little as he looked at you. "Mark... Lee?" he asked cautiously. "Is that your brother?"

You blinked, momentarily thrown off guard by the question. "Yeah, that's him. Mark Lee," you confirmed, trying to keep things light, even though your insides were swirling.

Jeno’s expression seemed to soften for a moment, a look of recognition crossing his face. "No way," he said with a small laugh. "I didn’t put it together until now. I know Mark. We play basketball together."

Your eyes widened, and you looked between Jeno and Haechan, who was still watching with an unreadable expression. "You do?" you asked, trying to process the sudden turn of events.

Jeno nodded, his grin returning. "Yeah, we’ve played a few times. He’s pretty good." His gaze flicked back to Haechan, who was still eyeing him closely. "Never knew he had a sister at college, though."

Haechan gave a low chuckle. "You really didn’t, huh?" he said, his voice dipping into something a little more guarded. "Well, that changes things, doesn't it?"

Jeno shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his smile now gone, replaced by a more serious expression. "I didn’t mean to step on any toes," he said, meeting Haechan’s eyes briefly before turning back to you. "But I think... maybe I should just make this clear now." He hesitated, as though considering his words carefully. "I don’t think it’s a good idea to continue this."

Your heart sank, confusion rising in your chest. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice a little quieter than usual.

Jeno looked at you, his gaze apologetic. "I can’t do that to Mark," he said softly. "I’ve got a lot of respect for him, and I don’t want to get involved in any of that. I wasn’t thinking about it like that last night, but now that I know he’s your brother... it just feels off."

The words hit you harder than expected, and for a second, you didn’t know what to say. You tried to keep your emotions in check, but something in you shifted. You nodded slowly, though there was a sharp sting in your chest. "I get it," you managed to say, forcing a small smile despite the disappointment creeping in.

"No worries, Jeno. I completely understand."

Jeno gave a small, regretful smile. "I didn’t want to make things weird, honestly. You seem like a great person, Y/n. But... yeah, I think it’s better we leave it at that."

Haechan, who had been silently watching the exchange, finally spoke up, his tone light but sharp. "Well, it looks like you two have it figured out," he said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. "Guess I’ll let you guys finish up now."

You could feel the weight of the moment, but you didn’t know what else to say. The conversation had shifted again, and though discomfort lingered, the air lightened as Jeno stood and gave you a small nod.

“Take care, Y/n. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

As Jeno walked away, the silence that settled felt suffocating. His words still stung in your chest, but something sharper quickly took hold. You glanced over at Haechan, lounging back with that smug, knowing look that only made your irritation grow.

Breaking the silence, Haechan’s voice was casual, almost playful. “Mark sure had a lot of friends here,” he said with a smirk, clearly enjoying the moment.

You exhaled sharply, trying to keep your cool even as frustration bubbled up. “Don’t act like you know everything, Haechan,” you snapped. You do things your way, sure—but don’t think you can just sit here and act like you’ve got it all planned out.”

His smirk didn’t falter. “Oh? Getting worked up already?”

Crossing your arms, you took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “Worked up?” you scoffed. “You think you’re going to win this? News flash you can’t be around me all the time. I’ll be alone at one point and I do not care who it’s with anymore.”

Haechan’s eyes flickered with playful challenge as he leaned forward, clearly loving how riled you were. “So, what then? Are you gonna storm off in a huff, or actually do something about it this time?”

You met his gaze, determination hardening in your voice. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?” you said, leaning forward slightly. “Well, here’s the thing, Haechan—you’re wrong. I don’t need your permission or your approval to make my own choices. I’ll do what I want, when I want, and if you think you can control that, you’re in for a surprise.”

Haechan’s smirk wavered for a moment, his eyes narrowing, clearly processing your words. But instead of backing off, he leaned in, sensing the challenge in your stance. “You really think you can?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Oh I know I can.”

The words hung in the air between you two, the tension thickening with every passing second. Haechan’s smirk was gone now, replaced by a look that bordered on both surprise and respect.

Haechan was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable, but the challenge had been thrown down. He wasn’t used to people pushing back like this. Especially not you. 

Finally, with a small sigh, he stood up, stretching casually. “Alright, Y/n. You’ve got some fight. Let’s see if you can actually win it.”

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reply. You weren’t about to let Haechan walk all over you. This was your game now.

There’s a beat of silence before Lisa practically screams into the phone.

“Wait, what? Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, glancing toward your door as Haechan’s voice rises. “I just… need to get out of here. Haechan has been driving me crazy all day.”

Lisa laughs, the kind of laugh that says finally. “Oh my god, yes! I can’t believe you’re actually doing this. You better not bail on me.”

“I won’t. Just… pick me up before I change my mind.

“Done,” Lisa says, practically buzzing with excitement. “You’re gonna regret this—in the best way possible.”

You hang up just as Haechan’s voice explodes with curses at his monitor.

Yeah, you definitely made the right call.

You tiptoe around your room, careful to be as quiet as possible. Haechan’s door is cracked just enough for the rapid clicking of his controller and the occasional muttered curse to seep out. Perfect—he’s too focused to notice.

You slide the closet door open slowly and wince when the hinge creaks. You freeze, holding your breath. Nothing — just button mashing and Haechan’s frustrated shout, “Bro, you’re absolutely dogshit at this game!” from his room.

Satisfied, you carefully pull out your outfit, laying it on your bed. You skip the heels— no way you’re risking the sound of those clicking on the floor— and pick boots instead. Quietly, you slip into your clothes. 

Your makeup bag is another challenge. Every zipper and brush feels like it sounds too loud, but you manage to get ready with only one small eyeshadow palette dropping to the floor. You freeze again, heart racing— but all you hear is Haechan yelling at his game.

“Dude, I carried the whole team, what are you even doing?”

Rolling your eyes, you grab your purse and phone, slipping toward the door like a shadow. Just as you reach for the handle, you hear Haechan’s voice rise again.

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”

Panic flashes through you as you freeze. 

“YOU’RE GOING THE WRONG WAY, GO RIGHT ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?!”

You smirk, shaking your head as you slip out the door. Safe.

The club is packed, the music blasts through the walls, lights flash quickly, and people move to the beat, lost in the moment. You take a sip of your drink, scanning the room with a purpose. Tonight isn’t about dancing with Lisa or drowning in overpriced cocktails. Tonight, you have one goal— to find someone, anyone, to take your mind off everything. Off your week, off your annoying roommate, off him.

Lisa leans in close, grinning like she already knows. “So,” she teases, “are you searching for someone to take your virginity?”

You laugh, but you don’t deny it. “That’s the plan.”

Lisa practically squeals, grabbing your arm and pulling you toward the dance floor. “Come on! I’ll help you find someone.”

It doesn’t take long. A few songs in, you spot him — tall, dark hair that falls just right, and a lazy smile that says he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s been watching you too, and when you meet his eyes, he doesn’t look away.

“Go!” Lisa urges, practically shoving you forward.

You make your way over, moving through the crowd until you’re close enough to feel the heat radiating off him.

“Hey,” he says, voice low and smooth. “I’m Sungchan.”

“Y/n,” you reply, giving him your best smile.

“You wanna dance?” he asks, but his hand is already sliding to your waist like he knows your answer.

“Sure,” you say, stepping in closer.

The music pulses through you, but it’s hard to focus on anything except the way his hands linger on your hips, fingers pressing just a little tighter each time you move. He leans in, lips brushing your ear.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

You nod, following him toward the bar. He keeps his hand on you the whole way, light but firm. Like he’s making sure you don’t change your mind.

When he hands you the drink, you take a slow sip, eyes meeting him over the rim of the glass.

“So,” Sungchan says, his voice low enough that you have to lean closer to hear him. “Your place or mine?”

You laugh softly, setting your drink down. “Straight to the point.”

He smirks, leaning in a little closer. “I don’t like wasting time,” he says, his gaze lingering on your lips before meeting your eyes again.

You raise an eyebrow, surprised at his forwardness, but it’s exactly what you wanted tonight. You give a small shrug, leaning back against the bar. “I like that.”

Sungchan’s hand slides to your lower back, his fingers just brushing the edge of your skin. You can feel the tension in the air, eager. “So, what’s it gonna be?” he asks, his tone playful but with an edge of anticipation.

You glance over at Lisa, who’s still dancing on the floor, lost in her own world. She doesn’t seem to notice you slipping away with him.

“Let’s go to yours,” you say, your voice calm, cool, and collected—like you’ve done this a hundred times before. Even though inside, your heart’s racing.

His grin widens as he takes your hand. “I like the way you think.”

The two of you weave through the crowd and out into the night, the air outside cooler and quieter than you expected. The buzz of the club fades with each step, replaced by the hum of the city and your own nervous thoughts. The car ride to his place is filled with easy conversation and stolen glances, your legs brushing just enough to keep your heart fluttering. You tell yourself to relax, to go with it. And for once, you do.

Now, tangled on his couch with his lips on yours, things are heating up fast… until your phone buzzes. You both ignore it.

Then it rings again.

You groan, pulling back slightly. “Sorry. It’s probably nothing.”

Sungchan smiled at first, brushing it off, but when the screen lit up for the third time, his expression shifted from playful to slightly annoyed.

“You should just answer it,” he said, trying to sound casual, though you could hear the edge in his voice. “Might be important.”

You sighed and glanced at the screen—FaceTime from Haechan.

“Ugh, it’s just my roommate,” you muttered, answering reluctantly. “What, Haechan?”

On the screen, Haechan’s face filled the frame, eyes narrowed. “Where the hell are you??”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m fine. I’m just out.”

Before you could say anything else, Sungchan leaned over to peek at the screen. The second Haechan saw his face, he froze.

“Wait… is that Sungchan?”

Sungchan chuckled. “Oh hey man! What’s up?”

“WHAT?!” Haechan practically shouted, his face going red. “NO. NOPE. Absolutely not. Y/N is off limits! Bro code!”

You blinked, shocked. “Wait, what? You two know each other?”

“We game together,” they both said at the same time.

“Bro. Code.” Haechan repeated, glaring through the screen like he was ready to jump out of it.

You quickly hung up, face burning, trying to laugh it off. “That was... awkward. Let’s just, where were we” You leaned in to kiss him again.

But Sungchan pulled back slightly, looking torn. “I mean… he’s got a point. Bro code’s kind of sacred.”

You stared at him. “Seriously?”

He gave a sheepish smile. “I mean that’s my bro...you know”

You flopped back against the couch with a groan. “Unbelievable.”

“Lisa, I’m telling you—he’s the absolute worst!” you groan, slamming your drink on the table. “I’ve almost gotten laid twice and both times he just shows up out of nowhere and ruins it!”

Lisa tries to hide her laugh but fails miserably, snorting into her cup.

“This isn’t funny! This was your idea!”

“It was also Jaemin’s idea!” she says, still grinning.

“What was my idea?” Jaemin asks, sliding into the seat across from you with a tray of food.

“Y/N losing her virginity this year,” Lisa says bluntly.

“Shh!” you hiss, covering your face with your hands.“Can we not announce it to the whole dining hall?”

Jaemin blinks. “Okay… someone needs to catch me up.”

“Y/N can’t get laid because Haechan has apparently taken some kind of sacred vow to block it from ever happening or just until Mark gets back,” Lisa explains. “He’s ruined every opportunity so far.”

Jaemin pauses, then shrugs. “Damn. That’s wild.”

You glare at him. “Wow. Thank you, Jaemin. Your emotional support is overwhelming.”

“Wait, wait,” he says, raising a hand. “There’s actually a clear answer to all of this.”

“And what is it?” 

“Haechan’s cockblocking you? Then just sleep with him.”

You stare at Jaemin. “First of all—ew. Second, he’d never sleep with me.”

Lisa raises an eyebrow and interjects. “He’s a man. Of course he would.”

You scoff, tossing a grape at Lisa’s forehead. “He sees me as, like… a sibling. Not a possible sexual option at all.”

Lisa dodges the grape with a smirk. I saw the way he looked at you at the party, definitely not like a sibling.”

Jaemin,who started this whole thing, finally chimes in. “Honestly, it would make things way easier. He can’t block when he’s the target.”

You lift your head to glare at him. “My virginity shouldn’t be a game, Jaemin.”

“Didn’t say it was. But I am saying if you throw him a little something, he might back off.”

Lisa nods, eyes gleaming. “Exactly! Reverse psychology. Be so into him, he won’t know what to do.”

You blink. “You guys seriously think seducing Haechan is the solution to him cockblocking me?”

Both of them say, in perfect sync: “Yes.”

You lean back in your chair, staring up at the ceiling like it might give you an answer. “This is the worst plan I’ve ever heard.”

Jaemin grins. “That means it’s probably gonna work.”

Just then, your phone buzzes. Speak of the devil.

The Devil (Haechan): Where are you? You didn’t come home last night but I texted Sungchan and you left his house???

You hold up your phone to show them. “He tracks my every move. He probably has my location synced to his watch.”

Lisa leans in. “Good. Now you’ve got the upper hand.”

You narrow your eyes. “Okay. Let’s say I do this. I flirt. I play the game. What’s the end goal?”

Jaemin shrugs. “You win. He gets flustered. Maybe he finally stops acting like your personal chastity belt.”

Lisa grins. “And hey, if it leads to something more...”

You sigh, staring at Haechan’s name on your screen. “This is either going to work… or be a complete humiliation.”

Jaemin raises his drink. “To plan seduction.”

Lisa clinks hers with his. “To plan seduction.”

You groan but lift yours anyway. “God help me.”

You take one last look in the mirror, tousling your hair just enough to look effortless, even though you’ve spent ten minutes perfecting the effect. Oversized hoodie, but nothing underneath except a pair of black shorts— that make your ass look great— barely visible beneath the hem, lips glossed, Legs bare and freshly shaved.

You weren’t going to say anything. But if he noticed? Good. That was the point.

You stroll into the living room where Haechans glued to the screen, headset on, barking orders at his teammates.

“Bro—no, do not peek mid—oh my god, why am I the only good one on this team?!”

You drop onto the couch beside him, slow and smooth, letting your bare thigh brush his for just a second too long. He doesn’t even flinch.

You reach for his chips, eyes on the screen. “You sound stressed.”

He doesn’t look at you. “Because I’m carrying this squad. What are you doing out here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you murmur, your voice a little lower than usual. “Thought I’d come... unwind.”

He grunts in response, attention locked on the game. Typical.

You shift, pulling one leg up onto the couch, the hem of your hoodie riding just a little higher. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him.

Nothing.

You lean back, arching slightly as you stretch your arms above your head. “Ugh. Today was exhausting.”

Still nothing.

You glance over, pouting a little. “Are you seriously not gonna pay attention to me?”

He finally spares you a glance. “You want attention?”

You meet his eyes and let your voice drop just a notch. “Maybe.”

There’s a pause. A tiny flicker in his gaze as it drops—briefly—to your bare legs, then back up. But then he just shrugs.

“I’m in the middle of a match.”

You lean in closer, lips inches from his ear, and whisper, “Your game will still be there in five minutes.”

He stiffens slightly, clearing his throat, but refuses to take the bait. “You’re acting weird.”

You smile, slow and deliberate. “No I’m not.”

He looks at you again, brows furrowed, suspicious—but not quite catching on. “You... eat something weird?”

You snort, flopping back against the cushions. “Unbelievable.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, grabbing the throw blanket and tossing it over your lap. “Forget it.”

He focuses back on the game, but his movements are stiffer now. Less focused.

You smirk to yourself, biting your lip.

One step at a time.

You stretch out under the blanket, legs brushing against him again—this time not by accident. Haechan stiffens for half a second, then adjusts slightly, pretending not to notice.

Pretending badly.

You glance over and catch the way his jaw tightens. He’s losing focus. Good.

“You always this fun playing video games?” you ask, voice soft, with a hint of a tease. “All grumpy and bossy?”

He scoffs, eyes on the screen. “I’m not grumpy. I’m competitive.”

“Hmm.” You trail a finger along the seam of the blanket between you, slow and idle. “I think it’s kinda hot.”

This time, his head snaps toward you.

“What?”

You blink innocently. “What?”

He narrows his eyes, studying you. “What are you doing?”

You tilt your head, lips parted in a mock pout. “Talking. Sitting. Breathing. Why?”

“You’re being weird again.”

You smirk. “You said that already. Maybe you’re just reading into things.”

He looks at you, skeptical… then clearly decides not to push it. Instead, he returns to his game, but now he’s quieter. Shifting more in his seat. His hands are on the controller, but his head’s somewhere else—and you know exactly where.

You take your chance.

Slowly, you slide the blanket off your legs, exposing smooth skin and shorts that might as well not be there at all. You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flick over, quickly, like he didn’t mean to.

But you saw it.

You lean in again, resting your arm on the back of the couch behind him, lips dangerously close to his ear.

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m not,” he says quickly, voice just a little too sharp. Defensive.

You grin. “You totally are.”

“Why are you even out here right now?”

“I told you. Couldn’t sleep.” You pause, letting the next words hang. “Thought maybe you’d help tire me out.”

He finally pauses the game. The room goes quiet.

His gaze slowly moves to yours—finally, fully focused. There’s something unreadable in his expression, like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle and doesn’t like how much of it he’s already solved.

“You’re messing with me,” he says, almost accusingly.

You let out a soft, amused breath. “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “Because Lisa dared you to? Because Jaemin put money on it? Or maybe you’re just bored.”

You lean back slightly, holding his stare. “Or maybe I’m just tired of waiting for someone else to make a move.”

His mouth opens slightly—then shuts again. No comeback this time.

You move to stand, stretching slowly. “Anyway, if you’re not interested…”

You turn to walk away—just a few steps—before you hear the soft clatter of his controller hitting the coffee table.

“Y/N.”

You stop. Look over your shoulder. “Hmm?”

His voice is low. Measured. Barely above a whisper.

“You can stay here” 

“But you're no fun.” You smile—slow and victorious—and continue to head to your room.

Game on.

The next night, you decide to take things further.

It’s not like you’re trying to seduce him just to win a bet—though Lisa and Jaemin smug faces definitely motivate you—but Haechan started this war. And you? You’re finishing it.

Your outfit is technically sleepwear. Technically. A cropped baby tee that clings just right, and lace-trimmed boy-shorts that look more like underwear than shorts. You throw on one of Haechan’s hoodies for effect, letting it slip off one shoulder like it just happened to fall that way. You check yourself in the mirror. Hot. But casual. Chill. Sexy… but not desperate.

Okay, maybe a little desperate.

When you pad into the kitchen, it’s late. Lights are dim, just the microwave clock glowing blue, and Haechan at the counter in a pair of sweats, pouring cereal into a bowl. You lean against the fridge. “Midnight snack?”

He glances at you. Freezes. Eyes drop to your legs, up to his hoodie falling off your shoulder, then dart away like he didn’t see anything. “Uh—yeah.”

You cross the kitchen slowly, deliberately, hips swaying just a little too much. “You always eat Frosted Flakes like it’s a full-course meal?”

He stirs the cereal. “I was hungry.”

“Mmm. Me too.” You step beside him, reaching up into the cabinet for a glass even though you don’t need one, his hoodie rising just enough to expose the edge of your lace shorts. You know he notices—his spoon pauses mid-stir.

“You’re not wearing pants,” he says flatly, eyes fixed on his bowl.

You grin. “So observant. That’s new.”

“I’m not blind,” he mutters.

You grab a glass and fill it slowly at the sink, the silence heavy. Then you turn around and lean against the counter, sipping water like it’s wine, letting your gaze travel over him.

“You’re acting weird again,” he says without looking at you.

You tilt your head. “You always say that when you’re flustered.”

He finally looks up, squinting at you. “I’m not flustered.”

You take a step closer. “No?”

“Just… confused.”

Another step. “By what?”

He doesn’t back away, but his grip on the spoon tightens. “By you. One second you're swearing I’m the worst person in your life, and the next you’re—” His eyes flick over you again. “—doing whatever this is.”

You pretend to think, lips twitching. “You mean standing in my kitchen? Wearing my hoodie.”

He squints. Brow furrows.

You pause, watching the shift behind his eyes as it clicks.

“Wait.” He leans in a fraction, eyes narrowing at the fabric hanging off your shoulder. “Is that—?”

You smile sweetly. “—your hoodie? Yeah. looks better on me, doesn’t it?”

He blinks like he’s been hit. “Why are you wearing that?”

You take a step forward, chest brushing his arm, voice soft and teasing. “It was cold. And It smelled nice.”

“Y/N.”

You grin wider. “Yes?”

He exhales hard through his nose, looking at the hoodie again like it personally betrayed him. “You seriously just put on my clothes and strutted out here like nothing?”

“Would it have worked better if I crawled?”

He stares at you, completely thrown off now—spoon forgotten, cereal soggy in the bowl, brain short-circuiting. “You’re actually insane.”

“Funny,” you murmur, tracing a line down his chest with your finger, “you haven’t exactly told me to take it off.”

“Because I don’t know what’s happening,” he mutters.

You tilt your head, stepping in again, lips inches from his jaw. “Want me to spell it out for you?”

He swallows hard.

You smile, slow and dangerous. “I’m wearing your hoodie, Haechan. In your kitchen. At midnight. No pants. Do the math.”

And the look he gives you?

Yeah, he’s definitely doing the math now. But he still doesn't say anything. 

“You’re so stupid sometimes” You trail a finger down the middle of his chest, right where the hoodie hangs loose. “But unfortunately, you’re also hot. Which is really inconvenient.”

His throat bobs as he swallows hard. “Y/n…”

You reach up, tugging gently at the collar of his hoodie like it’s a leash. “You always show up when I’m about to hook up with someone else. But when it’s you? Suddenly you’re acting like I’m a bomb about to go off.”

He leans back slightly against the counter, unsure whether to stay or run. “Because you’re not serious.”

You blink at him. “Who says I’m not?”

He stares at you like he’s trying to x-ray through your intentions. You let the silence stretch.

Then you slowly push up on your toes, your lips brushing his jaw—not kissing, just close enough to make his breath catch.

“You gonna stop me?” you whisper.

He exhales sharply. “Maybe I should.”

You smile against his skin. “But you haven’t.”

And just like that, snap, something shifts.

His hand shoots up, gripping your waist—not hard, but firm. Controlling. Like he’s done pretending this isn’t happening. You gasp, just a little, your hands finding the fabric of his shirt as he pulls you flush against him.

“This is a bad idea,” he whispers but he doesn’t move away.

You grin, lips inches from his. “Maybe it is but I don’t care.”

His mouth crashes into yours. It’s not gentle. It’s not careful. It’s the kind of kiss that comes after too much tension and not enough logic, all heat and frustration and barely restrained want. You curl your fingers in his hoodie, tugging him closer.

Then suddenly, he breaks it. Pulls back. Breathing hard. “Shit.”

You blink, dazed. “What?”

He runs a hand through his hair, pacing a step away. “This is…You’re not thinking clearly.”

“Oh my god,” you groan. “You kissed me back and now I’m the one not thinking clearly?”

“You said I’m your brother’s best friend.”

“I also said you’re hot.”

He stares at you like he’s at war with himself. “Mark would literally kill me.”

You walk forward, reaching for him again. “He’s not here.”

“I still have to live with myself,” he says, his voice wavering.

You lean in one last time, kissing the corner of his mouth, soft and slow. “Then live with this.”

And with that, you walk out of the kitchen, hips swinging, leaving him breathless and speechless in the glow of the microwave light.

You don’t look back but you know he’s watching.

Game on. And this time? You’re definitely winning.

The next few days?

Weird.

You don’t see Haechan around the apartment much. Which is wild, considering you live with him. When he is there, he’s conveniently in his room, headphones on, or mysteriously "out" right before you get home. He even bailed on movie night, claiming “Renjun said something came up,” but you know Renjun sitting two couches away from you eating popcorn.

It’s like he’s allergic to eye contact now.

And the worst part?

He’s perfectly normal around everyone else.

With Chenle and Jisung, he’s his usual chaotic, shit-talking self. Laughing, shouting at video games, raiding the fridge like nothing happened. But the second you walk in the room, he tenses. Quiet. Distant.

Awkward.

It’s driving you insane.

“I think he’s avoiding me,” you grumble, dragging a fry through your milkshake before flinging it into your mouth.

Lisa raises an eyebrow, sipping her iced coffee. “You think?”

“Okay, fine, I know he is. He’s literally hiding. Like a losing coward.”

Jaemin leans back in the booth, arms spread across the backrest, casually smug. “Should’ve crawled.”

You glare. “Do not start.”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs, “You did the whole ‘I’m not seducing you unless you want me to’ bit. And now he’s spiraling. Mission accomplished?”

“Except now he won’t even look at me,” you huff. “What’s the point if he won’t face me?”

Lisa drums her nails on the table. “Okay. We need a new plan.”

“Oh no,” Jaemin mutters, already bracing himself.

Lisa sits up straighter, eyes gleaming. “This time, he is avoiding you so he won’t even notice while your gone and you can find another hot ass stranger to go home with—”

Jaemin suddenly starts laughing.

Like full-on laughing, shoulders shaking, hand over his mouth like he’s trying to keep it together but failing miserably.

You and Lisa both blink at him.

“What the hell is so funny?” you ask, unimpressed.

He wipes a fake tear from the corner of his eye, snickering. “You. Both of you.”

Lisa frowns. “Excuse me?”

“A stranger, Lisa lets be real here, she doesn't want to have sex with a random stranger anymore...”

You narrow your eyes. “And what does that mean?”

Jaemin looks at you, all too smug. “Y/N… are you catching feelings for Haechan?”

Your brain stalls.

Lisa chokes on her drink.

“What?!” you sputter, nearly knocking over your shake. “No. No, no. This is just—revenge flirting. Remember.”

“Uh-huh,” Jaemin says, raising an eyebrow.

Lisa coughs. “Actually… that would explain the spiral.”

You whip your head toward her. “Whose side are you on?”

“I’m just saying,” she says, holding up her hands, “if you’re this mad that he’s avoiding you? Might not be just about this little game you got going on anymore.”

You slump in your seat, covering your face. “Ugh. This is the worst.”

Jaemin grins, annoyingly pleased. “Told you this was gonna be fun.”

Lisa leans across the table, eyes sharp. “Okay. New plan.”

You groan. “Please stop saying that.”

She ignores you. “If he’s avoiding you, we make it impossible to avoid you. 

You peek between your fingers. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

“Because you should,” Lisa says brightly.

Jaemin raises his drink like a toast. “To yet another plan.”

Lisa clinks her cup with his. “And this one will work.” 

You roll your eyes but lift your cup anyway.

“We gotta stop doing these stupid toasts…” 

The next night, you're sprawled on your bed in nothing but an oversized T-shirt. The sheets are rumpled in just the right way, your lip gloss is freshly applied, and Jaemin’s voice is echoing through your phone speaker like he’s the creative director of a Vogue shoot.

“Okay, chin down a little. Not that much girl, you're not sad, you’re seducing.”

Lisa’s face pops up next to his on the group FaceTime, holding a glass of wine and looking entirely too amused. “Tilt your head. Hair over one shoulder. A little pout, like you just woke up from a wet dream.”

“I hate both of you,” you mutter, adjusting the camera angle again while balancing on one arm. “And why do I have to be on call with you two while doing this?”

“Because you want to win,” Jaemin says, completely unbothered. “Now arch your back just a little more. You’re giving ‘bored in bed,’ not ‘come fuck me.’”

Lisa snorts. “Yeah, you want him to see this and question everything. Like, should I even be looking at these? Should I send some back?”

You snap another photo—lips parted, one hand brushing your thigh, eyes soft but lethal.

Jaemin gasps. “That one. That’s the one.”

“I’m wearing a T-shirt,” you remind him.

Lisa shrugs. “You look hot. That’s what matters. Leave some room for his imagination”

You stare at the collection of photos in your camera roll—cute ones, sexy ones, one where you’re laughing mid-shot but somehow still hot. And one where you’re biting your lip, gaze aimed right at the lens like you’re in some kind of porno.

“Okay,” you whisper, heart thudding. “Now what?”

Lisa smirks. “Now you send it.”

Jaemin grins. “Accidentally.”

You pause. “You guys really think this’ll work?”

“Oh, sweetie,” Jaemin says, sipping his drink like this is theater, “the boy lost all motor function when you wore his hoodie. This’ll kill him.”

Lisa nods, an evil glint in her eye. “We’re not trying to flirt anymore.”

You exhale, hover over the message box, attach the photo—the photo—and type:

meant to send this to Lisa lol ignore 😳🙈

And then…

Send.

Silence.

Lisa covers her mouth. “Oh my god.”

Jaemin wheezes. “He’s either hard or praying.”

You drop back onto your bed, phone clutched to your chest, heart racing. “What do I do now?!”

Lisa grins. “Now we wait.”

You stare at the screen, the message still marked read.

No reply.

Not yet.

But you know he saw it.

Your pulse is thudding in your ears, phone still warm in your hand. Next to you, Lisa is holding her wine like she’s watching a murder mystery unfold in real time.

“He read it two minutes ago,” she whispers, eyes glued to her screen. “Why hasn’t he replied yet??.”

Jaemin leans closer to the camera, eyes wide. “He’s either in shock... or dead.”

“Maybe he dropped his phone,” you say, trying to convince yourself. “Like, physically dropped it from how hot I looked.”

Lisa smirks. “Or maybe he’s pacing around his room right now, fighting demons.”

You bite your lip, the silence growing heavier by the second. Your fingers twitch.

“Should I send something else?” you ask, panicked.

“No!” Lisa and Jaemin say in unison.

Jaemin sits up straighter. “Do not double-text. That gives him the power.”

“But what if he thinks I did it on purpose?” you groan, burying your face in your pillow.

Lisa snorts. “You did do it on purpose.”

“Yeah, but he’s not supposed to know that!”

Another minute passes.

Still nothing.

“Okay,” you mumble, rolling over and staring up at the ceiling. “What if he’s like… genuinely mad or uncomfortable?”

“Y/N,” Jaemin says, tone suddenly more serious, “there is no straight man alive who gets a photo like that from a girl he likes and gets mad.”

You freeze. “Wait. You think he likes me?”

Lisa blinks. “Babe.”

Jaemin throws up his hands. “You wore his hoodie half naked and he hasn’t made eye contact with you since. He kissed you and then ran away like his soul left his body. And now you’ve sent him a ‘mistake’ thirst trap and he’s gone silent.”

Lisa finishes for him. “That man is probably jerking off.”

You don’t get a chance to respond.

Because right then—your phone buzzes.

You nearly drop it, heart leaping into your throat.

Haechan [1:07 a.m.]: lol definitely wasn’t meant for lisa

You sit straight up.

“What?!” Lisa screeches. “Read it out loud. Read it out loud.”

You do.

Jaemin lets out an unholy laugh. “Oh, he’s trying to play it cool. That means he’s LOSING it.”

Another text bubble appears before you can even respond.

The Devil (Haechan): you always look like that in bed or was that just for me?

Your jaw drops. “Oh my god.”

Lisa clutches her imaginary pearls. “Scandalous.”

Jaemin looks like he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment. “HE TOOK THE BAIT.”

Then—another one.

The Devil (Haechan): …not that I’m complaining. just curious.

You stare at the screen, completely stunned, heart racing like you just ran a marathon.

“What do I say?!” you whisper-shout. “What do I even do?!”

Lisa raises her wine like a toast. “You say: ‘depends. want to come see?’”

“Lisa!” you gasp.

You blink at them, brain buzzing, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Y/N: wouldn’t you like to know.

Three dots appear instantly. Then disappear. Then come back again.

You smirk—perfect—until you hear it.

Footsteps.

In the hallway. Getting closer.

Your smirk drops fast.

Lisa’s voice cuts through the speaker, amused. “Wait... is someone coming?”

You sit bolt upright, the bed sheets rustling. “Oh my god. You guys—shut up.”

Jaemin leans into the screen. “Is that—is that Haechan?!”

The footsteps stop. Right outside your door.

Your entire soul leaves your body.

“SHITSHITSHIT,” you whisper, scrambling to throw a blanket over your bare legs, grabbing your phone like it’s evidence in a federal crime. “WHAT DO I DO?!”

Jaemin is laughing way too hard. “Oh no. It’s over for you. You’re cooked.”

A soft knock.

“Y/N?” Haechan’s voice. Muffled. Low.

You freeze.

Lisa mouths say something, but your brain has completely shut down.

You’re still staring at the door like it might disappear if you concentrate hard enough, mouth slightly open, frozen in place. Lisa is frantically whispering, “Say something!” while Jaemin holding his hands over his mouth.

Then—the doorknob turns.

You gasp, diving to grab your blanket tighter, like that’s going to save you. 

The door opens slowly. And there he is.

Haechan. Loose black t-shirt hanging off his frame.Gray sweatpants slung low on his hips. Hair tousled like he just rolled out of bed—or maybe like he’s been running his hands through it since you sent that photo.

He steps into the room, quiet, calm, and annoyingly unreadable.

His eyes flick to your phone, still on FaceTime, where Lisa’s mouth is open in silent panic and Jaemin is making a dramatic “RIP” gesture across his neck.

Then he looks back at you.

And says, voice low, steady, and dangerous:

“Let’s hang up the phone… and see if you’re this confident without them.”

You don’t move.

Your heart is in your throat. Your stomach is in hell. 

Lisa lets out a strangled squeak.

Jaemin straight up falls off-screen, you hear a loud thud, and maybe some screaming.

Your fingers are shaking as you scramble to end the call. You don’t even say goodbye—just one swipe and the screen goes black.

Silence.

Then—footsteps.

Haechan crosses the room, slow and deliberate, until he’s standing at the edge of your bed, looking down at you like he’s trying to decide if he should kiss you or arrest you.

“You really thought I wasn’t gonna say anything?” he murmurs.

You try to form a sentence. A word. A syllable. But all that comes out is a breathless, “Maybe.”

He tilts his head. “You sent me that picture on purpose.”

You open your mouth. Close it again. Then admit, softly: “...Yeah.”

His gaze drops, just for a second, to the oversized T-shirt hanging off your shoulder—the same one from the photo—and he exhales slowly through his nose, like he���s trying really hard not to let something slip.

“You looked like that…” he mutters, half to himself, “and thought I wouldn’t show up?”

You tug the blanket a little higher, heart hammering. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“And you’ve been taunting me,” he fires back, voice husky now.

You go quiet.

Because he’s right.

He leans in just a little just enough to crowd your space, eyes on yours. “You still think it’s a game, Y/N?”

You shake your head slowly. “Not anymore.”

Something flashes in his eyes—something hot and sharp and final.

“Good,” he whispers.

Then he reaches down and pulls the blanket away.

Your breath catches, sharp and immediate, heart thundering in your chest as cool air hits your bare legs. The oversized T-shirt rides dangerously high on your thighs, the very image he saw in the photo now real, right in front of him.

His eyes drag over you slowly, from your curled toes to the hem of the shirt barely covering anything. When his gaze finally meets yours again, it’s darker. Hungrier.

“Did you think I've been avoiding you because I don’t want you?” he asks.

You swallow hard, shaking your head.

“I was trying not to ruin everything,” he mutters, stepping closer to the bed. “Trying to be the good guy. For my friend. For you.”

You blink up at him, breathless. “And now?”

He exhales through his nose, gaze burning. “Now I don’t care.”

The mattress dips slightly as he leans in, one hand braced beside your hip, the other gently brushing your jaw, tilting your chin up until you’re looking straight at him.

“I don’t care that you’re my best friend’s sister,” he whispers, thumb tracing your bottom lip. “I don’t care that this is probably a bad idea.”

You barely get the words out. “Then what do you care about?”

His mouth twitches like he might smile but doesn’t.

“I care that you keep looking at me like that,” he says. “Like you want me to do something.”

Your lips part. “Maybe I do.”

He leans closer, so close his nose brushes yours, and you feel his breath against your lips.

“Tell me to stop.”

You shake your head instantly. “Please don’t.”

And just like that he’s on you.

The kiss is fire. Raw. Messy. The kind that doesn’t ask for permission because it already knows the answer. His hands slide under the hem of the shirt, fingers splaying across your hips like he’s staking a claim.

You arch into him, fingers in his hair, tugging just enough to make him growl softly into your mouth.

He pulls back for just a second, forehead resting against yours.

“This isn’t just about the picture,” he says, voice ragged. “Or the game. This is me wanting you. Every time you walked into a room. Every time you laughed at something stupid. Every time you bent over in those shorts you wear around the house. Every time you licked your lips or touched your hair or did any of those little things that drive me crazy.”

His confession sends a shiver down your spine. You’d never realized he’d been watching so closely—that every glance, every careless touch, or laughed a little too loud, he was memorizing it. Storing it. The thought makes your heart stutter. Because for the first time, you don’t just feel wanted—you feel seen. Completely. 

You reach up, cupping his face in your hands. “I want you too, Haechan,” you whisper.

He closes his eyes briefly, like your words are a relief. Then he’s kissing you again, deeper this time, his body pressing against yours. You can feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, against your chest. Your hands roam over his back, feeling the muscles shift and flex as he moves.

He pushes you gently back onto your bed as his hands start to explore, tracing the curves of your body. You can feel the heat of his touch through the thin fabric of your shirt, his fingers leaving trails of heat in their place. You gasp into his mouth as he shifts, his body settling between your legs.

He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your jaw, your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You tilt your head back, giving him better access, your hands gripping his shoulders. He presses a kiss to your collarbone, then moves lower, his hands pushing up the hem of your shirt to expose more skin.

You lift your arms, allowing him to pull the shirt off completely. He tosses it aside, his eyes roaming over you appreciatively. You feel a flush spread across your cheeks, but you don't look away.

“Are you sure about this? I know you’ve never done this before.” His voice is gentle, but his eyes are intense, searching your face for any sign of doubt. But there’s none. 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” you echo, your voice steady and clear. You reach up, tracing the line of his jaw. “I want this. I want you.”

He lets out a soft breath, leaning down to capture your lips in another hot kiss. This time, it’s slower, more deliberate, as if he’s savoring every moment. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, feeling the weight of his body against yours.

His hands slide down to your waist, gripping gently as he grinds against you, the friction sending sparks through your body. You gasp, breaking the kiss to arch your neck, and he takes the opportunity to trail kisses down your throat. Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close as his mouth explores your collarbone, then lower, until he’s kissing the swell of your breasts.

You feel his hand at your back, unclasping your bra with a flick, and then it’s gone, tossed aside with your shirt. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice husky with need.

You reach for him, pulling him back down to you, your mouths crashing together in a hungry kiss. His hand cups your breasts. His thumb brushes against your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. You gasp into his mouth, arching into his touch. He takes his time, exploring every inch of your skin with his hands and his lips, like he's worshipping you. Like you're the most precious thing he's ever touched.

You tug at his shirt, wanting to feel his skin against yours. He breaks away just long enough to pull it off, then he's back, his bare chest pressing against yours. You can feel his heart racing, matching the rhythm of your own. His hands are everywhere, touching, teasing, driving you wild. You can feel the length of him, hard and ready, pressing against your thigh.

You slip your hands down to the waistband of his sweatpants, pushing them down. He kicks them off, never breaking the kiss. His body is hot and firm against yours, and you can feel the urgency in his movements as he presses against you, only the thin fabric of your shorts and his boxers separating you.

You roll your hips upward to meet his, causing a groan to escape his lips. “Please I need you”

“You’re not ready yet.” He pulls back slightly, his breath ragged. "Not yet," he murmurs.. You're about to protest, but his hand slips between your legs, his fingers tracing the edge of your shorts. Your breath hitches as he slowly pulls them down, his eyes never leaving yours.

He discards the fabric, you feel a flush spread across your skin but you don't look away. His hand slides up your thigh, his touch firm.

"You're trembling," he whispers, his thumb circling your inner thigh.

"Because I want you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

A slow smile spreads across his face, and he leans down, his lips brushing against your stomach, then lower

Then he hooks your thighs over his shoulders, and you gasp as his breath hits the most sensitive part of you. He looks up at you, eyes dark with desire and something softer, more intimate. Like he’s seeing you, really seeing you, for the first time.

“Haechan,” you whisper, your voice shaking slightly. He smiles, slow and reassuring, before lowering his head. The first touch of his tongue is electric, sending a shockwave through your body. You arch off the bed, a gasp escaping your lips. He takes his time, exploring every inch of you with a patience and skill that leaves you breathless.

Each flick of his tongue sends waves of pleasure crashing through you. You tangle your fingers in his hair, holding him close as he brings you higher and higher. Your breath comes in short gasps, your heart pounding in your chest. The sensation builds and builds until it he suddenly pulls away.

“Not yet baby, I have to stretch you out first.”

He moves back up your body, his lips finding yours in a kiss. You can taste yourself on him, and it sends a new wave of heat through you. His hand slips between your legs again, but this time, he gently eases a finger inside you, his thumb circling your clit. You gasp into his mouth, your body tensing slightly.

"Relax," he murmurs against your lips. "I've got you."

You force yourself to breathe, to relax into his touch. He takes his time, stretching you slowly, adding another finger when he feels you're ready. It's intense, almost overwhelming, but his touch is so sure, so gentle, that you can't help but trust him.

His mouth moves to your neck, his kisses are soft and reassuring. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him close as his fingers curl inside you, stroking a spot that makes your breath hitch and your toes curl. Your hips lift to meet his hand, your body craving more of his touch. He responds with a low groan, his eyes darkening as he watches you writhe beneath him.

His fingers curve inside you, pressing against a spot that makes you see stars. You cry out, digging your nails into his back, and he lets out a low chuckle.

"There it is," he murmurs, his voice laced with satisfaction. He continues to work you open, "You're so responsive. You were made for me.”

His thumb circles your clit faster, harder, and you can feel the tension building again, coiling tighter and tighter in your stomach.

"Haechan," you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders. "I need—I need—"

"shh I know baby, I know what you need," he whispers hot against your ear. You’re doing so good for me.”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours. There's a question in his gaze, a silent check-in to make sure you're still with him, still wanting this. You nod, biting your lip, urging him on. He smiles, a soft, genuine smile that makes your heart flutter, and then he's moving again, his body aligning with yours.

He reaches down, grabbing his wallet from his discarded sweatpants and pulls out a condom. You watch as he tears open the packet and rolls it on, your heart pounding. He sees you watching and smiles softly, leaning down to kiss you again, slow and reassuring.

"You're sure?" he whispers against your lips.

"Yes," you breathe out, your voice steady and sure. "I want this, Haechan. I want you."

He nods, pressing his forehead against yours for a moment before pulling back to look into your eyes. He positions himself at your entrance, his breath hitching slightly as he feels your heat. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close, your eyes locked onto his.

He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust. You gasp, your nails digging into his skin as you feel him filling you. It's intense, almost overwhelming, but the look in his eyes—so tender and so focused all at once—keeps you grounded.

"You okay?" he murmurs, his voice strained with restraint.

You nod, lifting your hips to meet his. "Don't stop," you whisper.

He lets out a low groan, his forehead dropping to your neck as he begins to move. Slowly at first, then with more urgency as your body responds to his. You wrap your legs around his waists, your hips lifting to meet each thrust. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that leaves you gasping.

He takes his time, his rhythm steady and controlled, even as you can feel the tension in his body, the restraint it takes to hold back.

"You feel so good, Y/N," he murmurs into your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "So fucking good baby,"

You cling to him, your body moving in sync with his, your breath coming in short gasps. The room is filled with the sounds of your skin connecting, the soft moans and whispered words that pass between you. You can feel the pressure building again, the coil of tension in your stomach tightening with each thrust.

He leans back slightly, changing the angle, and you cry out as he hits that spot again, the one that makes you see stars. He grins.

“There it is again,” he murmurs, his voice laced with satisfaction. He leans down, capturing your lips in a hot, messy kiss as he hits that spot over and over, his body moving against yours in a rhythm that leaves you breathless.

You can feel the sweat on his skin, the tension in his muscles as he holds back, waiting for you. Your body responds to his, your hips meeting each thrust, your breath coming in sync with his. The room is filled with the sounds of your skin connecting, the soft moans and whispered words that pass between you.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours his eyes are dark, pupils blown wide. You can see the question in his eyes, the silent check-in to ensure you're still with him, still wanting this. You nod, biting your lip, urging him on.

“Fuckk I’m gonna—” Your body shakes, “Mmm gonna cum.”

He lets out a low groan, his hips moving faster. "Me too, baby. Fuck me too."

Your breath hitches, your body tensing as the wave of pleasure crashes over you. You cry out, your nails gripping the sheets, your body convulsing around him. He buries his face in your neck, his body shaking with his own release as he follows you over the edge.

The room is filled with the sound of your ragged breaths, your bodies slick with sweat as you cling to each other. He stays there, buried inside you, his heart pounding against yours as you both come down from the high.

He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours. There's a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability that takes your breath away. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, so gentle and so tender that it makes your heart ache. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. He responds instantly, his body relaxing into yours, his hands gently stroking your sides. It's a stark contrast to the urgency of moments before, but it feels just as right, just as perfect.

As the kiss slows, he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. "You okay?" he murmurs, his voice soft and gentle.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "More than okay."

He grins, rolling off you gently and disposing of the condom before pulling you into his arms. You rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as it slows to a steady rhythm. His fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, sending shivers down your spine.

.

.

.

You’re lying tangled in sheets, breath still uneven, heart still racing, a ridiculous smile tugging at your lips.

“So like,” you murmur, turning to him with a smug little smirk, “I totally won.”

Haechan lets out a low laugh beside you, one arm slung over his eyes like he’s exhausted—but still amused. “You think you won?”

You prop yourself up on your elbow, hair a mess and eyes gleaming. “Uh, yeah. I was the one who wanted to lose my virginity. I did. Game over. I win.”

He turns his head toward you, a lazy, teasing grin spreading across his face. “Interesting logic.”

“It’s not logic, it’s fact,” you shoot back, poking his chest. “I reached my goal. Mission accomplished. Trophy secured.”

Haechan hums thoughtfully, eyes scanning your face. “Except… I’m the one who had the key to your little chastity belt the whole time.”

You stare at him for a moment—then snort. “Oh my god. You did not just say that.”

“I did,” he says proudly, hand sliding over your hip. “So really… if you think about it I won...”

You roll your eyes, trying not to laugh. “You’re insufferable, that doesn't even make sense.”

“And yet,” he says, tugging you closer with a smirk, “you still lost. To me, this definitely feels like a win.”

You huff dramatically, curling into him anyway. “Whatever. It was a mutual win.”

He kisses the top of your head. “Fine. Shared victory.”

“…But if we really think about it I won,” you add, grinning.

He groans. “God, help me.”

Dream/General Taglist: @haechansbbg @johnnysuhbmarine @lostinneocity @talkingsaxy @naqkja @anaisalive @chenlesfeetpic @vampgege @jaeminnanaaa17 @wookiebearz @zen00016 @haolovre

Interacted with preview: @sundamariis @nah140508 @luverboyhyuck @lovelyannoyingcher @yuthabitz @httpsxnox @markiesfatbooty @nineooooo @gomdoleemyson @smwhrinthehaze @ambi01 @zhapire @ncitysblog @grimlinshere @sunflowerhae @ohmysion @spacejip @bookiebears-stuff @next-read-please @caaally @jaeminnanaaa17

[dozenssporks]

it's hard to find more stories with protagonists like Vash because most similar ones have a crucial difference: age.

Protagonists that act like Vash (loud, goofy, fun) are usually young, naive, intense. Full of grand resolve. Almost inevitably they'll end up in a crisis of disillusionment, a loss of innocence, as they gain life experience and begin to understand the complexities of the world. There are a lot of coming of age themes. Journey of discovery.

Vash has already passed that phase. He's been hurt, he's been disillusioned, betrayed, wronged, humiliated. In the present day of the story when things don't play out according to his ideals he doesn't experience a crisis of belief, he just wearily adds it to the pile of his perceived failures that he carries with him. Yes, it hurts, but in the end it's just another scar and he's used to those.

He's used to all this.

When he's absolute forced into a conflict of ideals (looking at you Legato) it breaks him. And I don't think he really grows from the experience. Not like a young protagonist. I don't think July or anything else made him resolve to do better in some deep profound way. He just ends up gritting his teeth and getting back to what he was doing before. Just now with extra Guilt(TM).

Not that he doesn't grow and change at all. It's just fundamentally different from a teenage character who's always having huge life-changing revelations and learning important lessons.

When the plot hits Vash it's not about him learning, it's about him planting his feet and refusing to budge for any reason. The only way to move him is to break him. And after he breaks he pieces himself back together and returns to stand in the very same spot to do it all over again.

With a goofy gin on his face.

Which is basically the end of the manga, now I come to think of it.

(usual disclaimer: this is me thinking out loud and trying to sort out my vague ideas and order them into some form of coherent statement. Your mileage may vary about my success)

[erwinsvow]

Pregnant with pope’s baby after a month of dating?! Gorlllllll I want it

What’s wrong with me??

i need to elaborate on this after my exam tm but like. oh my god. the ideas are just ideaing so good for this plot. first of all being so shaky and scared about telling him because he literally has only known you a few months and you're knocked up and he probably thinks you're trying to trap him or something and you don't even know how to get the words out. just not ready to be a mom and not sure if he even wants kids or will want you after this—though you can't imagine him being mean to you. he's never been anything even close to the realm of mean to you. and you try to imagine his reaction and what you'll say if he's upset and you can't think of anything either. so you tell him and start crying from the nerves and the hormones and telling him you're sorry and he's doing that think where he just stares and doesn't say anything but you really need him to say something this time. and then i said this once before but it's we're having a baby? and normally i'd say it would be realllyyy fun to explore the non-married having a baby story like it would be so cute and doing all these firsts quickly like moving in together and trying to figure out how to live together and adjust to each other but. i just don't think it would be like that!!!! this is andrew we are talking about. imagined a whole life with you in his head that he thought, if anything, you might not want to be a part of the longer you spend with him. goes dizzy when he thinks of how you're carrying his baby. that you will always be connected to him because of the baby. that you two made that baby together. especially as you fill out and get more hormonal and clingier and he's just... very happy. the way you two act people would think you've been together years and years. it still comes out in certain ways—he barely sleeps and you can only take so many nature documentaries. you want yellow or green for the nursery but he says something about blue or pink. in the very beginning right after you tell him, he goes to city hall to get a marriage license and you have to have a serious talk about it (though he wins that conversation—babies need a stable household with two parents under the same roof with the same last name. what are you supposed to do? you agree with him and you're hormonal and very much in love with the father of your baby and so you jump into a decision that maybe should have been made in the future, but, oh well. love makes you do crazy things.) and well, you don't get the chance to have a flashy engagement ring because you were never actually a fiancee—you made the jump from girlfriend to wife overnight. you move to a nicer place where he paints the nursery (yellow! you won that argument at least) and doesn't let you help. goes to one of those pregnancy classes with you but you two don't make it to the third class—they keep asking the husbands and wives to talk about each other and the things the other one loves to keep a strong connection after the baby comes or whatever and you and andrew don't know that much about each other. but you both learn, that's what matters. and guess what!!!! its twins

[sp0o0kylights]

Part one here:: link

"oh i dunno if Im going to finish this" I say, right before the plot ate me. anyway this was too big to post in full to tumblr. If you want the full, completed fic (with bonus Fun Fic Facts tm) it is finished and up on A03 here:: link

TW vomiting, drug use

Eddie is good.

Eddie is kind.

Eddie does not run over Henderson’s bike, laying haphazardly in Harrington’s pristine driveway, even if it would make him feel better. 

He does slam his van into park with enough force to make the brakes squeal, which he decides is an excellent way to announce his appearance to the entire neighborhood. 

It’s a move he’s pulled countless times. Charging in and making a scene meant people forgot that he couldn’t actually fight for shit, and equally, took their attention off whatever their original target was.

Which in this case, was Eddie’s too fucking nice freshman. 

The rage pulsing through him is white hot and all encompassing, and it’ll get him through a lot--but the switchblade he carries ensures everyone’s safety in these little matters. 

It makes him brave.

Braver than he should be really, but Eddie spent the entire drive over here chain smoking out the window while prepping for this little confrontation and the more he’d thought it all over, the madder he got.

That a washed up jock thought he could still take advantage of actual children. 

Nevermind Hellfire, or Henderson ditching, or Sinclaire’s ranting. 

This was about their relationship with Harrington. 

A picture has been building in Eddie’s head. One that’s only gotten clearer after today, and one he will be putting an end to, because he doesn’t believe for a second Harrington has a headache. 

Henderson might always be the smartest person in the room, but he’s dumb as hell socially. Too honest, too blunt, and frankly, too goodhearted. 

That makes him easy to take advantage of. 

Sinclair was worse--the guy was too easy to guilt trip. 

It was a noted issue with his ranger, and apparently, himself, and Eddie could easily see how Harrington could have twisted the idea of some ridiculous life-debt to keep Lucas in his clutches.  

Even Mayfield, Billy Hargrove’s former stepsister, was wrapped up in Harrington enough to have a go at her own friends over him! 

She wasn’t even one of his flock, but Eddie was her neighbor. Saw how her mom was barely home. How she was practically raising herself, head down, doing her best not to ever let people see her cry. 

Yeah.

Wouldn’t exactly be difficult for a guy like Steve Harrington to swoop in and take advantage there. 

Wheeler clearly wasn’t a fan and Eddie can only come up with reason after reason as to why--King Jackass had the poor kid’s entire friend group under some kind of--of sick spell.

Well. 

Eddie was here to break it. 

Even if it meant storming into the King’s castle by himself and calling him out on his shit. 

Nobody fucked with his people. Especially not douchebag, washed up jocks. 

He’s up to Harringotn’s ridiculous double doors in a flash, banging hard on the wood with a closed fist, positively fuming and uncaring of who sees. 

Surprise, surprise, it’s Henderson who opens it.

“Eddie?” He says, blinking up at him like he’s not sure of what he’s seeing.  “What are you--hey!” 

Hey, because Eddie’s pushed past him, storming into the house. 

“This has gone on long enough.” He announces, loud as he ever has been. “Where the hell’s Harrington?”

Henderson, frustratingly, does not weep or throw his hands up in celebration of Eddie’s incoming rescue. 

Which is fine--Eddie hasn’t broken the spell yet.

Unfortunately he is bitching, in that infamously annoying tone of his.

“Dude, shut up, Steve’s pills really only work for like, an hour--” 

“Fantastic, he’ll be clear headed for our little talk.” Eddie tells him, head sweeping left and  right as he looks for his target. He’s been in Casa de Harrington a few times before to deal, but it was always at night.

He can now say with perfect honesty that the place looks worse in the bright light of the day. 

“Was that Eddie?” Sinclair calls, and Eddie orients towards him instantly, storming down the hall. 

It doesn’t take long to find the kid. 

 Lucas is standing in a kitchen larger than Eddie’s entire trailer, a too-large pink apron drowning his frame. 

He turns, revealing the front of the thing has  ‘Whisk Taker’ written on it in syrupy white font. 

(Baking puns. Disgusting.) 

“Are you cooking?” Eddie accuses with a sneer, though his disgust isn’t aimed at the freshmen. 

This is exactly what he was afraid of finding. 

Lucas just stares at him. “Uh--yeah?” 

“What did I say about too many people, Munson?” Mayfrield spits angrily. It takes a second to locate her--the kitchen is enormous and far too white--but eventually Eddie realizes she’s perched up on a counter next to the largest sink he’s ever seen. 

For a second, Eddie thinks that’s just where she’s chosen to sit. Then she moves, and he realizes she’s washing and drying a series of water bottles. 

He never in his life thought he’d witness Maxine Mayfield willingly do someone else's dishes. 

“Someone get me Harrington.” He’s not trying for anything dramatic, but his voice must sound dangerous because all three freshmen stop dead, eyes wide as if he's just spoken in tongues.

He zeroes in on Dustin with a glare. “Now.”

Who huffs, throwing his hands up in the air like Eddie’s the one being unreasonable here. 

“Absolutely not--we just got Steve to sit down. He’s been following me around the house insisting I’m causing more problems than I’m fixing!”

“Because you are.” Steve says, voice dripping with calm condescension as he appears like a wraith in the doorway. “And I know you’re all into the whole dungeon game, Munson, but this is a little dramatic, even for you.”

Eddie whirls to face him, already vibrating with fury. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from the guy who’s treating them like his personal minions. What’s next, Harrington? Gonna make them re-shingle the roof? Paint your house? Wax your car?”

Steve gives him a flat, almost disbelieving stare. “Do you seriously think I had Henderson miss your game just so I could lounge around while he’s doing chores?”

Eddie doesn’t bite, too busy unloading. “Oh we can both see it’s more than that.”

He doesn’t notice the way Steve’s jaw tenses, or how his hand creeps up to the side of his head, rubbing at his temple. 

“Anything else you want done, Harrington? Maybe make ‘em mow the lawn?” Eddie sneers. “Or teach ‘em to plump your pillows just the way you like—”

Steve finally snaps, pushing himself upright. “You know what Munson, you're right,” he says, voice tight with barely-contained frustration. “I’m clearly a terrible person they need to be rescued from so--”  

He cuts himself off with a hiss,  eyes squeezing shut as his hand goes to the side of his head, and spits out his next words like they hurt. 

“You can play the good guy and take them all home.” 

Dustin, with an exasperated sigh, steps between them. “No,” he tells Steve sternly, as if managing an unruly child, before spinning on his heel to say the exact same thing, in the exact same tone--to Eddie. 

(Jackass freshman can’t even appreciate when they’re being actively rescued!) 

“Eddie, I promise that this isn’t what it looks like.” 

For anyone else it would sound like a plea, but Henderosn somehow makes it condescending.

“We can explain, alright?” Dustin says, raising his hands as though coaxing a skittish animal. “Will you let us explain? Please?”

Eddie glowers. 

“You clearly do not, in fact, know what this looks like. Because if you did,” 

Eddie can make himself menacing and he does so now, pulling on every single year of drama and theatrics and lying to cops he’s had, pushing his shoulders back and making his body tall.

“You would know that it looks like a guy who peaked in high school is forcing a bunch of fourteen year olds to do his bidding.” 

He takes an aggressive step towards Steve, boots thunking hard on the floor. “And that isn’t happening on my watch.” 

“Aren’t you like an extra super senior?” Mayfield says, arms crossed over her chest. 

“Irrelevant!” Eddie swats the air in her direction, as if to physically bat away her words. “I’m still in high school and I’m not emotionally blackmailing a bunch of kids into waiting on me hand and foot while I fake a headache!” 

“Oh ew.” Max’s nose scrunches in disgust, a mixture of disbelief and fury warring on her face. “That is not what’s happening here.” 

“Were you even listening earlier?!” Lucas says, like he can’t quite believe Eddie is this dumb. 

(His character will be the next to die, so Eddie swears.) 

“I did.” Eddie points a finger at him, triumphant. “I heard all about how he’s tricked you into thinking you owe him a life-debt!”

“A what?” Harrington’s squinting, like he’s struggling to follow along what is happening. It’s a halfway decent sick act, Eddie will give it to him, but he knows the facade will drop in a moment. 

As soon as the asshole loses his temper and decides to try and throw Eddie out, he’ll switch from the Poor Me act into the usual pompous, rich dick on a rampage persona. 

“How he’s saved you all, convinced you and Henderson that you’re in debt to him.” 

“Could we just---please stop yelling?” Steve says in the background, heel pressing hard against his eyes. 

Then winces like his own voice hurts his head.

“What the hell, Eddie?!” Dustin’s cut across the room, stepping in between the two older teens. “Where did this even come from!?” 

“Guys.” 

“The mouths of babes, Henderson. Which you would know if you witnessed Sinclair’s rant instead of missing out because King Dickhead demanded your presence at his castle!” 

“Guys.” Steve’s voice abruptly takes on a weird tone, and it’s only Mayfield’s eyes popping wide that has Eddie realizing something is wrong--right before Harrington shoots past him, noisily hurling in the sink.

“Gross!” Max shrieks, throwing herself off the counter. 

Harrington aims a shaky middle finger in her direction. 

“I just washed those bottles Steve, I'm not washing them again!” Mayfield rants, but she’s not fooling anyone. Not with the way she’s already edging back towards him, like she’s afraid he might fall over. 

(Worse, like she might try to catch him, as if Harrington’s broad, barbarian-like shoulders wouldn’t flatten her instantly.) 

“Al-’right.” Harrington slurs a moment later, still panting over the sink. “Everyone--out. Now.” 

“Steve--” 

“Nope. Making it worse. Out.” 

He manages to stand and turn, leaning hard against the counter and for the first time since this all started, Eddie looks at him. 

Properly, and not through the lens of righteous fury. 

Harrington’s pale.

The shirt he’s wearing is stained with sweat marks, his sweatpants clearly old and worn for comfort rather than style. 

His hair…

Eddie has never seen Harrington without his infamously perfect hairdo, and the messy, slick waves plastered to his forehead is more of a shock then him vomiting in the sink. 

He’s got his hands pressed hard against his eyes again, and there’s a slight tremble in his fingers that belay he’s likely in a lot more pain than he’s letting on.

In short, Harrington looks like absolute shit, and Eddie, maybe, possibly, the tiniest bit believes he actually has a migraine. 

Well, it was that or he was really committed to the bit… 

The tense silence that has befallen them all is ruined when Harrington makes a ‘hurk.’ noise.

“I’m going to throw up again.” He decides after a moment of contemplation, before whipping back around to the sink and doing just that. 

“Steve’s right.” Mayfield decides suddenly, over all the nasty noises. “We should leave.” 

“I’m almost done cooking!” Sinclair protests, as if Harrington isn’t presently throwing up the contents of his stomach. 

“You’re almost done burning things, you mean.” Max mutters, but her words can’t hide the blatant concern written all over his face. “I don’t think he’s going to keep anything down.” 

“He needs us to finish what we started.” Dustin argues passionately. “You know how bad he gets, he’s not gonna be able to get up in an hour!” 

(A clear exaggeration, because Harrington looks like he’s not gonna make it across the kitchen unassisted.) 

“What I need is for everyone to stop talking so fucking loud.” Harrington moans, before appearing to give up on life entirely. 

He sort of sags against the counter, resting his head against his arms while bent double, as if that would help things. 

It was at this point that Eddie had the most unfortunate realization that he might be the asshole here. 

Because Harrington looks rough--and if he actually does in fact, have a migraine, then Eddie has done nothing but make it worse.

(Very likely the freshmen have as well, given Dustin is incapable of talking in anything other than a loud yell, and the smell of Lucas’s burnt food has permeated the air.

Mayfield seemed to have accomplished a small amount of actual work, at least.

…If Harrington managed to miss throwing up on the water bottles.) 

“Look,” Harrington interrupts with an audible, thick swallow.“You guys did great, and I appreciate the uh, help. I’m fine, I promise, you can all go home. Munson,” 

He doesn’t turn, but his voice does change into something that’s half pleading, half demanding.

“Can we please fight about this tomorrow? Or next week?” 

“No fighting!” Dustin shrieks, which has the effect of making Harrington cringe into the counter--and that is what finally kicks Eddie over.

Bows to the instincts that now want to wrap up Harrington in a blanket over the ones that want to strangle him, (though both are very much at odds in his head with each other.)

“We can put a pin in it.” He says, all the venom dropping out of his voice,  already knowing what’s going to happen next and hating himself for it. 

Even at his absolute worst, Eddie has never been able to resist trying to fix a problem he’s been presented with--or turn down someone who needs help.

Harrington, clearly, needs help. 

“You heard him.” He tells his freshman, then immediately holds up a hand when all three try to protest at once. 

“Ah-ah, inside voices.” He himself uses a harsh whisper, and then has to fight not to laugh aloud when all three abruptly eye him like he’s lost his head.

He probably has.

(Fucking King Steve.

No one who is that much of a douchebag should ever look that pathetic without deserving it, it’s against the Munson doctrine.) 

“Henderson, have you done anything actually useful while you’ve been here? Like, say, getting a warm washcloth?” 

“I--oh.” Dustin’s on the defense instantly, but for once actually listens before he finishes his sentence. “Uh. No.”

“Go do that then.” Eddie instructs, making sure to keep his voice quiet and even. 

“Sinclair, toss out the eggs, then take the garbage out so it’ll stop stinking up the place. Mayfield, see if these windows open. Harrington…” 

He pauses, watching as Harrington tries to gather himself, moving slowly and deliberately like even breathing hurts. His entire appearance is grating Eddie’s nerves—not because he doesn’t care, but because he does, and that’s infuriating. 

“Go lay down, man.” He finishes lamely. 

He expects the freshmen to listen to him. Knows they will, in his heart of hearts, even if they bitch back, because that’s just how things are when he decides to take charge. So few people truly want to, that others are often relieved when he does. 

Steve Harrington is not most people.

If he argues, he could very well tip things out of control again, which means Eddie is likely going to have to force the trio of fourteen year olds out of the house. 

Henderson and Sinclair he can manage but Mayfield…

Thankfully, Steve pushes off the counter with a groan, muttering something under his breath, but slowly making his way toward the couch without any other protest. 

The freshmen exchange glances, all of them looking just as unsure as Eddie feels. Like they’re waiting for instructions now that their default leader is down for the count.

He clears his throat pointedly. 

“Hello? Did I not give you marching orders?” He bats his hands at them. “Go march!” 

Mayfield mutters something that sounds an awful lot like “hypocrite” but thankfully, does as asked. 

“Are you gonna give us a ride home?” Henderson asks as he finally starts moving around--hopefully to get a damn washcloth. 

“You got yourself here, you can get yourself home.” Eddie scoffs back, taking stock of Harrington’s kitchen. 

He eyes the line of pain pills laid out on the counter, quickly noting not one of them is anything that would help with a sneeze let alone a migraine. 

Typical. 

“Why not?” Dustin disappeared down a hallway, but the fact Eddie can still hear him plain as day speaks to his ability to keep quiet. “You have your van, don’t you?” 

“Because I’m not leaving when you three are leaving.” 

It’s an absentminded comment, given his mind is elsewhere. 

Weed may be his bread and butter but he does have a handful of more serious things on offer. 

Of those things, one or two have some fun little unexpected side effects, and if Eddie recalls Rick’s yapping right, one of said things was stopping headaches. 

Said magic little mushrooms might even be in a pocket or two, here, if he remembers right… 

“Wait, you're staying here?” Lucas protests, far too loudly. 

"Ssszzhh!" Eddie hisses, drawing out the sound dramatically, mostly for the sake of cutting off whatever protests were coming his way. 

“No arguing. Your beloved King clearly needs a nap, and that means you’re all off duty. Unless," he adds with a raised eyebrow, "you intend to watch him sleep?"

Dustin looks torn, but mutters a quiet, "No," his eyes shifting sideways like he's weighing the logic.

"Good. Then if you’re all finished…?”

He waits for the nods he knows are coming. 

“Excellent. Now leave." Eddie says, pointing towards the door. 

They hesitate for a second, but then finally begin to shuffle out, the door clicking quietly behind them. 

And just like that, Eddie’s left standing there, watching Steve breathe shallowly on the couch--with a washrag over his eyes.

(At least Dustin managed that.) 

He could leave now. 

Should leave, really. Giving out drugs for free is not exactly a good business move and Steve will no doubt sleep the headache off without it. But Eddie’s feet don't seem to agree with him, rooted in place as his gaze lingers on the sharp line of Steve's jaw, the slight twitch of his brow every time a muscle aches.

Feels the pull, deep in his gut, to provide the relief he knows he can give. 

Before he knows what’s happening, he’s moving, crossing the room toward him.

“Munson?” Harrington squints up at him as he registers his presence, washcloth nudged upwards by shaky fingers. “Why’r you still ‘ere?” 

“Because I’m stupid.” Eddie mutters, right before realizing he actually said that outloud. 

“What?” 

Thank God for Harrington’s headache. 

“You look terrible, man.”  Eddie says slightly louder. “That hair of yours is so flat I think your crown’s gonna fall right off.” 

He’d meant it as a joke--spoke it like one, but it seems to snap Harrington out of his pity party. 

The sigh that blasts out of him is a whole body affair, and gets his feelings across better than his words do. “I get it. You thought this was something else and it wasn’t. Not the first time that’s happened.” 

He turns, cheek scraping against the fabric of his shirt, red rimmed eyes squinting against the light to look at Eddie. 

“You got your laugh in, so you can go.” 

There’s defeat in his voice. Like he’s accepted this might as well have happened. 

(Like he’s just as beaten down as anyone Eddie has ever saved.) 

“I didn’t stick around to laugh.” Eddie keeps his voice soft, and that somehow, makes the next part easier to say.  

“I honestly thought you were messing around with Henderson and Sinclair, and I uh, I’m used to being the only person who gives a shit. When that kind of thing happens.” 

Harrington grimaces. 

“It’s okay.” he mutters, eyes sliding closed once more. “Most people still think I’m an asshole.”

His tone has gone odd again, wrecked and rasping, migraine clearly trumping whatever strong feelings he had on the matter. 

And the stupid thing was, Harrington himself was never really an asshole. 

Sure he went along with the assholes, and he definitely egged them on if not outright participated in some of the lower tier shitty activities, but he wasn’t the guy slamming people into lockers. 

(Eddie, in fact, has a hazy memory of Steve telling off Hagan for doing said locker slamming.) 

It didn’t make him a good guy--he’d had slung too many insults around to get that label--but in the rankings of assholery, his was of the average variety. 

Which means that Eddie cannot logic himself out of his own stupid desire to help.

Even if he really, really wants to.

“Yeah well, even assholes need assistance sometimes, and since I kicked your help out, it’s on to make up for it.” 

“No offense,” Steve slurs tiredly, “but I don’t think you’re any quieter than Dustin.” 

A smile ghosts over Eddie’s face. 

“I live in a tiny ass trailer, Harrington. Trust me,  I know how to be quiet. I simply choose not to be.” He moves, slow and careful, until he’s seated next to the fallen King on his stupidly huge (and very uncomfortable) couch. 

Steve’s eye follows him over, staring up as he white knuckles his sweatpants, washrag sitting crooked on his forehead. 

“I’m not sure I’m not gonna throw up again.” He admits after a moment. 

“And that right there is one of the things I can help with. Provided,” Eddie waggles his eyebrows, “that you don’t mind taking a more recreational route for your recovery?” 

“....are you offering me drugs?” 

“I am indeed.” Eddie confirms with a real smile, plucking the offending baggie out of a pocket. 

“You ever done shrooms, your majesty?” 

Steve huffs a quiet noise that might have been a snort, had he put any effort behind it. 

“How is that going to help?” 

“Be-cauuuuuse,” Eddie draws the words out, still a showman even if he is doing his level best to talk as quietly as possible, “shrooms are what we call a psychedelic, and those are pretty well known among certain circles as the headache healer.” 

Provided one took the medicinal amount and not the down-the-rabbit-hole amount. 

Harrington’s eyes are back open, only this time they’re looking at Eddie’s fingers the same way a dog looks at a nail trimmer: concerned and not entirely unsure it wasn’t going to bite him. 

“I’m not…” He cuts himself off, frowning. 

“You’ve bought plenty of my weed, Harrington. Trust me this isn’t any different.” Eddie tells him. 

Isn’t offended in the slightest--this reaction is pretty typical for people who have only smoked the ganja. 

Even the ones who asked to try for something with a little more ‘umph.’ 

“S’not that.”Steve admits quietly. “I uh. Had a bad trip. While back.” 

“Ah, gunshy.” Eddie says it without a lick of judgment, because Eddie’s been there.

Or rather in the shower, at two am because he accidentally spilled LSD on his hand and promptly tripped balls for 48 hours after.  

 “I’ll hang around a bit, if you like.” He offers casually. “Make sure things don’t go sideways.”

He gets another huff-snort as Harrington’s watery eyes return their attention to him. 

“And what are you going to do if they do go sideways?”

“Put you back together again.”  

Eddie knows his grin is crooked, but can’t help it. He’s thinking about Humpty Dumpty and the King’s Men.  

Somehow he doesn’t see Steve Harrington cracking that easily—at least, not without putting up a good fight—but drugs did worse things to better people. 

“It really helps?” Steve asks, voice quiet. Doubtful.

Eddie presses his hands to his chest. “Scouts honor.”

“You were not a boy scout.” Steve tells him, but he’s struggling to sit up anyway, looking game. 

“Alright, so how do I do this?” He asks, though he’s already halfway down again, propped up on his elbows.

“First, you lay back down, and I’ll brew it into tea,” Eddie explains. 

“Tea?”

“Well, you could eat them straight, but I don’t think they’d taste too great. Not that I wouldn’t mind watching you try.”

Steve scowls. “Sadist.”

“Guilty,” Eddie replies, biting back the urge to sing-song it, keeping his voice down and steady. “Just a heads-up: they kick in fast, but I’ll go light on you—nothing like the ‘fun’ dose for the usual crowd.”

Which is how he ends up back in the kitchen, this time making tea and humming to himself, before offering the final brewed concoction to Harrington.

Who downs it like a shot, because he’s a fucking frat-bro at heart. 

“I didn’t find a teacup for you to do that.” 

Between a full-body shudder and a dramatic grimace, Steve chokes out “Not gonna lie I didn’t think we owned a teacup.” 

“What, do you think I just have them in my van?”

“Honestly? Yeah.” 

Which is kind of hysterical, and something Eddie may be doing--not that he’s telling Harrington that. 

“And now we wait!” He announces instead of rambling about teacups, nearly clapping his hands together before he remembers the migraine Steve is soldiering through with surprising grit. 

Eddie himself would have turned into a whiny mess, so he can’t help but admire the guy’s restraint.

“Waiting to see if I hurl again, you mean?” Steve mutters, flopping backward onto the couch. “That tasted like battery acid.”

“Think it’s coming back up?”

“No clue.”

They sit in silence for a second, then Eddie pokes, “Maybe it’s best if you crash in your room, man. You look like death warmed over, and this couch sucks.” 

An understatement, if there ever was one. The fucking thing didn’t seem to be made for people to actually sit on. 

Reluctantly, Steve pulls himself up, heading toward his room. Eddie tags along, snarky grin covering the way he holds his hands out in case the jock ahead of him slips on the stairs and takes them both out. 

(Unlike Mayfield, Eddie does not pretend Steve doesn’t outclass him weight wise. The man was built like a brickhouse, and he has to fight to keep his eyes up toward Steve’s hair instead of on his ass.) 

Thankfully, he’s saved from all R-rated thoughts by the sheer horror of Harrington’s bedroom. 

“Harrington, I’ve found the source of all your migraines.” Eddie tells him, tone as serious as he’s ever been.

“Ha-ha.” Steve deadpans, stepping into his plaid fucking room. 

“I’m not kidding, I’m getting a headache and I’ve been here less than five seconds.” 

The whole place truly is a nightmare--like someone took one of those plaid hunting jackets and themed an entire room around it. 

Fucking rich people. 

“Trust me, it’s not the wallpaper.” 

“Given how you’re weaving on your feet, I think it’s safe to say I don’t trust you at all.” Eddie tells him, half helping half dragging Steve towards the bed. 

It’s a comfy looking thing and Harrington falls into it gratefully, immediately crawling under the covers. 

“You know where to find me?” Eddie asks him, refusing to think Harrington snuggling up in his bed is something cute. 

“Yeah?”

“Good. Hit me up next time your head gets bad. I’ll make sure to keep some of this,” He shakes the little baggie, “on hand.” 

Steve’s pulled the covers all the way up past his chin, but he moves it down a little to properly cock an eye at Eddie. 

“Dare I ask what you're gonna charge for that?”

“Let’s call it a fair trade for all those times you’ve driven the freshman home from Hellfire.” 

If Steve even recalls this conversation, that is. Eddie hadn’t exactly given him the “fun” kind of dose, but then, he himself has never tested out what dose is needed to cure headaches rather than simply having  fun destroying one's own ego. 

He supposes that’s something he and Harrington both will have to test, between them--because Eddie meant it when he offered the drugs for free.

No one deserves to suffer from the kind of migraine Harrington clearly had. 

“Think you’re good to drop off.” Eddie tells him, after making sure Steve is happily content in his bed. 

Checks his watch to make sure enough time has passed to safely call it, before beginning to attempt his way out of Steve’s god-awful bedroom. 

Which of course, is when Harrington reaches out, looping his fingers around Eddie’s wrist. 

It freezes him in place. 

In a moment that is so utterly selfish and stupid that Eddie will loudly insist it was a hallucination should Harrington ever dare ask about it, he turns his palm and moves so that he’s clasping Steve’s fingers with his own. 

“Thanks. For all this.” Steve whispers, as they hold hands for a moment. 

Eddie squeezes his fingers against the younger man’s before he moves to make his retreat, flashing a peace sign over his shoulder as he goes.  

“Anytime, big boy.” 

Anytime. 

xxx

The thing no one tells you about creating a doctrine, is that at some point or another, someone’s going to hold you to it. 

In Eddie’s case it’s four very pissed off teenagers.

He has a gold medal in mental gymnastics and a silver in denial. Left on his own devices he could easily excuse everything that happened yesterday. 

Reclassify the fallen King as pathetic, and the kids' weird loyalty to him as a holdover from his babysitting days. 

Blame their nosy-ness on them being involved in Harrington’s life, and happily go back to mocking their relationship with renewed vigor because now he’s not going to handwave their behavior as being afraid of Harrington. 

Nope, they clearly and willingly, have attached themselves to the King, which means Eddie gets to make fun of them for life. 

Pity they don’t leave Eddie to his own devices. 

In fact, the little shits hit him up first thing in the morning, early enough that he's’ a little suspicious that the boys slept over at Max’s trailer. 

“We’re not done talking about Steve.” Mayfield tells him and given the determined (Henderson) angry (Sinclair) and put out (Wheeler Jr.) faces glaring at him from over her shoulder, Eddie figures his chances for getting out of this conversation are slim to none.

“Good morning to you too.” He snarks, voice gravel-deep with sleep. “What do you little shits want?”

“I literally just said.” Max rolls her eyes so hard he thinks about commenting that they may stick back there, only to decide that makes him sound too much like a teacher for his liking. 

(Besides if they get stuck, he’ll have an excuse to whack her on the back of her head without getting murdered for it.

…well. 

An attempt at an excuse, anyway.) 

“And who says I have anything I want to talk about?” He fires back, leaning a shoulder against the old metal doorframe. 

Just because he understood what they wanted didn’t mean he was going to make it easy. 

“Would you just let us in?” 

“No.” 

“Eddie.” Dustin whines, and Eddie redirects his frown his way. “Come on.” 

“Well I suppose if you say it that way,” Eddie hums thoughtfully. “No.” 

“Steve’s sick, you asswipe.” Max snaps angrily. 

“I know,” He volleys back, brightly sarcastic. “I saw him yesterday.”

Because it’s Mayfield, she matches him tit for tat, a mimicry of his sarcastic drawl entering her voice. “Good! You get to see him today too.”

And just like that their little ambush makes sense.

(He’s got to find a new way to get the damn kids to fear him, clearly his usual menacingness  just isn’t cutting it anymore.) 

“And why would I do that?” 

He’s done his good deed. He helped Harrington out, and even offered free drugs to help him get his migraines under control. 

Checking up on the guy was overkill.  

“We were gonna do it, but someone let it slip that Steve was sick.” A cutting glance is given to Henderson, who makes a face but otherwise holds his ground. 

“And his mom called everyone else's parents with instructions that we leave him alone until he feels better.”  

“So now if we go over there,” Sinclair finishes for his girlfriend, “we get grounded.” 

Which neatly answers every question that just popped into Eddie’s head. 

The threat makes sense for the boys--Eddie’s met Claudia Henderson and though she has that bubbly, easy to confuse nature of suburbanites everywhere, there was an undercurrent in her eyes of someone who knew more than she was letting on. 

Or perhaps, someone who simply knew what they wanted, and was happy to settle and wait for it. 

 Likewise the Sinclair and Wheeler parental units seem to want to keep in her--and Steve’s, no doubt, given he carts their kids around--good graces. 

Given Mayfield’s mom wasn’t even home last night, her participation in this farce does not make sense and Eddie narrows his eyes at her in warning. 

“I fail to see how this is my problem.” He says instead of directly calling her out.

She knows he knows, and he’s smart enough to figure out how to relay that without saying it directly. 

(An action taken out of respect for surviving a bad home life, and absolutely not because he’s terrified she’ll crawl through his window to enact revenge in the middle of the night.) 

“It’s your problem because you owe him one.” she tells him firmly. “And us.”

Oh no he does not. 

“How so?” He challenges with a snorted laugh. 

“You did kind of storm into his house and yell a lot.” Sinclair points out. He’s doing better at speaking up, Eddie realizes with a twisted sense of pride and dread. 

Not quite so easy to steamroll after his outburst yesterday. 

A part of him hopes that sticks around--Sinclair needs a spine, and not just because Mayfield will keep running circles around him until he grows one. 

The rest of Eddie is pissed off that he decided to get one now, when it directly impacted Eddie’s Saturday morning sleeping plans.  

Leave it to these dickheads to use a good deed against him.

“Look--we can’t make sure he’s okay. You can.” Mayfield steps up to jam a painted fingernail in Eddie’s chest. “He won’t let us do anything that will actually help him. You, he can't stop.” 

He does not take a step backward and thus lose all the cool points he has left in the eyes of the younger Hellfire members, but only because he’s already leaned up against the doorframe. 

He bares his teeth at her in a silent snarl instead. 

“We made it worse.” She admits, voice sharp. “And I don’t know how to make it better, but you seem to be able to, so congrats Munson--you get to go again!” 

Which gets Eddie’s back right up. 

He pushes off the doorframe, ready to tell Mayfield--and all his little dipshits--right off, except this is when Wheeler Jr., of all people, decides to add in his two cents. 

“If you don’t go, no one else will.” He looks off to the side while he says it, arms crossed tight across his chest and spitting the words out like he's admitting to a crime. “Robin’s not coming back until Monday and Nancy's got some stupid thing, so you’re literally the only person who can go.” 

Well just stab him in the heart, why don’t you. 

“What are the chances of you fucking back off to whatever hole you crawled out of if I refuse?” He asks, already knowing that he’s done for.

Accepted his fate, because he knows what it’s like not to have someone to rely on, when you need them the most. 

“Zero.” Sinclair and Henderson chant as one. 

“Well then.” He tells them with the biggest, most put upon sigh he can manage. “Guess you got me in a box here.” 

Mayfield grins at him.

It reminds him vaguely of a shark. 

A bloodthirsty, slightly demonic, mean shark. 

“Good. Go get dressed.”

“Oh I’m doing this right now, am I?” He complains, but he’s already moving to go back into his trailer. 

“We’re not leaving until you do!” Mayfield yells at him.

Eddie slams the door in her face. 

(He’s never adopting freshmen again, as long as he fucking lives.)

[evilminji]

Okay but... Imagine Arguing With A Ghost Elephant.

No. Really. IMAGINE IT.

Even STRONGER then in life, somehow SMARTER then in life. MORE single mindedly determined to Do The Thing(tm). Can phase through you and just IGNORE you.

Might have Ghost Powers now.

Can Fly.

Full size elephant. Nyooming along. Fuck your physics.

Asian Elephants live about 48 years. Less in Circus environments. Even if you take good care of them, it's just NOT a healthy environment for an elephant. Sitka, in all likelihood, would ALSO not have been a juvenile while Dick was a kid.

It's entirely likely Sitka died before being reunited with Their Human.

Elephants are on record as reacting to humans the same way we do Small Cute Animals. Where is Sitka's small cute child? The one who likes to sit on Sitka an sneak them treats and scratch their itchs? Where is Sitka's baby?!

Sitka is Upset(tm).

Sitka decides Fuck This Noise. No, they SHAN'T be dying. They are returning to THEIR BOY, thank you. Move. They have been patient ENOUGH. The baby gets upset without Sitka. Lonely!

This is unacceptable.

So IMAGINE. Literal Flying Green Glowing Circus Elephant in FULL Circus Regalia. Over Gotham. It's Tuesday. People would LIKE to say they are surprised but... yeah, this tracks, this might as well happen too.

Dick and Damian are VIBRATING with joy. Bruce is... Not. There is a HIGHLY VISABLE, Day Glow Green Elephant on his lawn. A DEAD one last time he checked. But that sure as SHIT, is Sitka.

Now there is an out of breathe TEENAGER... ALSO on his lawn. Also glowing. Asking about the Elephant. Is it THEIR Elephant? Are they aware the GOVERMENT wants to MURDER Dick's Elephant? The teenager spots Jason.

Oh, and ALSO HIS SON.

The government apparently wants to ALSO murder his Son. He hasn't even had coffee yet. His children are plotting gruesome death in their civies. There is STILL an elephant. Damian is now aware Supernatural Pets are an OPTION.

Fuck it. He's calling back up.

[psaiouma]

TOP 10 SAIOU AUTHORS EVER GO!!!!!

Due to the length of the response I will be putting everything in a Read More, but please do read it!! I have so much love and compliments to give!! And there's DEFINITELY more than 10 listed! But this list was hard as fuck and NOT definitive. Did I miss one of your faves? Write them in the replies :D!!!

Other than the #1 & 2, all of these are in no particular order!

Rovelae! THE platonic love of my life and my #1 inspiration. I would not be here and would not be writing if I hadn't read Hologram and all of her amazing other works. Genuinely, I believe that every single thing Rov writes is a genuine masterpiece full of complex thought and strict planning. Never in a million years did I think she'd become one of my best friends, but I always said she was my #1 long before we ever spoke a word to one another. To this day, no other fic has come close to the way Hologram has made me feel over and over again. She'd bashfully list many other things that should top it, but they simply don't. Her understanding of Shuichi and Kokichi, plus their dynamic, is something that speaks to me and my preferences directly. I cannot express the true glee I feel that she regularly asks me to beta and read her early works, and that I get to see inside that brilliant mind over and over. AND that she sends me pictures of snakes daily!!! You should read (among many others): HOLOGRAM (my #1 fic recommendation with ART I COMMISSIONED FROM CELE HERE!! AND ART BY AUNI HERE!!!), Ruin, Potion of Steal Your Heart, The Flat Effect (WITH ART AUNI DREW HERE!!), and Before the Stars Evaporate (She gets five recs because I LOVE HER!!!!)

FrostieFroakie! My beautiful, amazing, perfect, talented beloved <3 Any time someone asked me who my fave author was, I said Rov, and if you asked me who my fave nsfw author was, there was no competition. None whatsoever. And now the former is one of my best friends and the latter... is the love of my goddamn life of almost four years. <3 My faves have never changed and I WILL hold my angel up on the HIGHEST goddamn pedestal and you will too <3 Froakie is one of THE best authors I've ever had the goddamn PLEASURE of reading. Not only does she write the hottest shit ever catered to ME, but she does it all in such a way that you really feel like you're in a new world. She has one of the most vivid and amazing imaginations I've ever experienced in my entire life, and I will GLADLY rub in all of your faces that I get to see and hear every amazing thought that comes out of her gigantic, beautiful brain. Guess who knows the plots to the Orcahara and Wolf/Bunny sequels? ME, BITCHESSSS <3 On a much more serious note, I do genuinely mean it that I absolutely love everything she writes and does. Call me biased I do not give a single shit. She's never written anything bad in her entire life. [Once again, she will disagree with me, and she is always right about everything, but I do not care, her works are breathtaking and brilliant.] You should read (NOTE: all nsfw): Cowhara Sins (this is quintessential Intro to Saiou reading), Orcahara Sins, I Make Them Good Girls Go Bad, Hunting Season, and Despite Everything, (She ALSO gets five because she's my GIRLFRIEND and the LOML!!!!)

Unseeliekey It is with great sorrow that I tell you that all of Eye's fics on AO3 have been deleted. Last I'd heard from Eye in 2022, he was moving on to OC content, but would continue his multichaptered fics in the future. Should he do so, I know we'd all be GIDDY to see them, but for now, my inclination is to believe that won't happen, since his account still existed last we talked. Though I do not know my stance on fic saving and sharing once an author has deleted their works, everything that Eye ever wrote HAS been saved, with (I believe) one exception. If you DO want to experience some of the most incredible, breathtaking, life-ruining fics in the entire Saiousphere, I have the connections to get you the Goods(tm). His works are remembered fondly, and anyone who was lucky enough to be around when his fics were still up will most likely list him in their top ten, even though he's been gone for over two years now. From his magnum opus, Therefore You and Me(...), to You've Got the Right(...), to Kattar Shuffle, to Fob, to (...)Tragedy and Comedy(...), to Put the Knife Down(...), to Puppy Love, to (...)You are the Captain, to All Drama(...) and EVERYTHING in between, his works are remembered, worshiped, loved, and envied. Eye was truly, truly, a requirement of Saiou reading. And if you were to ever see this @unseeliekey, I hope you know that you were an inspiration to all, and it was an honor to have read your things while they were public. I hope you are doing well wherever you may be, and that you come back someday.

Majorinconvenience When filling all of these out, I saved Kam for last, because I knew it would be the hardest due to a falling out between what I thought was going to be an everlasting friendship. However, I also knew it would be a god damn lie if I didn't put them in my top 10. Their work still shines beautifully all these years later, and come hell or high water I am gonna recommend them. Kam's pieces are jaw droppingly, achingly gorgeous. They are filled with emotion and yearning very few are able to match. I could list many things from their time in the Saiou fandom, but the loudest of which is easily Drowned Words followed by "Gymnopédie No. 1" and The Truth is in the Eye of the Beholder. I highly encourage you to check out everything, though.

Chuwuyas Jul is, in my opinion, one of THE staples of the Saiouma Fandom. Not only being the GOD behind everyone's favorite reverse Phantom Thief AU, but also one of the funniest goddamn oneshots of all time, and also some of the best smut. Jul can write, Jul can DRAW, Jul is THE hottest person IN the Saiouverse and it's NOT even close. They are my favorite Komaeda kinnie and one of my dearest friends. Every time you read a Chuwuyas fic, you know you're in for the best goddamn ride of your entire life. They have SUCH a way of absorbing you in one of the best whirlwinds of all time, and it's a ride you never want to get off. Look, I do a lot of bragging in this post because I am truly proud of the friends and connections I have made, but I genuinely believe one of my greatest accomplishments and prides in my entire life is the fact that Jul has called me THE honorary Moriarty Kinnie, and the fate of Catch & Release has been left in my hands should anything ever happen to Jul before ch 5 releases. [Not that anything will happen. But holy shit what an honor????] You WILL learn about Moriarty Saihara (aka me) by reading Catch & Release. And you should also check out How to Fall in Love in Three Easy Steps!

LovingDefiance Did you think I would make a top 10 and NOT put LovingDefiance on it? I don't give a SHIT if they haven't uploaded anything in five years. I am STILL subscribed and if they were to ever make a return I WILL sob the happiest tears you've ever seen in your entire life. Quite frankly, their Love Hotel Collection (nsfw) is a must-read four part recommendation for me. Saiou switch, there's aftercare, and god DAMN are you going to have a good time. But that's truly not all. Everything they've ever written is an absolute goddamn treat that will leave you salivating for more. I have read and reread their entire collection many times, and it truly never gets old. I hope wherever they are, they are happy.

Rannas I fear this description will not be as long as it should be, but truly, all I can say is that Rannas' writing is great. They had my favorite fic in Your Hand in Mine, a Saiouma Zine, and I've been reading their works consistently for a long, long time. Every Rannas fic is something special and unique, with each sentence being filled with grace and care. I've known many people who have claimed Rannas as their #1 Saiou author, and it's not hard to see why. Hell, when looking through their AO3 again to recommend something, I was wonderfully reminded JUST how much I love everything they've ever written. I will not out their nsfw account here, but know that it is ALSO in my top 10, and it's in yours too. Of course, I am recommending Our Deal, but I'm also going to dance and sing about the hilarious Salmon Mode Series and Meeting Your Match!

Teharissa Though I only have one fic to recommend, Teri's writing is by far and in large the best goddamn stuff I've ever read. They are my FAVORITE writer when it comes exclusively to writing style. This one example will not do Teri justice, but you must trust me on this. It was an honor to work with them on Spilled Ink (a DRV3 writing zine) and their Kiiruma piece is the absolute best work in the entire zine. Also, overall, I just loved talking to them and I miss our conversations and getting to hear their thoughts. Truly an upstanding individual who I gleefully recommend with no hesitancy. I am begging you to read A Thousand Paper Cranes!!

Nxllberry Just to prove I'm not EXCLUSIVELY an oldhead yearning for 2020/1 (though I am), I MUST put Nxllberry on this list, but not for the reason you're probably going to assume. Though their fic Godspeed IS a good recommendation, and you should definitely check it and their other works out, I am here to spread the gospel (pun intended) on their fic Rising Tide, which is, to this day, my favorite postgame smut ever written, and the main reason they are getting put in the top 10. Nxllberry's work is absolutely legendary, and though I haven't checked out the MCD works, I'm sure if that's your speed then you're going to LOVE those. Because the way they handle emotions is just delicious in every way.

ME!!!! Ezra Psychiccupid! You should ALWAYS include yourself in your top ten!!! I always know exactly what I want to read in a way no one else does LOL!! If you don't love your writing and think it's the best then what are you DOING? Perhaps you are an aspiring author and you think people are better than you, and that's okay! It's great to have writers you look up to. But you better think your stuff is AWESOME or about to be awesome!!! YOU put that out there!!! I'm still a relatively new writer in the grand scheme of things. Saiou Prom was only done FOUR YEARS AGO. Sep. 2020. I've grown a lot and I've seen many things since then, but I loved what I wrote then and still do. GRR You should always been in your top 10!!! I'm fucking awesome and I write really good stories because I have really good ideas. I'm extremely honored and thankful that so many people agree. Please, please read my fics and also hype yourself up today!!! Feels a little weird to rec myself but if you DO read anything of mine, please have it be King Piece or In the Aftermath of a Killing Game. If you want to get a feel for how much my writing has grown and improved since those two, check out My Stick; Your Bites (latest work), or One Day We Will Both Die(...). Also, would be a fool to not rec my most popular work, Poison Mouth, though I hope something better outshines it one day :)))) Please,,,

HONORABLE MENTIONS: I have many friends and I know SO many talented people that I'm gonna shout out a LOT and you better be READY. (I'll try to be quicker here ahaha!)

Bcschauer! Aka Lulu! Do you want fluffy Saiou? Because this is the QUEEN of fluffy Saiou. I especially rec Behind Pale Gray which I WILL bully her about to finish. :) Cinderous_scrivenings! Aka Sixth! One hit wonder, though I've had the HONOR of reading more than has been posted. Please read What's Yours to Have, you won't regret it! I_Am_A_Ruin! Aka Bee! One of THE most important people in my entire life. I cannot recommend their works more. Bee has such a way of making everything they write whimsical, like you're sitting by an enchanted campfire being told a story. Their brain is so beautiful and massive. Narrowing down my recommended list for them is extremely difficult, but I think I'm going to go with Poor Unfortunate Souls, Bite the Hand That Feeds You(...) (nsfw), and Fluffernutters and Buttons the Bear! Kokichiouma! Aka Hope! Obviously, I'm going to recommend Reaching, THE time loop Saiou fic. But beyond Reaching, Hope is one of the most in-depth minds in the entire Saiou fandom, who has been writing V3 analysis and translation differences for years. I cannot recommend his work enough. Khattikeri! Aka Keri! Has one of THE BEST canon divergent/postgame AUs of all time. Alongside being one of the most talented people I'm honored to call a friend, Keri is brilliant beyond compare. Please read one of my favorite fics of all time, Everyone's Killing Reality. Notchucktingle! Aka Jess! I think now more than ever, Jess' work is not only incredible but NECESSARY to read. He is, in my personal opinion, one of the most incredible authors to read to get an authentic trans perspective and experience. As someone who is too scared to be out, these fics mean a lot to me, and I know they do to other trans people as well. He's also just an awesome writer. You MUST read Come Into the Water, but I think he'd be a little cross if I didn't also recommend his current brainchild Bad Habit, and who am I to ignore good food? ReturnToZero! Has been in this game a LONG time and has so much to show for it. You absolutely get the best of both NSFW and SFW fics with Zero. From Agrypnos and •.¸♡ Dreamweaver ♡¸.��� to Wishing it Was You (KISSING PRACTICE FIC!!) and Drop-Dead Gorgeous, you will always find something to read! Thatsrightdollface! is THE current go-to if you want consistent, good works near-daily. How they have the writing capacity they do is beyond me but, genuinely, they are SO powerful. I'll confess that I slept on their works for a long, long time, but on Rov's insistence, I started reading daily and I have not regretted it for a second. My favorites thus far are The Rubber Horse Head Mask Strikes and "Gamest in the Land" even if it HURTS!! Myaami! Whose works are always to die for. Extremely excitedly, they are about to do a raffle for a PHYSICAL, PRITED OUT COPY of their fic Dawn Again, on this Vibrant and Violent Night (and you BET I'm getting on in that), but I'm also going to sneak in a recommendation for Dream with Me, because I LOVE this fic.

And SO MANY MORE!!!!! Seriously. I could list like. 20 more people in an instant.

If I did individual fics that I love??? We'd be here ALL DAY. (I'm working on a doc of every Saiou fic I've ever read, actually). It's impossible to make a top ten, truly. Some days, the honorable mentions are in the top ten, some days, you wake up and a brand new INCREDIBLE phantom thief AU has just dropped and all of a sudden you're talking to one of the newest, most brilliant minds of the Saiou fandom out of nowhere.

If you didn't make the list, please know that I love your writing. Even if I have you muted, even if we have beef, even if you never share your work, I love you for writing.

[locketlace]

FT Girls x Ghibli

aka what I think each FT girl’s fav Ghibli movie is

Lucy — Howl’s Moving Castle

Read the book before watching the movie, absolutely adores them both. Definitely had a major crush on movie!Howl growing up (and a little one on book!Howl too, but she’d never admit it outloud)

Wendy — Totoro

Watched it because of the cute animals, was absolutely sobbing her EYES out at the end. Could not stop thinking about Mystogan throughout, had to be consoled by Chelia and Carla. Still cries every time she watches it

Juvia — Ponyo

Sees her child/pre-Fairytail self in Ponyo. Made Gray watch it with her, who did actually enjoy it by the end.

Erza — Princess Mononoke

It the first movie she ever saw, not long after joining Fairytail. Watched it on repeat all night, had to be physically dragged away from the TV by Cana and Gray.

Levy — Whisper of the Heart

Lucy recommended it to her and Freed at one of their book club meet-ups (which they definitely have trust me) and she adored it. Thinks it’s a beautiful exploration of the writing process.

Mirajane — Kiki’s Delivery Service

Put it on for Lisanna and Elfman when the three were kids, but ended up liking it even more than the other two. Was the first “childish” thing Mira actually allowed herself to enjoy after joining FT, so it’s now the Strauss’ official Comfort Movie (tm)

Lisanna — Spirited Away

No Face scared Elfman too much to watch it with her as a kid, and Mira only wanted to watch Kiki’s, so she made Natsu and Happy watch it with her. They agreed when she told them it had a dragon in it. After Lisanna “died,” Natsu and Happy couldn’t even look at their copy of it, and only ended up pulling it back out after Edolas for movie night with Lisanna. She cried.

Yukino — When Marnie Was There

Thought it was a sapphic film for 80% of the movie, did not expect the plot twist. Still cried at the end

Ultear — The Tale of the Princess Kaguya

One of her favorite movies of all time. Didn’t cry while watching, but DID cry the next day while hugging a very confused Meredy

Cana - Porco Rosso

I don’t know how to justify this one I just think she’d enjoy it

Mavis — Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind

She’s literally Nausicaa. Like come on. I think she’d also really enjoy Castle in the Sky but Nausicaa is my personal favorite and I needed it on this list

[bearimba]

Ok wait I have vague GIG(G)S ideas:

Impulse: an Experienced Ghost Hunter(TM)!

He worked for whoever the in-game company is (they don't have a canon name as far as I'm aware?) for a while before going independent.

Accidentally made a pact** with a demon during his early days and is now racing to reverse it before he dies and his soul gets eaten

Something about the pact gives him plot armor so he's lowkey immune to dying (yes this is counterproductive. no I don't know why/how this works yet. probably something happened to make the contract go awry)

Surprise surprise, making deals with a demon goes against company policy, but breaking the pact like they want would also probably kill him. He makes a get-away by stealing their van, and since he's got the equipment and skills for it, he continues ghost-hunting to make a living while on the run.

He also offers services as an electrician on the side just for extra cash, which is great because faulty electronics is often a sign of EMF stuff.

He gets little demon horns? Maybe? It's for the vibe (and maybe a tail too, to hold his lighter with)

The cheat sheet is just a journal (or maybe a collection of journals?) full of notes he's taken over the years

Skizz: a literal and metaphorical angel*!

For backstory and world-building reasons I haven't figured out yet, he forms a sin-eating pact** with Impulse, and that's why they stick together (besides the fact they enjoy each other's company, of course).

He's a tradesman on the side just like Impulse, but he does more home-repair and carpentry stuff.

All his clothes are torn-up because he keeps dying in stupid ways, but he hasn't replaced them yet because he insists it makes him look cool.

He's in charge of taking pictures because his ✨angelic presence✨ counteracts the EMF stuff that messes up the camera. They used to have a much nicer one that wasn't affected by EMF back when Impulse first started, but they managed to break it and haven't been able to afford one like it since.

Honestly I don't have enough headcanons for him yet and it makes me sad :(

Gem: a totally normal… individual!

You heard of not-deer? Yeah, it's kinda like that >:]c Has she been replaced? Was she once Gem but has been transformed into something else? Has she always been this way and no one noticed until now? Who knows!

She and Grian met in middle school while causing trouble in the same arts class and have been buddies ever since.

She liked to spend a lot of time in the woods near her home partially due to a casual interest in botany and partially because she and Grian could get up to shenanigans without getting caught. Even when they moved to a different country for college (it was the only university they could find that offered decent programs for both architecture and medical science, not to mention his cousin offered to let them stay at his place rent-free), she enjoyed driving out to the nearby national park to hang out. That park was also her last-reported location before she went missing.

If you look too close, there's subtle details that hint that something's not quite right---eyes that reflect light, limbs that are a little longer than they used to be, very sparse blinking, and a smile that's a little too wide...

Grian was going to be her first victim. He was an easy target, after all---unlikely be missed under the right circumstances, and scatterbrained enough to fall for her tricks---but there was never a good time to strike without blowing her cover. Eventually, the cravings for human died down completely, and she (mostly) forgot he was supposed to be her meal instead of her best friend.

She likes to study other people and mimic their behavior, and she's gotten a lot better at it than she used to be when she first reappeared.

Imp and Skizz both realize there's something off about her, but she's not exactly aggressive or anything, so they just let her be. It doesn't help that whenever they try to question Grian about it, he insists there's nothing wrong.

She usually stays in the van because for some strange reason, the ghosts don't like to appear when she's around.

Although she didn't get to study anything in-depth, she does have more medical knowledge than the rest of the crew, and getting her to help is cheaper than going to a doctor.

Grian: a blind clairvoyant!

Despite Gem's disappearance, Grian managed to pull himself together enough to continue college in the fall. But about halfway through his degree, Jimmy pulled him along to study in a supposedly haunted part of the library because no one else would bother them there, during which the whole building experienced a blackout. The staff fixed it quickly enough, but when the lights came back on, Jimmy was confronted with a knocked-out Grian. For the rest of the semester, he'd be plagued by headaches, insomnia, sleepwalking outside and sleeptalking about the moon and eyes, paranoia, periods of amnesia, and other symptoms that almost made him drop out of college.

Ever since, he's had has this uncanny intuition for when something's about to go wrong and often suddenly knows things without any explanation as to how. Skizz swears it's like he's got eyes in the back of his head or something.

When Gem popped up right after he graduated and suggested to him that they leave on a long roadtrip, he wasn't really in a state of mind to question it. He just thought it would be a good chance to get his head on straight, and strangely enough, just being near Gem helps him to think much more clearly. He just assumes it's because they're such good friends.

He gets possessed at Point Hope, and although the crew manages to exorcise him, he still occasionally gets the urge to set sail and never come back. He's also noticed a lot more mollusks in strange places since then, though surely that must be unrelated...

Scar: a lovable salesman!

He's also considered an angel*, and he definitely likes to play the part to sell his wares.

The GIGS crew buys their supplies from him since certified sources are rare and trustworthy vendors are even rarer. Scar is still a pretty shifty guy, but he hasn't let them down yet---killing off his customers beloved friends would be bad business, after all!

He lives on the road just like GIGS for his own reasons, so they have to arrange to meet with him way both they run out of supplies.

His previous life is a well-kept secret, but he had an interest in the occult even before he became an angel. He claims it was to contact his old pets from beyond the grave, but unsurprisingly, no one quite believes him.

He loves to make outdated references, but no one knows if it's because he's that old or he's just a nerd.

Sometimes he'll join the crew on an investigation for fun, but he dies more often than not, and recovery is so inconvenient that he doesn't like to be on-site very often.

The crew:

They mostly deal in ghost identification, but they do offer extermination for an extra fee. It's more expensive than companies that specialize in extermination, but that's just the price for convenient/speedy service.

Each person has an unofficial role with Impulse as the ringleader, Skizz as the photographer, Gem as the man in the chair, and Grian as the odd-jobber. Of course, everyone has a little experience with everything, but they're most comfortable like this.

They all live in the van, and will usually stay in a town for anywhere from a few days to a couple months depending on how much work is available.

They tend to stay nights at motels and the like, but when money's short or there's nowhere to stay nearby, Imp and Skizz usually sleep in the cab of the truck while Grain and Gem get to camp in the back with sleeping bags.

Pay is split five ways: each member gets a set stipend for personal stuff, and the rest goes towards "work expenses" such as food, motel fees, gas, and the occasional treat for a job well done.

Other appearances:

Pearl, a mysterious woman with a wolfish grin and strange knack for attracting the supernatural.

Jimmy, Grian's well-meaning cousin who accidentally gets Grian possessed, freaks out when he goes no-contact on a sudden "road trip" with someone who's been presumed dead, and then nearly dies himself after an investigation gone wrong.

Lizzie (Jimmy's cousin on the other side) and her husband Joel, who contact GIGS for help and are surprised to find two old acquaintances among them (which is how Jimmy finds Grian again).

Ze and his new colleague Sneeg, two employees of Imp's old company that they run into at a haunting that got double-booked.

BDubs ("is that even a name?" "shut up. like you can judge, Mr. 'my-name-is-Grian-not-Grain.'" "yeah--- well--- at least I'm not named after some stupid stars!"), a very concerned patron who insists on supervising the investigation and gets roped into helping.

Ghostie-ghoulie stuff:

The supernatural is common enough to be recognized but isn't typically considered a part of everyday life.

"Ghost" refers to any supernatural creature that forms from human souls, which mean their appearences and attributes can vary just as much as human personalities. However, their traits can be greatly affected by the circumstances in which they were created (aka how a person died), so there's enough commonality to classify them.

Just like any other being, ghosts need energy to function. They absorb this energy in the form of heat and expel it and electromagnetic radiation. If they output enough of this radiation, they can create EMFs that can be detected by readers. This is also why haunted areas tend to be cold and events/hunts can be tracked by spikes in EMF levels.

If ghosts aren't formed enough enough energy to subsist right off the bat, they can wither away without intervention.

Most ghosts the GIGS that exist are fairly new, so they aren't strong enough to kill anyone. It usually takes at least a year of residence for enough EMF to gather for them to mess with the environment, and even longer to cause events. However, the older a ghost is, the more its sentience slips away.

The reason ghosts kill can vary wildly and may even depend on the type of ghost. Some ghosts are simply territorial, some hold grudges towards the living (though they aren't always aware enough to realize what/why), and some even want to possess the living.

Possessions are incredibly rare because it takes an immense amount of energy to possess someone, but most ghosts are no longer sentient to want such a thing by the time they've amassed enough power. Possession of a living body is even harder for the exact same reason.

*Angels and demons don't actually have anything to do with Christian mythology. Unlike other ghosts, neither are fully dead. The link between their soul and body is just messed up, though due to the rarity of both entities, how exactly this occurs is severely under-researched. For demons, their soul has been banished from their body (the still-functioning body is called a zombie and can be killed to destroy the demon), and their creation typically happens within an abundance of "bad energy" (ex: violent murder). On the other hand, angels are permanently bonded to their bodies and are created in the presence of "good energy" (ex: heroic sacrifice). They can also be killed by destroying their bodies, but unlike demons, the fact that their soul remains inside the body means they're able to regenerate even though the scars always remain. Both entities can rot (not age) to death within the average human lifespan but can prolong the wait by consuming energy, and both tend to have very clumsy/uncoordinated bodies due to the messed up soul link.

**Also, although it costs demons a lot of energy to form a pact with humans (and again, the manner in which a pact is formed/maintained is unknown), the fulfillment of a contract will grant them much more power than they out into it---it's bascially an investment. Angels can do a similar things called "sin-eating" but it works in reverse: it takes a little energy to make the pact, but the fullfilment will drain them greatly (no I don't exactly know how this works yet either. but it sounds cool so I'm keeping it >:]c )

[lunar-wandering]

things about the Boboiboy series that drive me NUTS (this list is written solely from memory)

the fact that the first three elements, Wind, Earth, and Lightning, didn't really start out as having different personality's from Boboiboy himself (at least, not by much/it wasn't extremely noticable) but then, Lightning, after being split for too long, losing his memories completely, and achieving tier 2, becoming Thunderstorm, suddenly goes all Edgy(TM). and then Wind eats a mood-changing potion and goes manic, and not only does that unlock his tier 2, making him Cyclone but that becomes his personality. like. hello??? the implications.... and then later on, Fire, Water, Leaf, and Light manifest WITH their personalities pre-set. what??? the vague implication that the elements are sentient and the personalities started becoming more obvious when Boboiboy's mind started slipping/letting them have freer reign haunts me every day.

speaking of Fire's manifestation. he initially manifested from the stress of exams and walked around accidentally burning shit down in the middle of the night. what a mood tbh.

if the elements are sentient, the implications of Retak'ka stealing them from Boboiboy and using them- without having his personality change, is INSANE. like bro. he used them as a weapon instead of letting them be actual people..... and then later on in the comics Thunderstorm gets taken away AGAIN and is trapped in a sword, a literal weapon, and is used. again. HELLO????

both of the first times Thunderstorm gets summoned (both the obvious first time and the first time after they all got reset to tier 1 due to Complications) involving his phobia kills me every time why the FUCK did they do that. they didn't even address it the second time around but they animated Lightning looking like he was in distress anyways. WHY DID THEY DO THAT TO HIM. i know he's the fave but like. was this necessary.

BOBOIBOY JUST DECIDING "Y'KNOW WHAT??? I'M GONNA INVENT FUSIONS NOW HERE WE GO" IN THE SECOND MOVIE AND PROCEEDING TO ABSOLUTELY WIPE THE FLOOR WITH RETAK'KA

i could list so much Thunderstorm stuff tbh he's definitely the fave they give him so many cool bits of animation. he does the "teleports behind you" move SO OFTEN and it's SO GOOD

Leaf's deadpan "Fashion Tragedy" line

that one time Boboiboy split into Fire, Wind, and Leaf, and EVERYONE agreed he shouldn't have done that and should never do it again cause those three have negative braincells when in a group together

the songs??? like. the opening songs. the insert songs used in the movies. the OST. why the hell are they so good. i mean i know i personally like em cause they tend to use rock. but like. its SO GOOD.

Yaya and Ying being arguably the two most powerful/capable members of the friend group as they should

that one time Thunderstorm and Fang fought and they paused right before hitting each other and the objects behind both of them exploded from the force of the other's attack

in the first movie when it hinted that we'd see Boboiboy without his hat for the first time ever throughout the entire movie and then it FINALLY HAPPENED when he caught a giant hammer right before it could hit him and punched the dude away with a blast of energy. he has a white streak in his hair and it's visible in the series from this point onwards.

I KNOW IVE SAID A LOT OF THUNDERSTORM SCENES BUT THAT POINT IN GALAXY WHERE HE WAS USING TIER 2 BEFORE HE SHOULD'VE BEEN USING IT AND HE KEPT SWAPPING IN BETWEEN BOBOIBOY AND THUNDERSTORM THROUGHOUT THE FIGHT??? THAT WAS COOL AS FUCK I LOVED THAT

i could list so many of the really cool shots from this series tbh. that one time Light slow-mo backflipped over a bunch of debris and then activated laser eyes to shoot at the villain is a highlight.

literally everything about the fact the plot of this show went from "aliens come to earth to steal chocolate" to "boboiboy nearly fucking dies on an almost daily basis"

[death-in-a-handbasket]

arranged marriage au with Matthias :) just thoughts or drabble or maybe even share what we talked about w/ the people

okay :33 so in this instance for plot's sake let's say that his parents are still alive and that he has yet to snap and commit arson. his parents are kind of disappointed with his ass because they think he's dour and moody and kind of a loserboy of a son right cause they're always nagging his ass about being more like louis

well the man is 24 and they're really starting to turn an eye towards his prospects, if they can't get this dour and introverted little freak to perform well or live up to their standards maybe they can at least bare minimum weasel a good connection for their family out of marrying him off to someone. they doubt he would get married on his on volition I mean he doesn't exactly look like a man who is out making moves, so they decide to set up an arranged marriage with someone of good standing and hope that by the time the wedding goes off, it'll be too late for his partner or their family to turn them down due to the ardent levels of depression and various other mental illnesses pouring off him, so while they take great care to find someone eligible and from a popular and wealthy family, the courting and wedding is kind of a rush job because they're trying to sneak him in before anyone notices what's wrong with him

obviously he doesn't really want any of this and he's totally disgruntled but he's holding his tongue trying to shoulder a gajillion expectations and at least make sure that his parents can be proud of 1 thing for him and it's not fucking up getting married. now here's where it gets interesting right, he doesn't really hold any sour feelings towards you because this whole thing is being arranged so you're probably also being ordered around by your parents as well, can't exactly take his anger out on someone who also isn't really rockin with this. however he isn't exactly friendly either because he's trying to multitask his parent's demands and also fend off louis haunting and teasing him so from your perspective all you see is a really dour and distant guy who doesn't respond much to you when you do try to reach out so you just take a backseat on the whole affair and pray to god he isn't abusive or bare minimum he leaves you alone

the wedding goes off without any problems and the two of you are finally left without any parental figures shadowing over anyone and it's then that now you two have to basically process practically living with a stranger, you two barely know the first thing about each other, just some surface level stuff about family social standings and professional lineages. you know his family works in some kind of theatrics but you don't know the nitty gritty of it so you make conversation about it ask best you can. his words are still clipped and frankly kind of pissy about it so you take it as more of a sore spot and back off. maybe this guy really just is a leave him alone and do your own thing type case. matthias realizes this was kind of a dick move since it's not like you have any clue that he's still trying to work around Louis TM so he makes an effort to be nicer and try to smooth his hackles now that his parents aren't breathing down his neck as much

you start noticing that he's actually taken up an effort to cook for you and seems to be trying to learn what you enjoy eating. he knows most people enjoy music so he tries to gift you records as an olive branch and a white flag that he's not trying to be an ass. little things like this slowly draw the two of you closer together into being friends, and you start talking a little more with him and picking up on what he's authentically like and not just the act he puts on for his parents. but it does not go smoothly mind you. you start noticing he day drinks when you're not looking (concerning), this drives a quiet wedge between you two as you wonder if maybe they were trying to marry him off because he's a rotten drunk or some shit, and then you notice just how often he is trying to hide or get rid of any marks of his trade. especially louis. you know it's practically an heirloom at this point but you see him toss that thing in closets so much or try to bury it in the dirty clothes hamper. it starts to occur to you that maybe the drinking is not just a bad habit but a coping mechanism

yall often sleep separately or very far apart in the bed as part of the silent pact not to make things weird, but it doesn't escape your notice that he shakes a lot in his sleep or wakes up with a jolt in the late hours of the night, it's frequent that when you wake up for the 3am piss break or drink of water that he's awake and hunched at the dinner table or hiding in the study. you start reallyyyyyy gathering something is wrong afoot but oh my god he's not going to tell you about loud he knows he'll sound crazy and he's heard bad things about asylums so he's not looking to pay a visit anytime soon

the story between you two kind of ends up at this weird halfway point between really cute courting rituals (you find out he can dance albeit stiffly and you two learn to waltz to the records he got) and psychological horror (you start noticing louis is ending up in places he absolutely wasn't in before and matt's psychosis and paranoia about it starts seeping out more openly)

[cosmic0dust]

Silver as a Gym Leader

- a ramble from someone who’s way too autistic about pokemon and rival Silver

Silver would absolutely either be a Poison or Dark type specialist, but for this I am going for Dark, with his ace of course being Weavile

Important things to note

• Mainly giving him pokemon that are available in gen 4 considering this would probably be hgss

•Also assuming fairy types don’t exist yet, and giving his pokemon egg/tm moves

•Giving some of his pokemon hidden abilities because I think he’d def breed for them and be a mean gym leader to get through

•If this was an e4 team I’d probably fully deck out his pokemon with competitive items, but since it is just a gym leader team only two of his pokemon hold berries.

•Enjoy!

Silver’s Team

Umbreon

Silvers team usually consists of really speedy pokemon/sweepers like Crobat, and Sneasel so I think giving an umbreon would help round out his team and add a tank to take hits, though it’d be different than his usual style. I also think adding an umbreon is a nice nod to Johto, as well as a friendship evolution. Showing off his character development and growth that we see at the end of HGSS.

Ability: synchronize - inflicts status conditions onto the opponent as well if hit by one

Held item: Sitrus berry - restores 25% of max HP

Moveset

Psychic - to deal with fighting types

Dark pulse - good STAB move

Wish - good healing move for a tanky pokemon

Confuse Ray - just feel like this helps round out the set

Houndoom

Houndoom helps deal with the bug types with a good fire type STAB move, and is also a nice nod to the old official art of Gen 2 Silver with a houndoom. It’s also a solid dark type pokemon.

Ability: Early Bird - pokemon wakes up twice as fast if fallen asleep

Moveset

Flamethrower - perfect to take care of bug types

Nasty plot - great for boosting sp. attack

Torment - prevents the spamming of the same move - gives it an opportunity to land a few more attacks if it tanks a water/ground type move

Dark pulse - another dark stab move

Honchkrow

Now this is a nod to Silver in pokespe, who uses a Murkrow and eventually a Honchkrow. I think it’s a cute little reference, and also a solid team member. It’s flying type is also a great counter for bug and fighting type pokemon

Ability: Super Luck - boosts critical hit rate

Moveset

Night slash - we already know what I’m gonna say.. dark stab move..

Drill peck - great stab move for flying and bug types

Feather dance - lowers opponents attack stat by 2 stages, great for fighting types and physical attacking bug types / moves like X-Scissor

Sucker punch - more stab, also good against faster opponents since Honchkrow is kinda slow

Obviously Weavile would be his ace, having assumed he would evolve his sneasel before becoming gym leader. Sneasel is also a pokemon he has in canon, so he has to be here. Ngl, struggling to find a good moveset for this guy. Weavile doesn’t have a ton of options in gen 4. I think it’s best use would be a swords dance sweeper

Weavile

Held item: Chople berry - reduces damage from super effective fighting moves to 50%

Ability: pressure - reduces opponents move PP by 2 instead of 1 each use

Moveset

Night slash - .. duh

Ice punch - the best physical ice move Weavile gets

Swords dance - to crank up the attack

Aerial ace - bug counter go brrr

might make another post about him as an e4 member or how his gym would be designed! I definitely think he could also be a poison specialist (maybe a poison specialist in the e4) or a champion and I’d love to build up his team like fully decked out competitively for a champion style team. Might also do smth like this for spe silver! Thanks for reading :3

[reidsbuckley]

This might be an unpopular opinion, but I liked the episode! Sure, some aspects of it were a bit underwhelming but from the moment I thought Graham was gonna die I was crying and didn't stop for the rest of the episode.

Starting with my critiques: I think that the emergency could have taken up a little less screen time, but in the end I didn't mind too much. I think the other thing for me was Eddie's rescue of Buck and Ravi. I wished it had been just a bit more dramatic. You know, maybe when it was Buck's turn to go there was another rumble that caused a crash that Buck went down with, and then Eddie went in to save him from there. But overall, with the first bump we got and that look that Buck gave Eddie, I was cool with it.

Now onto other things! From the moment that Chim went in after Athena, I knew something big was happening for him this episode. And something big did happen! And the moment he started calling out orders in the laundry room I knew we were getting Captain Howard Chimney Han, and I am so happy about that! I know that a lot of people wanted Hen to become captain, but if y'all remember when she was going to med school and she was interim captain, she nearly died. She had to pull over on the side of the road because she was so exhausted she was falling asleep while driving, and she was losing quality time with her family. Of course she turned it down! I was genuinely not surprised that she did that. Plus, Chim has been at the 118 longer than the any of the main cast, including Bobby himself. And as great of a captain that Bobby was, the way that Chimney spoke about him in his speech kind of gave me the closure I needed to accept Bobby's death and move forward with this new age and era of 9-1-1.

Another great thing was that we got Chimthena! The band is back, y'all! When she was telling him about how Bobby felt about him, I could tell that was her way of saying that she forgives him, even though it wasn't Chim's fault. It was also her way of urging Chimney to go for the role of captain, that it's where she thinks he deserves to be, and she is so right! And then for Chimney to be the one to tell Athena that he and Maddie named their baby boy Robert Nash Han? And Athena looking fondly at the Henren wedding photo? They're so besties! That's my family!

I also really appreciated the fact that Eddie and Chris are staying, of course, and all thanks to Captain Chim!!! He really said "Fuck your parents and El Paso, you're staying!" and then turned to Buck and said "and you too!" I also really like what he said about grief. That if Buck transferred or Eddie went back to El Paso, it wouldn't make the grief go away but force them to grieve in solitude instead (even though that's what they were literally fighting about the episode before!!!)

Now, I did say "Fuck? What do you mean?" when I saw that Buck was looking for a new place, but then he said he wanted something that felt more lived-in? Y'all, I'm calling it now we're gonna start the new season with Buddie roommates still because Buck is still looking for a new place, and that is going to be what leads to Buddie canon (if we get it at all). At least, that is what I hope happens with that plot line because right now? Yeah, I'm kind of pissed not at Oliver and Ryan essentially but more their PR team for allowing all of those interviews and Buddie questions when they all knew nothing was happening this season. Moreover I'm mad at Tim Minear because I just know Ryan Murphy is fighting for his life trying to get those to men to kiss. Like, RM made Gleeu- you cannot convince me that he's not gunning for Buddie, too. I'm convinced that it's just TM and KR keeping it from happening. But if we could get bi Buck canon after screaming it from the rooftops from day 1 then I'm sure we could weasel our way into Buddie canon in the next season or two (and as much as I would like it to happen sooner or later, I think it would take 1-2 more seasons for it to actually happen based solely on where they are right now. I mean, they're a slowburn and are meant to be a slowburn. Their feelings realization? Yeah, that's going to be at least a half a season on its own, another half season for both confessions, followed by us starting the season after that with them tip-toeing around each other because they don't want to fuck things up but they're just so in love and I think 1.3 seasons is about when we'll get Buddie canon. Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk).

Note: I would still love to see the Bobby-in-a-government-facility Theory come true, but this is just where I'm at right now!

[littlegaycubeoftofu]

I am compelled to share thoughts on 911 s8 ep16 developments, I have truly sunk low.

In isolation, the Athena grief storyline was very touching, and I got what they were going for. Did it feel a bit like they were mocking fans who thought Bobby was alive? Yep. But it was written before all that started, so unless TM did extensive reshoots (I mean...they ARE really far behind on shooting...) I think it's just unfortunate, not malicious.

Burying Bobby with his first family was a beautiful sacrifice on Athena's part, and I loved it.

The Eddie situation is weird. I can't help thinking there's actor drama, because this kind of thing happened before, like on Buffy, when Xander was kept out of an episode and used less, and it came out years later it was due to BTS issues. The Buddie part of me wonders if RG doesn't want to have Eddie be gay, because his interviews are so weird about it.

I'm new to watching 911 as it airs, but their shooting schedule seems so chaotic: filming and editing a week before an episode airs? Moving scenes and plot lines with short notice? Huge plot points being spoiled on Tiktok? I know the LA fires caused problems, but I can't think of any other show that operates like this. Feel bad for the crew and actors.

[hcgossips]

Attention Seeker

I had to rewrite this, changing a few expressions, ‘cause they are trying to prevent me from posting about the duck in T . So I had to create different expressions for characters and events, so I can post. That means I am probably, in the right direction.

Do you believe this soap opera has continued because of an agenda? I’m starting to believe the duck decided to continue with it, because of the publicity and to tantrum the ones censuring him. He wants to tease them and continue motivating the comments and theories on social media. But, of course, I believe there’s something else. He looked miserable in the bullfighting country and the "model" looked embarrassed, blushed as if conscious of her insignificance in that restaurant photo, as if knowing she shouldn’t be there.

The duck looked destroyed in the restaurant photo, also beside his bro pretending a casual walk, which was actually staged. And, those people who greeted him weren’t there by chance and actually, on purpose, for that video. It was pathetic, as if they wanted to pass an image the duck was familiar to the place and that he could walk there as a resident. That walk around the city with the group and a caretaker pushing a supposed toddler, while the supposed female responsible seemed ashamed of the scene, walking (actually, running to avoid being in the video) far from her supposed toddler, was also staged and programmed to produce material to be posted, to go viral, so they could build a narrative that would include the unskilled and the supposed child.

Whoever is managing this is an amateur.  If not an amateur, this person apparently intends to subject the duck to humiliation. Why? And, apparently, the duck was probably bought with a deal he, after signing, couldn’t end. He, apparently, signed a deal with an NDA saying he would have to perform the unskilled's  husband and dad of her toddler That’s the only explanation. Because, he wouldn’t look that miserable if all this plot was true. But, his mistake was to, after realizing that, make decisions moved by resentment and emotions, not rationally. He ended up confusing his followers, which could have seen the truth if he had allowed it. Instead, he was arrogant, blamed them for his bad decisions, wasn’t accountable for his mistakes and started doing more mistakes based on lies, one after the other.

He was withered, flat, wilted during the press of Argylle and, specially, The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare, two movies he probably wouldn’t accept doing, before this circus. During Argylle, he was running from the press, saying he was being sorry for “following the lead”. He was definitely saying, “I can’t! I am being controlled”.  During TM of UW he was more comfortable doing the movie, but still restricted during press. As of the beginning of this joke with the unskilled, the duck was put in jobs (like cameos) that would be more appropriate for an actor in the beginning of his career. It was as if he was managed by an amateur trying to break him down, forcing him into jobs more appropriate for a starter. Was someone trying to give him a lesson for something he did?

There’s surely something going on. The duck always used massive promotional strategies to boost his image, producing staged materials for self-promotion to break the internet and go viral. He’s an attention seeker. So, it’s possible all that circus had one only author: The duck himself, who could have decided to make things differently this time, and stage a steady relationship with that plot by trying a different approach on his audience, without his manager knowledge. But, a scandalous photo from the unskilled was published, went viral and messed up with his promotional plans. Maybe he has been trying this for a time.

So, let’s ask: Why did KC give up on the stunt with him after 10 days? I’m saying: There’s something weird about his stunts with fake girlfriends and something very odd about this latest one. Have you asked yourself that the latest one could be carrying the guilt for something HE should be accountable for? If only she decided to talk…

[bonefall]

Is Sandgorse still abusive in BB? If so does he still save Sparrow? Idk I think it'd be a neat thing for Talltail to brood on and move past once realizing the truth. Like just because your abuser did a "Good Thing tm" doesn't mean you have to forgive them or that all of a sudden it excuses their past a tion towards you.

Or did you remove this plot beat entirely? If so I don't blame you :P

Weird that Tumblr search isn't giving me all the stuff I tagged :/ hopefully after finals are done I can compile a 1st draft/The Story So Far for the rework of Tallstar’s Revenge

It's now called TALLSTAR’S COLLAPSE. It is actually a story I am rewriting with tragedy in mind. It's about Talltail fleeing WindClan with his starcrossed lover, Sparrow, only to eventually be drawn back to it where he becomes a perpetuator of all the things that made him leave.

To answer your question; Yes, and. Sandgorse is abusive and there's a LOT of nuance to this situation. I'm not sure if he still saves "Sparrow" though because I have waaaay more of a point in mind with Tallstar’s tumultuous relationship to him.

Summary of changes,

Tallstar's Collapse

Sparrow is the Clanmew name Jake takes when his group interacts with WindClan. His first language is actually a dialect of Townmew!

(Also Firestar has no known father in BB)

His group is nomadic. They go from place to place trading goods. I need a name for both them and their cultural "cluster" but in my head, Jake's family is the Algernauts because Algernon is the current leader

It's important the Algernauts are extremely endearing because leaving them is VERY painful

(and something i want to frame as the wrong choice for tallstar, emotionally)

WindClan is in a very sensitive period of its history. Before Tallstar was born, Heatherstar began the Mothermouth Moorland War, to take a very large parcel of land from ShadowClan. A good 1/5th of it.

Naturally this is a huge project and incredibly ambitious. Sacrifices Must Be Made

The sacrifice she has chosen to make is the death of tunneling. Because she's smothering it.

Tunneling is PEACEFUL, defensive at best. You can't dig them in a floodplain, they would be useless for holding the Mothermouth Moorland territory

Tallkit is born into a terrible position. Son of the head tunneler, mother in a terrible depression, and Heatherstar trying to pry a wedge between the "future" and the "past"

Im also planning to change his name. He was born Slowworm-Kit, which has a connotation of cleverness in Clanmew. To bully him, Shrewpaw calls him Wormtail, because Slowworms drop their tails if pulled. It means "you will get trapped in a cave-in, and when they pull your tail, it'll fall off"

But it doesn't translate well into English... so I'm not sure what his Heatherstar-given warrior name would be. Wormwing or Wormleap maybe, like he "defied fate" to become a wonderful moor-runner...

Or maybe the prefix is Drop? Droptail as the mean bully name and Dropflight as the warrior name...

Anyway, when he returns, Heatherstar welcomes back the extra claws and honors the lesson he learned with "Talltale." In Clanmew this is "Story-travelled," his leader name meaning "Tale-star."

Anyway. Back to the cat drama

Talltail (name pending) is in a tight spot. I kind of want to show everyone being a victim except Heatherstar herself, who has all the power in this situation.

Not that it excuses anyone

Sandgorse is watching something he loves dying, an ancient tradition passed down for generations. He is trying to force his son into a position he shouldn't HAVE to occupy, but his child is the one thing he might have any control over

(Until Tall breaks it ofc)

Tallpaw was just a kid. He needed to take out his bullying and the stress on something, and that was usually his mother and the concept of tunneling

Palebird has been completely neglected by her mate as he focuses on the person he WANTS his kid to be. She NAMED a Fading Kit, a serious social taboo, and even the support of the nursery and Woolytail can't pull her out before Tall's kithood is over

Heatherstar is using Tallpaw as a political pawn and Tallpaw is too young and hurt to realize it. He was given to her sister, Dawnstripe, and endlessly praised for his skill and talent in a time where he NEEDED positive feedback

Which is making his relationships with his parents worse

All the while, there's VIOLENCE. Regular raids and counterstrikes. Cats die and get injured, and it only escalates as Tall gets older and Cedarstar is reaching the end of his lives, hoping to end the conflict before then

And in all this chaos and uncertainty, there comes Sparrow.

Just a trader and an honored guest, there's been lots of these nomadic visitors since the time of Windstar herself, but they've become quite rare.

When Sandgorse dies suddenly in that collapse (TITLE DROP) Talltail has the push he finally needs. It's too much. He can't process this

Sparrow begs him to leave with them, they don't even need to confront anyone, just come!

IF IT SUCKS HIT DA BRICKS

I have tons of really nice little things planned for this part of the story. It's several chapters of Talltail being free.

He engages in the funeral rites of Wee Hen, asking if he may sit vigil for her. His new family is honored to allow it, Reena even tries to do it too and falls asleep

(Little sister energy)

They meet all sorts of people and go to many places. Talltail learns that the world is vast, and there's an endless amount of knowledge out here.

It all starts crashing down when him and Jake find a litter of abandoned kittens, and become parents.

They're a few moons old.. around the same age as his halfsibs back home.

It starts bringing back memories. He wonders how they're doing. If they made a nice grave for Sandgorse...

The sudden longing for his own mother strikes him like lightning.

For the first time in eons, he feels GUILT over leaving. He thought it was over-- he's living his own life now!

But what if they're hurt? What if there was a battle and he couldn't help? What if his mentor died and he didn't even know?

What kind of a horrible son doesn't even say goodbye?

The problems that made him leave seem so small now, and the homesickness is like acid leaking from his stomach, dissolving his guts and leaving him hollow

He's raising kits who will never know what it means to earn a title, or have a permanent home, or--

(Any of the other things he should have learned don't have meaning outside of clan culture. Things they wouldn't miss.)

He cherishes the memories he makes here, raising children with his mate, but something turns inside of Talltail. Like the groaning ache of a hundred stones on top of a decaying mineshaft

The REAL collapse is this. An existential crisis Talltail can't escape from.

And eventually, it comes tumbling down with one last, horrible nightmare.

In his dream, he came home only to find the sandy camp abandoned, the dens decrepit, full of musty scent and cobwebs.

Sandgorse was there. And they talked.

His dad was gruff as always, disappointed. But he didn't say anything the real Sandgorse would say.

The nightmare said, "You really did turn out like me. We both left your mother when she needed us. Turned our backs on our leader. And now we're both dead to WindClan."

Tall wakes up crying. Jake is there to comfort him, but the conversation they have is sad.

Jake tries to tell him that's all not true, and even if it WAS his dad, his dad sucked and would only say that to hurt him!

But... Tall can't believe it. Jake's right but also wrong. He IS all those horrible things.

And...... how can jake ever Understand? He does not know the Bonds of a Clan cat

(thought terminating cliche. Outsiders Cant Understand Our Bonds.)

He stays a few more days, but that nightmare was the end. And everyone sees the change.

The kits are apprentice-aged. He stayed until they would be old enough to keep up with the Algernauts.

And he says goodbye. He won't ever leave without saying goodbye ever again.

Jake says it doesn't have to be goodbye, he'll always love him, and they can visit! They can see each other again!

And Tall says yes. That this isn't the end. It's... see you later, my love.

(...but they both know how violent it's getting between Wind and Shadow. It isn't safe to visit.)

It is the end. But neither can admit it.

But after Tall is a fair distance away, one of his kits tackles him.

POSSIBLY Post-Tallstar's Collapse

Not sure if I'd put these in a novella or still make it part of it, but these are all directly related to the fallout of Tallstar's Collapse

Most likely is that there would be overlap between this and Brokenstar's Cataclysm, so the same events would be seen in different perspectives.

The kit's name is Fly. Tall has to wait for him to catch his breath and stop crying before they can talk.

Fly already lost parents before. He says he knows he can't make his dads stay together, "But PLEASE, papa, let me choose where I go this time!"

How could he say no? How could he send his son away after a plea like that?

He told him it would be hard. That he would be trained. That there would be dangerous fights.

Fly didn't care, he said he could be strong. He could do anything he needed to.

So... Tall took him to WindClan, where he became Flypaw. He became the warrior he promised he would be.

And Tall didn't notice how much the kid was changing until it was too late. Flytail took to it as if he was Clanborn-- but had to work twice as hard, fight thrice as viciously.

Though Talltail was graced with an Honor Title and open arms, he'd adopted his greatest rival.

Fly and Tall started competing for deputyship as soon as they finished training apprentices; Heatherstar had a fondness for the two of them.

In the end, Talltail won the spot by springing into action and saving Heatherstar's young nephew, a little golden tabby, from an adder.

Flytail continued as one of the more aggressive warriors in the Clan, surviving increasingly violent and bitter battles, until it came to a head in Heatherstar's Last Stand.

Her final battle as an old leader was a gruesome, definitive curbstomp in the last strategic point ShadowClan held above Carrionplace.

One of the losses was Lizardstripe-- neck snapped in Flytail's jaws.

Runningnose, and by extension, the oak-tree to his long-shadow, Brokentail, remembered this. Especially when Runningnose's father Mudfoot collapsed later that year.

As Talltail took leadership from the dying Heatherstar, a familiar regretful guilt wormed into his belly.

His son Flytail stood with a bloody mouth, eyes wet with sorrow, looking down at the leader Talltail once loved almost as much. Appreciating her sacrifice.

(secretly he didnt choose Deadfoot as his deputy just for his honor title or the battle move he invented... he chose him because there was a shocked, sorrowful look in his eyes at the fallen shadowclan cat. Sympathy seems more honorable in this moment.)

Tallstar is a wise leader... but his fatal flaw is naivety. How could he think he'd bring his son into WindClan, and not see the boy grow into a ferocious Warrior?

And naivety is what he displayed when he offered Raggedstar a peace deal. WindClan would keep the land, but they would pay a small tax of rabbits over the winter.

It was unprecedented. It was merciful. It was stupid.

When the winter was over, what would stop them from pushing further south?

Would they trade back the frogs and the flax, come summer?

On the blood and bones of so many warriors? As if giving up was ever an option?

Brokentail killed his father to prevent him from taking the deal, and reawakened Ripplestar's War Tactics.

BURN the peat. KILL the prey. OFFENSE is defense. A dead warrior is 10 less claws. A dead apprentice is 1 less warrior.

Stolen kittens are 1 more warrior on your own side.

Tallstar paid the ultimate price for letting Flytail follow him home that day. On the night of the massacre, Flytail went down fighting alongside a mate and a daughter. Dogpiled by Tangleburr and her squadron in revenge for Lizardstripe and Mudfoot.

Tallstar's granddaughter Stoneclaw, made a warrior and sitting for her vigil on that night, was the sole survivor of the little family.

The event stopped her from speaking again, like she's still sitting vigil.

Tallstar is a character who almost broke free of the control of the Clans. For a brief moment of his life, he was free.

He thought maybe he could change things a little, protect his Clanmates from the battles by being part of them, have the Mothermouth Moorland and protect the peace at the same time. But you CAN'T.

You can't fix broken systems without fundamentally changing them. He thought he could be a nice warlord and that would work on the Clan whose territory he had inherited. Power acts through people just as much as they act through power.

And that's Tallstar. He who travels the world, yet is never able to go far enough. Always falling just a little short of the point, believing that love and mercy is enough while blissfully ignorant of the pressures of pride and power.

Into this role, as a successor to this leader, Onestar is unwillingly thrust.