#I know it's a stretch advertising on tumblr but who knows

[articulately-composed]

As of February 2025, I'm opening a private music lesson studio! I'm offering both in-person lessons for the NYC area, as well as virtual lessons!

Looking to learn piano, voice or saxophone? Want to brush up on your music theory, or have a second set of eyes look over a score you've written? Check out what I've got to offer at https://amhstudio.carrd.co!

I know music lessons can be prohibitively expensive for a lot of people, so I'm keeping prices at $50/hour (which in my experience is 2011 prices). Scheduling is flexible, and there's no need to commit to more than one lesson at a time if that's all you can spare. Money is tighter than ever for most people, but music shouldn't be something only the rich can afford.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐄𝐱𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐞. | TEASER

There's magic in everything.

Tags/Warnings: Royal Warlock!Jungkook, Maid!Cat Hybrid!Reader, Magic!AU, realistic Fantasy, sci-fi, Strangers to lovers, Fluff, Romance, Angst, mentions of war, Injury, Violence and blood, Smut

Length: ???

There is no taglist for this fic. This is a Patreon-Exclusive.

A/N: due to fantasy stories never doing very well here on tumblr, Exhale will be posted on Patreon only. I've also lost my job, so currently, Patreon is one of the only ways to make money right now. Please understand that I'm gonna advertise it more often due to that. Thank you for your understanding.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"You'll feel at home soon, Sir Jungkook." You say as you place the plate of his food in front of him, his dark eyes looking up at you.

They don't scare you. Neither does the fact that he draws his powers from.. well, not the light. He's shown by now that he still has a kind heart, even if it's a bit hidden and cluttered with other things he deems more important. "I do not need to feel welcome here." He denies, starts to eat quietly, averting his gaze from you.

"Sure, you do not." You respond, turning around to wash the other's dishes in the sink. Jungkook's eyes raise at that, focusing on the way your tail sways from side to side softly.

Your dress looks a lot more.. tailored to you, than he's used to see on maids. In fact, everyone appears to be dressed in clean, and well made clothes that still fit their status and job- but don't appear to be simply given from one to the next. Kim Seokjin knows every staff's name in fact, and does not seem to really draw a line in who he speaks to and who he does not.

Odd.

"But doesn't it feel better?" You ask, singing to yourself as you wash the plates.

Jungkook doesn't respond, simply thinks. He doesn't have to feel at home here. Once King Seokjin doesn't have any use for him any longer, he will be sent out once more. The less connections he makes here, the less he will be driven away from his path. He doesn't need friends, or a home.

He's learned that many times in his life. It'll only hurt.

"How long have you been working here?" Jungkook asks as he rips off a piece of bread to eat. You dry your hands, and sit at the table with him, stretching out your legs beneath if for a moment.

"Hm.. I was living here since Jin-.. King Seokjin was still a prince, Sir." You answer. "I was born in the nearby forest village. My mother became a maid when I was old enough to attend school." You remember.

"Explains your lack of respect for him in your tone." Jungkook says, not looking at you. You stiffen, ears pinning backwards.

"Ah- but I do have respect!" You almost whine. "It's just.. his crowning was years ago, I know. But.. on occasion, I forget the boundaries set by society." You sigh, leaning your chin on your hand. "Any other kingdom would've already had me beheaded." You giggle to yourself.

"Or at least exiled." He mumbles, biting another piece of bread.

It's good that you seem to be aware of the luxury you're experiencing inside this castle. As a mere hybrid maid, you're not much more in status than a dog- and yet, for some odd reasoning, the King himself treats you as much more, just like the other staff. The way he'd spoken to Jungkook, with such familiarity almost, had shown just how soft the King really is. He truly is in need of protection. God knows he probably has not fought a single time in his life.

Just as his food is finished, Jungkook notices your other hand that's not supporting your head. There's something on your palm he's not sure of, but the skin is clearly irritated. He motions for you to turn it over, and you do- scratches having reopened from washing the dishes earlier.

Either you're very dumb, or just very devoted to your purpose in this castle.

He's slow with his movements to give you a way to deny him- but you do not, instead even leaning forward a bit in curiosity to see what he's going to do, as he covers your hand in his own, silver rings bulky on his fingers. There's no glow, or anything really- not much is happening at all, apart from the tingling feeling underneath your skin, stinging from the cuts slowly ebbing away like it's dipped in cold water.

And when he removes his hands, your palm is covered in what looks like black soot almost.. but once you brush that off, the skin is healed- no scars remaining.

"Oh! There you guys are." Yoongi offers, walking closer into the kitchen, a hand on your shoulder as he stands behind you. "The king requests you, Jungkook. " He tells the warlock, who still feels oddly irritated by the man's lack of proper wording regarding him. "And you should clean up. It's late." He says much softer to you, and you nod.

"Look! sir Jungkook healed me!" You hold out your hand, and Yoongi clearly grows irritated, frustration clear on his face.

This is what Jungkook is used to. The anger, distaste, disgust even regarding his practices- this is what's comforting to him. He can work with that, knows that people like this man will not get unnecessarily attached to him and cause problems. He likes that-

"Yah, where'd you even get hurt again?!" Yoongi scolds you instead, however. "Be glad Jin didn't see, or he'd make you report to him daily again.. show me. Is it really healed.?" He mumbles, inspecting your hand, before he shakes his head at you, ears pinned back. "Thank you. She sometimes has the coordination of a dragon hatchling." He says towards Jungkook, and he's caught entirely off guard, eyes wide open and face clearly showing his surprise.

And you just laugh at that, happily so, before you tell him goodnight with a playful bow, running off after teasingly thanking Yoongi for washing Jungkook's dishes.

Which, yet again irritatingly enough, Yoongi indeed does do for you.

This castle is weird.

But fitting for its king, he thinks.

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Caution

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 1655

Summary: You and Bucky were online shopping and stumbled upon funny underwear. Without the other knowing you each purchase a pair. How will you each react to the silliness?

Warnings: Fluff, silliness, (s)mut, (o)ral (F & M), Daddy (K)ink

A/N: This is just a silly fic I wrote do to the photo above that Amazon advertised on my FB page lol.

A/N 2: Thank you to my beta readers @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @pigwidgeonxo​

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. Even if you leave an emoji you will make my day. 😊💜  

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

You were on the couch surfing around Amazon when you found something that caught your eye. You lightly chuckled to yourself but Bucky who was on his laptop stopped working.

“What are you laughing at pretty girl?” Bucky's voice was deep and had a hint of amusement behind it.

“Oh nothing, just found something amusing online.” You clicked “buy now” and thanks to Prime it was going to arrive the next day. “What are you up to? Almost done with work?”

Bucky’s face heated up in what looked to be embarrassment as he did a couple of clicks and slammed his laptop closed. “Oh yeah, I’m all done now.”

“Care to share what made you all red? Looking at something sexy?”

“On the computer? Don’t be like that, I have exactly what I want. She is sexy, smart, funny, beautiful, and all mine.”

Bucky got up from the table and slowly stalked over to you. You set your laptop on the coffee table as he dropped onto the couch caging you in.

“Let’s say we take this in the bedroom and I show you how sexy you are.” Bucky huskily spoke in your ear before sitting up and pulling you with him. He tossed you over his shoulder and carried you to bed.

The next day you checked the mail and noticed two packages, one addressed to you and the other to Bucky. You opened yours and took a look at the pair of panties you bought. You chuckled to yourself as you made your way to wash and dry them.

Later when they were cleaned and dried Bucky came home. You saw him take his package and disappeared. After a few minutes, you heard the washer going. He must have bought a shirt you thought to yourself. As you go about your evening cooking for the both of you Bucky scurries past you with an article of clothing. You couldn’t see what he was carrying but you didn’t think much of it. 

After dinner, you and Bucky relaxed on the couch watching tv until bedtime. You yawned and stretched looking up at Bucky. “I’m going to get ready for bed.”

“Sounds good sweetheart I will be right behind you.” Bucky smiled at you as you headed towards the bedroom. Once you reached the bedroom you quickly went to your dresser and pulled out the panties. Then you went to Bucky’s closet and pulled out one of his henleys. This was going to be perfect.

Heading to the bathroom you did your nightly routine of getting ready for bed. You caught a glimpse of Bucky grabbing boxer briefs from his dresser. He went to get changed as you were finishing up. When you were done you seductively walked out to see Bucky shirtless and under the covers. As you reached the end of the bed you crawled up the bed to him, swaying your hips while he bit his lip looking at you. You crawled up his body and sat on his hips. 

“God sweetheart, you look good enough to eat. But first I want my henley off you.” He slowly slid the shirt up your body and pulled it off of you leaving you only in your panties. His eyes took in your half-naked form and as his eyes scanned over you they landed on the panties. “Caution slippery when wet?” That had Bucky laughing hard. You joined him in laughing together.

“What, you don’t like my new panties?” You say in between giggles, your eyebrows wiggled as he continued to laugh.

“No, it’s not that doll. It’s just that… climb off my lap for a minute.” You crawled off and sat next to him. Bucky pulled down the covers and your eyes went wide. You started to laugh hysterically as you saw his boxer briefs that read “caution choking hazard.” 

You fell to the bed laughing knowing you each bought the same product. The odds of buying the same thing were astronomical. Both your laughter started to calm down as you rolled over to your side to look at him.

“We really are meant to be together,” you say while smiling at him.

“That we are sweetheart. So do I get to see if your caution sign is real? You wet for me?” Bucky’s voice dropped an octave and you swore you grew wet instantly for him. 

You shook your head no. “I want to see if what you have underneath is a choking hazard first.” Your hand caressed the bulge that the boxer briefs were hiding. Sitting up, you pulled the boxer briefs off Bucky and threw them onto the floor. Your eyes took in the size of his cock and your mouth watered. You lean down and lick the tip of his cock causing him to shudder. Your eyes lock with his blue ones as you slowly take him in your mouth. What your mouth couldn’t finish taking your hand wrapped around him to stroke his length. Up and down you sucked him down. Every now and then taking more of him in until he reaches your throat. The first time he hits your throat you gag around him, tears filling your eyes, and that pulls a groan from Bucky. You relax your throat the best you can as you go up and down on him. Bucky fists his hands in your hair as you continue to bob your head as his cock works down your throat. Your eyes are tearing up the more you choke around him. You cupped his sack and started to fondle them as you swirled your tongue around him. This made Bucky let out a moan. Up and down, faster and faster you go until finally Bucky cums with a shout of your name. He tenses up as rope after rope of cum goes down your throat. You make sure you get every last drop and swallow. 

“Fuck sweetheart that was amazing.” Bucky looks down at you and sees your teary eyes and he swears you’re beautiful just the way you look. “Now let me see if it's really slippery while wet between those thighs. Bucky lays you down on the bed and makes his way between your legs. He rubs your panties and smiles up at you. “You’re soaked doll. I’m going in for a closer inspection. Pulling your panties down your legs he throws the pair on the floor with his boxer briefs. 

Bucky puts both your legs over his shoulders so you are wide open for him. Leaning down he does his first lap of your wetness. When you groan he parts your lips and does it again. His tongue feels amazing as he starts to eat you like a man starved. His beard is starting to get wet the more he dives back in and takes you apart. You start panting out his name as his fingers replace his tongue and his mouth finds your clit. Your back lightly arches as his two fingers fuck you in earnest. Your silky walls keep pulling his fingers back inside you as your breaths start picking up. 

He knows you are close and he is patiently waiting for you to crest that mountain. His mouth latches on to your clit and he sucks it, his tongue flicking it every other time. Finally, he gives you what you want and rubs against your sweet spot deep inside you. In moments you are crying out his name as you cum for him. His mouth continues to eat you out until you are pulling on his hair as your hips stop rocking against him. Bucky pulls away gently, kneeling between your legs and you see his beard is completely soaked. 

He is licking his lips as he flips you over onto your stomach and pulls your hips up. “Someone completely soaked my beard and god do I love it.” In one fluid motion, Bucky was sinking deep inside your core. He sets a firm, deep pace as he wants to pull the most noises out of you that drive him wild. Every thrust in and out has you begging for more.

“Bu-Bucky…Harder, please!” Your fingers hold onto the sheets underneath you as Bucky starts to plow harder into you.

“Is this what my doll wants? Daddy deep inside her pussy? Want me to fuck you stupid?” He asks in that deep voice you love so much.

“Yes! Please, Daddy. I need it, I need you!”

Bucky obliges, going deeper and harder. Skin slapping against skin fills the air and takes you apart. Your whines and moans are music to his ears as he fucks you with earnest. Every time your pussy tightens around his cock Bucky lets out a growl. Your whines keep getting louder and louder until finally, you’re cumming around his cock. A few more hard strokes and Bucky is right behind you cumming deep inside you. After a few lazy thrusts, he pulls out of you and both of you collapse on the bed.

“Buying those panties was one of your best ideas sweetheart,” Bucky says as he kisses your shoulder. 

Catching your breath you smile at him. “Those boxer briefs were perfect. We need to do this again sometime.” Bucky nods his head as he gets out of bed to grab a washcloth for you to clean with. Once you've cleaned up you crawl under the covers with Bucky right behind you. He spoons you from behind and kisses your neck.

“Good night sweetheart,” he breathes against your neck.

“Goodnight Buck,” you whisper before you fall asleep.

Tags:

@americasass81

@b3autyfuldisast3r

@caffiend-queen​

@charmed-asylum

@denisemarieangelina

@fictional-affairs

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@get0verit

@hollybee8917

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@jvanilly

@labella420

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@wolfsmom1

@what-is-your-plan-today

@writercole

@missvelvetsstuff

@jtargaryen18

@caplanbuckybarnes

[prismaticpichu]

Heya folks!! Hope y’all are having a lovely day!!!

A while ago I ended up making a ZackSeph community here on Tumblr- buuuuttt in true Pichu fashion, I completely neglected any sort of advertising xD Oops. Anywho, here is the invite link for anyone who would like to join!! Anyone and everyone is welcome!! My goal is to build a safe, comforting, supportive, and (most impotently!) chaotic community where we can all scream about the duo that’s been dominating my brain space for years xD Let’s have some fun!!! 💖

~

Notes!!

• This is a SFW space!! I would really appreciate if y’all respected that ❤️ (and, ofc, be sure to filter tags/posts in a way you’re most comfortable with!)

• You do not have to be obsessed with these two like I am to join, don’t worry! xD (I mean… if you do become obsessed, then- >:3c). Any degree of interest in these dorks is welcome!!

• On that note!~ this is is a space that focuses on both ZS’s platonic and romantic relationship!!! (Or what I like to call a Teal zone.) Plz respect each other’s preferences and post/interact with what y’all are most comfortable!!

• Annnd on THAT note!~ this is a safe haven! We are here to support each other, encourage each other’s works, respect each other’s tastes, and overall goof around like a bunch of goobers! Just have common courtesy (such as not critiquing works unless criticism is specifically asked). Try to keep the content mainnnnlyyy ZS if y’all can, but that by no stretch means that other characters aren’t allowed to hang with them!! <3

• And, lastly, if y’all would like any changes/have suggestions for the community, absolutely feel free to let me or the mods know! My goal is to create the most comfortable space for all- to the best of my abilities!!

Enjoy the chaos!! <3

[etirabys]

I've been absent from tumblr for nine days because I was in Philly for a 800 person twitter con (whose constituents roughly map onto the rationalist tumblr diaspora, culturally). I was tweeting up a storm in conjunction with meeting twitter people irl and barely checked tumblr.

The con itself stretched over a long weekend, but I arrived four days early for preparties and stayed two days for postparties. I am on the plane right now, returning home. I got about twelve weeks of normal socializing in nine days. In the last four days I was taking small amounts of Ritalin to get through the day. That sounds bad, but that's how much I valued talking to weird internet people and having unique interactions that you cannot have outside of festivals.

The last iteration of this con last year had 300 attendees. At the time, I had 180 twitter followers, mostly from the times tumblr melted down and everyone including me advertised where they were elsewhere, as insurance. I munchkinned the hell out of socializing at the first con, got an additional 100 active followers that provided enough attention for a self-sustaining poasting reaction, and am at 2500 now.

I'm approximately the same person on twitter that I am on tumblr, except I don't post my erotica (my twitter followers skew more heavily male, so I'm less willing to be sexual) and I'm more strategic about seeking clout. I like to think I stay away from the clout-chasing things I find really gross (like having takes about politics nonstop, or starting beef), but I currently treat getting twitter followers as an enjoyable game.

It's nice to have a place where I'm explicitly seeking power, as it is nice to have a place (here on tumblr) where I'm explicitly not. My tentative plan is to hit 10-20K and then push the "trying" lever to off. I know a number of "microcelebrities" who get no stalkers or murder threats, but can go to just about any major city and have a place to crash, or people to show them around. That is what I want for myself.

I explain this not very flattering thing as context for what the con was like for me.

Most of the time, I exist socially the way most people do – avoiding risks and being discreet with dissent to keep the peace. I think people go to events like this one or Burning Man to get a freaking break from having to do this – as long as the con is full of reasonably mature and interesting people, the atmosphere becomes wonderful when they coordinate to drop the pretense for a week. I ran into a person who had a bad interaction with my acquaintance a few years ago, and told him I thought poorly of his actions but wanted to hear his side of the story. (The ensuing interaction was illuminating and pleasant.) A guy came up to me and observed that he'd made several conversational bids this year and last year, I had seemed to dislike this every time, and asked if I would prefer he never approach me again. We proceeded to have an extremely autistic debugging conversation, in front of several of his friends, about whether we should speak again in the future. (The solution: yes, he can try again, but pick a question from Askhole – don't inflict small talk on me.) I ran up to Famously Evil-Alien-Vibes-Having Economist Robin Hanson and said, "I have nothing to say to you in particular, but I find you interesting and I want to hang out," and then we argued for an hour about the fertility crisis. After asking for blessing to say something negative, I told a blogger whose blog post that I'd otherwise really liked that there had been one aspect that I found disingenuous. We had a good back and forth after I said this.

What I found so addictive about this con is that my popularity-seeking drive and my honesty-seeking drive – both of which I somewhat repress most of the time – were not only expressible, but in harmony. It is quite inappropriate to be super open and openly autistic in most social contexts. Here, I could say exactly what I meant, and as long as I delivered it in the right way, people would like me for it. The conversation where the guy started with "You don't seem to like me, should I never talk to you again?" should by most predictive measures have been awkward and unpleasant – but I got the sense, steadily, that he (and his friend who eventually joined in) liked me for how I was responding to him. All I had to do was, literally, just say what I really thought, and it somehow all worked out.

[tjalexandernyc]

I can't really talk about this to the two closest people in my life, so I'm going to tell tumblr instead.

I made a bet with my wife and best friend. There's a new apartment building going up in my neighborhood, one of many. (Gentrification.) Some of these buildings are touting themselves as "luxury" buildings with amenities like *checks notes* a view of trees. What I mean is, even the nicest, most expensive of these new places can only promise so much. And the one that's going up on the corner by me is advertising itself with a banner that says something like "a location like this is the only amenity you need."

Which, to me, means "it's a 5-minute walk to the subway, fuck you, that's all you're getting."

My wife is adamant that this building will have (chokes down a laugh) a staffed lobby. Not a doorman per se but someone physically inside the lobby to sign for packages, etc., at least during business hours. I said that's never going to happen. No way, not in this economy. Not on this corner. (Our neighborhood is, like I said, rapidly gentrifying but it's not considered fancy by any stretch. Beyonce and Taylor Swift are not moving in, okay?)

She bet me $20 that it would. I took that bet. Then I told my BFF about the bet and HE said he wanted to get in on the action, but he was betting that the building would have (smothers a giggle) an AI concierge of some kind. I was like, are you sure, bud. That's....so specific. You're saying this building will SPECIFICALLY have an iPad or similar in the lobby with an AI "helper" to...what? Sign for packages??

Yes, he said. That is specifically what he was betting on. IN THIS ECONOMY.

Y'all, this is the easiest $40 I'll ever make. I just walked by this fucking place today. Construction is wrapping up and the building is pretty much complete. The lobby has NO little desk for a physical person to sit at and NO iPad. What they do have is a digital buzzer panel outside the front door, just like every other building on the block. No doorman, real or not real.

I WAS RIGHT AND THEY WERE WRONG BUT NO ONE ELSE HAS THOUGHT TO WALK BY THIS PLACE YET SO I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS. The bet gets collected in early October and I am so excited to spend $40 on a bottle of gin that my two favorite people hate so I can have it aaaaaaaaaaall to myself lmao

[chipped-chimera]

If there was one thing you could change about Tumblr, what would it be?

(taken from my answer to the Tumblr use survey)

I know it'd be impossible to do, but reinstating NSFW content availability. Before the ban, Tumblr had something that hasn't been seen again since. It's been written about in multiple media outlets. It's probably already known but Tumblr's user base skews largely female, neurodivergent and/or queer. Since it started it's been a bit of a shelter for minorities. Back when NSFW was allowed, this fostered a safe environment for sexual expression away from the mainstream, male dominated/male gaze version we're blasted with every day.

This produced something I've never seen since and have been searching for, unable to find it. It's hard to put into words. As someone female and a lesbian, most often I am used to seeing women and my sexuality objectified for the pleasure of men. Every time I try to find a representation of myself in sexual expression - which I should not feel shamed for as it is another facet of the healthy human experience - I am hit with these images of highly sexually objectified women, staring into the barrels of cameras as if appealing to the viewer. It is all for show and I'm not the target audience. I see lesbian characters from media I love being fucked by men. I see female characters being fucked by men, staring blankly at the viewer with a dead expression. They are not enjoying the experience and that is being shoved right in my face. And it was done with INTENT. It's saying to me: look at this character. You may like her. You may admire her. But we've reduced her to a sexual object for men, and she is not even happy about it - and we enjoy that as men. I am a woman, and I am not sexually celebrated. I am a sexual object. Even though I don't want anything to do with men. This is constantly shoved in my face.

I refer to Tumblr pre-nsfw ban as the 'golden age' Tumblr when I talk about it. Due to the demographics being largely outside men, it meant the content was being made FOR us BY us. This resulted in sexual expressions I've not seen anywhere since - proud expressions of all different kinds of bodies outside the very narrow 'norm' or male target audience. Hairy women. Butch women. Women proudly showing off cellulite and stretch marks, looking to the viewer with JOY! Queer made artwork showing off these diverse, natural! bodies, characters gazing at each other with intimacy, not at the viewer. It was about love. It was always about love for us I think. Love and joy. It oozed out of everything we made, finally able to have somewhere to express it. It was different, it didn't have mass appeal but it was gentle and passionate. It was a celebration of what we were. Not objectification for mass appeal.

When the NSFW ban happened, we lost a lot of those creators, who migrated to Twitter which diluted them in a sea of more mainstream content. But now with its evolution to X it is unlikely these queer creators are there either. We have no home. No outlet for expression in all our human facets. We're limited to what is 'palatable' for the masses and advertising agencies. Yet every day it's more acceptable to see women being highly objectified in film and mainstream media. In any of the NSFW content that is available. Queer relationships outside the mass appeal to men are completely invisible.

We had something special back then, and we didn't realise the importance and value of it until it was gone. And whether Tumblr is able to bring that back or not, it's likely I'll be searching for that home online, where I feel I can express myself in all of my human facets, without censorship or shame, with complete joy of being until the day I die.

[joyce-stick]

Audrey's Best Girls Winter 2023

Video of recommendations of girls (And media) which halfway through turned into a Bocchi the Rock video essay.

Transcript under the cut.

Previous video essay/transcript: Adachi and Shimamura's Second Season

If you're on desktop, you may find this more comfy to read directly on our Tumblr site.

If you enjoy this essay, please consider following us here or on any other platforms, and/or donating to support future works via our Patreon or Ko-fi.

Patreon • Ko-fi • YouTube • Twitter • Cohost • Tumblr • Mastodon

Hello everyone, it’s Audrey. So, it’s been some time, I was writing a script about problematic things, and then Joyce came along and started a separate script about things we had to recommend. I finished that script, and the end result of this process was a great incoherent mess, so I’m taking it from the top.

First thing we have to talk about today is Moonshine!~

Moonshine is a doujin visual novel produced by the now seemingly dissolved doujin circle Sakura Mint, whose origins I don’t have the resources nor Japanese language knowledge to trace any information about. It was released in 2007, and then translated to English in 2008, and, quite frankly, the fact that a freely available English translation exists for easy online downloading is a goddamn miracle. It’s really short, like, about an hour, or two if you’re slow like we are. Nonetheless, this VN made us cry like a little baby child. The reason for that being, it’s about a trans girl. And the other reason for that being, it’s about a trans girl falling in love with a gender ambiguous main protagonist who is, well, gosh, really.

This is a really raw and emotionally powerful little story with a really strong theme of how to move on with your life. From a life where you didn’t belong or weren’t loved, or from a life that you love but that can’t follow you, and how either can be equally painful, how change is always painful, even if it truly is for the better, and it’s just a whole lot of feelings. A story that made us cry this much needs to be read. The English version is available freely, it’s only a bit of time, and it’s very well worth it. You might need to fuck around with your graphics settings to get it to display in proper 4 by 3 if you want to play it in fullscreen without it stretching to 16 by 9, but still, very very worth it. Probably one of the best pieces of queer fiction that we’ve ever read, and the fact that it got translated the year after its release is incredible.

It also has a sequel, called Tsugi no Terasu, which is probably not called “Sunshine” in English because that’s not what the kanji means. This sequel never got any sort of digital release either officially or otherwise and it looks as if the doujin group that made it has long disbanded given that the web domain name they used to occupy is now populated by casino advertisements, sooo all their work is probably just kind of, gone, unfortunately. As is often the case when independently produced niche media exists and no one is doing any work to preserve it. These things just sort of go and vanish.

Unless it hasn’t vanished, and someone does care! Like, I dunno, the girl reading this. I dunno about y’all, but I’d prefer that this thirteen year old VN that’s a sequel to a sixteen year old VN about a trans girl gets to be read, by someone, and hopefully continue to exist, and not evaporate into the mists of time. Sure, we can’t read it, but, details details. We’ll learn! How to read. I hope.

So I found a copy of Tsugi no Terasu for sale on akibaoo. Presumably this copy’s used, and there’s no guarantee it’ll work with our computer, or that it won’t be scratched to hell, but hey, you have to take some chances sometime in life. So, I bought it, with a portion of our, uh, meager, monthly Patreon earnings, so that we can collect it and take some form of action to preserve it in some form. Because this is what we’re supposed to do. I know we don’t have that much money, I know we’re probably going to have to eat a lot of rice for another month, but, what the hell, are we doing this youtube shit for, if not this shit? And I for one, am tired of watching hazel do all the awesome Japanese media preservation actions. I would like to have some of that glory! Somehow.

And that’s the thing.

So if you’d like to support the thing, that is to say, acquiring and assessing niche subcultural Japanese media so that we can talk about it and maybe help make it accessible to other people, and making video essays about these exploits and our emotional discoveries from them, or whatever else we do, which all apparently comes ahead of eating a proper diet because we’re insane�� then please, please, donate money to us via Ko-fi, Patreon, or whatever. You will be rewarded in some way, I assure you, unless you don’t feel rewarded, and then you won’t.

So here, I’m gonna tell y’all about other interesting content that we’ve had a look at.

2,

Witch from mercury!

Okay so I had a whole thing written about this show. And then I had a whole other thing. And then Joyce simplified that other thing to its base components. And I don’t feel like summarizing what she said about what I said. But really I just think you should look at the tweet I wrote. Which says,

“So basically this is the story of what'd happen if us talking to girls in our discord chats but we had mechas and were all caught in the middle of corporate/government space politics-wars-ing

“I’m sorry”

And also,

Suletta didn’t do anything wrong.

I’ve thought about this quite a long time, and others have kind of said it more succinctly, but I think that Suletta made, not the best decision, but a reasonable decision in this circumstance, to protect her fiancee from the guy pointing a gun at her.

I think the appropriate thing to do then would have been to emerge from Aerial apologizing profusely for the traumatic experience that Miorine just had of watching a dude get killed, instead of what she did do. That would have been the human thing to do. But Suletta didn’t act like a human in this situation because her mom told her that this behavior was a show of emotional strength. And that’s what’s happened here. And that’s interesting, because it plays really well into the story, I think, in showing that the shonen protagonist pluckiness that Suletta was trying to approach her circumstances with, doesn’t really work all of the time! Suletta, the main protagonist of this series, acted the most protagonist like that she’d ever acted in this scene, and it was the most out of character she’d ever acted, and like, gosh, I’m looking forward to seeing how they follow up on this. That’s really what I have to say about that.

Oh and also the show was good.

So yeah, that helped.

3,

How Do We Relationship?

Which I’m going to refer to as Tsukiage, a shortened form of its Japanese title, from here on out.

Tsukiage is a story about lesbians.

And yes, yes, I know, there’s many stories “about lesbians” that I’ve told you about before. No. This isn’t like those. Tsukiage is About Lesbians. Tsukiage is about the experience of being a lesbian in This World, with all its gross bigotry problems. Tsukiage is about the experience of being in a group of heterosexual women and being asked what guys you like, and being unable to answer. Tsukiage is about the experience of being someone you know your parents would hate. Tsukiage is about the experience of being a teenager with no adults to trust in your life, but also about being an adult uncertain if you can trust the other adults in your life, and about the ennui of living isolated in a place you’ll probably never find your way out of, and about,

Tsukiage is about two twenty something lesbians who date each other because they’re the only lesbians they know and they have no idea what else to do, and who are really good at having a lot of sex with each other but are also really bad at dating and even worse at dating on the days when they're really bad at having sex with each other. And they're also both young and both had traumatic high school romance failures because, being a high school student is plenty traumatic in its own ways, and those wounds are still fresh to both of them even if they want to pretend they aren't, and it's bound to follow them still in this town they've lived their whole life in, and it's just a lot of spicy drama about that! I’ve been only three volumes in so far, and Miwa and Saeko are the first main pairing of a yuri manga we've seen to whom I’ve kind of ended up saying “nope”. I don’t get the sense that these two are made for each other in the same sense we got reading Adashima or Yagakimi or Sasakoi. They argue, they bicker, they feel jealous about each other, and about, maybe, 2 thirds of the way through the second volume, I realized I was reading a breakup narrative.

I mean, look at the back covers of the first four volumes. They telegraph it visually!

But also that makes this manga even more compelling for what it’s going for, because, um, conflict is good! And two people not made for each other is damn well better! Just yes, please do try to eventually get these two back together and sell me on this horrible relationship sorting itself. Or don’t, that’s also fine! I’ve not actually got to the chapter where they broke up, because, gosh, and tough, but yeah. And also this is probably the first manga I’ve read that actually shows how school can be traumatic, when it presents a supporting character who was deemed “gifted” in high school but ultimately wasn’t as good as their sibling and then was extremely othered by her family, and just is, generally, awfully maladjusted to, reality, because of the sheltered and overstructured way in which they lived being forced to rank as high as possible on exams, and like, shit! Like, I know Japanese high school is brutal, and it’s a plot point in a lot of anime and all, but this is the one time I can recall offhand when it was actually something that impacted the story and characters outside of a relatively contained studying arc, and it’s probably some of the realest fucking shit I’ve ever read.

Oh, also, um, Tsukiage is really damn funny. Like, the early volumes had me laughing involuntarily so much that I was seriously concerned about attracting noise complaints from others in our living space, or, around, generally? It’s a really good story, the art and faces are really good, the humor is really good and that's pretty damn essential, I think, for a story that deals in such heavy topics. The whole thing is good, so, yeah, read it!

4,

Bad End Theater!

So yeah, I already used this game as b-roll in the Adashima video, so if you watched that, you probably already know that we liked this. And we do. It’s quite good. This game starts with, as Joyce said, *ruffles papers* “an unawakened lesbian is eaten by a demon… and in the next part of the game, the lesbian meets a demon lesbian who wants to eat her in the other way… and in the later part of the game, a reply guy apologizes for replying with violence… or actually replies with violence.”

So anyway this game took us a couple hours to 100% all its Steam achievements. Very short game, very good game, nice little queer vignette about the tragedy of people from different social backgrounds not understanding each other, and then understanding each other, one hopes. It’s not free, but it’s quite good, and easily recommendable! So yeah.

5, Spark the Electric Jester 3!

It’s a Sonic game. It’s basically a Sonic game. It’s much like the earlier game, Spark the Electric Jester 2, which is much like the earlier games Sonic Adventure 2 and Shadow the Hedgehog, the video about which we were going to make is apparently not coming out until it does, because we keep getting distracted by pointless bullshit. The developer of this series is a former developer of Sonic fangames and started with the 2D Spark the Electric Jester 1, which we could not finish because we suck at 2D platformers.

One really interesting thing about this game is how it treats the lives system. Yes, it has one, but only for the final level. I find this super super interesting, because while we were playing the Sonic Adventure titles with a friend of ours, we kinda generally came into the agreement that the lives system of all these games was a mistake. And Sonic Team seems to have agreed, because they, uh, removed it, from Sonic Forces onwards. But Spark 3 puts it back deliberately, only for the final level, and the final level is basically designed to make you lose lives. Not through difficulty, exactly, because while it is difficult, it’s not insurmountable, once you know the lay of the land- but rather, through compounding difficulty by length. Utopia Shelter doesn’t feel exactly like a level, it feels like a whole city. It feels like, I suppose, if at the end of Sonic 06, the whole of Soleanna became a level from which Sonic had to escape- oh, well, I guess that sort of did happen, huh. Sorry, just um…

Sonic 06 is cool? I’m very sorry to say so. It’s a horrible mess, but it also is cool.

Anyway, Spark 3’s acknowledgement of lives as a part of the Sonic Adventure experience feels like, kind of great? Like it doesn’t just go, “oh this part annoyed people, let’s throw it away” it says, no, dying in Final Chase repeatedly and falling out to the main menu is part of this kind of game, let’s just, give the player a chance to experience that, at least once. Let's make this a part of the game, but make it better, by making the level earn it, both by being an awesome level whose difficulty feels contextually justified, and also by being in a game with phenomenal 3D controls and platforming and movement physics where the appeal of such a difficulty modifier isn't spoiled by deaths that don't feel like your fault  And it’s done in a way that feels accessible, with the option of going back and just, playing more of the game more, if you feel like you need more lives to endure the stage, but odds are if you’ve done all the optional stages you don’t need that many. I got to the end of Utopia Shelter on my second try, with lives to spare.

And yeah, so, anyway. Spark 3. It’s a really good game. It’s got pretty great level design and a great sense of visual style, really good music, good movement except for those damn cars that glitch and start going sideways all the time… I started just doing the car stages on foot because I couldn’t be bothered. But other than those, great game!

And finally;

Bocchi the Rock!

Okay, so I’m not sure what about Bocchi I can say that isn’t already said by other people but y’know what, fuck it, Molly’s convinced me, I’m gonna tell the weird age gap crush story.

So, when we were like, 16, 17, thereabouts, we were presumed a cis boy, and about six entire feet tall, and because of this, non-attentive viewers would often mistake us for a college-age dude. This factor, alongside the color of our skin and the general, uh, emotional neglect, of our parents, lent itself to our delinquencies, i.e., doing basically whatever the fuck we wanted at the expense of getting verbally and/or physically harassed by our parents who weren’t happy with us doing whatever the fuck we wanted but were slowly giving up after whatever point at which they stopped paying for the therapy that didn’t fix this brain immediately. So it was one night, while we were out of the house, as we usually were, talking to people at a charity event for the community org we volunteered for back then, that we saw her.

That woman who played guitar. Who was, back then, about the age we are right now. Maybe a little bit older.

Don’t think I need to describe her elsewise, really!

We had played guitar, too, once, for several years even. But I think we’d given up on music, like, the year before, after our mom harassing us to practice the “right” way made it not fun for us anymore. Seeing that beautiful, talented, very nice, woman almost made us want to try again. Although, we didn’t, because our mom didn’t want us to ever touch an instrument again unless we were truly serious about trying to make money with it, because those lessons are expensive, and I guess that’s one of the many ways we disappointed her, by ostensibly wasting her money.

But anyway, this woman. She was nice. That’s most of what we remember about her. She was a nice, cool, and to our eyes then, pretty, older woman who felt easy to talk to, and seemed to empathize with our anxieties, as, little of them as we felt comfortable telling, and, we were awkward around here and didn’t say much other than to compliment here and to talk about Edgar Wright’s movies, but like, y’know, she was good. She was good. Remembering how she smiled and how she looked at us like… well, probably the same as she smiled and looked at everyone, but still, it seemed like she liked us, or liked having us around. Although, now, being a performing person, we understand it’s kind of in your best interest to smile at everyone who comes to see a show. But. Yeah.

And we knew we never had a chance with this nice older woman, and that our crush on her was inappropriate, but, still… we still thought about this nice, talented, tall, pretty, interesting woman, and how much we wished we could be closer with her, but alas, and curses, age gaps, strike something again. Our heart, most likely, but maybe something else too.

And you know where this is going, don’t you.

Yeah.

[Kikuri Hiroi, a clip]

Kikuri is far, far more unhinged than that woman. The woman we knew was, uh, hinged, enough, to not drink around the absurdly tall and cute 17 year old that kept coming to her gigs for unknown reasons. Kikuri meanwhile is hardly ever seen without a can of sake nearby. And she’s also a bit more, y’know, open, with Hitori-chan, whose face around Kikuri is constantly a mixture of mild terror and grand astonishment. And, yes, Seika and Kikuri, is definitely, the more appropriate ship, and the one more likely to happen in the actual story, if any explicit lesbianism did happen, which I don't expect it to, but Hitori and Kikuri, in my opinion, is much more compelling, precisely because of how inappropriate it is. There’s just something particularly compelling to us, anyway, in the thought of our dead-in-the-water teenage crush, or something adjacent to it, actually going, someplace. It’s true that had we acted on it in real life, assuming we weren’t just rejected and told to abscond permanently, it’d almost certainly have gone extremely badly, for all the reasons it’d have done that, but, y’know, fiction is meant for exploring those culturally taboo fantasies of these sorts without necessarily needing to consider those unsafe and undesirable consequences. Although… you can, cause that’s conducive to drama.

So anyway, as far as, the actual show, goes, I dunno, I think it’s all pretty clear in this moment. This entire surreal bit with the psychedelic rock concert, where Hitori sees Kuroi reach out to her in this imagined intimate moment and whisk her away through this weird and new aspect of music and life experience that she’s not felt before, and it’s just like… Yeah! Yeah, that’s how it felt to us back then, watching that nice older girl on that stage. It was really kind of nostalgic actually. So, there’s one layer of the appeal of Kikuri’s inclusion in the show, Hitori’s feelings for Kikuri as someone who is a mentor figure and has things to teach her. You could say the thing Kikuri has to teach is music, or, something else, and though Hitori isn't eloquent or brave enough to articulate whatever her crazy teenage feelings are, it's clear she… has some! Which are ambiguous enough that they could be interpreted as just her wanting to be like Kikuri, which was also an aspect of our teenage emotions about our cool guitar woman, or that Kikuri playing in front of her triggered a spicy homosexual awakening! Not wrong either way. Though I think it's both.

And the other layer of the appeal is just… well, Kikuri herself. And our adoration of and relation to Kikuri as not just a stand-in for our teenage age gap crush, but also as a character in our age range who is relatable to us as a young adult who feels similarly to her about life!

I don’t think I need to explain that one, but I will anyway.

Kikuri is an alcoholic.

At some point after we turned 21, when it wasn’t us, but Joyce, Joyce discovered alcohol, during one of the low points in our life when we were unstably housed, and gradually started to rely on it a fair bit more than she should have. For a good year or two there, Joyce was drinking off our ass about once a month, sometimes twice, and y’know, just sort of thinking, who cares. If I die, if I lose, if I go out. Who cares. cause I’m not going to! We only really stopped drinking as much as we did because it started costing money and we started finding ostensibly better ways to hurt ourselves, like buying the disc of an ancient Japanese-only doujin game and telling ourselves it’s media preservation. I don’t think we were ever as much of an addict as Kikuri but, just, watching Kikuri, and watching her ruin her life in, basically the same sort of a way, is extremely relatable and gross and eugh

And the whole gosh contrast of THIS WOMAN being Hitori’s mentor figure who she takes her cues from and then embarrasses herself trying to do it

Is just incredible and perfect and gosh

Both these lovely women are both ruining themselves trying to be cool and likable and awesome, and… SUCCEEDING, because, the… the people LIKE the women, ruining themselves! and it’s beautiful.

I’m sorry, it’s beautiful.

Anyway Bocchi good. Bocchi good.

We've been reading the manga of Bocchi since writing that bit, and I think the Bocchi manga is just, for one thing, somewhat inherently let down by not being an anime and not having songs play in it, but, it's got more humor, at least one more crazy adult, and it's got more happening in it, as there is in every manga, and I really like it.

[I had to transcribe this part because I ad-libbed it. - Audrey]

I also like how it goes about, y’know, putting forth the, general, thesis or idea that, you know um, quote, “Rock Touches People’s hearts, because it’s coming from a loser, but you can’t call it rock if it’s from a successful person” Because that’s a- that’s a statement to make. That’s a statement that I’m kind of into. because we’re very not successful and uh. Seeing characters like Kikuri, and Bocchi, and y’know, and her, underground band, and uh, characters like Aiko, and her… Shady Underground Journalism, and the fact that the manga presents all of them, all of these very unsuccessful women, as cool, because they are cool, and that’s, real, rock!

*giggling lightly* uhhhh ahaha and you know but also *mutters sheepishly* please donate to our patreon- *laughs*

And one thing that I’m, one thing that I, one other thing that I really like about the manga is that it, it focuses so much, it’s like- it’s not so school-centric as a lot of other manga about y’know, music teenagers, tend to be, like- They’re not the light music club! They’re- they’re, a real underground band and you know that’s…

That’s freaking cool! *chuckles* That they are, they are, y’know, actually doing concerts for money, and that’s, y’know, it’s about doing the concerts, for money, and about working with adults who also have been doing concerts for money! and drugs *laughing quietly*

And also the fact that so little of it is set inside the school, like, y’know, th-the one moment where like, th-the online journalist writer who’s just like spotlighting, who’s y’know, writing about bands, and looking for Hitori. And then she goes to the school and she’s just like… Kicked out of the school! Because she’s not- she’s… she’s a creep! Who doesn’t belong! In the school! A-And *laughs* And then y’know, in like, another manga where it’s the light music club that that’d just kind of be where the plot… stops! Where that plot line… stops! But she- But then she finds out that y’know, they don’t perform at school, because they’re not a school band, and then, she… goes to the live house… and advances the plot. And is also a kind of… fucked up, self-interested woman, who tries to… sequester Hitori into… agskjhgdkfhkdhjfdddd because she’s afkhjdhkhf she’s interested in money, and promising more than she’s probably able… able to give, she is……

[trails off laughing]

This- this chapter…! This is- This is a scene where, *hiccup* This is a scene where this woman tries to buy Bocchi, buy Hitori, with the promise of exposure! *laughing* That- That is literally: That is the literal description!

[long pause while Audrey gets herself under control]

Okay, I’m done ad-libbing.

One thing I wanted out of the anime, watching the anime, was to see the group grow and expand to the point where they actually do become a famous and successful band. That's basically what I figured it'd head for since, Hitori is already a successful YouTuber, as YouTubers go, and since Nijika said that's where she wanted it to go, that she wants to grow the band and become popular and help everyone reach their dreams. We kind of do have the whole "high schoolers become music celebrities" thing in Love Live, but I'd love to see that sort of thing be done in a way that feels more grounded and believable in a world where people actually seem to worry about money, outside of the fantasy confines of a nationally famous school club, and have it done in a way that the story doesn't stop happening once they graduate! Given how much the story already focuses on adults who are implied to be varying levels of fucked up just as well and seriously as its lead teenage characters who are implied to be varying levels of fucked up, it feels like the sort of story that's kind of made to transition to follow these girls out of their school lives. And I hope it goes there, and I also hope that the anime eventually gets further seasons because the material of the later manga chapters has itself a fantastic foundation if the rest of it is adapted in the same way, so, yeah.

And that's just the feelings I have on that. If you're interested in more bocchi content then um, sakugablog has a couple writeups and translated interviews which talk about the production which is itself its own really interesting story! It also got us to read the manga, because the way that the anime's character designer expresses such passion for Hamaji's work is utterly palpable and gosh things. Also I think it's really funny that Kerorira decided to animate the Bocchi ice bath scene with her wearing a school swimsuit because that adds another deeper layer of hilarious cringe that isn't quite present in the manga version of the scene when you see that she's so mentally conflicted about the merits and demerits of this scheme that she can't bring herself to fully expose her own body to the ice water which would, uh, probably make the intended effect of catching a cold more likely and thus make the plan work better, and also the scene probably couldn't have become as much of a twitter meme if they'd decide to illustrate her without the school swimsuit like the manga does, since then instead everyone would be mentally and sometimes textually debating the merits and demerits of bath scenes in anime, again, except it'd be funnier than that because it'd be about *this* scene and that would be goshdarned hilarious.

I think that’s really kind of it for this one. We’re out of time. So we’ll see everyone next time. And thanks to our patrons.

Brea,

Dorian Newlin

hikari no yume

L Tantivy

pigeon

Sally

Scimitar

And Thijs

And everybody else.

oh wow that was, that was a, that was almost 48 minutes, okay um—

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[solalunar-eclipse]

Strings Neither Green Nor Red

Chapter title: Yellow Threads (Videon E. Addison)

AO3 Link

Rating: T

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Summary: As much as Spamton might try, he can't avoid his old friends/coworkers forever. And is staying away really doing any of them any favors? (Aka I really like reuniting Spamton with the Addisons who used to know him and jumped at the chance to do it here. Set post-Chapter 2.)

Spamton belongs to Toby Fox, all other characters belong to @brightgoat on Tumblr and Twitter. (Also, just so you all know, this fic is probably going to wind up being a bit lighter than the average piece of Brightgoat content, just due to my own writing style. Hopefully that's not too much of an issue!)

Also: TW for implied/referenced alcohol abuse/alcoholism in this chapter.

It was a dark day in Cyber City. The glowing screens and advertisements plastered across every building gleamed as the sole source of light for all the city’s inhabitants. If one of them were to look up, all they would see beyond the skyscrapers and between the green grid was a dark void stretching out into infinity.

Of course, it was always this dark in Cyber City, no matter what, but at the moment Video felt like it reflected their mood more than usual.

They blinked tiredly, struggling to focus their eyes on the clock by their cash register, which read six a.m.—the start of their shift. They’d had an early night (for once) yesterday, but somehow when they did sleep, it was always restless and uncomfortable, plagued with unsettling dreams that they could never quite remember. 

Video sighed, and summoned up just enough energy to plaster a huge grin on their face as the first of their customers came in for the day. Their numbers had been dwindling for a long time now, so they were actually rather grateful for the few that remained. Even that fact could only add some genuineness to their smile, though, as genuine happiness had eluded them for a long time now.

Vid moved through their morning on autopilot, throwing out all of the catchphrases and selling points that they’d long since memorized. Their job wasn’t even something they had to focus on anymore, so it didn’t qualify as a distraction (although they often wished it did). The customers’ faces were a blur—they’d stopped trying to memorize new names a while ago. They weren’t really able to these days, unfortunately.  

Once the clock hit twelve, it was technically time for him to close up shop for his lunch break, but he didn’t particularly care if he was working or not, honestly...at least not until the end of the day, when he could hopefully go to the nearest bar and drink his sorrows away.

He rubbed at his eyes as he stepped out into the street, trying to adjust to something that wasn’t the monotonous glare of the fluorescent lights in his store, before pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. Once upon a time, he’d had access to constant, endless energy, but that wasn’t something he could rely on anymore. The person who’d been there to fuel it was gone now, and his sales (his entire life) hadn’t been the same since.

No, not “the person”. He had a name. Spamton. Video’s jaw tightened slightly—Pay’s constant emotional repression must’ve been getting to him more than he realized.

As Vid turned the sign in his store to the side marked “Closed”, a flicker of movement in the reflection on the glass door caught his eye. A tasque, perhaps, searching for food in the nearby alleyway?

He walked over to check (his easily distractible nature was one of the few traits of his that had remained over time), but saw…nothing. The yellow Addison shrugged and was just about to turn away when a sudden crinkle, followed by a loud slam, came from the dumpster in the alley.

“…hello?” he called warily.

The bin remained silent. Suddenly, though, a tasque did actually appear, padding over to the dumpster and beginning to paw at it and meow unhappily.

“Aw, is one of your friends stuck in there?” Video asked, his expression softening a little. The tasque looked very cute and sad, he had to admit.

As he walked over to the bin and placed a hand on the top, he heard some rustling from inside. “Alright then, let’s see what we’ve got in here.” he said, opening the lid to reveal…

…still nothing?

The tasque leapt into the dumpster and began to paw vigorously at the trash, making Video yelp and jump aside. He took a few more rapid steps back as the contents of the bin began to move without warning, but froze when he heard a voice complaining from inside. 

“STOP IT, YOU SILLY [[Feline]]!! CAN’T YOU [C] I’M TRYING TO [Undercover Agent]—?!?”

The person inside cut themselves off abruptly, but Video had already heard more than enough for him to know who was inside. He stumbled forwards until he hit the edge of the dumpster, clinging to it with both hands in a desperate bid to remain upright as his thoughts whirled with disbelief.

Sprawled amongst the trash, his black-dyed hair all a mess as a tasque licked vigorously at his face, was Spamton G. Spamton himself.

He looked genuinely stunned as he stared up at Video, clearly lacking all of his usual bravado. “UM…HI?”

“You’re alive.” Vid breathed, his mind returning to him in full force. “You’re alive, oh my god!” 

His mouth kicked into overdrive seconds later, finally remembering that he knew a decent amount of words as well as how to use them. “Holy—where have you been all this time?! Why didn’t you come back home, didn’t you know I thought you were dead? What happened to you?!?” he yelled, turning away to pace back and forth forcefully.

Spamton blinked. “WAIT. SINCE WHEN. DID YOU WANT. ME TO COME BACK?”

“What?” Video wheezed, halting his movement as Spam’s response registered. “Since when’d you think I didn’t?”

“THAT [[Late Night Special]] AT THE CYBER GRILL—?” The smaller Addison froze as his voice glitched, clapping a hand over his mouth. He moved farther back into the bin, eyes darting around for an escape route, but Vid wasn’t having any of that.

“Hey hey hey, first of all, calm down.” Video insisted, kneeling down in front of Spam. “I’m not gonna be stupid like Click and make fun of you, ‘kay? Second, no, I’m not mad. Man, I wasn’t even upset for more than, like, a day or two, and then I realized how stupid I was being and came to look for you…but you weren’t there.”

Spamton looked away. “WELL, YOU MADE IT [Clear As Day] TO ME THAT YOU WANTED ME [Out of Stock] IN YOUR LIVES.”

“I—” Vid began, his hands starting to shake. “Spam, I—I’m so sorry. I…….I don’t have any excuse for what I did. I could come up with a million, but I’d just be lying. I was a jealous jerk, and that’s the end of it. And you don’tever have to forgive me, or talk to me again, but—oh god, if I have to spend the rest of my life without you I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“HA! YEAH, [[Shore Vacations 20% Off]].” Spam scoffed. “PULL THE OTHER ONE.”

“N-no, seriously! I know I didn’t tell you this enough way back when, but my life is literally better when you’re around. Like, I thought I was just hyper all day, every day because that’s me! But…now, I can barely do my job, man. I spend my nights at the bar like a loser, just trying to not feel like actual garbage for maybe a couple hours…but all that does is make me sound like a jerk. Dammit. Because, like, the fact that I can run away from my problems is probably still better than what you’ve been through. God, I’m rambling, I didn’t mean to, I just, I’d do literally anything to be able to talk to you for real again. Anything. Whatever you want, I’m serious. I will literally pay you actual money, whatever it is you want. Please.” 

By the time they’d finished speaking, Vid could feel genuine tears welling up in their eyes. They’d cried plenty of nights when they were alone, but this was the first time it had happened in front of someone else.

Spamton just stared at him for a minute. With every second that ticked by, Vid felt more and more terrified…until finally, Spam spoke.

“YOU WANNA [Specil Purchase!] ME [[Government-Mandated Lunch Break]], THEN?”

“Are…you asking me to get lunch with you?” Vid asked, stunned.

“HEY, IF YOU’RE GONNA GIVE ME [[Wild Prizes]], I MIGHT AS [Well Visit] TAKE THEM!”

“I’m guessing this doesn’t mean we’re cool yet, though.” Vid said weakly.

Spamton hesitated. “NOT…YET. THAT WAS A PRETTY [A+] SPEECH THOUGH.”

“I meant it.” Video insisted.

“I NEVER SAID I DIDN’T [[Buy It Now!]].” Spam said, his face unreadable.

Vid stood up, their legs trembling. “Geez, I can barely walk. …uh, what do you want for lunch?”

“DOESN’T MATTER. I’M [Mail Order] THE MOST EXPENSIVE [[Item In Store]].” Spamton smirked.

“Fair…I’ll pick a medium decent place then.”

“NOT THE [[Bargain Bin]]?” Spam asked, curious.

“What, you seriously think I’m gonna stiff you? Now?” Vid was incredulous. “Did I not just say how much I want you to hang out with me again?”

“…HUH.” was Spamton’s only response.

True to his word, Spam did order the most expensive thing on the menu, and Vid shelled out the money for it without a single wince. This, more than any of the nervous conversation Video tried to make, seemed to help convince Spamton somewhat of their intentions.

After Vid had handed over their card, Spam started a conversation for the first time in the whole meal. “WHAT [[GPS Locator]] ARE YOU WORKING [@] TODAY?”

“Oh! Uh, just ad block/unblock. Basic stuff.” Vid said, clearly surprised.

“YOU GET ANY UN[[Block User]]S TODAY?” Spamton asked, smirking. It was a running source of irritation amongst all of the Addisons that hardly anyone came into their stores to get ads back. Having that happen was exceptionally rare and could make the user in question an instantly valued customer…so long as they didn’t reblock ads later.

“God, I wish. That’d be hilarious.” Vid smiled. “I think the latest person to get one was Cinnemon. I can’t even say I’m surprised, she’s really nice to her customers.”

“THAT’S THE ONE WHO LIKES [[Food Safety Rules]], RIGHT?”

“Yeah.” Video said, still half smiling. “I never told her why I was feeling so bad these past, like…years…but she gives me free cake sometimes, which is awesome.”

“SWEET, EVEN.” Spam said automatically, before seeming startled by his own joke.

Vid laughed. It was short, rusty—a little harsh, even. But still, it left them stunned. “Geez. I…I don’t think I’ve laughed in ages.”

“ARE YOU [srs]?” Spamton asked, sounding almost genuine. 

“Yeah, wow…can’t even remember the last time I smiled for real. Yikes.”

“HUH…YOU REALLY [1 Missed Call] ME THAT MUCH?”

“I did.” Vid said quietly, visibly shrinking back into their chair.

A heavy silence fell over the table.

“…YOU WANNA GET [Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!] DAY AFTER TOMORROW?”

“Really? Yes!!” Video cried, nearly jumping out of their seat. 

“DON’T GET TOO [Hype Train].” Spamton said flatly. “I’M STILL [[Cashing In]] ON THAT PROMISE OF YOURS.”

“Okay, okay. But still!” Vid exclaimed, jittering slightly. They were so excited at the promise of seeing Spam again, of smiling more, of, well…maybe, eventually, forgiveness.

…

Over the next few weeks, Video and Spamton met up occasionally for meals, slowly but surely rebuilding a fragile version of the bond they’d once had, despite Spam’s insistence otherwise. The former Addi had been starved for attention and care for far too long, and Vid was more than happy to provide.

As the visits continued on, Vid refused to disappoint, time after time, showing nothing but eagerness and compassion. Not long afterwards, Spam slowly stopped ordering only the most expensive food in favor of things he genuinely wanted.

One day, they’d had to have the difficult conversation about what had happened to each of them since they’d last been friends. It had been looming over several of their previous conversations, but Vid was eventually the one who brought it up first, forcing himself (and the other three Addis, despite the fact that they weren’t even there) to lay everything bare.

Shame had visibly weighed him down as he spoke, but he’d forced the words out regardless, insisting that Spam only deserved to know the truth if they were going to continue spending time together.

Some of it surprised Spamton, some of it didn’t, but in the end, he refused to stop spending time with the yellow Addi, leaving him elated. Meanwhile, he evaded telling Vid too much, giving him only a basic outline of what had happened—omitting Neo entirely, of course.

Video hadn’t been comfortable pushing the subject, something which Spam was grateful for. Still, despite the lack of information he’d provided, something about that had seemed to clear the air, allowing their later conversations to be lighter than before.

(Vid had also opted not to tell the other Addis about Spamton, both on his own and later at Spam’s request.)

One day, as a matter of fact, Video noticed that it was time for their lunch break to end…but for once, due to some weird scheduling, he didn’t actually have to go back to their job for the afternoon. “Hey, do you want to do literally anything else but work right now?”

“I DON’T HAVE [[A steady job]] ANYMORE, REMEMBER? YOU”RE [[The One And Only]] WHO EVEN HAS TO WORK.” Spamton said, smirking.

“Yeah, yeah, I know!” Video cried, throwing up his hands. “…wait, was that supposed to be funny or serious?”

“WHY CAN’T IT BE [[A Two For One Deal!]]?.” Spam asked. When this got him only awkward silence, he continued, “WELL, IF YOU DON’T NEED TO DO YOUR [Work Hours], HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT [[Hitting the town]]?”

“Oh my god, yes!” Video shouted, jumping to his feet. “Genius! I actually kind of had something I’ve been wanting to do for a while…”

…

…it was a miracle he didn’t get caught, honestly, despite the amount of time he spent watching the building beforehand to make sure he got his timing right. When Spamton had picked up on what the yellow Addi wanted to do, he’d even insisted on helping, much to Vid’s surprise. He hadn’t refused, though, delighted to do just about anything with Spam.

The danger in the situation was that pink Addisons were notoriously uptight, as well as famously strong…and Joyston was the strongest of them all. Video knew that running into him while pulling this off could potentially spell disaster and even death for both of them—but that was what made it fun.

After sneaking into his store and proceeding to swap every single pair of Dating Shoes for Divorce Shoes and vice versa, the two Addisons fled to the rooftop of the building across the street, shooting each other smirks the whole time.

“YOU’RE [[Legally Obligated]] TO TELL ME HOW HE REACTS TOMORROW, YOU KNOW!” Spam insisted, actually smiling for once. It had been fun for him to do something as frivolous as that again, truthfully.

Video grinned back. “Oh, man, absolutely.”

He looked out across the street and up towards the skyscrapers, enjoying the way the lights mixed together.

“HEY. YOU WANNA [Feast Your Eyes!] SOMETHING COOL?” Spamton asked suddenly.

“Uh—sure!” Vid said, eager to do just about anything Spam might suggest. 

Their old friend led him on a several-block walk without elaborating. At first, Video was too nervous to even ask what was going on, but after about three minutes, they mustered up the courage to speak.

“Are we there yet?” they asked, and then immediately regretted it.

It seemed to hit well with Spamton, though, because he let out a glitchy laugh. It surprised him almost as much as it did Vid—enough to make his stride stutter briefly.

Video smiled, relief sinking into them. Maybe…maybe they could repair things after all.

Spam led them up a fire escape, then across a few rooftops to yet another ladder. Once Vid had made it to the top, they looked around and saw…nothing but bland skyscrapers.

“Why are we here?” they asked, bewildered.

“DOWN THERE, [[Wise guy]].” Spam said flatly, but he was smiling.

Vid walked to the edge of the rooftop and looked over—

—and down into a shining column of multicolored, ever shifting light.

“Whoa…” they breathed, stunned.

“THOSE [Paid Advertisements] LOOK EVEN NICER UP [[In the stratosphere]], DON’T THEY?”

“Those are—wait, is that Central Plaza?!” Video gasped. “I’ve never seen it like this before!”

“SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA [Eyeball] SOMETHING A DIFFERENT WAY, AND IT’LL LOOK [[better than ever!]]” Spam said, moving to sit at the edge of the roof.

“…is that supposed to be a metaphor for something?” Vid asked, smirking.

“[Yes, no, maybe so].” Spamton muttered. “I WANTED TO SAY…I”M [[Apologies for the poor service!]] ABOUT WHAT I SAID [Way Back When] TOO. I GOT M4D WAY TOO FAST>.”

“Spam…” Video murmured, rapidly losing the ability to speak.

“YEAH?”

“I’d trash my motorbike in a hot second if I could take back everything from that day. I promise. That’s how much I wanna fix this.” they said, looking him in the eyes (as well as they could with his glasses, anyway).

Spamton stared at him. “BUT YOU [[Cherish]] THAT BIKE.”

“Not as much as I care about you.” Vid insisted.

After a long, long pause, Spam hesitantly shifted closer to Video, before leaning his head on the yellow Addi’s arm. “That…means a lot.” he said softly, his voice not glitching for once.

“I’ll say it again if you want.” Vid said, putting an arm around Spam’s shoulders and pulling him closer.

“NAH…[[One Time Only!]] ALL I NEED.” he said, turning back to look out at the city lights with his friend once again.

[pa-pa-plasma]

okay, I didn't see this until now (& op turned reblogs off apparently) but I'll address some stuff under a readmore just to clear stuff up.

"one piece has multiple queer characters" One Piece literally has a gay club that hands out free transitions to transgender people. I am not making this shit up. Also, Luffy is asexual & aromantic. "multiple" doesn't really do it justice

"the whole "tumblr crossing the picket line" thing in promoting it (i think? i've heard people talking about it at least)" tumblr didn't cross a picket line. tumblr is allowed to advertise, as they (as in the website & the people who run it) are not planning to be part of the writer or actor unions. this is just regular advertising that other movies & shows have done & are doing.

"the strangeness of what things tumblr decides to promote and in what intensities they do for which things" again, tumblr was paid to promote One Piece. yes, there are problems with what tumblr pushes & what it hides, but it was paid to do this. it isn't favouring One Piece for no reason. it is favouring One Piece because it was paid to. if Our Flag Means Death wanted to advertise on tumblr, they could.

"the fact that what little i know about the original one piece is sexism" the series started in the 90's in Japan, so yes, there is a lot that isn't great, but for a lot of us it was our first experience of seeing openly queer characters & women who can beat the shit out of you. for the bad stuff (basically just out of date shit) the live action series does fix this, but I think it would be good to consider that it was 90's Japan when Oda wrote it with queer & strong (as in, power level type shit) women in mind. this isn't fucking Harry Potter we're talking about, where all the bad shit is a fundamental part of the creator's worldview & personality. this is like, some old shit that didn't age good like everything else that exists ever. his art style is kinda fucky & I won't defend it but like. we're talking about the live action which negates all that. also, as someone else pointed out, the women are drawn sexy, but so are the men. have you seen Zoro's massive tits?

"and the fact that netflix remakes in the past usually aren't well received." the One Piece Live Action series not only has fans involved, but the creator of the original series working on it. they also made the physical sets (most of which are ships on the water) & only used CGI when they literally couldn't use practical FX (Luffy stretching, for instance). if you looked into it at all, you would've seen that this is not the same as, say, The Lion King. people tend to forget that it isn't the "live action" itself that is bad, but the execution. One Piece Live Action was executed very, very well with what it had to work with, & we could see this ahead of time, not just when the show came out. I literally teared up at parts because I felt like I was watching One Piece again for the first time. All the important scenes were 1:1 with the original, & they even played the original theme song We Are (instrumental version). That is how good it is. It was made with love & you can clearly see it.

I appreciate the apology, but the fact that you didn't know anything about it (you're allowed to look stuff up) before putting this post in the main tags is like. why. people (not just the op in the screenshots, as I've seen this multiple times in different fandoms) need to learn that if you hate something, block the tag, don't go into tag complaining about what you think the series is. this is how you ruin the experience for fans--& yourself. you are doing the exact thing you are complaining about tumblr doing, except worse, because you're just ignorantly shitting on it, & not even in a funny way.

anyway, go experience some childlike wonder & watch OPLA, or don't. I literally don't care.

[mysticdreamcafe]

Post planning

Those who read my blogs know I have two cafe's I try to post to on a somewhat regular basis.

Today I feel I want to post a Card of the Day in the Tarot Cafe but it seems my decks are duking it out. I'm agitated today so it seems to be interfering with my choice of deck.

Agitation is because I can't find a site that won't charge me money to find an old friends records. Even the state sites charge. When the hell did this change?

Everyone is so greedy. I know greed and power have always ruled the world, but it's way out of hand. Thanks to the internet and global commerce there are more filthy rich people who aren't limited by boarders or laws anymore.

I get bombarded with ads that aren't honest. When I was in middle school, we called it Jr. High, I read a slim book in reading class about truth in advertising. Campbell's soup used clear glass marbles in the bottom of a bowl of Alphabet soup so the letters could be seen. They were fined and told that wasn't legal because people at home couldn't see the letters in their bowls. It was false advertising.

Fast forward almost a century and it's an anything goes world of promoting what you want to sell. A guy in China was gathering mud from the road, drying it in small balls, and selling it as pepper corn. What they call the police over there looked into it and he got off scott free because the mud didn't hurt anyone and it was up to the consumer to trust his word.

Make-up, health food or supplement ads are horrible. One man, who was in terrific shape and worked out daily, did a post on how people are tricked by this crap people are selling to lose weight. He took a pic after working out with weights, showering, and oiling himself like he was going to be in Mr Universe. Afterwards, he showered again, sat around eating crap, and after a few hours he snapped another pic while pushing is gut out and not flexing to show any muscles.

He swapped pics and said the non-muscular one was the before pic and the thinner, muscular one was after he used some supplement that he made up. He didn't use anything advertised to lose weight and build muscle other than eating nutritionally and exercising regularly.

Same with makeup adds. If a lady has dark spots or freckles on their face but neck is evenly toned while stating they haven't used anything yet...it's a lie. If they have bumps (pimples or whatever) before applying the makeup being sold then they are gone afterwards...it's a lie. Filters, photoshop, and other computer programs are being used to suck you in so you buy their over priced stuff. Same for aging cream.

Get botox or get fat and it will smooth out your skin. Botulism and obesity sound like things we should all aim for huh? Yes, that's sarcasm and I don't endorse any of them.

These are a few reasons why I only do Tumblr as a source of social media. I'm not bombarded by political opinions, pics of people who are using filters and other aids to look perfect according to societal standards.

I'm not beautiful by anyone's standard here in America because when I was pregnant I went from a bump to a beach ball over night and have stretch marks on abdomen and other places on my body. Try, unexpectedly, going from a flat chest in 5th grade to a c-d cup overnight. My mom was so freaked she ran me to the Dr.

Humans are organic entities and we aren't perfect. Yet, if you aren't perfect you aren't worth being seen. Same with money. Greed is overtaking everything and maintaining the same profit margin isn't good enough anymore. Even if it is a billion dollars a year. They always need to make more no matter the means.

We pay people millions of dollars for doing jobs many others could do for less. Why? Why do we judge people as being less for self publishing a book? Acting in local productions vs the silver screen? Painting landscapes that aren't like Bob Ross's? Not looking perfect? Not starving themselves to be as skinny as a model or american actress?

I can honestly say that I prefer watching UK, Australian, New Zealand, etc. shows because they have actors who look like average people you see on the streets or in shops. They don't body shame and they don't promote unhealthy means to obtain the shape they think is "perfect".

This will be continued once I get more coffee.

MV

[writingmochi]

part 1

cast: taehyun ✗ fem.reader (ft. loona yyxy, txt's hueningkai, and other idols)

synopsis: the year is 1999. cardboard boxes were put on the driveway of the newly-settled home across from where taehyun lives. the five sisters will soon shake the neighborhood with their eccentric personalities yet mysterious auras. the moon sisters. since that day they arrived, taehyun is intrigued by them and especially you, the youngest of the sisters

genre: coming of age, bildungsroman, slice of life, romance, drama, high school au, late 90s au, angst, a tiny bit of fluff, mature content (explicit smut, suicidal characters, depressive episodes)

based on: movie the virgin suicides (1999)

word count: 32794 (32.7k) out of 52076 (52k)

warning(s): tyun wears glasses AND is an amateur boxer, smoking (cigarettes), mentally and physically abusive parent, narcissistic parent, gender discrimination, suicide attempt, self-harm, depression, blood, bruises, semi-public sexual act (handjob), explicit sex (soft sex for part 1), protected sex, loss of virginity (m & f), hand job (m & f receive), oral job (m & f receive), manhandling (if there is something that i forgot, let me know)

message from the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life.

welcome! this is supposed to be a one-shot but because the word count has reached 50k+ and my tumblr errored because of it, i have no choice but to split them in two. so this is part 1! thank you so much for the enthusiasm as i've read from the teaser and i hope you enjoy it!

cd mix | wall collage | part 2

it is almost noon on the first day of august in the year 1999. heavy breaths and the sound of metals colliding with each other filled the four walls as a boy dropped his barbell on the stand behind the bench he is lying on. a new personal best for the weight he succeeds in bench-pressing.

different paraphernalia of a teenage boy covers two corners of the room. one is full of textbooks for school, and the other is full of workout items, with a desk right between them that somehow integrates both corners. a roll of hand wrap bandage in front of his box-shaped personal computer’s desktop that shows the latest operating system by windows, windows 98, and its teal background.

chiming bells of messages the boy recognized from his instant messenger makes him sit up from his bench. the t-shirt he wore sticks onto his sweating body—pooling sweat in between his joints—as he stretches his legs by standing up, cooling down his arm muscles as another chime rings.

he grabs the towel that hangs on his desk chair; seeing the blurry black-colored text of the messages in the open chatroom window. his hand reaches for the glasses on his desk, making him able to see the red screen name of “penguinkai” and the pixelated penguin face for a profile picture. the messages are about him asking to hang out at his house or him following the boy to the gym for his boxing club activities. messages that signal “i’m bored” makes the boy chuckle as he sits on the chair to answer his best friend’s messages back, the towel now drapes around his shoulders.

what he should’ve noticed is the sound of a vehicle right in front of the window behind his desk and computer. the open window of his—a habit he got from his mom who opens it every morning until noon—makes the sound more prominent. eyes, that were looking at the blinking line on the screen after he finish typing, now focused on something else instead of sending the message.

peeking from behind the boxy electronic device, he sees a truck with words written on its side. he can deduce the large-scale words as the name of a moving company he has seen before, either by the advertisements he saw on the world wide web or the names written as a sign on blocks full of office-like buildings. the truck sits on the side of the used-to-be empty house across from his while a brown dodge caravan—it resembles the one his relative has—sits in the house's carpark.

the boy focused on the doors of the car as people came out. he could count seven heads, two adults: husband and wife, and what he can presume are their five children, all daughters.

he views the new family; the father walks towards the moving worker as they open the container of the truck while the mother stands by the side, holding onto a large purse as she walks to the door. he remembered a few days before, he saw the couple at the house. his mom added the context that they were there to park one of their cars and receive the pieces of furniture they bought or bring for their new home.

if their children are there, he knows they will stay here forever. it slowly comes true as he sees the abundance of cardboard boxes filling up the spaces on the driveway.

eyes slowly moving towards the sisters who stood with various styles of clothing, all looking to be around his age at varying heights. yet, he follows one sister in particular more.

a discman hanging on the strap that is on her shoulder. she bops her head with the headset on as she walks towards the back of the truck around the asphalt road; unlike her other sisters who are using the pavement.

a few of the other sisters help in bringing the cardboard boxes down from inside the truck, while he looks at the discman girl as she climbs up into the truck effortlessly. seeing one of her sisters climbing up into the truck, another one steps inside as another sister—who is wearing a white lace dress—looks inside at them, her posture looking stiff.

waiting and waiting until the discman girl jumps out of the truck with what looks to be a guitar case strap onto her other shoulder. she whispers something to the sister in the dress as she walks away behind the truck to her front door.

later in the day; when the truck has gone away and the front lawn of the house is now visible, the boy’s mom walks to the home across from hers, preparing a welcoming gift for her new neighbors. he sees it as he puts on his burgundy sweater and prepares his duffel bag to meet kai at the gym, his mom still wears her apron as she crosses the road and presses the bell on the front door.

he walks out to the front door to see his mom walking back home, a warm smile on her face as he lifts the strap of his bag up his shoulder more.

“new neighbors?” he asked with a regular speaking tone: a disguise for his curiosity.

“yes, they’re the moons. i invited them for dinner tomorrow night as they are unpacking their stuff first. that’s okay for you, right, taehyun?” mom replies as taehyun pushes his glasses up his nose bridge.

it’s not even a whole day, and he surprised himself at how he is already interested in them. knowing that in this block of the neighborhood, there aren’t as many teenagers around his age, rather it is full of kids younger than him as new families emerge one by one.

teenage girls, especially, are a rarity.

“i’m okay with that, mom.”

at first, he spends the rest of the day normally, punching the punching bag to work out while kai sits on the sidelines with a few of his boxing club friends that are tired. he didn’t think about the moon sisters until when he walked back home from the bus stop—after parting away from kai—when he sees the house across from his lighting up the outdoor lights as the sun sets for another day.

a silhouette of someone walking out of the door carrying a trash bag to the outdoor garbage bins. it is another sister he saw but didn’t focus on before as another one goes out, barefooted, to her. the discman girl. he took a quick glimpse at them before looking away to face his front door, knowing that he will get to know them better tomorrow.

taehyun usually never helps his mom to prepare dinner, but knowing that at least five people will come to his house—excluding his own four-membered family—he let himself help his mom after she told him to wear a semi-formal outfit, arranging the table while his mom and older sister finishes the cooking they made. dad not being there as he will arrive late means that he might be the only male in the house, but not if mr. moon will come as well.

he puts the plates he picked up on the four-person table, knowing that a few leftover plates mean that a few of the guests have to sit on the sofa. organizing the utensils beside the plate as his sister puts the food in the middle of the table. heads up: startled, his eyes were now on the front door as he heard the front doorbell ringing.

“i’ll get it.” his sister said as she rubs her hands on her own apron. taehyun finishes putting the spoons as he peeks from behind the wall to see his sister’s behind obscuring the door. she opens it to see the lady, mrs. moon, wearing a long dress as a few others stood behind her almost in a line.

he sees her sister gesturing to come in as mrs. moon steps inside and took off her inconveniently tall high heels by the door—she just went across from her house to be there. he straightens his posture when he felt a hand on his shoulder, his mom guiding him to the hallway so they can greet the guests better. his gaze sticks to the five girls entering the cramped hallway of his house, all wearing short dresses of various styles and colors, recognizing the last one entering as the discman girl.

“thank you for inviting us, mrs. kang. i’m sorry that my husband can’t join us cause he has a meeting to do.” mrs. moon said as mom steps forward.

“that’s okay. our patriarch also couldn’t join us tonight because of his work, so i apologize for that inconvenience.” his mom said as both the ladies gives a smile and a knowing nod. he puts his lips into a straight line as he nuzzles his glasses up the bridge of his nose, lifting his head up to look at the group of girls across from him, feeling his cheeks getting warm from blood flowing to them.

“let me introduce you to my daughters!” mrs. moon replied as she opens her arm to gather the girls closer.

“this is sooyoung, our eldest.” sooyoung steps forward in a pink sleeveless dress. her eyes looking towards his family and she gives a small nod to his sister beside her.

“this is jiwoo.” the girl raises her hand onto a wave as she greeted them with a warm smile, wearing an orange-white plaid dress.

“our third is chaewon.” chaewon who has her name mentioned, lifted her head slightly, giving a tight lip smile in her pastel green lacy dress. taehyun recognize her as the same girl in the white lace dress from yesterday.

“hyejoo.” mrs. moon turns her head towards the girl, who is the only one wearing an outer blazer with a grey dress underneath. her hands wrapped in front of her torso as she gently leans her head back against the wall.

“and (y/n), our youngest.” his eyes are now on the discman girl who’s wearing a blue sundress, a style different from the oversized sweater she wore yesterday.

looking at how the girl’s picking on her nails, he can’t seem to look away from her, from you. his eyes rise from your fingers to see your head moving up as well, an unplanned eye contact that startles him, making you let out a small chuckle as you cover your mouth.

“… and this is my son, taehyun.” he heard his mom say his name beside him as her arm rubs his back, not listening to how his mom was introducing the family. he gives a small smile on his face before his mom welcomes the rest in so that the food won’t be cold. taehyun, being the last one on the line, saw you giving another eye contact to him before walking forward.

the seating arrangement of nine people makes him sit beside his mom while mrs. moon sits beside sooyoung. his sister is with the other four sisters in the living room across the dining table and hallway. he thought the girls will eat on the cushioned seat but they all sat on the floor instead. sooyoung who sits across from him seems to be taking a glimpse of her four sisters before looking towards their mom who converses with his mom.

his eyes wander towards the girls and his sister that are conversing on the carpet, seeing glints of light on each of their ankles from the lights on the ceiling; he presumes sooyoung also has one too. they’re holding their plate in various ways like sitting cross-legged or leaning against the cushion of the sofa. he hears them giggle as he looks between the girls when he notices a bandage like what he uses for boxing on chaewon’s wrists, her quiet demeanor gives chills down his spine as what might happen to make them as a result…

time flew too fast from taehyun’s perception as he hears clinks of plates stacking on top of each other while his mom serves dessert for the others. taehyun gives a small nod to his mom, pointing to his plate in front of him before she gives an ‘okay’ as he stands up, picking up the plate and utensils on his part of the table and then walks to the kitchen, where he can hear running and splashing of water.

he thought it was his sister, having not seen the living room when walking into the room until he sees the back of the blue sundress and a stack of plates on the counter beside the sink. he walks closer before his spoon slides on the plate, creating a loud sound that makes you turn towards it.

your eyes widen as he gives a small smile, stepping towards you as he sounded, “you don’t have to…”

“oh sorry…” you replied as taehyun now stood beside you, placing the items he brought in front of the stack of dirty plates as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt. “it’s a habit. i’m the one that got assigned the washing dishes chore at home,” you continued.

he lets a chuckle come out, seeing that you were taking a glimpse at him whilst rinsing the plates from the bubbles made by the dish soap. “(y/n), right?” he tried to ice break.

“yeah, i am. and you’re taehyun…” he sees you flutter your eyelids before returning to the plates as you put them on the counter on the other side where he stood in front. he quickly picks up a napkin from the island counter, making you let out a chuckle as he picks the plate, one by one, to dry the droplets on them. leaning his back against the counter beside you, he creates a pattern of putting the dry plate on the island counter across from him.

“you’re the youngest?” his voice pitched up at the end of the question. you playfully hummed in agreement.

“your mom said that you and a few of your sisters are in my year…” he said, putting the plate on top of the one he dried.

“oh yeah… chaewon, hyejoo, and i are fraternal triplets. i was born the latest, a 30-minute difference from hyejoo who has a 10-minute gap with chaewon,” you replied. he nods as he looks down at your bare feet while drying a plate, seeing the result of the glint he saw was an anklet resting around your right ankle. the light from the ceiling above him reflects on the chain. its blinding shine didn’t let him feel a nudge on his arm before he finally notice.

his head tilts up as he sees you move in front of him, the bottom of your sundress grazes his clothes as you tilt your head up to look at him. the plate being pulled like a magnet from his hands to yours before wiping it with a tissue you grab and putting it on the counter behind you. taehyun’s eyes follow the plate as it stacks on top of its friends before returning to your figure who is looking back at him, a more direct and purposeful eye contact than the ones you both do in the hallway before eating. your gaze then looks down at his forearms that are exposed from the sleeve being rolled up, his veins protruding against the skin as the result of working out for most of the summer to improve his boxing skill.

“i see you glancing at us from the dining table…” you murmured as you move closer, making his slouching posture now straight as he sees the tiny gap between his and your body. you lift your left hand before putting it on the counter behind him, trapping his body between it and you.

he unconsciously gulps his saliva as he tried to look at the surrounding of the kitchen his mom and dad designed.

but, he… can’t.

“i don’t know what your intention is by glancing at us in plain sight. but, just to let you know…” taehyun finally felt his heart beats against his chest as you move your head closer to his, feeling a faint of your breath caressing his skin. he looks into your eyes, seeing them looking stable from the way they gaze, but on a longer look, they look puffy.

he can see faint cracks in your vase that is your mind. so subtle, but might haunt him for an unknown amount of time.

“there are so many things you won’t understand about us, taehyun.”

your eyes shake slightly when you said it before your right hand reaches up towards his face. he braces for the unplanned contact before feeling the glasses on his face moved up on his nose, seeing it being pushed by your hand before you let out a smirk and step back, retreating your left hand back before turning around and leaving him stunned in the kitchen by himself.

that was the last he saw them, the last time he saw you. until the first day of school, a week later.

leaning back against his and kai’s locker that are side by side, taehyun tilts his head up as he pushes his glasses while looking at the hallway. his dark blue uniform pants pair up with the girls’ uniform with their plaid-pattern dark blue skirts with vests rested on top of the white shirts. other students wear a cardigan, varsity jacket, and other outers—even not wearing the vest at all—to express their personality, passion, and school persona. he himself wears his burgundy sweater that becomes his signature.

the entrance at the end of the hallway was when he saw the moon sisters enter with their newly ironed school uniforms and uniformly styled looks—even to the same glints on their right feet above their white socks that he now knows are anklets. the ranging personalities he sees are now a clean slate when being compared to what they were like the first time he saw them moving their cardboard boxes.

but as the day went, he observed them, the five of them, having lunch at the trunk of the tree outside. seeing them laying down on each other’s thighs as they giggled. seeing moon chaewon with tons of bracelets covering her wrist and moon (y/n)—his newest classmate—with her silver and blue-colored discman.

it didn’t take long for the sisters to spread out of the cocoon that is the awkwardness of a new environment and new school.

as a month into living in the new neighborhood, one morning when he puts on his uniform shirt on top of his undershirt, he sees the girls walk out of the house in a rush. he presumes they want to chase the bus on the corner of the block. but, he didn’t expect them to hide between the garage and one of their cars in the carpark, where one of them picks up a garbage bag beside their outdoor trash bin. pulling out skirts whose colors and patterns are the same as the ones the school wears today and a bunch of various outer shirts from a bomber jacket to a cardigan. openly undressing themselves to their undershirts and switching around their clothes.

openly showing the world who they really are: individual people.

taehyun’s eyes focused on the girls scrambling around to switch their shirts between each other while buttoning his white shirt. some of them wearing spaghetti strap tank tops for their undershirt as he sees one of the sisters toss an oversized striped sweater to his classmate, you. focusing on you as you put your head through the hole, he held his breath as he sees you tidying up your hair, a smile he had never seen adorning your face made him chuckle. he then sees hyejoo leaning closer to you, making you pause before your gaze looks towards his house, his window, him.

the boy’s eyes widen as he stood in stunned before you give him a smirk, your eyes meeting, wanting him to be pulled gently towards you. sooyoung’s silent talk from where he is and gesture takes your attention as they left the house, your head giving one last look towards where he is before following your sisters. taehyun finally breathed after holding his breath all this time.

a month since they move, a month full of observing from behind his studies and boxing, is enough for his basic assessment of the moon sisters.

the oldest one, sooyoung, is the fashionista of the group. she likes to push the boundaries of the school uniform rule by wearing a shorter skirt and a tighter shirt that must be from the other sisters, even wearing accessories like necklaces and alike. a senior that took the breath away of the other seniors, her confidence and attractiveness attracted the likes of the most popular seniors in school, mostly the varsity jocks.

jiwoo, the second oldest, is also a senior and the brightest of the sisters. a typical girl-next-door he usually recognized from his sister’s teen movie collection. but her brightness lights the sisters up with her jokes and laughs will always fly because of her. though many boys seem to like her, her eyes always shine when she looks at girls: punk girls, cheer girls, and theatre girls. the apple of her cheeks getting more prominent if she looks at the flower girls of the school.

chaewon is the oldest of the triplets, child number three, and is the proper and elegant-looking sister. she wears the most oversized uniform out of all the sisters, a longer skirt that is almost halfway down her calves. she always looks down every time she walks, yet she gives him chills every time he looks at her figure. her wide eyes seem to glitter with some glistening on them. the sisters seem to always find a new flower to put behind her earlobe. she is the most out of the sisters that look and acts like what a feminine girl is. almost ideal.

hyejoo, the second triplet, is the tomboy of the sisters. a striker in the girl’s football team of the school and like dominating other students, especially physically and with boys. her actions making it seem that she has a vendetta against the other sex. she is always wearing a jacket almost like the one maverick uses in top gun. and her gaze slices people like a knife with her feline-like eyes.

you, the youngest and the last triplet, are the one he spends his time with the most, the one he takes interest in the most. yet still an enigma for him.

being in the same class where he sat in the middle row with kai, you sat at the back beside the window of the class, the lone desk on your row as you are an additional student in his class. every time he enters the class on school mornings, he can see you looking down the window beside your seat, before you put on the headset connected to your discman or picking on your nails.

what he can always appreciate is the way the morning ray finds the right place to shine on your face. your hair always shields the right place that you always took his breath away every time he glimpses at you.

what he never expected—but realized is what you might have done before moving here—is when he sees you smoke a cigarette. he first notices it when he sees you and hyejoo having a smoke during a free time when he went to the restroom, seeing how you and your sister lean against the brick wall while the other juniors are in the class. like the world just seems to stop for the both of you. yet, even though people around him don’t smoke, he didn’t mind the faint smell of it exudes from you that mixes with your eau de toilette.

for the month that you and he live across from each other, you were always the one that he caught sneaking out at night. he knows because sometimes under the light of his study lamp, he can see the silhouette coming from the house and when you came back, your eyes always meet him that overlooks his window as he chats with kai or studies at his desk. you give him a smirk before climbing inside your home and gently closing the door. though both of the vehicles your family has usually aren’t even at home at that time.

the moon sisters, though always attracted people’s attention, have never been separated from each other other than in class or after-school activities. they eat lunch together and even disappear together. but what you said to him always stick to him, no matter what, he wants to be closer to them, and he knows that the hollow-like eyes he sees a few of the sisters have, even you, always makes him curious.

there are so many things he won’t understand about them. yet, he wants to. he will do anything to understand.

-

the vibrating strings created sounds that travel around the four walls of the room. hands holding onto the neck and the around the body of the guitar, fingers plucking one of the six strings in a pattern that shapes a chord. the nails are different lengths on both of the hands, longer on the hand that plucks the nylon strings, and shorter on the hand that is on the fretboard. you pull the guitar closer to you as your fingers play by themselves.

you lay your head against the mattress from the bed behind you as you look at the night sky outside the window. the screen is playing a vhs tape of clueless as you look at each of your sisters’ figures being relaxed around the tv: doing whatever they’re doing with most watching the movie. waiting for something to happen, no ignition to cause it.

when you heard the faint sound of the ambulance siren roads away from where you at, your thoughts travel elsewhere. you don’t recognize if this is real or a memory of yours before you glance at chaewon’s bandage-wrapped wrists underneath the bracelets you and your sisters put on her.

you remember seeing her body; the color is saturated from her skin as blood seeps onto the temporary bandage when the emts brought her into the ambulance. seeing mama’s stunned face as the spinning red lights and siren attracts the neighbors that stare at the scene like a spectacle of some miracle or disaster. a young girl hurting herself in the overflowing bathtub of their bathroom, knowing two ways to go where she has attempted one.

yet, all of your sisters and you are not surprised to see chaewon being brought to the nearest hospital as the ambulance left with both of your parents; leaving the house to the children once again. you peer at the numerous scars your sisters inflict on themselves and the ones you inflict on your own body, all to whisk the pain away from living in this odious home, well… with odious parents.

mama’s impulsivity and shame from letting the neighbors see a side of her family that she doesn’t want and papa’s willingness to follow what she wants, make them decide to move the family over the summer to a new place, where nobody knew you or your family. if they do know, they knew how your mama is treating all of her daughters like princesses.

she is the queen that those princesses know to not defy, even though they want to.

coming from a prestigious family, mama has always been treated like a princess by everyone around her. a princess in their eyes and what she believes she is as she went to high-class gatherings and met important people all around the country. academia, wealth, and nobility become the statuses that matter to her. her parents put her in the most prestigious school. then she met papa—a fellow who grows up like her—in a private college who treated her more than a princess: treating her like a queen.

you always wonder—as you grow up—why she even thought to bear five daughters to create replicate versions of her every time…

all of them to be learning ballet. all of them to be learning musical instruments, especially in a classical sense—a loophole you found with the guitar that you now know how to play as you told her that there is such a thing as a classical guitar, which made her agree for you to take; unlike a few of your sisters’ default piano learning or other instruments like violin and flute. all of them learning how to be proper and poise like how nobilities from the 18th century should do—in the 20th century. all of it are the ones mama has done before becoming a socialite from an old money family.

you always wonder why they decide to grow five daughters up—who society always tells you that fathers are more nurturing towards daughters than sons—when your own is kissing your mama’s feet almost all the time…

papa has always been quiet and he doesn’t involve himself in ‘growing you up’, always a traditionalist of his of knowing the gender roles of fathers going to work while mothers take care of the home. because of that, mama can take over everything and set up expectations for all of you, including what you eat and what you wear in public. yet she seems to stay away most of the day and not even care about the well-being of the household, making all of you turn to be independent in taking care of your own well-being and your belongings by at least the age of 5: when your nanny passed away.

you and your sisters’ nanny is both a mother figure to the five of you, but also a pseudo-sister-figure of your mama as she is an only child, seeing mama growing up before her eyes and mama even make her a personal nanny that she brought with her until marriage and giving birth to her daughters. the earliest memory you remember was playing with your sisters on a playing mat full of dolls with your nanny overseeing all of you, mama and papa cannot be seen. you felt the pain a few days after her death, with no one there nurturing you on why she is gone, no one there helping you. only mama’s expectations of you all being her perfect little girls she can show off. only you and your sisters’ trust in each other as you both pain yourself away from reality.

the idea to fight against your mama’s expectations didn’t come until sooyoung and jiwoo entered high school: seeing how pretty their new uniforms are against the middle school ones you and your other sisters wore. then the magazines come in as they sneak them in their bags every time they bought a few on the way home from school alone—a contrast to your parents using their wealth to benefit themselves. the tons and tons of information you’ve collected from fashion, music, and gossip, all of them combined and ingrained into all of your minds, that there is something more to life other than this hellhole you call a household.

and so, you all fight in ways you are confident in. buying clothes that your mama deems inappropriate secretly. going out to see the town other than going to school or with your parents at night. trying something new, something dangerous, something fun. learning something to help to know your true self. all of that throughout 4 years of painful touches, curses, and living a life you wanted until near the end of summer break when papa found chaewon who can’t handle any more of the pain. a summer break that is full of ups but more downs than usual ones.

after chaewon gets out of the hospital, mama and papa couldn't be seen. the rest of you don’t want to see them anyway from the growing hatred you had for them, well, for mama. you remember all the insults and blame thrown onto all four of you for embarrassing her in the public's face, how fuming she is that her daughters don’t care about how she will be perceived later on. more changing of thoughts and emotions as she is becoming the real-life version of jekyll and hyde all of you have depicted her to be. because of them not coming home for days, partying up instead of taking care of such a vulnerable family before the day you move out, sooyoung thought of something to do as a last hurrah.

she has planned for all of you to go out to a bazaar by the beach near where you live before you move overmorrow. mama’s demands on cleaning up your less-needed stuff are made as she went out on a date with papa after putting her car in the new house—a perfect time to travel outside. sooyoung and jiwoo lead you onto the bus stop as they track down the stop's name by the beach. arriving there in the outfit you are all comfortable in and represents all of you uniquely, you observe hyejoo pulling a box of cigarettes out as you pick one up and putting it between your lips, nearing the end to the flame she ignites from the lighter as you take a huge puff. hence, the flame burns the stick before pulling it out, letting the heated smoke fly as your other three sisters stare at the two of you. chaewon gives a timid smile. her skin isn’t as healthy as it used to be as she was just discharged a few days ago.

walking down the boardwalk, booths upon booths of products line up in front of the beach as you all trail down the crowded street of the late summer, viewing the amount of street food that smells so delicious that you’ve only seen from magazines as mama has never given any sort of food like that for you to consume. that’s when you knock yourself on your older sister’s side as you turn your head to watch her looking at a stand that sells pieces of jewellery of any kind, but a mannequin’s foot takes her attention as she approaches to inspect the ankle that is wrapped with a chain around it. an anklet.

jiwoo’s focus on ice cream left you and sooyoung alone as the others are buying the food for you to snack on whilst you are here. approaching her, you hear her talk about wanting to buy a plain anklet like the one on display, but then you see the crescent moon charms in her cupped hands. she notices your presence when she turns to look at you and asked, “which of the charms here represent us the most?”

that’s when you step closer to see the small bowls of bracelet charms waiting to be hooked to the chain on the right person. you knew exactly why she asked that and you identified exactly what to bring up.

a white pearl charm catches your eyes as you pick up and pinch it between your thumb and forefinger, putting it between you and the person you knew represents this well. sooyoung.

as the oldest sister, you’ve gained much respect towards her and the elegance that exudes from her. a combination of old money and something modern. you’ve seen the dress designs in her journal beside the biology homework she has to take—the journal being more decorated is a piece of available evidence for you to identify which one she likes more under the pressure of your parents of her having a responsible and respectful career for a woman like a doctor or a lawyer. the suffocation she feels is always seen with the number of necklaces she likes to wear, a choker that is too tight for her neck but she doesn’t complain as she admires the mark it left on her skin back at home. the fashion magazines she sneaks in are always for her to see the latest line of her favorite fashion brands and models like kate moss and naomi campbell. boys flocking to admire her beauty every time she arrives at school, but she rejects them because they’re sometimes too pushy or even have a mindset of men in the golden age of hollywood—seeing her as an object that they seek to own. and she is so pissed to hear that.

a charm in the shape of a heart is going to represent your second oldest sister, jiwoo.

she has always been a lovable and positive child who loves to make people happy, sometimes clumsy, but she always tries to pass it as comedy. well, mama didn’t accept that at all as she has to be "proper, poised, and perfect." she always complains about that, being perfect when all she wants is to be different, especially since she came out to all of her sisters that she is a lesbian, a sapphic who loves anything woman and anything unique about a woman. you can always guess the girl she has a crush on by the subtle change in her gaze when they glance at them, but underneath that she has still seen to be friendly with the boys—the subtleness was gone in an instant when they interact with them flirting with her, the same look she has while rubbing her skin of the places they touch on her skin as hard as she can.

a silver butterfly-shaped charm is perfect for chaewon.

you’ve always thought that chaewon is a soul reincarnated from a beautiful and jovial fairytale. a fairy living in the deepest part of the forest who befriends every animal she can find. she wears the most regal but plain dress she could use from those hand-me-down gowns from mama. she also always greets her flowers every time she arrives back home from school, watering them and talking to them—like a butterfly spreading pollen to let the flowers grow. no wonder she is mama’s favorite daughter, her perfect mini-me. despite that, she is the one that breaks first from the intense amount of scrutiny. the unhealthy ways mama pressures her create her dislike of her own body, especially in facing the other people at school who look at her as the ditzy sister out of the five.

no other charm should be for hyejoo other than the moon.

hyejoo has always been a boundary pusher. she pushes for equality and eliminates activities assigned to a specific gender. mama always never allowed her to cut her hair short even to shoulder-length; that’s why she has so many hair ties on her wrist and in her bag. she has always been athletic, even tackling boys that have degraded her in volleyball in p.e. class. the teachers always acknowledged her skill as an athlete but not the students, especially jocks who presume she is doing it to steal their position. and yet, you can always see how sunken her eyes are every time she goes home with the sleeping pills she brought in her gym bag. the fight she has to defend a girl’s pride to do anything brought up every time she rebels on mama’s order, resulting in her being the one most scrutinised and under watch to do anything feminine; the reason she is the only one between the five of you to still being pushed in doing ballet.

for yourself, you pick a star.

you never knew how you would describe yourself when you always knew how you describe your sisters. sooyoung is the seductive one. jiwoo is the sweet one. chaewon is the regal one. hyejoo is the rebel one, then what about you?

you were always the one that tries to find yourself the most. all of your sisters have a counterpart to a famous character from a movie or a book, but you are an outsider. out of the five, you’re the one that is intelligent and always able to blend in with every sister. if sooyoung is the rock that everyone leans on, you’re the conch shell they can always hear to find comfort. a star is something so bright yet so dangerous, like the sun that is nearest to you. but, you’re the one that sparkles at night because you like to stay behind. you like to be unseen; you like to be different by playing classical guitar, listening to rock songs that mama doesn’t acknowledge—though she listens to elvis presley from time to time, and spending time after school while waiting for your sisters doing after-school clubs to cruise to the music store and discover any artists you can, even buying a discman from your savings and get a lot of cd mixes by the woman that founds the store who tells you her story of when she was a punk kid back in her youth.

as all of you sat at the table, sooyoung gave the anklets. sand grazes your feet as you gaze at the crowded beach with the backdrop of the sun going to sleep for the day. all of you settle on a promise. a promise sacred to all of you as you glimpse all the scars visible on your body: sooyoung with the light bruise on her neck, jiwoo and her scratch marks on her forearms, chaewon with her bandaged wrists, hyejoo and her sunken eyes, and you with your cigarette burns hidden on your thighs.

“no matter what, we cannot take off the anklet on our foot.” your oldest sister declared, followed by the nods and agreements voiced.

all of your stand up as you both create a circle, putting your right foot where the anklet sits to the middle, joining toes together. you look at all four of your sisters as they let out chuckles before jiwoo pushes the ones beside her forward as all of you follow to connect your head together.

a sister’s bond with each other. no one is left behind.

when you move away—putting your belongings in the truck—you can see the sadness and shock on each of your neighbors’ faces. giving a solemn smile, you turn away to see a few cars a few houses away and a few heads you recognized. boys that admired you and your sisters in your high school, all seem to not be willing to let you go.

boys look at you like they all do towards your sister, but the reaction to you is different. sooyoung replies in a flirtatious way. jiwoo replies in a friendly way. chaewon speaks timidly. hyejoo always taunts them back. while they never dared to approach you—turning their head away as fast as they can to avoid your view. though you know they want you like they want your sister, so unless you approach, they won’t act.

you remembered one boy in your first year who you approached. his parents used to be hippies and he got influenced by their culture—you used to think maybe a part of that could you help find your true self. he was the one who introduce you to smoking cigarettes: now a pass time for you and hyejoo to let out stress. you didn’t go out with him again when you found he already had a girlfriend from a girl who sends a message to you about his behavior and other victims. since then, you’ve only gone out with someone who you deem worthy, but in the end, they always find troubles that help you stray away from them by themselves. your task was to approach those boys who admired you from far away or to break up with them when you can see the warnings. never have they sought you out first.

so it stunned you to know that a boy likes to stare at you and not easily turn away when you faced him.

your neighbor and classmate, taehyun.

you notice nothing particularly unique in taehyun with his first impression before, but you recall how he looks at you behind that glasses of his when his mom invites your family to dinner. then the encounter you had in the kitchen, confronting him on why he glances at you and your sisters more than the food in front of him. you thought your comment will stop him but he doesn’t give up. you could always outsmart him, already sensing that he is there just from the one month you and he become neighbors and classmates. you can sense his gaze on you and your sisters as you change your uniforms to something you all like rather than a uniform that is uniformed with the other kids. you can always notice every time you hung out for lunch with your sisters outside every time he walks past you with his friend kai.

with that proof, you experiment.

first with park sunghoon. the so-called ice prince who is practically obnoxious, knowing his face will win him anything as he always proudly shows his features and genetics from his b-list actor dad and pageant-winner mom. you only approached him at lunch and he already thinks you want to date him. you didn’t even last a week with him when he suddenly asks for sex, which you deny and let go of immediately. he tries to save face at school later to repair his pride by your lockers when you blatantly open up on how he cannot respect a person’s choice, not failing to notice the subtle smirk shown on taehyun’s lips as he sees you openly speak up on your year’s famous guy.

the second experiment is with nicholas wang. a biker kid at school who joins a biker gang along with college students. he’s a more subtle version of obnoxious, thinking that every rule has to bend for him. he is almost like sunghoon but they use something different from each other. you and he last for more than a week, but the reek of alcohol on him just disgusts you. he sometimes brought you home with his bike that has the loudest engine, as if someone in your neighborhood just wants to show off their ferrari maranello down the street. one day when he brought you home—acting as a good “girlfriend”—you kiss his cheek before he left with his loud engine down the street. you knew that day you wanted to cut off from him when you feel how wobbly he rode the bike and you were behind him. you rather die on your account than because of him.

when he turns the corner away from your street, you pull out the cigarette box from your backpack and pick a stick to put between your lips. grabbing the lighter you have in your pocket, you turn the spark wheel and press down as the flame ignites, quickly shoving the end of the cigarette to burn it, puffing in the smoke and letting out as you try to clean the taste of the biker boy away. with your driveway empty and your house also, you stood outside the front lawn smoking away the stick. flicking the ash away as it falls on the pavement, you let your eyes wander around the neighborhood and the houses in it. the house of the young couple that just has a baby before turning to the house in front of you when you can see from a particular window, a silhouette of a boy.

taehyun.

he always has his sheer curtain covering his window from time to time, but it seems that he is lazy to widen it this hour. you can see him wearing his uniform shirt but with buttons open, showing his undershirt beneath it. you let your eyes gaze at his toned body that you never notice underneath his shirt and burgundy sweater. it stayed that way until he realizes that you notice him, dashing forward to the window yet not instantly closing the curtain. you took a huge puff, letting the smoke out as taehyun’s eyes were still on yours, before letting the cigarette fall to the pavement you are standing on. your leg instinctively crushes the stick beneath your shoes as you let out a smirk at him who looks at you before turning around. the only time, taehyun noted, that the cigarette you smoke didn’t burn halfway from the original length.

a month has passed since school started and it didn’t take too long for the excitement of homecoming to spread across the school as people asks to be each others’ date. you and your sisters quickly avoid the topic all together as mama prepares you all for a ball you have to join at the end of the year instead. sooyoung didn’t believe just how wide your family’s connection is until the real-life fact of your mama leaving you five behind to take care of the new home not even five days pass from moving in. it is a habit of hers to be such a socialite first, but never a mother first.

sooyoung and hyejoo mention 'school dance' once at the dining table—a once-in-a-blue-moon time when both of your parents are home—before mama then mentions how all of you aren’t allowed to go. you and your sisters turn towards papa who just shrugs his shoulder before you give an exasperated look to jiwoo sitting across you, replying with a sad small smile. something you knew would happen but still tried anyway.

the plucking continues as you move to sit in the circle after the movie ends, seeing chaewon rewinding the tape of the movie back with a pencil while sooyoung and jiwoo talk about homecoming as if they’re the ones going.

“who would you go with anyway?” hyejoo cuts them off as sooyoung turns her head towards her younger sister.

“juyeon,” she said coolly as all of you turn your heads toward her.

“the quarterback?” hyejoo asks as sooyoung nods. jiwoo’s smile on her face as she shrieked and nudge your shoulder, the guitar creating a weird clank as you pouted whilst facing her. she answers by caressing your head as you let out a big eye roll jokingly, making chaewon chuckle beside you.

“i wanna go with gyuri from theatre.” jiwoo said as your eyebrows lifted while mouthing “i knew it.”

“of course you do. we can see that enamored look you have every time she walks by. mama wouldn’t allow it, though.” sooyoung answered.

“i know mommy wouldn’t,” she sighs as she stretches her arms, lifting them to the ceiling before putting them behind her and putting her weight on them. “but a girl can hope, right?” you hear your sisters’ chuckle combining with yours.

chaewon looks between the four of you as she cuts in while you’re quieting down. “i think if we can go, i would go with that boy in school whose mother is friends with ours.”

“you mean seungmin?” jiwoo mentions the boy’s name you recognize as part of the student council. your sister gives a sheepish nod before covering her cheeks with her palms. a habit you learned from her as she always does that since you were a toddler whenever she got shy or flustered.

you move to see hyejoo as she tucks her knees close to her chest, “hyejoo’s not going to join ri-“

“actually i may go. if we can.” the girl mentioned spoke as you pat her kneecaps, leaning forward with your guitar on your lap.

“no shit.” you exclaimed.

“yeah, it’s sooyoung and jiwoo’s last year, so i’ll go for the sake of them.” awws coming from the sisters before chaewon speaks up.

“you know, you’ll be a great couple if you go with sunwoo.”

you heard a gasp as hyejoo eyes widen and eyebrows furrowed, “kim sunwoo the boy’s football team captain a.k.a. my mortal enemy? not a chance.”

“but you mentioned to me a couple of times that he gave you the flirty eyes.” you join in as you see your triplet sister nod, “and you don’t taunt him all the time like the other boys you mention to us.”

“true.” jiwoo exclaimed before you hear hyejoo’s grunt as they now turn towards you, knowing the question that is already ingrained into all of your minds.

“honestly, i don’t know,” you said as you rub your fingertips against the strings, feeling the skin hardening because of your calluses.

“what about that nicholas guy?” jiwoo asks before sooyoung leans in and nudges her hand.

“she’s not with nicholas anymore. don’t you notice?” your oldest sister said as jiwoo acts up with a funny offended look on her face.

hyejoo asked, “what about that boy?”

tilting your head towards her, “what boy?”

hyejoo looks at all four of you as they glance at each other, nodding their heads while using their bond that they block you from because you didn’t understand who they were talking about.

“you know him, (y/n),” sooyoung said followed by a giggle.

“who?” you realized you sounded like an owl when asking, putting the guitar on the floor beside you.

even though it is just five of you, chaewon leans in and speaks lowly. “kang taehyun.”

kang taehyun.

the name that rings in your mind ever since you meet him, well, fading in and out behind the wall of music that is playing in your ear with your discman and headphones on.

the only boy that is brave enough to subtly pursue you, not shying away from the so-called intimidation you are exuding unconsciously.

“i- i don’t know really… maybe? i just don’t wanna scare him.”

“oh (y/n) darling.” jiwoo said as she caress your hand, “you don’t know how many times he has gazed at you like you’re an angel that has fallen from the sky. he will not be scared by you.” your eyebrows move as your eyes blink, thinking about what your sister said as they all converse more about their future dates if you all could go with you. leaving you alone, wallowing with the thought of the boy from across the street.

that’s when you realized a spoken rule mama mentioned ongoing to any dance event by the school. she has talked about it before when you and your triplet sisters have just started high school.

“all of you must have a date to go. mama won’t like it if any of her daughters embarrassed her with no one by their sides.”

deep down inside, it’s the first time you notice your mama catch something about how the five of you interact with boys and use them against it. as if she knows that with your personality that varies from sibling to sibling, you won’t find a date for all five of you. one will always be left behind.

but you want to make a great memory with your sisters. you want to seep into the smallest frame of freedom you have just for half of the day. you want your older sisters to feel like teenage girls before they become an adult. you want everyone to experience what a girl in high school should experience. finding self. finding friends. finding moments that turn into memories. finding love.

it could all start with homecoming. you could think of something to get your sisters the partners they want to go with for homecoming. but as a newcomer, you have to have someone who can show you the school and the people in it.

you know someone who can help you.

-

gripping onto the strap of the backpack on his shoulder, taehyun lets out his breath in a huge yet silent whoosh. the muscles on his arms ache from yesterday’s exercise at the club but dissipate as the length between that day gets longer to the present. his veins seems to protrude more because of it and the bandage tapes that were supposed to cover his hands only while training: stayed on his left hand, wrapped around his thumb and along his palm as he can feel how the nerve signal of pain moves along thin wires to his brain every time he moves it slightly.

taehyun pushes his glasses up with the bandaged hand as he stands in front of his classroom door.

he’s standing there alone. no one at his side.

the door opens from the force of his healthy hand as eyes inside the room land on him, some were surprised, some are nonchalant—you were one of them. the nearest classmate from the door looks between him and the space beside him where his best friend should be standing. kai is not coming into class today. he just told taehyun he got a fever from the messenger window as he finishes his morning workout. he is not used to being without him at school. and other people also think like him too.

his eyes directly landed on yours, who sat at the very back with your headset on, covering your ears as he sees the corners of your lips twitching up. it lingers before you turn away towards the window, the right for him to walk to his seat a few seats away from you. he rubs his cheek against the sleeve of his burgundy sweater, stretching his head and neck while moving his knuckles, feeling the pain remains as he gets used to it. taehyun prepares his usual for today’s classes as the other students come in. the empty seat to his left is kai’s. he used to talk to him about random things, though kai is the more talkative one out of the two. and now, the bore is seeping through without his friend to talk to him beside where he sits.

he thought he could catch some sleep—the tiredness coming from the workout yesterday where he spar with his coach—and be able to rest his eyes and mind for a few minutes before the first bell rings. tilting his head to find the right position on the desk is when he sees the fabric of a familiar sweater.

“is this seat taken?” his ears perked and he turn to see the unexpected appearance.

you. your headset hanging around your neck as you’re holding your backpack in one hand while the other hand is holding onto your discman.

his eyebrows twitch in surprise before he shakes his head and says, “no.”

“okay. can i sit here?” you replied as you gently put your belongings down on the desk and beside it on the tiled floor. he sees a bit of hesitation in your movement before he gives a nod to you. the grip on your belongings loosen as they sat on where you put them before making yourself comfortable in your seat that was supposed to be kai’s.

while taehyun stays still—slowly turning his head to the front of the class—he can feel the warmth of another human being beside him and smell a hint of your eau de toilette. peeking, he sees you wrapping the headset around the discman before putting it in your bag on the floor. his eyes cannot stop rapidly looking at anything in front of him before he took another peek beside him and see you picking your nails that are resting on the connected desk. the two hands have different lengths for fingernails. one hand’s nails are longer than the other.

the teacher came into the class as all his classmates settled and class starts while taehyun sat in his seat, tense. his attention is on the teacher introducing the outline of today’s lesson, but his bandaged hand fidgets from a sudden contact from your own that is resting on the desk, mostly a light touch of a finger against his bandage. yet, taehyun still can’t believe that it’s real. he didn’t realize how his glasses frame has slides down the bridge of his nose before pushing it up.

“hey…” his head turns to find yours slightly facing him. not even five minutes since class started, and he had already lost focus.

“homecoming is, well, coming. and i just want to ask.” you licked your lips before continuing. “do you have a date for it?”

a date for homecoming? no. nada. he didn't even consider coming to homecoming this year.

he went there before in his first year with kai when they want to see how the crowd goes. but, since they don’t have any dates, it gets boring as the night continues. he remembered the faces sucking on each other as they craved for one another. a few teachers were chaperoning, but all he could remember is seeing the sociology teacher making out with the p.e. teacher. he tried to mingle with a few of the other ‘outsiders’ who attend, but they don’t click with him and kai. so, when prom comes at the end of the year, he rather played on his nintendo 64 with kai than go to another dance that will not be productive for him at least—and he wants to do the same for homecoming this year.

but the way you question him about it is intriguing to him, earning a slight tilt as an indirect response…

“i don’t.” he heard you hum after it whilst nodding your head, a slight smirk forming.

“then, if you’ll go, who would you want as a date?”

taehyun’s eyes enlarge as he can feel the warmth creeping onto his cheek before looking elsewhere. the teacher that is writing on the board, his classmates—who he knows are dating—are cuddling with one another in their seats, and his other classmates that sat at the back were playing with their game boy consoles.

yet, your query creeps in once again before an image of the five girls that have everyone wrapped around their fingers shows up, the faces all blurry except one.

“you.”

he caught a gasp beside him as he faces to see your wide eyes and palm-covered mouth. your hand trails down from your lips to your chest where your heart resides. “i’m flattered.”

huh?

taehyun scramble in his seat—but as discreetly as possible—as he barely realized he spoke out. he spoke out about wanting to have you as a date. his date.

fuck…

he was just trying to talk to himself when he spoke out. why would his mouth let out the word? why would he-

“well, we could go together.” his head whipped to face you, eyes moving all over the place as he doesn’t want anyone to notice how he reacts.

is taehyun dreaming? did you just say you want to go with him to homecoming? no chance, right? you could go with sunghoon, nicholas, or any other guy. you have everyone wrapped around your fingers. yet, you consider him?

“but i have a favor for you, well for us actually.” the touches of your hand gently caress his bandaged hand, lightly with no pressure. he sees you moving your upper body closer to him. your eyes glisten like a starlight at night. he can’t see the cracks clearly, but the way your pupils tremble is still a sign that there is something you are trying to hold back. your fingertips resting on top of the bandage as you pursed your lips.

“i want me and my sisters to go to homecoming this year. but my ma said that we can only go if all of us have a date. we talked about who we want as dates and i want to help them.” you lean back with a small pout on your lips, arms wrapped in front of your upper body. his eyes landed on your lips as your tongue gives a small lick before a light bite.

“as a new kid, i don’t think i’m familiar enough with these people. and there is where you come in.” the palpitating of his heart didn't stop when you looked at him again.

“i want to ask for your help to get their ideal date. would you help me-���

“yes.” he didn’t hesitate. taehyun’s trance falls out as he returns to looking around the class instead of you, hearing your chuckles from such a fast response.

“that’s swell. then, we can talk more during lunch.” he returns to you as you tilt your head, chin nudging towards the direction of your connected desk. “i don’t want to bother your studies.” you seem to finish the conversation.

he nodded and fixed his sitting position, grabbing the pen in his left hand, trying not to grip it so tightly as he wants it to heal. his eyes are anchored on the board in front of him, now full of the materials for today’s lesson whilst the teacher is explaining each pointer. taehyun felt like it was a blessing of his to know that one of the smart and active kids in his year is also in his class. both of them have a friendly rivalry for the highest overall score where they respect each other for it, and that includes participation scores. taehyun felt lucky the teacher focused on them, asking questions instead of wondering why taehyun didn’t ask any, distracted by having such an otherworldly being sitting by his side.

taehyun’s shoulder is tight when he can sense yours touching his. the chair moving beside him is unnoticeable before the light pressure’s touch. your body leans forward as both hands are on the desk, one writing and the other holding onto the notebook. the light on the ceiling gave a certain shine to your nails, highlighting how clean they look on both hands. your hair has fallen to your side, obscuring a few parts of your face from him. that’s when he noticed how your pinky finger rested on his bandaged hand. the fingernail is sharp enough that sometimes it caught onto the wrap.

he can’t push you away from his thoughts as the class continues, as another teacher comes in and teach another lesson, and as lunch finally comes.

when the bell rings, your chair scrapes the floor along with the others and you stood up to go outside of class as fast as lightning, leaving taehyun alone without no one to have lunch with. he thought you both will go together, but he remembered you never mention that to him, so he tidies up his desk and supplies on his part of the desk while seeing his classmates flocking out into the hallway and joining the herd. his vision lingers on the wide desk before focusing on your side to see how tidy you put your overwhelming pastel pink items when you knew the bell is about to ring. it contrasts with your plain dark grey backpack that is on the floor beside the desk.

taehyun can’t help but want to put it on your chair because anyone could accidentally kick it. that’s why he reaches out and grabs your backpack from the straps, not knowing its zipper is open, the blue discman catching his eyes’ attention.

the boy looks around the class to see no one now as they enjoy their lunch break. he couldn’t help it as he grabs your discman, the wrapped headset is now loose as he can pull the music player without tangling the wire yet it's connected in the port. the device is plain, blue with silver on its side, and the screen is a blank greenish hue as you preserve the battery of it. his attention sticks to the open button on the end of the row of buttons, genuinely interested in knowing the kind of music you hear as you seem to always be seen using it.

his thumb presses on the button and the lid opens, a plain silver cd attached inside with writings written with a marker—writing that is not yours from how he compares it with the written words in the notebook.

to my little pixie, y/n ☾

good luck with your new place and school, i will miss seeing you in the store - seulgi

cd mix #12 (‘88-‘95)

you made me realize - my bloody valentine

sweetness and light - lush

blue thunder - galaxie 500

doll parts - hole

tonight, tonight - the smashing pumpkins

...

taehyun traced out the writings on the burned cd, staring at the familiar formatting that forms three out of four sides of the circle, 15 song titles, and their artists with whom he mostly doesn’t recognize with a few scribbles on the last empty side. with the ones he does, he remembered the times when he caught his sister watching mtv and seeing the artists there, either their music video or their appearance on unplugged. looking at the number, the person must be so informed in music if they can make 12 cd mixes with 15 songs each on average.

he stares at the desk across from the seat as he recalls how your hand grazes his, most touching his bandage but some on his skin. though mostly the pinky, he can feel roughness and texture from its tip. combining with how you used to pick on your fingernails, he associates the texture from that small graze also with the calluses that are forming on his knuckles.

closing the lid of the discman, he realized he spend too much time wondering things where your words cross his mind again. he puts the music player inside the backpack—not forgetting to plug in your headset once again and wrap them around it as best as he can—and zips the backpack up as it leans against the back of the chair like his own.

the boy’s feet walk on the empty room and the mostly vacant hallways as he buys lunch he will eat whilst meeting you. he always sat at the seat near the front of the school at lunch with kai and it was near the tree you usually are at with your sisters, but there might be a reason you pick that specific brick wall.

hands holding onto the food package in his hands along with a water bottle, taehyun strolls along the main field of the school, seeing some jocks from differing teams of sports hanging out either at the field or on the bleachers. his feet brought him to the familiar place you told him as he sees faint grey clouds floating up. the boy looks at the source: you sitting on the graveled path, upper body leaning against the wall, a cigarette between your fingers as flick it to let the ash fall.

you turn your head to the sound of the gravel, looking up to see taehyun in his burgundy sweater, his glasses’ bridge fallen near the button of his nose, and his lunch in both of his hands. a small smile forming from your lips as you spoke while a light smoke flows out, “took you long enough.”

“the line is pretty long so that's why,” he replied, letting out the latest truth and no other reason why he took a long time. you give a nod before patting the space beside you.

taehyun slowly sits down beside you, following you by leaning his head against the vertical supporter. he could feel how his body is stretching and how relieving it is for his spine as he can faintly hear the cracking sounds that are from a layer that sticks two bones with one another that he learned from biology class that was discussing anatomy. his eyes stick onto your empty lap, the blue plaid uniform skirt resting on your knees.

“you’re not eating?”

“i already ate lunch with my siblings. that’s why i went out of the room so fast. chaewon is the one that holds onto our lunch boxes as she distributes them. so i don’t have any pocket money.” you said before sighing. “ma doesn’t even allow us to buy food outside the ones she made for the house.”

taehyun looks at his food on his lap, wandering between it and you as you take another puff from the cig between your fingers. the smoke slowly floats and dissipates into the air, the scent of it combining with the eau de toilette he smelled when you sat beside him. the mention of your mother reminds him of when he last saw her. though she looks nice, your words are contradictory. also with the fact that you and your sisters change your uniforms, the all-day disappearing presence of your parents’ cars usually appeared near midnight when he was talking with kai or his club friends.

his eyes return to his cooling food before deciding to eat it. you turn your head towards him as you glance down at the food, a certain melancholic look in your gaze before you blink it away.

“i’m going to tell you more about the plan, okay?” you let out the smoke when speaking, and the boy hummed to reply.

when he hears your plan for the homecoming, he realized how meticulously you spoke and think. taehyun’s perception of girls was pretty obscure, other than his mom and his sister. not that he is intimidated by them, but he spends more time with boys. the girls he sees in the rom-com movies he watched with his sister didn’t help either—how they are portrayed as ditzy and more as a desirable character for the main protagonist who is mostly a guy. he realized that the characters he knows are one-sided, the same as when people perceiving both you and your sisters. yet as he heard you talk, speaking about how detailed you talk about your sisters’ dream date and how you have a plan to approach him, the perception slowly moves for the better.

he hated how he thought so before. because they are people. and people are complex.

“so, sunwoo from football, juyeon from the other football, gyuri from theatre, and seungmin from the council?”

“yeah.”

“then how about you?” he said as he eyes on the only folded finger on his hand. though he focused on your words and accepted your favor, he can’t help to think that you were ‘using’ him. even with the light threat that you gave him—more of a warning rather than a threat actually—he still always notices you and you notice him. he always sees how sometimes clench your hands into fists, the knuckles of the white bone pushing up to the surface of your skin, sometimes rubbing your eyes with them.

he wants to reach out. but your mysterious and unpredictable aura stopped him. that’s why he grabs the opportunity when it’s proposed to him. how he felt sorry if you have your own dream dat-

“my dream date is you,” you said before clearing your throat, the hand holding onto your cigarette is now pushing the stick onto the gravel between the two of you before you buried it by the brick wall with the gravel, obscuring the white outer layer. taehyun’s eyes widen as he puts away the empty container and bottle on either side of him.

“i’ve been going out with a few people. i’ve tried to ever since i rebelled against my ma. but no one clicks with me. i guess i picked you because you were the only boy i met in other circumstances besides school. maybe that sense of familiarity is why it came to me that you’ll be a fine date.”

the boy views you moving closer to him, how your skirt grazes his pants as both you and he faces the sudden wind blowing with your sweaters, making you shrug your body against his. he pushes his glasses up as he turns his head towards you, biting on your bottom lip as you stayed in contact with his own vision.

he sees your shoulders rise before saying, “i know we stepped out on the wrong foot back when i ate dinner at your house. i was insecure with us moving here and some…” you let out a chuckle. “shenanigans happening in my home life.”

he trails along the features on your face before focusing back on your eyes. the haunting cracks in it is still there but no trembles. no tremble when you stayed to look at him.

“so we have a truce, i guess?” you let out a pinky from your hand as he can’t help but let out a small smile, making you let out your own before he slots his own between yours.

“a truce.”

the bell rings at the right time as you tried to stand up using your own might and core muscles. taehyun lets out a giggle before he realized he can’t support himself to stand up if he doesn’t want to hurt his empty left hand.

that’s when he sees you leaning down to grab his half-filled bottle before wrapping both of your hands around his wrist as you drag him up, his legs a bit stumbling as you still hold on to his wrist before you notice and let go.

“let’s,” you said whilst tilting your head and you walked together through the sprawling hallway into your class.

when you both arrived at your classroom, he noticed you staring at your backpack on your chair before turning your head towards him who is sitting down.

“i don’t want your things being kicked so i put it up on the chair.” he explains as you mouthed a small “thanks” before sitting down beside him once again until the end of the school day.

kai is going to have a field day hearing about this.

-

it didn’t take long for you to be enamored by taehyun.

it sounds a bit cliché, but he’s different from all the boys you know. and the number of boys you know is limited, knowing the restrictions you’ve gotten throughout your life.

before you asked him, you had thought about it. realizing that when pursuing each and every dream date your sisters want with him, it will noticeably get you two close. but you didn’t realize how fast it was going to be.

it started when you both tried to approach juyeon—the one who is easiest according to him as you’ve told him that the senior is very much attracted to your sister. “just a small nudge,” taehyun said to you, is needed to let the senior learn you can help him get a chance to go on a date with your sister to homecoming. and that’s what you do.

“hello, juyeon.” you confidently approach the senior, a burning sensation on the back of your head as you glimpse behind you to spot taehyun a few steps away.

the senior holds the ball in his hand as he turns to you. a few of his teammates stop and are stunned to look at you—knowing your presence compared to your sister is that you are the “unapproachable” one.

“moon (y/n), what makes you come here to the field?” you detect the smirk formed on his face while fixing the pads on his upper body.

“i was wondering if you have a date for homecoming yet.”

“oh!” you heard him exclaimed as the smirk turns into a grin, trying to make you entranced by him as many people did. but you can see a genuine surprise and concern as his face subtly portrays. “many have approached me but i don’t feel like it. though if i could go with either of the five moon sisters, that’ll be great.”

“that’s great.” another voice comes in beside you. you don't need to face him to recognize who they are.

“we actually have a plan for you to go with one. specifically, the oldest.” taehyun nudges the proposal to the senior as he looks at both of you. as you stood beside one another, both of your hands graze each other.

“sooyoung?” juyeon wanders his eyes away before giggling to himself. “okay. does your sister know?”

“she doesn’t, but it’s a surprise. you can do any kind of proposal you want to her. she’ll be happy any other way.” as you peer at taehyun, you let out a smile and he does the same.

seungmin is a harder approach as he’s always busy but kai, who is mysteriously acquainted with everybody, gets him to meet you, taehyun, and himself during lunch—after you ate your lunch because you don’t want your sister to be suspicious of you.

“hey kai. why do you ask me- oh hey, taehyun!” seungmin then moves his head while noticing all three of you. “and (y/n), what a pleasant crowd we have here.”

“it just happens.” kai replied with a gleeful smile. “come sit.” he pats the empty spot on the bench beside him, facing you and taehyun on the other side.

“as you know, homecoming is around the corner…” taehyun starts before lightly tapping your hand on the table. you cleared your throat before continuing.

“and as a family friend of mine, i would really like it, if you’re available, to go with chaewon.” your statement causes him to raise his eyebrows, making you chuckle. “i assume that since you talk to her all the time when our family met up that you are close to her. i’m trying to make her happy after… what happened…” you give a somber look that only you and seungmin could understand while you catch kai and taehyun talking with each other using non-verbal gestures; a few shrugs are exchanged between them.

“of course. seeing as your sister has been such a lovely person to me, i could do that.” you raised your eyebrows as the corner of your lips lifted, facing away as you held on to your beam. “does she know you’re doing this?” you whiffled your head after seungmin’s questions. your hand on your lap unconsciously moves to the tiny space between you and taehyun as his leg lightly jumps from the encounter, making you shift towards him in surprise and you retract your hand.

but, he held onto your hand. not letting you pull away from him.

gyuri practically lives in the auditorium. the mirror with lightbulbs around its frame is where she sits as she tried on the costume she’ll be using for the play. that’s when she sees you from the reflection in the mirror, approaching her.

“hi (y/n). it’s a surprise to see you here. can i help you?”

“i, uh… want to ask a few questions.” you watch her turning around to face you, attentively listening to your next words. “i don’t know if it’s just me that has noticed it, but do you have any attraction towards my sister, jiwoo?”

your question makes her lean her head back on the chair, squinting her eyes in suspicion as she looks at you before letting pit a sigh, “how can i not be attracted to your sister?” you see her smile, “she’s… the sweetest girl i’ve ever met.”

“you’re in luck because she’s attracted to you too and…” you step closer to her, “i was hoping that you’re available to go to homecoming with her? i know the situation isn’t as ideal as you want. but my friend has an idea for his friend to be the cover-up date for her so you and she can meet up here at school.”

you explained taehyun’s idea of making kai jiwoo’s “date” when he’ll pick her up at your house along with your sisters. kai doesn’t have a date and doesn’t want to have a date, but when taehyun talks to him about helping you, he agrees and you don’t know how he agreed that fast. you assumed the boy needed more convincing, but taehyun found the right words and a great explanation for him to agree, or maybe he is as loyal to taehyun as you are to your sisters.

“i will contact you after i get out of the costume. your classroom is on the second floor, right?” gyuri’s eye smile as she sees you nod before you left the backstage area.

going out of the dark auditorium to the school’s main hallway, you see taehyun leaning against the wall in between lockers. he bent his head at you with a small smile as you give him a thumbs up, both of you walking away while discussing random stuff to spend your free time with as the teacher can’t teach for the class period.

sunwoo was the hardest to approach. the sayings by hyejoo on how the boy’s football team hated her stuck into your mind when you tried to approach him for your joined p.e. class in the indoor court. the two classes are playing dodgeball together. sunwoo is the prime target for your class to hit and they, indeed, succeed when they got him out. so it’s the perfect opportunity for you—who got out while defending your classmates—to talk to him.

“hi sunwoo.” your words catch the captain’s ear as he slightly faces you.

“hello, moon number 5.” you squint your eyes at the nickname as he continues, “here for something?”

“just not the way you think.” you regained your confidence as you sat on the empty long bleachers.

“it’s… can i ask you a question?”

he hummed while drinking from his water bottle. “go on.”

“what do you think of my sister?” your fingers playing with each other as you look between them and your schoolmates in front of you, throwing the balls as hard as they can to hit someone.

“which one?” he asked.

“number 4.”

“ah… hyejoo.” from the corner of your eyes, you can see him nodding his head. “i don’t know why she hates us but, not gonna lie, i’m alright with her.”

your hand covered your mouth as you recall her complains, perceiving it as she was too dense with her ideology. she is one of the stubborn ones, like you. you nod to tell the captain that you got what he spoke out.

you spoke in a serious tone “if that is so, i can tell you that hyejoo is attracted to you,” before you nudge your shoulder to his playfully.

“for real?”

“yeah, i can’t believe it myself. and she doesn’t have a date yet for homecoming. if you play your cards right, you might be going with her.”

you lean in closer so he can hear you, faintly saying something that is as close to the truth but not in the right frequency. recalling, in your mind, the people your sisters and you have rejected because you couldn’t go if you want to. the reason sooyoung asks mama again about school dances in the first place.

“my sisters and I are one of the most sought people for homecoming. we have been asked to be other people’s dates, but we’ve denied them because we want a specific person to ask. and hyejoo… well, she is waiting for you.”

sunwoo’s eyebrows rise as he looks at you, intrigued in his eyes before his head looks at the dodgeball players playing on the court, “i’ll think about that.”

you give a small smile to him before looking at the dodgeball people to see it’s a 1v3 where taehyun is the last player in your class. kai crawls towards you on the floor and sits against the bleachers you sat on top of. he gives you an unrecognizable expression as your gaze stays on him before the screams of your schoolmates catch your attention. you pivot your head up, seeing taehyun dodging the ball thrown by the other student as you see the other two walking to the side. he grabs the thrown ball, a burning look in his eyes.

the ball he threw hit the other student on the leg as he celebrates and your p.e. teacher blew the whistle. taehyun has a wide grin you’ve never seen before on his face as he turns to face you and kai who sat near each other, kai’s hollering to his best friend gain a laugh from you while you catch him looking at you, proud in his eyes as you give a smile, wider than usual. only for him.

when you got the news that the four dream dates of your sisters have asked them for homecoming, you didn’t expect their loud voices to bombard you when you enter your and your triplet sisters’ bedroom. hyejoo standing up near her bed—the farthest from yours and chaewon’s by the window that overlooks the street—as she looks at you with a sheepish smile and tells you how sunwoo asks her to homecoming at practice. her rambling comments about it make both sooyoung and jiwoo enter your room from their own across the hallway and chaewon’s footsteps climb up the stairs as even her small voice can combine with your sisters to create a dissonance yet beautiful harmony as you stood in the center of them.

“juyeon made this whole proposal before his practice with a bouquet i have in my room.”

“seungmin just give me a box of chocolate with a note near my classroom.”

“sunwoo and his crew created this bet where he and i do a cross-bar challenge and he asked me to go after he won. i wanna punch his teammates but i got the money anyway because he said so.”

“gyuri asked me out when i come out of home-economics class with a small box of eclairs. then, she said to talk to you after it, (y/n).” jiwoo’s head turns towards you as your other sisters followed. you nip the inside of your cheek as you tried not to giggle at your plan working, but a small snicker you let out causes the others to stare at each other.

“do you know anything about it, (y/n)?” your oldest sister asked as you can’t suppress it anymore, letting out the largest smile you have ever let out. an overwhelming joy that has been pushed down since you were a toddler.

“i do. i’m the one that approaches them so they ask you because i know all of you are too uptight to ask them by yourselves.” you snickers before looking down at your feet.

one-by-one, your sisters stride towards you and open their arms to envelop you from the steps on the floor. all of your body warmth combines to combat the cold and pain as you try your best to hug them with your two hands open as wide as you can. but, when you heard the cheers of your sisters, your beaming comes to a halt as your mind wanders to what your sisters said. sooyoung with flowers, jiwoo with eclairs, hyejoo with cash money, and chaewon with her chocolate. and just the act of them being asked instead of them asking their date.

while you don’t have none.

soon, they step back while giving a few ruffles on the head and a few kisses on it too, making you scramble out of their hold. chaewon’s stare lingers on you for a beat too long as you see her concerned gaze at you.

“how about you?” chaewon asked. the only one who noted that you aren’t as excited as they are. your smile falls to its resting position as pouted your lips, thinking of the right words to tell them.

“i’ve signaled taehyun, but he has made no moves yet.”

are you jealous because your sisters are the ones getting asked? yes. do you wish taehyun will automatically recognize your signals? not really. though he is a smart boy, taehyun sometimes gets too tense when you are around. he clammed up verbally and physically, as it feels like you have a spell that is only affecting him. with how both of you planned to approach each of your sister’s dates, you recognized something coming out of your neighbor every time you look at him or near his presence.

admiration and determination.

you hoped that what he exudes transfers to you as well so you can execute your plan that you have thought about very thoroughly afterwards—involving both he and you. but now, in the bask of your sisters’ joyfulness. you can only hope he will notice and make you more sure.

homecoming was more than a week away when the principal asked for your year to do a joined class in the auditorium as the last class of the day. after having a small smoke break and not forgetting the binder you brought from class, you walked as the sweater paw from your striped sweater dusted the ashes that might have fallen from the cigarette you were having to your blue-plaid skirt. walking into the auditorium, you identify that they’re playing an animal documentary while hearing the narrator narrate—glad that you aren’t terribly late as it starts with the usual nature shot before closing in on the animal. your eyes are searching for the recognizable head with protruding glasses that promised to keep a seat for you before you spot him, who is also looking around, agitated.

when taehyun notices you, he pats the seat while you nod your head with a small smile, saying a small apology for the people you disturb before arriving at the seat and sitting down on it. you sat beside him once again in class today when he came in without kai, saying that he has a family wedding he has to attend. you observe the ocean of heads beneath you that you seat pretty high up and not at the center of the room, slightly to the edge near the speaker that is playing the sound of birds chirping and gushing of wind.

your shoulder touches taehyun’s as you lean your arm on the armrest that is connected to his. the binder you’re holding is on your lap with your other hand. you stare at the projection on the curtain of a peacock showing his colorful furs. from where you both at, you can hear both of your breaths beside each. a gentle touch on your hand. the air of the air-conditioned room getting warm.

“as we see, the peacock opens his train. the beautiful blue, green, yellow furs ruffling as he tries to get the attention of the peahen.” said the narrator.

looking down at the armrest, you can recognize the bandage he wrapped on his left hand once again as yours rest next to it. his hand looks like it almost falls from the armrest with just a slight nudge, but your lingering fingers near his make his own move, sneakily approaching your own before moving back. the edge of your nails creates a small scratching noise from the bandage only you and him can hear. when you peer at him, his head is not moving away from the screen. your hand paused when something slips between it and your body’s side, the bandage now up against your palm as he locks his fingers with yours, which you reciprocate back.

“but the peahen has choices. she can see what humans couldn’t. the right mate. we can only describe beauty to any peacock’s train. yet, the peahen is the one that can see and choose who she wants to mate with.”

your fingers loosen as you angle your head to the hand. taehyun takes a quick peek at it also, peering at you with a tense gaze before returning to the screen that light the dark auditorium. you sense something burning on your lower part and something flowing down there too, squeezing your thighs as best as you can from the tingling. the comprehensive sex education class you took before helps in knowing what it’s called. arousal.

even if your sisters have mentioned sex, the taboo, and the importance of it in one’s relationship; indulging in it is never an option. you remembered your sex-ed teacher teaching about masturbation and arousal. even though you wanted to try to relieve it when you sense it, the only time you can is in the bathroom and it takes too long for you as you’ve heard the knock on the door where you just start caressing the nub that the teacher said is called the ‘clitoris’. all the time you perceive the same burning, it’s just plain arousal for the sake of it coming to you, but it came not from thinking about the sex—because you never have thought about someone like that before.

until taehyun comes into your mind.

taehyun seems to let you play with his hand, as he didn’t bother to stay looking your way. but you were already a step forward when you pick his hand up and rest them on your upper thigh near where your underwear is. the binder is the perfect cover to press down on your other thigh so the girl sitting beside you doesn’t notice how the fabric on the other side is lifted slightly.

you see taehyun turns his head as quickly as he could without bothering anyone, while you press his hand on your skin. his eyes widen as the glasses on his face fall. you can’t help but lean in as you chuckle at his subtle expression and push the frame up to its place before whispering into his ear, “keep looking forward. we don’t want anyone to notice, do we?”

“you want it?” he whispered, asking you as a small smirk grew on his face.

“yeah, you?” you bit your lip while waiting for his answer.

you felt his hand wiggle in your grip as he trails his fingertip down the edge of your underwear. “of course.”

the boy turns his head once again to the front as you followed his action, and also, your hand was bringing his to your clothed core. a small inhale coming from you as you help his fingertips make circles on the fabric.

“when the peahen have chosen the right mate. the peacock will do his little dance, gaining the attention of the peahen.” you see the peacock dance with his train.

your hand lets go of taehyun’s who is rubbing your clothed core, feeling the unrest building up down there. what you didn’t expect was for him to slide the underwear to one side as you can feel the air meeting your naked core beneath your skirt and the bandage on his hand contacted the surrounding skin—making you feel the roughness on it that creates chills running down your spine. your breath hitches as you look to the front, sensing two fingers of his moving up and down on your slit before one moves in between the lower lips to find your nub. when he founds it, your empty hand held his pointer finger, stopping him from moving as you can hear your heart beating so fast.

turning your head, you see taehyun looking towards you with something different in his eyes. not the admiration and determination he always gives, seeing it glance down to your skirt-covered lap before to your eyes again. with that slight gesture, you let his hand go as he rubs the clit he found. you were holding on to your breath so you can breathe out as stable as possible, but that weird yet satisfying feeling doesn’t make it better. nibbling your lower lips, you let taehyun play with you. your eyes are more aware of the surroundings so you can relieve your arousal with his help.

a breeze is blowing to your ear and you can’t help but move your head when you felt the tickle. his hand continues and alternates between the clit to rubbing up and down to the entrance, feeling the warmth relieve you of the coldness of the dampness. your head moves as you see his glasses frame near the side of your face, warm air on your ear.

“you are trouble, pixie.”

you tried to hide your surprise at hearing the nickname you haven’t heard since you move here. seulgi was someone who introduced you to the music colors that you listen to today. pixie is what she would like to describe, and by all means, your sisters also as she called the collective “the pixies“—not relating to the band, as she likes to joke. you remembered she define pixie as your and your sisters’ nickname because of how mischievous you are from the stories you told her of your and your sisters’ shenanigans. the coincidence of taehyun calling you that same nickname is jarring, and yet you felt another wave of arousal coming at it builds up.

and that is when you realize he knows. he knows you. your so-called threat to him you spoke before at his home is now crumbling right in front of both of your eyes. you thought it is enough. you thought you don’t deserve his attention. but he stays around, no matter how passive you are before you approached him.

there are so many things he won’t understand about you and your sisters as a collective. but there are so many things he is trying to understand about you.

and now he understood.

when the lights of the auditorium turn on, taehyun pulls his hand out of your underwear right as the teacher’s words are heard from the speakers. your hand tidies your skirt as you see taehyun looking at his pointer and middle finger, a slight gleam on his fingertips because of you. you both stayed in your seat to wait for everyone to go out of the room when you pivot to catch him took a slight lick on his middle finger only you both can look. when he pulled his finger out of his mouth, you didn’t hesitate to grab his pointer finger and also gave it what he did. tasting the slight tanginess that has come from you. taehyun’s gaze on you remains as the piercing aura coming from it slowly dissipates. as he knows understood you, you can’t help to want to understand him more.

“are you free after school? i don't know what to do with my sisters doing their after-school activities.”

you remembered that there was no gig in the usual places you go to. you are waiting to watch a new law and order spin-off that is airing tonight. so whilst you wait, isn’t it a great time to know the boy that you are genuinely intrigued by?

“not really. i have a boxing training session at a gym downtown.”

‘so that’s why he’s buff and wearing a bandage on his hand.’ your hearing is bustling with the sound of people conversing with each other as they walk on the carpeted floor on the main aisles. taehyun tilts his head to the side while fixing his glasses.

“i could go with you. if it’s okay,” you replied, not wanting to give up. yet, his enlarged eyes seem to make you think he didn’t expect that. you view as his eyes move between your own, to his bandaged hand which he just caresses you with, then back to your face but now lingers longer at your lips.

“sure. shall we?” he offers his hand as you accept, walking back to your classroom to grab your belongings.

on the bus, you sat in the two-seater with taehyun beside you. you used to ride the bus alone, standing by the priority seat as its unofficial defender, staring into the eyes of the people who is not in the priority category who sat there in a scrutinizing way, and even helping an elder or a woman with her baby to keep their seats empty. when you ride with your sisters, you all like to stand by the exit door as it gets easier to step off and not be left behind. so, it’s the first time you ever sit on the seat when taehyun brought you into the fairly empty bus.

outside the window, you look at the buildings moving in the opposite direction. a few of the signs of a cafe or a pub you have gone to watch a gig goes past you as the bus slows down near the stop where taehyun’s gym is supposed to be. his hand grip the strap of the bag when he stood up as you follow him, stepping down from the bus to walk a few meters. you both stood in front of a nondescript entrance between a corner store and a deli store where he guides you inside.

walking through a hallway with doors along the side, the space opens to a warehouse—the enormous space inside has two rings in the middle of the room, gym equipment placed on one side where there is a mirror wall and also a seating area resembling a smaller bleacher than the ones you see at school. by the looks of it, they have hosted many matches: banners about it with written years before 1999 are still hanging on the sides of the room. your eyes are not sticking to one thing, but you watch a pair training in the ring, a man and a woman with their proper sports attire.

“you can sit here.” taehyun brought you to the seating area, and he puts his backpack beside where you sat. you rub your sticky palm against your skirt as you gaze at the human bodies that if your mama’s here, she would, at once, cover your eyes. yet, when you see the muscles defined and the skin sticking to them, it fascinates you.

you didn’t realize when something is on your open palm on your lap. when you tilt your head down, you recognize a glasses with a thin frame, the lens is reflecting the shine coming from the exposed ceiling above you from the sun outside—the same shine that lights onto your anklet. your eyes squint. that means…

you looked up at the black-haired boy beside you as he rubs his hair before the side of his face, empty of his glasses. when you could finally his unobscured face, you observe how expressive his eyebrows are—combining it with his large eyes and nose.

he looks beautiful.

“i’m going to change clothes, alright?” your head lifts as he called to you. the way the sun shines on half of his face is making you look at him as something other than your classmate. almost like an actor in a movie you see with your sisters, a heartthrob that makes people could fall in love with him. yet, he’s not that. he’s more complex than that.

you give a small nod as he left to the hallway you went in from. the sound of rubber in contact with each other makes you turn towards the ring and observe the same man and a woman training. the woman is using the gloves to punch the flat surface of the man’s gloves: swinging from the side, from below, or straight at the torso. the light coming from above the ring shines a spotlight on them. you can see how defined their muscles are, like the deity sculptures you came across in one of the high-class parties your parents brought you and your sisters to. but, the marble carvings aren’t as dynamic as the way you look at them in real life. the human body is amazing; you thought.

your trance lasts for a while before it disappears as the two being in the ring stop their exercise. you study the man ruffling the hair of the woman before giving a small peck on her hair because of her smaller stature. your eyes gazed at the interaction, how they stare at each other with such adoration and seemingly push each other to be better, as exampled by the man helping her train. your eyes were on the woman as she approaches the other ring—a girl around her age at the side is warming her body up as she prepares to train. that’s when you picked up the man calling the name you recognized.

here he is. you spoke in your mind.

taehyun came from the other side of where you are; relaxed as he pass through the ropes. your eyes move to the pair on the ring when they wides as you realized taehyun has warmed up in shorts and a sleeveless grey shirt that is loose on his body, making you able to follow the ridges on his side, his muscles define but they have smoother parts to them. you still sense the weight on your palm as his glasses are still there. you gaze away from the boy to put it where he puts his bag beside you and you find his school uniform set folded beside his sweater, a t-shirt, and a towel. your eyes can’t wait to return to the ring when you can hear the wind being pierced as the gloves touch each other.

your neighbor is light on his feet, bouncing around the ring as his eyes give a certain gleam at the right time to make his move—like the one he shows back when your class did dodgeball. you once again fall back into a trance, but instead of focusing on the two people in the ring, you could only focus on one. watching him, you put your hand near your mouth, your fingers touching each other or your lips. sometimes it slips between the lips, letting you feel the calluses on your fingertips from your guitar playing. your teeth also didn’t fail in getting your body to rile up as you see taehyun spar, nipping your bottom lips as you see his body move.

though the sunlight isn’t as bright as before, the orange-hued spotlight gives a more fiery aspect to his exercise. your vision trails from the gloves on his hand along the expanse of his arm. the bulging of his biceps and triceps from each punch. that’s when you felt the dampness coming in between your legs, making you clench your thighs together again.

taehyun’s training flew by as you look at the man: his coach, stopping his stance and giving pats on the boy’s shoulders. his head sometimes turns towards where you’re sitting, but you guess it’s just his nerves signalling aches so it doesn’t stay in one place and moves to relieve it. you see them talking to each other before the man rattles taehyun’s body and they both nod their heads. taehyun gives a smile before stepping away from his coach and walking to your side of the ropes. his feet bounce after landing on the concrete floor from the raised ring.

he approaches you, biting the edge of his glove’s strap as he moves his hand to separate the velcro, and he does the same thing with the other glove as he let them fall out of his hands. the gloves land where his clothes are as he picks up the towel and cleans the sweat that is trailing down his arms.

“you must be bored,” he commented, your legs crossed with each other.

“not really. i learned a few new stuff while you train.” and i learned how great you look, you wanted to continue.

he lets out a small smirk as he rubs his hair and face with the towel, his face looking at the digital clock hanging by the hallway to show that the time is near sunset before he looks down at his shirt, “we should get you home.”

you followed his eyesight to the red lights before it trails back to taehyun, who reaches down to the end of his undershirt and pulled it up, making you pause every movement as you stare at his bare torso before he puts it on beside you: wiping the sweat that has formed on the skin with the towel. seeing the droplets of his sweat trailing down his defined abdomen muscles is breathtaking, obvious lines formed beneath his hips that are plunging to something underneath his shorts. you were so taken aback that you didn’t realize you were holding your breath until he put on his extra t-shirt before tying his burgundy sweater around his shoulders.

“taehyun.” your ears perked at his name being called to see the coach standing beside him, also cleaning himself up with a towel that is now hanging on his shoulder. “almost forgot your signature for the amateur tournament.” he gives out the clipboard to him. you see the boy putting on his glasses and signing on the piece of paper with the pen attached to the board. the coach gives out his farewell as taehyun zips up his backpack, all the unused clothes stuffed in the bag. you strap your own on your back as you walk to the hallway that leads you outside. you cough out from the chilly wind, feeling how dry your throat is, remembering the corner store beside it.

“can we buy something? i’m parched. maybe you too.” you turn around to face him as you walk backward, letting your backpack leaning against the door to push it. taehyun hurries and stabilizes the door before letting go as you both look at the stripe-patterned eave of the side of the corner store.

“of course.” he walks forward as you pivot your body and walk to the corner store where a few teenagers sit there on the table under the overhanging roof. your eyes gaze at them discreetly, seeing the boys and girls having fun together—a gloomy thought in your mind—as you heard the bell coming from the store’s door when taehyun pushes it open.

it is colder inside the store rather than outside, but your sweater helps you battle the sudden temperature change. both of you walk towards the beverage area where an entire wall full of fridges lines up. you stare at the various drinks available there as taehyun quickly grabs one that he wants before remaining at your side, shoulders touching each other's. coffee. tea. milk. yogurt. water. juice. your lips pouted as your mind wander on all the pros and cons of each beverage available, looking at the colorful packaging that has caught your sight, before picking up one from the shelf.

the breeze of the fridge meets your front as you pick up the drink. but when you turn around, you didn’t see taehyun.

your figure walks to peek at the six aisles in this corner store one by one from their entrance. maybe he might buy something to eat if he’s hungry after training. instant noodle is probably the best bet. yet, when you expect to find him standing by the savory foods, you found him in the sweets area, holding something in his hand.

“what you got there?” you asked. you thought it could surprise him as it did with your sisters, yet he turns his head gently, knowing that you’ll be searching for him.

he tilts his head as he lets you look at the packets. the packets with the name ring pop in two colors—red and blue—glimmer under the store’s ceiling light. you remember, when you were a child, your classmates ate this candy in class, recalling the rings that are too large on the fingers as they decorated all five of them—a dietary concern if you ask yourself right now. your nanny liked to give you all a discreet amount of sweets when she was alive because mama hated to buy sweets for the five of you. it got even worse when jiwoo got pretty addicted back then, resulting in her used to having a cavity in her tooth, making mama ban all sweets except for a limited amount of dark chocolate.

“which one do you like?” he asked, the way his glasses slid down his bridge, making you see how his eyes look with it and without it—even though only a small glimpse.

“what for?” you gnawed the inside of your cheek, letting out a small smirk.

“i noticed your sisters got a memento after their dates proposed to them for homecoming. though you’re the one that asked me first, not going to lie, i dislike seeing you without your own memento.” his words catch you by surprise as your eyes widen.

did he read your signal?

“i want to buy this for you. just as a reminder that you indeed have a date for homecoming.” taehyun answered so charmingly you felt his words trying to buckle your knees, but you hold your body well enough to not openly crumble in front of him; just that your own protection wall is crumbling for him. your hand hovers above his and you pinch the edge of the red packet, pulling it from his palm to grip it in your own. taehyun lets out a chuckle before putting the other ring pop into its place on the shelf as you both walk to the cash register. you said nothing when he pulls out his wallet and paid for all the stuff you bought. though if you want to pay him, you can’t. no pocket money, remember?

grabbing onto each of your purchases, you both walk out of the building to the bus stop as the dimming sunlight creates shadows that overhang the rest of the surrounding structures. the bus is nowhere to be seen when you both arrive and no one is at the bus stop as you both sit on the bench. you close the lid of the beverage you choose as it relieves your dry esophagus before hearing the scrunch of aluminum to your side. a glimpse of the plastic ring with a red candy at the top. your eyes glance at his hands that are meticulously opening the plastic wrap before he turns his body towards you. his backpack creates a sound from him moving while yours is leaning to your side on your other side.

“may i?” he questioned politely as you let out a giggle.

“you may,” you answered as he grab one of your hands in his, slowly sliding the ring candy on your middle finger. you discover how big the candy on the ring is as it covers vertically half of your pointer and ring finger. the dense, crystalized candy could reflect the light that is coming from the bulb above the two of you, making it glimmer the way a real diamond would.

“thank you, taehyun,” you replied. but, he hasn't let your hand go from him. that’s when he lifts the hand up and gives the candy a taste—reminiscent of what you had done to him in that auditorium that you thought was a long time ago. he envelopes the jewel-shaped candy in his mouth. a few seconds pass before letting it go, licking the bottom of his lip. in his eyes, you notice the teasing twinkle that you have seen jiwoo or hyejoo have. a payback for what you did in the room, still the feeling of his fingertips linger on your lips and on your lower part.

“great choice. it’s tasty.” your face hasn’t changed since his action as you gently pull the hand with the ring near your lips. giving it a light lick before fully focusing on the taste of strawberries that is more subtle than what you expected. your eyes glance at the ring before to taehyun, seeing the same demeanor on his face as what he gave to you in today’s last period. as you let your buds perceive the sweetness combined with a tinge of sourness, the boy reaches out to brush your hair away, tugging it behind your ears as best as he can.

you were looking elsewhere when you sense the warmth forming on your cheeks before it hovers—nearly touching—your cheek. with a piece of courage and confidence, you incline your head to face him as you feel his hand now cupping your cheek. his eyes look at yours before to your lips—you did exactly the same. slowly, you lean in closer, letting gravity lean you both forward as his forehead touches yours: your breath clashes with his.

your vision captured headlights when a silhouette of machinery comes into view with its grunting sound. you lean back from him as the bus arrives at the stop, seeing it crowded with people as you put on your backpack. taehyun followed you, slowly. when you climb onto the bus as a few people come out, you paused as you try to find any open space you can stand in before a hand reaches out to grab you. taehyun’s protruding veins are in your eyesight as he helps to guide you inside and found enough space for both of you. his hand reaches for the hanger on the top of the bus while you grab the pole near the exit in your free hand. it’s heavy when you tried to lift your held hand up, trying to give your ring pop another lick. when you see taehyun give you a squinting eye and slight pout that made you snicker. both of your hands tangled with each other the entire bus ride.

as the sun sets in your neighborhood, you walked on the pavement of your street, hand in hand. sometimes when you felt taehyun relax his hand, you move your tangled hand up with the ring pop and give it a lick as the solid sugary substance melts with the saliva; letting your buds savor the strawberry flavor once again. you view the neighborhood and the houses of the people who live around you, seeing a few kids riding their bicycles down the street. either they are waving at taehyun or gawking at you both before riding away. giggles erupt from your figure when you see their wide eyes, seeing their most obscured neighbor with a boy they know since they were little. you give taehyun a small look as he shrugs his shoulder, hearing the muffled jingling coming from your anklet that is resting above the sock you’re wearing as the streetlight helps it glow.

when you see the carpool of your house, it’s empty as it usually is. but, you let your eyes wander to the windows from across the street, the lights are on; your sisters are home. you turn towards taehyun, who stood with his house behind him. pouting your lips, you let out a small smile, reflecting on what happened today while glancing at the boy.

“thank you for today and uh… for allowing me to see you box.” taehyun’s chuckle is prominent before he slowly stops himself with a sheepish smile.

“thank you too. for going with me. i’ll have to scold kai for leaving me alone again.” his words earn a laugh from both of you and the tangled fingers slowly let go of one another. in the empty street of your neighborhood, you give a small wave to the boy before stepping onto the asphalt to your house in front of you.

and yet, there’s something you felt you’ve forgotten. and taehyun knows it too, as he still stood there on the pavement when you glance back at him over your shoulder. from the number of emotions you both have inflicted on each other and felt with each other, there is one that is so prominent you can’t help to not reveal it.

and so, you stride and captured taehyun’s cheeks in your hands before smashing your lips on his. both of your bodies stumbling with each other before taehyun’s hand stabilizes it, holding onto your love handles. the way your taehyun mimics your feverish way of kissing him is giving the right signal for you to move your hands to his nape, playing with the ends of his hair as he moves one of his hands to put underneath your jaw and chin. both of your lips trying to learn each other as best you can—feeling his tongue lightly brushes your bottom lip, both of you felt like you can’t breathe without each other.

taehyun lets out a gasp from the thrilling kiss as you let your lips travel to his jaw and trail down a bit to his neck and adam’s apple before he brought them back to his lips. kissing passionately as the sun sinks beneath the horizon and the purple now fills the sky fully. with the last push of yearning of your lips against his—letting the strawberry flavor melts on his buds as well, you both pulled away, seeing a light string of saliva connecting both pairs of lips. seeing his eyebrows frown and his glasses disarray from his place before you fixed it.

“good night.” you let him go before turning around and jogging to your house. looking one last time at him from across the street, though so little of his figure, you can see a smug smile on his face as he pivots his body to his house.

you climb up the stair hastily as you arrived at your room to open its door, seeing all four of your sisters who are doing homework on the floor. their eyesight turns towards you as you catch your breath and brush your lips with your finger. the realization of losing your first kiss and the haze of the desperation of love: for taehyun.

“where’ve you gone to, missy?” sooyoung gives a teasing remark while you hunch your body and pull down the straps of your backpack off your shoulders. the thud on the floor behind you combined with the lightness of the weight makes you let out a satisfying sigh. you nibble your bottom lip before letting out a smile, showing your hand with the candy ring.

“taehyun asked me to homecoming, and he gave me this.”

the amount of thumps on the floor is noticeable as you see your sisters clamber up from it to give you a wholesome hug, surrounding you with affection and care. jiwoo’s words cut through as she said, “we can show mama the evidence of our dates asking us and she’ll let us go.”

“hell yes,” sooyoung remarked as you all move back and link up your hands to create a circle before jumping around. the groans of the floor from all of your movements ring in your room, and downstairs too where no one is there to listen. when you feel the sweat on your face and back, your sisters stop and let go of each other. they’re giving hugs to one another before doing their own things with a smile on their faces.

while you picked your bag to put on the bed, you turn towards the window of the room that overviews the street. looking down at the house across from yours and to a specific window, a silhouette standing there with an orange ray behind him before he moves away.

-

“you like her, don’t you?”

taehyun straightened his pose from his hunched body, sweat falling down his skin. from his blurry vision without the glasses on his face, he could see a figure doing the same movement as his in front of him, lowering his gloved hands to the side of his body.

“what do you mean, coach?” the boy heaves as he takes in as much oxygen as possible. his heart is thumping in his chest from the spar.

“the girl you brought here.” the man said as taehyun takes a glimpse of you. your striped sweater and the shine of your anklet visible from the light coming from above him—marking where you sat in the dim side of the room.

“i’ve seen the look in your eyes.” the coach said as he lets out a small smile. he juts his head towards where you at, “the way you look at her,” before looking at the ring behind taehyun when he focuses on the rubber colliding and the movement of the two women he detects before doing his own training. “i look at my wife the same way.”

taehyun lets out a tight-lip smile before he felt hands on one of his shoulders—muffled sounds of velcro opening are muffled along with the other noises while he looks down. the coach stares at him when he slants his head, a certain expression in his eyes resembling the one that his father has when they talked about how proud of him they are; on how he would help his children.

“i can help you.”

taehyun lets out a huge breath as he faces the mirror in his room, fixing the collar of his shirt with the tie that he tied himself—taught by his old man. through the reflection, while he fixed his askew glasses, he can detect his boxy pc screen lighting up as a chime comes in from the chat room window he opens, seeing the colored usernames he has just familiarized himself. the words beside them were written with what they wanted to say.

he remembered he was the one that approaches all the moon sisters’ dates, you, and kai to create a chat room together to discuss the homecoming plan after that day he and you hung out outside school. thus, the “HC Dance“ chat room was born: discussion of the plan they have conducted between all the members. taehyun turns around from the mirror and walks towards the screen to examine the new message coming in.

22juyeon: heating the van. see u all @ taehyun’s home

the boy stares at the message from the newly-championed player from yesterday’s match. his hand moves to the mouse as he recalls the plan that has been put in place, the sound of the scrolling wheel against the finger that is rolling it. glancing at the side window with the members’ list, he sees all the members online, except for a certain “m00n12345“. it is near sunset when they agree to gather at taehyun’s house. he observes the windows of the house across from his, recalling how the timeline of events happened after the chat room was created.

sooyoung—as one of the five users that uses “m00n12345“—mentioned in the chat room how they have to bring one representative of the dates to help them convince their parents. at first, taehyun wants to volunteer before “dandyminnie“ wrote first in the chat room. seungmin is the right choice, he then reduces. he remembers you mention how chaewon was the most closed off of your siblings—not that he doesn’t notice. but when mentioning your mother’s proposal for all of you to get a date to go, chaewon will be the hardest to get a date for because of how she is. with seungmin being chaewon’s date, it helps convince your mother that 1. even chaewon can get a date. 2. a family friend is the one asking her. and 3. his diplomatic skill for being a council member helps in convincing the parents to let him vouch for the other dates as well.

dandyminnie: their parents said yes. they’re gonna have a curfew at 9.

the boy lets out a slight frown as m00n12345—that mention is hyejoo on the keyboard—replies in chat, “screw my parents :(“

as he walked out of his room to the empty hallways of his house, he kept thinking about that minuscule comment. both his parents are on a business trip while his sister is back at her college town, making taehyun have to tend to his own home for a few days. he didn’t mind it—already good enough at taking care of the home as he doesn’t do much in the other rooms except his. he puts the cans of soda he bought for the boys that are going to come any minute now—gyuri will stand by at school for jiwoo. kai was the first to come with seungmin and then sunwoo before the rumbling noise of juyeon’s van is heard as he parks it in the kang’s empty carpark.

crushing the can of soda he drank before throwing it in the bin, taehyun fixes his dress shoes and cuffs of his suit before nodding to the others. then, he leads the march towards the house across from his. he can feel his heart beating quicken as he approaches the pathway to the front door. even though he has known its presence and sees it every day, he has never gone to the moon’s home, only recalls that his mom has. he never stood as close to where they live as this, a knock away to see the interior.

juyeon moves to the front and lets his large hand knock on the wooden door in a precise rhythm. he didn’t expect to meet the patriarch opening the door, letting out a polite smile as seungmin—who stood on the other side of juyeon—greets the man. he gazes at the faces of the boys one by one while letting out a polite yet gracious smile before the sound of a woman you dreaded comes closer and closer, calling for her husband. when taehyun sees mrs. moon, she is wearing a thick robe on top of her home attire, looking luxurious as if she has come back from a spa day. the matriarch looks at each of them, gazing a little longer at both seungmin and taehyun: the ones she has met already.

“come and wait inside. they’re going to come down in a few minutes.” the woman said in a poised voice as both adults retreat from the door frame, letting their entrance space open to allow them inside. not wanting to stain their exotic-looking rug, taehyun steps carefully as he admires the inside of the house. it is as if he was stepping into the wrong time frame, seeing the ornate-looking furniture decorating the entrance which contrasts the more angular-looking furniture he has in his home. before the hallway diverts to multiple rooms, a large frame hangs on one wall beside the stairs. counting the people in it, he sees the moon’s family portrait. well, more like painting as he can see the texture on the surface of the canvas. but, all the people in it are younger.

the parents stood side by side in the middle as two daughters stood on each end. the rest of the three daughters is sitting on a fancy-looking sofa. when looking at the bottom corner of the canvas, he can learn the year it was finished.

1990.

taehyun tried to suppress his smile as he looks at each of the daughters of the moon. each of them has a facial expression that just exudes them. sooyoung stood with her height above her mother’s shoulder and a proud smile on her face while jiwoo stood above her father’s elbow and a grin on her face. his eyes look down at the similarly dressed triplets on the sofa. chaewon has a pout on her face, which contrasts with hyejoo who has a subtle frown, and there was you: sitting in the middle of the two with a small smile on your face. he let his eyes stay on younger you longer, recognizing the way your face matures as you grow up nine years later. yet, he felt chills when he looks into your eyes, seeing the familiar gaze and crack before, albeit softer—much like what your age was supposed to be at that time.

he turns his head when he picked up the creaks from the floor above. shadows coming closer before all five figures stand by the stairs. the sisters all seem to wear similar-looking dresses to differing lengths, only chaewon having a slightly puffy sleeve for her white dress while hyejoo’s has a sleeve that is the length of the upper arm of her silver dress. sooyoung wears elbow-length gloves that match her maroon dress—with a gold necklace to add the glow—and jiwoo has a shawl hanging on her hands of her pink gown. your black dress seems to be the base of your sister’s base, spaghetti strap, square-shaped at the torso, and fits onto your body until it flows down to your ankle—differs from sooyoung’s whose end sticks to her claves or jiwoo and chaewon who has a larger circumference for the lower body.

taehyun recognizes those dresses as he has seen his sister wear them before for her school dances. almost similar to the ones his mom and his sister bought in a store at the mall. but based on appearance alone, he can tell that the dresses are expensive, and he can’t help to glance at who is the stylist for them: their mother with a smile on her face. a rarity that even the sisters could notice. as each sister landed on the ground floor, he didn’t forget to notice the anklet on each of their right legs before their high heels. all of them stood in front of their respective dates as sooyoung turned to their parents. you give a winsome smile at him before turning your head when they heard sobs by the stairs.

all of the sisters stare to see their father looking at them before wiping his nose with his napkin as the mother confronts her husband in whispers. she turns around and lets out a small and performative smile. “remember the curfew.”

“we do, mama.” sooyoung replied as taehyun looked to see you staring longly at your father calming himself down. when your gaze met him, you give a small shrug with your head, a somber look in your eyes.

the moon sisters and the boys said their goodbyes as you walked across the street to the van. taehyun slightly looks back to notice that the front door hasn’t closed yet and when two figures stood by before one is left, recognizing the father by the doorframe. he sat beside you who sat beside jiwoo, while kai sat on the other side of him in the van's backseat. your sisters and their dates scramble into the places as sooyoung handles the placement—like the oldest sister that she is. she then sits in the front seat with juyeon in the driver’s seat, and the rest sits in the middle.

when the van goes backwards from the carpark, he sees you and jiwoo looking outside the window to see your father going back inside the room and closing the front door. the radio plays a britney spears song as the van drives as the sun has set on the horizon to school. they made small conversations in between the ride and songs playing from the speakers before hyejoo is the one that gave a certain relevant comment.

“did pop really cry?” her eyes peer around between the sisters that sit around her.

“i couldn’t believe it, but yes, he did.” sooyoung answered from the front.

“why, though?” jiwoo bounces and voices out.

“i really don’t know…” sooyoung replied.

the people inside the van then move on from the subject as taehyun witnesses sunwoo and hyejoo bickering in their seats, annoying chaewon who stares at them calmly while leaning more against seungmin. kai has spoken a few times directly to his ear that he has to tap his best friend’s thigh to remind him to speak with less volume, not that jiwoo’s jokes didn’t get the whole van to erupt suddenly and he heard his friend’s signature laugh beside him.

taehyun felt light touches on his dress pants as he looks down to the other side and at your gown-covered thigh before he saw your fingers trailing along his thigh like how his mom used to teach him how the spider crawl up in itsy-bitsy spider. he follows your fingers as they found his hand, flipping it over, and interlocks them with his fingers. he turns his head to your face to catch a mischievous look in your eyes before he looked at your other hand reaching to his face.

“what are you-“

“just relax, taehyun.” others singing a backstreet boys song that is playing on the radio muffled your voice, yet he hears it. he senses the frame of his glasses moving on his earlobe as you nuzzle it away to repair his bangs that have fallen on his forehead.

“can i try your glasses?” you asked as taehyun’s other hand reached for the glasses and pull them off. his other hand lets go of your hand as he steadies the glasses near your face.

“you’re going to be dizzy when wearing it.” he sees you nod to his reminder whilst closing your eyes. your lashes land perfectly as he pushes the glasses on between your earlobes. when taehyun lets the glasses sit on your nose, your eyes open and squint—earning a giggle from him.

“wow, this is weird…” you commented and shook your head lightly from the dizzying feeling he had with his glasses before letting his eyes adjust to it. while he thought you were going to let it off as soon as possible, he sees you tapping your sister’s arm beside you as you ask her how you appear with glasses on. jiwoo’s chuckles filled the air as taehyun can peek—from the corner of his eyes—kai’s subtle eyebrow raised and a smile on his face, making him roll his eyes at his friend.

taehyun was glad he was nearsighted. he can focus on the smile on your face with his glasses decorating it.

as the van parks in the school’s parking lot, the people clamber out of the vehicle as best as they can without ruining their outfits. in the distance, a girl walks toward the passenger as jiwoo fast-walk to her. taehyun fixes his glasses on him as he can now see how jiwoo is hugging gyuri before they turn to look at the others and gesture for them to come. taehyun looks at the other students that are coming from their respective vehicles towards the entrance. sooyoung’s shoulder is wrapped with juyeon’s arm as they greeted his teammates while celebrating their victory. both sunwoo and hyejoo approach their football teammates with them hollering at the unlikely couple teasingly. seungmin and chaewon approach you to inform you they’re going to be walking to the indoor court with jiwoo and gyuri. only taehyun, kai, and you are left.

“i feel like such a third wheel right now. i’m going to catch my club friends, okay?” kai said as he pats taehyun’s shoulder and give a smile towards you which you follow. the spring on kai’s stride left the two of you as you both stare at each other, nudging towards the building as he lets you hook your arm in his before walking to it.

the room is full of balloons littering the floor and confetti hanging on the ceiling that glimmers from the lights. the way the indoor court is now just a sea of people gathering makes taehyun feel slightly claustrophobic, but he can see the moon sisters there scattered throughout the room with their respective club members or other friends as he stood with you, grabbing the syrup with fruit in them to drink. as they both stand by the sideline together, side by side, he cannot comprehend the loneliness you must be going through that he also recognizes within himself. out of all the sisters, you were the one that doesn’t have many friends outside of your siblings. maybe it’s because of your decision to not join a school club like him or people’s perception about you that made them stay away. you never talked to him much about close friends, not even mentioning the seulgi that gave you the cd mix.

“how is it?” he genuinely asked as you both stare at the crowded dance floor, letting him take a glance at you as you nod your head while expressing a small smile.

“i can understand why we teenagers like this. but the music kinda bores me, though.” you let out a chuckle. he recalls your music taste based on the artists he remembered you listen to and let out a small chuckle himself.

“that’s what i thought, back in my first year when i went to one. but since my curiosity is satiated, i never guessed i’ll be here again,” he spoke as you give a tight-lip smile. you tug taehyun’s hand, asking only with eye contact as you glance at the snack area before he gives a nod. as you walked past, he notices people looking towards both of you before whispers enter his ears.

“who is that with moon (y/n)?”

“bro is lucky she got to be with her.”

“kang taehyun and moon (y/n) is the most unlikely couple i ever predicted.”

“didn’t she just break up with that nicholas guy?”

“i thought she still was with sunghoon…”

“i wish she goes with me.”

he shook the words away as you both grab a plate by the buffet table, hearing you grunt out at the food you ate with a look of satisfaction before you stare at him with your cheeks full—making him giggle. should he be insecure to have you as a date? no. he should’ve been proud. but he didn’t expect it to be one topic people converse about tonight. is that why you like to be away from people?

when the mc stood on stage to announce the homecoming king and queen, he remembered he didn’t vote for it because he has to go to the gym. you stood beside him near the tables as you face the stage. the mc plays a drumroll and said the winner when he can see the shock on his face reflected on yours. you both looking at each other when the resounding voice of your oldest sister is called homecoming queen. as they both look towards the stage, he can sense you whispering in his ear.

“i didn’t even know she got nominated.” his eyes glance at you beside him before looking at your sister’s astonished expression.

“i don’t think she knows it either,” he replied as you lean away before a smile bloomed on your face, yet it still looks restrained. he listens to the clapping and cheering before he heard some comments around him.

“i voted for jiwoo, but i’m glad to see her sister won.”

“well, i voted for (y/n) ‘cause look how hot she is. her sister is also hot. they really captured the people’s hearts fast, don’t they?”

they did indeed, taehyun silently answered to himself. he peeks at the jock crowd as they cheer when the spotlight landed on juyeon, the mc holding onto the other crown as sooyoung looks at him with a gleam on her face. taehyun looks towards you to spot you clapping your hands and cup around your mouth, letting you let out cheers for them.

“she deserves it!” he sees you smile as your oldest sister and her date step down onto the dance floor to have their dance. sooyoung turns towards you and gives you a wave with the widest smile taehyun has ever seen on her.

the lighting of the room changes to a warmer tone as “kiss me“ by sixpence none the richer play from the speakers. the people with their partners are walking to the dance floor when he felt a tug on his sleeve. with a smile reserved just for him, you said, “may i have this dance, sir?”

taehyun lets out a giggle as he replied after giving a gentle kiss to your hand, “of course, my lady.”

you brought him to the floor. your hands directly found their place on his nape while he awkwardly holds onto your waist. your movement leading the dance as he follows. by the way you move, he suspects you have danced before, especially in a setting like this.

under the decorations, the lights that shine on it refracted to your face, resembling the stars he has seen before in the night sky. the stars and their moon stand before him as he can catch a twinkle in your eyes. you let your head move all over the dance floor as you greeted your sisters that are also dancing there. sooyoung and juyeon have a spotlight on them as the light makes their crown shimmer. jiwoo and gyuri playfully dance on the floor in a ballroom style; the same as seungmin and chaewon, but they’re slower and closer to each other. sunwoo and hyejoo dance in the same stances as you and the boy, but they focus on tickling each other’s bodies. his eyes linger too long on their playful interaction before he brought back to you, turning his head with your hand on his jaw.

“eyes on me, handsome,” you stated with a smirk on your face. your eyes that haunt him before now excite him as they glimmer more when meeting his. taehyun can’t help to lean his head closer to you, resting his forehead on yours as you both continue to glide on the dance floor. he felt your hand holding him tighter in your hold as your smirk turns into a warm smile, making his move his hands to your back as they pushed you closer to him: seeing your eyes close as you enjoy the moment you both are in. it opens to let him see a sly look combines with the expression you had when you were daydreaming, a dull stare almost numbing. your eyes sometimes glance away toward the doors of the indoor court.

he knows how he could help you.

he took you away into the dark night street as you rode the bus. taehyun didn’t regret bringing his wallet with him as he helped pay all the payments, that includes the food you bought when you both buy a set of it from a fast-food restaurant. the room was empty except for the few employees that are cleaning the place up to close for the day. your groan from eating delicious food wavers in the air as you stare at him full of glee. how your elegant-looking black dress and his suit-and-tie combo are out of place in the colorful restaurant booth. how you both cackled at a story he told you that you accidentally throw the fries you were holding in your hand to him—silently glad it’s not the ice cream that you also bought. taehyun seemed pleased as he sees how you enjoy the food he recommends, knowing the limitation you have said to him about what you eat in your household. he wishes he could bring you to more places to show you what the world offers.

both of you stayed in the restaurant until the employee that serves you is going to close the restaurant doors for today. when you told the employee how well they do their work, taehyun see how the employee was silently awed by your comment before they went their separate ways from both of you. you and taehyun sit at the bus stop as comfortably as possible as you both waited for the bus to arrive under the starry sky. when he peeks at you, you turn his head to face yours before leaning and kissing him—the first kiss tonight. you gave multiple kisses of various lengths as your touch lingers on his skin, the way your thumb holds his chin still as you both lightly make out in the raven night; creating the thrill he hasn’t had since the first time you both kissed.

the air-conditioned bus creates a sheet of dew that sticks onto the window. both of you are sitting on one of the empty seats in the bus when your pointer finger reaches for the moisture, making a “hello!“ large enough for him to read. he lets out a giggle as he leans in to kiss your temple before you shriek, making him smile widely. you give him a peck on his cheek before your eyes widen as your hand caresses it.

“didn’t notice these dimples here.” your fingertips caress the slight dent in both of his cheeks before one rises to his glasses and push the frame up. the fog from the kiss slowly fades away. he never really thought his dimples were something special, as much more people around him have much more attractive dimples than he has. but, if it is you that likes it, then he must wear it more if he could.

you both walk on the pavement of your neighborhood, reminiscent of when you followed him to the gym and the day he lost his firsts with you. the first time kissing someone and the first time teasing someone down there. yet, the difference is clear as you walk side by side with you walking barefooted, the ends of your heels dangle on your fingers from how tired your calves are. the streetlights create a magical nuance on the night as you walk home, a few puddles of water on the asphalt road makes the street more alive.

when you both arrived at the location of your houses, both of your heads turn towards your house—the upstairs window he remembers you point out still hasn’t had its lights on. the realization it got to you makes you shift your head to face him, a glint in your eyes as the corner of your lips twitches up.

“they’re not home yet. so, i hope i haven’t passed curfew yet.” you said as you gnaw the inside of your cheek, looking at the house behind him before back to him. “since you mention your parents aren’t home, can i come to your house?”

the way you look at him lingers with a familiar tension he once experienced before with you. that fateful day that stayed in a separate storage of his memories. your eyes exude the burn that also comes from the touch of your hand on his in that dark auditorium, letting him touch your thigh and your private part, remembering how wet it is.

lust.

and with the hardening of his own private parts, he thought this moment would never come. and he never thought it will come with you involved.

as you dropped your heels behind the front door with taehyun pulling off his shoes, you approach him and cling to him with your lips. the feverish quality of the kiss you both had comes back with more heat yet gentle touches of it appearing. your hands drop to the button of his suit and let them go as taehyun held onto your body, trailing it down to your thigh. you gasp when leaning back, staring at taehyun who gives you a signal before he grabs your empty hand and leads you to his room. though no lights in his room are on, the streetlight and moonlight from the outside combine to give a perfect aura to the yearning you both have for each other.

he never believes he could see you standing inside his room after he closes the door. the boy looks at how your head moves to memorize the room, seeing the bench for his bench press and the weights leaning on the wall. the pc’s buzz filled the room as the cpu runs underneath his desk, cluttered items are everywhere unlike his very tidy wardrobe. your gown shines from the light coming from the small glimpse of the sheer curtain behind his actual one. shining at you and for you.

taehyun walks up behind you and rests his head on your exposed shoulder, letting his plump lips kiss the skin as he can hear your breath flatter. his arms wrapped to your front and rested on your stomach. the lingering touch of his lips trails up to your earlobe, the teasing he has noticeably done to you ever since that day. yes, he feels it too. he also does not want to tease, but you’ve been the one that sticks in his mind for a month and more. he wants to be that same thing for you.

“i forgot to tell you how beautiful you are tonight.” he can see how your facial muscles contort from that comment and how your hands reach to hold his. your head leans away from him as he kisses your clavicle before he turns you around. cupping your cheeks, he perceives how warm they have become while you gently pull his glasses off of him, closing the temples up before tucking them inside his suit pocket. taehyun held his breath to breathe as slowly as possible when your fingertips touched the bridge of his nose, trailing down until it falls off.

“i say the same about you. though i’ve called you “handsome” before at the dance." you steadily say as your hands now rested on his chest. taehyun feels a slight pressure on it, hearing his heartbeat clearer. the hands slip inside the suit as you push them away, letting it fall off his shoulders to the ground behind him. his chest rises and falls in a steady beat as he glances at one of your hands that is trailing down his arm. the same pressure appears again as you seemingly scan his body with your touch. your hands gather on the cuffs and unbutton them one by one.

taehyun watches how your hand lingers around his heart as you follow how his chest rises and falls. no spoken words between the two as you learn about him. he knows he will do the same to you later.

your hand reaches his tie as you pull it, not too hard to let his body stumble, but right enough for the tie to untangle. his brows raised in surprise when you take the tie from his collar and let it fall to the floor before your fingers reached for the button of his white shirt. as it opens, he sees you're taken aback by the appearance of his undershirt before taehyun shoves the shirt to the floor and pulls off his socks. then, he pushes the layers of clothing he used near his wardrobe—hoping his glasses will be alright.

“why do you have so many layers?” he overheard you whine when turning around to face you again, giggles leaving both you and him.

“i didn't know we would do it. believe me, if you say it before, i would wear less.” he strides to stand in front of you once again, grasping your hands in his before putting them on his abdomen.

“but i like a surprise,” he mumbles as your palm moves on his cloth-covered abs. though it isn’t as prominent as his coach—who he has seen before in the locker room—he is proud of how bulked up he is. especially with the sport he plays. taehyun looks down to see you pull the tuck undershirt from his pants. you might touch a slight bump if you move lower. yet, in this case, you focus on his torso first, already feeling your cold touches on the skin beneath the undershirt. and so you slowly lift it. taehyun’s arms raise to help you as it leaves his hand.

“wow.” he could hear you remark quietly, making him bite his lower lip at the sheer appearance of his bare torso to you. the glimmer in your eyes comes back once again as you admire his body. your hands and eyesight are all over his skin as you let them trail down his muscles as taehyun can only stand there to not let your trance on him disappear. he felt like he was the statue he saw in an art museum he visited. the difference is the ropes around it or the pedestal it stood on are nowhere to be seen, making guests can touch how intricate the carvings of the marble are. another difference is he only allows him to touch him like this.

“how long have you boxed?” you questioned as you close your body with his, letting him wrap his hands around you.

“since i was very young. i tried many sports before it but boxing is the one that matches me.” he tilts his head and the bangs of his hair flail from the movement.

“i can’t imagine how much training you have done to have a body like this…” your words trail off. then he senses a prominent tug on his pants, letting out a slight smirk.

“you couldn’t wait, huh?”

“i want to see more of you.” you quickly answered back.

stepping back from your embrace, he takes off his belt and throws it gently to the floor before he opens the zip of his dress pants. the bulge is clear as he accidentally caresses it, sending shivers down his spine. he never had his cock this hard before, even with the porn magazines he got introduced to from the older boys he met through the boxing club and when he first jack off. but, it’s different if it’s the real thing.

taehyun murmurs out a small “thank you” in his mind for himself for wearing a nice pair of boxers tonight. he senses your burning gaze as he pushes his pants down, exposing his leg and the lower part of his thighs as his boxers cling to his pelvis. his clear bulge makes him lick his lips as he stares at you—admiring what you are presented by.

“it’s your turn,” he spoke out. your eyes rising to meet his as he met with your less-layered outfit.

taehyun steps forward and embraces you like before. both of you breathing the same air—feeling your breath on his skin—before he reaches behind you. his hand founds the zipper on your dress and you flinch from the sudden sound as he opens it.

“you okay?” then his concern answered with a hum from you.

you gasp lightly when his palm meets the skin of your spine. like you do before, he lets a fingertip trail up your spine. goosebumps show up on your forearms as he heard you inhale. the finger met the ends of a bra before he lean back to see you looking at him with more desire. he kisses your forehead as he pulls off the straps of your dress. taehyun follows the upper end of your dress as he pulls it down, seeing the black strapless bra you’re wearing as he gives a kiss above it. he pulls it down to your stomach when the line of your underwear is peeking, giving a small kiss below your belly button.

when meeting your underwear, he realized you are not prepared either. he usually thought that for sex, both partners wear the best undergarments they have. but he didn’t meet any silk underwear as he predicted from the porn magazine he viewed. instead, he met with a regular brief. with that, he knows that what both of you are feeling isn’t something that one of you intended to do today. but it comes from the growth of one’s relationship.

the dress falls to your knees and his eyes meet your thighs, his eyes enlarged in concern. marks decorated your thighs and as he perks up to you, you catch him before you turn away. the marks that decorated your skin looks too unnatural to be a birthmark or freckles, all have a similar shape with varying shades as they fade near to the color of your skin.

“what are these?” he gazes between looking at you and the marks, kneeling on his carpeted floor. your eyes still facing away as your expression changes. taehyun sees you compose yourself, swallowing your saliva before you answered his questions.

“cigarette burns.”

if you were looking at him, you could see how his eyebrows furrowed at your answer. a scowl formed on his face before he replied, “did someone do this to you?”

“no!” your reply was instant. “i did it to myself.” you turn your head to face him, a glistening streak falling down your cheeks as you brush it off.

“this is what i meant when i said you won’t understand about us.” you reached for his shoulders to hold on, trying to not tumble yourself down. “we’re broken, taehyun. my sisters and i are broken human beings.” your vision glances at his hand on your thighs, resting right underneath the fading marks. “That is how i deal with pain. my sisters have done various other things comfortable for them but it also leaves a mark on their skins. this how i cope.”

taehyun can’t help but hold you tighter in his hands as you peer down at him. the sentences you tell helped him complete more of the puzzles that are you and your sisters. how the bandage around chaewon’s wrists now makes sense—now covered by the bracelets that were already in place to cover the bandage up—to cover the scar from her attempt to cope with the pain. when you mention how each and every of the moon sisters has a mark like chaewon, he is disappointed not to notice them, and yours were even harder as you are trying to hide from yourself.

he tugs the dress down to the carpet and drifts your foot one by one from it. that’s when he finally sees the anklet with a closer look, the silver band with two charms hooked on it: a crescent moon and a star.

the understanding of what the crescent moon means comes to him fast, but the star is the one that caught his attention. when he thinks of a star, he thought of the many dots he saw when you both walk down the pavement in the night—all of them are watching both of you connecting. but a star is also a sun, the same sun that lets its shine beam on you in the classroom every time he went inside.

your hands clasped his shoulders before they let go when he was too far to reach. he hears you gasp as he lifts your right leg and gives the skin above the anklet a kiss before continuing upwards.

“you are a star.” he started, kissing up your calves and knees to rest in front of your thighs full of burn marks. “every star has a cycle. and when their cycle ended, they cause a supernova.” holding the back of your thighs with his hands, he gives a squeeze.

“the most beautiful thing a human eye could see is the results of the supernova.”

“either a nebula or a black hole.” you filled his sentence. he hums.

“two different outcomes with two different repercussions.” he stares up at you. “though, in that case, you might see yourself as a black hole.” taehyun gives a light kiss on one of your marks, “i see you as a nebula that could create a new star.”

he continues to kiss every burn mark he can reach from where he kneeled. looking up to see you face the ceiling, he listens to a few out-of-place sniffles that are still there. yet, he listens to you sighing, letting out your weight bit by bit. he gives one last kiss to your underwear.

“what i wanted to say is,” he slowly stands up and cups your cheeks, brushing away stray tears that have fallen as your eyes glisten more because of the moisture. “no matter how are you, you are always beautiful to me.” he gives you a long kiss on the lips before pulling it off, to see you with your eyes still closed. when it opens, he could see the sadness being pushed back as you cup his face too and pull him to you, letting you taste his lips again.

he can feel the exploding emotions coming from you as it triggers his as well. the way his lips nibble your bottom lip earns a whimper from you before you let your mouth open up, letting his tongue enter to meet yours. your hands traced down his body as he let your lips go before trailing down your cheek, to your jaw and neck, before landing above your breasts.

“can i touch them?” he asked, feeling a tad bit shy.

“yes, you can.” you nod as you bite your lips where his hand reaches to cup one of them, feeling them up and knowing how soft yet sturdy they are.

your hands reach behind you to let the hook of the bra off, letting taehyun feel how the fabric loosens in his touch. carefully, he pulled the cups off as he sees your breasts. his lips travel closer to her areola as you moan lightly, the sensitive skin meeting his exhale causing it to erect. he lets out a hum before taking one nipple, softly kissing it, and giving a slight suck while caressing the other. your hands tangled in his hair as you hold him close. small whimpers coming out from you as taehyun closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of being wanted by you.

when he pulls back, your hand holds onto one of his as you brought both of you to his bed. you stood between the two, seeing how the edge of the bed touches the back of your legs. you give him a lingering kiss before tracing down to his collarbones. taehyun hiss as not only do you pucker your lips at it, you also give a few sucks on the area. he sees your head moving down to his pectorals with hooded eyes, feeling a tickle as you do the same to him—playing with his nipple and kissing the muscles he has done so much to tone. he couldn’t help but think you are marking him. you are leaving evidence that you have touched him more than other people have.

the bed springs’ noise piqued the boy’s ears as his eyelid fluttered to see you sitting on the mattress, your hands pushing him close from his lower back. he can sense your tongue tracing the faint lines on his abdomen before moving downwards, looking down to glance at your nose grazing his cock before moving back. you glance up at him, hands on the rubber band on the boxers.

“can i?”

“y-yes.” taehyun shivers.

the air of his room flushes onto the newly exposed skin as your eyebrows rose at how stiff his cock is. taehyun wanted to face away from the pleasure, but when he’s seeing you try to touch him, he guides you.

“slowly…” he mumbles when he noticed the lingers of your touch, making the blood rush more towards his lower part. his jaw drops when your thumb touches his slit. the pre-cum he made compliments how cool your touch is as it spread. taehyun looks down when you are trying to wrap your hand around him, giving an experimental stroke that felt different from when he masturbates. his eyebrows frown when your wet tongue touches the head, a gasp coming from him before you give a kiss on it. his hand holds your jaw, thumb caressing your cheekbone, while you let your tongue lick along his cock until the base as you tease his balls—more like discovering it and trying to see what they are.

the way your eye-lined eyes stare up at him, he sees the mark of your tears as it stains the color of your skin. your eyes look beautiful even though they’re puffy. he guides you back to the head of his cock, letting you do things to him that could only turn him on. you widen your mouth and let his head in. your lips wrap around it before it slowly goes out. then you continue to take him deeper, one hand still around his shaft while the other is holding him close by his ass cheek. you form a rhythm he enjoys: sucking gently, a few strokes with your hand before you let him slump. your cheeks narrow to suck him off best as he can, letting your tongue wet him up while grazes from your teeth making him hiss—which you seem to notice and tried to not let them touch him as much.

taehyun stares at the ceiling as he gasps for breath while you’ve been taking so much from him. he caresses your hair when you moved your head while sucking him, reminding him of when he jacked off to the magazine. and you went faster, your stroke getting rapid, and you do even more when he moaned your name, eyes staring at yours, looking at him as you take him in. he panicked when he heard you gag and pulled himself out at once, holding your face in his hands. as you gasp for air, he could see drools trailing down the corners of your lips, a streak of eyeliner now appearing from your smudge eyes as he brushes the stray tears away.

“are you okay?” he asked as your fluttering eyelids returns to him.

“yeah, i hope you like it…”

fuck, he is more than liking it.

“can you go to the pillow? i wanna return the favor.” taehyun confidently says as he sees you nod, crawling to the head of the bed as you lay on his pillows. the mattress dips as he moves to hover above you, leaning down to give you a passionate kiss, tasting something different on his buds before realizing it is from him. the single bed is small now for two people, but he likes how close it makes him feel to you.

your lips bite his bottom lip when two of his fingers reach your clothed core, feeling it wet like the last time he touched it. your head moves to see the space between the two of you—seeing how his hand is closer to where you want him, but not enough. taehyun sees the eagerness in your eyes as you take off your underwear, letting taehyun take the rest off of your feet and throw it with your dress. his hand moves to caress your legs as he lets his nose tip trace the skin up to your core. his body move to be in between your legs as his face arrived in your inner thighs, the two fingers rubbing on your clit while he gaze at the opening. giving the marks on your thighs kisses, he then replaces the fingers on the clit with his tongue while the fingers move to your lower lips. taehyun heard your body shifts on the mattress as you pant his name. his eyes look up to see you adoringly gazing at him. your hand reaches for his dark locks as he licks and kisses your clit while a fingertip plays around your hole before pushing in one.

“taehyun…” you gasp and he closes his eyes to let his senses savor you. him tasting you, how you clench his finger in, and your hand tugging on his hair. he let himself enjoy you before adding another finger inside, hearing a whine coming from you as he opens you up. he moves his head away as he looks at your writhing body on his bed. your thumb moves to his lip as he gives it a suck. while he pushes inside of you with his fingers, he let his kisses focus more on the marks that litter your thighs. taehyun hopes with it, he can help in clearing your head of those thoughts and their traces. he hopes that by the end, he could be an anchor to help you overcome your problems and insecurity.

the grip on his hair tightens more when he exchanged the fingers for his tongue, tasting you more clearly than the wetness staining everything around your slit. he hums as he tastes you, sending shivers around your body that are signaled by the tug from your hand. after moments upon moments of him enjoying you, he pulls away to the sound of you whining. he chuckles at your expression while licking his lips, seeing you pout adorably at him before he smooches the pouty lips. that’s when he met your tongue prodding his lips as he lets you taste yourself as he did with himself before.

“are you ready?” he asked as his eyes focus on you as everything around him blurs out.

“ready.” that’s what makes him turn to his bedside table and open the drawer. he sees the box of condoms his coach bought for him.

“treat her like how you want to be treated. go slowly.” his coach told him as he places the box inside his bag.

taehyun pulls out one packet from the box as he sees you sit up on the mattress, silently nodding as you seem to communicate with yourself. he pulls the condom from the ripped packet when your hand grabs his.

“i learn this from sex ed class…” you murmured as you place the condom right at the head of his cock before rolling it onto his shaft. the rubber on his skin feels strange before you stroke him while fixing the condom. before he hovers above you once again, you spit on your palm and rub them on his covered cock as carefully as possible, he perceives the warmth of your palm against him.

you brought your heels down on the mattress when you lay down, caging him in between your legs. taehyun grabs onto his member when he leans closer to you, eyes conflicting between looking at how you react and finding the hole he has prepared for. your hands stabilizing yourself as you also want to see how it’s done.

“it’s your first time?” you asked him.

“yeah, you?”

“mine too.”

one of your hands reaches down to his as his tip lodges into the hole, hearing your light gasp from the contact. then, he pushes the tip in as slow as he can, eyes noticing your figure laying on his bed. biting your lips and seeing his concerned face, you give a nod at him while glancing downwards.

his palms move to either side of your body as he pushes in and his jaw drops from how tight the grip is. his head drops near yours as he gives kisses along your face before you turn yours to let him meet your lips. the tongues battle one another as the sudden yet small movement makes moans come out from both of you. he cups your cheek when he pulls away.

“you want me to continue?” he questioned as you tried your best to look at how both of your bodies connected, his pelvis nearly meeting yours.

“yes. go all in, taehyun,” you said as you nod your head. the way your hair sprawled on his pillow will always be ingrained in his mind.

the boy’s hands reach for both of your hands as he puts them beside your head and hair. his body leans down and he pushes himself in until the skin of his pelvis meets yours. you clenching your thigh before you lift your legs to wrap them behind him. taehyun gives a long and passionate kiss as he moves slowly, feeling how his cock pulls out and pushes into you.

with the way you react, furrowed eyebrows, and small moans, he tried to not be fast as he does when jacking off. but when your eyes open—all of your attention to him—he sees you licking your lips as the way you clench around him relaxes, letting him slide in and then out. he groaned when your legs pushed into his back, feeling the cold touch of your anklet. one of your hands moves out from his grasp before finding its place on his shoulder.

“can you do more? you feel so fucking good.” your remarks send shivers down his spine as he kisses you, letting your moans and groans swallow each other’s as he moves more. he let himself experiment, from making his thrust faster in pace and letting his cock almost slip out from you, or he moves slower but deeper as he pushes in to make you full. your tight hole now forming to fit him.

“fuck! you’re so tight just for me.” he heard you hum before you grab his nape and brought him down, smashing your lips as your hands moves down his back. the way your nails move on and how he can sense the roughness of your calluses touching his skin. his hands reach for the ankles near his butt and separate them before pushing them near your upper body.

“YES!” you exclaimed. “you, you’re deeper in me. so deep.” you moan out as your walls tighten around him once again from the new position. his lips suck your collarbone as he thrusts in and out of you. your pelvis also moves to meet him.

it went on for minutes before he noticed how tired his arm is holding your legs up and how sore it must be for you. your moans still fill the room when he whispered into your ear, “do you want to be on top?”

your hands reach to cup his face, and the way your eyeliner and eye makeup is smudged around your eyes turns him on as you nodded at him, a smile forming on your face.

“hold on tight,” he said before he wraps his arms around your body and flips both of you around. his muscles contracted from the movement as he tried not to slip out of you while moving. his head rested on his headboard as you give him a peck on the middle of his chest.

“fuck, i like a strong boy who can move me around.” you teasingly said to him before your expression changed. you bite your lips when you sank down on him.

“shit, (y/n)! does it feel like i’m inside you more?” he asked when he pushes into the untouched territory.

“fuck- you did. i feel so full.”

taehyun’s hands move to your hips as you move on him. the new and almost familiar feeling makes both of you moan out more. that is until you move up and down on his shaft, the same sensation of him pushing into you overwhelms him. his hands move to your lower back as you lean against him, arms wrapped behind him as you both make out with you continuing bouncing on his cock, moving away when one of you gasping for breath, moaning or biting each other’s lip. your skin stuck onto his from the sweat as you move to give him his own hickeys like the ones he gave while letting his hand play with your bouncing boobs—yours also playing with his nipples.

“you’re so good for me, right?” he asks as he brought your head to his—forehead touching. his eyes can’t escape yours as you nodded. taehyun grabs onto your lower body as he tries to match the rhythm with his trust. your whines and whimpers are entertaining him as he is to you by how your grip on his muscles and comments on how strong he is to you. when he reaches down to caress your clit once again, your body trembles above him.

“y-you’re gonna make me c-cum.” you whimper as you brought your face as close to him as possible, barely finding your way to his lips. just caressing his as you move makes him grit his teeth. he will gladly be the first boy to make you cum.

“cum for me, my pixie,“ he whispers to your skin as he hears your groan because of it. then, you clench around him so hard that it makes you moan so loud before he lets his mouth onto yours. he felt how your movement slows from the orgasm as he thrusts up, the gush of your release creeps onto his skin as the movement becomes smoother.

“please cum for me too, taehyun.” he listened to you whimper as you moved on his hips once again, stimulating him by making out and your breast moves against his pecs. taehyun lets out a loud groan as he cums with him inside you. the semen drops onto the skin of his cock as it met the condom’s wall. both of you breathe heavily as the sweat on your faces makes your foreheads stick together and now stronger like glue. taehyun’s hands caress your back and butt while yours grips his biceps.

“you’ve done so good.” he heard you comment before rewarding him with a kiss from you.

“gosh, you’re more beautiful.” he breathes out as you wrapped around him once again, snuggling your face with his as he laid both of you down with you on top of him.

you whimpered when he is out of you, he traces the pulsing hole he was inside of as you remind him to clean up. he saw how much of his cum was inside the rubber when he pulls his cock out and tie the condom before throwing it away. while you seem to grab his undershirt to clean yourself and him up. he could pick up your groan when you step onto the floor to put it back on the pile and he accepts you with open arms and a blanket when you lay above him.

“you’ve done so well, (y/n).” he can’t help but please you as you shut him up with a kiss before laying on his pecs. the blanket covers both of your lower parts as your anklet meets the skin of his leg, shivers running down his spine once again.

“i didn’t expect to lose my virginity tonight,” you remarked.

“mine too.”

your smile slowly drops as you caress him, and a sudden melancholy hits him as he realizes how everything changes between the two of you. did all you want was to hook up with him? it didn’t feel like it when you both were kissing and fucking. you would not trust him that much to do that if you felt like it. his mind then wonders to your sisters. are they home yet? are they having fun? he remembers the smile each of them adorns on their faces in juyeon’s van. the first time all of you smile at outside factors rather than within the five of you. he wishes to see that all of them are safe and sound in their lit bedroom while you are in his arm.

but he can’t check when he wants to. your hand moves his head so you can kiss him. the kiss itself seems different from the ones you give to each other. the other time was passionate, lustful, and cheerful too. with this kiss, it seemed like you were trying to communicate. a certain yearning is there resembling the yearning he has for you. he can see how serious you are when you let both of you breathe.

“run away with me.”

his eyes enlarged as he stops caressing you, “what?”

“run away with me, taehyun,” you say breathlessly. he sees how the corner of your lips twisted up. “you’re the only person who ever makes me feel this way. you’re the only boy that ever adored me like how movie couples do. you’re everything that i wanted in a guy and by the looks, how you do to me, and with me, i know you felt the same way.” you then cup his cheek.

“let’s fucking run away together and start a life on our own. it’s us against the world, taehyun.”

taehyun looks at you, stunned. your eyes widen with hope inside of you as he can sense the warmth that it pours out. the way the cracks inside your eyes are slowly fading away, healing themselves with hope.

“i can’t.”

yet, taehyun disagreed.

“i have a life here, (y/n). i have my family, my friends, my home, and my upcoming career in boxing. i, you know, right? you know i can’t just leave them behind?” the boy pours out all the coming words in his mind. your face now hovers above him and not as close as before.

“no, i don’t know that taehyun. i don’t have that many friends and my family. fuck them-“

“what do you mean ‘fuck them’?” he sits up to get closer to you. but you lean away more, both of you sitting on the mattress. “what about your sisters?”

“why do you care about my siste–wait…” your body retracts. “don’t tell me…” you shook your head as you stare at your covered bottom part.

taehyun panics and tried to reach you, but you scoot away even further. he overheard you scoff as you brushed your messy hair out of your face. “of course. why didn’t i think about it?” you giggled before a frown once again formed on your face.

“you’re just like them. you’re just like all the people outside of my family…” you said with gritted teeth.

“i- what do you-“

“of course, you want to hook up with me. you’re exactly like the boys i met before i move here. the people i met every time i walk through the school’s hallways. all of their eyes look at me and my sisters thinking ‘wow, fuck they’re pretty.’ and that’s it. pretty. someone’s eye candy. a pawn for someone to ogle then play, just like what ma do to us. to me. how didn’t i realize it before?”

taehyun’s body steps off the bed as he kneels on the floor by the side of the bed you were in. “no, you misunderstood.”

“if i misunderstood, the first thing that you thought about of me leaving this forsaken place is my sisters? not asking me what my ma did to me? are they also your concern just much as i am? you care for them maybe even more than the sister that is sitting in front of you? oh, that’s not how misunderstood works, silly.” he listened to you chuckle, “it feels weird to think about you pursuing sooyoung or chaewon with how you did to me. but, you know you do that so you can brag on it to your friends, don’t you? ‘i hook up with one of the moon sisters. fuck, she’s great.’“

he froze as he heard you try to mimic how he sound before you continue, “i should have to trust the me that came to your home and warn you. that you’re just gonna see us, gonna see me, as a thing to pursue. to get a taste off.” you lean closer to him. “is it wrong for me to be selfish? is it wrong for me to be like that when i’m living in a family of seven with sisters that are around the same age as you with no privacy?”

“is it wrong for me to be selfish when my mother is an abusive parent towards me and my sisters and i want an escape? is it wrong for me to be selfish and run away with a person who i put my trust in to confide with and even let him take my virginity?” you shook your head as you bit your lips. the way taehyun sees you from his kneeled position, he felt like a follower of a deity who is given a punishment.

“i, i thought that even if with my warning, you pursue me because you like me for me. that you understand me as i thought you are. well, my plan didn’t fucking work.” he can’t help to feel his breaking heart as he heard you sob. the faded cracks in your eyes when he saw you moments ago are more prominent, much more prominent than the ones that haunt him when he first saw you up close.

“if you thought we would go on after this, you lost your chance, taehyun. you lost your chance when you said “no” and miss out on living the best life with the girl who likes and adores you as much as you do her."

with the last sentence, you stepped down from his bed and walk towards where your dress and clothing were. he found out you were whimpering as you walk, imagining how sore you must be as he hears the stomp of your foot on the ground and the zipping of your dress. taehyun wants to stop, he wanted to. but with the fiery near-monologue of yours, he can feel the guilt rising in his chest. yes, he thought you were selfish when you spoke to him about all the reasons you should and why you want to run away with him but not your sisters. what he regretted was that he should’ve seen it coming. chaewon’s bracelets-covered wrists, the way you mention to him how you don’t have pocket money, the cigarette burn marks on your thighs, your first warning to him. you are much more complex than he thought a teenage girl should be. and he was wrong, gosh, was he wrong about his idea on you.

a girl so beautiful, so rebellious, so out-of-this-world and she is also so broken, so depressed that she hurts herself with the thing that helps her pass time.

he listened to the slamming of doors twice as he can finally let out his held breath. taehyun looks outside of the sheer curtain to watch your dark figure running across the street to your house and slip inside the front door. he dims his eyes as the pc hums into his ears, reminding him to turn it off so that it can rest. the sudden bright light slaps him in the face as he met with the cyan-colored desktop wallpaper and when he wants to click on the start button, he takes one look towards the time that he does not track back when he was with you.

midnight.

part 2

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[isabelle-spray]

What Emily Dickinson taught me in 2021

I am ashamed to say that despite having an English degree and having been born with a permanent sad girl vibe - I only came to discover the work of Emily Dickinson in 2021.

I am even more ashamed to say that I discovered it - not while thumbing the pages of my Norton Anthology, or even whilst scrolling through tumblr (do sad girls still do that?) but through that most basic of platforms - a TV show.

More shameful still than either of these truths is the fact that I didn’t sit down to watch said show because I was keen to learn more about a great female poet of the nineteenth century, but because it was advertised as an historical lesbian drama. (Although I hope for this one you will cut me some slack. It’s a limited genre and a girl has to take what she can get…)

In this most modern mode of discovery, I was delighted to find much more than just a period drama with a same-sex romantic plotline. I found a thoroughly modern poet, thinker, lover and someone who was as boldly herself as anyone I have encountered, even in 2021.

In his play The History Boys, Alan Bennett described the power of poetry thus:

‘When you come across something – a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things – which you had thought special and particular to you... And it is as if a hand has come out and taken yours.’

This is what it has felt like discovering Emily Dickinson for me. In a year when I so often felt broken and lost and alone - she reminded me that I am exactly who I am supposed to be.

There are about as many interpretations of each of Emily’s poems as there are readers. Here - if it means anything to you - are some of mine.

I felt a funeral in my brain

Most of Emily’s poems were left untitled (a defiance of convention that I adore) but for practical purposes many of them are referred to by their opening lines. In my opinion the most powerful of all these is the one in which Emily tells us that she ‘felt a funeral in her brain’.

Not a funeral in her heart - the usual centre of feeling in literature, but her brain - the centre of thought, logic, rationality, cognition.

This image has rattled itself around my own brain for many months since I first read it, the way a gong sound reverberates against your eardrums long after it is struck, because it was a feeling that I recognised.

I don’t know if you’ve ever pictured your own funeral. I hope for your sake that you have not. You have to get a good way down the rabbit hole of melancholy before the thoughts of your own death start marching into your brain uninvited. Until they ‘creak across my Soul / With those same Boots of Lead.’

This year I have felt that leaden creak more times than I care to remember. This year, I have had moments when my own rationality and will to keep going through all this strangeness and grief were threatened by an overwhelming hopelessness.

...a Plank in Reason, broke,

And I dropped down, and down -

And hit a World, at every plunge.

I don’t know if this was the meaning Emily intended, but I think it must be something like it. It brings me comfort to know that somebody, somewhere felt this way once too. Somebody else was once ‘Wrecked, solitary, here’ - but she kept going. She kept doing. And how grateful I am that she did.

Tell all the truth but tell it slant -

The notion of truth is an odd thing in 2021.

So much so that we’ve started referring to this time in history as the ‘Post Truth Era’.

Truth once meant something absolute and solid to us. Now, in a world where facebook has more influence over election results and vaccine uptake than verified data and scientific research, it seems that ‘truth’ has become something elastic. Something you can bend or stretch to your own convenience. Something liquid that can run away from you if you’re not careful.

So what did I learn about the truth from Emily Dickinson in 2021?

Too bright for our infirm Delight

The truth’s superb surprise

When I read this it occurred to me that I had been naive in my assumption that this era was the only one in which truth was a relative concept. People have always been afraid of truth, Emily tells us, until somebody explains it to them in a way that they can understand.

As Lightning to the children eased

With explanation kind

The notion of some unseen scientists developing a vaccine in a lab and then pumping it into our blood streams does on the face of it sound threatening. Most of us don’t have enough scientific knowledge to be able to really say for sure how it actually works on a molecular level - I know I don’t. So we have to be able to trust one another. And pulling up graphs and statistics from google is often not enough to inspire trust because we aren’t used to learning through data. We’re used to learning through stories. We’ve passed down knowledge through stories for many thousands of years before science was ever conceived of. It’s still how we explain the world to our children, and how we like to express and process our emotions. And most of the time, it’s what we need to wrap our minds around the abstract.

Reading them now, at the end of 2021 as Omicron fills the hospitals with droves of the unvaccinated, the closing lines of the poem seem almost prophetic. Long before the phrase ‘fake news’ was ever coined, Emily warned us:

The Truth must dazzle gradually

Or every man be blind -

All the letters I can write

I came to Emily Dickinson looking for an historical lesbian plotline, and while I found much more besides, I was not disappointed on that front. Despite the censorship of her editors, Emily’s love for Susan shines through in her poetry.

I’ve read enough erotic verses written by men about women. The winking coyness of John Donne’s ‘To His Mistress Going To Bed.’ Shakespeare’s back-handed Sonnet 130. Even ee cumming’s ‘lady I will touch you with my mind.’

There is something so uniquely feminine, not only in the ‘fair’ subject of this poem, but moreover in its telling, that makes it an unmistakable work of sapphic eroticism.

All the letters I can write -

Are not as fair as this -

Emily, despite holding herself in great esteem as a writer, concedes from the very beginning that even her powerful imagination and command of the English language are humbled by her subject.

Syllables of Velvet

Sentences of Plush -

Even if she wanted to, she could not conjure anything so sumptuous with her words.

She also plays a clever game with the conventions of gender in love poetry. Ordinarily the subject - the woman in the poem - is compared to a flower for her beauty and fertility. Here Emily - being herself a woman - imagines herself as the flower, and her lover as something else entirely:

Play it were a Humming Bird

And just sipped - me -

ee cummings could never.

[thelightofthingshopedfor]

re: your tags on the post defending people being dramatique about reblogs; whoever ghosted you over that is a dick, but also there has GOT to be a happy medium between "fuck you if you don't reblog everything you feel positively about" and "fuck you for asking for reblogs" like omg, tumblrinas plz, i am begging for like half an ounce of nuance i know this is the internet but please for the love of the blorbos stop the madness *headdesk*

I mean, yeah, I don't actually think guilt/shame is a good motivation for engaging with fandom, for a lot of different reasons, and tbh the overall tone of the post I just reblogged is probably more abrasive or something than what I've reblogged before or said myself. I mostly just reblogged this one because apparently I can't get over how hurt I feel over the whole basically-being-ghosted-by-a-long-term-friend thing (especially given that it made me feel really insane in a specifically neurodivergent way, like, "either I have massively misinterpreted literally everything about this relationship for years because I fundamentally don't understand friendship or social interactions in general, or you didn't mean anything you said to me, or you changed the rules at some point and didn't tell me").

but it's also just...deeply frustrating that even the mildest posts saying "if you don't do some very basic things to support the fanworks you like, you will start seeing a lot less of those fanworks, because those creators will get discouraged and stop producing it" gets categorized as whining or guilt-tripping when it isn't, it's literally just describing cause and effect. there are other posts scolding fan creators for expressing that discouragement or asking for a little damn engagement because we just want to feel like we're part of a community, all of which just contributes to the atmosphere of discouragement.

and it feels increasingly bizarre to me the more time I spend on Instagram, following all kinds of artists and small businesses, all of whom talk a lot about how important engagement is to what they do and how much their work lives and dies by The Algorithm and how crucial it is for people to take a few seconds and boost stuff they like because otherwise it just gets lost to the void, and I don't see the same backlash there of "well you should just be satisfied with creating for yourself, you shouldn't worry about stats, stop whining for attention, stop guilt-tripping people," whatever. granted, it's a different matter when there's money involved, because with a small business whose only source of advertising is social media, we're talking about someone's actual livelihood, but there's a huge amount of crossover with literally any artist--fanartist or otherwise--given that loads of them do also have Patreons or Ko-fi links or shops with physical items, or maybe they don't start out that way but when they build an audience organically they're able to bring in some actual money. and I've definitely seen people who aren't primarily selling things, who really are just producing art as a hobby, but still ask people to share their stuff because it encourages them to make more, and that seems to be seen as perfectly legitimate, except on Tumblr and also Reddit. fanfic is a little different because it's inherently an extremely bad idea to monetize, so there isn't the angle of "of course you want to share this so your favorite writer can keep food on the table!" but it doesn't seem like a huge stretch to say it follows a similar principle, right? if you like it, it just makes sense to support it in some small way, because then you're more likely to keep getting it? and if you don't make any effort to support it, then you can't complain when you stop getting it? (making this very basic point got me downvoted on r/Fanfiction because of course it did.)

and, I don't know, I personally get really discouraged begging for reblogs, and it would feel a lot better if I didn't have to. not even just my own fic (although, yes, especially that), but original posts about helpful resources or awesome Kickstarters or fic recs or cool free games or "hey this artist is doing charity commissions, look at their awesome art, please reblog so they can raise money for this important cause" mostly just all kinda fall into the void. not that I'm at all unique in that respect, obviously; anyone who doesn't have a big audience deals with that frustration (while people who do have big audiences get to deal with different problems, as I understand it, although I certainly wouldn't know from experience). it just sucks, you know?

[monstersandmaw]

Male drider x reader (sfw) - Part One

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

It’s Wednesday, so that means it’s ‘new’ story time. This one has been up on Patreon for a week already, and Part Two has gone live today already.

Content: Female reader takes up a job as an archivist in a creepy old house and is surprised to find that 'the master' refuses to be seen at all... Very much ‘Beauty and the Beast’ inspired, if you will. Cameos from Sarrigan Silkfoot and Damien the orc chocolatier (Tumblr links). Wordcount: 2464

EDIT: my favourite comment from patrons on part two has been ‘cranky spooder’

WANTED: Librarian to take on an extensive, re-cataloguing project in a large, private collection. Diverse collection includes books, clay and stone tablets, scrolls, parchments, and various other media.  Applicant must be willing to live on-site in a relatively remote location, and archival qualifications preferred, though demonstrable experience may suffice. Board and lodging will be provided throughout the duration of the project. It is anticipated that it should take between four to six months. More details to be supplied to the candidate following a successful interview.

---

You stared at the strange advert in the paper and let your teeth sink slowly into your lip, a frown playing across your forehead. This was… honestly right up your street in terms of experience and qualifications. In that moment, sitting at the table in your favourite coffee shop in Starfall Springs while a summer rain shower hammered down outside, you wanted to wave that advertisement in the face of everyone who’d said a postgraduate qualification in archive and records management would render you essentially bankrupt and completely unemployable. If this was anything to go by, they were only half wrong. You were practically bankrupt. Well, up to your eyeballs in student loans at least.

“Fuck it,” you hissed under your breath, ripping out the advert and getting out your phone. There was no email contact, but there was a number, and you saved it to your contacts in case you lost the little shred of newspaper, and decided to call as soon as you got home.

The phone wasn’t exactly your preferred method of communication, but it was all you had, so after psyching yourself up, you punched in the numbers and paced about, waiting for someone to answer.

Abruptly, the dial tone cut off, and a crackling on the other end of the line announced that someone had picked up. “Hello…? I’m… I’m calling about the archivist’s role advertised in the Starfall Chronicle… I was hoping for a bit more information.”

“Oh,” came a reedy, thin voice. “Your qualifications?”

You told them and then waited for them to speak.

“Hmm. And your experience?”

You swallowed. “I… I helped the Starfall Museum in transferring their computer system from the manual catalogues…” you said, suddenly feeling like this was the interview already.

“Mmm. So your experience is not extensive then.”

It wasn’t a question, and you ground your teeth.

“Just how am I supposed to get this vast acreage of mythical experience if no one hires anyone without it? I can get you three stunning references from the museum curators and staff, as well as from my professors at university,” you said hotly. And instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry,” you added hastily. “I didn’t mean to…”

“Yes you did,” they chuckled, voice husky and fragile. “And you’re perfectly right. I think you might do well at this in fact.”

“I… what?”

Another soft snort. “What information would you like to know then?”

“Where is it, for a start?”

There was an uncomfortable pause, and you’d just been on the point of asking if they were still there when they spoke again. “There’s an old estate to the north of Starfall Springs.”

You frowned. You’d heard rumours as a child growing up here that there was some mad old nightmare creature who lived in the woods on the slopes of Starfall Mountain and came down into the town on the new moon snatched naughty children from their beds, but you'd long dismissed it as nonsense to make kids behave. Still, it sent a tingle of apprehension down your spine.

“I’ve heard something of it,” you said carefully. “Not much.”

“Widowsweb Court,” the person said with reticence. “The estate dates back centuries, and the collection is in need of some care and attention. If you would be willing to live on the estate in your own, self-contained apartment, with meals provided in the kitchens of the main house should you wish it, then I think you sound like the right person for the role.”

“When would you want me to start?”

In the end, it took you less than a month to get everything organised.

On the evening of your departure, you and your friends celebrated on Temple Meadow, the huge swathe of public park surrounding the town’s religious building, and as you lay back on the blanket, staring up at the sky and surrounded by friends, you saw a shooting star sear through the canopy of glimmering stars above.

Sarrigan Silkfoot and his partner lay curled up nearby, and Damien, the huge orc from the chocolaterie in town, had tucked his own partner’s head against the crook of his colossal shoulder. A thought occurred to you as you watched Sarrigan toss his head back and laugh at a joke whispered in his ear, and you sat up.

“Sarrigan?”

“Mm?” he hummed, laughter still dancing in his eight red eyes.

“I know you don’t talk much about your family, but do you know of any other estates around here?” You hadn’t mentioned exactly where the job was, just that it wasn’t in Starfall Springs itself.

“Why d’you ask?”

“The place I’m going to for this job is called Widowsweb Court, but the library said it’s been abandoned for years, and I couldn’t find much about it on the internet either.”

He went still at the mention of its name. “Widowsweb you say?”

You nodded and realised you had the attention of everyone in your small group.

Sarrigan straightened and tucked a strand of his long, black hair behind a tapering ear. “It used to be part of the Silkfoot family holdings… way, way back,” he began, gesturing with his hand. “But about four hundred years or so ago, there was a disagreement between the then patriarch of the family and the dowager, his mother. He essentially annexed the property and disowned the entire estate. He could have sold it, but apparently he felt just guilty enough not to turf her out onto the street…”

“Why? I mean, what did she do?”

Sarrigan shrugged. “No idea. Knowing my family, it probably had something to do with anti-human sentiments…” he winked at you and added, “We really didn’t like your kind invading these parts…”

“We’re not exactly a majority round here,” his partner said, thwacking him in the belly with the back of a hand.

“True,” he said before turning back to you. “But you’re saying someone actually lives there?”

Damien leaned across and grinned, “Could be a long-lost relative, Sarrigan!”

“Well, whoever my employer is, they have a huge collection to reorganise, so I’m in.”

“You don’t even know the name of the person who’s paying you?” Damien gawped.

You shook your head. “A Mr. Ambleside is taking care of that. He’s apparently employed to keep the estate running and such… He’s the one who interviewed me.”

“Ambleside is an old family name from these parts,” Sarrigan said thoughtfully. “Well, you make sure you keep in touch, hmm?”

“Will do,” you nodded.

The only problem was, you discovered after Damien had dropped you off and fussed endlessly over you outside the tumble-down gates of the estate, that there was no phone reception way out here. Not even a single, sputtering bar.

As the tail lights of Damien’s truck disappeared, you pushed the iron gates open, the hinges screeching in protest loud enough that you thought your arrival would be announced all the way back down into Starfall, a two hour drive away.

Heaving your huge suitcase into your hand, you began to struggle down the driveway. Overgrown, potholed, and muddy, the road was barely even a road after the recent rain.

Ancient, thick-boled trees hung over the drive, branches meeting in the middle like lovers fingers interlaced, and after half a mile of walking, you stopped, exhausted, and sat on your suitcase. You’d made it out of the small, gnarled copse that bordered the edge of the estate, but the parklands that lay beyond seemed to stretch for miles. The thought of hauling your sizable suitcase all that way made you feel faint, especially in the stifling sun. There was at least a cooling breeze that lifted your hair and caressed your skin, but honestly, it was hopeless.

Eventually, after perhaps a quarter of an hour of sitting there, getting warmer and thirstier, and growing no less exhausted, you caught sight of a movement on the driveway. Squinting, you made out a horse and cart, and sitting atop the driver’s bench, a figure with a wide-brimmed hat on their head.

The closer they got, the more you were able to make out, and when they were perhaps fifty yards away, you stood up. They looked to be an elderly firbolg, with warm-brown skin and flaming red hair and beard.

The horse was an elderly, bony looking thing, and the cart just as rickety, but the firbolg drew to a halt beside you and barked your name in a familiar voice.

“Mr. Ambleside?”

“Yes, that’s me,” he said. “You’re early.”

“A little, yes.”

“Well, climb in. Do you need a hand with your bag?”

You looked at it, and then at the height of the cart bed. “If you wouldn't mind?”

He nodded and climbed carefully down. You weren’t sure how old firbolgs got, but he didn’t exactly look young. Having said that, he hauled your bag into the back like it weighed nothing at all and then helped you up to sit beside him on the bench before turning the cart around and heading back up the driveway.

The house itself was nestled in a clump of massive elm trees, masked from view until almost the last moment. “I’ll show you to the cottage, and then you can come up to the house for some refreshments. You’ll start work tomorrow at nine.”

You nodded, not wanting to rock the proverbial boat. “Is it just you and… er… your - our - employer here then?” you ventured after a few minutes of silence with only the rumbling of the cart for background noise.

He shrugged. “My boy works here in the grounds too, and there’s Chiara who tends to the household. Other than that, yes. And the master, of course.”

“Will I be meeting him?” you asked.

Mr. Ambleside looked positively scandalised. “Oh heavens no!” he gasped.

“Right. I see. He’s… unwell?”

That drew a deep scowl from the firbolg’s thick, heavy brows. “No,” he said, but it sounded like he was buying time. “No, he’s not unwell. He just… prefers a solitary life. You are to enter through the back door to the kitchens, proceed up the route to the library that I will show you, and return the same way when you’re done, is that clear?”

“Perfectly,” you said, wondering just what you’d got yourself into.

“If you need to use a telephone at any time, you may use the landline in my office.”

That news came as a huge relief, and you clung to it as you were shown the slightly dusty stable-house apartment just across the courtyard from the main house. Widowsweb Court was a massive country pile, with filigree stonework and steeply pitched, slate-tiled roofs, and it wouldn’t have looked out of place in a horror movie.

Your first week passed without incident. You assessed the vast, rambling collection, and saw immediately that it would definitely take much, much longer than the six months for which you’d been contracted to get to grips with it and get it into a decent order. Even if you had a team of ten strong people to help you, there was no way you could reorganise all the shelves in the cavernous library. It was as large and as varied as any national archives, and contained books and scrolls on everything from ancient magic to the development of medicine in various countries across the world.

Travel journals were rammed in next to tomes on mathematics, poetry beside animal husbandry, and gemology beside botany. There was no scheme to it, and after two weeks, you nearly had a complete breakdown.

Covered in dust and suddenly vastly overwhelmed by the looming, dark bookshelves, you simply sat down on the floorboards and let your head fall forwards into your hands. This was a gargantuan effort for one person to tackle alone.

Something rattled in the stacks and you gasped, sitting up straight, heart hammering. “Hello?”

Silence followed, but after only another few seconds, you heard a skittering of limbs and the slam of a door. Except, there was only one doorway to the library, and it was behind you.

Standing somewhat shakily, you swiped your tears away and paced steadily along the floorboards towards the source of the noise. When you found nothing but dusty stacks and silent  books, you swallowed and turned away.

At supper that night, you ate with Mr. Ambleside and his son, Naril, who was perhaps a year or two younger than you, and looked very much like his father. Noticing your pensive expression, he leaned over and asked in his softly-articulated purr if everything was alright. “You look… I don’t know… Did something happen?”

You sighed, nudging food listlessly around your plate. “I was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the project today…” you said. “And… I heard a noise in the library that startled me, that’s all.”

The two of them exchanged looks and then Mr. Ambleside said, “That was probably the master…”

“But I thought…” you began, though you hardly knew what you thought about the mysterious person who supposedly ran the estate, pulling all the strings from a hidden room in the old house and never revealing himself to anyone.

“Why do you think he wanted the collection organised?” Mr. Ambleside chuckled into his potatoes. “He’s an avid reader, but doesn’t have the patience to do it himself. Plus, he doesn’t see too well any more.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “All those books, and… that seems so cruel… Is he very old?”

Naril shook his head. “No, he’s maybe ten years or so older than us? Chiara reads to him in the evenings if his eyes get tired, and —”

“—Naril, that’s enough,” Mr. Ambleside barked, and Naril’s fluffy ears tucked right back against his head. “We do not gossip about the master.”

“Sorry, father,” he said, shooting you a look that conveyed a fair bit. ‘If you want to know more, ask me when he’s not around’ it said.

For another week, your recataloguing was left undisturbed by noises, but after four weeks of being at Widowsweb Court, you encountered ‘the master’ for the first time, and he was nothing like you’d thought he would be, though perhaps the name of the place should have given it away.

Part Two --->

To be continued next Wednesday... Part Two is currently up on Patreon so you can read it right now on the Pixies and Goblins Tier.

___

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

For all early releases, character art and bios, upcoming story info, and much, much more, join me over on Patreon!

You’ll have access to stories before anyone else, and you’ll get instant access Patreon-only content as well, including polls and an exclusive monthly story for those on the Pixies and Goblins tier!

Currently I’m also running a CYOA for all tiers, with episodes releasing every Friday.

__

| Masterlist | Patreon | Ko-fi | Writing Commissions |

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Whisky Secrets (sequel)

Here's something different. Before I ever thought about posting fanfic here, I used to write things inspired by fanfic I found by some of the incredible writers I found on tumblr. I've never posted any of them but I've really felt like writing something for Aleister Black/ Tommy End lately.

So I reached out to one of my original favourites on this site, @ghostofviperwrites and asked her if she'd mind if I published this sequel I wrote to her story Whisky Secrets. She gave me the ok (for which I thank her very much).

You absolutely have to read her piece first or this won't make any sense. It picks up literally at the point where hers leaves off and the entire premise is based on what she wrote. I think this goes in a very different direction than what she had in mind, though.

Since this is an old story, some of the characters are very different than they are now. It was set at around the time I wrote it. Based on events in the story, it's pretty clear when that was.

It's a bit dated but I hope you enjoy.

Pairing: Aleister Black x OFC (hints of Roman Reigns x OFC)

Word count: 7,031

Content advisory: graphic sexual content, language, incidental roughness that some might find stressful

You rested on the sofa for too long, knowing that you had to get to work, that you were already behind on an assignment that was due that afternoon. As much as you desperately wanted to cling to the scent and the feeling of him being there with you and the idea that he might someday want to be there with you for longer, you knew that you were only wasting time by indulging in a fantasy. Once again, you reminded yourself, he saw you as a friend, a landing pad after he was finished his adventures. And so you dragged yourself to the computer and tried to focus.

It was a fluff piece you’d been hired to write: places for new residents of Orlando to meet people. You’d accepted it because the pay was good and it had seemed easy. But what the hell did you know about meeting people? You’d barely met anyone and the only ones that you’d call friends were the ones you met when you’d done an in-depth profile on the WWE and their development territory NXT. Of those, only Aleister had remained close and even then, you couldn’t say that the two of you had ever properly opened up to each other. Nevertheless, you’d stayed in touch with a number of them, occasionally meeting for coffee or drinks. None of this was in any way useful when it came to recommending locations to connect with strangers.

You’d tried to start the article the day before but now when you opened the file, you discovered that you’d only come up with a half a dozen corny titles and one word of text:

When?

The word was too painfully appropriate.

When were you going to run out of luck and be unable to find further work as a journalist?

When were you going to admit that what kept you here, rather than moving to another state and pursuing more secure work, was the fact that you were in love with a man who was only interested in your capacity as a friend and caregiver?

When was your hopeless love going to break you beyond repair?

Annoyed with yourself, you deleted the word and tried to start again. You could meet people at the gym classes that were ubiquitous in this city. You could meet people at get-togethers for shared hobbies like hiking or pottery or basically anything. No one had to meet people by getting thrown into their orbit and being unable to extricate themselves.

About half an hour into your resentful hammering on the keyboard, you were startled by your doorbell. For one sweet instant, you imagined that it was Aleister dropping by to pass some time with you. Then you realized that he never came to you without an invitation unless it was dead drunk in the middle of the night. Even when you invited him, it was only every fourth or fifth time that you asked that he agreed to come over and watch a movie or go for a walk in the nearby park. There was no way it was him at your door at eleven o’clock in the morning.

In fact, the person at your door was Bayley, chipper and warm as always, returning the spare laptop you’d lent her a few weeks before.

“Thank you so much,” she beamed, thrusting the computer into your hands. “You are a lifesaver. I’d have lost my goddamn mind if I hadn’t had this while mine was in the shop.”

“It was nothing,” you insist, smiling at her unconstrained warmth even though you didn’t feel very positive about your life at that moment. “Do you want to come in for a minute?”

She nodded cheerily and stepped across the foyer. You never really knew how you fit in with the women of WWE, even though you’d spoken to many of them in depth. Bayley stood out because she was determined to be your friend despite your introvert’s reluctance. And, indeed, she was irresistible. Much like her in-ring character, she cast sunshine wherever she went and her glow was contagious, even in your darkest and lowest moments.

You motioned her into the kitchen, offering her a choice of lemonade, iced tea or water. Her eyes immediately fell on the empty whiskey bottle you’d left on the counter, her expression growing more serious as she focused on it.

“Getting started early?” she cajoled.

“A friend left that here,” you replied guiltily.

She narrowed her dark eyes as she looked at you. Sweet and optimistic as she was, Bayley was not naïve. She knew exactly what friend had left the bottle behind and she knew how you felt about him.

“I’ll have a glass of lemonade,” she said, the smile slowly returning to her face.

You joined her and the two of you jokingly touched glasses before drinking.

“So, a few of us are getting together tonight,” she said hesitantly. “I thought you might like to join us.”

Your first instinct was to ask if Aleister would be there, but you thought better of it. Instead, you responded, “Well, I have an article I need to finish.”

Of course, your article was due by the end of the afternoon, which meant that your evening was free regardless, but part of you wanted to be at home in case Aleister came staggering over again.

Bayley’s jaw set in a determined expression you’d only seen from her in the ring. “We’re having a party for Roman, to celebrate him going into remission.”

Well now you felt like a bit of a bitch for making excuses and didn’t know what to say.

“It won’t just be wrestlers there. Some other journalists are even coming. And I know that it would mean a lot to him if you were there.”

When you’d done your article on the WWE, you’d interviewed Roman Reigns and he’d been incredibly generous with his time. He’d even contacted you after your interviews to confirm that you had all the detail you needed. He was the face of the company and had done everything possible to make sure that the company had provided what you required. He’d clearly wanted to make sure they’d left a good impression and you couldn’t help but be impressed by his PR skills. Although you knew it wasn’t true that it “would mean a lot to him”, you were touched by the idea that he remembered you and might like you to be there to celebrate his great news. At the same time… you needed to be there for Aleister.

“Look,” Bayley insisted, “I’m going to text you the details for the bar where we’ll be. It’s not a big deal, just a bunch of us getting together to be happy for our friend.”

There was no way that you could refuse that, so you shyly thanked her as she gulped the rest of her lemonade and made for the door.

“I’m serious,” she said as she departed. “You work so damn hard you deserve a night off. Finish what you’re doing and come have fun with us.”

As soon as she’d left, you once again sat down at your computer. Before you could return your attention to your work, however, you couldn’t resist checking Instagram.

Someone had tagged Aleister in a photo on Instagram.

Yes, you were that pathetic that you always checked.

With trepidation, you clicked the link to look at what was there. As it too often did, the notification came from an airbrushed-looking woman, her collagen-enhanced lips pressed against his. She looked arrogant and proud, while he looked smug and inebriated.

“Guess who I got to hang with last night?” the caption gloated.

You knew damn well what “hang” was a euphemism for. He never cared that the Barbie dolls he hooked up with advertised their conquest on social media. He was single and hot. Why should he care if people knew that he always scored with the sort of women other men lusted after? Why should he care that it ripped your heart to shreds every time you saw him with another woman so unlike you in every way?

The woman had posted a few other photos of the two of them together, embracing. Every part of her magazine-ready body was on display, save those parts that would have gotten her in trouble. Her artificially perfect breasts were spilling out of a tiny tube top while her endless legs were shown in their full glory between the edge of a skirt that likely required her to trim her pubic hair and the sky high heels that raised her enough to press her lips to his without having to stretch herself awkwardly. She was nothing like you, with your unkempt hair and loose, bohemian dresses, your comfortable ballet flats and blandly natural face. She had all the glamour that you lacked and he ate it up.

The images of the two of them cut into you like a laser and, for once, all you desired was to break free from the pain of feeling. A few minutes later, when Bayley sent the text she’d promised with the details of where you could find the party tonight, you immediately responded.

“I’ll be there. I promise.”

To hell with Aleister and the designer women he adored, you told yourself as you returned to your article with a vengeance. Tonight you were going to do whatever it took to break the spell he had cast over you.

*

It was just after nine when you found yourself teetering to the entrance of the bar where the party was taking place. It was marked only by a subtle sign, no words, just a stylized anchor, and it was hidden away on a tiny street that was hardly more than an alley. In your fit of pique, you’d finished your article two hours before your deadline and then, having examined the options in your closet and found them wanting, headed out and spent entirely too much money on a new dress that clung perfectly to your breasts before flaring out to highlight the movements of your body, while covering just the bare minimum to maintain decency. You’d also picked up a stylish pair of ankle boots with heels higher than you were used to and that posed a legitimate threat as you made your way down the roughly paved road to the speakeasy-style bar.

A little further down the alley, you see a couple leaning against a car, taking turns swigging from a liquor bottle. The woman is one of those glamorous animals that makes you so insecure, laughing in drunken delight in a way that only confident people can. In one quick movement the man spins her around and bends her over the hood of the car. He immediately takes out his cock, stroking it a couple of times before he thrusts into her, one hand on her back while the other holds the bottle that he continues drinking from. And it’s a moment before you realize that it’s Aleister, fucking away at a woman whose name he won’t remember in a few hours.

The sight makes you want to curl up and die, makes you want to say that you’ve made a mistake and run along home so you can bawl your eyes out while you wait for his inevitable drunken arrival. But, if nothing else, the damage that you’ve done to your credit card in order to make yourself look just a bit more sexy and edgy than usual, as well as the glasses of wine you had already consumed to fortify your courage, push you forward. This is a test. In order to pass, you need to be able to ignore the man whose indifference is killing you and enter the world of others, where someone who wasn’t up to the standards of the rarified model girls might be willing to give you a second look.

Aleister doesn’t even glance up as you enter the bar a few feet away from him, can’t feel the dark weight of your eyes on him or the force with which you tear them away as you step through the door.

As soon as you do, you are once again frozen with the idea that you’ve made a mistake. When Bayley characterized this as a “get-together”, you’d assumed it meant a group of people spread out around a few tables chatting away and toasting Roman’s health. Instead, what greets you is a basement club full of people with a dance floor alive with writhing bodies. You recognize a few journalists but for the most part, the space is taken up with every WWE and NXT star you’ve ever heard of. It’s a convention of beautiful people and you can’t help but feel dowdy even in your overpriced finery.

You slowly descend the stairs, fully intending to look around, say hello to a few familiar faces and then bolt for the exit, but you’re immediately greeted by a familiar voice that fairly shrieks. “Oh my god woman, just look at you!”

It’s Sasha Banks, standing at the edge of the stairs with Bayley, who gives you an exaggerated round of applause.

“Miranda, you look amazing,” Sasha continues breathlessly. “Seriously, you’re putting everyone to shame.”

You don’t feel like you’re putting anyone to shame, least of all Sasha in her body suit that hugs every curve of her perfect little hourglass, but you blush at the compliment.

“Come on,” Bayley gushes, “we need shots to celebrate your hotness!”

She pulls both of you through the crowd to the bar and somehow is able to get the bartender’s attention almost immediately, ordering two rounds of tequila shots because, she tells you and Sasha, there’s no point in getting just one round when you know you’re going back for seconds. The three of you toast and toss down the shots and then immediately do so again and you have to admit that you’re feeling the warm glow already. Sasha, apparently feeling something herself, wraps her arms around you and once again reassures you that you are devastatingly beautiful.

Another shot is thrust into your hand, this time by Dash Wilder, who’s arrived with his Revival partner Scott Dawson. Wilder has always been attractive to you, so you give him as radiant a smile as you can manage and you swear he blushes a little just before he downs his shot. Dawson is hugging Sasha and Bayley close to him, allowing Dash to edge a little closer to you and you’re feeling a little high on yourself when another voice cuts through your circle.

“Miranda? Holy fuck I can’t believe you’re here!”

Roman Reigns pushes right through the bodies close to the bar and grabs you firmly by the shoulders, his eyes gradually focusing on yours. He’s grinning with an intensity that clearly comes from his being a little past feeling no pain but it doesn’t hamper the thrill it gives you when he wraps his arms around you and nearly crushes you in a hug.

“I mean, shit, I don’t think I’ve even talked to you since you did that interview,” he pouts. “Thank you so much for coming.”

You smile as another shot is pushed into your hand, biting your lip self-consciously. You down about half the shot before Roman grabs it from you and finishes it, breaking up with laughter. He signals the bartender for another round, keeping an arm around your back until the tray of shots arrives. You’re all toasting each other and you wonder why you ever questioned yourself for coming here because this is exactly what you needed.

“Come dance with me,” Roman chuckles, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards the dance floor. He’s clearly floating on a sea of drunken bliss, goofing around and happy to have someone to have fun with, someone he didn’t expect to be there. Even if you wanted to resist his offer, you couldn’t because, while he isn’t doing anything that might hurt you, his grip is strong enough and the rest of him powerful enough to compel you forward.

The two of you deliberately dance like complete nerds in high school, awkward movements and ironic posturing until you’re both laughing so hard you can barely stand. It’s then that you realize that you’ve become the focus of some attention; Roman goddamn Reigns, the face of the company, the locker room leader, the man who everyone has come to celebrate, is dancing with you. Most of the people here have no idea who you are but because you’re with Roman, you are somebody. Basking in the subtle attention and envy, you close your eyes and allow yourself to get lost in the music, swaying to the beat until you feel a large pair of hands on your hips.

You open your eyes to see Roman pulling you closer to him with a devilish grin before spinning you around and pulling your back against his massive chest. You continue to move but at a slower pace, your movements limited by how close he’s holding you and the sensual way in which his body moves against yours. Keeping one arm loosely around you, he lets his other hand fall against your thigh, lightly playing with the hem of your dress. It makes you gasp.

“You never responded to any of my texts,” he murmurs gruffly in your ear.

You remember at least half a dozen messages asking if he could clarify anything or if you needed any additional material for your article. You hadn’t needed anything else but you suddenly feel terribly rude for not answering.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “you were very professional and I should have at least told you that I had what I needed.”

His voice drops even lower as he speaks. “I didn’t mean to be professional about them. And I was hoping that you didn’t have everything you needed.”

He pulls you up and firmly against him and for the first time you can feel his hardening cock through his pants. You can’t help but thrust your hips into him, barely able to process what’s happening to you. The two of you are still ostensibly dancing, although it’s more like a rhythmic grinding to the music as he reaches down and pulls the hem of your dress up, rubbing your thigh and then your ass as he presses his lips into your neck. His hands are everywhere on you and you’re aware that your entire lower body is basically on display for anyone who cares to look but you don’t care because it feels like you’ve won the lottery. You moan at the feeling of his growing excitement against your flesh, both his large hands grazing up the front of your thighs and for a moment you think that you’re ready to beg him to take you right there when you’re violently spun away from your dance partner, a bruising grip on your arm.

It’s Aleister, eyes incandescent with rage as he tells Roman, “I need to speak to her for a minute.”

Roman looks confused and tries to speak to you but Aleister drags you away and a gaggle of women immediately descend on Roman, desperate to take your place.

Aleister flings you against the wall, glaring at you with an intensity that you’ve never seen outside the ring.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he growls.

“I was dancing before you interfered,” you snap back at him, rubbing your arm.

“Dancing?” he repeats with derision. “That’s what you call that?”

“I was having fun.”

“What the hell are you wearing?”

For the first time since you saw him with his woman of choice outside, you feel ridiculous, like a girl trying to look glamorous by donning her mother’s clothes.

“I wanted something a little different.”

“A little?” he hisses back. “Do you realize what you look like? You’re all tarted up and letting some guy grab at you and get you half naked in front of a bar full of people.”

“What I look like?”

“Everyone could see practically your whole goddamned body. They could see what you were letting him do to you.”

“You mean to say I look like a whore.”

Aleister crosses his arms and glances away, refusing to confirm what you’ve said.

“So what, Aleister? So what if I’m letting a man touch me and show me that he wants me? Who cares who else sees? Maybe that’s what I want!”

“Are you so stupid that you think he wants you for anything other than a one night stand?”

The accusation stabs at your heart and your confidence but you’re determined not to let him see that.

“Again, so what? Maybe I’m happy to have this big, gorgeous man want me. Maybe I’m fine bringing him back to my place for a few hours of fun because at least it means someone is thinking of me as a sexual being for a change.” You pause, knowing the danger of what you’re about to say but unable to stop yourself. “Maybe I’d be fine if he just took me outside and fucked me over the hood of a car.”

For a second, you think that Aleister is going to strangle you. The look on his face is like the moment before the sky erupts in thunder and lightning. Truthfully, you expect that he’ll turn on his heel and walk away from you and never come back, and perhaps that’s what you need him to do so that you can get over him.

Instead, he grabs you, pinning you to the side of his body and pulling you towards the door. His movements make you stumble, and the more you try to resist him, the more ungainly you look.

“She’s dead drunk,” you hear him assure a few people, “I’m going to make sure she gets home.”

And while it’s true that you are drunk, you’re not nearly as drunk as he’s making you out to be. The second he has you outside, you try to twist away from him and go back, only for him to wind you closer, pulling you off balance so that you look even more inebriated.

You hear him whisper to Seth Rollins, who’s observing the spectacle through the corner of his eyes. “Look, tell Roman that she’s falling down drunk and I just had to get her home. No disrespect meant.”

Seth has a confused expression on his face but nods and tells him, “Sure thing.”

Realizing what Aleister is doing, you once again try to rush past him, but he blocks you, gripping your arm and pulling you after him so that you really do appear pathetically unable to take care of yourself.

“Why the fuck are you doing this to me?” you shout at him, figuring that there’s no reason to worry about who might hear you, there being no further you can sink in their estimation. “Why can’t you just let me enjoy myself?”

“Jesus, Miranda, you’re loaded. You can barely stand up.” He emphasizes this by jerking your arm forward, which almost causes you to keel over onto your face. “You’re just embarrassing yourself.”

“No,” you insist, pulling yourself to a halt. “I knew what I was doing. I knew what I wanted. Sure I’m a bit tipsy but-“

“You don’t want that,” Alesiter snaps, threading his arm through yours and continuing down the street. “You don’t just want to whore yourself out for a night because you think it might help your self-esteem.”

“You don’t get to decide what I want, Aleister.” You’re crushed against his side and he’s moving so quickly that your feet only graze the ground every third or fourth step. “Let me go. I’m sick of playing the surrogate mother for someone who’s incapable of seeing me as a real woman. I want to go back there. I want to have someone make a show of wanting me. I want to get fucked so hard I can’t walk tomorrow.”

Aleister shakes his head like a parent frustrated with a misbehaving child. “Stop it. You’re being ridiculous.”

“So let me be ridiculous!” you yell back, trying unsuccessfully to extricate yourself from his grip. “What the hell is it to you? Are you worried that for once I’m not going to be there when you need a place to collapse at four in the morning?”

The two of you reach the corner where the alley meets the street and he swings you to face him, glowering at you with a terrifying expression, gripping your biceps so hard you know you’ll be bruised in the morning. He says nothing but stares at you until he whips his arm out and hails a taxi seemingly out of nowhere.

He launches you, there’s no other word for it, into the back seat of the car and snarls your address to the driver as your tears start to fall. The cabbie is noticeably uncomfortable with your quiet whimpering and seems confused by the fact that Aleister does nothing to comfort or engage you. He sits with his arms folded, scowling, until you arrive at your building. Reflexively, you reach for your purse only to have Aleister swat your hand away and pay the driver himself. You try to keep pace as he yanks you towards the door, but stumble because of your unsure footing in these strange heels and because your vision is glazed by the tears you’re fighting to hold in.

When Aleister pins you against the door and rummages through your purse to find your keys, it somehow feels more invasive than Roman gripping your ass for an entire bar full of people to see. You feel, for a moment, that he is looking at you with tenderness. But when the door opens, he simply guides you through it. As you hear it click shut, the last of your strength, physical and emotional, gives out and you drop to your knees, finally allowing the tears to fall. It’s a full-on ugly cry, punctuated by guttural, anguished sounds you’d never allow anyone else to hear. Despite everything, you desperately want to hear the door open again behind you and to hear him say that he’s realized he loves you.

But no, in the end, he’s just found it gross that the woman he sees as his caregiver might have another side. He found you pathetic in your overpriced dress and shoes. He knew that you were desperately trying to act like something you could never be: like someone who could compete with the perfected Instagram beauties he fucks every night. You could never be that. He knew that you were just a sad little woman decked out in a gaudy outfit. You’d never be that sexy, desirable person who stopped men dead in their tracks, no matter what your dance with Roman had temporarily led you to believe.

You’re on your knees for what seems like hours, choking on tears and snot and trying to restrain yourself from howling. Just as the sound overpowers you and a low wail escapes your lips, you’re startled by a pair of arms, familiar, tattooed arms wrapping around your waist from behind.

“Shh. There’s no need for any of that,” he grunts into your hair.

And while you’re shocked and thrilled that he actually stayed behind to make sure that you were ok, it’s also even more humiliating that he’s seen you fall apart so spectacularly. Your body feels limp with defeat and unable to react at all as he gathers you up and carries you into your bedroom, setting you gently on the edge of the bed. He rests his hand on yours for a moment and you’re able to stem the flow of tears until he stands up and heads back towards the door. This time, you’re determined to hold in the worst of your misery until you’re sure he’s gone, even though you can’t stop the tears from running down your face.

But after a few minutes of straining to hear the door close, you see Aleister return, a damp washcloth in hand, and he sits once again beside you on the edge of the bed. He presses the cloth, cool and soothing, against your cheeks and then holds your chin as he delicately wipes it across your face. It takes you some minutes to realize that he’s removing your smeared makeup, cleaning you off so that you look good as new, so that you look more like the plain girl who lets him into her home in the middle of the night, his touch filled with a tenderness that you never imagined him capable of. When he’s satisfied with his work, he tosses the cloth aside and wraps an arm around you, pulling you close against him. The sweetness of his friendly gesture makes you want to cry all over again but you choke it back, knowing that you’ll have plenty of time for that when he’s gone.

“Can I stay here tonight?” he whispers, the sound of his voice making you feel weak.

You nod and roughly pull back from him, unsure of your ability to stop yourself from throwing yourself at him and begging him to wreck you. You fumble with the zipper of your boots until Aleister slides off the bed and onto his knees and removes it for you. He glides his hand along your calf, up to your thigh and then moves to your other boot. As he slides it off, he presses his head against the side of your knee, giving the skin a light kiss before rocking back on his haunches. You know he’s being gentle with you because he feels sorry for you. He finds you pitiful, which is even worse than finding you asexual.

The feelings are too much for you to take and all you can think of is that you want to get into bed where you’ll be safe and where you can sleep off the nightmare your evening out has become. You clumsily shed your dress, stockings, bra and panties without thinking much of the fact that you have an audience. Why should it bother him seeing you naked, after all? Normally, you put on some nightclothes but you don’t even have the strength to bother. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that Aleister has turned his head towards the door. He’s embarrassed for you, the way you would be if a parent or sibling was undressing around you.

You crawl under the covers with a grumbled “good night” and immediately start to feel yourself drift off. You’re jolted back to wakefulness when Aleister climbs in beside you. In all the time you’ve known him, as many nights as he’s come and collapsed on your sofa, you don’t think he’s ever seen your bedroom. Now, having seen it, he’s apparently happy not to leave it, indulging in the comfort of your bed without even asking permission. It makes you a little self-conscious that you’re nude but it’s hardly the most humiliating thing to happen to you tonight, so you let yourself ignore it. If you can just fall asleep, this night will be over and you can begin the process of trying to forget it.

It’s only a matter of seconds, though, until you feel his body pressed against yours from behind, one hand coming to rest flat on your stomach and pushing you back against him so that you are acutely aware that you are not the only person naked in the bed. The hand on your stomach flutters downward until his fingers are moving lightly over your pussy, like he’s plucking the strings of a harp. His other arm wraps around your shoulders and keeps you flush against him, close enough that you can’t mistake the feeling of his erection against your back.

He presses his lips and tongue against your neck, making you whimper as you try to keep your heart rate stable. Your little noises seem to motivate him further, his touch becoming more insistent and one of his legs snaking over yours, pulling it back to give his hand greater access.

“Such a little fool,” he murmurs, his fingers stroking insistently along your fleshy folds. “Thinking I don’t see you as a sexual being.”

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, making you cry out- more from the shock than the pain. His mouth continues to move around your neck and shoulders, nipping and sucking on the skin there, his grip on you tightening until it’s nearly painful.

“What are you doing?” you manage to ask.

“Leaving marks,” he says matter-of-factly.

You’re at a loss for what to say, but are saved from having to answer as he pushes two fingers inside you, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit. You’re embarrassed that he must have felt how wet you were just from being in his presence but he says nothing, quickening his pace and giving satisfied little growls when his touch elicits gasps and cries of pleasure from you.

It’s pity, you remind yourself; what he’s doing to you, he’s doing it because he feels sorry for you and because he’s drunk and horny despite his encounter earlier in the evening. But the thought gets whisked away as he brings you closer and closer to what you’ve desperately needed from him for so long. You let out a little shriek when he removes his hand, unable to believe he’s so cruel as to bring you to the precipice and then deny you. But he simply flips you onto your back before pressing his fingers inside you once more, watching your reactions to be sure he’s hitting just the right spot before burying his face between your legs. His tongue, lips and fingers work together like an orchestra. Your knuckles are white from the force of clenching on the sheets and you’re biting down so hard on your lip to muffle the sounds you’re making that you’re worried your teeth will end up permanently embedded. He unexpectedly raises his head and stills the movement of his hand inside you and the shock is almost enough to make you start crying again. You look down at him, his eyes sparkling in the low light with an expression you can’t read.

“Why won’t you let me hear you?”

Because you don’t want him to know how good his merciful little gesture is making you feel. Because you don’t want to admit to yourself that it’s better than you’d imagined. Truthfully, whenever you’ve thought about the mechanics of sex with Aleister, you imagined that it would be fast and rough and hedonistic, much like his other sexual encounters seem to be. But he’s chosen this moment to take his time, to focus on his partner, rather than go for a quick, dirty fuck in a darkened corner.

You don’t tell him any of this, instead croaking out, “I’m shy.”

He raises himself up and over your body with the effortless grace of a serpent, pressing his head close to yours and kissing along your jawline.

“What do I have to do to make you not be shy?”

“I don’t know… I just… am.” You wriggle a little under him, turning your face away when he looks directly into your eyes.

He cups your face in one hand and runs the other, still wet with your juices, over your breast, teasing the nipple and making you shudder involuntarily.

“Am I moving too fast?”

You shake your head, not quite trusting your voice.

“Is there something that you’d enjoy more? Something you want me to do for you?”

You give him another little shake of the head.

“You don’t have to be shy with me. Whatever you want, I want you to tell me so I can give it to you. Anything.”

For the first time, he kisses you on the lips, his tongue, that still tastes of you, slides against yours and the hand at the side of your face slides to hold your neck, cradling your head so that you don’t have to tense any muscles to stay in that position. Your body has nothing it needs to do but experience the sensations he’s creating. Of course, you still answer his kiss, hungrily flashing your tongue against his, reveling in the light scrape of his lip ring against your lips. His hand glides back down between your legs, and even the proximity is enough to draw a couple of little mewls of pleasure. You feel him smile a little against your lips at the noises and he pulls away from the kiss.

“Am I making you feel good?”

You nod as he starts to work his fingers around your entrance once again.

“Do you want my mouth down there again?”

You nod even more vigorously than the first time but he shakes his head.

“Tell me. Say it out loud.”

You open your mouth to do so and he immediately thrusts his long fingers into your g-spot and your clit at once, making you yelp in pleasure. It’s almost enough to make you cum on its own but he eases the pressure before you reach that peak.

“Yes?” he asks again.

“Yes, fuck, yes!”

“Then let me hear you. Please.”

He returns his attention to your core and has you making all manner of unholy noises in short order. He expertly teases you and then holds back, so many times that when he does finally take you over the edge, you feel like you might pass out from the intensity of it. Your gasps for breath sound cavernous in the quiet room.

He keeps the palm of his hand firmly against you as he leans forward and presses his lips into your neck, letting out a satisfied purr every time an aftershock rolls through your body.

When he’s satisfied that you’ve fully come down, he raises himself up on his arms, giving just the hint of a smile when you grab onto his biceps to steady yourself.

He’s so rigid that he doesn’t even need a hand to guide himself into you. He simply presses forward in one slow but sure moment, his eyes closed as if it’s a kind of religious experience, not opening them until he’s fully seated inside you. It’s been long enough since you’ve been with anyone that the feeling of being stretched draws a little whimper from your throat. He remains still, his eyes open and bearing down on you with a delirious kind of excitement, aching prick twitching inside you, desperate to proceed but waiting for a signal that he can.

And it’s at that moment that you allow yourself to think that this isn’t pity or a drunken mistake, that he’s as hungry for you as you have been for him and that what’s happened tonight has just served to connect a circuit. The fiercely possessive look in his eyes as he watches you, the fury when he thought someone else was claiming you, the need to mark you to make you his, the flush of pure lust on his face and chest… it is just a little frightening, something you suspected was in him but never that it was focused on you. But you’ve always known you could handle his darkness if he let you in. So you thrust your hips a little and wrap your legs loosely around his waist to show him that he can continue. Just as he starts to move, he cups your face and presses his mouth to your ear.

“You deserve so much better.”

“Stop trying to make those decisions for me,” you moan, feeling your insides flutter with his movements.

“I’ve never felt anything like that jealousy.” He’s staring into your eyes as he confesses. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder pressing deeper inside you and gasping at the feeling. “Knowing that everyone could see how sexy and beautiful you are… And I’m an idiot for waiting for that to happen before I did anything, I just…”

He grimaces and slows his pace a little, obviously trying to prolong the sensation.

“You mean it?” You have to ask because you still can’t quite believe that this has been on his mind for all this time when he’s shown no sign of it to you.

“God yes,” he answers through gritted teeth, once again allowing himself to move faster and more urgently.

You can’t completely banish your fears that he’s going to regret this in the morning and just shut you out again but every second with him is pushing them further away. You lace your fingers through his hair, nipping at the shell of his ear as he lets out his own stream of desperate, lusty noises, running your nails gently down his back as he approaches his crescendo.

His head drops to your chest and he cries out as he releases inside you.

“Fuck I love you, fuck I love you, fuck I love you.” He repeats it like a mantra that brings him back down from his high, saying it a final time as he looks into your eyes.

Slowly, he rolls onto his side, gathering you close to him like he thinks an errant breeze might carry you away.

“I have…” he begins quietly, “… there’s a lot that goes on in my head… Bad things, I guess. I thought you’d run away. Or that I’d pull you down with me. I still don’t know that won’t happen.”

He looks so vulnerable that it makes your heart hurt but at the same time you have to stifle a smile.

“Well I’d rather you let me try to deal with it. I’m a lot tougher than you give me credit for being.”

His expression grows a little guilty and he nods. He wraps his arms tighter around you and you do the same until the two of you are lying in your bed, wound around each other.