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lucky-clover-gazette · 5 months ago

Text

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 3

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

The Regent’s forces were rivers of darker red, driving inroads into their lines, mingling their armies together, like a stream of blood hitting water, then diffusing.

He killed, and it was simply that men got out of his way, or were dead.

He had grown used to something that had been temporary, like the flash of exhilaration in a pair of blue eyes for a moment catching his own. All of that tangled together inside him, and tightened, through the killing, into a single hard knot.

something about the way this is written just hits me in the abandonment issues

‘If the Prince of Vere shows himself, I will kill him.’ Nikandros half spat the words.

nik private twitter venting moment #2

The ground was wet, his legs were mud-spattered above his knees—mud in dry summer, because the ground was blood.

i don’t know man i feel like after a point you have to just be like. hey. why are we doing this again? like yeah i get that fighting in a military force can be for A Cause but unless you’re directly involved in enacting ideological change, aren’t you basically just cannon fodder

On the far side of the field, he saw the flash of embroidered red. That is how Akielons win wars, isn’t it? Why fight the whole army, when you can just—

i’m guessing the part in italics in a previous laurent line, about damen killing auguste at marlas?

He used the little name that Damen had been called as a boy; the childhood name, reserved for intimates.

the fact that is was kastor specifically asking the veretians to call him that…

Damen realised that he was on his knees, his own chest heaving like the chest of his horse.

laurent’s horse will be glad to know that damen’s horse lived. because, as we all know, they’re in love

‘Over?’ The word grated out of him. All he could think was that if the Regent still lived, nothing was over.

it is interesting how, even when he thinks laurent screwed him over (see previous chapter), damen has this uncontrollable rage towards the regent rather than laurent. i think this has more to do with the regent killing his men and trying invade his country, though. and maybe just that it’s easier to hate him than laurent. “regent = bad” is something that’s easy for damen to comprehend right now, while laurent’s whole thing is a lot more confusing and intimate

And with returning awareness, he saw as if for the first time the bodies of the men that he had killed to get to the Regent’s decoy, and beyond that, the evidence of what he had done. The field was a rutted earthworks strewn with the dead. The ground was a churned mess of flesh, ineffective armour and riderless horses. Killing ceaselessly, for hours, he had not been aware of the scale of it, of what he had caused to happen here. He saw flashes behind his eyelids, faces of the men he’d killed. Those left standing were all Akielon; and they stared at Damen as at something impossible.

damen holy shit… i guess that’s one way to reclaim your authority. and he didn’t even mean it as a sign of intimidation, he just wanted to get to the “regent.” who by the way was just some random guy RIP

‘Find the highest-ranked Veretian still living and tell them they have leave to bury their dead,’ said Damen. There was a fallen Akielon banner on the ground beside him. ‘Charcy is claimed for Akielos.’ As he rose, Damen wrapped his hand around its wooden pole and planted it in the earth.

not sure if calling it an akielion victory despite the combined forces is just customary, or intentionally out of spite. i’m leaning on the former, since it’s damen and not laurent we're talking about

The herald came cantering across the devastated landscape on a white, glossy mare with a curved neck and a high, flying tail. Beautiful and untouched, he made a mockery of the sacrifice of the brave men on the field. His banner streamed out behind him, and its blazon was Laurent’s starburst, in blue and shining gold.

here is an excerpt from a post i made while reading king’s rising for the first time:

“damen when he realizes he’s not in a slow burn romance with problematic beginnings, but a complex psychological thriller in which the smartest fictional character i have ever personally encountered has decided to make his life a living hell and also they’re in love with each other but the psychological thriller stuff is way more important to his bitchy blonde nightmare malewife and he is SO down bad and just has to deal with laurent’s mean girls 4d chess petty nonsense bc it’s enrichment for him and damen will kill anyone who gets in laurent’s way and he can’t even pick up the very very VERY clear implications of laurent’s trauma that would probably allow them to reach some kind of vulnerability equilibrium in their relationship”

on a re-read, i think this is a great time to dig into that a little more ;)

SO what i love about so much of laurent’s choices in the next few chapters is the fact that much of what he says and does is entirely petty. like, yes there’s always strategy and trauma and depth as usual, but i think it’s not denying him depth to say that he is 20 years old, this is his first love in the midst of an extremely stressful and messy situation, and despite his own wishes he cannot prevent his emotions from affecting his actions. laurent has had control over so much of the situation with damen thus far, both with the power dynamics between them as master and “slave” and the fact that damen didn’t know that laurent knew who he was. but now laurent knows that damen knows, so all of his previous and future actions are going to be under damen’s scrutiny in that context. they’re equals now, and the secrets reinforcing laurent’s prior cognitive dissonance have dissolved. that leaves laurent vulnerable (especially after being tortured and genuinely letting damen down even if by accident) and emotional compromised (he has no choice but to see damen as damianos, and with that comes all of the auguste baggage and the fact that they’ve already fallen in love and had sex under different circumstances).

all that is to say, the next few chapters are laurent’s mean girls era. he is, again, still being smart and strategic (4d chess), and his feelings are valid and his trauma is real. however, he is also just being MEAN, for the same reasons classic high school movie mean girls tend to be: he feels insecure and vulnerable about his romantic attachment to damen, stressed out by the insane amount of power he definitely should not have, and self-righteous about all the ways the world has conspired against him. regina george might have been the villain of the movie, but she was the hero of her own story. janis and cady methodically dismantled her life as a popular, powerful, and confident person. that’s why she got revenge with the burn book instead of looking inward and acknowledging her own issues, of which there were many. she had a machiavellian view of life, in which mean people always won, and so being mean in retaliation was how she could protect herself from being a victim.

that is laurent’s perspective too, for a lot of this series. we don’t know anything about regina’s backstory, or heather chandler’s (another great example), but we do know exactly why laurent has the worldview he does. he used to be sweet and it made him a victim. so he is mean to protect himself, even if that robs him of his sweetness. damen’s integrity and honor have challenged laurent’s worldview, though, and that has been the source of a lot of laurent’s slow reconsideration. but now that laurent can’t just pretend that damen isn't damianos, now that he has to accept this situation in its full interpersonal and political messiness, he isn’t nearly as inspired. laurent assumes, now that laurent has gone “mask off,” that damen will realize that laurent doesn’t deserve the love he has shown him in the past. because laurent has been mean to damen, by lying about his awareness even at the times damen thought he was being earnest and sweet. that makes damen a victim and fool—two things laurent deeply fears being, and therefore assumes everyone else also fears in themselves. two things the regent had wanted laurent to consider himself, by placing damen in his life in the first place.

therefore, in his insecurity and vulnerability and anger, as a 20 year old just experiencing his first love, as someone with a lot of power and stress who cannot waste time or energy on genuinely confronting his own flaws in good faith, laurent is gearing up to be sososososo mean to damen specifically in the next few chapters. like comedically mean. aimlessly mean. pathetically mean. on purpose. ultimately, if he must be alone (which he obviously must, says laurent's brain), laurent would rather be the villain of someone else’s story than a victim in his own. that, at least, is similar to book 1 laurent—but while he was a cat playing with a mouse in book 1, in a position to do serious damage to his opponent, now he’s more like…. a cat, slapping another cat. evenly matched, but still throwing hands. transparently insecure and pathetic, only effective in doing emotional damage in ways he doesn’t intend. damen isn’t hurt by the petty things laurent says and does, because he sees through them for what they are. he’s hurt because laurent sees them as necessary to protect himself and keep his distance, when all damen wants is to make things okay between them. which laurent would never expect, because he assumes that damen wants nothing to do with him, and would be happier and better off if they stayed apart.

basically: unstoppable force (damen's persistent caring) meets unmovable object (laurent's refusal to be genuinely cared for). the only way for this cycle to end is for damen to choose to stop, or for laurent to choose to yield. laurent will eventually make that choice, but he still has to be a huge bitch about it first. he's going to lash out at damen and challenge him to stop caring, but ultimately fail—both because damen is just built different, and because he's lowkey written as a fantasy partner for emotionally volatile people with attachment and abandonment issues.

rest assured, laurent’s genre is still psychological thriller, but it’s also now a high school drama movie. and damen is about to get a bitter taste of that, with pretty much no choice in the matter. this poor man will have to deal with laurent’s bitchy theatrics as they try to co-parent an army, and he’s already too emotionally invested and aware of laurent’s habit of lashing out when he’s in pain to genuinely fight back.

this could also be called laurent’s s1 catra era, but i’m not sure what the venn diagram of capri and she ra enjoyers looks like. to those who get it—laurent is doing what catra did at princess prom for the next several chapters, down to the “hey adora” = “hello lover.” this dynamic is very fun to read because it doesn’t overstay its welcome. it’s different from laurent in book 1, or catra in general, because it’s so clearly pathetic, damen and laurent are on the same side of the war, and damen could technically make it stop at any point. so i think it’s very very fun, while it lasts >:)

The herald reined in in front of him. Damen looked at the mare’s shiny coat, not dirt-covered, not heaving or darkened with sweat, and then at the herald’s livery, in immaculate condition, unflecked by the dust of the road. He felt it rising at the back of his throat. ‘Where is he?’

damen showed up to the prom laurent planned with him to unite their rival high schools, only to find himself dateless and laurent’s promised fancy party decorations missing. this is the moment where damen checks snapchat (i was in high school from 2013-2017) and sees everyone from vere high at their own immaculately-decorated prom, where laurent is being crowned king. little does damen know, laurent was blindsided by the vere-only prom and forced via social pressure to be there since everyone elected him prom king. they’re mad at each other for a high school drama pacing-typical period of time, and then make up when they realize the misunderstanding and reassert their dedication to each other.

laurent did still murder someone with a chair, though. but like a metal folding chair from the band room

The herald’s back hit the ground. Damen had dragged him bodily from his horse into the dirt, where he lay dazed and winded, with Damen’s knee in his stomach. Damen’s hand was around his neck.

His grip tightened before it opened enough to allow the herald to speak. The herald rolled onto his side and coughed as Damen released him. He pulled something from inside his jacket. Parchment, with two lines on it. You have Charcy. I have Fortaine. He stared at the words, written in familiar, unmistakable handwriting. I’ll receive you at my fort.

lamen hr complaint #5 (unnamed herald): ragdolling this guy over what should be impersonal, professional correspondence

also, because i can't help myself:

Fortaine eclipsed even Ravenel, powerful and beautiful, its towers high-flung, its jutting crenelles biting the sky. It rose to a sheer, impossible height and, from every vantage, it was flying Laurent’s banners. The pennants seemed to float on the air effortlessly, patterned silk in blue and gold.

WELCOME HOME, BROTHER KILLER

Rows upon rows of peaked, coloured tents were pitched on the field outside Fortaine’s walls, the sun lighting the pavilions, the banners, and the silks of a graceful encampment. It was a city of tents, and it camped a fresh, intact force of Laurent’s men, who had not fought and died through the morning. The constructed arrogance of the display was intentional. It said, exquisitely: Did you exert yourself at Charcy? I have been here examining my nails.

this is funny and i wouldn’t put it past laurent, but also i’m not sure if he like. really meant this part of it specifically to piss damen off. he was just tortured idk he probably just wanted things nice. a good part of the fun of lamen divorce era is remembering that damen’s interpretation of events isn’t necessarily accurate, and that it’s hilarious how he interprets things as petty personal slights even when they might not be. they’re both so obsessed with each other and it’s great

Nikandros reined in alongside him. ‘Uncle and nephew are alike. They send other men to do their fighting for them.’

nik tweets this verbatim on priv (#3)

Damen was silent. What he felt in his chest was a hardness like anger. He looked at the elegant silken city and thought about men dying on the field at Charcy.

but not exactly anger—betrayal? heartache? self-consciousness?

Some kind of herald’s greeting party was riding towards them. He gripped the Regent’s bloody, torn banner in his hand.

the phrase “greeting party” just made me imagine them rolling up with like confetti and a speaker blasting the celebration song. while damen holds the bloody torn banner

‘Just me,’ said Damen, and put his heels into his horse. About halfway across the field, he was met by the herald, who arrived with an anxious party of four attendants saying something urgent about protocol. Damen listened to four words of it. ‘Don’t worry,’ said Damen. ‘He’s expecting me.’

lamen hr complaint #6 (more unnamed heralds): disregarding protocol

(also “he’s expecting me” girlllll)

Without even pulling off his gauntlets, he strode to the tent. He knew its high scalloped folds; he knew the starburst pennant. No one stopped him. Not even when he reached the tent and dismissed the soldier at the entrance with a single order: ‘Go.’ He didn’t bother to see if his order was obeyed. The soldier let him through: of course he did; this had all been planned. Laurent was ready for him whether he came docilely behind the herald or, as he did now, the dirt and the sweat of the battle still on him, blood dried in the places where a cursory swipe with a cloth had not reached it. He swept the tent flap back with an arm, and stepped inside.

again i do have to question, beyond the drama, how much of this is as intentional and petty as damen thinks it is. like, the heralds literally cite protocol, damen knows this is the correct way for a camp to be run. i think he is assuming a lot here, although it’s reasonable to do so. we have seen in the past that damen assumes things of laurent that laurent is just like, “uh. not everything i do is on purpose” about, or damen is just WRONG about. i just wonder if damen’s approach here confirms things laurent was worried about (damen thinking poorly of him now that they’re on even ground), further fueling the fire of his rejection-sensitive bitchiness. not that it’s an excuse, or even undeserved, but it’s good to remember that there are two sides to the story.

like to damen, this is an angry post-battle rush of a moment to confront laurent and speak his truth (he doesn’t know laurent knows who he is), but to laurent this is like. post-torture and escape, and basically being thrown into the deep end of vulnerability with damianos and what this all implies to auguste’s memory. we’re not getting the best or most rational version of either of them right now, which is great for the drama but also makes the narration less reliable

This was the place Laurent had chosen.

right. damen thinks laurent chose this place to hear the truth about him, because the “you have charcy” note implies that at some point laurent probably figured out that damen is damianos. therefore laurent chose this occasion for them to meet each other, as they truly are by birth, for the first time. damen just doesn’t know the twist that laurent has always known who he’s been, and has chosen everything else before now with that knowledge too

There were a few furnishings, low seats, cushions, and in the background a trestle table hung with its own coverings, and set with shallow bowls of sugared pears and oranges. As though they were going to nibble at sweetmeats.

the same guy who ordered the “sorry you were given a severed head and discovered a suicide” fruit basket in prince’s gambit had to order a “sorry i gaslighted you for 2 books but not really because you also technically gaslighted me” fruit basket in kings rising

He lifted his gaze from the table to the exquisitely attired figure leaned with a single shoulder against the tent pole, watching him.

lucky number laurent lean #13!

Laurent said, ‘Hello, lover.’

It was not going to be simple.

this being the follow-up line to “hello lover” is such a good combination of funny and tension-building. like laurent’s cunty tableau immediately put out damen’s fiery righteous indignation and now he’s just like “oh this is going to suck.”

He made himself breathe through that. ‘Your men think you’re a coward. Nikandros thinks that you deceived us. That you sent us to Charcy, and left us there to die by your uncle’s sword.’ ‘And is that what you think?’ said Laurent. ‘No.’ Damen said, ‘Nikandros doesn’t know you.’

this is really a testament to pacat’s cleverness, how in chapter 1 there are a lot of moments where it’s almost like damen is directly saying he thinks laurent screwed him over—nikandros and the herald saying it and him not disagreeing, him accepting the reality that laurent is not going to show up—but he never does truly say that he thinks the abandonment was on purpose. because he didn’t, and he doesn’t, which makes sense. but he’s still angry and confused and also just concerned about how laurent is taking the “news” that he’s damianos. how much of damen’s anger about laurent’s composed appearance is projection of his anxiety about laurent seeing him as he truly is, a powerful authority figure in his own right who just won a battle against insane odds?

it’s so ambiguously written that it’s almost like pacat WANTS us to spiral. which i did, and will probably continue to do, so well-played. these books are like evil catnip to anxious overthinking theater people with attachment issues and an interest in understanding complex fictional situations to cope with the fact that real life never makes enough sense. also kinky gays but let's be real that's just a trojan horse for the other stuff

‘And you do.’ Damen looked at the arrangement of Laurent’s weight, the careful way he was holding his body. Laurent’s left hand was still casually resting against the tent pole. Deliberately, he stepped forward, and clasped Laurent’s right shoulder. Nothing, for a moment. Damen tightened his grip, and ground in with his thumb. Harder. He watched Laurent turn ashen. Finally, Laurent said, ‘Stop.’

proving that he knows laurent well enough to pick up from his posture alone exactly where he’s been injured. also they’re both so messy, like let’s put pressure on each other’s literal and figurative wounds instead of just talking about our misconceptions and feelings, awesome

He let go. Laurent had wrenched back and was clutching his shoulder, where the blue of his doublet had darkened. Blood, welling up from some newly bandaged, subterranean place, and Laurent was staring at him, his eyes oddly wide. ‘You wouldn’t break an oath,’ said Damen, past the feeling in his chest. ‘Even to me.’

damen proving to himself, and proving to laurent, that he knows that laurent didn’t screw him over, and instead was injured and failed to show up. laurent is shocked by how quickly damen picked up on this. also ow

He had to force himself back.

he doesn’t want to see laurent in pain, or know that he’s causing it :( which is especially unfortunate given the conversation they’re about to have about damen murdering laurent’s brother

Laurent didn’t answer. He still had a hand clutched to his shoulder, his fingers sticky with blood. Laurent said, ‘Even to you?’

“you wouldn’t break an oath, even to me” (“even to me” being a sort of freudian slip, meaning “i killed your brother, and i’ve known that this whole time and i haven’t told you, and you have a good reason to hate me for that”) “even to you?” (to damen’s incomplete understanding: “well i know who you are now, and if i’d known before i would have broken every oath to you i’ve ever made”)

He made himself look at Laurent. The truth was an awful presence in his chest.

babygirl it’s about to get so much awfuller

He thought of the single night they had spent together. He thought of Laurent, giving himself, dark-eyed and vulnerable, and of the Regent, who knew how to break a man.

damen totally sees laurent as his “victim” right now, set up well by him re-opening laurent’s physical wound. damen fucked this man while knowing that he (damen) killed his (laurent’s) brother, and put trust in him. if they were normal, or this was a normal story, that’s where the confrontation would end. it would be that simple—damen didn’t mean to hurt laurent but still did, and laurent has to forgive him for that, and forgive himself for being fooled—and then it would get tearfully resolved because they love each other so much that it doesn't matter. but they are not normal, and this is not a normal story, so…

Outside, two armies were poised to fight. The moment was here, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He remembered the Regent’s constant suggestion: Bed my nephew. He had done that, wooed him, won him. Charcy, he saw, hadn’t mattered to the Regent. It hadn’t meant anything. The Regent’s real weapon against Laurent had always been Damen himself.

damen thinks the regent’s plan had been to weaken laurent by putting him in circumstances where he’d unknowingly make himself vulnerable with his brother’s killer, triggering him emotionally and destroying his judgment. i'm pretty sure that this was basically his intention, but had also made sure that it would also torture laurent even if he did recognize damen on the spot.

personally i think the regent knew that laurent knew in book 1 through observing his reaction, but had planned for both possibilities in advance. what he hadn't expected, though, was for laurent and damen to start genuinely working together instead of against each other. this happens early as the thing with patras, and really pops off during the botched assassination attempt.

charcy was meant to drive a wedge between them, to correct the regent's previous miscalculation. and given the inevitable truth damen must now reveal, there's nothing he can really do to stop laurent from being upset.

‘I’ve come to tell you who I am.’ Laurent was so keenly familiar, the shade of his hair, the strapped down clothing, the full lips that he held tense or cruelly repressed, the ruthless asceticism, the unbearable blue eyes. ‘I know who you are, Damianos,’ said Laurent. Damen heard it, as the interior of the tent seemed to change, so that all of the objects in it took on a different shape. ‘Did you think,’ said Laurent, ‘I wouldn’t recognise the man who killed my brother?’

the way i YELLED during my first read. i remember even like posting something before, like “oh my god damen just tell him put this poor man out of his misery,” and then after i got to this part i immediately went and deleted that post

Each word was an ice chip. Painful, sharp; a shard. Laurent’s voice was perfectly steady.

do you think he practiced this?

‘I knew in the palace, when they dragged you in front of me,’ said Laurent. The words continued, steady, relentless. ‘I knew in the baths when I ordered you flayed. I knew—’

he definitely practiced this

‘At Ravenel?’ said Damen.

“you knew when you kissed me and let me fuck you????”

‘If you knew,’ said Damen, ‘how could you—’ ‘Let you fuck me?’ His own chest hurt, so that he almost didn’t notice the signs of it in Laurent, the control, the face, pale at any time, now white.

he almost didn’t notice the signs, which means he still totally did. because even now, damen is attentive and caring towards laurent

‘I needed a victory at Charcy. You provided it. It was worth enduring,’ Laurent spoke the terrible, lucid words, ‘your fumbling attentions for that.’

LIARRRRRRR

It hurt so much it took the breath from his throat. ‘You’re lying.’ Damen’s heart was pounding. ‘You’re lying.’ The words were too loud. ‘You thought I was leaving. You practically threw me out.’ He said it, as the realisation blossomed inside him. ‘You knew who I was. You knew who I was the night we made love.’

tbh i think this kind of realization would make me have a panic attack on the spot. also do you think this is the kind of betrayal he’s been trying so hard to avoiding confronting, coming from kastor and jokaste? but here he has no choice to confront it, because laurent is forcing him to understand the depths of the deception. no avoiding it now

He thought of Laurent surrendering, not the first time, but the second, the slower, sweeter time, the tension in him, the way he had— ‘You weren’t making love to a slave, you were making love to me.’

very true, but laurent isn’t ready to deal with it. he can’t keep up the cognitive dissonance in the present, but that doesn’t mean he’s about to accept that it was real in the past. instead he’ll just lash out.

And he couldn’t think that through clearly but he could catch a glimmer of it, a glimmer of the edge of it. ‘I thought you wouldn’t, I thought you’d never—’

OF COURSE damen suspected, at some points, that laurent knew. but this tells us that he’d ultimately dismissed the notion because it would have been insane for laurent to kiss and fuck him, while knowing his real identity. “i thought you wouldn’t, i thought you’d never—“

this is similar to how i thought about it during my first read—i suspected for all of book 1, and some of book 2, but then figured that the story was taking a different direction because how the hell could the plot points of “laurent knows who damen is” and “laurent makes himself vulnerable to damen and does a romance/sex about it” possibly be compatible? laurent, a deeply traumatized and self-protective person, wouldn’t and would never. except i underestimated laurent’s capacity for self-delusion, and overestimated the amount of control he truly has over his emotions and impulses, beneath all the posturing. damen, here, is recognizing that he’s made similar miscalculations, and now he’s seeing laurent as he truly is. they’re both seeing each other, truly, for the first time.

‘Laurent, six years ago, when I fought Auguste, I—’ ‘Don’t you say his name.’ The words were forced out of Laurent. ‘Don’t you ever say his name, you killed my brother.’

i like the simplicity of this. just the plainness of “you killed my brother.” laurent’s language is so often clever and cagey and embellished, but that last sentiment is raw and informal, and what we the reader are probably screaming in our heads. because yeah, holy shit, damen killed laurent’s brother. it’s a pretty hard thing to argue against, or ignore. “you lied to me” “you killed my brother” “you flogged me” “you killed my brother” “you forgot to do the dishes” “you killed my brother”

Laurent was breathing shallowly, almost panting as he spoke, his hands rigid on the edge of the table behind him.

his practiced words are saying one thing, but his body is very obviously having a panic attack. this scene isn’t nearly as much of a laurent mean girl moment as it seemed during a rushed first read. that’s actually kind of a relief to me, bc it made me sad to interpret him as so heartless and unfazed the first time around. even if “hello lover” is an iconic moment, it’s a performance more than anything else. and pacat shows us this sooner than i recalled or first perceived. she’s not torturing us, the reader, as much as she’s torturing both damen and laurent. and it’s not even like a lazy misunderstanding kind of torture, this is genuinely complicated and they’re both in the wrong and they both are justified in this pain and hurt. i just couldn’t see that as well the first time, having binged like all of book 2 already and having no idea what would happen next and honestly just being shocked and betrayed and compelled by the massive mislead with laurent’s awareness of the situation

‘Is that what you want to hear, that I knew who you were and I still let you fuck me, my brother’s killer, who cut him down like an animal on the field?’

you know he doesn’t, laurent, that’s just what you’re telling yourself now that you’re forced to confront it. you started this scene with “hello lover” and your prepared speech, hoping to destroy damen emotionally, but once again you’ve just kinda played yourself. maybe just cool it with the emotional gambits for now, when it comes to damen, bc they only really seem to come back and hurt you (oh fuck he can’t hear me)

‘Shall I ask you how you did it? What he looked like when your sword went in?’ ‘No,’ said Damen.

laurent, shaking, pale, looks like he’s about to pass out: “you bastard, tell me about how you murdered my brother as i think about the fact that i let you fuck me in a similar way, go ahead just make it hurt more”

damen, not a therapist but still emotionally intelligent enough to know this isn’t really about punishing him: no, i don’t think i will. can you like sit down

‘Or shall I tell you about the illusion of the man who gave me good counsel. Who stood by me. Who never lied to me.’ ‘I never lied to you.’

that italicized “i” is interesting. is it an accusation of laurent’s own lying and hypocrisy, or a specification that damen never directly told laurent he wasn’t damianos? given damen’s well-established integrity, i’m guessing it’s the first option. again with the mutual moral arbitration. and damen wouldn’t want to take such a weak a cop-out as “well i never technically said it,” it’s just not typical of his character.

The words were awful in the silence that followed them. ‘“Laurent, I am your slave”?’ said Laurent. He felt the breath forced out from his lungs.

of course laurent takes it as the second option, though, and implies that by swearing himself to laurent and then bedding him damen was directly lying about his identity. because to laurent, damen =/= damianos. a slave can’t be a prince. so damianos, the prince, must have been intentionally lying about being damen, the slave. and that’s actually easier, and less painful, and less complicated to accept than any kind of nuanced alternative.

‘Don’t,’ he said, ‘talk about it like—’ ‘Like?’ ‘Like it was cold-blooded; like I controlled it. Like we didn’t both close our eyes and pretend I was a slave.’ He made himself say the exposing words. ‘I was your slave.’

he’s right. nothing much to add here. damen wasn't just literally laurent's slave, he had devoted himself emotionally as well, and he's admitting it here despite the fact that it makes him vulnerable—something laurent is too much of a (traumatized, understandable) coward to do himself. i love damen's characterization so much

‘There was no slave,’ said Laurent. ‘He never existed. I don’t know what manner of man stands before me now. All I know is that I am facing him for the first time.’ ‘He is here.’ His flesh ached as if he had been prised open. ‘We are the same.’

this gives us some insight to laurent’s actions in book 1—not necessarily excusing them, but making them fit better into what we’ve since learned about his moral code. it ties things together, which isn’t the same as making them simpler or easier to like. pacat is very very VERY good at establishing continuous moral ambiguity in her characters, and does not rush the slow burn of making ends meet. so when she does eventually begin to connect things, it’s satisfying, because it hasn’t been all been spelled out the whole time so readers don’t have to think for themselves. this, in reference to a lot of the series’s more problematic themes, is exactly why i think people end up seeing capri as apologism or glamorization. but by claiming that, i also think they’re exposing themselves as impatient, shallow, and (sorry) simply lazy.

but i don't just want to be reductive and uncharitable, because that would be shallow and lazy too. to be perfectly clear, i honestly can't blame people for disliking this series, and not being willing or able to have patience and understanding for its more problematic elements. this series is marketed as romance/erotica. it started as indulgent kink fic. it ended up evolving into its current state during its development—and i'm really glad it did, but that doesn't change the fact that so much of its marketing and premise imply certain things that it doesn't quite deliver. and if you look up the series today, as it's still being published years after its completion, it's still marketed in a way i find somewhat misleading. to the extent that when i picked it up, it was in an intentional attempt to expand my own horizons—i wanted to challenge myself with indulgent shameless problematic porn/romance, as opposed to the weak-ass "enemies" to lovers running rival bakeries gay romance novels with canva covers that haven't worked for me in the past. the logic was basically, "well, if i don't like romance on that side of the scale, maybe i'll like the opposite extreme, or at least learn more about what i don't like." and i did feel pretty challenged during book 1, to the point that for a while i only kept reading out of morbid curiosity and vague horniness rather than any genuine expectation of depth or satisfying storytelling. it was only around the assassination scene in book 1 that i started to see the book as something capable of more depth and intrigue than just like kinky debauchery, and it pretty much just snowballed from there. and as someone who frequently reads about these dark topics in other genres and contexts, i was familiar enough with the things happening on the page to at least stomach them and push foward.

however, if i was coming at the series from a different place—like if i loved cozy romance and had very little familiarity with reading about these topics—i can see the first book especially being very blindsiding and distressing, and not wanting to engage with it further. that's not laziness, it just means that the book wasn't for me.

and the nuance doesn't end there. one of the things i love most about this series is that, even if i was just looking for shameless slavekink porn and decidedly did not want to rise to the occasion of depth or thematic exploration, i would also walk away unsatisfied. because the truly problematic shit in these books is not shameless at all, and indulgence never comes without a cost. there are a few distasteful moments that make me roll my eyes, and the garden scene definitely prompts a Conversation—but as a whole, i think pacat is very aware of the moral implications of these themes. and i also think she's perfectly aware of the fact that many people get off on them.

this series almost feels like an accidental study of, like, the psychological implications of being a person compelled by dub-con and problematic kink, finding a sort of gratification in situations where those things ar kind of inevitable (like they are for damen in book 1). AND this is made even more complicated and brave by the fact that laurent is, very relevantly, a victim of serious sexual assault. like, as hot as some of the scenes in this book are, i really don't think it makes itself easy for people to just uncritically get themselves off to. it doesn't encourage shame, but it does encourage introspection. and a lot of people simply don't read erotica and romance to introspect. (couldn't be me though. if it isn't clear, i love the laurent of vere "having insane mindfucking sex fully clothed across the room" approach to eroticism).

i feel like it's actually kind of funny that i specifically got here, as a person who almost always reads books that force dark introspection, and assumed that this erotica/romance book would be mindless, but ended up with gestures vaguely instead. for me, coming across this series and realizing what it truly is was an incredibly happy accident. but for others, i completely understand how it could be the exact opposite, and it's not lazy or shallow to realize that you misunderstood what you were getting yourself into and step away.

what is lazy and shallow, though, is to either DNF and review based on those misconceptions, or keep reading simply to fuel your own disdain and discomfort. ultimately, i think that the true error of people who walk into capri wanting shameless porn or untroubling romance is the fact that they keep reading, even when it becomes clear that the book isn't doing that. and then they decide to evaluate the book based on expectations and standards that aren't the ones the author or fans have for the work itself. people seem to take out their anger towards the SUBJECTS of slavery or rape in fiction themselves on capri, rather then the way capri specifically portrays them. either because they fucking stopped reading the book and just wanted to go on a tangent on the topics in general, or hate-read to confirm their own pre-existing bias.

my point is, nobody has to read things that trigger or upset them, and it's okay to just pass on fictional stuff that makes you feel bad or frustrated. aspects of this series made me feel bad and frustrated, even on re-read, but i enjoy the intellectual and emotional exercise of exploring those feelings and better understanding the true meaning and purpose of the art. but there are certain topics in other works of fiction that i'm unwilling to explore, which would cause me to simply stop reading, and if asked for a review i'd just say that i'm not the right person to say. and there have been many times where i've continued reading a book, hoping it would change directions, and ended up just being like, "yeah, that wasn't for me," and moving on.

the exchange "there was no slave, he never existed" "here is here, we are the same" is almost a meta-commentary on the reception of the series as a whole. it would be dishonest to deny how this series started, and some of the themes and subjects it intentionally confronts. you can't say "there was no slave [kink], [it] never existed" because the narrative proceeded to be more of a commentary on kink rather than an uncritical display of it. kink, and dark topics in fiction in general, do all have depth, and while they might not be for everyone, they are for someone. exploring that depth is entirely optional, and i understand why people with certain experiences don't want anything to do with that exploration. but our personal tastes don't change the fact that subjects like slavery and rape exist, and that reality is inseparable from the stories that come from it. ultimately, the choice is whether we're willing to take that specific reality thoughtfully on, or else just walk away.

the people i have the hardest time with are the ones who choose neither of those options. like, what do you even get out of continuing to read something that you're unwilling to explore in good faith, or that you straight-up hate? just read something else. we only have so much time in the day. stop wasting yours, and stop wasting the time of people who actually enjoy the thing with your useless bad-faith criticism. sorry this tangent has totally departed from the chapter itself, but that really is what pisses me off so much about current-day online book culture. like, i'm thinking about all of those smug-looking booktubers making 2 hour videos called "i read [name of book that doesn't appeal to the lowest common denominator of people] so you don't have to." i know how long it takes to read books thoughtfully, and then to write, film, and edit videos. maybe stop wasting your own time and dig into something you love instead, or even try to make your own thing, and just hope that some smug asshole on the internet doesn't decide to do to your work what you've done to other people's work. but no, lazy cynicism and appealing to the easy gimmick of cringe is way more profitable, i guess. and it makes you less vulnerable to people criticizing work that came from your soul, because the work you're creating is completely soulless.

anyway. i wonder what kind of totally normal things damen and laurent are up to in the chapter i'm annotating

‘Kneel then,’ said Laurent. ‘Kiss my boot.’

"if you really are still a slave, even though we both know you’re a king, then do a demeaning slave thing right now"

He looked into Laurent’s excoriating blue eyes. The impossibility of it was like a sharp pain. He couldn’t do it. He could only gaze at Laurent across the distance between them. The words hurt. ‘You’re right. I’m not a slave,’ he said.

can’t indulge in the kink anymore by circumstantial necessity, but i’m sure they’ll find something even weirder to do instead on purpose

‘I am the King.’ He said, ‘I killed your brother. And now I hold your fort.’ As he spoke, Damen drew out a knife. He felt rather than saw all of Laurent’s attention swing to it. The physical signs were small: Laurent’s lips parted, his body tensed. Laurent didn’t look at the knife. He kept his eyes on Damen, who looked right back at him. ‘So you will parley with me as with a king, and you will tell me why you called me here.’ Deliberately, Damen tossed the knife onto the floor of the tent.

okay this is just extra of him, but i mean laurent got to do “hello lover” so damen deserves to be dramatic too as a treat. i also like what this symbolizes, as opposed to their previous knife moments. as defined by their stations, they don’t have a power imbalance anymore, and they don’t have a reason to be enemies. they are a prince and a king, not a master and a slave. they are military allies, teaming up against the regent. any power imbalance and beef they have now is emotional, complicated, and abstract, nothing clear-cut (haha) enough to be represented by an instrument of simple violence like a knife. and damen summarizes this perfectly, in the context of their previous knife moments, by viscerally reminding laurent of those encounters and then just tossing the thing across the room.

honestly, i bet laurent feels jealous of the clever performative gesture. and maybe a little turned on, too, despite the horrors. that’s a fun reversal.

‘Didn’t you know?’ said Laurent. ‘My uncle is in Akielos.’

yeah, he got a really good all-inclusive deal at the akielion sandals resort and needed a vacation after all of the murder and [redacted]

#sam reads capri #capri #captive prince #kings rising #laurent of vere #damen of akielos #lamen #i go on a long rant about capri's reputation and current day book reviewer culture in this one

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greensun · 1 year ago

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THE BIG QSMPSTUCK LOREDUMP AKA: I finally get to do all the lorebabble I wanted to do.

EDIT (11/1/2023): THIS VERSION IS NOW OUT OF DATE AND DOES NOT INCLUDE THE PEOPLE IN THE ICE CUBES. I AM CURRENTLY REWORKING PARTS OF THIS BUT MOST SHOULD STAY THE SAME FOR THE NEW POSTS SANS BAGHERA, KAMETO, AND DANTDM'S CLASSPECTS! LOOK FORWARD TO UPDATED POSTS IN THE FUTURE.

SOME NOTES: 1. I have a very specific version of qsmpstuck going on with my art I make that I made with a group of friends (thanks Slimercord!) 2. There are other people who made other classpects and takes on QSMP characters that are more character based, mine is not that case, it looks at how QSMP as a whole would work as a full sburb session, and balancing how many people would be on each aspect or class to carry that motif of Homestuck's balancing/equal duality theme. This means I am looking at and using Classpects as a narrative & plot device, not necessarily a personality test like how someone would classpect a real person (This is how the Extended Zodiac works, and why I choose to ignore it for character classpecting. It works great for classpecting real life people though, so by all means you can use the EZ for you and your friends!). 3. AND WITH THAT! It means two people per aspect and and class, with the exception of space and time having three people, and knights and heirs having three people. 4. FAIR WARNING: IF YOU HAVE NEVER READ HOMESTUCK, THERE IS LOTS OF DEATH IN IT, WITH LOTS OF RESURRECTIONS. I WILL BE DISCUSSING DEATH IN A VERY JOKING MANNER HERE! 5. For posterity in case things change in the future: This post was made August 2nd 2023, after the French were added, and right before the Election arc finished. I'm sure if I came back to this after QSMP is over my classpecting would be different. (Updated August 20, 2023)

I'll add this again at the bottom but if you want more of my notes and thought processes or just more qsmpstuck in general here's the link to my tag for all qsmpstuck on this blog, and here's the link to all qsmpstuck on my regular mcyt blog. (my regular blog includes other people's qsmpstuck takes & reblogs however! But every classpect analysis I reblogged in there w/ an anonymous ask sent to the OP was me on anon lol)

HERE WE GO! The big ol google doc sheet I had to make for this. Every note on that godtier order list is how we decided the character would godtier, and we still aren't even technically done! I have so much information built up for this AU I am not sure I could include all of it in this post.

CLASSPECTS

Anyway, in terms of classpects, the way we went about deciding was 1. Finding symbolic meanings we felt fit the characters best 2. If the classpect was funny and had a fun double entendre to the character 3. If we really struggled, we went and picked up Dahni Witch of Light's classpect analyses and found which class fit a character best within an aspect we had a vague idea of. I find Dahni's analyses to be the best at classpecting non-homestuck characters with, because they give enough leeway in interpretation and are somewhat broad, while still applying as a fictional character's story arc, rather than solely a personality test. We also basically ignored most classpect's assigned "role" concept thingy, they were too nebulous in meaning to help much, with the only ones we kept being Sylphs are the passive creation class with Maids as the active creation class, and then Bards are passive destruction, Princes are active destruction.

AND NOW BACK TO THE CUBES YOU CARE ABOUT: As stated before, we did lay it out so we (mostly) only had two per aspect and class, to get that true fan session balancing spirit. Space/time and knight/heir are the only ones with three members. Here's how the outfits look!

My favorites here & their reasonings are: - Etoiles: Sylph of Blood - We all agreed him getting a classpect that is at least somewhat silly would be fitting, but all immediately came to the conclusion that he would hands down be a blood player. From his love of fighting, and the way he goes about befriending everyone he meets to help them, he's just so blood player. To balance out our initial silly classpecting idea, we made him a Sylph! It fits, like, really well! He creates friendship, he helps people, like. What more could you want from a classpect for him. - Mariana: Maid of Doom - I sent these two asks to this other person about this and liked their reasonings lol. - Spreen: Prince of Breath - Look I'm a Spreengirl I think he would play a great active destruction class and he takes away other's freedom (in minecraft). He kills people. He's just so Prince to me. It's really funny. - BBH: Knight of Life - Do you know how funny it is to take a guy who's whole thing is that he's like entirely black and red themed and put him in the burlap sack outfit. Also Knight & Space player frog breeding combo. He's working with Foolish on those frogs. - Foolish: Page of Space - This guy is the ultimate builder of all time ever. He was hands down the easiest to look at and go Oh he is THE space player here. - Fit: Prince of Space - Y'know 2b2t and hacked clients and griefing people? Prince of Space. Plus since he's a space player, soooo - Philza: Knight of Rage - Another great Space & Knight combo. This guy is such a hater on QSMP (positive) he doubts easily distrusts whenever necessary. Such a rage player. - Missa: Bard of Time - Missa is really failgirl I know quite a few people haven't like... watched much of his MC stuff. However you should check out when he had to be placed in a box to fish by himself so he wouldn't die a third time in Minecraft Extremo. He's a perfect Bard, and then he does music. Great set up for a Time player. Wouldn't want it any other way. - Antoine: Seer of Void - truly. Truly. A guy I looked at for two minutes and immediately knew what classpect he needed. That scene where he just like lightly questioned Cellbit after he escaped the federation and it made Cellbit so nervous he started just saying things that made him look way more nervous than necessary? Core Antoine moment for me. The fact he has a basement filled with so much writing on every candidate? The fact he hides his true face so much? We don't even know what's going on there? Void Player. Seer. So fitting it's beautiful to me. - Felps: Maid of Breath - Look, breath is THE aspect of freedom and doing what you want at your own pace. I think I would be committing a cardinal sin if I DIDN'T make Felps a breath player. - Tazercraft: Witch of Doom & Page of Time - They get to do a fucked up glitch timeloop. With these two classpects they can literally do whatever they want forever. Witch of Doom is a classpect that you give to a character if you know they can rip everything to shreds, have fun doing it, but wouldn't (usually) use it to actively hurt people out of true malice (for no reason) (a witch can DEFINITELY respond negatively if push comes to shove). Page of Time is so funny as a classpect also. Just like... Look up what the Page godtier outfit looks like. You'll see what I mean... And why Pac is a page. - Rubius: Waste of Breath - This classpect sounds really mean, sorry. I promise I like Rubius. He's supposed to be a stand in for what the Hussie author insert was in Homestuck, opposing Doc Scratch and fighting him. Hussie was a Waste of Space, I wanted to keep the pun with waste here. Breath worked the best. The federation has a Lord of Blood ability to counter him. Neither of these two count for the main classpect total.

One day I might post a copy of the google sheet and link it for more in-depth reasonings for every character, but like... almost everyone had reasonings like this where we spent waaay too long analyzing everyone LMAO. This is getting long as is, so I'll cut off classpecting here.

DREAMING MOONS

I am about to say something that will make people either really mad or really happy. There is no canon true definition of what assigns you a dreaming moon in Homestuck's text. The only thing we can glean from canon about which moon you get is that Prospit humans make their bed in the morning, and Derse humans don't. Needless to say, this doesn't help when you want to individually give each person a dreaming moon, but it IS great news for me: it makes assigning dreaming moons based on dividing the cast in half really, really easy. That is how it worked for the troll session, it was cut in half with teams, and then assigned based on red team vs blue team. So that is what I did here. All of the English speakers were given Prospit, and all of the Hispanic side were given Derse. This has lore relevance. We'll get back to it in a moment.

Also for note, the Federation is Prospit, with Dersite carapacians being a more nebulous identity against the Federation. Hispanic side was given Derse because they just seem more like Derse guys. Plus the whole Time on Derse/Space on Prospit theme going on in original HS canon is something I kinda wanted to go along with.

Quackity was given dual dreamer, with one of his dreamselves being ElQuackity, hence why he isn't listed. To balance this, we had to make another dual dreamer, and figured handing it to Kameto, who basically is permanently lost in the void, would be a good balance.

The French and Brazilian sessions were assigned using the "well this character would make sense here" method.

Server/Client Orders & Session Chains

If anyone needs a brief refresher, a client is the person you get into a sburb session, and a server is the person gets you into the session. Everyone is a client and a server to someone different. (tl;dr John was Rose's client, Rose was John's Server.) THAT BEING SAID! It means the loop for sessions close once you're all connected to both a client and a server. There are three separate sessions here, and one of them is a mobius double reacharound.

For clarity, the arrows mean: Client <- Server

The Original session, the mobius double reacharound, is the Spanish-English session. The order is

Quackity <- Mariana <- Spreen <- Roier <- Missa <- Vegetta <- Maxo <- Luzu (<- BBH)

BBH <- Foolish <- Slimecicle <- Jaiden <- DanTDM <- Fit <- Philza <- Wilbur (<- Quackity)

Because of the nature of a Mobius Double Reacharound, it means BBH and Quackity enter the session first, by technicality. The first person in a session is also the person who does the ectobiology. Unlike the troll session which only had Karkat as the ectobiologist, if Q!Quackity were the sole ectobiologist, no clones would be made and everyone would be stuck in a paradox, so I think it's funnier if BBH and Q had to work together on Ectobiology. I find their dynamic hilarious. Anyway, Luzu and Wilbur had to be the last in their respective chains, because no one else would be able to enter.

The next chain is the Brazilian closed Session, which is

Forever <- Mike <- Pac <- Felps <- Cellbit (<- Forever)

As previously mentioned, Pac e Mike (uou uou) have very good classpects to make up for the fact they have no space player. I'll come back to this.

The final chain is the French closed session. It goes

Baghera <- Antoine <- Etoiles <- AyPierre <- Kameto (<- Baghera)

They have balanced moons! They have a space player! They have a seer even! Both light and void! However, in missing a time player, they are forever doomed to fail the session.

LANDS OF PLANETS AND PARTNERS

Now I can finally explain actual lore. My apologies for making you read about 1000 words before this.

The Hispanic-English session is glitched. There is not a planet for each person. They have to share planets with a person from the opposite dreaming moon, generating lands that are a combination of two different aspects entirely. The planetary pairings for this prime session are the same pairings used for the initial egg pairings.

I really love designing lands for Sburb AUs it's my favorite thing in the world. The first one is the Land of Acid and Alcohol, Slimecicle (Heir of Heart) and Mariana's (Maid of Doom) land. Its oceans are acid and gasoline, and then covered in bottles that are a Russian roulette of alcoholic beverages, and then Molotov cocktails! The second is the Land of Steam and Dreams, Roier (Witch of Blood) and Jaiden's (Seer of Hope) land. It's filled with buildings built in an industrial revolution style architecture, playing on how people could believe in social mobility and "making it" in that time period, while also being reliant on heavy metallic machinery! I have a lot of fun conceptualizing lands.

The session's glitches don't stop at the planetary pairings on their own however, and it continues when Luzu attempts to enter the session. The session glitches from him being BBH's client, where it refuses to match pairings if they're connected directly, as the game would be unable to generate the gates above each player's house, it would simply loop back to connecting with the same Land. Luzu ends up being paired onto Quackity's land because of this, because the Game still detects him as having a dreamself on the opposite moon, even if he technically has both.

This causes BBH and Wilbur's land to glitch, and they end up paired together (as a bit of a nod back to how BBH and Wilbur were initially intended to be paired, before admins just made a new egg for Wilbur). We'll get back to this in a bit.

Some other lands from the AH session I enjoy are - The Land of Lush Forests and Iridescent Lakes, also known as LOLFAIL, BBH and Wilbur's land, which is a double Life player land, so the oceans are filled with gemstones and the land is covered in the most dense forest imaginable. It has the most difficult underlings spawn on it compared to any other land in the Anglo-Hispanic session. - The Land of Frogs and Typhoons, Spreen and Fit's land, which every space player is guaranteed frogs as part of their land, combined with Spreen being a breath player, it is a constant hurricane with frogs in it. They do not work on trying to calm the storm. They just start killing the frogs. There are so many frogs. The frogs are constantly flying at anyone who enters the land. Fit's slogan is FTF. Thank you to crow qsmp-yaoi for saying this idea because it truly brings me to tears every time I think about them being hit by those frogs flying at Mach 10. - The Land of Synapses and Static, Maxo and DanTDM's land. It's a darkened land, caused by Maxo's void, and then covered in a blanket of constant fog so thick a lighthouse can barely cut through it. The land also has mimicking noises to make familiar sounds to any player that steps on it, caused by Dan's Mind. It is an overbearingly lonely land. One where you understand what it truly feels like to be alone. One where you can lose someone as soon as you take your eyes off of them. Maxo last saw Dan on this land. No one else has seen him since.

I'm going to stop myself here, but I might come back and draw some more Land illustrations for these, haha.

Denizeggs

With the planetary partners, you might have seen this coming. Each planet in the combined session is missing a Denizen. Instead, what each player finds at the heart of the land is a little egg they need to help raise. They all find eggs at different points, however. Some people find their egg before they godtier, some find them afterward.

All of the eggs correspond to the land of their respective parents, however Luzu joins into the session too late to ever meet Tilin, second to last of the chain, she's already dead by that point.

And then the final major glitch in starting this session, when Wilbur joins as the final member of the chain, and enters, the only land open is BBH's land. Due to the nature of Sburb already knowing how things would end, it was always going to be this way, and there was no other option on who's planet he would join. The game glitches again, and detecting a second Prospit player, spawns in a new Denizen: Tallulah.

The eggs generally follow how they were in QSMP proper. Some of them die early. Some of them don't. Juanaflippa is as tragic as she is in canon. Two dads who are just bad at raising a child and it would have never worked out. Slime still kills Tilin by accident. Spreen doesn't care about Ramon, ditched him etc you know how it goes. The eggs are partially a planet quest too, so it's best if the eggs do live here.

Also in the glitches with this, there's a lack of consorts on any of the combined planets. There are a few, but not really as common as canon proper would have.

BRAZIL! 🇧🇷

The Brazil Session is a closed session between the five Brazilians. One of the requirements to complete Sburb is that you need a Space player (required to have forge in order to complete the final genesis frog & launch it into creating a new universe) and a Time player (required to keep the session in the proper timeline). The Brazilians have a time player (Pac), so they're halfway there!

There's some hiccups along the way. Mostly just Cellbit accidentally killing Felps and having to sprite him so Mike could make him a robot body to live in, but same old same old etc. Pac and Mike also kill each other by accident, but some other stuff happens there.

They still don't have the main aspect to actually continue the session, realize this, and also have a guy with one of the most conceptually powerful classpects to exist in terms of being able to glitch a game and save everyone. They manage to contact the primary session, reaching out to two grieving parents who are desperate to do anything to revive their daughter, one of whom is also a very powerful Doom player.

Brazilian Lands (brief edition)! - Land of Vultures and Culture, Forever's land, is a Hope land based around having Forever work to help save consorts who are hiding beneath intense structures and live in very isolate communities from each other. There's also massive megafauna in the skies that are always trying to kill them. - Land of Electronics and Experiments, Mike's land, is a pretty typical doom land, based around Chume labs, and has a constant lightning storm overhead - Land of Dancefloors and Dollhouses, Pac's land, is a combination of a land quest he has to get through, and a typical time land. All time lands have a clockwork or a music theme, I think him having a hot pink land that's massive amounts of dollhouse rooms attached to each other he has to make it through is just a fun concept. - Land of Cloud and Sky, Felps's world, is just a land with everything high in the sky. His whole quest is about him harnessing his ability to go with the flow to connect his consorts together. This is hard when he's sprited himself after dying upon entering due to Cellbit fucking up and accidentally killing him, and living in a robot body built by Mike. Aradia style. - Land of Searchlight and Bone, Cellbit's world, is a giant panopticon style prison. With so many bones, both decorating the prison, and filling the prison cells. His final moment is when he gets to the office of the panopticon, and it is his quest bed. He has a whole ordeal over it.

RICARLYSON! So these guys have regular consorts and Denizens, Richarlyson spawns in the heart of Skaia, and gives the quest for the other five guys to raise him.

Pac (Page of Time) has the ability to manipulate time as he wants once he realizes his abilities. Mike (Witch of Doom) can rip a hole in the universe so big it saves all of the players and sets them smack in the middle of another session, especially a previously contacted session with the connection being a Maid of Doom. With a time player land as well, they get a scratch construct on the Land of Dancefloors and Dollhouses, setting up their ability to scratch their session and set loose a whole new universe where theirs once stood.

French

The French session has probably the most normal planets of everything going on here, what really starts their journey going awry is that they have no time player.

Antoine, being a Seer of Void, can see something is going wrong. He makes contact with people outside of their session in an attempt to restore things to balance. He goes off into the veil and contacts the horrorterrors, and sets up a connection between two Doom players who seem they both desperately need it.

While he's doing that, the rest of the French proceed to have the most normal Sburb session out of anyone. Etoiles is having a great time on his planet. Aypierre gets a genesis tadpole. Kameto has two backup lives.

French Planets (Brief Edition) - Land of Apples and Airplanes, Baghera's land! It's probably the nicest land of anyone's. There are many jokes about how she doesn't get why everyone keeps complaining about their lands being horrible until she reaches theirs. - Land of Sham and Soil, Antoine's land, it's a dark land with tall dirt towers that make it impossible to see where you step. You'd need to be someone who could find where you're going in the pitch dark to even survive here. - Land of Bonds and Breakouts, Etoiles's land, is a land of a giant maze dungeon labyrinth. It's a nightmare for everyone but him. He loves it. - Land of Bogs and Frogs, AyPierre's land, is a land with frogs in a very thick swamp. I'll be honest i Just need to cook on this one some more. - Land of Hidden Leaves and War, Kameto's land, is a Naruto joke.

POMME! Is like Richas she's in the middle of Skaia. An easter egg if you will.

The French session is brought into the primary session when Antoine manages to contact with everyone else fully, rather than quietly watch from the outside. Etoiles and Baghera lose their original selves, and are their dreamselves when the universes collide in, and were unable to godtier, due to not knowing about the quest slabs.

GODTIERING! & the rest of the chronological story

THIS is the order of the godtiers from the beginning of the Spanish-English session. Anyone in the other sessions who godtier before their universe collide event has a red numeral to keep them distinct. I feel pretty strongly almost everyone would godtier here, they're all characters based on gamers. Sburb au works exceptionally well when you know everyone's gaming style.

Also, yeah I have notes listed on each godtier order for how each person dies. Like it's that detailed atp.

Spreen has the highest kill count out of everyone on purpose. I think he'd be down to cut his friends down knowing they'd be revived immortal afterward. As well as, the federation is Prospit in this scenario, they want everyone to godtier. I think him playing to what they want out of him feels his style. Anyway, he sprites his own dreamself due to ElQuackity messing with timeloops. To make his living player self trust him, Spreensprite convinces him to godtier Roier first. It is himself he's talking to, after all. Roier becomes the first godtier in any universe, and not out of his own volition. After seeing it really did work with Roier, Spreen godtiers himself. He gets li'l bear ears ala Jade getting doggy ears with her dreamself sprited, he threw in a Rubius cubito to his kernelsprite first. I like the bear ears I'm biased .3. q!Spreen being really fun in a Sburb concept is why I got hooked on this au after all.

After the first lore is repeated, BBH godtiers himself by decapitating himself with a sendificator to fuck with Foolish. He's kinda bitter about getting beige clothes. He befriends the midnight crew at least. This is before he has Dapper. He finds out about godtiering from Roier by accident and then is like. Oh I have the BEST idea.

Vegetta is killed by Spreen by request, wanting to be stronger to protect Leo, and then Spreen godtiers Missa in order to use his time powers on Derse to throw his dreamself at the kernelsprite, locking the time loop. Anyway, Missa is essentially locked in a tower on Derse's moon after this, now permanently in his Dreamself's body, who hadn't awoken prior. Fit realizes people are walking around in weird clothes, hears about it vaguely from BBH, sends a text to Spreen who'd been ghosting him, and goes like. Hey man. Wanna kill me? And gets his first reply in months.

Phil is attacked by an overpowered monster and almost dies, and Missa manages to get the message to Fit that this is happening through time shenanigans, and Fit manages to get him to his questbed before he fully dies and loses his dreamself. Phil is not happy about this and could not be angrier. He doesn't blame Fit though it's like a self anger thing.

THE BRAZILIAN CASCADE HAPPENS! PEOPLE DIE. By which I mean Slimecicle and Mariana work together to try to help the Brazilians into the session in a bid at saving Juanaflippa, hoping one of them have the ability to revive her. Slimecicle is murdered in the crypts of Prospit by Quackity in a duel, where he cuts off Quackity's arm in exchange for Quackity cutting down his life. Truly one of those luck moments where Charlie dies on his questslab. Mariana is murdered at the same time by Spreen, who is now fully working under orders from the Federation.

Pre-cascade, Pac and Mike both godtier, because they stumble into a stable timeloop, by Mike accidentally glitching Pac's questslab into throwing it at him and killing him. He godtiers with this. Now, as a fully godtiered page of time, they make it to Mike's questbed, and godtier!Mike nudges Pac's slab at Past!Mike to pick up and throw when fucking around with powers.

Felps godtiers in the cascade along with Mariana and Slimecicle, they leave behind Derse and its moon, and they both get destroyed. Where his body sleeping on the quest slab godtiers. Aradia style. Except... as a Maid of Breath, his robot sprite body doesn't explode. He just sort of... exists in both. When one falls asleep the other wakes up. The rest of the Brazilian session just assumes the Cascade fucked with his robot body's energy sources. He kind of just figures each side is a weird dream he keeps having.

Cellbit is staunchly anti-godtier, while Forever wants someone he trusts to godtier him. Cellbit refuses to godtier Forever, and causes a major fight between them. Then Spreen murders Cellbit into his godtier under orders from the Federation, which is preceded by a long Scooby-doo-esque chase, where BBH sees them both, and decides to follow. BBH is a fully godtiered Knight of Life here, he has resurrection powers for other players, and Spreen is functionally immortal as well. BBH 100% catches up to him after he kills Cellbit, and proceeds to put Spreen in a torment nexus of dying and undeath. Thus ends the Killing Spree(n).

AND THEN THE FRENCH CASCADE HAPPENS! The final session connects, and Baghera sacrifices herself to make it happen. After they make it in, they learn about Quest slabs, and there's a whole thing with Etoiles dramatically getting her to her questslab before she fully dies. Etoiles then proceeds to go kill himself on the questslab immediately after. Felps is also hanging out with the French, they found him hanging out in the void and take him with them. They lose Kameto in the void however, nobody's really sure where he went.

Pre-French Cascade, Antoine is the only French player to godtier, and no one will explain how it happened. It seems like no one really knows, but Etoiles keeps saying more fantastical descriptions every time someone asks. He's never taken his seer hood off of his face.

Back in the order of the godtiers, Forever befriends Baghera, and eventually her and Etoiles and Cellbit help him godtier. It's a whole event. Richas is having a blast.

Bobby dies, and Jaiden decides to godtier in order to get into the Federation's good graces, as well as out of guilt of feeling that if she were stronger and godtiered she could have saved him. Roier godtiers her.

AyPierre is godtiered in a tragic accident with one of his many machines. Etoiles helps pull him to his quest bed. He's a Thief of Space he has fun with it.

Foolish is the second to last person to godtier, and he is godtiered by Pomme by accident. He wanted his godtier to be as cool as possible, and somehow managed to not godtier by this point. It's just very him. He's down with the page pants.

Quackity is the final member to godtier. BBH kills ElQ at one end of the universe with the aid of Maximus. Slimecicle kills the regular QQ in one final duel.

At the end of the universe, the only people left alive and able to contact the rest of the sessions to never godtier are Wilbur and Maxo.

DanTDM disappears on the Land of Synapses and Static, never to be seen again, along with Turnip following soon after.

Luzu finds a glitch and is absorbed by it not long after he enters.

Nobody is really sure if Kameto godtiered or not.

MISCELLANEOUS NOTES

We're currently working on figuring out sprites for everyone, so hey! I might come back and add an update on that, but this post is so long my computer is lagging. I have a gaming laptop. It shouldn't be doing that. Here's some stuff on the sprites we do have + some misc notes.

Cellbit's flashlightkind is like how Kanaya's lipstick works. It's a chainsaw.

Spreen has Spreensprite, BBH has Skeppysprite, Missa has a sprite that is a mysterious skull sprited twice called Skullskullsprite, and Roier has his dog with a spiderman called Dogmansprite, and Jaiden has Arisprite, who's Miku & Ari combined :D (thanks icarus!)

It is 5 am as I finish typing this and queue it. I think I started typing this at 5 pm yesterday. Feel free to comment any thoughts you have or play around in this au! Also feel free to @ me if you do, either on my main mcyt blog (@etoilesbienne), or here!

qsmpstuck tag on my art blog / qsmpstuck tag on my regular mcyt talk blog

#qsmp #qsmpstuck #qsmp au #qsmp homestuck au #mcytstuck

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asahicore · 2 years ago

Text

moonlight - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact pairing. dancer!sunghoon x fem!reader synopsis. In August 1963, your monotonous summer vacation becomes a lot more exciting when you meet a group of dancers that work as the entertainment staff of the resort you and your family are staying at. Your fascination with them, and particularly dancers and close friends Sunghoon and Chaewon, pushes you to help them out by taking Chaewon's place at another hotel's show when she's unable to dance. The week you spend with Sunghoon as he teaches you to dance and the events thereafter give you a lot more than the ability to mambo. genre. dirty dancing au, strangers to lovers, summer au, poor boy x rich girl trope, the Big 3 (fluff angst n smut) word count. 32.2k a/n. it's finally here !!! i've been working on this for a while so i hope you guys will like it, please lmk what u think ur feedback is super important to me !!! if you've seen dirty dancing you'll see that this is like.. a complete copy of the movie lmaooo i'm sorry i didn't wanna stray from the plot cz i love it 2 much <//3 i'll make a posting schedule shortly after this so you guys can see which of my old works i'll be reposting and all that :)) enjoy !! also thanks to @ozymandia-s for betareading this u deserve the world and u made this fic a thousand times better <333 and yep thats a compliment from me to u so u better treasure it fr.

It’s the summer of 1963, everybody calls you Baby, and it hasn’t occurred to you to mind. You’re 18, have plans to change the world, and are sure there isn’t a better man than your father.

After years of being too busy to leave work for over a week, your father has finally retired, and you can all go on a long, well-deserved summer break. Like most people your age, your dream vacation would be to backpack through Europe or Asia, discovering the wonders the world has to offer, meeting people from all walks of life and eating all sorts of foreign delicacies. But your parents wish for something more laid-back, so, on the first Sunday of August, after a six-hour drive, you get out of the car at Kellerman’s, a summer resort that belongs to your father’s old friend. You are to spend the rest of the month here, until the last day of the season.

The resort is truly a sight to behold. Even though it’s only four floors high, the main building is downright massive in terms of how much space it occupies. You can imagine the many rooms it must hold, such as the different restaurants and their respective kitchens, the ballroom and other leisure rooms, the stage for various shows, and some offices and apartments where the highest members of staff reside. Tables are scattered all across the front lawn, mainly older ladies and gentlemen sitting at them, drinking lemonade, playing cards, gossiping. You can make out a golf course and a small pond from afar, as well as the back lawn where you’re told most of the activities take place. Such activities include the outdoor dancing lessons, which your mother and sister Seeun want to get to immediately.

Max, your father’s friend, greets you as soon as you arrive as if he’s been waiting for you. Amused, you watch as they clasp each other’s hand before coming into an embrace, giving three hard but friendly pats to the other’s back. “So glad to finally have you here, Doc,” Max says earnestly. “I promise you, one week here and you’ll feel like you’ve never worked a day in your life, that’s how relaxed you’ll be.” Your father laughs and nods, and you turn your attention away when they start talking about work, and how life’s been, and how your daughters have grown, and other things you don’t care much for.

You notice that a member of staff has begun to unload your numerous bags from the trunk, about half of which are your sister’s (“See, Mommy, I told you I should’ve brought those coral heels!” you hear her complain), and start helping him out. He turns to you with a smile as you haul a suitcase onto the trolley.

“Hey, thanks a lot! You looking for a job here?” he jokes, making you smile.

“Just wanted to help out, but I’ll let you know. I’m Baby, by the way.”

“Baby? Is that your real name?” he asks with an amused expression and a quizzical tilt to his head.

“No, but it’s what everyone calls me,” you beam back.

“Alright then, Baby. I’m Jake.” He wipes some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand before extending it to you, and you take it, shaking it enthusiastically.

Your conversation stops there when your father calls out your name, motioning for you to follow him and your mother and sister. “Come, Baby, let the staff do their work.” You give Jake an apologetic smile and wave him goodbye, but he simply shrugs and turns away, seemingly used to this kind of dismissal from guests.

“See you around, Baby,” you hear him say as you start to walk away.

Seeun only gives you a few minutes to settle into your shared room and unpack your suitcase before she practically drags you outside, eager to get to the dance class in time. Your older sister absolutely loves dancing. No matter where or with who, if there’s music, she’ll start moving.

You, on the other hand, have two left feet, which doesn’t make dancing such a fun activity. You like it, but always feel you look like a fool. As for dancing with a partner, the intimacy that comes with it is too much for you, and isn’t something you particularly want to share with boys you barely know, nevermind complete strangers, like the people at the merengue class your sister is making you rush to.

It takes place in the gazebo, which is wide enough to host about thirty guests and the instructor, who introduces herself as Chaewon. You try to follow her “1, 2, 1, 2” as best you can but it’s hard to focus on the rhythm when you have to avoid being stepped on by the lady to your left and stepping on the man to your right. Everything around you is turned upside down when she cheerfully calls out, “Let’s get into a circle! Gents on the outside, ladies on the inside! C’mon now!”

You manage to make your way into the inner circle, holding onto the hips of the woman in front of you, and finally start to sway to the rhythm a bit more. “Come on ladies! God wouldn’t have given you this body if he didn’t want you to shake it!” Chaewon shouts enthusiastically, emphasizing on the “shake” with a movement of her own.

“On the count of three,” she calls out, “ladies, you’ll turn around, and meet the man of your dreams! 1, 2, 3!”

You find yourself face to face with a grandma that had ended up in the gents’ circle and force on your best smile as you dance with her. She looks delighted, but that expression might just be stuck on her face permanently.

The class comes to an end and the afternoon with it, and you leave the bungalow while everyone gets ready for dinner, yelling out that you’re going to look around as you close the door behind you. It’s the early evening and the sun has just started to set, but not enough for the gentle breeze to be too cold. The small, round bushes and colorful flowers that line the pebbled path from the bungalows to the main building have been expertly tended to; there isn’t a stray weed, nor branch that hasn’t been cut properly nor a wilting plant. It’s all so perfect, it almost looks fake. Yet, when you bend down to feel a petal, it’s soft under your fingertips and very much real.

You walk on the porch that surrounds the main building until you reach the outside entrance to the restaurant. Max’s booming voice catches your attention and you’re able to peek through the ajar door, making sure you can’t be seen from where you stand. Your father’s friend sits at a table while the waiters stand in a half-circle in front of him, hands locked behind them and heads slightly bowed.

“Tonight’s the start of the second half of the season, so I’ll use this opportunity to set a little reminder. You’re here because I chose you lot from the most prestigious schools in the country and you need some financial help, correct?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “So do your job, and do it well. And if you want extra compensation, the gents here may be very generous if you show their daughters a good time and keep their wives happy. But no funny business, you keep your hands off. Got it?”

A quiet flurry of yeses is heard throughout the room just as a group of young people stride in, the sight of them piquing your interest. They’re wearing much more fitted and fashionable clothes compared to the waiters’ simple white vests and trousers, and carry themselves with a confidence you’ve only seen in celebrities and important people. The man that leads them particularly catches your attention: slicked-back hair, useless sunglasses now that the sun has set, all-black clothes, too much leather for the summer weather and the prettiest face you think you’ve ever seen to top it all off. He looks like an off-duty movie star.

“You hear that, boys? No funny business,” he says with a smirk to the group behind him, and they chuckle in response, eyeing the waiters up and down. They work at the same establishment, but they seem to be from two totally different worlds, you notice.

“I think you’re the one who should keep that in mind,” one of the waiters says just as the group passes by him, just loud enough for the other guy to hear. He reacts immediately to the taunt, spinning around and pointing a threatening finger to the waiter’s chest.

“And I think you should heed your own advice, you jackass,” he spits, unfiltered venom in his voice. The waiter only smirks condescendingly, as if proud his remark had struck a nerve.

“Alright, alright, calm down, Sunghoon, and lay off of Heeseung. You’re booked and busy this week, and your whole entertainment team has work to do, okay?” Max says, tone stern as if telling a child off.

Sunghoon takes a step back but doesn’t look away from Heeseung as he scoffs a simple whatever. He then pivots back around and leads his team out of the room. You decide you’ve seen enough and turn around yourself, heading back to your family’s bungalow with quick steps.

Barely half an hour later, you’re back at the restaurant. The tables have all been set, the candles have been lit, a band is playing soft jazz in the corner, and the waiters are taking care of the guests’ orders and keeping them content. You’ve just sat down when Max himself approaches, introducing your waiter for tonight to your table. You try not to let your astonishment show when you instantly recognise him as the one who had had that scuff with Sunghoon earlier.

“Doc, this is Heeseung Lee, and he’ll take care of you tonight,” he addresses your father, a paternal hand around Heeseung’s shoulder. “He’s a third year med student at Harvard and has been working here every summer for the past three years. A very reliable and hardworking young man.” You feel like you’re being sold a car, but your father just smiles and nods approvingly at Heeseung.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Heeseung,” your father greets, holding out a hand for the young man to shake.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Doctor,” Heeseung responds, a most dazzling smile on his lips. If you hadn’t seen him earlier, you wouldn’t believe that this smile could turn snarky and patronizing.

“This is my wife, our eldest Seeun and our youngest Y/N, but we all call her Baby. She’s going to change the world,” your father introduces, beaming proudly at you.

“Yeah, and Seeun’s going to decorate it,” you say, turning to your sister. A bit unprovoked, perhaps, but this is just the way you and your sister have always been. You smile and tilt your head innocently as she glares at you.

“I think she already does,” Heeseung says, your eyebrow raising up in surprise as your sister looks down at her hands, the sudden compliment making her blush.

“Alright, Heeseung, go get these folks our best champagne. On the house!” Max exclaims, beaming at your parents.

“Yes, sir,” Heeseung says, bowing his head slightly to Max and your table before shooting your sister a smile and walking off.

“Oh, and here’s someone else I want to introduce to you - Jay, come here! That’s my grandson Jay. Yale Business School,” Max says emphatically. Jay approaches your table quickly, a somewhat self-assured yet awkward smile on his face. He greets your parents and sister with a nod of his head until his eyes settle on you. “This is Baby, I was telling you about her earlier. She’s going to study at Yale too, and her dad says she’ll change the world!”

Jay’s lips form a pout, the kind of pout one makes when watching kittens play or a child running to his mother, as if he finds your ambitions endearing. Used to this kind of reaction from men, you raise your eyebrows and a small smile spreads on your face as if to say, “yep, that’s me.”

“How nice, Baby. But before you go off and do that, how about you save me a dance? Tomorrow night at the ball?” he offers, and the urge to kick him in the balls is hard to resist, but resist you must.

“Of course she will!” your father answers for you, and you have no choice but to put on your best fake smile, but none of the three men seem to see through it. If your mother and sister notice how annoyed you are, they don’t say anything. Knowing them, they probably think you’re being unreasonable if you’re not already throwing yourself at such an obviously intelligent and respectable young man.

That’s how you find yourself the next day, hands stiffly clasped behind Jay’s neck and his own on the sides of your waist, dancing with him to a slow-paced but lighthearted live song, although dancing might be an overstatement as it’s impossible to find a proper rhythm with someone as clumsy as him. You never thought you’d meet a worse dancer than you, but here you were. You have to keep yourself from snorting everytime he winces or tuts when you “accidentally” step on his foot, and you make sure to leave ample room between the two of you for the Holy Spirit.

Most of the dance is spent in awkward silence, probably due to the fact that Jay’s gaze, one that is perhaps meant to be seductive but only comes off as creepy, seems to linger on you for too long and too many times. When a pair of kids spins right by you, looking far more talented and serious in their dancing than the two of you, Jay seems to think he needs to step up his game and tightens his grip on your waist. Although you try to disguise it as best you can, the action makes you look up at him in alarm, and you have to stop yourself from visibly flinching when he bends down to say something in your ear although the music isn’t that loud.

“So, Yale, huh? What are you going to study? Design?”

“Um, Environmental Studies and Politics, actually. I’m particularly interested in how underdeveloped countries work and how we can change things there for the better, rather than making things worse,” you correct him, slightly raising your voice so he can hear you from where you’re standing.

Jay is visibly taken aback by your detailed response, and all he can do is nod. “Right, right, that’s-”

To no one’s disappointment, you never find out what Jay was going to say next because right then, the music suddenly picks up and one of the musicians announces “Sunghoon and Chaewon of the Entertainment Team for a mambo demonstration” into his mic. Your ears perk up at the sound of those two vaguely familiar names, and you quickly recognise Sunghoon as the leather-clad man from earlier and Chaewon as the merengue class instructor from yesterday. He’s now wearing a black suit jacket and matching trousers with a tight white button-up, the clothes fitting him perfectly and making the muscles underneath them appear when the light hits him just right. On her is one of the most beautiful dresses you’ve ever seen, the red fringed fabric draping over her body like it was created for her, her toned upper back and arms on display.

The crowd of guests quickly forms a circle around the couple, giving them enough space to put on their show, and everyone, including you, is immediately enthralled by their performance. You’re mesmerized by how elegant and energetic at once their dance is, the smiles on their faces unfaltering and their legs and arms forming perfect lines at all times. Their posture is proud and their gazes are always fixed on each other even as they spin around, somehow never getting dizzy. They move in perfect synchronization as one entity rather than two separate people simply dancing together, and even though it is probably due to an impressive amount of practice, you can’t help but find that their chemistry is what makes them so fascinating. When he lifts her into the air, it’s with so little effort that she looks like she weighs no more than a feather. There is not a step out of place, and you’re reminded of those impeccable bushes and flowers from the day before. It makes you wonder how it is possible for two people to look so perfect together, and if that perfection is only superficial or not.

“Who are they?” you ask Jay, your curiosity about them greater than your aversion to talking to him.

From the corner of your eye, you see him looking surprised by your question before he leans in and answers. “Sunghoon Park and Chaewon Kim. They’re part of the dance people. Here to keep the guests happy and entertained.” He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head in discontentment. “They shouldn’t be showing off with each other like that, it won’t sell lessons. I’ll need to have a talk with them later.”

You barely register Jay’s words after he’s answered your question, your attention focused back on the dancers in front of you. On the other side of the room, you spot Max frowning at them and marching towards them. As soon as Sunghoon and Chaewon notice him, he waves them off and they separate, choosing a guest as their new partner to dance with, which you assume is their way of doing a taster session.

Jay drags you off to sit at a table and for the better part of an hour, you let him bore your ears off as he tells you either things he can’t fathom you’d already know even though you do, or things you couldn’t care any less about. It’s such a shame that a man with that handsome a face and that charming a smile would have the stalest of personalities, yet deem himself the most interesting man to walk the Earth. You nod and hum when you’re supposed to, and that’s all he needs to think you’re listening intently, when really you can’t stop thinking about the dancers you just saw, and even steal glances at them still dancing with some guests mere meters away from you. All you want to do is get up and get Sunghoon’s, or even Chaewon’s attention so they could show you how to move like them - just touching their shoulder or waist would be thrilling. But when you catch your mother’s eye a few tables away and she beams at you, two thumbs up in the air, you know you need to stay planted in your chair.

Thankfully, the amount of guests in the room starts to dwindle, and you use this dip in the evening to run off, telling Jay it’s getting late and you need to get back to your bungalow. You don’t let him try to convince you to stay back, and grab your purse, excitedly waving goodbye at him. He’s probably confused, but you’re too giddy at the prospect of finally leaving to care.

You were on your way to the bungalow, you really were - but just as you reach it, light from a tall lodge about five hundred meters away catches your attention, and you’re too curious about the building you hadn’t noticed before not to investigate. So you continue walking up the small hill where all the guest lodgings rest until you find yourself before a sign that reads “STAFF QUARTERS - GUESTS KEEP OUT,” which you promptly decide to ignore.

In just a minute, a wooden bridge reveals itself, enabling you to cross over the current that separates you from the other bank, where the lodge stands. If you looked to your right, you could’ve made out some more, smaller and dingier-looking bungalows than the guests’ that hosted the staff behind all those trees, but you run into a familiar face before you can take notice of them.

“Hey! I recognize you. Baby, right?”

“Yeah, and you’re Jake!” you beam, surprised not only by seeing him again here, but by the three huge watermelons he carries in his arms like oversized newborn triplets.

“Yeah…” he trails, squinting his eyes at you, his enthusiasm turning into suspicion. “You can’t be here. Max would kill me. Go back to the dance, Baby.” He can only take a few steps forward before you grab a watermelon from his unsteady hold, putting your most convincing smile on.

“I’ll help you carry these!” you state rather than offer, and march forwards across the bridge. Behind you, Jake sighs and shakes his head, then rushes to stop you in your tracks.

“Didn’t you read the sign? This area is staff only, you can’t be here,” he repeats, punctuating his words. He stays unwavering even at the receiving end of your very menacing glare, so you simply huff and stack the watermelon back on top of the other two and turn away. It takes him approximately two seconds to change his mind. “Can you keep a secret?”

Jake doesn’t prepare you for what you’re about to see when you enter the staff common lodge, but you don’t think anything could. The smell of a room full of people sweating and moving about hits you instantly, the heat it creates hanging heavy in the air. The breeze coming in through the open windows is practically useless in bringing the temperature down, but you aren’t curious to find out what it’d be like with the windows closed.

The music, a genre your father always bristles at when he hears it on the radio, is now blasting in your ears rather than whistling through the wind, and it takes you a few moments to adjust to the volume and intensity of the bass and drums bouncing off the walls of the room. The guitar sound is sensual and almost yearning, the singer longs for his lover, and the tempo is just fast enough for the dancers to find a swaying rhythm.

As if the lyrics themselves aren’t enough to make you blush, the way the staff dances makes you feel like you’re intruding on something. You try to look away as a couple thrusts their hips into each other’s, only to find another lowering themselves to the group until they’re crouching then slowly rising again, using each other as support the whole time. Skirts bunched up around hips, shirts almost fully unbuttoned or even discarded, hands grabbing onto the partner’s clothes or bare skin - you’ve never seen anyone dance that way. Far from the choreographed performances you’re used to, here, they’re simply letting their bodies move to the music without any second thoughts or a care in the world. You hadn’t even known this could be considered dancing, but surely, when your body molds itself this perfectly to the melody and your partner’s hands, then you can only be dancing.

Watermelon in arms, you follow Jake as he snakes his way to the back of the room through sweaty bodies holding each other close. You recognise a few people here and there as the entertainment staff who host activities, teach dance classes or help guests find their way around. They peer back at you, expressions either confused or disdainful - you aren’t sure whether that’s because they don’t know who you are, or because they do and don’t like seeing you there. Even if they don’t know that you’re Baby, your dress at least is a dead giveaway of your being a guest. Your mom had picked it out for you - a white sleeveless summer dress that reaches almost to your knees and cinches in at the waist before flowing out over your hips. And no cleavage, of course. Along with your impeccably curled and styled hair, your prim and proper attire is a far cry from the short skirts, tight t-shirts and denim that the staff wears, revealing sunkissed skin and toned muscles. And if all of that still isn’t enough to tell you apart, then your wide eyes like a kid seeing fireworks for the first time should do it.

You finally reach the back of the room and set your watermelon on a bar counter. Jake rests his hands on his hips and watches the dancers, a smile on his face, the kind of smile you wear when you can never get enough of a sight even though you witness it everyday. You watch them too, but you must look a mix of fascinated and terrified - sure, they all look terrific, but if your dad caught you here, you’d be dead.

“Where’d they learn to do that?” you lean in to ask Jake as the next song starts playing, your gaze not leaving the dancers who adjust easily to the more upbeat tempo.

He looks at you, stunned. “Don’t you know? This is how the kids dance these days. This is what American basements look like on Friday nights.” His surprise turns into amusement and he steps in front of you, one hand extended for you to take and a mischievous look on his face. “Wanna try?”

Your eyes immediately double in size and you shake your hands in front of you, but he grabs one of them anyway and starts leading you back into the middle of the room. You’re saved by the doors suddenly bursting open, catching everyone’s attention. In run Sunghoon and Chaewon, wearing the same clothes from earlier, although Sunghoon has ditched the suit jacket and popped the top buttons of his shirt open. Your stomach flips at the sight of his flushed cheeks and hair slick with sweat.

Jake chuckles when he sees how transfixed you are by the two of them, dancing so differently from earlier, their moves far more sexual, hands not so polite anymore, completely free to do whatever they wish. Rather than a smile, Sunghoon wears a small frown and bites his bottom lip, deepening his dimples, and it all seems to make each of his moves that much harsher. The sheer sex appeal that he exudes is absolutely undeniable, and it makes you feel things you’ve never felt before - things you’re not quite unsure how to name. You let out a small gasp as Chaewon jumps and hooks her legs around his hips effortlessly, then as she leans her upper body back until her head almost touches the ground. Sunghoon’s hands are tight around her waist and his biceps apparent under the thin fabric of his dress shirt. You realize how strong Sunghoon must be when he carries her all the way to his shoulders, letting her rest her knees there as she plays with her skirt and swings her head from side to side. You’ve never seen anyone look so good while having so much fun.

“They look great together,” you blurt out without thinking.

“Don’t they?” Jake says, looking out at them with a fond smile. “You’d think they were a couple.”

This makes your head pivot towards Jake. “Well, aren’t they?”

“Not since we were kids, no. They’ve just been dancing together for so long that they’ve developed this- this chemistry and understanding of each other, I guess.”

“Do you know them well?”

“Sunghoon’s my best friend from home. He met Chaewon when he started working here when we were 16, and then he got me this job when we were 17. The three of us are 22 now.” He meets your gaze and his smile grows wider. “Why, you interested?”

The sudden question (and the very obvious, very embarrassing answer) takes you aback and you stammer out a few nonsensical syllables before frowning at him. Your reaction just seems to amuse him. “No, I’m not. Just asking,” you manage to say.

He looks back at them, and you follow his gaze. “Well, good, cause we’re not allowed to get involved with the guests anyway. Which is why you shouldn’t be here in the first place.”

Just then, the song ends and Sunghoon and Chaewon laugh before they separate, finding another partner to dance with. As Chaewon heads towards someone else, Sunghoon catches your stare and walks to where you and Jake stand, eyes fixed on your face. You feel small under his gaze, but you will your knees not to buckle underneath you, although that’s hard to do when his eyes sweep your figure, giving you a once-over.

“What’s she doing here?” he questions Jake without looking away from you.

“That’s Baby, she came with me,” Jake says, not really answering the question.

“I carried a watermelon,” you blurt, not really answering the question either, but that seems to satisfy Sunghoon. His eyebrows raise slightly before he heads back to the dancefloor and starts dancing again. You release a breath you hadn’t known you were holding, but another one catches right in your throat when, after barely thirty seconds, he pivots back around as if there was still something he was curious about. His eyes stay focused on you, unreadable.

And then, he bows his head slightly, looks up at you through his eyebrows, raises his hand, and beckons you to him with his index finger. As if spellbound, your feet move on their own until you find yourself in front of him, his hands reaching immediately for your hips and holding on tight there. All the nerves in your body are on edge and your heartbeat speeds up, almost matching the fast tempo of the song resonating throughout the room. Simply remembering to breathe becomes an arduous task. Jake’s voice is a faint sound as he says, “So you go dance with him, but not me?”

This kind of dancing is completely unfamiliar to you, so you have no idea what to do. Thankfully, Sunghoon doesn’t seem to expect anything else, and he knows how to guide you so that you get the gist of it. “Keep your eyes on me,” he commands quietly, gesturing with two fingers for your gaze to stay on his. “And move your hips in a circle, just like that,” he adds, executing the move for you to mirror. “Just relax, you’re too stiff. Relax your arms. Put them around my shoulders.” His hands brush down from your shoulders to your wrists, sending a trail of fire all along your arms, grabbing them and resting them on his shoulders himself before settling back on your waist. His arm snakes its way around it, bringing you closer to him. You aren’t sure what’s more electrifying, his gaze or his touch.

You start to focus on the music and on getting your body to move along to it, and it feels like a miracle when your hips, firmly pressed against his own, sway side-to-side in rhythm. Remembering what you saw earlier, you lean back slightly, hips still moving in small circles, trusting him to keep you from falling. You lean back as far as you can, and something about it is so liberating, you feel the adrenaline rushing through your body as if it’s the only thing keeping you alive. When you come back up, your palms are flat against his chest and he looks at you with a proud but surprised smirk that lits your insides up. “Just like that,” he whispers, but his face is close enough for you to hear him over the music.

He spins you around a few times, and as quickly as he appeared, he’s already gone, having weaved his way through the crowd back towards Jake. It takes you a few seconds to register his absence, but when it does, it’s like all the warmth he filled you with is gone; you’re left only with the heavy heat weighing the room down and you with it, when you’d felt light like air not a moment ago.

Before you can decide on what to do next, someone taps your shoulder, and you turn around to find Heeseung frowning down at you. In the fraction of a second, you can tell this is the snarky Heeseung that you’d seen when you were snooping around the day before rather than the polite Heeseung that had waited your table that night.

“Baby, right? I don’t know what you’re doing here, but your sister and parents are looking all over for you. If I were you, I’d go now, and quick.”

Alarm shoots through you as you realize you’d been here for twenty minutes at least, the sort of absence that wouldn’t go unnoticed by your family this late at night. You thank him rapidly and practically run towards the door before risking a look back at Jake and Sunghoon, still standing in the corner of the room. Jake looks worried, so you send him a thumbs up, but Sunghoon simply peers at you, sipping on a beer as his back rests against the wall, that same unreadable look from before back on his face. You don’t linger to figure it out and rush to your bungalow, coming up with an excuse that you got lost on your way back for your parents to believe. Because their Baby would never do anything she isn’t supposed to, right?

That night, as you toss and turn in bed, trying to fall asleep, your mind wanders off to those warm, big hands firmly planted on your waist, and how they had guided your body until it moved on its own accord, until it let itself go and only followed the rhythm. How far can you go until your body no longer belongs to you but rather to the music, or to the person holding you close, you wonder? And if that happened, would you, for a moment at least, no matter how fleeting, be freed of all your worries for your future and of all the pressure on your shoulders?

Your feet already ache - from dancing or from wanting to dance some more, you can’t quite tell.

Every year when August comes, it takes you by surprise how early the sun sets. Just as you’d gotten used to the sky still being fairly light by 10 p.m., it was already getting dark at nine. This is what you think about a few nights later as you look out at the dark sky, the bright full moon and the hundreds of stars lighting it up. You’re standing next to the gazebo with your parents as you watch other guests dancing about; clearly, since you’re thinking about the state of the sky and the sun in the summer, you’re very entertained. Your sister has managed to become friends with some of the other guests’ kids, as well as some of the staff, and has even formed a budding romance with Heeseung, which your parents have made it obvious they approve of. This means that she is excused of any activities she might not want to partake in, while you have to follow your parents everywhere.

Your gaze follows Sunghoon as he dances with an older woman, guiding her through the dance and teaching her a few steps. You can’t help but frown slightly at his forced smile when she lets her hands wander a bit too far down his back, and you wonder why he doesn’t say anything when he looks so obviously uncomfortable.

“You see that woman over there?” you hear Max ask your father as he motions to the lady dancing with Sunghoon. “Vivian Kim. We call women like her bungalow bunnies. Their husbands work all week and only come back on weekends. That dancer Park Sunghoon is pretty popular with them, if you know what I mean,” he comments with a dark chuckle. “But I gotta pretend like I don’t know any better, otherwise the wives are unhappy. And if the wives are unhappy, so are the husbands, and then I lose money.”

You daze out of the conversation when you see Jay approaching, his steps quick and headed directly towards Sunghoon. “Where’s Chaewon?” he questions impatiently, taking no notice of Vivian, who seems to take no notice of him either and continues swaying her hips to the music.

“What do you mean where’s Chaewon? She’s on a break, Chaewon needs a break,” Sunghoon bites back, tone just as harsh as Jay’s. That seems to shut Jay up, and he just squints at him before turning his head to where you’re standing. His whole demeanor changes instantly as he walks towards you, that smile one would reserve for children that he always looks at you with.

“Hey Baby, wanna go on a walk?” he asks, but with the intent way your parents, Max and Jay himself are peering down at you, you know you don’t have much of a choice.

You put on your best forced smile and take his extended hand. “Sure, Jay.”

He takes you to a small wooden bridge that overpasses a small but feisty current. The walk there is fairly silent, which you’re thankful for, because it’s easier to pretend Jay isn’t here when he’s not talking, but the fantasy is shattered everytime he sighs and hums contentedly. It’s like he thinks spending five minutes without talking will make the world implode, and he has to make some kind of noise to keep the balance.

When you reach the bridge, you lean back against the rail, and he leans on his side, apparently so he can look at you better. “I love to watch your hair blow in the breeze,” he says after a few moments, and it takes everything in you to keep your laughter in at the sudden romanticism.

“You know, not to brag,” he starts, and you know he’s about to say the most pretentious thing you’ve ever heard, “but around here, I’m known as the catch of the county.” He’s smiling, but you know he’s being fully serious. “I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? I’m handsome, parents love me, and I go to the best school in the country. People ask me, ‘well, what’s the difference between you and any other guy at Yale,’ and I say, ‘five hotels and a million-dollar inheritance!’” He bursts laughing like he’s just made the funniest joke ever, although you’re not sure where the joke is. You chuckle awkwardly and nod, remembering your mother’s advice - when in doubt, just nod. You’re not particularly in doubt, but you’re also not sure how to respond to such ostentatious self-praise.

To your great despair, Jay is about to open his mouth again, but a voice coming from the exit of the forest near you stops him in his tracks. “Heeseung, please, you have to help me with this-,” the voice says, and you recognize it quickly as Chaewon’s.

“I told you, it’s none of my damn business.”

“But it is! Please!” she shouts back. He walks ahead of her and she tries to catch up to him, and just like that, they’re already gone without having noticed you or Jay.

A hand placed delicately on your shoulder snaps you from your thoughts. You turn to Jay who has a sad look in his eyes and who sighs as if pained to say what he has to say next. “You know, Baby, sometimes, in this world, you’ll see things you don’t want to see. And sometimes, you can’t do anything about them. It’s all part of growing up,” he finishes, his tone self-important like he’s just taught you a world of knowledge.

“You hungry?” he suddenly adds, all cheery. “C’mon, eating something might take your mind off of this. We can go to the kitchens and get you anything you’d like.”

He indeed takes you to the restaurant kitchens, completely empty due to the late hour. He opens up a fridge, and even though he basically does, the way he acts like he owns the place makes you wince. “So, what have we here? Some smoked salmon canapés, some ham sandwiches… ooh, brownies! What else…” he trails off, but your attention has been caught by something else.

You can hear someone snuffling somewhere in the room, and when you lean to the side to peer behind the wall, you can make out a female figure crouched down in the dark. She’s trembling from head-to-toe, and when she lifts her head to look at you, you recognize her as Chaewon. You’ve never seen anyone looking so scared.

Thinking quickly, you grab Jay by the shoulders, smiling at him as you say, “You know what, I don’t think I’m actually that hungry, let’s just head back to the gazebo, yeah?”

For once, you’re the one who doesn’t let him answer your question and you speed out of the kitchens and back to the gazebo. You find Jake immediately, rushing to him to tell him what you saw, and he in turn rushes to Sunghoon, who apologizes and drops his dancing partner’s hand as soon as he hears what’s going on. Ignoring Jay’s confused look, you run with them back to the kitchens, from which Chaewon hasn’t moved an inch.

Sunghoon sits next to her, taking her in his arms and helping her up. “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m here now. Everything’s fine. Let’s get you back to my room, okay? It’ll be quiet there,” he coos, getting her snuffles to calm down and her breath to steady itself.

Since none of them tell you to go back, you follow along, Chaewon in Sunghoon’s arms in front and you and Jake not too far behind. “What’s wrong with her?” you ask Jake quietly.

“She’s pregnant.”

“Jake!” Sunghoon calls out indignantly, sending him a look as if to warn him.

“What? It’s not like she’d tell anyone.”

“Still, it’s none of her business,” Sunghoon replies, glancing briefly at you.

“And what’s he gonna do about it?” you can’t help but ask. This makes Sunghoon pivot on his heel and Chaewon frowns at the sudden movement.

“‘What’s he gonna do about it?’” he repeats, venom in his voice. “Oh of course, cause it’s my baby. Of course you’d assume that,” he practically spits at you. You try to stutter out a response, but nothing comes up. How could you not assume that, when you’ve only seen him taking care of her like she’s his responsibility?

You thought all staff lived in small bungalows, but the place you reach is more like a one-person studio. Sunghoon sits Chaewon down on a couch, covers her shoulders with a blanket and brings her a tall glass of water.

“So, whose is it then?” you ask again, eyes darting back and forth between the three figures that stare back at you. Sunghoon starts towards you, an accusing finger out, but Chaewon stops him.

“It’s fine, Sunghoon.” She sighs then lifts her gaze to look at you. Her eyes seem drained, like her tears took everything out of her. “It’s Heeseung’s,” she answers plainly, and you think your eyes bulge out of your face. What you’d witnessed earlier starts to make more sense in your head.

Next to you, Jake looks like he’ll explode if he has to keep in the words he wants to say any longer. “That bastard Heeseung. She needs money to get an operation, and she needs it soon, but he doesn’t give a shit,” Jake spits.

“But, Heeseung, he’s got money, I’m sure if you just ask him, he’ll-”

“Baby? Is that your name?” Chaewon asks softly, interrupting you. “Well, you don’t know shit about my problems, Baby,” she continues, her tone doing a 180. “You don’t think I’ve asked him? You don’t think he knows?”

“But-”

“Go back to your playpen, Baby,” she dismisses you, a finality to her tone. Sunghoon just glares at you while Jake shrugs, so you decide there’s nothing you can do than leave, and head back to your bungalow, heart heavy, but determined to help Chaewon out. There has to be something you can do, you just know it.

The next day, you pretend to help Heeseung set the tables for the lunch service to have a talk with him. You waste no time starting your interrogation, not even greeting him before diving straight into it.

“I know about Chaewon, Heeseung. You need to help her out,” you say sternly, using a random water pitcher you’d found at the entrance to fill up crystal glasses.

“Well hello to you too, Baby,” he says with a sarcastically sweet tone. His fake smile drops when he sees you won’t play into his game. “I don’t need to do anything,” he scoffs. “Not like it’s any of your business anyway.”

“Haven’t you seen her? You can’t leave her alone in a time like this, she needs your help. Even if it’s mostly financial help. It’s the least you can do.”

“Girls like her, they get into trouble all the time, okay? Hey, watch what you’re doing!” he whisper-yells when water spills over one of the glasses, not wanting to rouse the suspicion of any of the diners around.

“Yeah, because of guys like you,” you bite back, but he ignores you.

“She was bound to get knocked up at some point, going around like that.” You follow as he moves on the next table.

“So you’re not going to do anything? Just put her in a bad situation and then run away?”

He finally turns to face you, looking at you like he’s exasperated, like you’re the bad guy here. “That girl’s not my problem, okay? She brought this upon herself.”

You take a step closer to him, a fakely sweet smile plastered on your lips. “You’re a jerk, Heeseung. You stay away from me, stay away from my sister, or I’ll have you fired.” You then raise the jug of water up to his chest, and keep that same smile as you pour it on him before marching away, ignoring the gasps that echo all around the room and Heeseung as he yells at you to come back.

Your mom is struggling to get the ball in when you find your parents on one of the many golf courses. Your dad smiles as he sees you nearing them, asking you if everything’s alright.

“Daddy.”

“Baby?” he answers, looking amused by your seriousness.

“You know how you say I should always do my best to help out others when they need it?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I’ve got friends who need some help.”

“What kind of help?” he asks, slightly frowning as he realizes you’re not being serious for no reason.

You take a big breath in. “Money.” You don’t like asking your dad for money, but it’s the only solution you’ve come up with.

“And just how much money?”

“Three hundred dollars?” you say, your sentence coming out like a question as you slightly wince in apprehension.

Your father sighs. “That’s a serious amount of money, Baby. This isn’t anything illegal, is it?” he adds after a beat, taking you aback. Is this illegal? If it is, your father doesn’t need to know it.

“No, no, of course not, Daddy,” you say, trying your best at a reassuring smile. It seems to work, because his expression softens and he smiles back.

“Of course not,” he repeats, “I should know that.” He takes you in his arms. “I’ll have the money ready for you tonight.” You hug him back, thanking him before skipping away to whatever activity you might find to distract yourself before the evening.

After dinner, when your dad’s given you an envelope filled with cash, you throw a quick excuse your parents’ way before rushing to the staff quarters, making sure no one sees you on your way there. The music emanating from the common room makes you hopeful you’ll find the people you’re looking for.

And indeed, you do - Sunghoon and Chaewon are holding each other close, her head resting on his chest, and swaying together to the slow and sensual rhythm of the music at the back of the room when you find them. You feel a ping of something uncomfortable in your heart but ignore it and head straight towards them. Chaewon turns around when you tap on her shoulder, her and Sunghoon both looking at you with unmasked animosity, but you just smile as you hand her the envelope. Jake notices you and walks over to stand next to his cousin.

“Here you go. I hope it’s enough,” you say, relieved to see her surprised but ecstatic expression when she opens the envelope and sees all the bills in there. Jake wears a similar expression but Sunghoon just leers down at you.

“Oh my God, Baby, this is amazing,” Chaewon exclaims in disbelief. “How did you get Heeseung to change his mind?”

You purse your lips. “It wasn’t Heeseung…”

She frowns slightly but her eyes widen at the realization that if it isn’t from Heeseung, it has to be from you. “Oh, Baby, thank you so much,” she murmurs.

“Yeah, takes a real saint to ask daddy,” Sunghoon says sarcastically. Chaewon’s head snaps towards you and she starts to shake her head, forcing the envelope back into your hands.

“I can’t accept it, then.”

“Why not?” you, Sunghoon and Jake blurt at the same time.

“Who cares where it comes from? You need the money,” Sunghoon says, trying to persuade her, but she just continues to shake her head.

“It doesn’t feel right. And I can’t go to the appointment anyway,” she chuckles defeatedly, and Sunghoon looks at Jake in confusion.

“I can only get her an appointment next Thursday, when you guys have your act at the Sheldrake,” he explains guiltily, as if it’s his fault.

“For fuck’s sake,” Sunghoon breathes out, looking up to the ceiling in despair, hands on his hips.

“Can’t you miss just that one night?” you ask innocently, but apparently it is the stupidest question on earth, judging from the harsh glare Sunghoon fixes you with.

“No, we can’t miss just that one night. This is our job, and if we cancel the Sheldrake, not only do we lose this summer’s salary, but also next summer’s gig. Our livelihoods depend on this,” he hisses.

“So… can’t someone fill in?” you ask again, and wince when he raises his tone.

“No, Little Miss Fix-It, someone can’t fill in. Everybody works here, unlike you. Unless you wanna do it,” he adds after a pause, chuckling sarcastically, “take some time off of Simon Says?”

You can only glare back at him, even though you couldn’t look as condescending as him if you tried. You’re just trying to help them out and find solutions, no need to be so rude about it. Jake looks back and forth between the two of you, a look on his face like he’s thinking things over.

“You know, maybe she could do it. You weren’t so bad last time, were you, Baby?” he says, eyebrows raised at you as he waits for your answer, a hopeful look on his face that makes you feel bad for letting him down.

You shake your head fervently - learning a complicated choreography and performing it in front of an audience is unthinkable to you. “No, no, I can’t even do the merengue.”

“C’mon!” he insists.

“You heard her, Jake, she can’t even do the merengue,” he repeats, adding venom to the words.

Chaewon doesn’t seem to think this is such a bad idea either. “But Sunghoon, you could teach anyone to dance, you’re an amazing leader,” she says eagerly, but Sunghoon just rolls his eyes and sighs.

“The act is in a week, even if I was the best teacher in the world, she couldn’t learn the whole routine in that time. It’s a lost cause,” he sneers, his gaze fixated harshly on you. You’re not sure whether the lost cause refers to the situation or to you.

You squint your eyes at him, trying to match his gaze. It’s one thing that you think it’s a bad idea, but it’s a whole other thing now that he’s so against it. Jake’s right - you weren’t that bad last week, you’re sure you could be an okay replacement. Sunghoon raises an eyebrow at you as if in challenge.

Challenge accepted, you think.

“Now it’s one, two, three, four,” Sunghoon says, synchronizing each number to the beat of the music. “You don’t dance ‘til the two.” This is probably the fifth time he tells you this in the past half-hour, and although you know what you’re meant to do, your body will simply not listen to your head.

You’re in the dance studio, trying as hard as you can to get your body to shape itself into what Sunghoon wants it to be. Arms up at shoulder-level, core engaged, back straight, head proud. He may repeat those directions over and over again, you aren’t used to holding yourself like that, and it’s a lot harder than it seems, even though he makes it look so natural.

He moves the tonearm of the record player so that the music starts from the beginning again and walks towards you, his stern gaze never leaving your eyes as if to say, “you better not mess it up this time.” It makes the room feel a lot hotter than it actually is, and the strong summer heat coming in from the open windows doesn’t help.

You can’t help but wonder if Sunghoon is this impatient with all of his students - surely he’d be out of a job if he actually behaved like this with the fancy ladies of the resort, so he must have some kind of problem with you. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that he isn’t the fondest of you, anyway. The fact that you’re only doing this to help him out and not for your own pleasure seems lost on him, but you’d rather not aggravate the situation by pointing that out.

His hands firmly holding yours, his gaze still fixed on your face, you hear your cue approaching and tell yourself “on the two, on the two, on the two,” but it’s no use, your foot starts to move a beat too early. But this time, Sunghoon anticipates your movement and says, softer than you expect ‘no,’ and you put your foot back down instead of stepping on his like countless times before. Then he instructs ‘now’, and you finally get it right, getting into the flow of the music properly. You repeat this process a few more times, and only take a break when he’s sure you won’t make mistakes anymore.

You’re halfway through a one-liter bottle of water when you hear him say, “Finally got the basic footwork down, only took an hour.” You scoff at the snarky remark and are about to come back at him with something just as petty, but you notice the shadow of a smile on his lips, more playful than patronizing, so you bite it back and try to suppress a smile of your own. With Sunghoon, you’ll take what you can get.

He doesn’t give you more than another minute of break, ignoring your complaints and urging you back towards him in the center of the room. “Let’s move on to the second part.”

You only have a week to get ready, so you practice like crazy, Sunghoon trying to reduce his working hours as much as possible and you slipping away from your parents and sister whenever you can. You go over the steps on your own, taking any opportunity to do so, whether that’s when you find yourself alone in your family’s rental or as you walk back across the bridge and lawn to the main grounds, letting your body move to the music in your head.

When she can make it, Chaewon also comes to practice with you. Her presence is always helpful - she sometimes stands behind you, holding you by the hips and correcting your posture, sometimes replaces either you or Sunghoon so you can watch her and mirror her moves from different perspectives.

Although she was originally wary and dismissive of you, when she saw how intent you were on helping her, a complete stranger, out, her view of you completely changed. You can tell how thankful she is by the constant kindness she shows you, encouraging you to compensate for Sunghoon’s lack of praise.

Indeed, all three of you are surprised and happy to see how quickly you’re progressing, but Sunghoon has a knack for keeping his emotions behind a veil and his praises to a minimum. Sure, that means his compliments, his small ‘you did well today’ or ‘good job’ make you blush a little redder, but you wouldn’t complain if they were more frequent, either.

What he can’t hide from you, however, is that he is clearly starting to become more tolerant of your presence. You’d like to say you knew all along that he would soften up eventually, but truth is, you were scared he was going to stay this cold for the length of your time together, so it comes as even more of a relief when he stops reprimanding you so harshly for small mistakes or when he smiles along with you as you celebrate getting through a big chunk of the routine flawlessly for the first time. When one day, he actually laughs with you instead of berating you, you almost explode in on yourself out of joy. You convince yourself that those butterflies you feel erupting in your stomach is because it’s so surprising to see someone usually so guarded letting himself go a bit more, that it isn’t just the simple sound of his laughter making you feel lightheaded.

On the fourth day of practice, you manage to find enough time to practice for almost three hours in a row. Towards the end of the session, after feeling like you were about to pass out due to extortion, you have a strange surge of energy. Sunghoon, on the other hand, has almost exhausted his very impressive stamina, but still wants to go through what you’ve learned up until now.

The music starts, and you don’t know if it was this surge of energy, or if it was Sunghoon’s tired expression that made you want to tease him, but you decide it’d be funny to repeat back to him the directions he always gives you - you know them by heart at this point.

“Hey! Head up,” you joke as you face each other again after a spin. “Lock your frame. Wiggly arms!” You’re happy to see he laughs along with you, shaking his head in amused disbelief at you.

The laughter immediately halts, however, when at the end of the routine, because of your lack of concentration, your foot slips and you find yourself much closer to him than necessary for the ending pose. Your breath hitches in your throat, and your cheeks immediately burn up. After a long moment, Sunghoon looks away, clearing his throat, and you take a big step back from him as if being any nearer might make you spontaneously combust.

“That was, um, that was good today. Good job,” he says quickly, then rushes to grab his stuff and leave the room. Forget the proximity the two of you were just in - was that a flustered Sunghoon you got to see? And was it because of you? It’s almost unfathomable that you could render him shy like that, but a small smirk plays on your lips at the idea of it.

Over the week, you start reaching for the thin tank tops and shorts you own, and steal some of Seeun’s lipgloss and mascara. If Sunghoon notices it, he doesn’t say anything. But perhaps, you’re the one who hasn’t noticed the way he glances at you in the mirror when you take a break or practice on your own, how he can’t help raking his eyes over your body when you aren’t looking, unable to reign his curiosity in. That you might want to get some kind of a reaction out of him doesn’t even cross his mind - because no matter how attractive he may be, he can’t imagine that a serious, educated girl like you with big plans for the future might be interested in a guy like him.

So even if his iciness thaws a bit, he doesn’t let it show that having you around messes with his head, and stays a stern instructor who wants you to get the routine down to a T. “We can’t afford to make any mistakes,” he always says. But there’s something about the way he delivers his instructions sometimes that makes it impossible for you to concentrate on the dance. He’s always either dancing with you, your bodies just a foot apart, or sitting on the floor close to you and watching you, so he doesn’t need to speak so loud for you to hear him. It’s this quietness mixed with the strictness of his tone that makes your insides completely melt. Soft yet rigid, intimate yet steely.

“Don’t put your heel down, stay on your toes.”

“Keep your eyes focused on me, especially when you’re spinning.”

“Always keep your core and your head straight.”

Words that have no double-meaning whatsoever, yet it doesn’t take long for you to start wondering if he keeps this tone everywhere. Whenever those thoughts cross your mind, you’re practically unable to look him in the eye and speak without stammering. He makes you dizzier than the spins you practice.

It’s on the fifth day that you realize how deep your infatuation with Sunghoon truly is. The routine isn’t exceptionally long, so after five days of practicing, you have all the steps down, except for the lifts which he keeps putting off for later. He watches you do it on your own, and although he admits you know it in and out, he said there’s still something missing. The pang of disappointment you feel at his words soon turns into anticipation as he comes to stand in front of you, closer than usual, and brings your hand to his chest, keeping both of his own over yours.

“Feel this?” he says, voice almost a whisper. By now, you’ve gotten used to the intensity with which he always stares at you, but this time seems different; there’s something more vulnerable, more intimate about his gaze, something you don’t quite understand. You just stare right back at him, unable to look away.

You aren’t sure what he means so you lightly shake your head no. “Here,” he insists, pressing your hand more firmly to his chest, and it clicks. He wants you to feel his heartbeat. Your eyebrows jump slightly, and his lips form a small smile at your realization. “Close your eyes.” he says softly, and you do as told.

“The steps aren’t enough, Baby. You have to feel the music. It’s within you, it’s within me, it’s within all of us. You just gotta find it.” This was something you’d heard a lot of times before, said by singers on the radio, by some of your friends in the high school choir - that they felt the music. But you’d never quite understood what they meant until now, until Sunghoon showed you. With two fingers, he starts tapping against the back of your hand to the rhythmic beat of his heart.

“Du-dum, du-dum. Feel it now?” he asks, and you nod, too transfixed to produce actual words. His smile widens, and your heart swells because of his expression, more affectionate than you’ve ever seen it.

“Now dance.”

Your body moves as if of its own accord, the moves now ingrained in your muscles and coming as a reflex to you. Together, you go through the whole routine with no music. You hadn’t needed to check yourself in the mirror to know you did perfectly - the smile on Sunghoon’s face tells you enough.

When the evening rolls around, there’s a lightness to your demeanor that both confuses and delights your parents, but even if they asked you to explain what happened, you don’t think you’d be able to find the words to do so.

Sure, Sunghoon doesn’t look at you like he hates you with every fiber of his being anymore, and he even dares crack a smile or laugh once in a while, but it’s not like you’re the best of friends either. There are still moments when he gets frustrated with you - one of those being the time you practice the opening of the routine. He hadn’t yet taught you that part, but as soon as he showed it to you, you understood why.

You stand back to him, heads turned towards each other. Your heights match perfectly so that, when standing so close together, his lips are right in your eyeline. His beautiful, plump, kissable lips that you find yourself thinking about too many times.

Your left arm stays by your side but your right arm is raised so that he can trail his fingertips all the way from your hand down to your waist - a sensual move that, despite setting the tone for the routine, you are not at all ready to perform. Not because it requires any kind of complex technique or years of practice, far from that, but because you don’t yet have the professionalism that Sunghoon, Chaewon and other performers like them have. Nevermind his fingers brushing past your armpit, which is obviously a ticklish place, you can’t handle the seriousness that comes with such intimacy, nor can you resist the urge to laugh every time. This, of course, does not please Sunghoon.

The first couple times it happens, he just rolls his eyes and sighs, thinking you just need to get your head in the dance and then you’d be fine. So he gets back into position, again, again, and again, and even though your full-blown laughters turn into quieter snorts or chuckles, you still can’t find it in you to keep a straight face.

After the sixth time, his patience runs out. You can tell he wants to blow up at you by the redness of his face and the iciness of his stare, but when he speaks, he doesn’t raise his voice - his tone is so harsh that there’s no need for it.

“You pull yourself together, or we’re done here.”

Whether he means you’re done for the day, or completely done with the practice, meaning all your efforts this week go to waste and you don’t perform on Saturday, you aren’t sure, but you don’t think this is the right time to question him. You get back into position, and finally, on the seventh try, you don’t laugh. After so many times, his touch doesn’t tickle so much - rather, it burns. Now, instead of resisting laughter, you have to keep yourself from completely melting under his touch.

But then, you realize that this is what you’ve been daydreaming about this whole time - to have him close, to have him touch you. Even though this was still part of the routine, the point of this move was to show the chemistry between the two dancers, the attraction they needed to, or at least pretend to, have for each other to take the performance from good to mesmerizing. Good thing you didn’t need to pretend.

Of course, Sunghoon has touched your waist and shoulders thousands of times by now, but after so many days together, you start to crave a different kind of touch, and in different places. You never let yourself relish too much in the warmth of his palms for fear of getting too used to it, and, worse than anything, missing it when he’s gone - as if that wasn’t already the case. But with this opening move, you can finally let yourself melt under his touch and play it off as being really into the dance. If anything, he’d probably be glad you’re letting your reserves go.

And so you do. Eyes closed, head tilted towards him and slightly back, revealing more of your neck, you feel his fingertips brush along your side until they reach your hand, and you start dancing. For the two minutes of the routine, you aren’t even thinking of the steps anymore, only looking into his eyes and letting your muscle memory do the work for you.

At the end, you stay in the final pose for a few seconds longer than usual, looking into each other’s eyes. Sunghoon isn’t the most expressive person ever, so you’d quickly learned how to decipher the slightest changes in his face. In this moment, he looks at you like he sees you for the first time, really sees you, with something like pride in his eyes. You smile at each other, and his next words make your heart skip a beat in surprise at first, then swell in satisfaction.

“I think that was the best you’ve danced so far. If you do it like this on Saturday night, it’ll be perfect.”

However, there’s one last thing you needed to learn: lifts. Sunghoon has been putting them off almost the whole week, saying you’d get to them later, that you needed to get the other steps down before. There are two in the routine, and whenever one comes up, Sunghoon says “that’s for later,” and keeps going with the dance. Except later never comes, and soon enough, you only have a day left to learn and perfect those lifts. The stress of not mastering them on time starts to get to your head, and your stress must be contagious, because Sunghoon explodes for the first (and only) time on Friday afternoon when you make a mistake in the basic steps.

“Are you kidding me?” he suddenly yells, taking a wide step back away from you and looking at you with uncharacteristic anger. Sure, he wasn’t always the most pleasant with you, and you were no stranger to Sunghoon’s expressions of or dislike, but you hadn’t seen anger on him until now. No matter how beautiful he is, you have to admit this isn’t his best look.

“What?” you respond, voice at the same level as his, not understanding his sudden burst of impatience.

“What?! This is a basic step you shouldn’t even be thinking about anymore, let alone not get right. The performance is tomorrow, you can’t be making stupid mistakes now!” He sighs in frustration and tears his gaze away from you for a moment, then looks back, his eyes hard. “Is this your idea of fun?”

You scoff and cross your arms over your chest. “My idea of fun? You really think I’m doing this for fun?” He doesn’t say anything, just keeps on staring at you. “I’ve been breaking my back and sneaking around for almost a whole week just to save your ass, I don’t get anything out of it, and you have the nerve to ask me if I’m doing this for fun?” You can see he wants to say something, but you don’t let him. “Oh, and I’m glad you seem to remember the performance is tomorrow, because I’ll have you know you still haven’t taught me those damn lifts! How can you get mad at me for a small mistake when you won’t even teach me the whole routine?!”

You’re out of breath after screaming so loud and so quickly, but still Sunghoon doesn’t move for a few seconds, until suddenly, he pivots and walks towards the door. At the threshold, he turns to you and tells you to follow him, as if that should have been obvious. He doesn’t give you any time for questions so you run after him. Outside, a heavy summer rain is coming down, and your clothes are soaked through after just ten seconds. You walk a few steps behind him as he heads to his car, muttering a curse under his breath when he realizes he’s forgotten his keys inside the locked vehicle. You let out a small shriek when he breaks one of the backseat windows to open the door from inside, reaching for his keys still resting in the ignition. You just stand there, watching him in confusion, until he calls to you from the driver’s seat. “C’mon! There’s a place I need to show you.”

You know it’s a bad idea - you’ve already been gone for over an hour, and if you leave with him for God knows how much longer, your parents would start to wonder where you are. But there’s something about his face, his anger that had completely disappeared and let way for what seemed like excitement, the rain pouring down and the loud sound of his car’s motor; it all creates a rush of adrenaline in you, and you want to know what he has in store. So you get in the car, and as soon as you’re buckled in, Sunghoon backs out of the parking lot and starts driving, the destination completely unknown to you, but you trust him enough to not be bothered by that.

The two of you drive for around ten minutes in comfortable silence, sometimes catching the other’s eye in the rearview mirror and bursting into giggles. You don’t know why, but when you open your window and let your arm out, letting out a big whoop, he laughs like it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever seen.

In the week you spend together with Sunghoon, these are the moments you love the most. When he’s seemingly let go of his barriers and lets you see a side of him that you don’t think many people get access to, a side to which laughter comes easy. Although it gives you whiplash when he so suddenly goes back to his serious and stonelike nature, you’d rather get glimpses of his carefree self than forever be stuck with the face he usually puts on with you. You aren’t sure if he is always one or the other with other people, or if he keeps his tendency to almost switch personalities with everyone, but you’re just glad it doesn’t feel like he’d always prefer to be somewhere else than with you anymore - and that it almost feels like he enjoys, or at the very least tolerates spending time in your company now.

He parks in what seems to be the middle of nowhere, on a small patch of gravel between the road and a forest, right before a bridge that crosses over a current. He gets out and starts towards what looks like a forest, telling you good-humoredly to hurry up and follow him. The rain has calmed down to a drizzle, gentle as it falls on your shoulders and a refreshing break from the sweltering heat of the past few days. Faster than you expected, you’ve reached your destination, which is a point where the current is calm and a wide trunk tree crosses it. You have no idea how Sunghoon ever found this place, but you’ve never seen him wear such an ecstatic expression, so you don’t even question it.

He takes his shoes off and gets on the tree trunk, spreading his arms wide to keep himself from falling. You sit down, one leg on each side of the trunk, and watch amusedly as he titters and regains his balance, sending sheepish smiles your way when he gets close to plummeting into the water.

“Where’d you learn to dance?” you ask suddenly, the question forming in your head and leaving your lips simultaneously.

He considers you for a second, then plops himself down on the trunk, letting his legs sway over the emptiness. He looks out to the current when he speaks, as if talking to the air around him rather than directly to you. “I lived and went to school in a low-income neighborhood, so there were always these people coming and going, trying to get kids like us to start working and get out of the neighborhood, or make it better or something. One day these people came in, saying they were giving out lessons to become a dance instructor, and it was the only one that ever caught my interest. I did it, aced the test, and they gave me a spot here that I managed to keep every summer. Haven’t wanted to do anything else since.” He looks back at you and you catch a glimpse of cautiousness, perhaps a fear of finding judgment in your eyes, but his expression turns friendly again when he finds only curiosity and sympathy there.

“What about the rest of the year? Do you also have a teaching job back home?” you ask, daring to go further in your interrogation of Sunghoon’s personal life. Just a few days ago, you’d never have dreamed of asking him something like this, but there’s something about him today that makes you think it’s okay to get closer, if you tread lightly.

He snickers humorlessly and looks down at his hands, palms resting on the trunk in front of him. “I’m lucky I get to escape that place just three months a year when I’m working here. Otherwise, I’m stuck with the old man and his carpenting business I’m fated to inherit when he retires.” Before you can say anything in response, he jumps back up on his feet and holds a hand out to you, making a motion for you to come to him. You’re slightly taken aback at the sudden switch in his demeanor, but you know better than to force anything with Sunghoon. “We didn’t come here to chit-chat, did we? Come over here.”

Devilish - there’s no other word to describe his expression at that moment.

“Nuh-uh, I’m not getting on there, I’m gonna fall and break an ankle,” you immediately protest, but he doesn’t need to say anything, just approaches you with a mischievous smile and reaches his hands out to you - and you take them, letting him bring you to your feet.

You climb up tentatively, glad to see the trunk isn’t slippery even after the rain, and hold on tight to Sunghoon’s hands until you’ve managed to find your own balance. “Okay, what now?” you say breathily, half-paralyzed in terror and half-pumped with adrenaline.

“Let’s dance,” he says, a playful smile teasing his lips.

“What, here?” you reply, looking at him like he suggested you rob a bank.

“Yes, here.” He grabs your hand tighter and brings you closer to him, securing an arm around your waist before you can stumble off of the trunk. It’s definitely your near-death experience and not his proximity that makes your heart beat faster, definitely.

He quietly hums the song, but you’ve heard it so many times at this point that you could do the dance with no music at all. More than dancing the same steps, there’s something electrifying about knowing that the same song is playing in your and Sunghoon’s heads right now. You wonder if he feels it playing in his heart too.

What you’re doing isn’t quite dancing - you’re just taking small, careful, clumsy steps together, giggling as you try to stay atop the trunk and letting out a yelp when he attempts to spin you but it only results in you two almost falling off. He holds you close as if making sure that if one of you goes down, the other goes down with them. Your face is right in front of his chest, and when you risk a look up at him, he’s already gazing down at you, his playfulness making the light in his eyes shine even brighter.

Your breath hitches in your throat when his eyes drift down to your lips, moving as you talk, but you still manage to get the words out, whispering them in the small space between the two of you. “You’re supposed to teach me lifts, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Let’s go,” he whispers back, but makes no move to leave the trunk or distance himself from you.

“Okay,” you breathe. You repeat the word and take a step back, somehow gathering the will to tear yourself away from him, from his eyes fixated on your parted lips. “Let’s go.”

He leads you back through the woods to a wide clearing. After the downpour of the early afternoon, the sun is starting to shine again, rays of light making their way through the grayish clouds and high pines, and bathing your surroundings in a comforting glow. Sunghoon stands facing the sun, and the sunlight hits his face so perfectly, you have to keep yourself from snorting at how ridiculously handsome he is.

The only instructions he gives you are as follows: “You’ve seen lifts before. You know you just run to me to gather momentum, then when you’re close enough, bend your knees and keep your core and whole body tight as I lift you. But the most important thing is that you trust me, alright? If you don’t, we could both get hurt.”

The first few times, you just practice the running and the picking up, not wanting to venture into the actual overhead lift right away. It’s easy enough - just find the right distance, the right speed, and remember not to let your body go limp in Sunghoon’s hands.

But when you’ve gotten the hang of it, and Sunghoon tells you to try the complete lift, you freeze. You just stop right in front of him, looking at him with wide eyes. “This is too scary, I can’t do it.”

To your surprise, instead of letting out an annoyed sigh or rolling his eyes, Sunghoon smiles. His eyes go soft and the corners of his lips tug up.

“What’s scary?”

“Falling. Getting hurt, hurting you,” you say, looking into his eyes with the hope that he’ll make all your anxieties go away.

“Don’t think about those things. Don’t think about anything, just trust me. Let yourself be picked up first, and then we’ll worry about your form and how to keep it, okay?”

“O-okay.” You walk a few steps back to regain some distance, and he nods reassuringly as you take a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. You run to him, and as if his words had gone straight from his mouth to your limbs, you let him lift you - and the world looks so different from this high up.

You marvel at the feeling of floating in the air, but you quickly start to feel yourself slipping forward, and Sunghoon is yelling “Hold it, hold it!” and before you know it, you’ve dipped forward and fallen right on top of him. Thankfully, it was a slow fall, and he had time to soften the blow, so that the immediate reaction from the both of you is to burst into laughter.

You roll over so that you’re laying on your back next to him and rest your palms on your stomach, feeling it shake with laughter. Once you’ve calmed down, you turn your head towards him and he imitates you a second later. You probably look like idiots, out-of-breath and smiling widely at each other in this field, but there isn’t a thing you would change about this moment.

“Do you know what the best place to practice lifts is?” he asks, and you watch how his dimples disappear and reappear as he talks. You shake your head. His dimples deepen. “The water.”

You change locations again, heading back towards the current and finding the lake it stems from. You and Sunghoon turn your backs to each other as he takes his t-shirt off and you, your denim shorts, not wanting them to weigh you down in the water. When you turn back around, you have to force yourself to detach your eyes from his perfectly defined abs and shoulders thanks to years of dancing and physical exertion almost every day. You stare out at the lake like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen so much water, otherwise you’d be gawking at him like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a man. Your cheeks burn up when you feel his eyes on your legs, taking your half-naked figure in, and he chuckles as you rush to hide yourself in the water.

Once in the water, you practice the actual lift, which consists of Sunghoon hoisting you high above his head and you keeping a straight posture, with your arms perpendicular to your body and your chest slightly lifted as if you were truly soaring through the air. It already looks difficult, and yet it’s even harder than it looks. It does help being in the water because at least you’re not scared for your life when you lose your balance and dive forward, but you let out a yelp nonetheless each time it happens. Sunghoon keeps on telling you to hold your posture, but each attempt ends in you falling into the water and bringing him down with you.

You drift apart and swim back towards each other every time, your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands coming to your hips to get back into position for the lift. You’re having a lot of fun, too much fun, probably, when the performance is just a day away - but getting to see Sunghoon’s smile and hear his laugh as you play around and try your best at the lift makes it worth it. When the strap of your tank top slips over your shoulder, you notice out of the corner of your eye Sunghoon’s hand reaching for it just as you put it back yourself. He plays it off by raking a hand through his wet hair, getting it out of his eyes, and smiles shyly at you when your gazes lock. You have no idea what’s going to happen after the performance, if you’ll stay friends or if he’ll pretend like this never even happened - all you know is that you’d be happy doing this all summer.

“One last time?”

And just like that, it’s late Saturday afternoon and the performance is just an hour away. You barely eat or speak during dinner, partly out of nervousness, but mostly because you want your lie of having a headache and needing to rest in your room more believable. Chaewon had said she’d help you put your dress on and get ready before the show, so when you’ve escaped the dinner table, you rush to her cabin.

But just as you exit the building, an old woman you recognize as Mrs Jung walks in. She must be surprised at your sudden appearance because she slightly bumps into the door and drops her bag. An unusual amount of wallets fall from it, but you don’t think too much of it - you’ve seen rich people do weirder things.

You bend down to help her gather her things, and she chuckles lightly, thanking you. “Such a sweet girl, isn’t she, Harold?” she says to her husband who had appeared behind the door as well. You wish them a nice evening and part ways, gushing to yourself over how cute old couples are as you head to the Chaewon’s cabin.

She does your hair, pulling it into a tight bun and securing every stray strand with a bobby pin. You have no experience with makeup since it’s always been off-limits in your house, so she expertly applies eyeshadow, mascara and lipstick to your face. The sticky feel of it is unfamiliar but once you look in the mirror, you almost can’t look away. It’s still you, of course it is, but the bright colors make you look glamorous, like performing in front of a large crowd is just routine for you. You thank Chaewon, a huge smile on her face, and watch her own light up in relief that you like the makeup.

As she zips your dress up, a flowy baby pink dress she got out of her closet just for you, you repeat back all the instructions Sunghoon has given you over the week to make sure you remember everything. “I just gotta keep my head up, keep my core and my arms straight, follow the mu-”

“Thank you, Baby,” Chaewon quietly interrupts, and the slight tremble in her voice and the vulnerability with which she looks at you lets you know she really means it. You stop your declamation immediately and smile at her, kindness in your eyes.

She looks down and tries to find her words. “You know, I- I just want you to know that I, I don’t sleep around, and Heeseung, I really thought he loved me, and-”

You can see the tears already forming in her eyes so you bring her into a tight hug, resting your cheek against the side of her head. “I know, Chaewon, don’t worry. And even if you did sleep around, it wouldn’t matter, Heeseung should take responsibility no matter what. We’re all here to help you. Don’t worry.” You lean back to hold her face in your hands and try to give as reassuring a smile as you can.

“I’m scared, Baby,” she whispers, trying to calm her sobs to get the words out.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, Chaewon,” you say, and you hope she believes it as much as you do. “Everything’s gonna be just fine. You’ve got Sunghoon, and Jake, and you’ve got me too.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in. When she opens them again, she grabs your hands and shakes them between the two of you, mirroring your smile. “Okay, okay,” she murmurs. “Sorry, this isn’t the best time for me to break down. You feeling ready?” she asks, and even if it’s just for now, you’re glad she’s feeling better and got to let her emotions out.

“Not at all, I’m so nervous. I don’t want to mess something up and let you or Sunghoon down,” you admit, your smile wavering for a second.

“Whatever happens, you won’t let us down,” she says, squeezing your hands. “It’s amazing, what you’re doing.”

You can’t help but look away at her words. “It’s the least I can do,” you mumble.

“No, Baby, you’re doing more than most people would. And Sunghoon, he might have his own way of showing it, but he’s extremely grateful for you,” she says, and it puts a smile on your face.

“By his own way of showing it, do you mean not showing it at all?” you joke.

“That’s Sunghoon for you.” You giggle quietly together, but her eyes drift to the clock on the wall behind you and she lets out a sigh. “It’s time, Baby. And don’t worry, I know you’ll do amazing,” she says, bringing you into a brief hug.

You’re so nervous, everything that follows is a blur - leaving Chaewon’s cabin and sneaking over to Sunghoon’s car, the drive to the Sheldrake Hotel, the staff there leading you backstage, and finding your spot on the stage. You only snap out of it when the curtains lift and a voice booms from the speakers in the room, announcing “Sunghoon Park and partner dancing the mambo” as the audience breaks into polite claps.

The music starts, and Sunghoon can immediately feel the tension in your body. He trails his fingers all the way down your arm to your waist, just like you’d practiced a ton of times before, and he uses the proximity between the two of you to whisper “Relax” into your ear. “Just follow my lead, you’ve got this,” he says, loud enough for only you to hear, and extends his arm to send you spinning.

You manage the first few steps, trying to let go of your anxiety, but it’s got a tight grip on your body and makes your stomach twist. You think it’s all over when you mess up a turn, going right instead of left, but Sunghoon’s quick to whisper “over here” and you find your way again. “Look at me,” Sunghoon says once you’re facing each other again, and you lock eyes with him. And for some reason, that works - focusing only on him makes you feel like it’s just the two of you in the room, just like so many times this past week, and it dissipates all your nerves, makes your muscle memory kick in. You finally let him lead you and follow the music, thinking of nothing but Sunghoon and dancing together.

And yet, when it’s time for the lift, you freeze again. You find your position and run to Sunghoon, just like you know you’re supposed to, but you can’t let him lift you, your limbs turning into lead in his hold. Thinking quickly, you come up with another step on the spot, hoping it isn’t too obvious to the audience you just messed up. Sunghoon takes the lead again, and the rest of the performance goes smoothly, the other moves and the smaller, easier lift realized perfectly by the both of you.

You finish off the number, and the sound of the applause directed at the two of you fills you with a pride you’d never felt before, a feeling much more satisfying than any good grade or won argument ever had. Another sort of daze fills your mind now, and it makes you feel like there’s a small cloud under your feet so that you’re floating instead of walking everywhere. It almost makes you miss the Jungs, but when you see the old couple slowly walking out of the room, you’re scared you might be done for.

You rush back to the parking lot with Sunghoon, whooping in excitement as soon as you're out of anyone’s earshot. In the backseat, you change out of your dress and back into your regular clothes.

“God, that was- that was amazing, I can’t believe you get to live this every week during the summer, it was just- my God…” you say, struggling to get your right hand through the sleeve of your blouse.

“Yeah? Did you have fun?” Sunghoon answers, a smile on his face that turns into a gulp when he sees your half-naked body in the rearview mirror. He can’t help but risk a few more glances, hoping you don’t notice.

“I did, I really did, but I- I messed up that one turn, and I didn’t do the lift-”

“That doesn’t matter,” Sunghoon says firmly. “You did real good, Baby.” And after a beat, he adds: “Thank you. You did real good.” Your eyes lock in the mirror but you look away before he can catch sight of your reddening cheeks.

“And oh my God, there was that couple, the, the-”

“The Jungs, right? Yeah, I saw them too,” Sunghoon chuckles. “I got so scared.”

“Right? Me too! They won’t say anything, will they, do you think?”

“Probably not. I don’t think they even recognized either of us.”

You button your jeans and climb your way over to the passenger seat next to Sunghoon, grateful for the lack of headrests in his car. It suddenly grows quiet between the two of you. You want to ask whether you’ll keep meeting now that you’ve done your part, but you’re afraid Sunghoon might want to have nothing to do with you from now on even if it doesn’t seem like he dislikes you anymore. So you stay silent, watching out of the window, sometimes turning your head towards Sunghoon and catching his eye, then smiling at each other shyly.

Something in you is screaming at you to reach out to him, brush a hand over his hair, interlace your fingers with his - any kind of touch. You thought the ball of nerves in your stomach would disappear after the show, but it’s still there, and it’s taken hold of your entire body now, the anticipation of whatever is to come almost unbearable. You notice Sunghoon’s gaze ping-ponging between you and the road, and the tightness with which he holds the steering wheel, and you dare let yourself hope, just a little bit, that he shares those same wild thoughts jumping around your mind.

When you reach the parking lot next to the staff quarters, Sunghoon is quick to get out of the car, while you rub at your eyes and lips, trying to get as much makeup off as you can. Your parents would most likely be in bed by now, but just in case they were still up, you didn’t want them to catch you with bright red lips and blue eyelids. Sunghoon walks around to your side and opens your door for you, even grabbing your hand to help you out of the car. Once you’re out, he takes your other hand in his, facing you as he walks slowly backwards, and with the way he’s gazing down at you, you think those unspoken thoughts might finally come into the light. But before either of you can say anything, you hear quick footsteps rushing towards you, and a familiar voice calling out to Sunghoon.

He swings around to find a panting, alarmed-looking Jake. “Sunghoon, it’s- it’s Chaewon, something went wrong, she’s not feeling well-”

Neither of you need to hear more before you’re running to the cabin, reaching it in record time. There’s way more people than there should be in and outside Chaewon’s room, all watching and doing absolutely nothing except for another girl you recognise as part of the dancing crew holding a wet cloth to her head as Chaewon, her face covered in sweat and her eyes shut tight in pain, moans and mumbles incoherently, slightly delirious from fever. The girl at her bed steps aside when she sees Sunghoon approaching, and he kneels next to Chaewon, holding her hand in both of his and reassuring her as best she can.

“It’s that doctor,” Jake starts, “he was so shady, had a folding table and a dirty knife, and I- I heard screams coming from that room, Hoon, awful screams, and I tried getting in and getting Chaewon out but they wouldn’t let me-”

What’s obvious to you right now is that Chaewon is in desperate need of an actual doctor, and nobody here can provide that for her, so you rush out of the room, and, as fast as your legs can carry you, run to your father and wake him up in a hurry, grabbing his doctor’s bag. You’re glad for your father’s blind trust in you - other than an instinctive “Is Seeun alright?”, which you nod your head at, he doesn’t ask any questions, just sees you need his help. He listens to your unclear and frantic explanations of what’s going on as he follows you to the staff cabin.

“Alright, out of the way, everyone, give the girl some space,” your father says as he enters Chaewon’s room, the way he carries himself and speaks instantly commanding obedience from the group. People filter out as he takes Sunghoon’s spot next to Chaewon, checking her pulse and temperature. “Who’s responsible for this lady?” he asks without looking away from his patient.

“I am,” Sunghoon says, taking a step towards him. “Is she gonna be okay?” He seems so distressed you want to take him into your arms and tell him it’ll be okay, but you can’t do that - not here, not in front of your dad.

Your father turns his head to take a look at Sunghoon, his expression unreadable, then turns back to Chaewon, leaving Sunghoon’s question unanswered, floating in the air ominously.

He makes you all leave the room, and you wait for what feels like hours until your father finally comes out, his briefcase in hand, and announces that Chaewon just needs some rest and then she’d be okay. He lets Jake thank him and shake his hand agitatedly, but once again just stares Sunghoon down and ignores him when he tries to do the same. He takes you by the shoulder, making you walk away with him without saying goodbye to anyone. He’s silent for a few moments, waiting to have gone down a few steps before he speaks, and when he does, his voice is tense and almost trembles with anger.

“Is this what my money paid for? I’m disappointed in you, Baby. You’re not who I thought you were.” He doesn’t even let you defend yourself, just keeps walking without looking at you. “I don’t want you to hang around those people anymore, do you understand?”

“But dad-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he says firmly, and the slight increase of volume catches you off guard. Not once has your dad raised his voice at you, or at least not since you were a child - that’s how you understand how truly upset he is at you. He finally turns around to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “And get that stuff off of your face before your mother sees it.”

The rest of the walk back to your bungalow is done in unbearable, utter silence, and you can’t wait to be away from your father and the anger pouring off of him in waves. But that silence doesn’t seem to go away, even when you finally reach your bed, even when your sister starts snoring quietly, completely oblivious to the events of the night. The silence grows so loud in your ears that it creates a fuzz all around your brain, making your head throb and blurring your thoughts, rendering them incomprehensible. The sheer weight of it forces your eyelids closed even though you don’t feel tired at all - there’s too much going on in your mind for you to fall asleep.

There’s the relief of your father having helped Chaewon, and the knowledge that she’ll be okay thanks to him; but there’s also the image of his disappointed expression etched into your brain and the words “You’re not who I thought you were” playing on a hellish loop. There’s the worry he won’t ever see you the way he used to, that you won’t be his little girl anymore, but there’s also the satisfaction of that exact thing, the liberation that comes with your father finally realizing you’re not perfect and make mistakes too.

And then there’s Sunghoon.

There’s Sunghoon, and his concern for Chaewon’s safety, his love for his friend that he’s known for years, the hurt on his face when your dad didn’t shake his hand, and the way he quickly retracted his own thereafter, a defeated expression like he was used to such disrespect. But before that, there’s his dimpled smile and sharp canines you find weirdly endearing, the carefree sound of his laughter after you fall on top of him in the water, his warm hands guiding you from step to step, the quick glimpses he throws your way when he thinks you’re not looking but hopes that you are. Even before that, there were the ice-covered walls he put around himself and his friends that could melt as quickly as they could freeze back up, until finally one day he opened the door for you to come in. There was the elegance in his moves and the feeling like all the air in the room had evaporated when you watched him dance, only for it to fill you back up when he took you by the hand and showed you how to let yourself go for the first time.

The fog in your mind clears at the thought of him, like sunlight forcing its way through gray clouds after a thunderstorm. You need to see him.

You need to check on him, to make sure he’s feeling alright, and laugh with him if he is or cry if he isn’t. You need to hold his head between your palms and graze a hand through his hair and do and say all the things you’ve been wanting to this week.

You climb out of your bed and grab the first cardigan you see, then slip your shoes on and make your way to the front door. You try to be as quiet as possible, but once outside, you hang back just for a few moments in case anyone has heard you leaving, so that if they come to check, you can just say you’re getting some fresh air on the front porch. No one seems to stir so you rush to Sunghoon’s cabin. It’s past midnight and the only light guiding you is that of the stars and the bright moon up above.

When Sunghoon opens his door, he seems at once relieved and surprised to find you there. “Baby,” he simply says, gazing down at you. He looks so tired, you think. The performance at the Sheldrake was just a few hours ago, but it already feels so far away.

“Hey. Can I- can I come in?” you ask, slightly out-of-breath from your walking so fast.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he says, turning his body to let you in his cabin. Since your first time here, that night you’d found Chaewon crying in the kitchen, you’d learned more about this place. Thanks to his seniority here, Sunghoon has a separate studio-like cabin further down the path where all the staff bungalows are, and it’s bigger than most of them, even though it’s still just one room that accommodates his bed, a closet, a desk, a sink and some other chairs, shelves and drawers.

A soft song is playing in the background and the main light is off, the small lamps here and there providing enough light for you to see. You hadn’t at all thought to look around when you were here last, so you’re curious to really see what Sunghoon’s living space is like.

You walk further into the room, taking in your surroundings and reveling in all the traces of Sunghoon’s life - discarded clothes here and there, a stack of record players from the early fifties to now, posters of movie stars and famous singers, some photos of him with Jake, Chaewon and other members of the entertainment team. He looks around like he’s seeing the room for the first time too, maybe trying to see it through your eyes and imagining what you could be thinking of it. He picks up clothes from the floor and from an armchair only to throw them in his closet, gesturing for you to sit down, and rubs the back of his neck in what seems like an embarrassed gesture.

“It’s not much… you’re probably used to a lot better…” he says with an apologetic tone.

“No, no, it’s great,” you say quickly, not wanting him to feel embarrassed. You look at him with a smile. “I love it here.”

He mirrors your smile, letting out a shaky breath of relief, then sits down at the edge of his bed, too far away for your liking. The tense atmosphere from earlier in the car is back, filling the room with the silence of a thousand unspoken words. A beat passes before you speak up. “I’m sorry about the way my father treated you, Sunghoon. It wasn’t nice.”

Sunghoon looks genuinely shocked upon hearing your words and starts to shake his head fervently. “No, no, your father was great, the- the way he took care of Chaewon, I could never do anything like that in my life, he was amazing.”

“Yes, but I’m talking about you, Sunghoon, not Chaewon. He completely ignored you, he should have treated you with more respect.” His eyes find yours, and the look on his face like he wants to believe you but can’t quite bring himself to makes your heart ache.

He chuckles and lets his head hang low, looking down at his hands. “Why should he? I’m- I’m nothing,” he says quietly, so quietly that you think you might have misheard, because never in a hundred years would you have thought that someone like Sunghoon could think so lowly of himself.

Your surprise makes it hard to gather your words and say something coherent, but you try your best. “What- Sunghoon, how could you say that? You’re not nothing, you’re- you’re everything,” you say, the last word coming out breathy.

He looks at you like he’s never heard those words before, never had somebody tell him he was so much more than he thought he was - but maybe that’s because he’d never told anyone how he really felt. A pained expression flashes across his face, and you’re scared you might’ve said the wrong thing but his next words reassure you that that’s not it.

“You don’t understand… One month, I’m living off of scraps and struggling to make ends meet, and the next, rich ladies are stuffing hundred dollar bills in my pockets and giving me the key to their room. Everywhere I am, people just use me to get what they need. My dad basically forces me to work with him and doesn’t give a crap what I really want, the women here use me to escape the boredom of their lives, and Max and his asshole grandson Jay just want me to make as much money as I can so they can get even richer.” His voice gets louder the more he talks, the anger getting to him. He chuckles darkly, but his expression softens when he catches your gaze. “I have to live like this. If I start thinking I deserve more, that I- that I’m everything, like you say, I’ll never be satisfied. I’ll always want more. I can’t handle that.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way. It shouldn’t be that way,” you say quietly, shaking your head and looking at him sadly. You don’t know how to make him see that for the joy he brings everyone who gets to see him dance, for the care and safety he gives the people he loves, and the way he’s made you feel like you can finally escape the thoughts in your head, he deserves everything he wants in the world. You don’t know how to make him see his worth and the respect he deserves as much as anyone else.

He smiles at you wistfully, like he can see his own, long-gone, naive hopefulness on your face. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Baby. You look at the world and you think you can make it better.”

It’s your turn to chuckle humorlessly. “Yeah, I run to my daddy, like you said.”

“No,” he says firmly, his tone catching you off guard. “No, that took a lot of guts, doing what you did. I love that about you, you just go ahead and do things. You didn’t even know Chaewon, and yet you learned a whole professional routine in a week just because you wanted to and you could. And now you risked your relationship with your father just to help her out once again. You- you’re not scared of anything!”

“Me? I’m scared of everything!” you cry out, suddenly standing up, the emotions boiling in your stomach making you unable to sit any longer. “I’m scared of the disappointment in my parents’ eyes, of failing school, of being stuck in a life I can’t escape from…” Your gaze travels around the room before it settles on Sunghoon once again, your gazes locking each other in so tightly you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to look away. “But most of all,” you continue, voice shaky and desperate, “I’m scared of leaving this place and never, ever feeling again the way I do when I’m with you.”

His jaw tightens and he has to force himself to look away from you, his eyes focusing on a random object in the corner of the room. With the way he huffs air through his nose and tenses his whole body, he almost looks angry, but you know that’s not it - finally, after a week of torturous hesitation and not-knowing, you understand how Sunghoon feels about you. He feels just like you. All those lingering gazes, those small shocks of electricity whenever you touched, those loud heartbeats at his constant proximity, he felt them too, and it drove him crazy too; you’re sure of it.

Or at least, almost sure of it. And there’s only one way to confirm your suspicions.

Sunghoon thinks you’re not scared of anything, so you’re going to prove it to yourself. You take a step towards him, then another one, and another one, until you’re standing right in front of him. You extend a hand out to him and he doesn’t question it, just takes it and rises, now towering over you as you had over him just a second ago. You’re as close as you usually are when you dance together - or perhaps a bit closer than that.

“Dance with me,” you whisper into the space between your bodies.

“What, here?” he whispers back, finally looking at you. His gaze lingers in your eyes before dropping to your lips, his pupils slowly dilating - there’s your confirmation.

“Yes, here,” you reply, echoing your conversation on the tree trunk, which somehow was only yesterday.

You wrap your arms around his neck just as his hands come up to hold you by the waist. It’s a position you’ve found yourselves in a hundred times by now, but tonight, it feels so different. The air around you is charged with electricity and all of your moves are purposeful, trying to make the other feel all that you’re feeling with just a touch.

Tight in each other’s arms, you sway to the slow rhythm of the music, your head resting in the crook of his neck while his hands travel from your waist, to your shoulder blades, back down to your hips. Even with two layers of clothing between your bodies, the feeling of having him so close sends shivers down your spine, even though your skin burns everywhere it comes into contact with him. Your breath makes goosebumps appear on the side of his neck, and when his grip on your hips tightens, you take it as a green light to start pressing faint kisses to his skin. He bunches the fabric of your blouse in his hands, slowly pulling it from the confines of your jeans and over your head, making you raise your arms. He makes a ball out of your top and throws it somewhere across his room, his attention fully taken by the sight of your now half-naked body. He immediately discards his own t-shirt, putting his hands back on you as quickly as he can, as if scared you might suddenly disappear.

You go on dancing together, bodies moving in harmony, as if you’re one being rather than two. You let your hands travel over his shoulders and chest and rest them on his stomach as you lean your upper body backwards, trusting him to hold you while you circle your way back to him. When you do, his hands roam down to grab your ass and hike one of your legs around his hips, the friction of your pelvises rubbing together eliciting a heavy, relieved sigh from both of you.

Finally, your lips find each other, and you kiss like you’re each other’s sources of oxygen. Of course, Sunghoon is one of, if not the best, kissers you’ve ever had the honor of sharing a kiss with, because how could he be anything other than perfect? The way he kisses is intense and a little bit messy, and it ignites your whole body, making you crave only more and more until you’ve had everything you want. Your hands and his are restless, endlessly drifting over each other’s bodies, grabbing at shoulders or hips or strands of hair.

He walks backwards to his bed, never once breaking the passionate embrace, until the back of his legs hit the mattress. He sits, spreading his legs wide enough for you to stand between them. His face is right at the level of your chest, and the way he looks up at you as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses there makes your insides burst and the fire in your core burn harder. Keeping eye contact with him is too much to handle, so you close your eyes and let your head back slightly, grazing your hands through the soft locks of his hair and simply enjoying the feeling of his mouth on you. His warm hands roam your lower back before traveling north to the clasp of your bra. He undoes it but doesn’t take it off - instead, he calls your name, and it’s never sounded better than on his lips.

“Baby?”

“Hm?” You look back down at him and find in his eyes a sort of lustful, dreamlike daze that you’re sure must reflect your own perfectly.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks breathily, wanting to be certain this is okay for you, but sounding like it’d be the death of him if you said no.

You smile softly and take his head in your hands. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

He smiles too, exposing his sharp canines and pretty dimples, and sighs of relief. “Thank God.”

Your bra comes off, and you almost laugh when his pupils blow out at the sight of your naked chest, but your amusement dies, cut off by a loud moan as soon as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, twirling his tongue around and sucking on the sensitive bud before moving on to the other one. One of his hands rests on your ass while his other arm is wrapped around your waist, and his grip on your waist tightens every time you make a sound that he particularly appreciates. You’re pulling at his hair so much, you’re almost scared of hurting him, but truth be told you’re too focused on the way his mouth feels on you to really be careful about it.

“Come here,” he says, voice hoarse. His jeans aren’t doing a very good job of hiding how hard he is, and he groans at the sudden contact when he pulls you down into his lap. You press kisses everywhere you can - his cheeks, the crook of his neck, his hair, before finding his lips once again. You don’t even realize you’re grinding yourself against him until he breaks away from the kiss to let out a quiet moan, and you bury your face in the dip between his shoulder and his neck, breath hot against his skin as you whine in pleasure.

You could do this for hours, and maybe you do - but at some point, you start needing something more and your core throbs, desperate for more attention. And what better way to communicate that to Sunghoon than to show him exactly what you want?

You unwrap your arms from around his shoulders and let your hand roam down to the waistband of his jeans, smiling shyly at him as you get down on your knees in front of him. He watches with a pained expression, like the anticipation of what you’ll do next actually hurts him, as you unbutton and unzip his jeans, then slide them along with his boxers down his legs. To distract from the fact that his size slightly intimidates you, you take him in your hand right away, circling his reddened tip with your thumb before starting to bring your palm up and down his shaft while your other hand rubs his thigh.

You’re absolutely breathtaken by the sight in front of you: Sunghoon’s abs tensing visibly at your ministrations, his head hung back and his neck and Adam’s apple flushed red on display for you, moans increasing in volume as you continue. You had a feeling Sunghoon wouldn’t be a quiet one, and you’re proud to be proven right.

You put your own needs aside for now, just wanting to see Sunghoon in as much pleasure as you can give him. You bring your head forward and lick a stripe up his length, satisfied when he lets out his loudest moan so far. You don’t tease for too long, only licking at his tip for a bit before taking more of him in your mouth. You keep one hand at the base of his shaft and swirl your tongue around the part you’re able to reach.

This is the first time you’ve gotten so much pleasure from giving - maybe because Sunghoon’s reactions feed your ego, maybe because you’re so obsessed with him that knowing you’re making him feel good is enough, or maybe both. Definitely both.

But Sunghoon doesn’t let you have your fun for too long, and soon pulls your face gently away from him. His flushed face and fucked-out expression is gratifying to say the least. You look up at him with a smile, rubbing his thighs with your palms as you wait for him to catch his breath.

“A minute longer,” he says, panting, “and I would’ve died.” You giggle at his dramatics and hoist yourself back up, about to position yourself again on his lap but Sunghoon has other plans. He lays you down on your back and comes to rest on his side next to you, holding himself up on a forearm; that way he has both full access to and full view of your face and body. Perfect.

His face is close enough to yours to press kisses there and on your neck while his hand makes his way down your body. When it reaches the waistband of your jeans, you don’t wait for him to say or do anything and undo them yourself, which makes Sunghoon smirk.

“Impatient, are you?” he teases.

“You’re one to talk,” you bite back with a smile, even though your cheeks start to burn.

He slips a hand under your jeans, and gathers slick from between your folds before starting to rub small circles on your clit with the pads of two fingers. He soon gets frustrated from the way your clothes restrict his movements, and whispers in your ear, “Might as well take everything off while we’re at it, don’t you think?”

You roll your eyes at his playful tone but comply, more than happy to undress if it means he can touch with more ease. And indeed, he wastes no time before slipping a finger inside you, smirk widening at the loud half-gasp half-moan you let out at the feeling. “Much better,” he whispers again, but any comeback is wiped from your mind as he adds a second finger in, curling them so that they hit just the spot. You’re drenched at this point, your arousal sticking to the inside of your thighs, but that only makes it easier for him to slip his fingers in and out and means you’re more than ready for him. He keeps his thumb on your clit so that the friction there doesn’t stop either, and it isn’t long before you start to feel that familiar knot twisting your insides, appearing much quicker than you’d like it to.

“Sunghoon- I’m gonna, I’m-”

“You are, huh?” he breathes against your neck in between kisses. And just like that, as if you’d told him to stop and not that you were about to finish, he slips his fingers out of you, watching your reaction with a devilish, amused smirk.

“What? No, no-” you whine, but it’s no use. He rolls away from you, opening the drawer in his bedside table to retrieve something, and he’s lucky it’s a condom, because you might have killed him if it was anything else.

“Just because it’s our first time, I’m making you cum on my cock,” he explains as he rips open the small packet and puts the condom on. He comes back and places himself over you, pressing a kiss to your cheek and aligning himself with your entrance. “Next time, you’ll cum on my fingers and mouth as much as you want, Baby.”

And then, he pushes in.

You don’t need to tell him to go slow, or to wait before he starts moving; he knows. He holds himself up on his hands, biceps tight, and watches your face carefully for any sign of pain or discomfort while he furrows his way in, inch by inch.

When he finally bottoms out, he presses a soft kiss to your glistening hairline and bends down to whisper in your ear, “I’ve been thinking about this all week, and it’s even better than I imagined.”

The corners of your lips tug upwards, but the feeling of Sunghoon filling you up like this makes your brain go fuzzy and you can’t even begin to form coherent words or thoughts. You grab on to his biceps and shoulders as he starts to move back and forth, slowly at first, but progressively picking up speed, your moans egging him on.

He takes one of your legs and hikes it up around his hip, allowing him to go deeper and hit that spot that has you arching your back and crying out. You’re clawing at his back, eyes shut tight and mouth going dry, and his fast, regular rhythm is bringing you to the edge once again. Either Sunghoon has terrible timing, or he knows precisely how close you are and wants to tease you, because he slows down and pulls out. “I just want to make it last a bit longer,” he explains, murmuring the words in the crook of your jaw and neck before pressing a kiss there.

He pushes himself away from you and sits up on his bed, his back against the headboard. He looks at you with a lopsided smile, and when you position yourself on his lap, you take a couple moments to admire him before taking him again. His hairline beads with sweat, his face and upper body are flushed a light red color, his breathing is quick and shallow, mouth slightly agape, and his eyelids are heavy with lust, eyes almost closed. He’s never looked so good.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he asks, and you smile both at the compliment and at the fact that you were thinking the same thing about him just a second ago, as if you shared each other’s exact thoughts. You shake your head, and his gaze turns loving as he brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Baby. There. Said it.”

You kiss him passionately before taking him in your hand and raising yourself on your knees to guide his tip towards your entrance, keeping eye contact with him as you sink onto his length. The new position hits even more sensitive spots and makes the two of you moan simultaneously.

Deciding to let him rest for a bit, you start moving yourself up and down on his cock, quickly settling into a nice rhythm that doesn’t tire your legs out too much but still manages to make you see stars. You hold onto Sunghoon’s shoulders, hands sometimes grabbing onto his hair while his stay firmly planted on your ass, kneading the soft skin there. You try to hold his gaze for as long as you can, but the pleasure starts to overwhelm you and you can’t do anything but shut your eyes, head falling back as loud moans escape your lips. There’s no way you could have kept it quiet, so you’re extremely grateful that Sunghoon’s living quarters are far enough away to avoid an audience.

Despite the immense pleasure of being on top of him and of choosing your own rhythm, your thighs start to hurt after a few minutes of this. Thankfully, Sunghoon notices your decreasing pace and the way your legs falter, and takes things into his own hands, finally ready to stop edging and bring the both of you to your ends. One hand on your lower back, one arm wrapped around your shoulders, he presses your chest firmly to his, hugging you tight, and starts bucking his hips into you at a pace that has you crying out into his shoulder. Your hands find purchase in his hair, pulling tight enough to hurt at the roots. If Sunghoon stops, it might be the death of you, so even if it’s a struggle to get the words out, you want to let him know how you feel.

“Fuck, Sunghoon, right there, please don’t stop, please- oh, my God!”

The sound of your two bodies coming together is lewd, but it only adds to your bliss, and in just thirty seconds of this, the knot in your stomach breaks loose and sends your whole body trembling against Sunghoon’s. He’s not long after you, the sound of his name over and over on your tongue as you cum sending him tumbling over the edge. You feel hot tears streaming down your face at the relief of finally having come undone, and the sounds leaving your lips now are fainter, your body too weak to even make any noise.

You stay like this for a few moments, body limp on top of his, allowing your breaths to return to normal. You’ve had two boyfriends before, and they were the only two you’d ever had sex with, so it’s not like you had already discovered everything about the joys of sex, but you knew for sure that it didn’t always feel like this, didn’t always take you to heaven and back. Usually, you’d have stood up and cleaned yourself by now, but with Sunghoon, you never want to leave this spot. Fall asleep like this, wake up like this, stay as long as you wanted like this. But after a few minutes, Sunghoon stirs and you jolt out of your daze, getting off of him, wincing slightly at the sensitivity between your legs.

He slips from his seated position and lays on his back. You follow suit, turning your body towards the ceiling, suddenly feeling shy at the idea of touching him, of getting closer - or maybe scared that he’ll suddenly want to be left alone, or worse, never want to see you again. But all your negative thoughts dissipate when he shifts to his stomach, sliding slightly down the bed to rest his head on your chest, burying his face there, hugging your waist tight, and letting out a contented sigh. Although your heart swells at his ridiculously cute actions, to say you aren’t a bit surprised would be a lie - after seeing a leading, more dominant side to him all week, since he was the one teaching you the dance and guiding you through the moves, you had thought it would translate to the way he was in bed. Yet, he had let you do what you wanted, let you set your own pace, as much as he had himself. And now, he was perfectly happy seeking out your affection and not making you come to him. It made you appreciate him that much more.

One of your hands makes its way to his back, grazing your fingernails along the expanse of it, while the other plays gently with his hair. You fall asleep in record time, perfectly at peace and exhausted from so much exertion.

When you wake up a few hours later, you’re still laying on your back, and although Sunghoon has drifted away, probably due to the heat in the room, your legs are still intertwined and he’s got an arm resting on your midriff. There’s nothing to let you know the time, so you look out the window and notice with panic that the sun has started to rise, which means it must be close to six a.m. You try to shake Sunghoon awake, but he just grumbles something incoherent and hugs you tighter to him, which you absolutely would have swooned over if you didn’t need to get back to your bungalow - and so you shake him harder.

“Sunghoon, wake up!” you say, far too quietly for it to actually wake him up, but he looks so cute asleep that it’d break your heart to wake him up too harshly.

“Why…” he whines, face buried in your neck and voice coming out muffled.

“I don’t want my father to notice that I’m gone,” you say, the aftertaste of the words bitter in your mouth.

“Why, what time is it?” he asks, slowly coming to his senses.

“I’m not sure, but he never wakes up late, so I don’t wanna risk it.” Your father, needing a real break from intense work days, had started waking up at 6:45 instead of 5:30 every morning. How relaxing.

“But I want you to stay,” Sunghoon grumbles, and you bless him for speaking your own thoughts but also curse him for making it harder to leave.

“I know, so do I. But I’ll see you later, okay?”

A beat. “Fine,” he sighs, then pushes himself off of you. He doesn’t look at you while you put your clothes back on and walk out of the room, but you know he can’t have fallen asleep again so quickly, so you’re terrified of having said or done something extremely wrong, but you can’t take it back now, so you just close the door behind you and rush back to your own bed.

The breakfast table is completely silent, the tension between you and your father clear to your mother, who doesn’t say anything, scared of accidentally adding fuel to the fire, and even to your sister, who eats her grapefruit quietly, darting her eyes back and forth between the three of you. Jay shows up from only God knows where and, not even trying to read the room, asks cheerfully what you’re all planning on performing at the show.

“We won’t be at the show,” your father says, making everyone’s heads snap towards him. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning, miss the weekend traffic.”

“We haven’t discussed this, honey,” your mother says just as Seeun whines, “But Daddy, we’ll miss the show!” You keep quiet, pretending the overcooked scrambled eggs on your plate are the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen.

“It’s the biggest night of the season!” Jay chimes in, also trying to persuade him.

“Yeah, and I wanted to sing something!” your sister adds.

Your father looks back and forth between your mother’s and sister’s bewildered faces, then sighs and begrudgingly bows to their wishes. “Alright, alright, it was just an idea.”

A smile breaks on your mother’s face and Seeun clasps her hands together with a small noise of joy. “Perfect,” Jay exclaims, pointing a finger at you as he walks away. “Baby, I’ll need you for props.”

“So, Seeun, what songs do you have in mind?” your father asks and gets up, gesturing at your sister to follow him, although he looks completely uninterested. She practically jumps up from her seat and starts listing all her song ideas, leaving her half-finished breakfast behind.

You finish eating your own, making small talk with your mother for long enough so that she isn’t suspicious of your trying to escape, although you can tell she knows something is up and just won’t mention it. You thank her silently for it, and excuse yourself from the table to go check up on Chaewon.

When you get to her room, she’s still in bed, but isn’t sleeping and doesn’t look in pain anymore - she’s sitting up, flicking through a fashion magazine. She smiles brightly when she sees you at her door, discarding the magazine and extending her hands out to you.

“How are you feeling?” you ask as you take her hands in yours, crouching next to her bed.

“Much, much better,” she says, sounding relieved at her own answer. “You just missed your father. He’s an amazing man.”

You only have time to talk for a minute when the door opens once again to reveal Sunghoon. Seeing him creates a pit in your stomach, either from the memory of what you did last night or from the way you had to escape soon thereafter. You stand up straight, taking a few steps away from Chaewon. He looks at you briefly before turning his attention to her, and asks the same question you did moments prior.

“I’m feeling a lot better. Baby’s father says I’m still able to have children.”

“That’s great, Chaewon, that’s amazing,” Sunghoon says, sounding relieved.

“But what about you guys? How did the show go last night?” she asks, a hopeful expression on her face.

Sunghoon glances at you, and you avoid his gaze as best you can. “It went well,” he simply says, not explaining any further.

“Yeah, I didn’t do the lifts, but other than that it went well.”

Chaewon looks at him, then at you, and all at once notices the awkward tension in the air - and she understands the situation as clearly as if it had been written out in black and white for her.

It’s silent for a few seconds until you speak. “Well, I guess I better go then… I’ll see you around.” You give Chaewon a small smile and head to the door, letting your eyes linger on Sunghoon before slipping out. But of course, you can’t actually bring yourself to leave, and sit on the stairs a few meters away from the door. From where you are, you can hear every word spoken inside the cabin.

“Sunghoon,” Chaewon starts.

“So, you’re feeling better, huh?”

“Sunghoon.”

“But you should still get some rest, right?”

“Sunghoon, stop it.” That shuts him up. “What are you doing? You’ve told me so many times not to get mixed up with them,” she says, sounding at once worried and reproachful.

“I know what I’m doing, alright?”

“Sunghoon, listen to me you gotta stop it, you know it’s not gonna end well-”

“I said I know what I’m doing,” he snaps, but seems to immediately regret it. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Chaewon, I just- you’re in no position to be worrying about me right now. I know what I’m doing. I trust her.” There’s a small silence, and you have no idea what expression Chaewon must be wearing right now. Is she unsure, satisfied, worried, angry? Is she nodding, trying to respect his decision, or looking like Sunghoon’s making the biggest mistake of his life? “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later, alright? Rest up.”

“Alright, see you later, Hoon,” she says quietly, and when Sunghoon opens the door, he finds you waiting for him. You stand up and just look at him, unsure how to express what’s on your mind. You’d completely forgotten everything you had meant to tell him.

“Oh, hey, Baby,” he says upon seeing you.

“Hey.”

You both just stand there, staring at each other, no idea how to start the much-needed conversation.

“Look, I’ve got a uh, a lesson I need to go to right now, so…” he trails off.

“Right, right, no problem,” you say, nodding far too vigorously.

“But I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, you will.”

Neither of you move for a few moments, and you feel like you’re completely stuck in place, unable to move until you’ve had the reassurance that things can stay as they were between you and Sunghoon. But he walks past you, already a few meters away when you gather the courage to call out his name, and he turns around so quickly, you dare to hope he might have been waiting for you to do so. You don’t say anything, you just smile, and hope he understands. He smiles back, an actual smile where his dimples appear and the corners of his eyes crinkle, and you know that for now at least, everything is okay.

“God, I am so sick of this rain,” your sister complains as she dabs powder on her face, covering up non-existent blemishes. All four of you are in the living room of your bungalow, resting after lunch and getting ready for the rest of the day. You and your father play a boring game of checkers, trying to make the tension disappear slowly, while your mother reads some detective novel.

“Where is my beige iridescent lipstick?” Seeun asks furiously, punctuating each of her words, as if that was the kind of everyday thing that lies about in everyone’s house.

Your father wins the game and looks relieved that it’s over more than anything. You pick up a light raincoat and head towards the door, but your mother calls out your name, stopping you in your tracks.

“Where are you going in this weather?” she asks with curiosity rather than wariness in her voice.

“They’re playing charades in the main lobby,” you reply casually, used to giving out random excuses by now.

“Quite the little joiner, are we?” your sister teases, and you’re not sure if she’s just making fun of you or if she knows you’re up to something but you ignore her anyway and walk out of the cabin.

You make your way to Sunghoon’s place as quickly as you can to avoid the rain. You had ran into him that morning and, when your parents weren’t looking, he let you know that he was free all afternoon with a smile that was as good as a spoken invitation.

He brings you into a hug as soon as you’ve closed the door behind you and presses a kiss to the top of your head, murmuring an apology into your hair. “I’m sorry I acted so awkwardly yesterday. You left so suddenly that night, and I was scared you regretted it…”

You lean back and gaze into his eyes. “I regret absolutely nothing, Sunghoon.”

He breathes out a relieved sigh, smiling as he nods. “Good. Me either.”

You press your lips to his, and although the kiss starts out slow and soft, it doesn’t take long for things to heat up. You let out a small yelp when Sunghoon lifts you up and carries you to the bed, laying you down gently on the mattress. He holds up to the promise he’d made the other night - namely, making you cum on his tongue and fingers as much as you want, or rather, as you soon find out, as much as he wants.

He starts by undressing you slowly, taking his time to revel in the sight of your naked body and the idea that it’s all for him. He only leaves your panties on, rubbing small circles over your clothed clit as he works his mouth on your nipples and breasts, paying each side its due attention. He then makes his way down, leaving warm kisses everywhere he can from your stomach to your inner thighs, and makes sure to work you up and have you squirming before actually slipping your panties off and giving you what you want. Once he’s wrapped his lips around your clit, it’s like he can’t get enough. With two fingers inside you, he sucks and licks at the sensitive bud for what feels like so long that you don’t know how his wrist and jaw don’t get tired. You don’t even try to count the number of times he makes you cum, simply taking every orgasm in stride, and even though you get so sensitive after a while, you’ve entered some sort of blissful, exhausted daze that you can’t bring yourself to break away from.

Afterwards, you’re lying next to Sunghoon, your head resting on his chest and grazing your fingernails up and down his arm while he plays with your hair. You’ve somehow managed not to fall asleep despite the tiredness filling your entire body, and you and Sunghoon talk quietly, the sound of the rain outside like a peaceful background song. You listen to him describe his dream of opening a dance school someday and choreographing professionally, then he listens as you talk about all the places you want to visit and the things you want to learn about the world. You share childhood memories and awkward first kiss anecdotes and compare your relationships with your parents and the similar sort of pressure they put on your shoulders, albeit for two very reasons.

“My dad especially, he just doesn’t understand that dancing can be an actual profession. He sees it as some kind of hobby I’ve had since I was a teenager and that it’ll pass soon when I realize I can’t make a living out of it. He completely ignores the fact I get paid more in three months here than in half-a-year with him, but he doesn’t mind taking the part of my salary I give our family when I come back, that’s for sure,” he chuckles humorlessly. “I’m scared he’ll think I’m betraying him if I don’t take up his carpentry business.”

“I was top of my class in elementary school, and my parents thought that meant I was the brightest little girl in the world and would grow up to achieve great things,” you explain in a joke-admirative voice. “And even if they tried not to say anything, I could see the disappointment on their faces when I brought home a B or was ranked third at a test. I’m happy I got into Yale, and that they can afford to pay for my studies, but it’s just gonna be even more pressure for four more years.” After a beat, you decide to add, “I can only forget about all of this when I’m with you. You just make all of my worries disappear for a while.”

The conversation takes a slightly sentimental tone as you tell each other what your first impression of the other was. You admit sheepishly to Sunghoon that you were attracted to him as soon as you saw him dancing with Chaewon that first night, and that you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him after he danced with you, even though you found him a bit of an asshole the first couple of days he taught you the dance. You tell him you were sure he hated you at first, and he reveals that he didn’t at all.

“But I can see why you thought that. I just… I had never met anyone like you, Baby. Someone who thought she could just show up somewhere and decide to help a stranger out for no other reason than to help them out of the kindness of their heart. I didn’t know if you were the most foolish or the bravest person ever. And yeah, I’ll admit, I wasn’t the nicest to you at first. I kinda have this thing against… against rich people, I guess,” he says, chuckling softly. “For me, a wealthy person is like Max, or Jay, or all those ladies here. They use their wealth to get you to do what you want. But you’re not like that, and it took me a while to understand that. I’m sorry,” he finishes, pressing another kiss to your hair.

“No, no, it’s okay… I’m sorry they’ve all treated you like that. You deserve better.” He thanks you quietly and a comfortable silence settles between the two of you for a few minutes and you’re close to falling asleep when Sunghoon calls out your name.

“Hm?”

“What’s your real name?”

You raise your head to look at him and flash him a big smile. It’s been ages since someone asked you that, most people not bothering to question your nickname.

“It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N…” he echoes, gazing at you lovingly. “It fits you perfectly.”

You press a gentle kiss to his lips in response, and you think it’s gonna end at that, but Sunghoon pulls you back in right as you’re about to lean out, and you know you’re done for. You’re still extremely sensitive but that only adds to the pleasure of him filling you up, intertwining your fingers with him as you make love, his thrusts slow but deep and your bodies pressed flush against each other. Your heart is bursting with something that you can only recognize as love.

That night, as you’re on the verge of falling asleep, your sister says something that jolts you awake.

“I’ve decided to go all the way with Heeseung,” she says, a hint of a smile in her voice.

You snap your head towards her. “What? Seeun, no, you shouldn’t-”

“I’ve already thought about everything. I want it to happen on the night of rehearsals, I know what I’ll wear-”

“No, Seeun, listen, you can’t do it with Heeseung, I’ve already told you he’s bad news!” you whisper-scream, trying to get some sense into her head without your parents overhearing.

“Who else with, then?” she whisper-shouts back.

“Just- I don’t know, but not with him, it needs to be with someone you actually love, someone you can trust-”

“I can trust Heeseung. I do trust him - more than I trust you, actually,” she says, the conversation taking another turn.

“Seeun-”

“No, Baby. You don’t actually care about this, or even about me. All you care about is that you’re not Daddy’s little girl anymore. He listens when I talk now.” She turns her back to you with a huff.

“Seeun-” you try again, but she’s already done talking.

“Goodnight.”

You want to find a way to stop your sister from wasting an important experience like having sex for the first time on a guy like Heeseung, but you also know that once she’s set her mind to something, it’s hard to stop Seeun from doing it. Maybe this will be a lesson for her to learn from, you think, trying to reassure yourself.

The next afternoon, when your parents are busy playing cards with another couple and Seeun is off somewhere with her friends, you sneak off to visit Sunghoon in his dance classroom. He has an hour free in between classes and you use that opportunity to mess around for a bit. You put on a song you both love and dance together whichever way you want, acting out and lipsyncing to the lyrics. You have fun teasing him by swerving your head when he leans in for a kiss or trailing your hand along his arms, shoulders and back.

The sound of loud footsteps coming up the stairs spoils your fun, and you quickly position yourself face to the mirror and pretend you’re practicing basic mambo moves while Sunghoon heads to the record player. The one and only Jay stands at the door and seems to falter for a second at seeing you here.

“Hey, Baby, taking dance lessons?” You simply nod at him. “I could teach you kid,” he says, mirroring your moves and dancing a few steps until Sunghoon makes the record scratch, stopping the music abruptly. Jay’s arms drop to the side and he gives you a look as if to say “check this guy out,” and you try not to roll your eyes at him.

“Sunghoon,” he says, walking towards him with all the confidence of a boss talking to his employee. The addressee simply raises his chin at him, pretending to busy himself with the record player. “My grandfather put me in charge of the talent show, and I’ve been thinking about the final dance. I’d like to uh, you know, do something different-”

“Yeah?”

“Move with the times-”

“Yeah? That’s great, I’ve got plenty of ideas-” Sunghoon says, speaking so quickly he cuts himself off, but Jay’s smile drops instantly. “We’ve been working on something with the staff, it goes like-”

You watch in the mirror as Sunghoon dances a step you’ve never seen before, and it looks really cool but Jay shakes his head, gesturing at Sunghoon to quiet down like he would a kid, as if they weren’t the exact same age.

“Woah there, you’re way over your head, boy.” Sunghoon stands up straight once again, jaw locked tight. “I was thinking, instead of doing the last dance to the mambo, how about, this year, doing it to the pachanga?” Jay asks, looking at you with a smile and nodding, as if he’d just said the most revolutionary thing ever.

“Right,” Sunghoon says coldly, bursting Jay’s bubble.

“Well,” he says, clearing his throat, “you’re more than welcome to do the same tired number as the previous years, but I’m sure that next summer, we’ll find a dance instructor who’s-”

“The pachanga,” Sunghoon cuts him off, raising his voice over Jay’s. “Great idea, Jay, let’s do that.”

A satisfied smile grows on Jay’s lips as Sunghoon turns back to the record player, and he struts back towards you. When he’s close enough, he leans in and says conspiratorially, but still loud enough for Sunghoon to hear, “He’s, uh, a bit hard to get through to sometimes, but the ladies seem to like him.” He doesn’t realize that you’re one of said ladies. “Make sure you’re getting the full half-hour you’re paying, kid,” he says once he’s at the door, and slips out on that graceful note.

Sunghoon’s next class takes place on the gazebo, so you accompany him there, trying to keep up with his long strides made quicker by his frustration. “God, I just hate that guy, he has no idea what he’s talking about. He wouldn’t recognise a good idea if it hit him in the pachanga,” he huffs angrily.

“But can’t you just talk to him? I’m sure he’d listen if you’d just tell him-”

“Didn’t you see what happened, Baby? He won’t listen. I can’t get everything I want just by asking, he’s the one with the money, with the power, I can’t do anything-”

“But it isn’t right! You have to fight harder-”

“That’s not how it works for me, Baby-”

You let out a small gasp, interrupting Sunghoon whose head pivots towards you, but you take him by the shoulders and bring him down to a crouch next to you. He follows your gaze to find your father, leaving a building with Heeseung and Seeun. Your dad brings his arm around Heeseung and shakes his shoulder in a fatherly manner while Seeun looks at them with a smile.

Sunghoon’s muscles tense in realization - you don’t want to be caught with him, especially not by your father.

You’re completely oblivious to this, and stand back up when the three of them are out of sight. “Alright, I think they’re gone,” you say, and only realize what you’ve done when you see the tight expression on Sunghoon’s face.

“Fight harder, huh?”

You just messed up real bad. “No, Sunghoon, I was planning on telling him, I just haven’t yet-”

“I don’t believe you, Baby. I don’t think you’ve ever had the intention of telling him,” he says, shaking his head. His eyes look down at you harshly, and it hurts so much more now than when you’d just met.

“Sunghoon, please-”

“I gotta go. I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

You watch Sunghoon’s shrinking figure, cursing yourself for your cowardice and for your inability to do exactly what you preach. Your father was already so disappointed in you for simply being friends with Sunghoon, so if he knew what you were actually up to, he might go and disown you.

A few hours with no one to spend them with get you thinking. You had always thought your father was the best man on earth. Funny, loving, kind, fair. But you now realize it might not be so - he is prejudiced towards people who aren’t like him and isn’t forgiving of others’ mistakes. He made you believe in a world where everyone should be equal, but he himself doesn’t treat everyone the same.

You also hate what this is doing to Sunghoon. You, who had told him he deserved everything he wanted, weren’t even capable of holding his hand proudly for everyone to see. So, for Sunghoon’s sake as well as for your own, you have to tell your father how you feel for Sunghoon, and put up a fight if he tries to stop it.

But first, you had to find Sunghoon and apologize. It’s nearing dinnertime, and he shouldn’t be working anymore, so you go look for him in his room. He isn’t there, so you head to his dance studio, then the gazebo, and anywhere else you can think of where he might have classes. But he’s nowhere to find, and after half-an-hour of running around, your last option is to go ask Chaewon where Sunghoon might be. At least, you know she’ll be in her room, still recovering.

You take a second to catch your breath then knock on Chaewon’s door, then wait until she calls you in to open the door. “Hey, Chaewon, have you seen Sunghoon?” you ask, only realizing after you’ve said the words that it might be rude to be so direct, but you don’t have time to apologize because your eyes shift to the other person in the room, who is, of course, Sunghoon himself. He stands up from his seat on the armchair in the corner, looking at you with an unreadable expression. He could be anywhere on a scale where one extreme is ‘he hates you and never wants to talk to you again’ and ‘he has never been so relieved to see you’ and you’d have no idea.

“Can we, um, talk? Outside, if it’s okay?” you ask, eyes darting back and forth between Sunghoon and Chaewon. She smiles and jerks her head towards the door, silently telling Sunghoon to go with you. He purses his lips and nods, following you outside and closing the door behind him.

He rests his palms on the banister of the front porch, looking out at the lawn and the resort buildings in the distance. You stand behind him, bringing your palms up to his arms and kissing his shoulder. He closes his eyes and sighs, basking in your touch despite himself. “I’m sorry, Sunghoon. I’m sorry.”

He turns around, gazing down at you with that unreadable expression on his face. “It’s okay. I understand.”

When he kisses you, the relief in your bones is like nothing else, better even than coming home to your bed after a long, tiring day, or than getting a good grade on a test you thought you’d failed. Your arms wrap around his neck while his find their way to your waist, and you revel in the closeness of your bodies and the taste of his lips, like mint and something uniquely Sunghoon that you can’t ever get enough of.

But unfortunately, you stay long enough in this position to attract the attention of a one-man audience. “Damn, guess I picked the wrong sister,” you hear Heeseung chuckle, and when you pull away from Sunghoon, you see that insufferable smirk on his face. How you wish you could just smack it off of there. “Didn’t know you put out like that, Baby.”

It all happens so quickly, you don’t have time to understand what’s going on, let alone stop Sunghoon from jumping over the banister. He stomps over to Heeseung, grabbing him by the collar and shaking hard.

“Repeat what you just said, I dare you,” he says in a low, menacing voice, face close to Heeseung’s. The latter’s smirk falters for just a split second before coming back, as if incapable of not looking like an arrogant asshole for more than a few seconds at a time.

“I said,” Heeseung starts, “that I hadn’t thought Baby was so fucking easy.”

Heeseung has barely finished speaking that Sunghoon has raised his fist back, ready to strike the insolent expression off of the boy’s face. It’d be satisfying, that’s for sure, but it wouldn’t be worth risking his job, so you call out his name and make him stop in his tracks. He doesn’t look back at you, though, just keeps his hard gaze fixated on Heeseung, breathing heavily in anger.

“Sunghoon, please,” you repeat, pleading with him.

“So, what’s it gonna be, loverboy?” Heeseung teases, but Sunghoon just drops his fist and pushes him away, making him stumble a few steps back.

“You’re not worth it,” Sunghoon practically spits, sending one last cold look his way before walking back to you.

You don’t care enough to check how Heeseung reacts, just watching Sunghoon make his way back to you, relieved nothing happened. He stands in front of the banister, the height difference allowing you to hug his head to your chest and you press a kiss to the top of his head, whispering in his hair that you’re proud of him.

Soon afterwards, you have to head back to the building where the talent show will happen. He could do it anywhere else, but Sunghoon decides to plan out his performance in the same room, using the excuse of needing to see the stage just to stay around you.

You’re painting some sort of fake coconut tree while competitors rehearse their performance, your sister by far the loudest of them. You try not to cringe as her dissonant voice reverbs around the room, but nobody pays her too much attention. It’s hard not to steal glances every two seconds at Sunghoon, and you tell yourself that he just looks especially good today in his tight black t-shirt and black jeans, but you also know he looks good everyday. His gaze also strays towards you more often than not, and you try not to burst into giggles every time your eyes meet, not wanting to raise any suspicion.

This room is also where a group of men play their games of poker, and since it was big enough to host all of you, they had decided to stay there even through the preparations, sure that it wouldn’t disrupt their game.

The not-staring takes on another level of difficulty when a lady you recognize as Vivian Kim leaves her spot standing behind her husband at the poker table to make her way to Sunghoon, walking in a fashion far too languorous for your taste.

From where you are, you can’t hear exactly what she says, but it’s not hard to guess - an invitation to spend the night with her while her husband is busy, one last time before she leaves the resort and goes home.

Sunghoon stays silent but that doesn’t seem to deter her, and she flashes him a lurid smile before walking back to the poker table. He turns his head to check if you’ve seen what happened, but you look away from him and back at your coconut tree, hoping the jealousy you’re feeling isn’t written all over your face.

Vivian’s husband calls out Sunghoon’s name, waving him over good-naturedly. You watch once again as Sunghoon walks over to the table and as Mr Kim pulls out dollar bills from his wallet. “Tonight’s the final poker tournament, so how about some dance lessons for my wife?” he asks, and you can’t tell from his tone whether he thinks that dance lessons really are what his money is paying for or if he knows what’s actually going on.

Sunghoon takes the money and Mr Kim smiles at him, returning to the game, but Sunghoon just stands there, staring at the bills in his hands, then to Vivian, behind him to you, and finally back at Mr Kim. “Thanks, Mr Kim, but I’m all booked up for the rest of the week ‘cause of the show, so I don’t think it’d be fair to take the money.”

Mr Kim nods as Sunghoon hands him back the cash, saying he appreciates his honesty. Vivian looks at him, eyes wide, obviously surprised at his sudden refusal. Sunghoon walks back to his seat, sending a small smile your way, and you try your best not to gloat.

In the past few days, it’s become a bit of a habit to sneak out of your bungalow and rush to Sunghoon’s when your family has gone to sleep. Except tonight, what you don’t know is that Seeun hears you, because she’s planning on doing the exact same thing and paying Heeseung a visit. You’re already with your own lover when she heads out of the room, skipping in excitement and anticipation the whole way there. She’s applied lotion to her entire body, sprayed perfume to her neck, wrists and ankles, and has read all the sex advice columns of her favorite magazines - she’s more than prepared for this.

She reaches the door. Takes a deep breath in, stands up straight. Calls out, “Heeseung, it’s me!” but no answer comes. So she opens the door slightly, and almost drops her bag at the sight in front of her, gasping loudly. She has just enough reflex to close the door again and rest her back against it, taking a few seconds to let it sink in before running back to her bed, where she promptly explodes into tears.

Now more than ever, she wishes her sister was here, whether to comfort her or to say “I told you so.” She wishes you were here to help her make sense of finding Vivian Kim and Heeseung naked together in his bed when he had spent weeks making her believe he wanted to be with her and her only. She wishes you would curse him out and call him all the names she wants to but doesn’t have the courage to.

But unfortunately, you’re not there with her. Instead, you’re with Sunghoon, laying together in bed, your head resting on his chest and your legs intertwined. You’re both spent from a night of lovemaking and from your shower that was supposed to be innocent but quickly turned steamy. You wake up at dawn, knowing you’ll have to go soon but heart breaking at the thought of tearing yourself from Sunghoon’s warm embrace. You press soft kisses to his neck and whisper his name, trying to wake him up gently. His eyes stay closed as he tightens his arms around you and pleads with you to stay just a little bit longer, and you’re not strong enough to say no.

“I had a dream earlier where your father called me ‘son’ and put his arm around me like he did with Heeseung earlier.” His morning voice is raspy from sleep and sends butterflies straight to your stomach.

“I’m sorry, Sunghoon,” you hum. “I’ll talk to him today. I’ll tell him about you.”

You feel his chest rise up then down as he sighs. “I thought about it, and I feel like it’d make things even worse if he knew about us. He just seems to think I’m a bad guy, for some reason, and me being with his daughter will only make him hate me more.”

“But you’re not a bad guy. You’re the best guy,” you say, voice slightly whiny. You’re too sleepy to come up with a better reply, and it makes Sunghoon chuckle.

“Thanks, Baby.” He presses a kiss to your hair, and it’s become such a familiar gesture that you’re not sure how you’ll live without it once you go home.

It’s not long before you have to head back to your bungalow, and Sunghoon walks you outside, slotting his lips with yours for one last time this morning and making plans to meet up later. You don’t pay attention to anything other than him - not to the slight breeze picking up, or the sun rising, or the staff bungalows, off to the side from Sunghoon’s. But not paying attention means not noticing a figure standing on one of those staff bungalows, not seeing her eyes squinting at yours and Sunghoon’s embrace, first recognising him, and, once her initial shock wears off, recognising you. Because of course, just like you, Vivian Kim has to leave Heeseung’s bungalow before anyone notices - except that in your case, someone notices you.

And the consequences of it appear only a few hours later, as your family are having a late breakfast with Max and Jay. When the conversation first begins, you don’t think it’ll be of much importance to you.

“You know that feeling when you look at a patient and think he’s all fine, but then you get his x-rays and something’s completely wrong?” Max starts, addressing your father. “That’s exactly what it is to find out one of your staff, a trusted one at that, is a thief.”

“What happened, Max?” your father asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Mr Kim’s wallet was stolen,” Max simply says, sighing. Jay jumps on the opportunity to explain the story himself, leaning in conspiratorially.

“It happened yesterday night when he was playing poker. One minute, his wallet was right there in his coat pocket, hanging on his chair behind him, and the next, it wasn’t.” Your sister lets out a small gasp.

“Vivian says she saw that dance kid Sunghoon walk by,” Max continues, and your head snaps up at the mention of Sunghoon’s name. “So we go and ask him if he’s got an alibi, and he says he was in his room alone all night, reading.”

Jay snorts. “There is not a single book in Sunghoon Park’s room.”

The whole time, you’re shaking your head slightly, unable to believe that Sunghoon might be wrongfully framed for this. You turn towards Jay, a pleading expression on your face. “Listen, there’s been a mistake, there’s no way Sunghoon did it-”

“There’s been similar thefts at the Sheldrake and even here. Three wallets stolen, and now Mr Kim’s!”

“No, I know he didn’t do it-”

“Stay out of it, Baby!” Jay snaps at you. You look at him in disbelief, because of the way he just talked to you, because of what they’re accusing Sunghoon of, but above all because it’s inconceivable that your parents ever wanted to set you up with a guy like him. Entitled, judgmental, unkind.

But you can’t just stay out of it - this concerns Sunghoon, and if you can stop it from happening, you’ll do everything so that he doesn’t lose his job over a false accusation. So you turn towards your father and Max, and plead Sunghoon’s case.

“I know Sunghoon didn’t take Mr Kim’s wallet, I know.”

“How can you be so sure?” your father asks.

“I-I can’t tell you, but Daddy, please, you have to trust me.”

Your father sighs, turning his attention back to his plate. “I’m sorry, Baby, but I can’t.”

“But- it could’ve been anyone else,” you continue, looking at Max now that your father avoids your gaze. “Maybe it was- oh, maybe it was that little old couple, the Schumachers, I saw her with a couple of wallets-”

“The Schumachers? Impossible,” Max refutes as your father furrows his eyebrows at you, raising his voice slightly.

“You don’t go around accusing innocent people, Baby!”

“But I saw them, I saw them at the Sheldrake- you said something was stolen at the Sheldrake, right?” you say, turning towards Jay again, your voice growing desperate.”

“Listen, Baby,” Max cuts in, voice calm but firm, “I’ve got an eyewitness and the kid has no alibi. Come on, Jay, let me show you how to fire an employee.”

You catch his wrist before he can turn away and gulp, preparing yourself for what you were about to say. “Wait a minute. I know Sunghoon didn’t do it, I know it, because he was in his room all night, and I know that because,” you pause for a second, risking a glance at your father, “because I was there with him.”

The table goes silent. You can feel yourself weighing down under the heavy gazes of everyone seated. After a few seconds that feel like an eternity, Max clears his throat and awkwardly says, “Right, well, we’ll investigate some more in light of these news-”

He’s cut off by the screech of your father’s chair being roughly pushed back. You watch as your father leaves the room, steam coming out of his ears, and you can only hope revealing the truth will be worth it in the end.

After giving your father some time to cool off, you find him in the empty gazebo, looking out at the lake. The water is still except for the parts where ducks dip their heads in and back out. Even now that the rain has stopped pouring every day, clouds still render the sky a blinding white, and the sun only appears now and then when they part enough to let a ray through. There’s a slight breeze that makes leaves flutter around, and you need to tighten your light cardigan around your shoulders.

You know he sees you approaching, but he keeps his gaze fixated on the lake, even when you call out to him.

“I told you I wasn’t lying about Sunghoon,” you start. “But I’m sorry I lied about the money. I’m not proud of myself for that, you know. But you lied too,” you say, and he finally looks at you, awaiting an explanation. “You told me everyone deserved a fair break, but you meant everyone like you. You said I could change the world, but you meant by becoming a lawyer, or an economist, and marrying someone from Harvard!”

He closes his eyes as if in pain, then looks back out to the lake, staying silent. “I made a mistake. There’s things about me you don’t know, and things you might not like, but I’m in this family too, and if you love me, you’ll have to love my faults too.” Your voice shakes and your eyes start to water. Seeing your father’s eyes do the same only adds to the difficulty of saying what you want to say.

“Because I love you, Daddy, and I’m sorry I let you down, but you let me down too!” Your voice completely breaks on those last words, and you turn away, letting your feet guide you wherever before your dad can hear the sob that escapes your throat. You know your dad’s silent treatment won’t last for long, so you leave him in the gazebo to think and cry as much as he needs to.

Your body must have developed new instincts, because soon enough, you find yourself in Sunghoon’s cabin, unsure how you even got here. His things are still there, which reassures you of the fact that he hasn’t left yet. You pace back and forth in the room for a few minutes until your emotions suddenly come crashing down, all the stress and tension and strung feelings, leaving behind only exhaustion. You lay on Sunghoon’s bed, thinking you’ll just close your eyes for a few minutes. But when you open them again, they fall on Sunghoon’s face, and you have no idea how long you’ve been there.

“Sunghoon?” you murmur.

“I have been looking for you all over,” he says, crouching in front of you, and gives you time to sit up and rub the sleep out of your eyes. “You were right about the Schumachers. Fingerprinted their glasses. Turns out they were wanted in a bunch of other states for theft too. They found them when they were already trying to leave the resort,” he explains, and your smile grows wider and wider as he speaks.

“Oh my God, that’s amazing! I knew it’d work out!”

But Sunghoon diverts his gaze down, unable to match your euphoric expression. “I’m out, Baby.”

You quickly put two and two together. “They fired you anyway because of me.”

“And if I leave quietly, I get my summer bonus,” he says sarcastically.

Your anger makes you stand up, walk to one corner of the room then back, your voice rising on its own accord. “So I did it all for nothing, then? I hurt my family, you lost your job anyway - it was all for nothing!”

“It was not for nothing!” Sunghoon exclaims, volume matching yours. “Nobody has ever done anything like that for me!” He searches your eyes for the reassurance that everything that happened this summer was worth it, but he only finds sorrow in them.

“You were right, Sunghoon,” you say with a sad smile, voice lowering to a hum, “you can’t change anything no matter how hard you try.”

“No, Baby,” he says, walking towards you, “I don’t want that from you, you hear me? You can. You can do whatever you want.”

Your gazes stay locked in each other for a few painful moments until it becomes unbearable and you have to look away. “I used to think so too.”

There’s nothing left to say. You watch silently as Sunghoon begins packing the few belongings he has in two small suitcases and a rucksack, then help out when the passivity starts to make your muscles ache. He hasn’t got much, so he’s done in just a few minutes, and you don’t realize you have tears pooling in your eyes until Sunghoon himself notices and wordlessly takes you in his arms.

You’re heading to his car when he suddenly stops in his tracks, saying he has something he needs to do first. You don’t question it, just agree to wait for him. It’s not like you’ve got anything better to do anyway.

A few minutes later, unbeknownst to you, Sunghoon is knocking on your cabin’s door. Just as he’d hoped, your father is the one to open the door, squinting his eyes meanly at the young man behind it as soon as he realizes who he is. Your father stays silent as he stares Sunghoon down, making a chill run down Sunghoon’s neck. He clears his throat before speaking. “Doctor, I-” he starts, already cutting himself off to take off his sunglasses. “I’m going anyway, and I know what you must be thinking-”

“You don’t know anything about me,” your father interrupts, shaking his head in disdain at Sunghoon. “Anything at all.”

Sunghoon had really wanted to stay calm and focused, to just say what he wanted to stay, but now that he’s leaving, he has no reason to put up with the blatant disrespect and contempt of the clients and higher-ups any longer. “I know you want Baby to be like you. An admirable person, the kind people look up to, but if you could just see, she’s already like that-”

“I know my daughter far better than you do, so don’t you tell me what to see,” your father practically barks, unable to contain his anger. “What I see right now is someone who got his partner in trouble and sent her off to some butcher, then moved on to a younger, innocent girl like my Baby.”

Rather than frustrated, Sunghoon’s eyes grow tired and sad. There’s no fight left in him anymore - he can see he won’t be able to change your father’s mind, there’s no point even trying. “Yeah, I guess that’s what you would see,” he murmurs before walking away, back to you, the only person who’s ever wanted to truly understand him.

And then it’s goodbye.

While you were waiting, you kicked pebbles, brooding over the fact that your already shortening time with Sunghoon was getting cut off even more. But as soon as you see him, those thoughts evaporate, and you’re left with bittersweetness in your mouth. You spent the most incredible summer with him by your side, and even though it’s coming to an end, maybe the experience and the memories are all that matters.

Sunghoon closes the trunk when he’s done packing it, and walks over to where you’re standing, back against the passenger door, arms crossed over your chest. He rests his forearm on top of the car and neither of you are able to look the other in the eye for fear of emotion overwhelming you.

“Guess we took them all by surprise, huh?” you say, trying on a light-hearted tone to dissolve the tension in the air.

“Guess we did,” he chuckles quietly, risking a glance up at you. Your eyes meet and before you can break down, you turn your body towards his, nesting your face in the crook of his neck. He presses a kiss to your hair like a hundred times before and it’s enough to make your heart break.

“I don’t know what I’ll do without you around.”

He rests his chin on the top of your head. “You’ll just have more time for card games and croquet,” he jokes, but you can’t laugh. “And Jake and Chaewon will still be around.” It’s silent for a few more minutes, and you try to commit the feeling of him against you and the smell of his skin to memory. “I’ll never be sorry,” he finally says, voice muffled by your hair.

“Neither will I,” you whisper against his neck.

He inhales deeply and tears himself away, gazing down at you sadly. With his thumb, he wipes a tear as it drops down your cheek, and presses his lips to yours in one last kiss, tasting the saltiness of your heartbreak. “I’ll see you around, Baby,” he says against your lips, forehead resting against yours. But he can’t linger - it would only make this impossible moment even harder.

Your vision is too blurry for you to see properly as he walks to the other side of the car and disappears in the driver’s seat. In a matter of seconds, his car becomes a fuzzy black dot in the distance, and you’ve no choice but to walk back to the place that made you discover love only to rip it from your hands.

The three days until the talent show feel like eternity. Counting down the minutes until you leave doesn’t make time go by any faster, but you don’t feel like doing anything else. You hang out with Chaewon and Jake and their friends when they’re free, going back with them to the staff main quarters one night, and even though the music is the same as the first time, Sunghoon’s absence changes everything. You can’t dance without imagining his hands on your waist and his voice guiding you through the steps.

Seeun is also a lot nicer to you. She tells you what happened with Heeseung, and it’s like your shared love troubles bring you closer, reminding you that you’re not so different after all. As you get ready to go watch the talent show, she sits next to you on the bed, offering to do your hair. But then she takes a strand of it in her hands, trailing her fingers through it, and looks at you with a soft smile. “You know what, I think it looks perfect just like that.”

You mirror her smile and drop your head to her shoulder. You stay like this for a few seconds, words unnecessary to understand each other. “You’ll do great tonight, Seeun. I can’t wait to watch you.”

“I know,” she replies, making you both giggle. “Now let’s go, it’ll start soon.”

You’re not surprised to see that your parents have chosen to seat you in a corner, trapped between a wall and your father. Practically the same thing, you think, but you’re wise enough to keep the comment to yourself.

The performers have gathered in a line on the stage, your sister included, to sing the resort’s last day song as a conclusion to the show now that Sunghoon isn’t here to do the final dance. Max even gets his own solo. The song goes on for far too long to your taste, so you take the time to look around the room.

The lights are dim, save for the ones on the stage so that the focus of the audience stays on the performers, and wall fixtures next to the exits so they can be found easily. Chairs have been brought to the center of the room right in front of the stage while tables line the walls, candles adorning each one. Staff don’t get seats - instead, they stand at the back of the room, their backs against the wall as they watch the stage with boredom written all over their faces. You catch Jake’s eyes and he winks at you, a mischievous smile on his face, and you chalk it up to his usual playfulness.

Heeseung walks near your table, and your father stands up, calling out to him. He gets something that looks like an envelope out of his pocket, handing it to him. “Good luck in medical school, son.” Heeseung takes the envelope, looking down at it with a smile, and your father rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you so much, Doc,” Heeseung beams. “And I also wanted to thank you for your help with the Chaewon situation, I guess we’ve all gotten into messes like these, huh?” Your father stands with his back to you, so you can only imagine the way his smile falls and his eyes harden.

“What?”

Heeseung’s smile falters slightly and he chuckles awkwardly. “I-I thought Baby told you… Look, it’s what Chaewon said, but I’m not sure, you never know with girls like that, they could pin it on anyone-”

Your father snatches the envelope back from Heeseung’s hands, glaring at him, and walks back to his seat next to you without a word. It’s only now that you understand your father’s dislike of Sunghoon - he had been certain Sunghoon was the one who had gotten Chaewon into such trouble. How could you have missed that? All this time, you thought it was just because Sunghoon was part of the staff and didn’t come from your world. Regret and frustration bubble up in your stomach. So many misunderstandings could’ve been avoided if only you had known what your father thought.

It’s only after a few minutes that he breaks the silence. “I’m sorry, Baby.”

You take a deep breath in. “Thank you, but I’m not the one you need to apologize to, Daddy.”

He turns his head to look at you. “You’re right. You’re right,” he sighs.

Just then, Jake walks past your table and towards the stage, disappearing behind the curtains on the side. You lift your head, trying to see what he’s up to, but the sound of the doors at the back of the room opening and closing loudly catches your attention. It seems to catch everybody’s attention - you hear small gasps and small murmurs of a familiar name, and your mind directly lands on the possibility, but you don’t believe it until you see it standing right in front of you, a hand reaching out to you - Sunghoon’s here.

“Nobody puts Baby in a corner.”

You take his hand and let him guide you away from the table. You’re so enchanted by seeing him again that you barely notice your mother having to keep your father from stopping you. Together, you climb up the small set of stairs, walking past the performers and standing in the middle of the stage, the music stopping abruptly. His voice booms throughout the room when he speaks.

“Sorry for the disruption folks, but I always do the last dance of the season. This year, I was told not to. So I’m gonna do my kind of dancing with a great partner. Not only is she an amazing dancer, but she also taught me that people will stand for other people no matter what it costs them, and about the kind of person I want to be myself. Miss Y/N Y/L/N, everyone.”

Whoops emerge from the back of the room where the staff are standing and you watch as Sunghoon walks to the side of the stage, discarding his leather jacket and exchanging a nod with Jake. The music starts to play - it’s a song you’ve heard before, a song you know well because you’ve danced to it many times with Sunghoon. It’s a song you love.

He walks towards you, a smirk on his face, eyes heavy with desire. He places his hands on your waist, your own coming up to his forearm, and dips you backwards in a circle, which elicits more cheers from the dancers. He then stands behind you, imitating the starting position of the dance for your performance at the Sheldrake. The music picks up, and after that, it’s like magic. You and Sunghoon know exactly what to do, a mix of the choreography he’d taught you and of other moves you had picked up when you just danced together for fun. All the steps and turns come to you as if you know this dance by heart, and the whole time, you’re looking into each other’s eyes as they shine with happiness.

Sunghoon makes you spin away from him, and, your arm extended between you two, brings your hand up to his lips and places a delicate kiss to the back of it. Then, he jumps off the stage, prompting gasps and cheers from all around the room, and makes his way while dancing to the back of the room, where the dancers join him. Seconds before the second chorus is about to start, some of them run to you and help you off the stage, and Sunghoon nods at you from the middle of the room. So you run to him, gathering momentum until you reach him and he picks you up, lifting you from the ground up into the air, and you manage to keep your bird-like position for a few seconds. A huge smile breaks on your face as everybody cheers, your mother and sister clapping excitedly and even your father looking at you, astonished, proud.

Sunghoon brings you back down slowly, grinning as he gazes at you with only love in his eyes. “I knew you could do it,” he whispers.

The staff starts to invite the guests to dance with them, pushing chairs to the side and getting people to stand up. Jake shows Seeun how to move, reminiscent of the way Sunghoon had done with you, your mother and Jay dance together, and the whole room turns into a dancefloor where couples and small groups can let go and move however they want to.

You and Sunghoon head to the exit to find a quieter place, but your father calls out to you before you can slip away. “I found out you weren’t the one to get Chaewon in trouble.” Sunghoon simply nods. “I was wrong. I apologize,” he says solemnly, and the corners of Sunghoon’s lips tug slightly upwards.

“Thank you, Doctor Y/L/N.”

Your father’s eyes drift to you, and his polite expression turns affectionate. “You looked great up there, Baby.” You sigh, relief washing over your whole body and alleviating the weight on your heart. You let go of Sunghoon’s hands to wrap your arms around your father’s neck, and he takes you in a brief but tight hug.

“I’ll let you two go now. I need to find your mother, haven’t danced with her in ages. That’s something else I can thank you for,” he says, smiling down at you.

You watch him walk away for a few seconds until Sunghoon takes your hand in his again, and you slip out the doors to the front lawn. Outside, you close your eyes and take a deep breath of fresh air in, laughing for no reason other than simple joy when your eyes meet his.

He leads you to the gazebo and brings his hands to your waist again. The song is nearing its end but you can still hear it drifting through the open doors and windows of the room. You know that even when it’s over, it’ll keep playing in your head - and in your heart.

Just like you’ll always keep Sunghoon there.

You move slowly to the rhythm of the last chorus, gazing into each other’s eyes. You want to enjoy this moment for what it is, but the fact that you’re leaving tomorrow won’t leave your thoughts. This might very well be the last time you and Sunghoon ever dance together, or ever see each other. You can give each other your address and send letters, or exchange home phone numbers and call, but how long will that last? You’ll go to college while he goes home and starts working with his father again, or finds a way to fulfill his dream.

He probably sees the sadness in your eyes and brings you closer to him. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to - you know the same thoughts are cramping his mind. Words are unnecessary, and promises are futile, so for now, you forget everything else, and focus on the sway of your bodies and on his hands holding you tight against him.

Resting the side of your head on his shoulder, you look up at the night sky. The stars are shining bright, unbothered by any clouds, and the full moon gazes down at you protectively. Even when you’re apart, you and Sunghoon will still sleep under the same moon every night. You may be just one of the many love stories she’s witnessed, but you dare to think that yours is a special one, one that can’t be reproduced, one that is uniquely yours.

You continue to dance even when the song is over, letting your bodies bask in the moonlight.

fic taglist: @jaetaimjadore @sleepingsag permanent taglist: @ozymandia-s @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 © asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not plagiarize, repost or translate my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

#sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #sunghoon angst #enhypen angst #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #sunghoon fanfiction #enhypen fanfiction #sunghoon au #enhypen au

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cerealboxlore · 6 months ago

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Can I ask about Brace for Impact? College is killing me too!

Definitely! Sorry for replying to this ask so late, I had to finish an assignment that ended up taking way too long! (why did I take a 3-week class...aaaaaa)

Brace for Impact is the first Billy Batson fic idea I ever had! It's nearly done and just sitting in a google doc of mine, gathering dust for a long while now, but it's time I head back to it.

The idea is about Billy getting braces, and how they impact his personal and superhero life. After being taken in and adopted by the Bromfield family, Billy would likely get taken to doctor appointments to catch up on his medical history and vaccines, so he can have good health after being without a proper doctor/check-up for so long. This would naturally include Billy's first trip to the dentist in years. Fun!

Not for Billy though. After getting cavities and root canals dealt with, he'd be informed by the dentist of his need for braces; something he wasn't too excited for. Mary laughed until she was also told she needed braces.

Now having metal in his mouth, being a part of a new family, and going to a new school, Billy has some trouble settling into his new home life. He's glad he's safe and sound now with a family who cares about him, but it's going to take some getting used to. He isn't used to being cared for.

This would also affect his transformation as Captain Marvel, as he'd think he'd lose them with the power of the living lightning, but to his surprise as the lightning strikes him--jolts of static electricity shock his teeth with a zap! And he opens his eyes as Captain Marvel, who now has braces, too... his days just get worse in his opinion, haha!

It was supposed to be a comedic one-shot idea about the agony of braces as a kid, but it spiraled into comedy with angst sprinkled into it. I also really wanted to write about Captain Marvel not smiling and the people of Fawcett and his superhero friends noticing and wanting to know why. Did something happen to their happy, bubbly friend? Is he in a rare bad mood? Why isn't he talking?? Who do they have to beat up?! But it's just because he's embarrassed at having braces in his Captain Marvel form, too. I should work more on this one.

#thank you for the ask!#It's been so long since i worked on this fic #life keeps getting in the way so i put it in storage #Billy getting braces is a neat thing to write about #Braces are a normal thing for a kid to experience but Billy doesn't think of himself as a normal kid anymore #He doesn't even see himself as a kid at all due to his responsibilities #braces really bring him back to reality #my wips #billy batson #dc captain marvel #shazam #writing

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docholligay · 2 months ago

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Bozeman Half Marathon 2024

The race starts at 8. The shuttle drops us off at 6:55.

There was a little bit of fucking around too close to start time, so we ended up in the back of the pack. As I break over the start line, it’s immediately clear to me that I am behind people who are shooting for a 2:30 or more time, which is so beautiful and hope they had the best time but all of my encouragements to newer or slower runners immediately die away in a wave of “get the fuck out of my way.” I have never bobbed and weaved as I did here, and I get afraid that I’ll lose my pacer, because I am trying so hard to just get get out of the fracas.

Mile 3. I call out, “What are we sitting at?” “9:05” comes the answer. I’ve been fucking around too much, and make a breakaway in between two runners in front of me. I’ve got to hit harder than this.

My pacer grabs his stomach and steps off to the side.

You’re a beautiful person, but this ain’t ‘nam, and I’m leaving your ass. I will buy you a drink later, salutations and good luck.

I actually start running faster at this point--i hadn’t realized how much I was holding back because I sensed he was struggling and I didn’t want to leave him in the dust. I need something to pace me. My stryd isn’t connecting, i don’t even have a timer watch, and I didn’t set my music to time me like I usually do, until the tornado siren. There are two girls in matching outfits, including pink banana shorts. They’re the ones. They look fast.

If it were not for them, I don’t know that I would have been able to get it back, because they got me into a rhythm of running about a 8:30 mile for two miles, which gave me a huge cushion. Mile 4 and 5 were entirely on their pink-festooned backs. They stopped for water mid Mile 6, and i kept going.

Mile 7: What the fuck have I done wrong in my life, and why is it being visited upon me, the sweetest and most innocent of human beings, right now? There is a long, slow, plodding hill.

There is a moment, in every race I have ever run, called, “What the fuck is my problem?” It is very important to get over the ‘What the fuck is my problem?” hump, because it is my own personal Jesus being tempted by Satan in the desert, with the idea of walking and giving up. Why would I, a sane woman with a loving family, think about running 13 miles and change full send? Did I think that would be fun? What about my life up to that point made me think it would be fun?

We have to attack this little demon inside us. We can always doubt the wisdom of our decisions later, but for now, the only way out is through, and my only reward for slowing down is that I have to be on the course longer.

I round the corner, no longer on the hill, and then from behind me, the sound of a truck, and a voice I ahven’t heard in a while:

“C’mon Doc, let’s fuckin go! It ain’t that far!” I look to my left, and it’s my buddy Jake! I haven’t seen him in a couple years, and he must have figured out it was me by sheer chance of “I bet that little red headed dyke in the unicorn shorts is Doc. She loves to run” and he is correct! He bangs twice on the side of his BLM truck, laughs, revs his engine at me, and drives on down the course.

This carries me for a solid two miles. If your family has been in Montana for as long as both of ours have, it’s hard to hide from each other. Do i want to come across as a little bitch to Jake? Do i want to tell him it was just too fucking hard? Fuck no.

The Tracer voice inside me, “What’s the worst that could ‘appen? Push it!” “We die?” “Not a problem we’d ave to deal with!”

I push. I go. I fly through the cross country kids handing out water. I’m trying to pace myself beside runners just a little ahead of me, runners that look fast and also infuriatingly casual in their matching banana shorts and pink tank tops. They hold me on for the next few miles, but as they start into their negative splits (Unfortunately, they not only look fast, they are fast) they begin to leave me behind.

I have heard the half marathon called “10 decent miles and then the worst 5k of your life” and for me, at the very least, that seems to hold true. I am getting exhausted by the time I hit mile ten, and my form is falling apart. I like like one of those inflatable noodle men, running down the street, limbs flopping. My body is swinging wildly, which is costing me energy, but I can’t stop myself. I’m getting tired mentally and physically.

In the middle of mile 11, I hit a pothole. I’m not watching what I’m doing, my foot goes directly onto the lip of the pothole and I go careening forward. I know it’s a cliche to say things happen in slow motion, but I swear it must have taken me ten seconds to fall. I had time to think about how I absolutely did not want to hurt my knee, so I, with a reasonable amount of stupidity, put my arm out straight, which keen-eyed viwers will note is a great way to break your wrist. I didn’t, so, unearned victory for me, but I slammed down hard into the asphalt, and threw myself onto my hip.

A struggled for a minute, and then, as I held up my hand to stand, someone grabs it, without breaking his stride at all, and yanks me to my feet.

“We’re fucking doing this!” he yells to me.

And then he continues on. I could have given up, and my pride and my time are badly hurt, but having that moment gives it all back to me. I might not be able to run this in time, but I can run it to the end, and not give up. Giving up isn’t what I do.

Unfortunately, to be the people we tell ourselves we are, we have to make the choices that make us those people. If I am a runner, who doesn’t give up. I need to both run, and not give up. Annoying.

So I keep on. By the time we reach the city proper, I am in mile 12 of 13, and I am well and truly suffering. It hurts so bad, and I want to stop, but I can’t stop, because I am so close, and how much would I hate myself to run all this way and give up now? I can’t walk. I have to keep going.

The tornado siren goes off in my ear. I have ten minutes to cross the finish line before losing my goal. I haven’t hit the final mile yet. This is bad. But the only way to get there faster, is to run faster. I have no idea what I drew on in that moment. But I find something deep inside me, and I yank it out and throw it on the road.

I go down the final pull, praying, waiting for the final turn, where I can see the finish line. That always gives me something more, sets off a firework inside me.

There’s a gal with a sign by the side of the road that says, “ ***ing finish so we can drink!” and, again, it is only through the encouragement of strangers that I have made it through this race at all. I point at her sign and smile, and she yells to me, “You know what I’m talking about! Fuck yeah! Go! Go!”

This last mile is one of the hardest of my life. I just keep having to chant, ‘Right, left, repeat. Right, left, repeat.”

The final turn! I can see the finish line, I only have to run three more stoplights before I make it. I can do it. I kick on the afterburner. I am so close. I’m almost there.

My heart falls when I see the timer. 1:57:40. I’ve already failed. There’s no way I can cross the finish line in 15 seconds. Or can’t I? Fuck it, whatever, I will maybe not make it, but I will run as hard as I can. My hip is screaming, my form is the worst it has ever been, and I don’t care about absolutely fucking any of that, because if I cross even one second under, I will have made PR.

I go.

I cross the finish line, wobbling, half limping, about to throw up. I’ve made my time goal by about 3 seconds. Great. That’s enough. The guy giving out the medals is nice enough to come over and put it on my neck, because I look like I’m suffering as much as I am. The text comes through.

I COMPLETELY FORGOT IT TOOK ME NEARLY A MINUTE TO CROSS THE START LINE. I have made my time by a full goddamn MINUTE. My joy is total. I would jump up and down screaming but I do not have even the slightest amount of energy for any of that. I have a can of champagne in my drop bag, and I am going to go get that, and crush it.

Someday, I’ll stop setting PR, but today is not that day.

Video evidence of my extremely bad finish: You can tell how much I'm favoring my hip, which is making me swing my body WILDLY.

#doc runs

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amethystfairy1 · 3 months ago

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Cloggin the askbox with scenarios is going to be a regular thing now

This time the lovely scenario is gonna be a 6 1/2 hour roadtrip to uh whatever is 6 1/2 hours away.just gonna shove the desert duo,treebark,flower husbands,and an extra pearl into one car because the average car can fit 7-9 people?? (I'm no car expert but hoping someone has a big car then also it's probably gonna be like a 2-3 day roadtrip at like a cute barn airbnb so they only need like two backpacks each max but of course it's only gonna be Scott and pearl that actually brings two backpacks)

No matter who's driving I feel like it's only necessary for Scott to get stuck with martyn and ren even though he could've been with Jimmy (I think pearl is keeping Jimmy with her in the front for the sake to piss off Scott) and then grian and scar would probably be in the back just secretly eating the snacks that they brought.everyone probably is taking shifts of who's driving every hour of so with the exception of grian because 1. He's short I don't think he'd see very much and 2. He coincidentally falls asleep when they're choosing who to swap shifts with?

By hour one everyone is already cranky probably because everyone had to wake up at 4am and then get ready to get to the car where martyn or Scott with the first shift would drive for the hour first.Scar probably supplied everyone (including grian and his sugary mess of a coffee) coffee and cookies for breakfast in which grian gets a sugar rush in the back seat but doesn't admit it.

By hour two everyone is counting down the hours to when they could arrive at the air bnb with Jimmy wide awake and talking with doc and etho on the phone loudly,martyn and ren somehow asleep,and a pearl trying to not get tired on her shift to drive.scott is probably in the seat behind pearl trying to bug her lightly by like complaining often or kicking pearls seat every now and then.Grian is still having his aftereffects of the sugar rush and scar is right next to the sugary rush monstrosity,regretting the coffee and cookies for grian specifically (note that grian had a venti of sugary coffee and like 5 cookies so uhhh)

By hour three it's an official pit stop at the gas station where everyone stretches their legs,wakes up,and gets snacks because you can never have too many snacks . Jimmy's probably on driving duty now with him and pearl at the front and Scott still stuck with martyn and ren in the middle where the three of them hosts a small séance and martyn joking that there might be a ghost waiting for all of them at the airbnb trying to scare them for waking the ghosts up.Pearl this time is the one chatting loudly on the phone with gem and impulse about their fantasy game stuff and grian and scar decide to take it slow for it being seven in thw morning and they both have a small nap.

Hour four is when Ren or Martyn drives and Scott is now finally with Jimmy but stuck with pearl in the middle row and they all start talking (more like arguing) about news agency and undercity related stuff.Grian and scar wake up from their nap and discuss school related things.In short everyone just talks about professional work stuff this hour (yuck)

Hour five is when the coffee gets to all of them with ren and martyn acting out a 2 person play in the very front of the car. (martyn drove the hour before now ren is driving?) Pearl,jimmy,and Scott sit all the way in the back of the car to secretly do make up on Jimmy who is sleeping and grian and scar snack on some food while talking about superhero things and some more work.

Hour six and the half is last hour in which scar drives with grian being the passenger princess next to him as a smug little bird for escaping the driving shifts.jimmy looking at his now makeup face with Scott and pearl laughing at him and martyn and ren finally is quiet and just on the phone.

When they all arrive they all are probably in their own rooms,tired and annoyed.

Oh my stars I love the little scenarios people have started coming up with using the TTSBC cast 😆 I think the conclusion here is not to let them go on a road trip!

#fanfic #ao3 fanfic #through the sky blue cracks #ttsbc #ttsbc au #from the queue

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frankendykez · 3 months ago

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What r ur oc stories about?

OMG HIHI I NEVER HAD SOMEONE OUTSIDE OF MY CURRENT FRIENDS ACTUALLY ASK BEFORE UMMMM OKAY SO. i have 3! main oc stories that i Really care about at the moment but im Deeply fixated on mainly 1 of them but im gonna start with the one ive been liek "promoting" the most in a sense!! under read more cuz im gonna try to exlain all three of them bless. sorry if i seem overly passionate oops i was TRYING to summarise im sorry its so long u rlly dont Have to read All of it

Forgotten Man's Symphony

his (louis manoir) character is basically a spin off from a character mentioned in the novel frankensetin exactly (1) time by name in elizabeth's letter and by far he is the most organised oc of mine cuz we do actually have a clean, understandable summary doc (thought it is a tad bit outdated but its okay). shes like the most Normal narrative-wise i suppose so i'm not exactly sure on how to explain the plot of forgotten man's symphony it's just like??? him ruining his life in front of the reader and then #Healing?? i guess?? the story is an epistolary that starts with louis' Suicide Letter. so like. yeah. BUT!! i suppose i would say his story very much concerns the concept of like identity (including gender and such she would be considred either transfemme/bigender by the modern world but also idfk cuz i made her complicated and confusing on purpose) and also the lack thereof + the negative impact that comes with trying so hard to fit into the societal norms and what people Want you to be but you just Can't be, cutting away bits of yourself to fit through some sort of hole representing the perfect version of you until theres nothing left of Who You Are expect a palatable and small version yk?? and the the endless pursuit of wanting to be loved that leads yourself to changing and changing for people who just wont care or love you for realsies + @rosaniruby 's words "making it even like that so its not YOU who is loving and being loved but the dim visage of a version of you that fits the picture of what society loves; that it's not a love between individuals, it's the love for a society that cannot ever love anything because it was made to hate. and who believes that portrayal of love will not find it and forever be stuck. smth like society loves what it deems as perfect and hates the imperfect, since perfect doesn't exist it can only do the second one. and louis wanted to love perfect victor, hated his own imperfect self. but the perfect victor doesnt exists, and neither does any version of louis."

i like her he's great. sorry if that was less telling u WHAT his story is and more like Explaining the "themes" as theyre called of the story but idrk how to describe nromal stuff so TAKE WHAT U CAN GET!!! anyways,

Domus Carnis: The Transmutation of Guinevere Manor

idk if you're aware but i have a hyperfix on architectural horror and i DON'T MEAN SCARY GHOSTS AND SERIAL ILLERS IN AN ABANDONED HOUSE I MEAN HAUNTED HOUSES THAT ARE ALIVE THAT IS A METAPHOR FOR PTSD FROM CHILDHOOD TRAUMA ETC ETC!! this story By making it started my whole obsession with the House it's crazy... scary even.. (i recommend you watch jacob geller's video essay about houses) i really do like domus carnis but it's. Messy to say the least. i do feel as if i ought to change the time period it's set in to avoid talking about the wars going on in the time period i accidentally set it in without realising but im procrastinating on that rn. it was Suppose to be late 1800s to early 1900s..

in a few simple words: flesh-and-bone made lesbian sex house. does that get your attention yet. bless

domus carnis (which literally means flesh house in latin or something) will be written in the POV of a 40ish year old widowed woman by the name of harriet wren's diary entries, occasionally switching to the POV of her 20-something year old godson percival who is like old timey jake paul and hes like either a journalistt or a radio host depending if i choose to change the time period or not. we follow them after harriet's husband dies of whatever and they find out he has a large property in a foreign country of which they had not known of prior

somewhere in germany there is a house of ex-aristocrats that no longer live there that is Alive. the House becomes alive because it is in a sense "possesed" (not haunted) the ghost of kathryna von guinevere who was the last one to die in the house, who, in life, was incredibly obsessed with The House for reasons that i fear are too long to explain without boring you and going into info pre-story?? anyways, when she "posseses" the house, the materials of the house shift to flesh, blood and bone because it Materially becomes her body. now, it would be hard to accurately label what represents what body part, because it's all strangely jumbled up and isn't like really human anatomy either cuz kathryna Can in fact see inside herself?? anyways whatever. now, the house is now both her body AND her mind. i have taken the phrase "haunted by memories/trauma" and turned it literal. the house IS haunted, but most of the ghosts aren't ghosts, theyre mostly all manifestation of Memory from her life because she actively is replaying the speech and actions of other people IN her mind to process the (typically traumatic) events of which she's seen or experienced. the ghosts CANNOT do as they please because they only exist at all Due to kathryna remembering them in these specific scenes. the hauntings include scenes of people, sounds, and shadows. unless the "scene" has a mirror, you cannot see kathy directly because you are witnessin things through HER eyes, which makes memories from wee childhood interesting because im wondering if i should make the "people" seem wayy bigger than the viewer if stuff is replayed from childhood..

i really like the fact that a lot of this is based on memory because it opens a lot of doors to me when it comes to the appearance of hauntings. my friend showed me this video depicting neurons forgetting how a face looks like, and i feel as if i could use that in the story because well, realistically kathy isnt going to have a Pristine memory cuz she Was just a human before, not to mention the fact shes already suppose to have issues on facial recognition/rememberance (my friend with these sisues suggetsed htis). the alteration of the ghosts' bodies could be fucked with even more if i try to make use and research into the way that people (mostly children) can in fact like.... change the image of something traumatic in their brain and make it less scary bc the brain is trying to protect them? yeah. AND ALSO the fact that a lot of people forgets certain aspects of their trauma due to their brain trying to protect them as well but still have this feeling of Unease when it comes o specific things that they cant explain, i could incorporate this feeling in certain areas of the House, the strange uneasiness. i experience that myself so i hope ill portray it right!!

i Think that's it?? at least that should be the bare bones of the story... i have a pin board tho if u want to check it out!!

The Epinicium

THIS is the stupid fucking thnag thats ruining my entire life rn. i love it i hate it whagever man. THIS ONE ill keep short and simple because im too fucking mentally ill about it to explain in depth without being asked questions

so basically its fantasy world but not like. Completely new high fantasy i very loosely based the countries off of like real countries and stuff bc lazy as shite so its like mid fantasy maybe HOWEVER

basically its set in this world where theres a shit ton of religions and gods and shit and theres three categories of religions (the world is veyr uhnm. Categorical idk): earth, science and the arts. basically the arts religions are the majority and the gods of those religions are called the muses so thats what i'll be calling them from now on. the basic plot of epinicium is about the muses of the music religion declaring that humanity doesnt treat music as "holy enough" anymore and taking it away as a whole (songbirds go extinct as well which is importnat) which also fucks up the other arts religionsdue to the fact that artforms are very connected but they still exist yk and centuries later our main cast attempts to bring it back!!! we have this server with a channel that has the "summary" but its not a real summary its just an already outdated infodump but we are Trying to fill this doc but we're failing really hard but friendship is magic idk.

fin.

anyways thats. pretty much it i think im sorry its too long once again 😭😭 feel free to ask question esp on the epinicium!! id love to hear abt ur ocs btw ive yapped so much oops

#ask #story: domus carnis #story: fms #story: epinicium

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cattimeswithjellie · 5 months ago

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Stream Recap, PearlescentMoon, 07/08/24

((A nice, calm, chatty stream for three and a half hours where Pearl restocks her flower shop and adds a cute little cafe area, followed by a completely buckwild final half-hour in which Pearl meets Impulse and Skizzleman at Magic Mountain for acts of violence against one another and the server's PG boundaries.))

3:45 Pearl opens the stream in audio mode and greets Chat. Chat wants to know the plan for the day, but they know how Pearl’s plans to go. The plan is “Flower shop stuff!” No redstone today, all the failsafes are in and only hard mode audio is needed for Dyeductions. She will show Chat the redstone she and Xisuma worked on, but it’s functional and doesn’t need tweaked today. It all works! It is time to set a new Dyeductions word, though she doesn’t know if anybody has played the word for the week who wasn’t guinea pigging for her.

6:00 Chat wants to talk about the Doc Llama thing. Pearl said that whole thing was pretty off-the-cuff and as far as she’s concerned, that was totally his fault. She doesn’t deserve to be sued, she only helped Doc! Chat mentions Doc was mostly mad at himself, Pearl laughs and agrees that she had to cut out some of the words Doc used just after his ground-touch, but Doc thinks he has a way out of the consequences and he is okay now. She is also aware that he was trying to play on her sympathies after his death but gave him the moss block anyway. Chat generally thinks the llama thing was very, very funny.

8:00 A chatter says they hope to see Pearl at PAX, Pearl hopes to be at PAX! Another chatter points out that Cleo left Doc a pig to ride on but he immediately killed it. Pearl says that sounds like a very Doc thing to do. Chat wants to go see more Skydoc. Pearl likes the idea, but doesn’t want to be the one poking Doc all the time. She thanks subs and donos, then brings the stream to game view. Pearl is in her storage room. A chatter mentions how much they love the new portal. Pearl says that it’s possible, based on initial reactions, that the portal might stay. Pearl wonders if she can sue herself for the emotional damages. If it does stay, she’s definitely going to improve it so it at least isn’t so monocolored and terraformless. Chat likes the portal a lot.

12:00 Pearl flies towards the flower shop and pauses in Xisuma and Cub’s big new build. She’s still not sure what they are building, but it’s probably the new spawn area for when spawn chunks relocate after the update. It looks pretty thoroughly planned out, though at the moment it is all blank stone blocks. Pearl moves on and finds a single lonely floating tree outside Ren’s perimeter. She hates this tree and lands specifically to remove it. Hopefully nobody actually wants it. She’s interrupted by Nugget shenanigans, but Karn can deal with those. Pearl tells Chat that she has lost her silk touch pickaxe. She tells a story that involves a lot of burning zombies in her shop and an embarrassing death due to the way copper grates get waterlogged instead of spilling water onto burning Pearls, followed by her not finding her pick afterwards until after the time it would have despawned. It’s a roundabout story for “I died and lost my pickaxe,” but it works.

16:10 A chatter mentions that it’s funny that Scar also has an episode called “Malicious Compliance” about a portal. ((Scar’s malicious compliance involved building a nether portal designed to murder people.)) Pearl did not realize that and now feels slightly awkward about the coincidence. She shows Chat her portal. Chat loves the portal. Pearl put minimal effort into every part of it, including the terraforming. She double-checks the portal to make sure it works, it does although she comes out a different mouth. If she keeps this portal, she’s going to need to put a little landing zone in for anyone without an elytra. If she keeps it, which is a big IF. She doesn’t want to, but if the Hermits like it, she will. The Shopping District overall is a chaotic mess filled with indivudually awesome builds, and she is not helping that overall effect here.

19:30 Pearl tells Chat that she got a message from Cub on Discord that she is not being sued anymore because a portal has been built. So that’s something. Chat wants to countersue for the emotional damages of having to build that portal. She mentions that Impulse and Cub both assumed someone not Pearl was building the portal because it’s such an un-Pearl build. Pearl would not mind if other Hermits also wanted to add ridiculous portal bits to the ridiculous portal. Karn brings Nugget to Pearl, but Nugget only wishes to be with Karn. Chat tells Pearl that Hermits love creative ugliness. Pearl buys some books from Cleo’s shop to replace the lost pick. She does collect her coffee beverages, thinking that maybe she can put a little cafe area in the back of the flower shop. She also might be able to buy rockets for her sprinkler system from Cub now that he’s not suing her anymore. She talks about the exploding of Magic Mountain, which was great, but probably will not be in her next episode but rather the one after that.

26:00 Pearl tries to enchant her pick but she doesn’t have enough levels to do it. Bop N Go is probably empty too, so she goes hunting for some XP to harvest. She empties her furnace array, but it mostly fixes her elytra. She has not seen reactions from Etho on her roof prank or from Gem on her voice recording prank. Chat warns her that Etho plans on keeping the purpur roof. Pearl says that is Etho doesn’t put up his own roof, she’ll be back in a couple weeks to replace it with something even less desirable. She explains the principle of harvesting XP from a furnace to curious chatters. Eventually she accumulates enough levels to finish her enchanting and decides to name the new Silk Touch pick Smooth Criminal and the Fortune pick will be named when she has more levels.

36:30 Pearl heads back to the flower shop but is distracted by a strange noise from the Armor Trim shop. Someone has replaced the Ghast head in the alarm system with a goat head, making a godawful goatly racket. She heads to the shop and admires Flower Llama, remarking how surprised she is that it survived a creeper to the face so well. Two Hermits have played Dyeductions since the beginning of the week, but they did not records their scores. Pearl admits to doing some offscreen redstone, just so as not to make every stream a redstone stream. She shows Chat the system she put together with Xisuma’s help: a failsafe to allow for double letter use with no risk of softlocking. She checks the system to make everything is in good working order and that the prize bundles are adequate. Two Os and As are missing from the chest. She finds them in the droppers due to someone’s derpy game behavior, but at least it’s not broken! She will be adding the last four letters to the system soon, but rejects Chat’s suggestion to somehow reject non-word submissions. That would be more redstone than could be fit in the entire world.

51:00 Pearl checks on her rocket sprinklers. She shows off the redstone for it, which needs some refinement, but eating food, gliding with elytra and interacting with a mob will set off sprinklers. Today she’s going to add more decorations to the shop and also build the path up to the shop. As she heads back to her base for supplies, she explains how calibrated skulk sensors work. Pearl wants to use more calibrated skulk sensors now that she knows how to use them. She also mentions how she threw together a concrete converter and was happy because she knows how to make one of those without having to look stuff up or anything. Knowing redstone is neat! She shows Chat the concrete converter, located in her base next to the Mudificator, and talks with Chat about possible refinements.

58:00 Pearl is not sure whether Doc got the wither roses she gave him and that got blown up with him. Chat assures her that he does have them, so she doens’t need to drop by the Skyblock Prison. She gathers up the flowers and bonemeal she will need. Chat thinks it would be funny to set up a mailbox in the sky for Doc, but unfortunately the time it takes to set up a mailbox makes it prohibitive. Nobody’s using the mail that much right now anyway. She flies back to the flower shop, taking a moment to compliment False’s river terraforming and its lovely curves. Chat wants to give Doc more golden carrots. Pearl thinks Doc is just fine where he is.

1:04:00 Pearl restocks her flowers and seeds. The builds for her most recent video was finished less than 24 hours before it aired. Making the redstone failsafe put her way behind and it didn’t even make it into the video! Next video will have Dyeductions stuff in it. Chat is eager for the Dyeduction patch update. Pearl confides that she’d originally wanted to take Keralis on the Hermit tour, but he signed off before she was finished and so she went to find Doc. She also admits that she’s still using Tango’s nether portal after all these months. Maybe that can be her next episode. She considers that for five seconds, then remembers her previous two episodes have both been “Pearl Builds A Portal” episodes. What she really needs is a new storage room. Her storage room is terrible. Maybe she will build a new building onto the base and make it storage. Chat thinks a redstone storage system might be fun. Chat also thinks a Decked Out episode would be fun. Pearl laughs and says that’s not very likely, but maybe redstone storage.

1:12:00 Pearl collects up more pitcher pod seeds to restock her shop. Someone, she thinks Etho, has purchased all her pod seeds already. As she returns to the shop, she talks about possibly adding a single villager to her base just to have some emeralds for wandering traders. She makes a beautiful gliding landing into her shop and tells Chat they should appreciate that because adding the truck has made gliding entrances much more difficult. A chatter asks if this is modded Minecraft. Pearl hmms but says that most of what people think is modded on Hermitcraft is actually just a resource pack. Chat critiques Pearl’s click and drag techniques for arranging seeds in a chest. They are scandalized that Pearl does not use left-click-drag. Pearl tells Chat she will do it from now on.

1:17:30 Pearl feels like making just a quick little farm for pitcher plants. She is so tempted, but she thinks it will not be as simple as the concrete maker and she doesn’t want to do redstone all stream. She sorrowfully grows her pitcher plants manually. A chatter asks about the lily pad shop, Pearl has not planned it yet but she will. They are not urgent because nobody ever buys lilypads or ferns. She wants to make little shops next to her greenhouse, maybe even a little shop on the dock for lilypads. There is a conversation about whether villagers can harvest pitcher plants, chat is certain they cannot. Pearl has ideas about how to do pitcher plant farming, but she needs to figure out how to detect their final growth form. She needs to do some Science! Chat offers her a tutorial, but she wants to do it without tutorials this season.

1:25:30 Pearl gathers materials and prepares for science. She goes back to the pitcher plants and has an involved conversation with Chat about how to count and account for the growth of pitcher plants in a farm. She does some science and is annoyed to realize that a piston will destroy a plant before it is fully grown and curses the name of Mojang for their cruelty. She wishes happy birthday to a chatter and interrogates them on birthday plans and presents. She does more science to see if the plants will grow more than one tick at a time. This is the sort of science that takes awhile. Pearl and Chat talk about the weather. Pearl tries Googling it, but the wiki does not cover that issue. Pearl thinks that if multi-growth ticks are rare enough, she can make a farm anyway. Theoretically a rare jam condition just means that your farm will never overflow. Some chatters are curious about pitcher plants, Pearl shows off the sniffers in their chamber and explains the way sniffers dig up seeds in 1.20.

1:43:00 Pearl cannot resist the siren call of doing a little redstone. Karn raids into the stream. His chat is full of puns today. Pearl explains her idea for an observer-based farm to Chat, then talks with Karn about his stream. Karn sings to her to try and copyright strike her. ((He is unsuccessful.)) Karn has been playing Cult of the Lamb, he says it went “wool.” Pearl suggests it went terribwool. They fight for the affection of the Chat for their terrible puns. Chat is on Pearl’s side, but they are biased. Pearl and Karn are cute on stream for a few moments, then he heads out.

1:55:00 Pearl finishes pitcher plant farming and restocks her shop. She talks to Chat about farming some more, but she is _definitely_ not doing redstone today. She notes that her bundles are running a little low, but she hasn’t had to restock before. She does not realize until Chat tells her that False has her concrete shop open. She immediately goes to visit and critique’s False’s prices. People should have to pay more for concrete than powder! Chat says False has a super-fast converter so there is not much difference in effort to provide concrete. Pearl also spots the blaze rod shop for the first time and complains that she had to go farm blazes in the nether just the other day. There are a lot of shops she doesn’t know about! She investigates Ren’s skulk shop, then has to go see whether Tango or Ren is selling skulk sensors. Skulk sensors are an edge case, but it looks like they are Tango’s to sell.

2:02:00 A chatter makes a joke about suing over the use of “coming soon!” on a sign. Pearl tells Chat that while she likes all the content that lawsuits have made on the server thus far, she does worry that the culture is becoming overly litigious, mostly Chat. A little suing is fun, but it’s easy to go too far. Chat just really liked the court case. Pearl agrees the court case was great, but cases need to be spread apart a bit. She looks at the diorite shop Ren built, then goes and admires Tango’s Fun Gus shop. The shroomlights are expensive, but she hates farming them so she understands. She visits Keralis’s maze and tries it out to get the Boosh Maze trophy. Her strategy is “Always go left.” She finds her way there quickly and gets rewarded by fireworks!

2:08:00 Pearl visits Mumbo’s gold shop and is pleased to see that he’s restocked. She wonders if “improved price” means he has upped the price since last time. She examines his redstone with freecam. Mumbo is still out of item frames. Pearl is desperate to know why he won’t just make a leather farm. She looks at some of the remaining popup shops in the SD and wonders why they haven’t been removed yet, then remembers there is a countdown going. The countdown sand timer, though, does not appear to have gone down at all! She flies over to POE HQ to investigate and finds a trapdoor marked with “Ultra-Redstoners Only!” Deciding she is clearly worthy of the title of Ultra-Redstoners, she descends into the chamber below the sandclock. For all her burgeoning talent, Pearl is clearly not ultra-redstoner enough to understand the intricacies of Scar’s redstone and comes away believing that it does nothing except make a whole lot of noise.

2:13:30 Pearl looks through POE HQ but its interior is still not finished. She heads back to the flower shop and continues critiquing Scar’s immaculate redstone. She tells Chat she’s not going to go up to the Skyblock today in case Doc has been building up there. She doesn’t want to accidentally spoiler any of that. Chat asks her about future farms, she’s got nothing urgent on tap but does want to do that pitcher plant farm. She begins sketching out ideas for the cafe area of the flower shop. She wants hanging plants, but not like the traditional kind. She brainstorms with Chat. Chat suggests getting the table look she wants with armor stands, but Pearl doesn’t want to do too much with armor stands because she likes the vanilla look whenever possible. Maybe armor stands for the hanging plants. As it gets dark, she notes that she needs more lights in the shop.

2:20:30 Pearl tries composters with trapdoors on top for tables, they are not quite what she wants. Chat suggests extended pistons for tables. Pearl tries unextended sticky pistons instead. She likes it okay, but adds some regular pistons so the green is not so GREEN. Chat wants her to extend the pistons, she says she will but wanted the placement right. She goes outside and breaks down a whole stack of redstone ore. She talks with Chat about the difference between local cozy nursery shops and big industrial greenhouses. She wants the cozy vibe. She uses redstone blocks to underlay the piston tables and extend them out of the floor. Chat suggests using torches and saving a lot of redstone, but Pearl likes the blocks. She knows it’s weird, but it’s like using obsidian in the portal corners, she just likes it. And she has plenty of redstone blocks now!

2:31:20 Pearl asks Chat about the redstone difference between honey blocks and slime blocks, Chat explains it to her. Honey cannot be powered, and while both blocks stick to other blocks, they do not stick to each other. This is valuable information for Pearl. She flies home for more supplies. She has to use her new SD portal and considers suing herself. That’s actually a court case she could get behind, her as both sides of the argument, walking from one table to the other as she made her arguments. She wants to do different and unexpected entertainment this season. Hence the Doc hermit tour! She insists that despite what she just said, she did not intend to kill Doc with that creeper.

2:36:00 Pearl spends some time trying to figure out whether a Pina Colada floats. She decides it does not, and thus is suitable for the shop. She gathers plenty of plant matter, including pickles, and notes that she is running low on pickles. She has a hard time finding glow lichen, she needs more. Chat suggests vines, but she does not like how much they spread. She looks for dripleaf and wonders who has the permit. She would love that permit. Chat thinks Beef has Dripleaf, so Pearl will have to bother him about that. She goes on the hunt for dripleaf but cannot go to Gem because of Spoilers. Chat suggests Bdubs or Keralis. Pearl goes back to Keralis’ place and admires his weird diagonal tree. She nabs and replaces a bit of dripleaf and heads home with her prize. She bonemeals a very, very tall dripleaf and knocks it down.

2:44:00 A chatter talks about Hurricane Beryl, Pearl wishes them safety riding out the storm. A chatter asks if she could prank Skizz by adding a nail salon to his law office. Pearl doesn’t get the joke, apparently it is a Better Call Saul reference. Pearl’s decoration efforts are made more difficult by how easy it is to mine up beehives with axes, and also that moss just goes where it wants. Still she persists and decorates her cafe area. A chatter asks if Pearl deserves to be sent to the sky with Doc. Pearl doesn’t understand why she would deserve to be skyblocked. Chat mostly just wants Pearl Skyblock. Pearl very much does not want Pearl Skyblock, but she admires Doc’s fortitude in enduring it. Also if anybody’s going to get sued for not doing server stuff, it should be for not building the Nether Hub.

2:53:00 Pearl runs around underneath her shop and collects all the blocks she spilled while decorating, eventually ending up in the noodles of Dyeduction. A chatter says they feel sorry for Doc because he is just trying to do his thing and keeps being bothered. Pearl is amused by this and says don’t feel sorry for Doc, if he really wanted to be left alone to do his thing, he would have said something. He’s getting so much content! People need to remember that the Hermits are content creators, and if they wanted to be left alone, they wouldn’t be on a big SMP. Doc is having fun and he is a good sport, and he is very able to say something if he is truly bothered by something. She also points out that the Skyblock Prison is close to everyone for a reason, rather than being out by his base or the world border.

2:56:00 Pearl talks more with Chat about potential court cases. The snails v Scar and the Ore Snatcher case are good cases, a lawsuit over a portal, not so much. Chat is concerned that the snails have gone missing, but Pearl doesn’t know anything about that. She also does not know when or if there’s another Life Series. Someone asks if she saw another failsafe model that was posted on the Reddit, she did see it but she doesn’t think it’s better than the one she’s using. She explains why. She does appreciate that people want to help and who are excited about her redstone projects.

3:01:00 A chatter asks Pearl what her favorite series of the Life Series is, adding *wink wink.* Pearl takes that as a cue for silly answers and says Hermitcraft is her favorite, but eventually wraps around to saying that Double Life is her favorite and probably will be for a long time. She gives a chatter tips on making reskinned items for a custom resource pack. She examines the cafe area and likes what she sees, but tweaks the dripleaf chairs into campfire chairs. She talks with Chat about the difference between modded Minecraft (adding blocks) and resource packs (adding textures.) All these fancy hats and trophies look modded, but they’re just pumpkins. She heads home for campfires and thanks subs and donos. A chatter is getting foster kittens, Pearl is excited for them but she could not do it herself because she would get instantly attached and be a foster fail with many, many cats. A chatter suggests making an eldritch pickle monster near Gem’s base; Pearl assures Chat that she is not done with pickle pranks yet (and also that she has told Gem that Gem gets to decide when she is too tired of pickle shenanigans.) She flies back to the shop.

3:10:00 A chatter asks what Pearl’s favorite season of Hermitcraft is. Pearl has been on three seasons so far, a short one, a regular one, and a regular one where everyone is scrunched together, and they are all so different that she couldn’t possibly pick one as a favorite. She likes making her seasons extremely distinct from one another. In chat, Tango sees the new portal and yells “PICKLE PORTAL POWER!” Chat loves that. Pearl makes the new chairs and likes them very much. She needs to figure out lighting and realizes that if she wants froglights under the table, she needs to switch to redstone torches. She does so, with reluctance. It still doesn’t look very bright. She doesn’t think the light actually comes through the pistons.

3:16:00 Pearl thanks more subs and donos, including some missed very old ones. Chat asks if Pearl has tortured Doc today, but Doc is not online. Impulse is online, but he has already done this week’s Wordle, so he cannot be pestered right now. Pearl goes back to the lighting issue. She throws some froglights under moss and calls it good. It looks very nice and Chat is happy. Pearl points out one little secret area in the copper grating where the redstone for Dyeductions can be seen. Everywhere else, it is hidden by leaves. She and Chat brainstorm more decorations and Pearl heads home for more stuff. She mentions that she fully designed most of the flower shop interior beforehand because it takes so long going home and getting new supplies for this sort of freehanding.

3:25:00 Pearl buzzes Impulse over Magic Mountain. They land on the edge of the excavation and Pearl asks how his hole is doing. He says that’s an awkward question but he’s getting things cleaned up. She punches him and says he is terrible. He points out that anything they say these days is liable to be made into a horn. She says that what she said was fine, he’s the one who made it weird! “PG Hermit, my butt,” she mutters. She asks Impulse what the plan is from this point, but Impulse feels like he has done enough of the heavy lifting with his magnificent TNT drop machine and it’s time for the other Magic Mountaineers to step up. They both agree that Grian seemed pretty eager to have a crack at the mountain with his own TNT. Impulse is going to smooth out floating blocks and stuff, a little cleaning up. Pearl is a little sorry to lose all the cool dripstone caves, but there will be some still on the edges of the mountain. Pearl and Impulse’s chats say hello to each other. Pearl and Impulse talk about microphone sound levels, and Pearl tells Impulse that if the silly portal stays, she expects other Hermits to add onto it. Not Veggietales necessarily, but very silly. Impulse suggests the build is reminiscent of the whole Toon Towers vibe from Tango’s S7 build and Pearl agrees. ((The recapper agrees too!)) Pearl whines a little about having her malicious compliance portal be something that people want to keep, and Impulse points out that the gaming district portal is beautiful, so it’s not as though Pearl has anything to prove. Unfortunately, she points out, the SD portal is the one she has to see every day.

3:30:00 Impulse reminds Pearl that if the portal stays, she also needs to build the Boogervator to carry people from the bottom face of the portal to the actual portal level. Impulse suggested the Boogervator and he is still highly enamored of both name and concept. A few flaming arrows rain down from overhead and they idly chat about how Skizz isn’t quite at HotGuy levels of aim yet. But he’s trying! Impulse says he’s about to open the bottom of the hole to the void. Pearl wonders if he’s going to open the entire bottom of the massive hole, but he’s not that ambitious yet. A small void hole will do. Skizz shoots past at full speed, yelling “You guys suck!” during the moment he’s in range, then he’s gone again. Pearl protests that she’s standing still to get shot and everything, but finally Skizz gives up and lands.

3:32:00 Skizz tells the story of how he did not shoot Impulse and Pearl, which mainly boils down to bad angles and skill issues. Pearl and Impulse both loudly warn him that they are streaming, after his F word faux pas on Pearl’s stream the other day. He yells at them to shut up and flies away. “See you later *beep*face!” Impulse calls cheerfully, using his censor button to cover any potential swears. Chat is highly amused. Pearl says he’s not going to live that one down anytime soon. Impulse agrees and is surprised that the clip hasn’t spread further, but his thought is interrupted by Pearl’s death to Skizz’s FailGuy bow. Pearl laughs and admits she saw that coming as she respawns in her base.

3:34:00 Pearl equips some spare gear and heads back to Magic Mountain, still giggling. Impulse has been using dispensers to store Pearl’s dropped gear, and scolds her for not using the bed he placed down. He knows Skizz well enough to realize that Skizz was simply not going to stop until he managed to shoot somebody. He returns her pickaxe and comments on her fancy netherite tools; she can’t believe he’s still using diamonds at this stage of the game and tells him to get mining. Impulse does not like mining for netherite! Pearl points out that it’s kind of soothing to mine in a straight line like that, but Impulse points out that the Nether is pretty mined out at this point in the season. On top of the mountain, Skizz has found a Pillager patrol. Impulse reminds him not to start a raid, Pearl thinks a raid in this enormous dug-out hole would be kind of neat. The patrol enters the chasm area and Skizz begins swooping down to shoot at them, hitting Impulse in the process. Between the three of them, they put down the party quickly and Pearl finishes collecting her things. She polishes off the bannerman with a campfire.

3:38:00 Skizz makes a comment about the bannerman doing a Jojo dance on the campfire, Pearl is confused because her go-to Jojo is Solos, not Siwa. Impulse and Skizz bicker over which one of them is the fan of Dance Moms while Pearl attempts to punch Skizz to death with an unlit flint and steel. He eventually yelps and flies away. Impulse implores Pearl to set her spawn, even as Skizz flies back claiming that he could’ve shot her if he’d wanted to. They both mock him roundly for that, but he is quickly distracted because there is coal ore. Pearl asks Skizz what he wants to do with coal ore and he is not quite sure, but has something in mind with the what that coal ore looks when vines grow over it and it could be a cool look for something. He is not nearly as interested in iron ore, even though there is quite a lot of it exposed in the hole.

3:40:30 Skizz tells Impulse he can’t get over the TNT machine he made, and he’s disappointed Impulse took it down. He should’ve just moved it over a little bit and done it again. Pearl punches Skizz off the edge and into the hole, but he is wearing an elytra and catches himself during the long, long fall. Chat is still happy. Impulse agrees that the TNT machine was amazing, that’s why he did it, but it was in no way efficient given how much TNT it cost. Skizz laughs and backs up the conversation, saying that the casual flex of “It was amazing, that’s why I did it” is definitely Impulse’s next t-shirt design. Impulse writes that down. He says he’s already plugged his merch for the day, then takes a moment to plug the Imp and Skizz merch to Pearl’s stream as well. Skizz takes a moment to flash back to his accidental swearing incident. Pearl realizes she’s pulling a lot of big emotions from Hermits this season, terrifying the unflappable Doc, embarrassing usually-shameless Skizzleman. What will she do next? Skizz says, laughing, that being embarrassed makes him feel human and he doesn’t like it. Impulse and Pearl mock him for that, asking what level he thinks he’s on. Skizz says he can’t be down with these guys!

3:44:00 Impulse is surprised to see Skizz online at this hour, a time when he’d normally be working. Skizz says he started work early today and wrapped a bunch of stuff up, now he’s trying to decide what to do for his stream. Impulse tells his chat to decide what Skizz should do today. Pearl asks Chat as well. Chat wants “Chaos,” “Shenanigans,” “Pranks,” “Pickles,” “A Silly Dance,” and a lot of votes for Dyeduction. Skizz is thinking about Mission Possible. Impulse suggests combining Pearl’s chat’s suggestion with his chat’s suggestion and make Skizz do Dyeduction… as a musical. Chat likes that plan a lot. Skizz is less thrilled and tries to clarify if he has to sing what he’s guessing. Impulse demonstrates by singing “I’m going to guess the word “HORSE,”” and gets chided by Skizz for holding the first part of the last word way too long before putting the S on there. Doesn’t he know that Pearl is streaming? Impulse calls him *beep*face again and says Skizz should’ve seen how Pearl rolled in, asking all kinds of weird personal questions. The first thing she asked him was “how’s your hole”! Pearl insists she meant this one, the stone one they are all standing next to, while Skizz sighs and predicts they are going to get him in a lot of trouble if he sticks around. Chat is having an _excellent_ time. Impulse and Skizz make several more awkward hole-related jokes while Pearl is torn between giggles and grimaces. Impulse says that his chat is used to this sort of antics by now, that Gem corrupted them with the whole Mac and Cheese thing and it was all downhill from there. ((Back at the start of the season, there was a fad for standing around in groups and slapping a salmon head on a noteblock to listen to the squelching sound it made. Gem made a comment offstream about the salmon head sounding like mac and cheese, referencing a viral Vine about how stirring macaroni and cheese makes a noise like a very Not Safe For Work thing. Impulse thought it was just a comment about the funny way mac and cheese sounds and brought it up with her on stream a few days later, much to her chagrin given her very Safe For Work streaming image. She made Impulse watch the Vine onstream (on his phone with stream muted) and he was deeply traumatized.))

3:47:30 What Skizz really wants to do is play Phasmo sometime with Pearl. They’ve done it once for a charity stream, but he wants to again. Chat is so into it. Skizz tries to go sleep through the night, but Impulse sets him on fire and he can’t sleep while on fire. Impulse complains about how long it takes Skizz to sleep. Skizz tries to shoot Impulse with a crossbow from a couple blocks away but misses by a mile and takes off to find more rockets. Impulse and Pearl chat about the TNT drop filming. Impulse says watching Mumbo evaporate midair was so great in the replay mod, and he had to resist doing a Matrix-style slow-motion circle pan around him as he disintegrated. Skizz caught it on replay mod too and was struck by how Mumbo said “I’ll give it a go” and died _instantly._ The three of them all agree that until that point, they hadn’t realized midair collisions were a possibility at all. TNT minecarts are rather different than falling TNT blocks! Their dives through the downpour were reckless, but very fun.

3:51:50 Impulse spots a pink sheep, but they suspect it was probably dyed by Joel to match his city. Skizz finds some coal ore and gets busy with that. Impulse says he’d better get to work, his stream title promises he’s going to blow holes in bedrock. Pearl admits she’s titled at least three streams with “terraforming the flower shop” and it still has not happened. Impulse tells her she’s just addicted to redstone, and he’s happy for her. There’s always something new to learn in Minecraft and it keeps the game fresh. Skizz agrees, saying he’s the world’s worst builder, but he’s having a mini-arc of improvements. He built himself an office but now he needs to do an interior and he doesn’t even know where to start.

3:54:00 Pearl asks Skizz when he’s doing Musical Dyeduction. Impulse echoes that, asking what time Skizz is going to be streaming. Skizz waffles a bit, hoping he can get out of it because he’s already done the word for the week, but Pearl assures him that because it is Monday, she’s resetting the word. Skizz protests he’s not a singer, Pearl says he can go on a singing improvement and building improvement arc at once. He asks it he has to do it on hard mode, she says that’s optional. He asks if it’s going to be a word nobody knows anymore (ie Ergot from testing) or a real word that people know. She says it’s going to be a real and medium-easy word, but they should consider expanding their vocabularies. Skizz says he and Impulse are going to start their own Wordle and it’s going to be all 12-letter made up words. The first word will be “Shickshack,” and that will be fine because more people use it than use “ergot.” ((Shickshack is from an old Phasmo stream where the crew successfully used it to get Scar tongue-tied enough to say “Shit rack” on stream.)) Schnoogins and Nooch are other strong contenders. Impulse is afraid to play it without Pearl there, and Skizz doesn’t want to play it on stream. Maybe playing and singing on stream will be enough to kill his nerves permanently. They talk about Sweeney Todd, the musical Impulse watched recently, until it is time for Skizz to sleep the night away. Impulse shoots at him and hits the bed, catching it on fire. This does not preclude sleeping in it but does make Skizz look like the before image in a commercial for jock itch cream.

3:59:00 Impulse gleefully tells Skizz it looks like a part of his body is on fire, he’s not going to say which but he should maybe see a doctor. Skizz tells him he was having a good dream. Impulse, Pearl and Chat all yell about that, and Impulse says he’s gotta go. Pearl tells Skizz he deserves the musical. Skizz logs off in pretend shame. Pearl tells Impulse that she’s going to log off and send her Chat to him. Impulse promises to behave for the rest of his stream. Nobody believes him.

4:00:00 Pearl heads back to the shop and admits she’s done almost nothing in four hours of stream. She restocked her shop and made tables. She hopes Chat enjoyed it anyway. She reminds everyone that she has a pretty new episode up that they should watch, thanks subs and donos, raids into Impulse and ends her stream.

#hermitcraft #stream recap #pearlescentmoon #impulsesv #skizzleman #you know it's a fun recap because i had to track down clips both for the mac and cheese thing #and for the time scar said shit rack on-stream

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karkkidoeswriting · 1 month ago

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OC Deep Dive Tag

Thank you for tagging me @writingamongther0ses ! (like several months ago sorry) I'll tag @oh-no-another-idea @author-a-holmes @talesofsorrowandofruin @kainablue, but as always absolutely no pressure!!

I'm doing this for Valeri from BCC.

Phobias and Other Fears: Valeri has a intense fear of fire, but specifically something catching flame. When there's already burning confined fire at no risk of spreading, like fire place or an oil lamp, it's no issue, but he cannot light up even just a candle himself because sudden catching of flame is terrifying to him. Might have something to do with him almost burning alive.

Pet Peeves: People not understanding how to handle horses or dogs. For example when someone birches a horse for refusing to move because it's afraid of something instead of easing it's fear or someone gets mad at a dog for biting them after they try to take it's food. Also (rich) people who think of themselves very rational and above superstition and magical thinking.

3 Items You Can Find in Their Bedroom:

1. A pistol and a short sword (I'm grouping these), because he's the type of person who sleeps better when holding a hilt of a weapon. 2. Poppy tea for his back pain. 3. His childhood clothing hidden under a floor board.

First Thing They Notice in a Person: Probably their physique or the general way they hold themselves.

On a Scale of 1-10, How High is Their Pain Tolerance?: 10. He has chronic pain so high pain tolerance is kinda a given.

Do They Go Into Fight or Flight Mode When Under Pressure?: Fight. He is a cavalry man so fighting under pressure is pretty much his job, but he's also just generally a very hot-headed violence-is-the-answer kind of person.

Do They Come From a Big Family/are They a Family Person?: He comes from a big family, which included extended family too. He had four siblings and his grandma, one uncle, couple of cousins and second cousins lived with them too. Other extended family also spend much time in their castle. The clan as a whole was very much family. He is very much a family person. He has only his younger sibling left, but he is his whole world. There's couple of other family members still alive but he either doesn't know or they are in exile or as hostage. His only real dream for future is to get married and have several children. He likes kids a lot. But currently he's too deep in survival mode to try to actually live a life and also he is too socially anxious anyway to like try to have romantic relationships.

What Animal Represents Them Best?: Obviously a dog. He is even called a dog several times in the story and he's not even mad because he thinks dogs are better than people. He is a loyal pack animal, a feral attack dog, overprotective watch dog and obedient good boy who wants to have a master to please and tell him what to do. He is also very petable and craves physical affection (the man is touch starved), but also he might bite (metaphorically, maybe?) if he's touched in a wrong way, so like most times. I have an internal running joke that he would absolutely be a furry if he knew the concept (but like he would keep it as a shameful secret, the repression is strong). His fursona is Karelian Bear Dog.

What is a Smell That They Dislike?: Smell of burning hair triggers instant trauma reaction. But when it comes to more dislike and less PTSD, he hates the smell of fish, because he worked as a child in the docs and had to smell fish from morning to evening (I didn't say no PTSD), and general smoky and stuffy city air.

Have They Broken Any Bones?: Plenty, but surprisingly not super badly broken bones. His ribs have been broken several times, his arm has been broken, and most embarrassingly he broke his hand by hitting a wall in anger.

How Would a Stranger Likely Describe Them?: A tall imposing man with permanent scowl.

Are They a Night Owl or Morning Bird?: Morning bird. Not because he's super good with mornings but because he's slow to wake up and very grumpy couple of hours after he wakes regardless of when he wakes up, so he rather wakes early to have time before other people wake. He takes his dogs for an hour walk every morning when the sun is rising.

What is a Flavor They Hate and a Flavor They Love?: Hates fish, loves tea and sweet almond cake of the temples.

Do They Have Any Hobbies?: Plays piano and violin.

Boom, Surprise Birthday Party! How Do They React to Surprises?: With panic and anxiety. Might accidentally punch someone as a panicked reaction. He's not at all fan of surprises and he would be pretty pissed afterwards. He likes to know how things go before hand. Sudden jump-scare surprises are his own personal horror movie.

Do They Like to Wear Jewelry?: Generally speaking he doesn't like to wear jewelry, it's usually an uncomfortable sensory experience, so he usually wears just a very simple band as a fillet, and no earrings or rings. One exception is that he wears his mother's ring in his neck hidden under clothes at all times, their family heirloom he took from his mother's dead finger before escaping enemy soldiers.

Do They Have Neat or Messy Handwriting?: Pretty neat. He's a slow writer because he's very precise about it.

What Are the Two Emotions They Feel the Most?: Anxiety and rage.

Do They Have a Favourite Fabric?: Linen. Temperature changes worsens his chronic pain and hot is usually the issue so light linen is the most comfortable fabric for him. Also he sweats easily and linen helps with that too. He also really likes the sensory experience of soft linen that has texture but is still very soft and comfortable.

What Kind of Accent Do They Have? His accent is not very strong, but his distinct working class Amarian accent he picked up growing up comes through. He code switches when talking to his superiors, and the accent is much more subdued then. There's also a hint of Cerfi accent still left in his round Rs.

#i have the best romantic comedy modern au idea where valeri is a closeted furry and agrippa is a freelance artist #she ends up kinda accidentally becoming a furry artist because furries pay so well #valeri works for her dad in this au too so they know each other irl #but valeri commissions her via pseudonymous internet persona and becomes her regular customer #comedic mishaps ensue #tag game #tagged #bcc #valeri

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doostyaudi · 2 months ago

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this is a masterpost for my Rave-n AU for madness combat! information is below the cut cuz theres so much! '^^

what is the Rave-N AU?

its a madcom au where people fight to the beat of music, and what music they use depends on what genre of music they're assigned. basically its just madness combat but if it was a rhythm game lol. the lore is different in many aspects, but in general things play out exactly to how it plays in the canon series.

where did you get the idea?

it originally started at Rave-N Hank (rnank), my hanksona. he was just a standalone hanksona before i decided to expand his universe a bit, and here we are now! rnank is STILL my hanksona btw

what can and cant we do?

well, im very lax with this au, i dont have many restrictions other than to just be mindful of the lore and be respectful of my decisions when it comes to the story and characters, thank you!

oh, btw, do NOT treat these characters like their canon counterparts, treat them like u would treat someone's oc as that is what they are. All canon characters within this au are my ocs.

and yes you can put ur ocs into this, as well as making ocs that are exclusively within the au. the only thing to keep in mind when adding an oc to this universe is that if theyre an official citizen of Nevada, they NEED a spiked collar (employers and higher powers are the only ones who are exempt from this rule), doesnt matter how it looks at all, they just need one!

also yes you can ship characters together (oc x canon is welcome and encouraged!!) idc who u ship with who (maybe i will in the future but rn idc)

if you have any additional questions, feel free to ask in my inbox! ill be more than happy to answer! if i find it important enough, ill update this segment with that question added!

characters

main cast: sanford, deimos, doc, tricky, auditor, sheriff, jeb, and phobos

why isnt hank included? he is my hanksona, he is a completely different guy lol. if you want to get a could reference pic of him, look at his artfight page (sorry if you dont have an artfight acc, ill make a new ref for him soon enough!)

literally everyone else: the machine (redesign needed), the maker, conductor, deliberator, stygian, skinner (redesign needed), the sun, torture, white hank, happy hank (skittles), dr.crackpot

misc: aahw guys, alternate rnaudi design, alternate rnaudi design 2, moon (idk if i should keep her in or not..)

my ocs (not canon btw): yara, 04, charlie, maudi, yara but in a different timeline, bank (old old old hanksona), manager

honorable mentions (other ppls ocs/own rave-n designs): redge, explorer

any characters you want to see in the au? my inbox is always open! :3

random assortment of information abt/relating to the au

rnackpot's odd music taste , how music works during fighting (part 1), why are there 2 keystone fragments?, rambles abt rnaudi (part 1), madcom hc that applies here, polyamory? in my madcom? more likely than you think, rnygian hates rnank but cant do anything abt it :(

that is everything, for now! ill try to update it as things go on! feel free to ask me any questions u have!! thank you for reading!

Have the entire twilight movie in a stamp, as a treat!

#text #text post #long post #masterpost #rave n au #madness combat #madcom

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thisismeracing · 9 months ago

Note

bonnington-schumi kiddos

pls include the bono-schumi mood board i sent ya over email in your response

ok i’ve mentioned them enough, lets dig into the bonnington-schumi kiddos

history has a funny way of repeating itself and for bon and mick it manifests in their kids birth order and gender

because much like when corrina had gina and mick, bon had her daughter first and son second. and both came out looking like two more schumacher clones to add to the collection

but bon isn't complaining because how could she be mad when her two babies share those unmistakable blue eyes

their first born is named: Eloise “Ellie” Suzanne Bonnington-Schumacher

and their second born is: Mike “Mikey” Sebastian Bonnington-Schumacher

imagine bon and mick introducing little ellie to susie in the hospital and when susie asks what her name is and bon goes “eloise suzanne” susie just melts because this little bundle of joy is named after her.

and the same goes for sebastian when mikey is born

the f1 crew just going though the cycle of watching another kid grow up in the paddock start up again with miss ellie. but this time it’s the kid of the original kid you watched grow up, and this time around there’s two of them because mikey is born a few years after

and everyone jokes about how “oh ellie is going to be an engineer like her mama” and “oh mikey is a future f1 champ like his papa”

but the opposite happens where ellie is the driver, and mikey is an engineer

And imagine the timelapse of the headphones to protect their little ears and how they look so giant on them cause they’re so small, but give it a few years and now they look proportionate to their bodies

(i feel like that would make a lot of people just so soft and heartbroken because their favorite little kids are growing up and so fast, like pls make it stop 😢)

[also the people who watched bon grow up just get deja vu whenever they are interacting with ellie, because wow does she act just like bon when she was this age]

and best believe these two are championship babies. you can't tell me no on this one.

When they announced they were pregnant with ellie, people both in real life and online are so quick to do the math on when she could’ve been conceived, and they all land on the fact she was conceived around the time of abu dhabi

and after mikey is born, toto sits the both of them down and says “i love that the team is winning championships with mick, and i love the kids. but next time you two do it after winning a championship please for the love of god put a condom on. because two little kids are going to be enough with them running around the paddock.”

and mick is just mortified, while bon is laughing her ass off and she’s the one to reassure him that they wont be having anymore kids anytime soon

[i told myself i had to finish this before showering and i did! also it breached the second page of the google doc so quickly]

☕

skjgksdjg OMG I LOVED LOVED IT!!! <3<3

totally agree on mikey engineer and ellie driver!!! espec bc I think ellie is more of a social butterfly while mikey is a bit shy like mick, he's funny and friendly, but usually he'll only talk if you talk to him first (the paddock experience helps it a little with this, but he keeps a bit of the shyness, its so cute and bb loves it bc he's such a momma's boy - its makes up for ellie being dada's girl)

adding more: ellie's first word will be angie while mikey's will probably be something from bb's work because she'll work with him on her hips sometimes so his big blue eyes are always watching the engineers go around and listening to everything, she'll only connect the dots bc he says it right after a meeting (to which he was silent throughout it all, only munching on a pencil and grabbing things from the table to curiously analyse)

#☕ anon #bonnington!reader #millies inbox #ms47 #thots #f1 x reader #mick schumacher

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lucky-clover-gazette · 5 months ago

Text

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 5

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

Meetings of this kind could take months to arrange; the speed at which it happened now was dizzying, if you did not know Laurent.

i like how damen has immediately fallen back into his book 1 & early book 2 habit of giving laurent backhanded compliments

He sat on the audience throne, with a single oak seat empty beside him and Nikandros standing behind him.

you know, damen, i can think of someone who has recent experience with oak chairs…

When prince met prince there were protocols to observe. You did not greet each other alone in a diaphanous tent. Or thrown to the ground in chains in a palace viewing chamber.

and yet, given the choice between protocol and hanging out with laurent in a tent… i think damen is seriously struggling with which he would truly prefer. if not already decided, in his heart

The last time Akielon and Veretian royalty had met ceremonially had been six years ago, at Marlas, when the Regent had surrendered to Damen’s father, King Theomedes. Out of respect to the Veretians, Damen had not been present, but he remembered the satisfaction of knowing that Veretian royalty was bending its knee to his father. He had liked it. He had probably liked it, he thought, about as much as his men disliked what was happening today, and for the same reasons.

“he had liked it.” ouch. but also showing the subjectivity of damen and laurent’s shared history

It was not like the ecstatic entries Laurent had made into the towns and villages of Vere. No one swooned or cheered or threw flowers at his feet. The camp was silent.

Laurent strolled in, beautifully;

He came down the path that was cleared for him, as though walking unmolested through an Akielon camp was simply his right.

because it is, because he made it so 💅

Damen’s own men watched as a man might watch his enemy sauntering into his house, unable to prevent it.

“sauntering” perfect word choice

‘My brother of Akielos,’ said Laurent.

i know the “brother” thing is part of the “language of kings,” but it’s extra awkward between laurent and damen because 1) damen killed laurent’s actual brother and 2) they’ve literally fucked

Everyone knew that in the Akielon language, princes of foreign nations addressed each other in the fraternal.

and everyone also knows that damen killed laurent’s brother, and that damen and laurent fucked, so it’s weird for them too!

‘Our brother of Vere,’ said Damen.

oooh, damianos has to use the royal “we” since he’s king, further removing himself from his individual identity as damen. part of the kingship/“kingdom or this” theme, which we’re seeing a lot in book 3, for obvious reasons

He recognised Guion, the Regent’s most loyal Councillor, who, sometime in the last three days, had switched sides.

don’t worry about it

Damen lifted his hand, offering it palm up, with fingers outstretched. Laurent lifted his own hand calmly, resting it atop Damen’s. Their fingers met. He could feel the eyes of every Akielon in the tent on him. They proceeded slowly. Laurent’s fingers rested infinitesimally above his own. He felt the moment when the men around him realised what was going to happen. Reaching the dais, they sat, facing outward, the twin oak seats now twin thrones.

of course they had to make this announcement in the most dramatic, shocking, and tense manner possible. like idk, someone could have explained the alliance with words first, just to make sure everyone’s on the same page when the two leaders sit down beside each other. i get that this wordless performance might simply be the appropriate protocol, but damen and laurent still somehow manage to make it feel inappropriate for the occasion.

‘We have called you here today to witness our accord,’ said Damen, in a clear voice that carried over the noise.

i think i read somewhere that pacat compared this scene to a wedding, and that would totally make sense, both with the way its written and the way damen and laurent are allergic to conventional romance story plot beats. like yeah, this WOULD be their wedding, wouldn’t it.

‘Today we mark the alliance of our nations against those pretenders and usurpers who seek to assail our thrones.’

same energy as suspended twitter user donald j trump saying “i would like to extend my best wishes to all, even the haters and losers, on this special date, september 11th.”

Laurent settled in as though the place had been made for him, and adopted the posture he typically favoured, one leg straight out before him, a fine-boned wrist balanced on the arm of the throne.

cunt (affectionate)

Explosions of outrage, furious exclamations, there were hands on the hilts of swords. Laurent did not look particularly concerned by this, or anything.

Coiled and personal, Laurent’s gift was a Veretian whip, made of gold.

i remember reading this for the first time and saying “GIRLLLL” out loud to my cat

He remembered Laurent’s hand giving a little tug on the rod, infuriating, more than that. He remembered having his legs kicked apart, his hands bound, the thick wood of the post against his chest, the lash about to fall on his back. He remembered Laurent, arranging himself against the opposite wall, settling his shoulders there, positioning himself to watch every slightest expression on Damen’s face. His gaze swung to Laurent. He knew he had flushed, he could feel the heat in his own cheeks. In front of the gathered generals, he couldn’t say, What have you done?

there is a strategic advantage to this move on laurent’s part (to be revealed in a minute), but it’s also just him being a petty bitch and trying to make damen flustered/triggered on the throne

Inside the tent, Akielon men and women were looking at one another questioningly, others craning their necks to see.

and actually, this gesture from laurent also tells damen something else: “you thought i was evil for flogging you, my brother’s killer? then refuse my offer for revenge against men who murdered your people, in front of your bloodthirsty nation who want to see it happen. where’s your moral high ground now, bitch.”

‘The whip and the men are Vere’s gift to Akielos,’ said Laurent, and then he turned his melting blue eyes on Damen. ‘The first fifty lashes are my gift to you.’

wouldn’t be the first time laurent gifted damen laurent lashes out of spite. which i’m sure laurent is very smug about, saying this now.

He couldn’t have stopped it, even if he had wanted to.

i do think some of laurent’s revenge here is putting damen in the same powerful/powerless position he (laurent) had been in for seven years in arles. just because laurent was a prince, doesn’t mean he wasn’t a captive too. ultimately, it was laurent's innate responsibility to his people, felt as a prince, that kept him from just leaving entirely. but in order to stay and survive, he had to play dirty and adapt with his uncle's depraved court.

now a king, damen finds himself similarly bound to his duties, in a time of war without the support of his father. and laurent gets some kind of satisfaction in reminding damen of this fall from grace by forcing him to endure the depravity of his own court.

A part of Damen’s mind recognised how perfectly this gift had been judged, the exquisite virtuosity of it: Laurent was delivering him a backhanded blow with one hand, and with the other, caressing his generals as a man scratches a dog under the chin.

isander foreshadowing. the ethical implications of that entire thing are going to be soooo tricky to unpack when i get to it

Damen heard himself say, ‘Vere is generous.’ ‘After all,’ Laurent held his gaze, ‘I remember what you like.’ The stripped men were tied down.

jesus FUCKING christ.

okay. here’s the thing. there’s literally no plausible interpretation of “i remember what you like” that makes this diplomatic or professional. the contrast of damen being so careful and disciplined with his language, and laurent just shooting out these insanely personal disses like it’s no big deal, is SOOOOOOO…

like. what the fuck is the audience thinking when they hear that line. it would be like watching a broadcast of two real-life world leaders doing a diplomatic ceremony, and one of them is like "i look forward to our partnership" and the other goes, at full volume and in the same exact tone of voice, "i know. you told me that last night."

Damen felt his pulse speed up as he realised he was going to watch Laurent have ten men flayed alive in front of him.

although i do seem to recall damen saying to himself back in like book 2 that he’d seen plenty of akielion soldiers flayed (flogged? is it the same thing?) as punished, and even commanded it once or twice, so…

‘Furthermore,’ said Laurent, his voice pitched to carry, ‘Fortaine’s bounty is yours. Its physicians will tend to your wounded. Its storehouses will feed your men. The Akielon victory at Charcy was hard-won. All that Vere gained while you fought is yours, and it is deserved. I will not profit from any hardship that befalls the rightful King of Akielos or his people.’

laurent is so smart. he knows how to work a crowd, even when it’s full of people who despise him. and he’s not even breaking a sweat.

You will lose Straton. You will lose Makedon, Nikandros had said, but he hadn’t counted on the fact that Laurent would arrive, and begin, dangerously, to control everything.

Bloody and pulped, the men, who were no longer men, were cut from the whipping blocks. That took time too, because more than one handler was needed to lift each man, and no one was quite certain which of the men were unconscious and which were dead.

you know, maybe no one should flay or flog anyone else. like, as a general rule. have we thought of that?

Damen said, ‘We have a personal gift too.’

the return of the antagonistic lamen “yes, and!” one of the few things from book 1 i truly miss

(also, i’m glad damen didn’t come into this tableau full intending to be professional and respectful. like he planned some petty freak shit too, in advance. he is still ant with a bindle, but he has his pride. he’s always had pride, even as a slave, especially as a slave. and if damen can’t have laurent as a lover or a friend, he can at least “enjoy” engaging in weird mind games with him instead. in a way, it’s kind of enrichment for them both.)

Last night, in the evening darkness of the tent, he had pulled this gift from his packs and looked down at it, feeling its weight in his hands. Once or twice before, he had thought about this moment. In his most private thoughts, he’d imagined it happening with the two of them alone together.

okay, never mind, i massively overestimated the spiteful pettiness from damen here :( he wanted to do this in another way, lovingly and privately. he's only doing it here and now because he has to, in order to earn his army's respect. ant with a bindle, through and through.

it’s okay buddy, you can marry laurent again post-canon. and then you won’t even be figuratively divorced while doing it!

He hadn’t imagined it like this, the private made public, and painful. He didn’t have Laurent’s ability to hurt with what mattered most.

and that's why this series works. see my long essay about damen as the heart of the series in chapter 4.

‘Every man here knows that you kept us as a slave,’ said Damen. He said it loudly enough that all those gathered in the pavilion tent could hear. ‘We wear your cuff on our wrist. But today, the Prince of Vere will prove himself our equal.’

THE ROYAL “WE” 💀 💀 💀

you know, technically it was kastor, an akielion, who made damen a slave and gave him specifically to laurent. they didn’t even have slaves in vere before akielos gifted them one. just sayin

He gestured and one of his squires came forward. It was still wrapped in cloth. He felt the sudden tension in Laurent, though there was no outward change. Damen said, ‘You asked for it, once.’ The squire drew back the cloth to reveal a gold cuff. He felt rather than saw the tightness in Laurent. The cuff, unmistakably, was the twin to the one Damen wore, altered last night by a blacksmith for Laurent’s finer wrist. Damen said, ‘Wear it for me.’ For a moment he thought Laurent wasn’t going to do it. But in public, Laurent had no recourse to refusal. Laurent extended his hand. And then waited, palm outstretched, his eyes lifting to meet Damen’s. Laurent said, ‘Put it on me.’

the fact that this isn’t even damen being mean, but just painfully earnest and hurt and yearning, clearly not what laurent expected at all… :( damen is refusing to play dirty, no matter how hard laurent goads him. and he doesn’t even want to hurt laurent, in fact he almost seems to long for him. that’s probably what surprises and confuses this self-loathing mean girl era laurent the most. he keeps trying (and succeeding) to push damen away, but damen still refuses to push back.

also, lamen hr complaint #7, made by everyone present besides damen and laurent. nothing specific, but just a vague feeling of "uh, was it professional to make us watch and participate in this?" after the fact

Every pair of eyes in the tent was on him. Damen took Laurent’s wrist in his hand. He would have to unlace the fabric and push the sleeve back. He could feel the devouring gazes of the Akielons in the tent, as hungry for this as they had been for the whipping. Rumours of Damen’s enslavement in Vere had spread like fire through the camp. To see the Veretian Prince wear the gold cuff of a palace bed slave in turn was shocking, intimate, a symbol of Damen’s ownership.

i love how these books manage to make things unbelievably hot, even when they have nothing to do with sex. they might as well be fucking right now and it would feel less intimate and personal. which actually might be the entire point of the veretian pets and akielion slaves being so horny on main all the time, to serve as a contrast to the deep eroticism of this.

Laurent’s blue eyes remained cool, but under Damen’s thumb, Laurent’s pulse was rabbit fast.

laurent came here expecting to control a crowd, not to be emotionally compromised and vulnerable in front of one. and he’s probably even more flustered/upset about the fact that damen was able to make him feel and react like this so publicly, without even appearing to have malicious or vindictive intent. what laurent serves as poison, is what damen serves him back as medicine. and while laurent can handle an angry crowd just fine, he has no means with which to defend himself from damen’s endearing love and care.

He pushed back the fabric. It was more bare skin than Laurent had ever shown in public, on display to the entire tent.

“you look like a whore” <3

another accidental damen reverse card, calling back to the way damen was publicly exposed in book 1. not even meant to hurt laurent but still probably landing like revenge.

‘Help me regain my kingdom, and I’ll see you King of Vere.’ Damen fitted the cuff to Laurent’s left wrist.

his teeny tiny little wrist…

‘I’m overjoyed to wear a gift that reminds me of you,’ said Laurent.

he may be flustered, but he’s still That Bitch.

The cuff locked into place. He didn’t withdraw his wrist, just left it leaned on the arm of the throne, laces open and gold cuff in full view.

it’s like they have those matching t shirts that say “i’m hers” and “i’m his,” except damen’s would say “i’m his” and laurent’s would say “i’m terrified of attachment” and then “i’m his” in significantly smaller text

Horns were blown the length of the ranks, and refreshments were brought. All that had to happen now was for Damen to endure the rest of the welcoming ceremony, and at the end, sign their treaty.

damen and laurent just invented divorced marriage! truly trailblazers of their time

A series of display fights were performed, marking the occasion with disciplined choreography. Laurent watched with polite attention, and underneath that, possibly real attention, as it would suit him to catalogue Akielon fighting techniques.

they should have a homoerotic fight sequence instead of a first dance

Across from Makedon, Vannes was taking refreshments. Vannes had been the Regent’s Ambassador to the all-female court of the Vaskian Empress, who it was said ripped men apart with her leopards for public sport.

VANNES HIIIIIII VANNES!!!!! THE GIRLS ARE HEREEEEEEE!!!!!!

(can you tell that i'm getting tired of the almost entirely male cast)

He thought of the delicate dealings with the Vaskian clans that Laurent had engineered, all along their ride south. He said, ‘Are you going to tell me what won Vannes to your side?’ Laurent said, ‘It’s no secret. She is to be the first member of my Council.’

laurent feminism win. any person of any gender can be politically valuable.

(i have more complex thoughts on women in this series, which i’ve written about before. i do think laurent feels a genuine sense of solidarity with most women in this series, specifically the disempowered ones like loyse and the sex workers at the brothel. but vannes is a special case, because she’s cruel and sadistic just like the men in power, so i don’t think laurent promising her a place in his council has anything more to do with her gender than the fact that the misogynistic regent wouldn’t do the same.)

‘And Guion?’ ‘I threatened his sons. He took it seriously. I had already killed one of them.’

“i had already killed one of them.”

laurent says this flippantly, but it's kind of freudian slip. laurent admits here that he sees himself as directly responsible for aimeric’s suicide. which is… a very laurent thing to think, and then to weaponize against himself inside his own head. i think a big part of the reason laurent is able to take insults so carelessly, and even insult himself as a deflection, is that he knows that nobody knows him better than himself, and that he’s thought worse things of himself than anyone else possibly could.

‘If this is truly an alliance between equals,’ said Makedon, ‘it’s a pity we can’t see a display of Veretian fighting.’ You are seeing one right now and you don’t even know it, thought Damen.

wait the first dance thing was a joke, but maybe i just vaguely recalled it actually happening??

also, love that thought from damen. perfect read of the scene, although i think people are probably a little more aware of their freakiness than damen seems to assume.

‘Or a contest,’ Makedon said. ‘Veretian against Akielon.’ ‘Are you proposing to challenge Lady Vannes to a duel?’ said Laurent.

kind of a desperate thing for laurent to say. a weak snarky deflection, basically admitting that he does not want to fight damen in front of everyone right now.

Blue eyes met brown. Laurent was relaxed on the throne, and Damen was too aware of what Makedon saw: a youth, less than half his age; a princeling who shirked battle; a courtier with lazy, indoor elegance.

despite appearances, damen knows that laurent is an excellent fighter and a suitable match for himself. again with the backhanded compliment!!

‘But we are like brothers.’ Laurent smiled. Damen felt Laurent’s fingertips touch his; their fingers slid into one another.

“alive brothers, to be precise. not that i’d know anything about having one of those, right, husband?”

side note, i 100% see post-canon laurent calling damen “husband” just as much as his actual name. it’s the perfect mix of condescending, performative, affectionate, and possessive. between them it would almost feel like an inside joke, which we all know damen and laurent enjoy. perfect.

He knew from long experience when Laurent was repressing everything into a single hard kernel of distaste.

for a second i was like, “why is laurent so against this, when he’s a good fighter?” but then i remembered that he got fucking stabbed in the shoulder like two days ago

Heralds brought the document, ink on paper, written in two languages, side by side so that neither one was atop the other. It was simply worded. It did not contain endless clauses and subclauses. It was a brief declaration: Vere and Akielos, united against their usurpers, allied in friendship and common cause.

not the marriage certificate…

He signed it. Laurent signed it. Damianos V and Laurent R, with a big loopy L.

oh of COURSE laurent makes a big loopy L, and of course damen makes specific note of it.

also, help. what the fuck do the letters stand for. they don’t have last names. i thought “V” could be like a roman numeral or something, but what the fuck is “R.” i know i could look this up and probably figure it out on my own, and so i will momentarily, but i did just want to say here that i’m stumped.

okay, got it. apparently R stands for “roi,” the french word for king, and v stands for “vasileus,” the greek word for king. fair enough!

‘To our wondrous union,’ said Laurent.

CUNT

And the Akielons were filing out too, the officers and the generals, the dismissed slaves, until he was alone with Nikandros, whose eyes were on him, furious, and with all the flat knowledge of an old friend.

nik private twitter vent #9, he livetweeted the lamen divorce wedding. also, a note on the nik private twitter bit: damen follows him, and is just happy that nik has a space to express himself :)

‘You gave him Delpha,’ said Nikandros. ‘It wasn’t—’ ‘A bedding gift?’ said Nikandros. ‘You go too far.’

to be fair, laurent would totally be down to negotiate land ownership with weird sex games

‘Do I? I remember Ianestra. And Ianora,’ said Nikandros. ‘And Eunides’s daughter. And Kyra the girl from the village—’

HE HAS A LIST.

‘That’s enough. I won’t talk about this.’

nikandros: why does the prince of vere call you babygirl damen: that’s enough. i won’t talk about this

‘You don’t need to talk, I have seen him,’ said Nikandros. ‘I don’t care what you’ve seen. It’s not what you think.’

nikandros saw that laurent was blonde and immediately heard the vine boom sound effect

‘I think he is beautiful and unobtainable, when your whole life, you’ve never had a refusal,’ said Nikandros.

not wrong, but not right either. damen genuinely loves and respects laurent, like as person and not just as a fuck. and pretty much anyone damen has wanted to have sex with in life has immediately agreed, because he’s a prince. being disinterested in sex without deep personal connection, and being a prince himself, laurent is different from damen's previous partners. he's less unobtainable, and more just, like, evenly-matched.

‘You have committed Akielos to an alliance because the Prince of Vere has blue eyes and blond hair.’

… multiple things can be true. those aren’t the only reasons.

damen likes blondes #9

And then, in a terrible voice, ‘How many times does Akielos have to suffer because you can’t keep your—’

nik private twitter vent #10:

Damen was angry, he wanted to smash the glass beneath his fingers. To let the pain of the glass cut into him.

having a “hurt” by nine inch nails moment. a “no children” by the mountain goats moment. yeah, i should make the lamen divorce playlists

‘Do you think—for a moment that I’d . . . Nothing,’ he said, ‘is more important to me than Akielos.’

i don’t want to be neglectful of the “kingdom or this” theme, because it does come up a lot. it’s just that, at this point, i don’t have much to add.

‘He is the Prince of Vere! He doesn’t care about Akielos! Are you saying you aren’t swayed by the thought of having him? Open your eyes, Damianos!’

nikandros, the slave sex user, should shut the fuck up about damen yearning for his “unobtainable” equal. damen isn’t the only one here with a blind spot.

‘You want him. It’s natural. He looks like one of the statues Nereus has in his garden, and he’s a prince of your own rank. He dislikes you, but dislike can have its own appeal,’ said Nikandros. ‘So bed him. Satisfy your curiosity. Then, when you have seen that mounting one blond is much like mounting another, move on.’

this is fucking infuriating. laurent is so much more than his pretty appearance, and a lot of his insecurity and problems with vulnerability revolve around the way people view him as a sexual object. his relationship with damen was founded on mutual respect and personal understanding. and damen knows this, and i’m sure he’s infuriated too. looking forward to his response.

The silence went on a moment too long.

looking forward to his response.

He had no intention of putting any of it in words. I told him I was a slave, and he pretended to believe me. I kissed him on the battlements. He had his servants bring me to his bed. It was our last night together, and he gave himself to me. He knew all the while it happened that I was the man who killed his brother.

right, damen is still confused by laurent more than anything else at this point. he doesn’t know where either of them stand. the only thing he recalls here is a sense of disorientation, trying to align what he’s learned about laurent’s internal workings with the way he’d interacted with damen physically and emotionally. and the puzzle pieces don’t fit, so he doesn’t want to think or talk about it. and he doesn’t really blame nikandros for his confusion or crass description of laurent, because damen still doesn’t understand how laurent could have even allowed any of the sexual things between them to happen in the first place.

also, unfortunately, i think we can gather from the way nikandros speaks here that damen has spoken this way about partners in the past. and that’s probably part of why it doesn’t bother him as viscerally as it bothers me.

‘Yes I lay with him,�� said Damen. ‘It was one night. He barely relaxed the whole time. I will admit I—wanted him.

and this probably isn’t how damen is used to talking about sexual partners, so it comes out awkward and insecure and weirdly earnest. better than being a douchebag, so i’m calling it character development.

'But he is the Prince of Vere and I am the King of Akielos. This is a political alliance. He approaches it without emotion. So do I.’

ngl this is frustrating, esp when i’m reading so slowly and taking notes… not a problem with the writing at all, but just 😬 😬 😬 how many times do i have to point out that these two men are emotionally unintelligent and needlessly evasive before they figure out their shit, put down their defenses, and talk to each other

‘It’s not the same.’ ‘Laurent is not Jokaste?’

😬 😬 😬

i am trying not to waste too much of my time with this scene but he’s wrong, we all know nik is wrong by implying they’re the same because we know laurent better than nik does etc etc etc oh my god this is exactly why there’s a trial scene at the end and damen gets to be laurent’s defense attorney isn’t it

‘I do. I know,’ said Damen, ‘who he is, and that it means I cannot have him.’

you’re literally a king, if anyone is qualified to CHANGE THAT it’s you

‘No. Listen Damianos. You trust blindly. You see the world in absolutes—if you believe someone a foe, nothing will dissuade you from arming up to fight. But when you give your affections . . . When you give a man your loyalty, your faith in him is unswerving. You would fight for him with your last breath, you would hear no word spoken against him, and you would go to the grave with his spear in your side.’

this is true, at least. nik knows damianos well, he just doesn’t know laurent or our damen. but as i myself have commented, damianos and damen are ultimately both the same guy, even though he’s evolved throughout the series.

‘And are you so different?’ said Damen. ‘I know what it means that you are riding with me. I know that if I am wrong you will lose everything.’

“i will fight for him just as you fight for me, so i suppose that makes us both noble fools.”

He said, ‘The Prince of Vere.’ When he looked at Damen again, it was a sidelong glance under his raised brows, and for a moment they were boys again, on the sawdust, throwing spears that fell six feet short of the men’s hide targets.

“i can’t believe you hit that.”

‘Can you imagine,’ said Nikandros, ‘what your father would say if he knew?’

this feels more playful than the previous conversation, a bit lighter. both an admonishment and like a “ooooooh you’re so baaaaad >:)”

‘Yes,’ said Damen. ‘Which girl from the village was called Kyra?’ ‘They all were. Damianos. You can’t trust him.’

having a hard time reading this. my best interpretation: damen’s question is a reference to the chillest part of the previous conversation, nik’s list, in order to un-harsh the vibe. poking fun at nik for keeping a list, and poking fun at himself for having a type.

nik’s response is still pretty unchill, implying that all the people on that list are interchangeable and harmless. unlike laurent, who damen needs to get over because he’s untrustworthy and dangerous, despite also being pretty and blonde.

‘I know that.’ He finished the wine. Outside, there were hours of daylight left, and work to be done.

damen has been pretty consistently self-aware about the fact that he can’t trust laurent to be entirely honest about his intentions or plans, but he (damen) still cares for him (laurent) regardless. and he’s been living with that conflict and just kind of saying “this is fine” like the dog in that meme. this scene, i think, is nikandros basically walking into the room and trying to extinguish the fire. which nik is uniquely capable of doing, because he understands damen enough to notice the things that his friend is ignoring.

‘You’ve spent a morning with him and you’re warning me off. Just wait,’ said Damen, ‘until you’ve spent a full day with him.’ ‘You mean that he improves with time?’ ‘Not exactly,’ said Damen.

damen loves his blonde nightmare malewife so much <3 nik is going to scream into a paper bag

#capri #sam reads capri #captive prince #kings rising #damen of akielos #laurent of vere #lamen #nikandros of delpha #is that his name idk i yell at him in this one #you can see in the way i comment on male side characters like nik and jord that i get pretty tired of all the men in these books lol #damen and laurent are enough for me to deal with

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lili863 · 2 years ago

Text

HUNTED (PT 3)

DARK! Ominis (Dominis) x Y/N or MC

Warning: 18+, Mature, Nsfw, Minors DNI

An: Welp.. better late than never, I say.... ahaha...this is longest fic I ever fucking wrote Imma be honest. But! It has been an abosulute joy thanks to all the love it received ❤️ So whenever I write for Ominis (which is all the ducking time) I try to incorporate his personality as MUCH as possible. THIS is a Dominis fic. Meaning Ominis will NOT be a soft sub who whines..(not that there is anything wrong with that 😏) it's going to be this whole other side of him that I wanted to explore (he is a gaunt, after all). A side I know many people who write for him doesn't often like to incorporate maybe..because we all love him as the soft loveable boy who is a soft dom at best, so all I am saying its going to be a little different thats it.

Also, this fic is pure word vomit, and my pent-up sexual energy converted to a word doc. I am not nesseraliy a good smut writer, but I tried my best. I hope yall enjoy

MUCH LOVE ❤️

Part 1

Part 2

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The sound of your heavy breaths rung throughout the empty quiet halls as you ran harder then you ever did.

You didn't even have the energy to think about everything that just happened, including teaching paxton a lesson he wasn't going to forget. But that thought was certainly going to be revisited later.

As you raced through the empty corridors, your boots clacked loudly against the marble floors, and you could only hope you weren't causing too much commotion.

The urgency of this chase heightened with only 15 minutes left as you scrambled over flights of stairs, the passing halls blurring in your peripheral vision. When you reach a corner, a dead end loomed before you, with more stairs leading to a higher level on your right.

Your aching body turned to move towards the stairs when suddenly a mysterious brown, rusty door materialized at the end of the wall.

You froze, observing the door with wonder. You had walked these halls plenty of times, but you dont ever recall seeing a door like this.

Had you just missed it all this time?

The activities of your late night venture, however, soon caught up to you. Exausted, you had no choice but to seek refuge behind the door. As you approached, you noticed the intricate carving etched onto the knob, its design shrouded in mystery. Slowly turning the handle, you felt a sense of relief that it wasn’t locked. You couldn't run anymore. You needed to hide.

The creaking door opened, giving away to a dark, desolate room.

Your hands reached behind you, to feel for your wand when suddenly you pasued.

With a groan of frustration, you realized Ominis had took it which mean you were now wandless.

"Bollocks" you muttered.

As you looked upon the dark room once more, you quiekty debated if this was a good idea.

Especially in this castle-

Before you could finish the thought, your ears perked up at the sound of footsteps behind. Whipping around in a state of painc, your wide eyes faced a shadow moving towards you as it seemed to be heading fown the stairs you were about to go up to.

"Damn Sharp. Expecting me to patrol when those ungrateful brats can't even do a simple job-"

Your heart began to pick up at the sound of that voice.

It was the caretaker.

Well shit. Now you absolutely had no other choice.

You quietly stepped into the room before slowly closing the door, cringing at the slight creaks.

In the dark of the room, you waited behind the door, hearing his footsteps approach the door.

You held your breath,praying they go the other way and to your relief. All you heard were his grumbles of complaints before his footstpes became fainter down the hall.

A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you slowly turned around to face the room.

There had to be some torches here you could light up wandlessly.

To your relief, a circular window appeared at the end of the room, where the moonlit night graciously casted the room in an ominous glow.

Even if it did make the room look a little creepy, you were grateful for whatever light it provided.

Squinting your eyes, you scanned the room as best as you could when the edge of a table caught your eyes at your right where a bunch of books were stackted on top.

Perfect. There was probably a candle there you light up. You approached the table cautiously, feeling your way with your hands.

What you would give right now to have your wand with you.

As your fingers touched the wood, you noticed a collection of leather-bound books and some small candles besides them.

You took one of the metal holders, which supported the waxy stick, and proceeded to cast a small flame with the tip of your finger, instantly lighting up the dark little corner of the room.

The tall stack of books was the first thing that caught your eyes. It casted a shadow on the wall behind it, snatching your attention.

A singular book laid on the table besides the stacks as you held the candle near to it to give it some light. You ran your fingers over the carving on it which read, “A Muggle’s Guide to the Wizarding World.”

How intriguing.

A smile crossed your face at the sight of it. It seemed like it was written by someone who wasn’t a blood supremacist lunatic.

Perhaps youll take this book and read it later.

Turning around, the light began to touch other parts of the room as you walked in deeper.

With quiet steps you approached the other corner when suddenly, the light revealed what stood in front you.

Fuck"! You hollered in surprise.

Your body jumped back before your heart picked up again, seemingly getting no breaks today.

The candle you held almost spilled its hot waxy substance all over you before you steadied yourself.

The dim light revealed a horde of large statues shrouded in white, dusty cloths that looked like ghostly apparitions in the dark.

Shivers ran through you in waves at the chilling sight.

"Thats no creepy at all.."

Unfortunately, your sarcastic remark did nothing to lighten the mood as you stood still in their presence.

The faces of the statues were covered, but the sheet did nothing to mask their expressions, like a curse woven into the very fabric pressed upon their features, their horrifying expressions pierced through, most looking like they were stuck in constant torment, almost clawing at the sheets.

You could feel the air in the room take a turn to something much more sinister.

Your hand drew to press on your chest in an attempt to calm yourself as your mind urgently notified you to get out of this room this instant. Your eyes flew to the door, as it was your only exit out of here before rhey slowly made their way back to the unsettling visual in front of you.

There wasn't much time left to the game. If you could brave it out for 10 more minutes, all of this would be well worth it. At least that's what you tried to convince yourself with.

You inhaled a deep breath before turning around and walking away, opting to read that book you found earlier in an attempt to distrqct yourself when suddenly a creak behind you had you spinning around with a jolt.

Once again, your heart began to slam against your chest. Everything was still, and yet something just didn't feel right.

Furrowing your brows, you focused intently, trying to pinpoint the origin of that abrupt noise. Time seemed to stand still for a brief moment, a tense silence enveloping the surroundings.

You scoffed in disbelief and shut your eyes at the ridiculous situation. To say this night has been eventful would be the understatement of the century.

Another sigh forced its way out of your lips before you turned around without another look and began walking towards the table.

You grumbled now slightly annyoed at yourself. "Must you put yourself through this torture? Really? After everything you went through? And now here you are, scared of a couple of statues -"

Mid-sentence, your head snapped towards the object of your complaints, only to find the cloaked figure mere inches away from your face.

Time stood still for a fleeting second before a blood-curdling scream tore from your throat, echoing through the room as you stumbled backward, landing on the floor with a resounding thud.

The candle in your hand flew and shattered on the floor, your precious flame fizzing out immediately and shrouding you in the darkness of the room

“Fuck”! A curse unleased from your lips as you looked upom the looming figure standing over your body.

Panting violently, you crawled backward in desperation until your back collided with the table legs. Instinctively, your hand darted to your pocket, fumbling for the grip of your most precious object , before the blood drained from your face

Dread consumed you as you realized the bitter truth – you didn't have your wand. In the very moment of direst need, you found yourself utterly defenseless.

You wanted to curse Ominis, but your attention was consumed by the baffling proximity of the statue—how it had silently moved inches away from you."

Was this room enchanted? Were these statues sentient?!

Something was wrong here.

Amidst the rows of silent statues, a single figure emitted a bone-chilling groan, jolting you from your thoughts. Your eyes widened in terror as you watched the figure deliberately rotate towards you as if it were alive.

Your immediate thought was to flee, as your eyes darted between the door and the glostly figures seemingly waiting to just jump you, but it remained still and fixed its gaze on you, almost as if it was waiting for you to do something.

There was nothing in this room within your proximity or sight you could use to defend yourself with. You could only rely on the limited amount of wandless magic you knew but the only thing you could think of that could do some amount of damage was confringo, depulso or a bit of your ancient magic which you were still working on.

But even those spells weren't powerful enough without your wand. You weren't that advanced yet.

In a split moment of clarity, you huffed with vigor.

Fuck this!

Determined not to be trapped, you took a deep breath and hoisted yourself up wirh trembling legs and marched forward through the room, laser-focused on reaching the door.

But just as you neared your escape, it looked like your presence had bothered these figures more then they let on as all of them suddenly slid towards you, stopping abruptly in your path.

You gasped in terror, once again trapped as tears threatened to spill down your face. Quickly, you retreated yet again.

Maybe you had use these spells after all. You had no choice.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, your hands shot forward, poised to unleash any magic you can conjure at anything obstructing your path. Every fiber of your being was focused on reaching that door, even if it meant fighting tooth and nail. Just as your incantation formed on your lips, three of the statues sprang to life and lunged at you agreesivly. Their unexpected movement left you with scant seconds to react, no time to conjure the protection you desperately needed.

As your body recoiled backward, on the verge of another embarrassing fall, a powerful force suddenly enveloped your waist, swiftly pulling you back while a protective arm flew to shield your eyes from the object of your fear. You jolted violently, your hands flying to grip the arms around you as a shriek tore from your throat.

Upon being trapped by this sudden presence, your mind instantly whipped up in a frenzy of panic and fear as you writhed violently against the figure with a sob.

Without your wand, you felt helpless, and this kind of surprise was hardly what you ever encountered in a fight.

"Arresto momentum."

Suddenly, all the chaos in the room seized before compelte silence ensued.

Your body froze after hearing the incantation before realization struck you like a bolt of lightening.

The figure shielding your eyes proceeded to push you head back against their shoulders, leaving you vulnerable and at their mercy.

With a heaving chest, your shaky hands drew up to your eyes feeling the long, cold fingers pressed against them gently.

At the touch, the figure leaned down, their warm breath caressed your neck.

"Game over".

You gasped. "...Ominis"?

"Did I scare you darling?"

His taunting voice cut through the air, a striking contrast to the chilling atmosphere of the room, eliciting a whimper from your trembling lips..

Both of you knew that question didn't need an answer because it was painfully obvious.

With a small chuckle, you felt his soft lips press a gentle kiss at the side of your neck before murmering into your skin. "They're not real love."

You slumped against the figure with heaving gasps as relief washed over you at the quick comprehension of what was going on.

The atmosphere seemed less haunting now, but that was likely because you swiftly grasped the identity of the mastermind behind the hell you just went through.

With a sharp intake, you twirled around in his arms and threw your arms around in his hold, hiding your cowardly face in the crook of his neck, relishing his comforting scent.

It was Ominis all along, just having a good fucking laugh, probably because you ditched him earlier with that deranged jerk.

But how he even managed to find you or sneak into this room was something you couldnt even comprehend.

Irregardless... you lost. Miserably.

You wanted to unleash your wrath, but right now, you had half a mind to scold Ominis for this rather cruel prank as the fear still gripped your body in a paralyzing hold.

He felt your trembling body pressed against his, a visceral realization that you sought his embrace after all that happened.

A few moments passed by as everything sunk in.

You came to him.

The young Gaunt eagerly encircled your waist, pulling you into him with as much restraint as possible while his other hand cradled the back of your head.

As dark as it was, Ominis couldn't help but feel a sinister pride swell within his chest at the choice of your actions.

At the end of the day, you belonged to him. Even if you didnt know it yet

Ominis felt the dark locs of your hair tickle his face before he inhaled your alluring scent, becoming comsumed by an overwhelming possessiveness.

He was aware of how popular you were at this school.

With a constant stream of admirers vying for your attention, it was hard to control the unhinged emotions clawing at his chest as the days went by.It took all his remaining control, not hurt Alexander Paxton

He got off way too easy. And what's worse was the fact that Ominis knew that there were others like him, scattered throughout the school, all harboring the hope of one day claiming you as their own.

But this time, he wasn't just going to listen to people talk about you as if they could have you.

They can't.

Perhaps next time, he'd blast them through a window or snap their wands in half. But one things for sure, they weren't going to get away with just a simple threat of explusion anymore.

And merlin he knew..he knew how wrong it was to think like this.

Yet, no matter how fervently Ominis tried to convince himself otherwise, he couldn't ignore the undeniable truth that he would stop at nothing, going beyond boundaries, to protect what was rightfully his.

The thought of anyone calling you their girlfriend or in the future - their wife somehow made him sick to his stomach.

The two of you held each other in silence in the dark of the room before his hands, once encircling your waist, ventured lower, their grip tightening on the bony contours of your hips.

A faint whimper slipped from your parted lips, stirred by the delicate sensation. The small knowing smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth was a response reserved solely for you, effortlessly coaxed forth by the mere sound of your voice.

Thats right.

Only he could hear you like this.

With a deft flick of his other hand, the statues began to move again, but this time out of your sight showcasing Ominis wandless prowess.

You tried not to gape at the effortlessness of his gesture, but it was quite hard not to be impressed, even if you knew Ominis had a an understated talent in magical capabilities that he so cleverly concealed behind a veil of modesty.

You felt the young gaunt's nimble fingers travel lower, coiling around the back of your neck and encircling your pulse point beneath your jugular.

He observed your pulse silently as a way to check if you were truly alright, which seemed to have calmed down a bit.

You sniffled before muttering "How are you even here? How did you find me"?

Ominis smiled softly, "I gave you my word, did I not?"

"So you just decided on a whim to scare the living lights out of me?" You frowned.

A breathy laugh escaped his lips. "All in good fun, dove. I must admit, I didn't anticipate you being so utterly terrified by a bunch of statues"

The embarrassment crawled at you yet again.

"Yeah, well, how would you feel if you were trapped in a dark room with these abominable looking creatures all out to suddenly get you"?! you exclaimed, feeling a surge of annyonace rising in you.

Ominis pressed his lips, almost looking like he was trying to suppress his amusement, which still shined through his cloudy eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, go on and have a good laugh. I cant believe you find this funny when you were the one who snatched my wand! In front of a prefect"!

You pulled away from him, glaring softly.

"You mean to tell me that an ancient magic weilder like you are completely defenless without a wand"? Ominis smiles, tugging a stray hair behind your ears.

"Darling, however, did you manage to defeat a whole rebellion?"

You frowned, ready to retort a response, but really..it was a valid question. Even without your wand, you should have been able to destroy that statue with the range of the magic you were capable of. But in the heat of the moment, your mind just drew a complete blank, which wasnt an excuse you were about to give to Ominis, with him knowing you have won hard fought battles with worst odds.

"Y-yeah well.."..

You sighed, your head falling on his chest in defeat.

"Not everyone is a master at wandless magic like Gaunt. Just...please dont tell Sebastian"..

Ominis couldn't help the playful smirk that appeared on his lips highly amused before sputtering out a laugh that echoed through the room.

With a scoff of disbelief, you rubbed your temples with a sigh, trying to suppress the small grin that eventually made its way to your lips.

Your heart throbbed at the melodic sound that dissolved your pissy mood in an instant.

"I am serious, okay, please?! Sebastian would never let me live this down-YOU are never going to let me live this down, are you"?! Your hands flew to his collars, rocking him with sob like groan. The highly amused slytherin chuckled as you whined desperately. "Ominis please"!

"I just find it fascinating how you're able to ram through dark wizards and goblins on a daily basis, and yet a bunch of statues managed to get the jump on you."

Rolling your eyes, you remark, "You will be surprised to know that fighting dark wizards and goblins is much easier since you can actually see them and not have them pop out of the dark at you"

The teasing grin on his face widened, "Well, I dont have that luxuary, and yet finding you wasn't really much of a challenge darling".

Ouch.

You grab him by the collars again with a glare, tugging him closer to your face.

"If I knew what an arrogant arse you were, I wouldn't have underestimated you like this"

With a breathy scoff, Ominis licked his lips as darted down to them.

"And yet it seems that's exactly what you did"

His retort silenced you, the truth of his words sinking in and extinguishing your anger as quickly as it had flared.

Gradually, you started to grasp the reality of your situation.

Ominis, ever observant, noticed your sudden quietude and playfully tapped his fingers against your hip, a smile playing on his lips, entertained by the gears that he can practically hear spinning in your head, trying to make sense of his unexpected presence here.

"You knew I had found you back there. Didnt you".

His sudden question hung in the air, catching you off guard.

Momentarily silent, you responded after, "....Yes. It was pretty hard to ignore how your unseeing eyes practically zeroed in on me. "

"And yet you went out of your to avoid me. We both knew I'd won your challenege already".

"I wasn't trying to avoid you" you muttered under your breath, which Ominis no doubt heard.

You felt a finger lift your chin to face him fully, a taunting smile on his lips.

"Liar".

You pulled away from his hold with a huff. Nothing was going right for this evening.

Ominis stood up straighter, now practically towering over you.

"Game wasnt over yet Gaunt. You still had to catch me".

Ominis didn't reply immediately. With a momentary pause, he stepped back and leisurely leaned against the table behind him, emitting a thoughtful hum.

"You know, perhaps I would have shown a bit more kindness tonight if you hadn't ditched me with that insuffeable twit before turning this torturous game of yours into a wild chase around the castle. But alas, it seems you enjoy testing my patience."

You chuckled quietly, making your way over to him with a smirk. "Ahhh.. I see you're still hung up on that"

Ominis scowled, a dangerous glint in his eyes as his features hardened at your teasing remark "You would be wise not to test me like this, even when it comes to you, my paitence still has its limits."

A finger smoothed over his silk green tie before grabbing it with a small tug.

Ominis seized you in response, pulling you forcefully towards him until your bodies collided.

Oh, how you loved this.

Times like this are the only chances you get to take peak at the manifestation of his other side. He always tried to hide, especially from you.

"And you should know...I would do it all over again just to see every little vein pop out of your pretty little neck".

The air surrounding the two of you dropped several degrees at your bold statment as you observed his face drop to something darker. It was the type of face Ominis had never shown even when the two fo fought. Suddenly, being so close his overwhelming presence started to suffocate you.

A throaty chuckle resonated in the air, but you knew he found this moment far from amusing.

"My suspicions are correct then. You love nothing more than to get on my nerves and see how I react. Is that it"?

Inhaling sharply, you instinctively pulled your face away, creating as much space as possible between you and Ominis. The sheer intensity of his gaze made you shrink back making you second-guess the wisdom of provoking him in such a way.

"You have some nerve darling..."

A chill of anticipation coursed down your back as Ominis leaned in.

Oh, you were really in for it now...

With a firm grasp on the back of your head, he pulled it back, exposing your neck for his view. The sensation wasn't painful, but it didn't feel gentle either.

Ominis leaned down, leaving open mouth kisses along the center of your throat, feeling the vibrations of the faint moans escaping your lips.

You hissed sharply, feeling the pinch of his sharp canines grazing your delicate skin before nipping it.

Ominis moaned lowly, feeling the small finches that racked your body with each each bite. His stomach turned in anticipation as your reqctions spurred him on.

You gripped his neck in retaliation, trying to endure the sweet pain as the flat part of his velvety tongue laved over the bruise with precision, soothing the ache. Ominis began to suck lightly, delighted in the way you squivered beneath him.

Forget a scarf... you might as well just not go to class tomorrow with how purple your neck probably looked.

In a swift motion, he seized the back of your thighs, effortlessly lifting you up.

You wrapped your thighs around his waist instinctively as he expertly maneuvered both of you, flipping you around until you found yourself seated on the table behind him.

As you held his shoulders for support, he took the opportunity to tug your core closer to where he needed you before delving deeper, his hips skillfully rolling against your drenched panties in a breathtaking rhythm.

A broken cry left your lips as you tried to clench your legs.

"W-wait.." You sighed breathlessly at the way his dominanating gestures had you at his mercy

Gripping your jaws, he bought your face closer to his until his soft lips were just ghosting over yours.

"Are you sure? You're the one who practically begged for this. "

You shivered, breathing him in not at all used to this kind of intimidating deamenor from him.

Those cloudy eyes pierced into you with a scrutinizing glare as his bulge pressed more forcefully against your core, grinding on it over and over again until you were shaking in his arms, a string of broken cries pushing past your lips.

"Ahhh...Ominis..please"..

You weren't even sure what you were pleading for. Your mind had turned to mush, consumed by the numbing pleasure Ominis relentlessly bestowed upon you.

The young gaunt released a throaty chuckle at you incoherent words as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, absolutely adoring the way you melted under him.

"Isn't this what you were hoping for all along?" Ominis murmerd into your cheek.

Any last shred of dignity left in you was far gone at this point as you nodded hopelessly.

You felt him smile into your cheeks before laughing softly "Your such a brat."

Your mouth agape, your eyes started to flutter at the dizzying rythm Ominis set, not even registering his words properly.

The wet, sticky substance drenching your panties smeared all over your thighs and onto his trousers.

Ominis could smell you already, his dick twitching and straining from the confinment.

For a moment, his fingers explored your face. Gliding over your cheeks before feeling your soft warm lips.

Hr didnt waste a second after before he surged forward and collided with them. Both of you instantly sighing at the sensation of one another

The kiss was firm and unyielding as his lips slid across yours to get a better feel of them as the world around soon faded into a blur.

You felt so soft and inviting, Ominis could practically feel the way your magical aura vibrated in air and dance around his.

Tilting your head, you deepened the kiss, urging your head further in his direction. It was as if Ominis had been patiently waiting for that final confirmation, and with a deliberate swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip, he claimed his dominance. A gasp escaped your lips as he invaded your mouth, pushing you back, leaving you no choice but to surrender.

You fought for control for a fleeting moment but soon lost to his vigor, allowing him to take complete possession.

His fingers drew up and pulled your chin down, widening your mouth to accommodate him fully, devouring you.

With ragged breaths, he tilted to get a better angle, exploring your mouth before brushing your tongue and flicking it with his.

You gasped as he sensually sucked on the tip of your tongue, eliciting a soft whimper that escaped into his mouth, which he eagerly swallowed.

The strange dominanating sensation had you tugging his hair hard, squeezing your eyes shut

Ominis grunted, inhaling you in as his fingers felt his way down to your bare thighs, giving the plump fles a firm squeeze.

You were quickly running out of air as you desperately tried to draw breath through your nose, yet Ominis showed no sign of relenting.

You tightened your grip on his hair, desperately yearning for a breath of air as you tried to pull away A pleading moan escaped you, and with one more harsh suck Reluctantly, Ominis withdrew, a primal groan rumbling from his throat, leaving a delicate thread of saliva briefly connecting your lips before it snapped, leaving you both gasping for air.

It wasn't long before Ominis leaned in to give you one more peck as his hand felt along the table where you sat and grabbed his wand.

Ominis abruptly turned around and casted a confringo spell at the fireplace behind you, catching you off guard. It became apparent that Ominis was more acquainted with the room than you, effortlessly knowing the precise location to direct his spell.

The fireplace flickered to life, illuminating the space, painting the walls with a soft, golden hue.The crackling flames burst forth its radiant heat, spreading like a comforting embrace.

"Stand up, my love," Ominis offered you a hand as you hopped off the table curiously.

With another flick of his wand, Ominis conjured the table into a huge soft mattress, levitating the stray books here and there to the other corner of the room.

You gaped before smiling softly, facing the syltherin, a devilish smile gracing his lips "Oh..you've thought about this, didn't you? Us. Entangled in bed"?

Ominis tossed his wand to the far side of the mattress with a mischevious glint to match running his hands along your hips, "Allow me to demonstrate exactly what I had in mind."

The shirt tucked in the waist band of your skirt flew out, with his deft hands quickly unbuttoning your shirt. The fabric slipped off your shoulders as the soft pressure of his hands guided you down onto the mattress.

Ominis couldn't wait another second. He wanted to feel you. He wanted to taste you.

The pale skinned male knelt on his knees in front of your form before tracing his hands up to your thighs to your knees, pleased to feel your legs spread apart for him obediently.

You watched him crawl and settle in between your legs, feeling your heart ram against your chest violently.

His fingers traced down your collarbone over the soft mound of your breast before clicking his to tongue in dispeleasure at the article of clothing covering them.

"I want these off".

You didnt miss the command evident in his tone.

Long pale fingers traced up the strap of your bra before hooking underneath and tugging them down your chest, relasing your perked nipples from their confinment.

Quickly figuring out the mechanism, he snapped the metal clasp at the back and tossed it somewhere in the room.

Finally, he felt the soft flesh your breasts, a sigh of content escaping his lips.

They're softer then Ominis had imagined. And so smooth.

You grabbed his wrists, flinching when the palms of his hand rubbed your peaks.

Ever observant, Ominis paused before grabbing your breasts and flicking the peaks with his thumbs repeatedly, smirking at the small noises escaping your lips.

"Merlin..your so soft...promise me you'll let me sleep on them after this"

His teasing remark had you giggle shyly, struggling not to cover your face in embarrassment.

Ominis couldnt wait for your reply as his hot, warm mouth encased your nipple brushing it his tongue, rolling the senerive nub between his teeth.

"Ooh..." your head rolled back as Ominis sucked with enough pressure that had sent waves of pleasure washing over you.

He kneaded your other breast as the throaty groan vibrated on your skin.

You nearly lost it. Hands shooting up to his disheveled hair. A string of moans left your lips after your legs quickly wrapped around his midsection.

Ominis quickly unlatched before giving your other mound the same love. His hot tongue pressed flatly against the other hard nub before giving it a gentle tug with his teeth. You gasped with jolt, feeling Ominis smile onto your skin before yanking off your breast with an audible pop.

If he could, he would just be buried between your breast all day, just kissing and worshipping to his hearts desire.

The fair skinned male interrwined your fingers with his, moving down and planting sweet, soft kisses down your sterum, following to your stomach.

You blushed, realizing your skirt was nowhere near decent anymore and had ridden up to pool at your pelvis.

Your eyes only widened after feeling his fingers hook under the hem of the bunched up skirt, including you panties, which Ominis proceeded to tug off with no hesitation.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as the sweet, musky scent invaded Ominis senses.

His hands smoothed over the back of your thighs before lifting them up, your bare cunt now fully exposed.

Your hands flew to your face, feeling extremely shy even though you knew he couldn't see you.

"Ominis.."

He planted small kisses down the side of your knees, a desperatkon clinging to his actions.

"All mine" he murmered onto your skin.

"You know you belong to me now..dont you love"? The restraint Ominis had on saying his true feelings completely vanished in this moment as your breath hitched. A sincerity shining in his eyes, he gazed down in your direction. Your eyes oftened at his declaration. Somehow, you knew he was finally speaking the truth about his feelings. And his words weren't just driven by lust.

"Yes," you whispered. "Yes, I do."

With one final tender kiss, he trailed his lips along the curve of your navel with a renewed vigor, planting soft kisses down the expanse of your inner thighs.

You were literally soaking at this point. Ominis felt the juices collecting on his lips as his tongue.

"All this for me, love? I didn't even do anything yet. " The young gaunt playfully gave you quick nips, causing you to buck your hips in response.

"Didn't do anything? Who's the liar now? " You replied breathlessly.

You couldn't help but let out an embarrassed squeak as he placed a teasing kiss just above your clit.

Oh, he was going to enjoy this thoroughly. As much as you loved your delicate whimpers, Ominis needed to know how you sounded when you screamed his name drowning in the ecstacy he provided with you.

The long lashes you always envied tickled your skin before you observed the beautiful male hover over your heat.

You ran your fingers through his disheveled hair, moving them out of his face before his tongue flattened against your folds and applied pressure dragging upwards and flicking across your clit.

"Ah fuck-" !

The obsencity that flew out of your mouth ignited a primal hunger within Ominis as he savored his first taste of you.

Your head rolled back and fell to the mattress as your hand flew to grip the sheet besides your head. Your legs instantly went to clamp shut from the sentivity, but Ominis firmly held the back of your thighs with an unyielding grip, raising them higher and causing them to brush against your stomach.

Your sopping cunt was on full display and there was nothing you could do, completely at his mercy.

He dove down and repeated the action, but this time paused to close his lips around clit and suck harshly.

Your back rounded with another strangled cry as tears pricked your eyes.

Ominis slurped your juices with a deep groan before his tongue swirled around the hard pearl, flicking it over and over.

"Oh fuck Ominis"!

Your ecstatic cries reverberated through the room, filling the air as you bucked against his face, jolting with each suction of the hard nub on your core.

Ominis growled letting your thighs fall beside each side of his face before wrapping his hands around naval to keep you grounded as he continued his assault on your cunt.

Shamlessly licking and bitting alternating between you clit and folds.

Ominis let out a guttaral moan that vibrated against pussy, his grip on you stomach tightening.

Fuck you tasted good. He had imagined eating you out many times, but his fantasies couldn't hold a candle to how you actually felt.

The sounds of slurps, kisses, and groans filled the room as you felt a knot tighten harshly in your stomach, almost to the brink of being painful. You were so close, and Ominis sensed it.

He brought one of his fingers and dragged them down your folds until he found a slit.

The long appendage slid across the entrance back and forth as if to determine this was where he could push it in.

Cautiously, as to not hurt you, one finger pushed into you as you gazed down at Ominis nervously. The unfamiliar feeling didn’t hurt at with how wet you were. That is until Ominis decided to put a second finger, and that’s when you felt the sting.

You hissed arching your back, ready to ask him to take it out, but Ominis anticipated it.

His lips flew to your clit, giving another mind numbing suck causing to you contract around his fingers, effectively distracting you from the pain.

Your gummy walls felt otherworldy to him. How wondered how you would feel with dick penetrating you instead of his fingers.

Slowly, he began to pump harder, picking up speed as you helplessly writhed in hsi embrace

His other hand swiftly reached up, firmly gripping the hand on top of his head, pinning it down by your side, and intertwining your fingers.

Your hips began to stutter as his fingers began curling inside, dragging out against your walls and plunging back in before you got a chance to breathe.

Ominis groaned, his face buried onto your pussy, drowning in his own ecstacy with how tasted before feeling another gush of your lqiuids burst onto his lips as he pumped harder.

Your eyes fluttered shut as your chest heaved rapidly feeling the oncoming orgasm.

With one last snap of his fingers, white hot waves drowned your entire body as you convulsed violently against his face, mouth ajar and eyes rolling to the back of your head before shutting tightly.

Ominis had never felt so turned on in his life feeling you getting lost in the pleasure he provided.

His aching dick demanded to be taken care of as Ominis rutted into the mattress to give it some friction.

"I cant anymore..ahh-Ominis"!

He was still eating you through the orgasm as it faded after a while, and you started to whine from the sensitivity.

The young slytherin finally unlatched from your core with a smirk, licking the glistening juices dripping down his chin after giving you the most earth-shattering orgasm.

You slumped against the mattress, somehow more exhausted than him, watching him crawl over you.

"Merlin, you tasted heavenly"

You shook your head, bring his face closer to yours. "Oh my goodness Ominis...I dont think I can feel my legs".

The young gaunt laughed, giving your thighs a light smack.

"That's too bad, I was just getting started, love."

Before you could react, his hand seized your hips, forcefully flipping you over to lie on your stomach. A surprised squeak escaped your lips as you felt his strong hands pulling your hips closer, bringing the tip of his eager bulge to press against your wet core.

Ominis glided his hands over the spine of you back before his palms rounded the smooth flesh of your ass, salivating how pleasnt they felt.

"Fuck dove, how can you be so perfect".

He couldn't help but give your cheeks a sharp smack with a wicked grin, delighted with the way he felt them move, as the lust clouded bis mind.

You yelped, just knowing there was going to be a visible print back there. It seemed he was adamant about marking you in every way possible tonight.

Perhaps Sebastian was truly the innocent one in your group with the way Ominis claiming you.

Blind to the unfolding scene, your senses were heightened, feeling the scorching press of kisses trailing along your spine. One hand skillfully parted your thighs, granting more access to your heated core, while the other gently swept your hair aside, revealing your neck in all its glory.

Ominis hovered over you, his breath fanning over your ears. "Dont think you're forgiven just yet, Dove. I'll make you cum around my cock so hard you wont even be able to take a step out of this room tommrow".

His low husky words caused your breath to catch in your throat, sending a shiver down your spine. You knew, without a doubt, that he intended to fulfill that promise.

With your cheeks pressed against the mattress, you stuttered, "H-have you always been this wicked Ominis"?

His nose pressed against your cheeks as you felt the mischeivious grin on his lips.

"Only because of you, love. Dont worry, this way we can spend the day together, and I can help make you feel all better".

"Yeah? And exactly how would you help when you're, the one who caused it the first place, " you whispered back breathlessly.

Thr fingers that laid on your thigh trailed up before gliding through your slick folds, earning a deep moan from you.

"Like this"

His fingers plunged into your sex yet again as you cried into the sheets gripping it tightly.

Ominis bit your ears dragging it out with small grin before pressing soft kisses on your neck, contrasting the way he roughly fucked you with his fingers.

"That's it. Cry for me... just. Like. that".

A broken sob of pleasure rung in ears as you arched your back, tears streaming down your from the brutal pace Ominis set.

The young gaunt gritted his teeth, losing his mind with how your core sucked his fingers in, shivering at the wet squelching noises echoing through the room.

But you were still painfully tight. And as eager as he was to stuff you to the brim, the last thing he wanted was for you to be in too much pain.

A thought suddenly entered his mind before his fingers experimentally began to spread apart within your wet walls, sissoring you as gently as he could.

You grunted, gripping the sheets tightly, writhing in his hold.

"I know.. I know, just a little more love. Then I'll make you feel good"

You let out deep breath, instinctively rutting against his fingers in an attempt to accommodate

Once he felt you were okay, he pulled his fingers out, now kneeling back from your shaking form, unbuckling the belt on his trousers. You bit your lips, turning head around, watching nervously before you see a pale prick spring out of its confinment with an angry red leaking tip

Gripping your hips, Ominis lifted your rear to align with his pelvis, where his erection eagerly awaited.

A wavering sigh pushed past your lips as Ominis glided his leaking tip over your slit before finally, he gently pushed the tip in.

....Oh fuck.

The stretch was already getting to you.

Ominis grunted at the tightness, more worried about how you felt before he heard small noises of pain escape your lips.

"Breathe darling..."

Sucking in deep breaths, you allowed yourself to try and relax, reminding yourself that this is was Ominis. The person you truly loved.

After a couple of moments, the stinging subsided before you took control and pushed you hips back further, allowing him to slide deeper into you.

Ominis tightened his grip on your curve, your hips, a concentrated look, etching his face.

"Are you sure your okay"?

The worried voice had you smile before licking your lips, feeling the tinge of pleasure slowly washing over you as the outline of his erections dragged past you twitching walls.

You pushed your hips further, filled to the hilt feeling the tip touch a deep part of you that made you gasp.

"Omi..please start moving- ahh this feels s-so good".

Your heart throbbing pleads had Ominis lightly scoff, a dark grin appearing on his lips.

"Look at you...feeling brave already"?

You bit your lips, trying to suppress the cocky smile as Ominis smirked, pumping in and out slowly.

A shaky breath left his lips at the sensation of your soft wet walls sucking him in every time before he pulled away. It was unlike anything Ominis has ever felt. Now he was afraid rutting himself into his hands at the thought of you just wasn't going to cut it anymore.

You gasped, breathing heavier, feeling his dick plunge into your harder and faster. And soon you turnee into a crying mess again, feeling the tip of his dick kiss you deep. Ominis sensed it as soon as he touched it. The spongy little wall at the end thay made you flinch every time.

Licking his lips, a dark smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he began to pound deeper, your ass bouncing against his pelvis violently.

A loud whimper escaped your lips as you felt Ominis's other hand caress your backside, the touch followed by a sharp and resounding smack as he rammed into you balls deep, drowning in how delicious good you felt.

One particular snap of his thrust had you squeeze your walls around him tightly, causing the young slytherin to stutter in his thrusts with a gasp.

Your walls began to contract, and you couldn't help but tighten around him harder as Ominis groaned at the mind-numbing sensation.

Before you expected, Ominis grabbed the back of your neck, pushing you face down into the mattress, fucking into you at an angle that allowed the dick to hit your g spot.

Your voice cracked with the yelp that pushed past your lips, back arching further, allowing him better access.

Ominis head rolled back, his mouth ajar at the new postion, your head down and ass up in the air.

He kept hitting your cervix repeatedly as your eyes rolled back. Ominis may not be able to see the sweet sight of your wrecked out pussy fluttering around his cock, but just the thought it had him double over you, waves of hot pleasure racking him.

Leaning down, he encased your entire back, hovering over your trembling figure before slowing down his pace to deliberately grind into you, sensing the way you jumped slightly.

"Your doing so good love" he pressed a kiss to your temple before wrapping an arm beneath you, taking a hold of your jaw.

He lifted your face, tilting it gently to the side, granting him access to plant tender kisses on your bruised neck.

"Do you want to come darling" ? Ominis murmered.

You whine lightly, leaning into his touch "Please"...

The young Gaunt chuckled lightly amused but more so happy that you were enjoying this as much as he did.

"Very well".

The curt words hung in the air for just a second when suddenly, his hand swiped underneath to reach your gushing core before gliding over to your clit.

Simultaneously, Ominis pulled back before thrusting into you hard, rubbing your pearl viciously.

A scream tore from your throat as your white knuckles clenched the sheets tightly under you.

Ominis grunted, sensing he was close, but he was a man of his word. When he said he would make you cum hard. He meant it.

With deep, forcful thrusts, he felt the tip of your cervix again, a smirk appearing on his lips at the rediscovery.

The young slytherin attacked your clit mercilessly as he pounded into you with a strength that kncoked the air out of your lungs.

You thought you were going to pass out with the stars that began to appear at the corners of your vision, your orgasm hitting with a force you almsot couldn't take.

Your mouth ajar, the sounds stuck in your throat, you spasmed fierecly against him, letting the high take you over. The way you pulsated and clenched around his cock had Ominis falling into his own orgasm releasing spurts of his white milky seeds into you. He bit your shoulder as your contracting walls milked him for everything he had.

You groaned, feeling the hot substance fill you up before dripping out of your hole.

Both if your moans filled the room as you both experienced a high that was now burned into your memories.

Ominis had finally claimed you in every way possible.

After a fleeting pause, Ominis mustered the strength to lift himself up, the weight of exhaustion tugging at his every move. Determination fueled his actions, overpowering the weariness. With a gentle yet firm grip on your waist, he rolled you over to face him, his touch evoking a tingling sensation across your skin. As your eyes met his glistening, sweat-drenched form, you couldn't help but be captivated, a lump forming in your throat. Ominis leaned in once more, his forehead gently resting against yours.

"Thank you".

You shook your head "For what...your one the who did all the work here".

Ominis pressed a tender kiss to your forhead with a smile, "No. I meant thank you... for agreeing to be mine"

Oh...

You couldn't help but feel your heart swell at his words, staring up at him adoration. Your hands reached up to cup his jaw, warching him lean into your touch.

"I was always yours Ominis".

Your lover flashed a soft grin, leaning down to capture your lips in a deep kiss, and you eagerly reciprocated. After a few blissful moments, you both pulled away, and you noticed his arms tremble slightly, indicating fatigue and a desire not to overwhelm you with his weight.

Without a moment's hesitation, you firmly grasped the back of his neck, pulling him down towards your chest. Ominis emitted a sound of surprise at the sudden movement, now fully positioned on top of you.

"Just rest, love. Werent you the one telling me how you wanted sleep on top of me like this" you giggled.

"But-"

"No buts, you're not hurting me just just relax."

Ominis let out a soft chuckle, settling in with ease as he felt the warmth of your soft skin beneath his face. A contented sigh escaped his lips as both of you shifted to find comfort in your new positions.

You summoned one of the sheets from the surrounding area, conjuring it into a soft blanket and draping it over the two of you. The blissful aftermath of your intimacy combined with the cozy warmth of the crackling fire enveloped you, creating a sense of comforting contentment like never before in your life.

Ominis couldn't have been happier at how this evening ended, grateful that you even bought up this game to him in the first place.

He imagined in the near future, he could tell this story to his kids about how he and their mother had confessed their love for each other after playing an exciting game of chase throughout the dark castle.

Minus the rough mind blowing sex of course.

Ominis felt your fingers rake through his hair, your calm even breaths already lulling him to a sleep. As he teetered on the edge of sleep, a resolute determination welled up within him. He made a solemn vow to himself to create a future where he would wake up every day to the comforting presence of you by his side. And it was promise he intended to keep. After all, he was a man of his word.

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