#are people going to come at me for including ''pathetic'' moments?

[lacefuneral]

when i release my stede is femme comp y'all better appreciate me </3

[salemlunaa]

YOU’RE TRYING TOO HARD ꧂

burning yourself out over something so simple never ends well…

If you know me, have been following me for a while or frequent my posts, you might notice a pattern, I never use the word “enter” when it comes to the void/“I AM” state. I always use the words “tap in” or “induce”. Why? because you can’t enter something that IS you. It’s not possible,

you are the void,

you are I AM,

you are pure consciousness,

you are an awareness,

stop trying too hard, as soon as you think too hard about it, as soon as you look for “symptoms” as soon as you ask yourself if you’re “doing this right” youve fucked up. Why? because you are the operant power, let me ask you a question: who do you think you answer to? why are you asking if you’re doing this correctly when YOU’RE the god of your reality?

do you think you answer to these bloggers, including me, sitting back up after 5 minutes of “nothing happening” to go back to tumblr and double check the posts on here to see if you’re “doing it right”? do you think you answer to these success stories of people you don’t even know, copying what they did to the very detail so that you can shift? do you think you answer to the a million and one methods in this community, limiting yourself to thinking you cant shift if you dont do it like they did it, like that video said you should, like this specific blogger said you should? why are you answering to other people if YOU are the operant power, like you say in your affirmations? why are other people controlling you in YOUR reality? you are being sooo pathetic right now…

stop. trying. so. hard. this shit will always be as easy as breathing, this state of pure consciousness is owed to us

as a god you answer to no one, stop asking if you’re doing it right.

there’s nothing to do, just be

fuck methods and just be

get rid of this mindset that you have to work hard to shift/ tap into the void or “I AM”/ induce pure consciousness

get rid of this mindset that you have to put in any effort at all

get rid of this mindset that you need a method

although time is a concept, why are you putting hours of effort and energy into a routine to help you, what do YOU need help with? you’re a god, you don’t need a routine, just be.

As soon as you acknowledge that you are trying too hard to immerse yourself, take a step back for a second and remind yourself of the truth: no effort is needed!! Like i say, you can rack your brain so much that it drains you, trying to find the “cheat code”, and let me tell you, it won’t end well, and you will know that when in years time you are still here, still looking for “instant methods” all while living a life that you dread.

It should never be a chore, the second it feels that way or the second you feel that you’re draining yourself because you just “can’t seem to get it” take a step back, only for a moment, and calm yourself down because something that only takes you seconds is never that serious.

Relax, Deep breathing, Affirm “I AM”, Let go, that’s it. that’s all you need, nothing else, i PROMISE you

JUST BE, SIMPLY BECAUSE YOU CAN. NO EFFORT NEEDED!!🐆💋

also thank you to beyoncé for this gif and for letting me make this post (iykyk lmao)

[sematarygirls]

🐞 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── rafe sees anxious!reader's tramp stamp for the first time

cw: suggestive but mostly fluff, angst if you squint, curvy? reader, body image insecurities

       It wasn't like you were hiding it or anything. You certainly weren't ashamed of the permanent ink artwork embedded into your lower back. In fact, you had loved it ever since you got it done.

The problem was that you were self-conscious about your body. You weren't big enough to be considered plus sized, but you weren't small enough to be considered ideal either. You were in a weird middle zone that left you feeling utterly undesirable and completely at war with your body, which led you to wearing a lot of high-rise pants and other articles of clothing that obscured your body—your lower back included.

You also met Rafe in the winter. How he, the hottest guy in Kildare and maybe even the entire world, found you of all people attractive aside, the weather meant that you were never in bikinis or cropped shirts and shorts around him.

Those things combined with the fact that you were too scared to have sex with him meant that you had never been in a position where he had been able to catch a glimpse of it, leaving your boyfriend completely in the dark to your tattoo.

Plus, you sort of forgot it was there. After it healed and there was no longer pain or that persistent, unfathomably uncomfortable itch to remind you that you had gotten your skin altered forever, it was out of sight, out of mind.

Those things combined with the fact that you were too scared to have sex with him meant that you had never been in a position where he had been able to catch a glimpse of it, leaving your boyfriend completely in the dark to your tattoo.

Until you finally decided to stop being a nervous wreck and spend the night at his house. It was going to be completely innocent, nothing more than some cuddling and a slightly awkward moment of realization the morning after as you felt morning wood pressing against you for the first time. You were inexperienced, to say the very least.

He offered you some sweatpants with a drawstring and a shirt for you to wear, and since you had dreamed of this since you were 13, you had obliged, trying not to seem to excited at the thought of being in his clothes, enveloped by his scent. It just seemed like something oddly intimate and domestic, something you longed for.

You pulled your pants off and pulled his sweatpants on, tying the drawstring, but the pants still hung a little loose on your hips. You turned your back to him, lifting your shirt off, and just as you started to slip his shirt on, you heard his voice, making you freeze.

"What the fuck is that?" He asked, his obscenity mixed with shock making the sentence come out much harsher and more jarring than he had intended. He wasn't as angry as his tone intended. In fact, he was really fucking turned on and incredibly curious. His sweet, shy little girlfriend was hiding a tattoo in the sexiest spot he could imagine.

"What?" You asked, quickly pulling his shirt down and turning to him, your eyes wide with worry. Your mind, adept at overthinking every micro expression and shift in tone, immediately started running with possibilities, most prominently, that he had seen something about your body that he didn't like.

"The tattoo," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You didn't tell me you had a fuckin' tramp stamp."

"Oh," you replied softly, your blood rushing to your cheeks. Your mind immediately worried that he didn't like it, that maybe it would be a deal breaker or he'd think you were some kind of slut. "I-uh- I don't know..." You tried to explain yourself, stumbling over your words as your mouth struggled to catch up to your brain. "I guess I forgot about it," your excuse sounded pathetic even to your own ears as it left your lips, but you didn't have anything else to say, nothing that wasn't a string of apologies and pleas that he wouldn't leave you, anyway.

"You forgot you had a tattoo on your lower back?" He raised an eyebrow, sitting up on his bed and crossing his arms, his biceps bulging slightly. He didn't mean to sound like an asshole, but it was practically in his DNA. He was working on trying to be gentler with you, realizing when you needed him to be softer and when you liked him acting like sort of a dick, but working on were the operative words in that phrase. He wasn't quite there yet.

"It's just..." You struggled to find the words to explain. Rafe didn't have tattoos. He didn't know how easy it was to just forget that they were there. After a certain point, it just becomes a part of you that you're used to. You don't really think about it or perceive it as much as other people do. "I don't really see it because of where it is, so I- um- well, it's easy to forget that it's there... I guess?" You sounded completely unsure of yourself, to the point that you worried he might think you were lying, whether that was a valid concern or just your anxious brain trying to fuck with you, you weren't sure.

He leaned forward, saying nothing for a moment as his piercing blue eyes regarded you with a scrutinizing stare that made you feel like he could see right through you. You fiddled with the hem off his shirt, biting the inside of your cheek anxiously as your gaze darted around the room—you always overthought how much eye contact was the correct amount. "Turn around," he ordered after a moment, his voice low and gruff. "Let me see. Properly this time."

"What?" You asked, your eyes snapping to his and widening a fraction as you were caught off guard by his demand. You weren't entirely sure what you expected to be honest, maybe to be broken up with, or just chewed out for keeping a secret or getting such a tattoo in the first place, but for some reason, it hadn't occurred to you that he would want to look at it, really look at it.

"Turn around," he said again, his tone leaving no room for argument this time. He didn't like repeating himself, and he especially didn't like feeling like he was missing out on a piece of you, this girl that had taken him completely by surprise and made him forget that anyone else existed. "Now."

Your brain seemed to short circuit, and you stood there for a minute, blinking at him with your lips parted as if you were going to object, but instead, you simply turned around, holding your breath as you entered your natural state of constant worrying.

Your breath hitched slightly, your eyes squeezing shut in fear and anticipation as he gently tugged the shirt up, revealing your back. he tugged the sweatpants down ever so slightly to see the bottom of the tattoo, and you waited for what seemed like forever before finally feeling his warm fingers run along the healed ink.

The image depicted on your skin, like art on a canvass, was two swans, kissing to create a heart with their faces. One of them was lightly shaded, meant to depict a white swan, and the other was darkly shaded, meant to depict a black swan. It didn't have an explicit meaning to you. You just thought it was pretty and really liked swans, the fact that they mated for life speaking to your hopeless romantic heart.

His fingertips traced the line work, a gesture that was sensual and seemed to leave fire in its wake. He stared at it for a long while, such a beautiful and permanent piece of art on his girl in such an indirectly intimate area making something within stir.

"You hate it don't you?" You breathed out, the words falling from your lips in a concerned hurry faster than you could stop it. The silence was suffocating, not knowing what would come after making your skin crawl with anxiety.

"Face me," was all he said. He wanted to look you in the eyes when he said what he had to say, wanted to make sure you really heard him and understood that he meant what he said.

You turned back around to face him, looking down at him as he placed his hands firmly on your hips, pulling you forward to stand between his legs. Your brows were knitted in worry, looking down at him like you were going to burst into tears if he'd started laying into you. You really liked Rafe—it was too soon to say love but... you did—and that mixed with your people-pleaser tendencies made your stomach turn at the thought of upsetting him.

Realistically, you had no reason to be so nervous about his reaction. It was your body, you could do whatever you wanted to it, and you had gotten it before you two even got together, but your brain didn't really care about what was realistic; it only cared about worst case scenario and disappointing people.

"Baby, you are absolutely gorgeous, alright?" He said sternly, already aware that you were preparing yourself for the worst and probably working yourself up about it. "And, fuck, I mean this tattoo... it only makes you more sexy to me. You're fuckin' perfect."

Your cheeks heated up again, not with fear or embarrassment this time but at his compliment. You also visibly relaxed as the clarification that he wasn't mad soothed your nerves a tad. You let out a surprised giggle as he tugged you down onto his lap.

"You got any more sexy little tattoos hidden under these clothes?" He asked flirtatiously, flashing that panty-dropping smirk that made him look ten times more handsome, especially when he was gripping your thigh with one hand and holding you securely against him by your waist with his other.

"No," you smiled, tentatively wrapping your arms around his neck, not knowing if it was as attractive as it seemed in books. "Just that one. Sorry to disappoint," you continued, your voice soft as you bit your lip shyly—one of your many anxious habits.

"Mm," he hummed, dipping his head into the curve where your neck met your shoulder. "Shame," he murmured, placing soft kisses against your skin as you giggled. The tension in the room had completely dissipated, replaced by a lighthearted and flirty atmosphere.

Rafe knew you weren't ready to go further than just kissing, and he was going to wait for as long as you needed him to. Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't get horny at the idea of pounding into you from behind, your tattoo completely exposed for him to gawk at, but he knew baby steps were in order. He needed to get you okay with sex before he molded you into his little personal porn star.

                         ୭ৎ

author's notes .ᐟ   described my own tattoo as the one reader has, but if you have your own or want to imagine it as something else, feel free to do so! i just thought i should describe the tattoo for the story's sake <3

also, i know this is a little different from the giggly and jokey couple we saw in my other anxious!reader x boyfriend!rafe fic, and that is because this is toward the beginning of their relationship. reader is still trying to learn to be more comfortable with rafe enough to be herself and realize that he loves her, even it she doesn't like herself, and rafe has never done the relationship thing, especially not with a girl like reader, so he's still learning to express his emotions and be soft and warm with her the way he wants to and know she deserves.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @bradshawed / @fallbhind / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif / @fakedhearts / @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 /

[defmaybe]

Bahama

KISS OF LIFE’s Won Haneul x Male Reader

1.7k words

See Also: Sticky, Not Shy

A/N: Itzy fic with a Kiss of Life title, check. Aespa fic with an Itzy title, check. So, here we are, Kiss of Life fic with an Aespa title. Also, a bit exposition heavy in the beginning lmao. Thanks for reading as always!!!

–

Small, idyllic waves crash into the golden sand. Seagulls fly above your head. People run into the water. The scent of salt permeates the air. The sun is setting in front of you, casting orange into the sky. You’d be lying to say that you don’t like this place.

Department trip, electrical engineering to be exact, would’ve been a splendid chance for you to get closer to Won Haneul, the goddess you’ve been pining over for the last few months. You fell in love with her confidence—how she’s always not letting her voice be silenced. Her leadership—how she led your group to a standing ovation from the professor last semester. Her invulnerability—how she stands up for the minority (which includes you, once).

Two problems, though. She definitely doesn’t love you back. Only occasional hello-s and hi-s in the hallway, that’s all. And this trip has been far from productive. You couldn’t get close to her for less than a meter for the last thirty-six hours, and by tomorrow, this chance would fly away as you two have to go back to your mundane university lives.

The other problem is that everyone has also been pining over her, so your chances are negative.

–

You and Wonbin are sitting on the sand, watching the sunset together. What a sight. Both of you have been sipping your beers once every few minutes for a while now. You watch Haneul playing volleyball with her friends from afar, wearing a set of skimpy clothes you’ve been fantasizing about for the last few months. Black bra, short jeans that accentuate her ass so fucking well. You have to adjust your trunks every once in a while to hide that raging erection.

Not that it goes by without Wonbin noticing it, though.

“Fucking pervert,” he says with a giggle.

“What the fuck?” you sneer back at him, trying to deny your frenzy lust for Haneul.

“And I thought I’ve been the dirty one all this time.”

“Fuck off, man,” you curse, gauging off a laugh from Wonbin.

“You really like her that much, don’t you?”

You can only whimper back.

“Go talk to her! I’m sure she won’t mind.”

“I don’t know, man. She wouldn’t even bat an eye on me unless I’m in an accident or something.” You surrender to the hypothetical apathy of hers. How could a popular woman even come to pour an ounce of interest for you?

White screen, her in the middle, smiling, a single, large carnation blooming behind her.

Elegant.

She looks better alone than with you.

“I mean, I didn’t win Jiwoo’s heart by just looking at her from afar. Go talk to her!” Wonbin says with a chuckle, shrugging. “A simple ‘Hey’ wouldn’t hurt.”

“What if she doesn’t like me? You can’t just expect me to do that!” you reply, sighing.

“Look, it’s the only way, man. Stop putting women on the pedestal and your whole world will change,” he answers.

“Ugh, I just–” you lie down on the sand before closing your eyes. “–I can’t.”

Wonbin pats your shoulder before lying down beside you.

“Man.”

—

Your moment of peace lasts pretty long. If the weather isn’t so hot, you swear you could fall asleep right then and there. The sound of the sea fills your ear, with the images of Haneul in those shorts reeling in your mind. God, what a time.

Until you feel a cold sensation on your pants, freezing cold.

And you hear Haneul gasps.

“Shit, fuck, I–I’m sorry,” she apologizes, stuttering slightly.

Shit. She spills her watermelon frappe on the fabric. You can’t panic. Don’t fucking panic.

“O–Oh, it’s f–fine, Miss Won,” you stammer in the same fashion as hers, before realizing what you’ve just–

“Hmm?” she says, before letting out a laugh, one that’s probably out of you being a pathetic man.

Fuck.

“Miss Won?” Her laugh grows even louder.

Why not just end it all here? You sit there, frozen, until her snicker subsides.

“Oh, don’t be shy, mister,” Haneul says with a sly smile, offering you a hand to get up. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Again, I’m sorry for, well, that.”

“I–It’s fine, Haneul.” You comply with her invitation, reaching for her and getting up from the sandy floor. There goes your chance of her. It’s over. 

At least she’s still kind to you.

—

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

Haneul adeptly twists the tap, and warm water flows out of the shower head she’s holding onto your swimming trunk. It was supposed to get wet, anyway. It’s just not in the way you’ve expected it to be.

She takes you back to the villa to clean you up. Sure, you could’ve just walked into the sea for a cleanup session, but her insistence was hard to resist. So, here you are, in the bathroom together.

She smiles throughout this embarrassing act (at least for you), as if there’s something amusing to be found within washing watermelon frappe off a man’s private parts. You are in a frozen state in front of this deity, just half a meter away from you, unable to say a word aside from the high-pitched grunts from time to time, bringing out laughs from her.

Until she clears her throat.

“Can I say something?” Haneul asks, eyes darting away from you, finding comfort in other objects around the room.

“Y–Yeah, sure.”

“Um…” She blinks rapidly, only able to maintain just a split second of eye contact with you. Is she finding you repulsive?

Anticipation hangs heavy. Both of you cannot say a thing under the silence. You watch her evading your eyes.

“Nothing,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ears. “We should get going.”

It’s over.

“Yeah,” you reply, before patting the last bit of the red chunk away as she turns off the water. “Thanks, Haneul.”

It ends here—your chance with her. At least you two can still be friends.

You turn back, ready to open the do–

“Wait.”

The word holds you accountable for a hot breath longer.

She turns the tap back on. But this time, she aims for your abdomen. Water trickles down your body.

“W–Woah, what the–”

A kiss on your lips silences you.

You take in her scent of sweat mixed with an otherworldly hypnotic perfume—salty, floral. Her tongue invades your mouth with ease, sweeping the insides of your warm cavern. The shower head is pressed between your bodies; water is running down and makes her frame wet alongside you. Fireworks are everywhere; people are cheering and clapping their hands; music is playing.

Won Haneul kisses you—with tongue.

She unlatches herself off of your lips, panting for air. “F–Fuck, that was great.”

You’re at a loss for words, still processing the kiss that happened mere seconds ago.

“Kneel for me, please.”

Without a single thought, you fall to your knees. The scent of her only serves to drive you insane.

Haneul would say nothing before slowly, so, so slowly, peeling off her incredibly tight shorts, revealing black panties underneath that matched her bra.

“Like the view, baby?” she asks.

You nod without resistance.

“Good boy,” she says, before softly pushing your damp head onto her equally wet cunt from the running water. And instinctively, you stick your tongue out and lick her clothed folds like some starving whore, drawing a gasp from her.

“Fuck!” exclaims Haneul. Her grip on your head becomes tighter. The pain stings, but your determination is unwavering. Your tongue keeps its pace on the soft fabric just for her pleasure. She just cannot whine louder at your touch.

The hint of her salty taste seeps through the dark fabric, diluted by the trickling water from the shower. Her fingers run along your hair, sending you into haywire, but you need even more.

Your hands seem to have minds of their own. They slither up her soft, toned legs, up the luscious thighs. They’re so firm. Until you reach the tenderness of her ass you’ve been craving for.

“Yes!” she screams, mouth opening wide, moaning. She pushes your head against the wall. The sound of the water still rings in your ear, dribbling down from your pressed head. It mixes with her thunderous moans into a cacophony. “Y–You’re gonna make me cum.”

Her legs turn stiff. Her breaths become more erratic and frenzy. You keep your pace, you have to. Going faster will kill the momentum. You keep lapping up her juices through those skimpy black panties, tasting that salt running out of her pretty cunt. The spilling softness in your hands only drives you further into mania.

And a loud gasp is all it takes for you to see heaven.

Fuck.

Her legs cease to stand up straight. Her grip on your head loosens as she becomes a wobbly mess. A high note echoes through the bathroom. Someone must’ve heard that, but you’re not in a position to care. You’ve just had the best meal of your life that is Won Haneul’s cunt.

“Fuck, shit,” she exclaims, as she’s coming down from her high. She lets go of your head. But as if you’re magnetized to her cavern, you keep slurping up her tangy juices through the revealing garment—any of what’s left. You can just do this forev–

“A–Alright, I know I taste good, baby.” The water is still running, washing any filth of the mere minutes ago away.

It takes a lot of self-reservation to put yourself out of her cunt. That salty, mouthwatering cunt. You whine a little as you pull your head back.

She washes the dirtiness on you with the water before turning it off, hanging the head back into its place.

“Thanks,” you reply with a smile.

“C’mon, let’s go to the sea. Maybe tonight–” she slithers her hand down into your shorts, groping your length—grabbing, squeezing, stroking, all in a flash. “–I’ll give you more than my lips.

The touch alone puts you back in your place. “Y–Yes, Haneul.”

—

[sky-high-standards]

Yandere Emperor x fem reader

set in medieval times. usual warnings y'all should know the drill by now☺

Your kingdom was being invaded and everyone did what they could to save it but the invaders were too strong you watched so many innocent people being slaughtered by the invaders and the survivors were taken hostage including you.

These invaders were sent by the emperor who was a cold and merciless man until he met you~

You were taken into the magnificent palace where you were forced to work for the emperor's wife Imelda, she was an extremely insufferable woman and treated all of her servants like crap. It wasn't the best life, but it could be far worse but unfortunately Imelda and the Emperor were having a rough patch and rumors said he was having multiple affairs with other women, so she was worse than usual.

You were on your way to bring Imelda her breakfast when someone bumped into to you and that person just happened to be the emperor you looked up at him wide eyed and covered in Imelda's breakfast and apologized profusely while he just stared at you he didn't look angry all he did was stare at you as you quickly collected everything and bowed before you ran off but little did you the moment he saw you that nervous look on you face got him excited in a way that no woman including Imelda had ever done something about you just caught his attention.

You walked into Imelda's room to see her crying on the floor you asked her what happened an she totally lost it.

Imelda: That's none of your concern you pathetic slave your lucky to be here but remember your place and stay out it!!!

You then left not wanting to deal with her again. It turns out that the king had just gotten tired of her and sent her off which was great news for everyone since they didn't have to deal with her anymore. Naturally the Emperor had to remarry so he had many beautiful women come to the palace where he would choose his new bride due to you being a servant you had to assist the women being sent but the strange thing was that each time a woman was being presented, he glanced at you for every single one it was as confusing to the emperor as it was to you he was just drawn to you every time he saw you a wave of excitement and...love? came over him that he wasn't used to.

Eventually he chose a wife she was very beautiful and seemed like a very suitable wife, but he never got that feeling when he was around her. The emperor's wife whose name was Miranda was very kind and caring and even befriended you she was great in every possible way, but everyone could feel the emperor didn't love her so poor Miranda made it her mission to win his affection yet nothing worked so she slowly began to give up on his affection while u didn't have to try you started to see the emperor a lot more often and you noticed his cold crystal blue eyes following you as you cleaned and unbeknownst to you it took a great deal of strength to restrain himself from pouncing of you and making you his he would go feral on the inside when you bend down to clean in his bedroom it was embarrassing how you didn't even have to do much to make him hard.

Slowly the emperor tried to have you around more to ease his hunger like "accidentally" brushing his hand against yours or having you bend down to get his pen that he "accidentally" dropped. All he wanted to do was make you his to own every inch of you, but he restrained himself, but it got harder to each time almost as if you were teasing him.

Tell me if I should make a part 2 I'm tired rn

Stay hydrated and safe love Y'all

[elryuse]

Show Must Go On

Ahyeon & BABYMONSTER X Male Reader

Tags : Romance, Angsty, Depressing, Hopeful, Fluff, Depth

Words : 11+k Words

Warning : This Is a Completely Made-up story. If there are any Names or Characters that Are similar. I do not mean to do any harm, and This story includes angsty stuff

A/n : I Kinda have this Whole Story in mind. And Since I can't sleep, Why not try to make it alive. If you all Enjoyed it, I might make A Sequel in the Future.

!Tragic News, Ladies and Gentlemen!

The air was thick with grief as the news broke. BABYMONSTER’s Ahyeon had been in a terrible accident.

Rumors spread like wildfire—whispers of reckless driving, an ex-boyfriend behind the wheel, and a devastating crash that sent their car slamming into a semi-truck. The impact was brutal. Ahyeon was left with fractured heels and both arms shattered—her body broken, her future uncertain.

As she was rushed to the ICU, her fellow BABYMONSTER members were seen in tears, standing helplessly outside the operation room. Fans swarmed the hospital, their worried voices echoing through the halls, praying for any sign of hope.

Days passed in agonizing silence. Then, finally—she survived.

But survival came at a cost.

Ahyeon would be unable to walk for months. She would have to drastically slow down in an industry where every second counted. The once-rising star was now in limbo, placed on an indefinite hiatus that left fans wondering: Would she ever come back.

The air felt colder than usual as I slowly opened my eyes.

I was awake. Alive.

And yet, I wished I wasn’t.

My legs were numb. My arms ached like hell. The room was a mess—soju bottles scattered across the floor, empty, just like me. I didn’t even remember how much I drank. Anything to dull the pain, to silence the thoughts, to drown in my own oblivion.

It had been months since the accident.

That bastard.

That pathetic excuse of a man.

But it wasn’t just him. I was angry at everything. At myself, at my members, at fate itself. I hated God for doing this to me.

I was supposed to be on stage, dancing, singing, basking in the love of my fans. Instead, I was rotting away in this dark room, my body fragile, my future stolen.

I knew the others were moving on without me. Comeback after comeback, performance after performance—without me.

And I hated them for it.

Ruka and Chiquita visited often. The others? Too busy, they said. Chiquita would sit beside me, trying to cheer me up. She told me how much BAEMON missed me, how much the fans were waiting.

And God, I missed them too.

I missed the thrill of performing. I missed the cheers, the lights, the energy. I missed feeling alive.

But I couldn’t face them.

I wasn’t Ahyeon anymore.

I was just a broken girl trapped in a broken body.

That is, until I met him.

You.

The moment you walked into my life, I felt something I hadn’t in a long time.

Curiosity.

You weren’t like the others. You were different.

Our new song producer, Y/n.

A rookie, just like us. Young, bright-eyed, hopeful. You greeted everyone with warmth, your smile never wavering. Even when you knew I wasn’t part of this comeback, you still tried to get to know me.

I hated it.

It felt fake. Too friendly. Too… hopeful.

Hope was something I had long abandoned.

Yet, you never gave up.

You snuck into my room, bringing warm meals, even soju. At first, I thought you were just another fake. A creep.

So I pushed you away.

And instead of insisting, you apologized.

You backed off, respecting my space, promising you wouldn’t bother me anymore.

And that’s when I started missing you.

I didn’t know why. But I did.

Watching you laugh with my members, seeing how easily you fit in with them—it felt weird. Like I was an outsider to my own family.

You kept coming to the dorm, sneaking in forbidden meals—tteokbokki, jokbal, all the things we weren’t supposed to eat.

And for the first time in forever, we felt human.

We weren’t just idols, we were people.

You reminded us of who we were before the industry caged us.

And that’s when I realized—I had made a mistake.

You weren’t trying to replace me.

You were trying to save me.

You wanted me to fight. To stand back up. To be Ahyeon again.

But the world wouldn’t allow it.

YG saw how close you had gotten to us. They didn’t like it. They didn’t like you.

And before we could do anything, they fired you.

Just like that.

We begged them to reconsider. We explained everything. But they didn’t care.

We were idols.

And idols don’t get to choose who stays or who leaves.

You were gone.

And we were back to square one.

The Last Words You Left Me With

Time passed. I healed. Slowly. Painfully.

I could dance again. A little.

But the doctor kept warning me not to push myself.

And yet, I wanted to.

I needed to.

Because your words still echoed in my mind—

"Be yourself, Ahyeon."

"You don’t need to blame the universe anymore."

"You’re not a misfortune."

"What happened to you, what happened to everyone—it’s a blessing, and a lesson."

"I know it seems hard to accept. But sooner or later, you’ll understand."

That was the last thing you ever said to me.

The last thing before they took you away.

And now, as I stand here, dancing once more, rehearsing for our latest comeback—DRIP—I hear Ruka’s voice behind me.

"What’s wrong, Ahyeon?"

I stop.

My heart pounds faster and faster.

And for the first time in a long time…

I know the answer.

The scent of sizzling meat and freshly steamed rice filled the air as I wiped my hands on my apron. The dinner rush had finally settled, and for once, I could take a breath.

I never thought I’d end up here—working part-time at a small restaurant after everything that happened.

Music had been my life. BABYMONSTER had been my life.

But now, it was nothing more than a distant memory.

I still followed their updates, of course. I watched their performances from behind a screen, listening to the songs I never got the chance to produce. I wondered if their new producer treated them with kindness, if he saw them as people, not just idols.

I hoped so.

I prayed for it.

Because if he didn’t…

Then what was the point of all this?

I was in the middle of serving a table when I noticed them.

Two girls, sitting in the farthest corner of the restaurant. They wore caps, oversized hoodies, and sunglasses, but even with the disguises, I knew instantly.

Ruka and Chiquita.

For a moment, I froze.

They hadn’t seen me yet. They were chatting in hushed voices, occasionally glancing around, making sure no one recognized them.

And then, Chiquita laughed—a soft, familiar laugh.

God. I missed them.

I took a deep breath, walked up to their table, and placed a tray of warm dishes in front of them.

"Would you ladies like anything else?" I asked casually.

They both stopped mid-conversation.

Chiquita turned to me first, brows furrowing behind her shades. Then her lips parted slightly, realization dawning.

Ruka lowered her sunglasses just enough for me to see the shock in her eyes.

"No way."

I grinned. "Long time no see, huh?"

Chiquita gasped, practically jumping in her seat. "Oh my God—Y/n! What are you doing here?!"

I chuckled, scratching the back of my head. "Working, obviously."

"But—why? What happened to producing?" Ruka asked, her voice softer, more hesitant.

I hesitated.

How was I supposed to answer that?

That YG tossed me aside like I was nothing? That the dream I had fought for, bled for, had slipped through my fingers overnight?

I forced a small smile. "It’s a long story."

Ruka looked like she wanted to say something, but Chiquita was already tugging on my arm, eyes wide with excitement.

"You have no idea how much we missed you."

My chest tightened at her words.

"Yeah?" I said, trying to sound playful, but my voice came out quieter than I expected.

"Yeah." Ruka nodded. "Ahyeon too."

I froze.

"How is she?" I asked carefully.

Chiquita grinned. "Better. She’s been working hard. She can dance again, Y/n. It’s not like before, but she’s getting there."

Something in me relaxed.

I had spent so many nights wondering if she was okay, if she had healed—not just physically, but emotionally. I had been terrified that she would never find the strength to stand back up again.

But hearing this…

Hearing that she was fighting—

It made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I hadn’t completely failed her.

We spent the next few hours talking.

Catching up.

Reminiscing about the past.

They told me about Baemon’s comeback, about the new songs, about how things had changed—and how, in some ways, they hadn’t.

I told them about my life now, about the restaurant, about how I still missed music.

We laughed.

We shared stories.

And for a little while, it felt like nothing had changed at all.

Until I glanced at the clock.

It was late.

Too late.

"You guys should go home," I said, standing up. "If your managers find out you were out this long, they’ll kill you."

Chiquita groaned. "Ugh, don’t remind me."

Ruka smirked. "We snuck out. We’ll be fine."

I raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

Chiquita sighed, finally relenting. "Fine, fine. But we’re coming back."

I smiled, shaking my head. "Do what you want. Just don’t get caught."

They stood up, both of them hesitating for a second before Chiquita suddenly lunged forward, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug.

"We really, really missed you, Y/n."

I felt my throat tighten.

I hugged her back. "I missed you guys too."

Ruka didn’t say anything, but she reached out, giving my shoulder a small squeeze.

And then, just like that, they were gone.

Leaving me standing there, wondering if I would ever really see them again.

The stage was set.

BABYMONSTER stood at the center of the vast, dimly lit arena, their breaths shallow, hearts pounding against their ribcages as they stared out at the thousands of fans gathered before them. The air was thick with anticipation, the sound of the crowd humming like an electric current, waiting for the first note to drop.

Their latest album, "Forsaken," had been their most grueling project yet—physically, emotionally, and mentally.

They had given everything.

Blood, sweat, and tears.

Not just for themselves.

But for Ahyeon.

This was the first comeback where all seven of them would stand together again.

Ahyeon, dressed in a sleek black outfit that shimmered under the stage lights, took a deep breath. The weight of the moment sat heavy on her shoulders. Months of pain, struggle, and isolation had led her here. She had fought through rehabilitation, doubt, and the whispers of people who claimed she’d never be the same.

And yet—here she was.

Stronger than ever.

Chiquita reached out, giving Ahyeon’s hand a small, reassuring squeeze. Ruka, standing beside her, nodded silently, as if telling her, We’re with you.

Ahyeon swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in her throat.

The lights dimmed.

The bass dropped.

And then—

The music began.

From the very first verse, BABYMONSTER commanded the stage with a presence that sent shockwaves through the arena. Their movements were sharper, more intense. The choreography had been pushed to its limits, their vocals raw with emotion.

Each line, each step, was fueled by anger, passion, and an unbreakable will to prove themselves.

Ahyeon moved like fire, her presence undeniable. She wasn’t just performing. She was fighting. Fighting for everything she had lost. Fighting for the future she refused to let go of.

The song built up to its climax, and in that moment—when Ahyeon hit the high note that once seemed impossible for her to reach again—the entire stadium roared.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall.

Instead, she pushed forward, harder than ever.

By the time the performance ended, they were breathless.

The audience erupted into deafening screams. Fans waved their lightsticks wildly, their chants of "BABYMONSTER! BABYMONSTER!" shaking the very foundation of the venue.

The members turned toward each other, their eyes gleaming with exhaustion, relief, and something else—victory.

Ahyeon felt Chiquita throw an arm around her shoulder, while Asa and Haram exchanged proud smiles. Rami wiped a stray tear from her eye, and Pharita grinned, flashing a thumbs-up.

And Ruka—Ruka simply nodded, a silent message passing between them.

They did it.

They had taken everything—the pain, the struggles, the doubt—and turned it into something breathtaking.

This comeback wasn’t just about returning to the stage.

It was a declaration.

A resurrection.

And for the first time in a long time, Ahyeon felt like she was finally, truly alive.

Meanwhile…

A lone figure stood at the back of the arena, away from the flashing cameras and roaring crowd.

Dressed in a simple hoodie and jeans, he blended into the sea of spectators, but his eyes never wavered from the stage.

From her.

Y/n watched as Ahyeon stood under the blinding lights, radiating strength he hadn’t seen in so long.

His heart ached, a mix of pride and something far more painful twisting inside him.

He had always believed in her.

Even when she didn’t believe in herself.

And now, seeing her shine brighter than ever, he realized—

She didn’t need him anymore.

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at his lips.

Maybe this was how it was always meant to be.

She was a star, after all.

And he…

He was just someone who had once helped her find her way back to the sky.

With one last lingering glance, Y/n turned around—disappearing into the shadows.

Ahyeon felt it.

That familiar presence.

Even through the blinding lights, the deafening cheers, and the overwhelming emotions coursing through her veins—she knew he was there.

Y/n.

She had set her eyes on him from the very beginning, even when she pretended not to care. Even when she tried convincing herself that she had moved on.

But the moment she saw that silhouette in the distance, standing at the very back of the arena, her heart clenched so painfully it was almost unbearable.

She wanted to scream, to run toward him.

But instead—

She watched him turn away.

Leaving.

Again.

As if everything they had shared, everything he had meant to her, had been nothing more than a fleeting moment in his life.

A sharp sting burned in her chest, and before she could stop herself—tears spilled from her eyes.

The crowd gasped.

Her body trembled, breaths coming out in short, broken gasps.

The other members immediately noticed.

"Ahyeon?!" Ruka turned to her, voice filled with concern.

Chiquita reached out, her expression full of worry, "Are you okay?"

The panic spread quickly. The audience, the staff, even the cameramen capturing the live broadcast—everyone held their breath.

Ahyeon was crying.

On stage.

Something that had never happened before.

The air grew heavy with tension—until Rami, sensing the need to diffuse the moment, stepped in.

With a soft smile, she took Ahyeon’s hand and spoke into her mic.

“Ahyeon’s crying because she missed this. The fans, the stage, and… everyone.”

The crowd erupted into loud cheers, believing her words without question.

But the members knew better.

Ruka's grip on Ahyeon’s arm tightened slightly, a silent way of saying, We’ll talk later.

Chiquita didn’t look convinced either, her gaze flickering toward the direction Ahyeon had been staring at just moments ago.

And Ahyeon—

She stood there, biting her lip, trying to hold herself together.

Even as the performance ended.

Even as they bowed to the audience.

Even as they exited the stage.

Her mind was stuck on one thing.

Y/n left.

And this time, she didn't want to let him go.

The night was supposed to be fun.

A simple, reckless joyride with my boyfriend, who had always been a little too careless, a little too impulsive. I should've known better.

The city lights blurred past us as he laughed, his hands barely gripping the steering wheel properly.

"Slow down," I murmured, trying to sound casual despite the unease creeping up my spine.

"Relax, babe! We're just having fun!" He grinned, stepping on the gas.

The car lurched forward.

The roads twisted and turned, but he didn't slow down. Instead, he swerved-zigzagging like a child playing a game.

"STOP!" I screamed, my hands gripping the seatbelt.

But he didn't.

And then

Impact.

A deafening crash.

The sound of metal crumpling.

My world spun violently as glass shattered around me, raining down like deadly stars.

Then-silence.

I could hear my heartbeat.

Slow. Faint.

Pain. Everywhere.

I tried to move, but my body wouldn't listen.

My arms-twisted, broken.

My legs-unresponsive.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't scream.

The taste of blood coated my tongue as my vision flickered. I turned my head-barely.

My boyfriend was slumped over the steering wheel, motionless.

Sirens wailed in the distance, but they felt so far away.

Everything felt so distant.

I wasn't even sure if I was still alive.

I closed my eyes.

And when I opened them again

I was in a hospital bed.

The room was white, sterile, suffocating. My entire body ached, and when I tried to move-nothing.

The realization sank in slowly, painfully.

I wasn't the same anymore.

Then the doctor came in, his expression unreadable.

He told me the damage was severe. That my heels were fractured. That both my arms were completely broken.

And then, with a tone too gentle, too apologetic, he said the words that destroyed me.

"You may never be able to dance or sing like before."

I forgot how to breathe.

The walls closed in on me.

No.

No, this wasn't happening.

My future-ruined.

The career I worked my entire life for-gone.

I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a choked sob.

My body shook as reality crushed me, shattering everything I thought I was.

I wasn't Ahyeon, the center of Babymonster.

I wasn't Ahyeon, the girl with dreams so big they touched the stars.

I was just

Nothing.

The warmth surrounding me was unfamiliar, yet comforting. As my heavy eyelids slowly fluttered open, the dim glow of the early morning seeped through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room.

I could feel them.

Their breaths, slow and steady, their bodies pressed close against mine—my members.

Chiquita had her arms wrapped around my waist, her face buried against my side. Rami rested near my shoulder, while Asa and Pharita were tangled together at the edge of the bed. Even Haram, who usually preferred sleeping in her own space, had curled up near my feet.

And Ruka—

The first one to stir.

I felt her shift beside me, her presence familiar and grounding. A moment later, I heard her sigh softly.

"Ahyeon…" Her voice was quiet, hesitant. "You're awake."

I didn’t respond.

I couldn’t.

The remnants of my nightmare still clung to me like chains, dragging me back to that night—the accident, the pain, the hopelessness. I could still feel it.

Ruka sat up slightly, brushing strands of hair from my face as her gaze softened. "What happened?" she asked, concern lacing her words.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned my head away.

Silence.

A single tear escaped, trailing down my cheek.

Ruka saw it.

Without hesitation, she reached out, her fingers gently wiping it away.

She didn’t press for answers.

Didn’t force me to speak.

Instead, she just stayed.

A deep sigh escaped her lips before she leaned closer, resting her forehead against mine.

"We'll see him again," she whispered.

I froze.

My heart clenched.

She didn’t need to say his name. I already knew.

Y/n.

The person who had saved me in ways no one else could.

The warmth he brought into our lives, the small moments of joy he had given us—me.

The one person I couldn’t afford to lose again.

I closed my eyes, inhaling shakily.

I wanted to believe her.

That one day, somehow, we’d see him again.

The scent of sizzling meat filled the air as I moved between tables, balancing a tray of steaming dishes. The dinner rush had just begun, and the small restaurant was packed with customers.

It had been months since I left YG. Months since I walked away from the music industry—the very thing I had dedicated my entire life to.

And yet, no matter how much time passed, I couldn’t forget.

I still missed it. The late-night studio sessions, the endless brainstorming for the perfect melody, the way music could breathe life into the lifeless.

But more than anything—

I missed them. Babymonster.

I shook my head, pushing the thoughts away as I placed a plate of tteokbokki on a customer’s table.

Then, just as I turned to grab another order—

I saw her.

Ruka.

She was standing near the entrance, wearing a hoodie and a cap, her long hair tucked behind her ears. Despite the attempt at a disguise, I could recognize her instantly.

But something was wrong.

Her eyes—normally filled with confidence, strength—were dull. Weary. She stood there, unmoving, her fingers clutching the strap of her bag so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

I immediately stepped forward, concern flooding my chest.

"Ruka?" My voice was cautious, careful. "What are you doing here?"

She looked up at me, her lips pressing together as if she was trying to find the right words. But she said nothing.

Instead, she lowered her head.

And then—

A tear slipped down her cheek.

I froze.

Ruka never cried.

She was the strongest out of all of them, the pillar that held everyone together. Seeing her break down like this—seeing the weight of something so unbearable pressing against her shoulders—made my stomach twist.

"Hey, hey…" I quickly set my tray aside and stepped closer, placing a hand on her back. "Talk to me. What’s going on?"

She sniffled, swallowing hard before whispering, "Ahyeon."

My heart stopped.

I tightened my grip on her shoulder. "What happened to Ahyeon?"

Ruka inhaled sharply, as if she was struggling to keep her emotions in check. "She’s… she’s not okay, Y/n." Her voice cracked. "She’s trying to act like she is, but I see it. We all see it."

I stayed silent, waiting.

"She cries when she thinks no one is watching. She barely eats. She’s pushing herself too hard, forcing herself to smile when she’s hurting inside." Ruka clenched her fists. "Ever since you left, it’s like she’s just… drifting."

I felt my chest tighten.

Ahyeon.

The girl who once radiated fire and determination. The girl who fought through everything to chase her dreams.

And now, she was falling apart.

Ruka exhaled shakily, her voice almost pleading. "She needs you, Y/n."

I swallowed hard.

I had promised myself I wouldn’t go back. That I wouldn’t step into that world again.

But this wasn’t about me anymore.

This was about her.

The ride to their dorm was quiet.

Ruka sat beside me in the backseat of a black van, her arms crossed, eyes staring out the window. She had stopped crying, but the heavy weight in the air remained.

I, on the other hand, could feel my heart pounding against my ribs.

I didn’t know what to expect.

It had been months since I left. Months since I had last seen them. Since I had last seen her.

And now, here I was—returning like nothing had happened.

As the van pulled up to the familiar building, I hesitated for a brief moment. Was this the right thing to do?

Before I could dwell on it, Ruka stepped out first, turning back to glance at me. “Come on.”

I followed.

She led me through the hallway, each step bringing back memories I thought I had buried. The late-night talks. The laughter. The music.

Then, finally—

We stopped in front of the door.

Ruka knocked twice before pushing it open.

The moment I stepped inside, everything hit me at once.

The warmth of the dorm. The familiar scent of vanilla candles. The soft hum of the heater running in the background.

And then—

Them.

The members turned towards the door, and for a second, there was silence.

No one moved. No one spoke.

Then, in a heartbeat—

They ran to me.

"Y/n!"

Before I could react, I was engulfed in their embrace. Rami clung onto my arm. Pharita buried her face against my shoulder. Chiquita was holding onto my back, muttering how much she missed me. Asa had her arms wrapped around my waist. Rami was blinking away tears, trying to stay composed.

It was overwhelming.

I never expected this.

I had convinced myself that they had moved on. That I was nothing more than a passing figure in their lives. But now—

Now, I could feel it.

I had meant something to them.

And then, amidst the overwhelming warmth of their embrace—

I saw her.

Ahyeon.

She sat on the edge of her bed, frozen in place. Her breath hitched, her eyes wide with disbelief.

I felt my chest tighten.

She looked… different.

Paler. Thinner. The usual spark in her eyes had dulled.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Instead—

Tears fell.

One by one, streaming down her face as her lips trembled.

Then, suddenly—

She moved.

Ahyeon shot up from her bed, running straight towards me before throwing her arms around my neck.

She sobbed.

Not just tears—but a raw, painful cry.

I felt her fists clench against my back as she buried her face into my shoulder, her body trembling.

I could only hold her tighter.

No words were needed.

I was here.

And I wasn’t leaving again.

I held Ahyeon close, her body trembling against mine. Her sobs slowly quieted, but her grip on my shirt didn’t loosen.

I ran a gentle hand down her back, whispering, "It’s okay, Ahyeon. I’m here."

She sniffled, her breath shaky. "You left," she choked out, voice fragile. "You left me, Y/n."

Her words cut deep.

I wanted to say I didn’t have a choice. That it wasn’t my fault. That YG had forced me out. But none of that mattered now.

Instead, I leaned back slightly, resting my forehead against hers. "I know," I admitted. "And I’m sorry. But I’m here now."

She closed her eyes, shaking her head. "I want to believe you," she whispered. "I want to believe in everything again. In myself. In my future. But…"

Her voice broke.

"The nightmares don’t stop."

I felt my chest tighten.

"Every time I close my eyes, I see it," she confessed. "The accident. The crash. The pain. I hear the doctors telling me I might never dance again. I see my members moving forward while I stay behind. I feel useless. Worthless."

Her grip on my shirt tightened. "I don’t want to be weak, Y/n. But I… I don’t know how to be strong anymore."

I exhaled softly, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. "You don’t have to be strong all the time, Ahyeon. It’s okay to be scared."

She blinked up at me, eyes glossy.

"But you’re not alone. Not anymore."

The members, who had been silently watching, moved closer.

Ruka knelt beside us, taking Ahyeon’s hand. "We’re with you, Ahyeon. Every step of the way."

Chiquita nodded, her voice gentle. "You’re not worthless. You’re our sister."

Haru smiled through teary eyes. "And no matter how long it takes… we’ll wait for you."

Ahyeon looked at them—her family.

For the first time in months, something flickered in her gaze.

Hope.

She swallowed hard, then turned back to me. "What if I fail?"

I smiled softly. "Then we’ll pick you back up."

A shaky breath escaped her lips. "And if I fall again?"

I squeezed her hand. "Then we’ll catch you."

Silence stretched between us.

Then—

She let out a small, broken laugh.

It wasn’t much.

But it was a start.

Days passed, and with Ruka’s help, I found myself sneaking into their dorm more often. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A small act of defiance against the system that had tried to break them.

Late at night, while the world slept, I stood in their kitchen, chopping vegetables and simmering broths. Warm meals. Nutritious meals. Food that would give them strength—not just physically, but emotionally.

Asa and Rami soon caught on, peeking into the kitchen one night as I was stirring a pot of kimchi jjigae.

"Oppa, what are you making?" Asa asked curiously, leaning over the counter.

Rami’s eyes widened as she inhaled the aroma. "That smells so good… Can we help?"

I chuckled, handing them cutting boards and knives. "Only if you’re serious about learning."

They grinned, eagerly rolling up their sleeves.

The kitchen became lively—filled with the sound of chopping, sizzling, and laughter. It had been so long since they’d had moments like this. Moments that felt normal.

Ahyeon, who had been hesitant to join at first, eventually wandered in, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"What are you guys doing?" she asked, crossing her arms.

I smirked, holding up a spoonful of soup. "Making something for you."

She hesitated, then sat down at the counter, watching us.

It was a slow process, but every day, she smiled a little more.

Every day, her voice grew stronger.

Every day, she became more herself.

And I knew—

This was just the beginning.

The more time I spent with Ahyeon, the deeper my feelings grew. They crept in, subtle at first, like a quiet undercurrent in the midst of a raging sea. She would laugh at something I said, her eyes sparkling, and I could feel it—my heart tightening in a way I couldn’t explain.

But it wasn’t just the way she smiled.

It was the way she tried, even when the world was against her. How she picked herself up each time she fell. How she fought for herself even when she didn’t believe she could anymore.

Every moment I spent with her made my heart swell with pride—and it made the ache in my chest grow.

I loved her.

From the first moment I saw her—broken, fragile, yet so incredibly strong—I knew. But I pushed those feelings down, buried them beneath the layers of doubt and self-loathing. After all, who was I to be in her world?

She was a famous idol, adored by millions. Her voice, her dance moves, her energy—they were what made her who she was. She had a future that stretched out in front of her, full of promise.

And then there was me—just a failure.

A failed producer from YG, left behind when everything fell apart. Now, I was working part-time at a small restaurant. My world felt so small, so insignificant, compared to hers.

But every time she smiled at me—every time she trusted me enough to let me in—I couldn’t stop myself.

I had to be there for her. I had to.

Even if it meant putting my own dreams aside. Even if it meant making myself invisible while she soared.

I watched as she tried to pick up the pieces of her broken self, trying to rebuild what she had lost. And I saw the cracks in her, the places where she hurt. Those places she couldn’t let anyone else see.

But I saw them.

And I promised myself I would help her, no matter the cost.

I would help her achieve her dreams. I would help her heal, find her pace.

I didn’t care if I was just a background figure in her life. As long as I could be there for her, even from the shadows, I’d be content.

So, I kept showing up—late at night, quietly slipping into her dorm with hot meals and words of encouragement. I kept pushing my feelings down, burying them deep, even when the urge to tell her how I felt nearly overwhelmed me.

I wanted to be the one to help her stand again, to be the one who would support her until she could walk on her own. I wanted to make sure she didn’t feel alone anymore.

She had to believe in herself again. And if that meant staying in the background—sacrificing my own happiness for her—I would do it.

For Ahyeon…

For the girl I loved, even though I could never tell her.

It wasn’t supposed to happen, but I couldn’t help but smile.

The group—Babymonster—had decided to show up at my restaurant on their day off, and of course, I couldn’t turn them down. Not that I wanted to. They were a force of nature, impossible to ignore. When they walked through the door, laughing and chatting, it was like the entire place lit up. There was no way I could stop them, so I did the next best thing—I embraced it.

"Alright, alright, just let me get the orders in and I'll treat you to something special," I said, trying to hide the excitement bubbling up inside me.

The restaurant was smaller than what they were used to, but the atmosphere was warm and inviting, and they made themselves at home almost immediately. Rami, Ahyeon, and Chiquita wasted no time ordering their food, laughing and joking as they did. The mood was light, and for the first time in a while, everything felt... normal.

They were here to have fun. To forget about the pressures of their careers, their image, and their responsibilities for a little while. And I was happy to be the one to give them that chance.

The meal was a hit—each plate I brought to the table was met with genuine praise and gratitude. I felt proud. For once, I could provide something that made them feel good.

But the real fun began when someone—most likely Chiquita, with her playful nature—suggested karaoke.

I tried to brush it off at first, laughing nervously. "Karaoke? You know how awful I am at singing," I said.

But they didn’t care. It wasn’t about being perfect. It was about having fun. They dragged me into it anyway, and soon enough, the room was filled with the sound of their voices, each one confident and beautiful in its own way.

Ahyeon, in particular, caught my attention. As she sang, her voice growing stronger with each note, I saw something I hadn’t seen in a while—the joy of singing, of expressing herself without fear.

At first, she was a little tentative, her eyes flickering to the others as if seeking approval. But with each verse, she started to relax, her voice finding its power.

I couldn’t stop watching her.

Her voice wasn’t just beautiful—it was healing. I could see it in the way she let go of the tension in her shoulders, the way she started to believe in herself again, if only for a moment.

She was finally her again.

Ruka, who was sitting quietly next to me, noticed my gaze and giggled. “You like what you see?” she teased, nudging me playfully.

I flushed, caught off guard, but I couldn’t deny the truth. “I... I’m happy for her,” I said, my voice a little softer than I intended.

Ruka raised an eyebrow. "It’s obvious," she said with a smirk. "You’ve got it bad for her, huh?"

I shook my head quickly, not sure how to respond, but my heart knew the truth.

I was falling for Ahyeon more and more each day. Watching her sing, seeing the way she began to shine again—it was hard to ignore the way she made me feel.

But I couldn’t let her know. Not now.

For now, I was content to just watch her heal, to support her from the sidelines. That was all I could do.

And as the group continued to sing their hearts out, I smiled, knowing that for tonight, at least, they had a safe space to just be themselves. And Ahyeon—she was finally starting to believe she could be herself again.

The night had gone smoothly, all things considered. After the karaoke session, the group was in high spirits—laughing, joking, and clearly enjoying themselves more than I had expected. Their energy, infectious and carefree, made the atmosphere feel lighter than usual. But as the night wore on, the alcohol started to take its toll on them. They were all a bit tipsy, swaying with every step and laughing at even the smallest things.

I helped Ruka guide them out of the restaurant, making sure they stayed steady on their feet. First, it was Rami, then Chiquita, who was still giggling, and then Asa, who clung to me a little longer than necessary for support. One by one, I guided them to the van, making sure they were all safe and sound.

But when it was Ahyeon's turn, I couldn't help myself.

She stood there, swaying slightly, her dark hair illuminated by the glow of the streetlights. Her eyes, although hazy from the alcohol, still held that same quiet intensity. She looked so... ethereal. It was hard to look away. She was like a moon in the middle of a dark night—her beauty felt otherworldly.

I stood frozen for a moment, caught in the pull of her presence. Her lips were slightly parted as she blinked, her gaze meeting mine with that soft vulnerability I had only ever seen in private moments. For a split second, everything else faded away.

But then, Ruka's sharp voice cut through the moment.

“Y/n! What the hell are you doing?! Bring her in now before someone notices!”

I snapped back to reality, my heart racing as I realized how long I had been staring. Quickly, I stepped forward, placing a hand gently on Ahyeon’s back to guide her to the van.

She stumbled slightly but smiled up at me, her voice soft and a little slurred. “Thank you… Y/n,” she murmured, her tone warm, and for a brief second, I thought I heard a hint of something deeper.

I swallowed hard, trying to hide the way my heart fluttered at the sound of her voice.

Ruka, still standing by the van, glared at me with a mix of amusement and frustration. “You’re lucky they’re too drunk to notice,” she said, her tone teasing yet protective. “Let’s get them inside before our manager has a heart attack.”

I nodded, still a little flustered from the way Ahyeon had looked at me. The night felt surreal, like something out of a dream, but I couldn’t ignore the way she made me feel.

As I helped Ahyeon into the van, I couldn’t shake the thought of her—her presence, her warmth, her quiet beauty. I wanted to protect her, to be there for her, to make her feel like she wasn’t alone in this crazy world she lived in.

But for now, I could only help her when I could.

The text from Ahyeon came unexpectedly. Simple, yet it sent a rush of anticipation through me.

“Y/n, can you come to the dorm? I… I just want you to be here.”

There was no elaboration, no further explanation. It was unlike her to be so vague, but something in the way she worded it made my chest tighten. My fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before I quickly typed out a response.

“Of course. I’ll be there soon.”

I couldn’t deny it—I was eager. I wanted to see her. I wanted to know what was going on in her mind, what she was feeling. But there was also that hint of worry in my chest. Ahyeon had been through so much, and the fear that she might be struggling again lingered in the back of my mind. Still, I had to be there for her. She’d asked me to come, and I couldn’t turn that down.

I grabbed my jacket and made my way out of the restaurant, my mind racing with questions I couldn’t answer. What did she need? What was she thinking? Was everything okay?

The drive to the dorm felt longer than usual. With each passing minute, I could feel my heart beat faster, a mixture of excitement and nerves building up. When I finally arrived, I parked the car, took a deep breath, and walked toward the entrance.

Ruka was standing by the door when I arrived, her usual calm demeanor giving way to a slight curiosity. She gave me a small nod.

“She’s in her room. You can go up. Just… don’t ask too many questions. She’s been quiet today.”

Her words only deepened the worry I felt. I didn’t want to intrude, but I knew I had to be there for Ahyeon, even if she wasn’t saying much.

I nodded back at Ruka, though my thoughts were already with Ahyeon as I made my way up the stairs.

When I reached her room, I hesitated for a moment before knocking softly on the door. I didn’t want to disturb her if she was resting, but I was also afraid of what I might find if she wasn’t.

A soft voice called from inside. “Come in.”

I pushed the door open slowly, and there she was—sitting on her bed, looking as delicate and fragile as I’d ever seen her. Her eyes were slightly red, as if she’d been thinking deeply or maybe even crying. She was wrapped in a soft blanket, her gaze focused on the floor in front of her.

As I stepped inside, she looked up at me, her expression unreadable. But when she saw me, her lips curled into a small, fragile smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Y/n…” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

I walked over to her and sat down beside her, not sure what to say. I didn’t want to pressure her, but I also wanted to let her know I was here for her. Whatever it was, I wanted to be the one she turned to.

“Hey,” I said softly, my voice gentle. “You called me here. What’s going on? What’s on your mind?”

Ahyeon remained silent for a few moments, and just when I thought she wasn’t going to answer, she spoke again. Her voice cracked slightly, but she didn’t seem to care.

“I don’t know what to do anymore, Y/n,” she said, her eyes welling up with tears. “Everything feels so heavy. I want to be strong. I want to keep going… but sometimes, I just feel like I can’t. Like I’m drowning.”

The words hit me hard, more than I expected. Ahyeon, who had always been the star—the one who shone brightly, no matter the darkness—was struggling. And I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I couldn’t pretend she was okay when she was clearly fighting something inside.

I didn’t know what to say, but what I did know was that I couldn’t leave her like this. I couldn’t stand seeing her like this. So, I did the only thing that felt right. I reached out, placing my hand gently over hers.

“It’s okay,” I said, my voice filled with certainty. “You don’t have to do it all alone. You’re not drowning, Ahyeon. You’re not. I’m right here. And I always will be.”

She didn’t pull away. Instead, she squeezed my hand, a small but meaningful gesture. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and I could see the weight she had been carrying—everything she had been hiding from the world—finally coming to the surface.

“I don’t want to lose everything again,” she whispered, her voice full of pain.

And in that moment, I realized—Ahyeon wasn’t just struggling with the pressures of being an idol. She was still haunted by the trauma of her past. The accident. The fear. The uncertainty. It was all still so fresh in her mind, and she was fighting it every single day.

I pulled her closer, wrapping my arms around her gently. “You won’t lose anything, Ahyeon. Not as long as I’m here.”

The kiss was a whirlwind, unexpected but full of emotion. When her lips touched mine, everything else seemed to fade away. The warmth of her kiss, soft and gentle at first, quickly deepened, and I couldn’t help but respond, my heart racing. The faint lavender scent of her lipstick lingered on my lips, mingling with the tears that had escaped her eyes.

Ahyeon pulled back, her face flushed, but the sadness was still evident in her eyes. She looked at me for a moment, as if trying to gather the right words, but before she could speak, she collapsed into me, her arms wrapping tightly around my chest. Her sobs were quiet at first, but soon they grew louder, filled with the weight of everything she had been holding in.

I held her close, my hand gently stroking her hair, trying to comfort her in the only way I knew how. “Ahyeon, it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m here for you. Always.”

She cried harder, her body shaking in my arms. It broke my heart to see her like this, so vulnerable and lost, but in a way, it was a relief. I could feel her letting go of the pressure she had been carrying. I wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to carry it alone, that she didn’t have to hide her pain, but I knew she needed time to process everything.

Minutes passed, maybe even hours, as we sat there in silence. All I could do was hold her, letting her cry it out. The tears that had been locked away for so long were finally flowing freely, and I didn’t try to stop them. She needed this release. She needed to let go.

When her sobs slowed down and her breathing became more steady, she pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at me. Her eyes were red, her cheeks streaked with tears, but there was something softer in her gaze now. Something raw, yet hopeful.

“Y/n,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what I would do without you. I’ve been so afraid… afraid of everything. But with you… I feel like I can breathe again.”

I gently cupped her face in my hands, brushing away the remaining tears with my thumbs. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore, Ahyeon. I’m here for you. I’ll always be here. You’re not alone in this.”

She nodded, her lips trembling as she took a deep breath. “I know. And I want to believe that. I really do.”

I leaned in, pressing my forehead against hers. “Then believe it. You’re not alone, Ahyeon. Not anymore.”

In that moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little. We sat there in the quiet of her room, holding each other, letting the silence speak for us. The connection between us, stronger than before, had become something undeniable. And though I wasn’t sure what the future held, one thing was certain—I would be there for her, no matter what.

And for the first time in a long time, I could feel a sense of peace settle in my chest.

Ahyeon’s progress was undeniable. With each passing day, she seemed to be growing stronger, more confident in herself. The members couldn’t help but notice the change, and they were all quick to comment on it. "You two look cute together," they would tease, making both Ahyeon and I blush fiercely. Ruka, in particular, was relentless. She’d joke around, calling us a couple and teasing me until I became a nervous wreck.

But despite the teasing, I could see how much it meant to Ahyeon. Every moment we spent together, watching movies, talking late into the night, or just laughing at the simplest things, made her feel alive again. The darkness that had clouded her for so long was slowly lifting, replaced by the light of connection, support, and the growing bond we had.

It wasn’t easy, but little by little, I could see the person she once was emerging from beneath all the fear and trauma. And I couldn’t help but feel proud of her.

As their comeback grew closer, the excitement and pressure in the dorm increased. "Momentary Dream" was going to be their biggest comeback yet. With a sound that was bold and elegant, filled with gorgeous tones and powerful voices, it was destined to be a masterpiece. But for Ahyeon, this comeback was even more personal—it was her chance to prove to herself that she could do it. That she was back. Back in control. Back on her own pace.

The sound of her high notes during practice, the way her voice soared with clarity and strength, reminded me of how much she had fought to get here. She had overcome so much—her injury, the emotional scars, the doubts. But now, she was embracing her chance to shine again.

One evening, as the girls were practicing, I found myself sitting off to the side, watching them with a smile on my face. I couldn’t help but feel a surge of admiration for Ahyeon. There was something about the way she carried herself now—more confident, more sure of who she was, and the way she had learned to balance her dreams with her own pace.

She caught my gaze from across the room, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. I felt my heart flutter in response, as if the bond we shared had grown even stronger.

After practice, when the girls had scattered off to their rooms, Ahyeon came over to me. She looked at me, the same spark of determination in her eyes, but now, there was something softer there too.

"You know," she said, her voice gentle yet full of resolve, "I wouldn’t be here without You."

I could see how much she meant it. How deeply she believed in the words she was saying.

"You've helped me more than you know," she continued, her gaze never leaving mine. "You've given me the courage to face all the things I was running from. And now..." She paused, her eyes shining with emotion. "Now, I'm ready. I'm ready to show everyone who I really am. I want to be the best version of myself—for me and for all the people who’ve supported me."

I stepped closer, my heart swelling with pride and affection. "Ahyeon, you already are."

Her smile grew brighter at my words, and I could see the vulnerability in her eyes. But there was no fear anymore—just hope. And love. A love that had grown between us over time, nurtured in the quiet moments and shared experiences.

As the days leading up to the comeback flew by, I could feel the weight of everything she had been through slowly lifting. The comeback was her moment, and I knew she would make it shine brighter than ever.

And no matter what happened, I would always be by her side. Supporting her. Loving her. Watching her become the star she was always meant to be.

As the days ticked down to the comeback, the tension in the dorm was palpable, but it was a different kind of tension now. It wasn’t filled with fear or doubt anymore—it was the kind that comes before something truly amazing. The girls were working tirelessly, practicing their lines, their choreography, making sure every note was perfect. And Ahyeon, who had once been filled with anxiety and uncertainty, now stood tall. She was composed, confident. She had become someone new—a version of herself that she hadn’t recognized in so long, and it was a sight to behold.

Each time she smiled at me, as she rehearsed her parts, it was as though my heart did a little flip. The way her eyes lit up, the confidence in her voice—it all made me feel like everything she had been through was finally worth it. She had found her way back to herself, and it made me incredibly proud. In moments when she’d glance at me after hitting a particularly powerful high note or perfecting a move, there was this quiet assurance in her smile, a look that said she was ready for whatever came next.

I did my best to be there for her and the rest of the group, supporting them however I could. I’d stop by during rehearsals with warm meals, making sure they stayed nourished and energized. I helped Ruka with whatever I could, whether it was offering advice or just taking on some small tasks to ease their stress. But more than anything, I knew my role was to be their anchor—to keep things light, to remind them that it wasn’t just about the pressure of the comeback. It was about enjoying the process, staying true to themselves, and letting their passion shine.

One evening, after a long rehearsal, Ahyeon walked over to me, her expression soft but proud. "I think we're ready," she said with a gentle but excited smile. "I really feel it this time. This is going to be the one."

I nodded, my chest swelling with admiration for her. "You’ve worked so hard for this, Ahyeon. I believe in you."

She bit her lip, the familiar hint of vulnerability still there, though it was much more subdued now. "I know I’ve said this before, but… thank you. For everything. For believing in me when I didn’t even believe in myself."

I gently reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, my heart aching with emotion. "You were always worth believing in. You just needed to believe in yourself."

Her smile grew wider, and she placed her hand over mine. "I’ll keep that with me."

The next day, as they gathered for their final rehearsal before the actual performance, Ahyeon’s energy was contagious. The girls were laughing, teasing each other, yet still focused. They were all determined, but there was something else too—joy. They were enjoying each other’s company, celebrating the fact that they had come this far together.

When it came time for Ahyeon to sing her high note during the final run-through, I held my breath. Her voice rang out, clear and pure, and for a moment, it felt like the entire world held still. The power and emotion in that one note—it was more than just a performance. It was a symbol of her journey, of everything she had overcome. I could see the pride in her face as she finished, a quiet confidence radiating from her.

The girls all cheered, and for a brief moment, Ahyeon turned to look at me. Her smile was wide, almost radiant. In that moment, I realized something—this wasn’t just a comeback for her. It was the culmination of everything she had been working for, not just as an idol, but as a person. She had found her strength, her voice, and it was shining brighter than ever.

As I stood there, watching her, I couldn’t help but feel grateful. Grateful for the way she had allowed me to be part of her journey, and for the way she had let me help her find her way back to herself. I was certain that this comeback—her comeback—was going to be one of the greatest things she’d ever achieved.

And as I looked at her, standing there among her members, more confident and at peace than I had ever seen her before, I knew one thing for certain: nothing would ever stop her. Nothing would ever take away the smile on her face, the fire in her heart, or the strength in her voice. Because Ahyeon, at last, was truly herself again.

The morning of D-Day had finally arrived, a day the members of Babymonster had been waiting for. Their comeback stage was upon them, the culmination of all their hard work, sweat, and determination. The fans were eagerly anticipating the moment when they'd see the girls take the stage again, stronger and more confident than ever. But just as they were about to begin the final preparations, a tragedy struck.

Y/n, the one person who had always been there for them, the one person Ahyeon had started to rely on more than ever, was caught in a car accident. A drunk driver, reckless and careless, had slammed into his car while he was on his way home. The collision was severe, and Y/n was rushed to the hospital, unconscious and in critical condition. The news spread like wildfire, devastating the members, especially Ahyeon.

When the girls first heard the news, it was like the floor beneath them had been pulled away. The excitement they had been holding onto for their comeback was quickly replaced with fear and worry. The reality of the situation hit them like a ton of bricks.

Ahyeon, in particular, was overwhelmed. She stood there, staring blankly at her phone screen as the news flashed before her eyes, her body shaking. Her breath became shallow, uncontrollable, and her chest tightened with the weight of the news. The panic took hold of her as she gasped for air, unable to catch her breath.

Ruka, who had been preparing for the stage with the others, immediately rushed to her side. The others followed, surrounding Ahyeon, but she couldn’t stop shaking. The thought of Y/n lying in a hospital bed, possibly fighting for his life, consumed her.

"Ahyeon, please breathe," Ruka said gently, her voice cracking with concern. "You need to calm down. For him."

But Ahyeon could barely hear her through the pounding in her head. "He... he’s not okay... Y/n… he… he can’t be... please, no..." she stammered, her voice breaking.

The other members gathered around her, their arms enveloping her in a tight hug. They each whispered words of comfort, trying to keep her grounded. Chiquita held Ahyeon’s hand tightly. "We need to focus, Ahyeon. We have to be strong now. Y/n would want us to be strong. Asa placed her hand on Ahyeon’s back, her voice soothing but firm. "We can’t change what happened. But we can make sure we do this right. For him."

Rami, usually the quieter one, spoke up as well, her voice filled with determination. "We’re in this together. Y/n would want us to do this for him. To push through, no matter what."

But it was Ruka who spoke the words that seemed to cut through the panic. "Show must go on, Ahyeon. For him. For you. For us. He’s fighting for you right now. And you need to fight too."

At those words, Ahyeon’s body stilled. The frantic shaking began to slow, and she took a deep breath, though the weight of the situation still hung heavily in her chest. She thought of Y/n, of everything he had done for her, and how he had been there for her when she was at her lowest. She couldn’t just crumble now. Not when he needed her to be strong.

The members kept their arms around her, silently offering their support as Ahyeon slowly calmed down. The panic didn’t completely go away, but it subsided enough for her to steady herself.

"Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I’ll do it. For him. For Y/n."

The words were barely above a whisper, but they were enough. Enough to push her forward, to remind her of the strength she had found within herself. Ahyeon wiped away her tears, looking at each of the members who had been her strength through the turmoil. She nodded to herself, the determination slowly returning to her eyes.

The show would go on. It had to. She owed it to Y/n. And she owed it to herself, to them, to all of the fans who were waiting.

The members gave Ahyeon one last hug, and with a final, encouraging look, they left the room to prepare for the stage. Ahyeon followed them, her heart still heavy, but now, there was a quiet strength in her steps. They would make it through this. For Y/n. For themselves. They had come too far to let anything stop them now.

As they took their places on stage, the lights blinding, the cameras rolling, Ahyeon kept Y/n in her heart. She knew he was fighting, and she would fight for him too. She would give her all, just like she always had, but now with a fire that burned deeper.

Because no matter what happened, she wasn’t giving up. Not now. Not ever.

"Memories of You" – Title Track for MOMENTARY DREAM (Intro) [Soft instrumental, building tension] Ahyeon: In the silence, I was lost, A broken soul, a shattered cost, But you reached out, you found me, You fixed the pieces no one could see. (Verse 1) Ahyeon: I was broken like porcelain, Cracked and bruised, I couldn’t win, But you held me, made me whole again, You gave me strength I thought had been forgotten. (Pre-Chorus) Rora: Through the darkness, I couldn’t see, But you were there, standing next to me, You pulled me out from the wreckage I’d become, Now I'm alive, I'm no longer numb. (Chorus) All: Memories of you, a light in the storm, Through all the pain, you kept me warm, From shattered glass to a brand new start, You fixed me up, you healed my heart. Memories of you, forever we'll stay, No more shadows, no more decay, With you by my side, I'm not afraid, I'm whole again, the pieces you saved. (Ruka's & Asa’s Rap) Ruka: We were trapped in a labyrinth, no way out, People doubted us, filled us with doubt, But you came, showed us the light, Guided us through the endless night. Asa: You were the exit we needed to find, With you, we left the darkness behind, Now we stand, no longer lost, We owe you our strength, we paid the cost. (Verse 2) Rami: I was drowning in my own fears, But you wiped away all of my tears, With every step, you pulled me near, You made me feel like I could breathe again. Chiquita: You were the spark, I was the flame, You didn’t let me drown in shame, You held me close, you made me believe, That I could fly, that I could achieve. (Bridge) Pharita (Softly, growing stronger): In the dark, I couldn’t find my way, I couldn’t trust, I couldn’t stay, But your love, your warmth, it broke the chains, You fixed me when I thought I’d never be whole again. (Chorus) All: Memories of you, a light in the storm, Through all the pain, you kept me warm, From shattered glass to a brand new start, You fixed me up, you healed my heart. Memories of you, forever we'll stay, No more shadows, no more decay, With you by my side, I'm not afraid, I'm whole again, the pieces you saved. (Final High Note) Ahyeon (With soaring vocals): Now I stand, stronger than before, With the love you gave, I soar, The memories of you, the ones I cherish, You helped me bloom, when I thought I'd perish. (Outro) Ahyeon: Thank you for all that you’ve done, For being my light, for helping me run, You healed my broken heart, now it beats again, And with every note, I’ll sing your name, my friend.

Live Performance:

The music fades out as the stage lights shine brightly, the members standing together. Ahyeon steps forward, her breath heavy with emotion. The crowd is roaring, anticipating the end of the performance.

Ahyeon wipes a tear from her cheek, looking down for a moment before speaking to the microphone.

"I want to thank someone who's not here with us today. Y/n... you were always there when we had nothing. You helped us, gave us hope when the world didn't. You fixed me when I was broken... you made me whole. I... I love you. Always."

The crowd falls silent, confused at first, not sure who she is referring to. They look at each other, whispering. Ahyeon, sensing their confusion, continue.

"You see, Y/n was the one who cared for us when no one did. He was there for me when I was lost. When I couldn’t even recognize myself. He helped me find my pace, helped me believe in myself again. Without him, I wouldn’t be standing here today. He showed me what it means to love and be loved, even when I didn’t deserve it. I want him to be proud of me... of us... because we made it here together. And I’m smiling because of him."

As she finishes, tears well up in her eyes, and the rest of the members stand by her, supportive and proud.

The fans, though still unsure of the full story, can see the raw emotion in Ahyeon's eyes. They cheer, applauding the vulnerable moment, knowing it came from the deepest part of her heart. The music fades completely, and the lights go down, but Ahyeon stands there, looking out over the crowd, her heart finally at peace.

The song was more than just a performance—it was a message. A tribute to Y/n, and to the man who gave her a chance when no one else would. A chance to be herself. A chance to smile again.

"Memories of You" would forever be the song that marked the moment Ahyeon found herself—because of him.

Y/n's body lay still in the sterile, cold hospital room. The beeping of machines was the only sound breaking the suffocating silence. His face, once full of life, now looked pale and fragile, a stark contrast to the vibrant person he had been just days ago. Tubes filled his mouth, helping him breathe. His head was bandaged, wrapped tightly to cover the deep wound from the crash, a constant reminder of the violent impact that had left him in this state. His body seemed to be fighting for life, but no one could predict how long it would take—or if he would ever wake up at all.

The doctors had said he was in a comatose state, the trauma to his head severe enough to leave him unconscious, unsure of when or if he'd recover. There was no telling how long it would take for him to regain consciousness, if at all. Every second felt like an eternity, with no guarantee of the future.

Ahyeon had barely been able to process the news when the call came in. Her world had come crashing down as she rushed to the hospital with the other members, her thoughts swirling in a panic she couldn't control. She had to see him. She had to be with him. The thought of losing him—of not being able to thank him, to hold him, to let him know how much he meant to her—was unbearable.

As the girls entered the room, Ahyeon’s gaze immediately locked onto Y/n, lying there, unconscious. Her heart shattered in that instant, the weight of everything overwhelming her. She couldn’t breathe. Her knees gave way, and she dropped to the floor beside him, her hands trembling as she reached for him. The tears fell without warning, hot and fast, soaking her face as she whispered his name through broken sobs.

"Y/n... Please... Please come back to me."

The members stood behind her, their faces just as devastated. Ruka, Asa, Rami, and Chiquita could only watch helplessly as Ahyeon collapsed, her hands gripping the edge of Y/n's hospital bed, as though holding onto him might bring him back. They had always relied on him, had always felt his support, but now it felt like they were powerless, unable to do anything but watch and wait.

Ruka stepped forward first, her own tears streaming down her face as she knelt beside Ahyeon. She wrapped her arms around Ahyeon, pulling her into a comforting embrace, her own sorrow mirrored in every movement.

"Ahyeon, please, stay strong. Y/n would want you to. He’ll fight through this," Ruka said, her voice breaking as she spoke.

Asa joined in, crouching down and placing a hand on Ahyeon's shoulder. "He's going to be okay, Ahyeon. We just have to believe. He’s always been there for us. We need to be here for him now."

But Ahyeon, her face buried in her hands, couldn't stop the overwhelming flood of emotions. "I... I don’t know if I can do this without him," she choked out. "He’s everything... He fixed me when I was broken. He saved me, and now... now he’s lying here like this..."

Her sobs echoed in the room, and one by one, the members knelt beside her. They surrounded her with their warmth, their silent support, knowing there were no words to comfort the depths of her pain. All they could do was be there for her, just as Y/n had always been there for them.

The room was filled with their cries—soft whispers of hope, of desperation. No one could bear to leave him alone. Not when he had given them everything. Not when he had been their light, their strength. Now, in this moment of darkness, they needed to be his.

Ruka held Ahyeon tighter, feeling her heart shatter alongside her. "We’re here, Ahyeon. We’re here. We’ll wait with you. We’ll wait for him to come back."

As Ahyeon continued to sob, her heart aching in a way she had never known before, she thought of the last words she had spoken to Y/n. How she had thanked him, how she had told him she loved him. She only wished he could hear it now, that he could wake up and know that everything she had said had come from the deepest part of her soul. That he had healed her broken heart, given her hope when all she had known was despair.

But now, all she could do was wait.

"Please, Y/n," she whispered through her tears. "Come back to me. Please don't leave me."

And in that moment, despite the pain, despite the uncertainty, she felt a small flicker of hope. She knew that Y/n had always been a fighter. And if anyone could come back from this... it was him.

[or3oartz]

hey so why are people suddenly feeling bad forJax?? Have we just forgotten the past few episodes??

"he didn't deserve it" YES HE DID!

Have whatever opinion you want, but Jax has been nothing but a TERRIBLE person and needed to be humbled SO bad. Don't get me wrong, I love him- he's my third favourite tied with gangle. But he's a terrible person. How did we go from hating him after episode 2, to now suddenly thinking he didn't deserve his treatment? 😭 mind you, he's been torturing the others for years! He had it coming.

Also the new Gangle and Ragatha hate also confuses me? Let me start with Ragatha.

From what I'm aware of, the hate is from what she said to Gangle. And I get that it wasn't nice, but as soon as she says it, she does point it out herself.

Just a reminder she's literally high out of her mind with no filter. There's no thoughts in that head, because they're all coming out. that's her thought in the moment, and people think unpleasant things all the time. We're just usually able to control what we say.

Ragatha like this also makes her feel more human- she has faults just like all of us do. She's not a completely good person all the time, but who is? People love Jax for being an asshole(me included) , so why hate on Ragatha? This also applies to the Gangle hate.

People tend to hate gangle in this episode because of how she acts, but personally I love seeing her being more than sad and pathetic all the time. She's doing a job that she has experience with. Yes, she gets a little carried away sometimes, but she's also a struggling person that's already not taken seriously by her fellow circus members.

By the end of the episode she seems like she's about to lose it if it weren't for Pomni being there to take the rest of the adventure for her (take the closing shift, which I really liked.) Hell, even then it's hard to tell if she did or didn't purposely fall into traffic. and she still took the responsibility for her actions at the end in the office with Caine.

You can disagree with me if you want, I don't really care. But I feel like people are so desperate to put characters into a black and white boxes of "good" and "bad". People aren't even like that, it's really hard to be an OBJECTIVELY good or bad person, because imo, that's subjective. one person's good is another's bad, and there's also some things that aren't good nor bad.

Sorry this post is so long, I'm just very passionate about this show and the concept of a good and bad person. But honestly, good on gooseworx because you know you're doing something right when you can evoke such strong feelings from people people. Props to her 👏

[thisisntablogspost]

Say You’re Mine - Miniseries

Noah Sebastian x Reader

PART TWO PART THREE

Warning: MDNI! This miniseries contains triggers that may cause a negative effect to the consumer. This includes cheating, forced proximity, toxic dom/sub dynamics, unhealthy relationships, alcohol, coercion, manipulation, unprotected piv (don’t do this). The reader is consenting and allows these things to happen to them.

Authors note: If this isn’t something you don’t want to read please avoid and I’ll catch you on the next one! If I missed any other triggers please, please, please dm me so I can add them. I want you all to be safe when reading my fanfics. Your mental health matters. 🖤

Part One is commencing…are you ready?

You were invited to the Halloween party at the guys house. You didn’t want to go, but Jolly insisted Noah wouldn’t be there. Umm…that’s a lie. He’s right there, talking to a few people you didn’t recognize.

“Ah, fuck” You whisper to yourself, covering your face as if he wouldn’t instantly know who you are. Noah catches a glance of you across the room. Instantly recognizing you. His lips curving into a smirk. He takes you in, his eyes taking over the angel costume that you chose to wear. The wings, the dress that accentuated your body, and the headband with the halo above it. He turned his body towards you, disengaging from his previous conversation. You feel your mouth go dry, how could you not notice his choice of costume. He has the balaclava on, his black trench coat, dark shirt, jeans, and his boots.

You needed to get out of his sight. You dart across the room with quick hellos and goodbyes as your friends walked up to you. You conversed for a few moments then excused yourself. You make your way to the sliding glass door to go out into the back yard. You close it behind you, silence. You let out a breath and tried to calm yourself. You walk over to the patio couches and sit down. You run a hand down your face, taking a deep breath to collect yourself. You groan as your mind wanders, the thoughts that are now only Noah. You lean back on the couch, watching the lights, and listening to the conversations of everyone inside the house.

You run a hand through your hair and check your phone. Ugh, no texts or calls from Ryan. Your boyfriend. He decided last minute to go on a trip without you. Whatever. You roll your eyes, setting your phone down beside you.

“Nice dress”

You freeze. You were so lost in thought you didn’t hear the footsteps come up behind you. Noah. You feel his hands on either side of you on the back of the couch. He’s so close. You let out a whimper. You can smell the faint scent of his cologne.

“Miss me?” He whispers, his voice low and gruff against your neck. You couldn’t speak, your body temperature is rising. You swallow when you hear him snicker behind you.

“I missed you” he said, he was teasing. He always enjoyed teasing you, just to rile you up. A fun little game he so loved to play. Your breathing starts to pick up as he leans closer.

“Look at you trembling beneath me just by my voice did you miss me that badly?” His voice low in your ear, it felt like silk against your skin. You flinch at his words. You’re so weak for him. You try to speak, but only whimpers leave your lips.

“You’re doing terrible at hiding that. I can see you need me. My voice alone has you panting.” He whispers into your ear, his hands coming to your shoulders, rubbing up and down softly. You feel your body tense at his touch. He has you on a silver platter just for him. He slowly turns your neck to the side, allowing himself to see your face. You were a mess already and he loved it. You know he loves seeing this side of you, you being weak to his touch.

“Look at you. So weak for me, you need me” you can only mumble. He chuckles darkly, loving the pathetic little sounds you make.

“I know you need me. I can tell by the way you’re reacting to me. You’re begging to be touch.”

“Please, no. Noah, I have a boyfriend.”

“Please, no? Yet, you’re shaking on this couch. You want me just as much as I want you. You just can’t admit it”

His touch became slightly rougher. A soft rub then he grips your arms, knowing your body was in agony wanting him close to you.

“Does your boyfriend know how weak you are for me?” His words were low, teasing you, knowing your boyfriend had no idea how much control he had over you. It was a toxic cycle that you chose to get out of, but here you are once again under his thumb.

“N-no…sir-Noah I…I..” You didn’t mean to let that slip out. Noah’s hands trail up your arms, through your hair, grabbing a handful and tugs it so you look up at him.

“No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t know how much control I have on your body…does he?”

He smirks. You called him sir, you know that’s what he wanted. The title he made you use when you were together.

“N-No” you wince as he tugs your hair firmly.

“Good, I miss you like this.” You whimper softly. He’s so close, so warm. His touch leaving tingles along your body. He lets go of you, he walks around the couch. He towers over you, his eyes locked on yours. He sits down, lifts you up, and pulls you against his chest. You feel his arousal growing. He moves your hair to the other side of your neck. He places soft kisses along your sensitive skin.

“I missed how soft your skin is, your sounds, you need me. Your body is begging…” he moves his hand down, wrapping an arm around your waist. This was his favorite, having you on his lap, in his control.

“Please..Noah..I”

“You can’t help how your body reacts. You need it, don’t you?” His voice low, against your neck. The slow, torturous kisses and nibbles are driving you insane. You try to get up and away from him. His arm pulling you back, wrapping around your stomach again. Your body reacts with small trembles and shivers.

“Please, Noah..” Another plea, yet you don’t get try to get off his lap.

“Please? You want me to stop or you want me to keep going?” He teases, he knew you didn’t want him to stop. You hate to admit it, but that’s the last thing you wanted, and he could feel it. You missed this just as much as he did.

“It’s not fair to him” you sigh, the guilt in your heart growing with each passing minute.

“What he doesn't know can’t hurt him…” He whispers in your ear. He wasn’t going to give you an out. Your body already giving into him. He could still get what he wanted easily, like it was second nature, and you hate yourself for it. You want to try, you love Ryan. You don’t want to ruin your relationship because of Noah.

“I..I can’t”

“You can’t? What can’t you do?” He asks as he moves his head to your neck, the tips of his fingers dancing along your waist and thighs. You whine, feeling your body reacting to his touch. The thoughts of your body slowly slip from your mind as Noah runs his hands up your body, over your breasts, squeezing and massaging them. He continues to kiss along your neck. You didn’t even notice that he pulled your dress down letting your breasts free. You moan, feeling him gently tug at your nipples as he bites your neck. You gasp, your head falling against his chest.

“Mmm”

“Use your words. Be my good girl…” His words are low, teasing against your ear as his hands make their way along her body. The sensations were overwhelming, you felt like a live wire with each tug and caress.

“Don’t call me that..”

“You want me to stop, yet your body begs for me. You know that you need this. My hands all over your body, making you feel so good.” He whispers, his hand slowly slides up and gently wraps around your neck, just holding it. He’s barely putting any pressure, but enough to make you breathe heavier.

“Ahhh…nnnn…Noah” The begging is starting, the wanting. The feeling of his hand wrapping around your delicate throat makes your core ache for him.

“I missed this…your whimpers…your needy responses”He whispers, slowly tightening his grip, enough to make your breath hitch. He loved seeing how it affects you.

“Mmph”

“I especially missed having you completely at my mercy…” He whispers again, tightening his grip a bit around your throat, loving how your body tensed up at his words. Your hands grab his wrist, his grip tightens.

“You know you need me to please you, to take care of you. Look at how badly you’ve missed my touch.” His hold doesn’t loosen as he speaks. He knew you wanted him. His words, his touch, his control over your body.

“You’re so weak for me….say it…” He whispers. He could hear your breathing quicken and the small whimpers of your begging against his grip. It drove him wild as you were on the edge of needing him.

“I…hate how..weak I am..for you”

“Your body is telling me differently, you need me. I know how bad you’ve missed my hands on you. My voice in your ear, my breath against your skin, you can’t get enough of me, can you?” His voice was low in your ear, he’d let go of your neck, moving his hands slowly down your waist, rubbing slowly, barely touching you.

“What is my body telling you? How am I responding to you?” You are fighting this, fighting against Noah. He is like a forbidden wine you were so desperate to taste once again.

“Your body is giving me your answer…your response is telling me it’s been needy, starved, begging for me to take care of you…it’s so obvious.” His hands gently caress your waist, barely touching you. He knows how much a soft gentle touch can drive you crazy with need.

“D-don’t do that..”

“What? This?” He chuckles, slowly moving his hands to your hips, rubbing slow, gentle circles in the way he knows it gets you going.

“That’s not fair Noah…” your head falls against his chest, he holds you against him. His hands move along down to her thighs, his fingers playing with the hem of her dress.

“You know you like it. You can’t help how your body reacts. You need it, you’ve missed this. You’ve missed me” He purs, slowly moving his hands along her inner thigh, just teasing, knowing it’ll get a reaction from you.

“You don’t know what I need..” You knew better not to challenge him. You needed to not let this happen and it was so getting to the point where you’d be getting on your knees for him.

“I don’t? You clearly need someone to take control of you…make you submit. Make your body react…you’re not over me and you know it.” He whispers in your ear.

“How…how do you know what I’ve been deprived of hmm? He could be doing a better job” You swallow, can’t even finish the sentence without hesitation.

“Than..than..” He laughs darkly at your pathetic attempt.

“Because I know you. I know your body better than yourself, you need me to make you feel good. I know what you want and need better than your own boyfriend does” He squeezes along your inner thigh, knowing how the sensations are stirring up the want and desire within you.

“Don’t..don’t do that” You watch his hands working higher up, just below the hem of your dress.

“Why not? You’re getting so needy for it…I know it feels good” His voice is low, knowing you’ll squirm if he does it again.

“I..”

“You need it. I know you don’t want me to stop. You need me to give you what you want…, to make you submit. You want to be good for me, don’t you?” His nails lightly scratch along your thighs.

“Don’t say that…please” you whine, his hands hike up your dress. You watch as his fingers trail over your underwear. A whimper escapes your lips, he slowly runs circles over your clit. The fabric adding more friction than you want, and it feels so good.

“You can’t help that you’re weak for me…such a needy girl under my hands. Tell me you want to be good. I know how badly you do” He purrs into your ear. He knows exactly how to make you fall apart. His slow circles become more precise, more deliberate. Your hips buck against his hand. He pulls your underwear to the side. You’re absolutely soaked, there’s no hiding it.

“How badly do you want me to finger this cunt?” You can only stutter before he smacks your pussy.

“Tell me or I’ll leave you a fucking mess on this couch.” Another smack, you cry out, grabbing onto his arm. His hand around your throat, holding you in place. His lips right next to your ear.

“Please..please, finger my pussy. Please make me cum.” A growl emits from his chest. His hand finds your entrance, collecting your arousal and smearing over your clit. You writhe at the feeling of his fingers. He lets go of your throat, taking your leg and spreading your legs wider for him. He takes two fingers, inserting them into you. You cry out at the feeling of him working you to a steady pace, his fingers moving in the “come here” motion. You close your eyes for a moment, thinking back to the many times he had you like this. How he made you crumble and fall apart. His fingers, his mouth, his tongue. You whine thinking about it, Noah feels you clench around his fingers.

“You close? Already?” He picks up the pace, holding your leg against your chest. You’re so close you can barely keep it together.

“Yes, I’m close. Fuck..fuck…fuck!”

“You gonna cum, baby? You want me to make you cum, huh? Feels so good.” He cooed in your ear, it’s sending you over the edge. You feel the warmth spreading throughout your body.

“Yes, yes, yes! Gonna..gonna…cum”

“I love how much of a needy mess you are for me…how your body aches for me…” He pulls away, not giving you what you wanted. You were his, and you knew it.

“What…I..I’m..” You get off of him, fixing your dress, then you sit on the couch. You look over at him as he stands up and turns to look down at you with a shit eating grin on his face.

He…denied you. You look up at him growing frustrated and angry. He just got you worked up for nothing, because he knows how weak and pathetic you are for him. You can only stare at him as he stands there so prideful towering over you. There’s more to this…oh fuck…this is just the beginning. You know Noah well enough to know that he’s going to make you crawl back to him.

“For how long do I have to endure you doing this to me?”

“As long as I want…I have you right where I want you…desperate and needy. I’ve missed this…having you underneath my thumb…all mine to tease and torment”

He smirks darkly and pulls your chin up to look at him. He loves how worked up you got for him…what he loved more was that you were now frustrated…and he knew it’d take no time before you melted underneath his touch again.

“You’re evil…you’re a fucking asshole!”

“No doubt there…but you like it”

He chuckles. You could get as angry and frustrated as you’d like…you know the effect he has on your body…and he still knows he’ll be the only one to cause such a response…he’s enjoying this more than he wants to admit…he loves that you’re still at the palm of his hand.

(to be continued)

[lvrgirlrey]

BSD HCS *̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

⋆꙳•̩̩͙ ❅ *̩̩͙‧͙ ⛇⋆☃︎ ‧͙ *̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: how i think BSD characters would be in a relationship!

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤: akutgawa ryuunosuke, osamu dazai, atsushi nakajima

𝔸/ℕ: this is my first actual tumblr post so this might not be my best work :v it was fun making this but it was kinda hard to do it cuz im not really the type of person to make headcanons ;p kudos to the people who can make a bunch of posts in one day! it took me a while just to make this one :,)

ℂ𝕎: this does include NSFW HCS but nothing too crazy! minors proceed with caution!

𝕒𝕜𝕦𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕨𝕒 𝕣𝕪𝕦𝕦𝕟𝕠𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕖

𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* you were definitely obvious with your hints toward him but started to catch on that you though of him as more than friends

* was so confused when you confessed

* “where did that come from?”

* managed to keep a straight face

* he didn’t want others to know that the two of you were together for at least a month or two

* he is NOT a fan of PDA. no matter the circumstances, he hates PDA always

* would buy you the occasional present like flowers and candy (asked gin for help)

* definitely not the most romantic person; hugs and kisses would feel very foreign to him. he would be okay with just your presence with him

* would never outright ask for something, you would basically have to figure it out on your own

* you’d have to be VERY patient, he’s definitely inexperienced in relationships

* his way of showing affection would be acts of service. buying you tea/coffee, doing chores for you, tending to your injuries after a difficult mission, etc

ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* a switch. mostly dominant but will not resist when you top him

* not the highest stamina but will absolutely try his hardest for 3+ rounds (can’t blame him for his lung problems)

* is definitely a thigh guy. you’re wearing a short skirt and thigh highs? expect getting absolutely railed later

* he’s an in between a rough/fast paced quickie and slow/sensual love making kinda guy

* very quiet, almost silent. at most does some very heavy breathing while he’s close

* doesn’t have the biggest sex drive but is an absolute nasty dog if he’s been having a stressful day at work

* loves doggy style

* won’t finish until you’ve finished at least once

* willing to give oral but would need a lot of convincing

* not kinky but is still willing to try (probably won’t enjoy it much)

* for aftercare, he would run you both a hot shower to clean you off and cuddle in bed afterwards

𝕠𝕤𝕒𝕞𝕦 𝕕𝕒𝕫𝕒𝕚

𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* knew you liked him from basically the beginning

* he gave off every instance where you were so obviously hinting at something

* everyone in the world would know when you guys started dating because he would NOT keep his mouth shut

* “why would i hide the woman i love from the world?”

* the master of PDA

* his hands are all over you 24/7

* physical touch is his love language

* constant flow of gifts, your desk is always overly crowded by them

* talks everyone’s ears off about you

* absolutely worships the ground you walk on

* loves scaring you half to death constantly

ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* dominant switch. is ALWAYS in controlled

* the freakiest man alive. kinks, toys, you name it and he’s into it

* an absolute tease. loves laughing on how you look pathetic under him and denies your orgasm so much you nearly pass out

* can go on for round after round after round, 2-3 times a day, 4-5 times a week (this man is an absolute beast)

* a tit man. loves missionary just to see them bouncing for him. just seeing them would make him finish

* loves quickies. before, during, and after missions.

* KNOWS he’s loud. wants you to know how good you make him feel

* spanks. a lot. you can’t sit comfortably after having sex with him

* does NOT play when it comes down to giving oral. is absolutely making you see stars from the moment he starts

* absolutely a “rough and fast” man. constantly hitting the sweet spot every time and will laugh when you ask him to slow down

* aftercare kinda sucks with him.. at most would cuddle after but that’s basically it

𝕒𝕥𝕤𝕦𝕤𝕙𝕚 𝕟𝕒𝕜𝕒𝕛𝕚𝕞𝕒

𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* ABSOLUTELY clueless. did not know you liked him until you told him to his face

* “oh. OH. IS THAT WHY YOU ___?”

* would be a little closed off and reserved at first but slowly open up to you

* not the biggest fan of PDA but would occasionally give you a quick peck if you really wanted it

* gets you gifts but sometimes they’re not the best (he tried that’s all that matters)

* definitely a quality time kinda guy; going out for a walk/dates are his go-to

* the biggest snuggle bug ever; he’s always cuddled up to you in private. in public he’s just always super close to you to the point that he sometimes get in the way

* always rushing to your aid

* dazai teases him because “he looks like a lost puppy, constantly following you around”

* gets you “just because” flowers

* loves head pats

ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* the most switch of all switches. will dom in the middle of you taking charge

* AN ASS GUY. loves doggy style and reverse cowgirl just to see your ass bouncing off his dick

* unaware of how loud he is. will get looks from the other ADA members because of his volume

* tries out different kinds of kinks every time to make sure he finds one that you both enjoy

* wouldn’t enjoy anything that involved hurting you (slaps, spanks, whips, etc)

* on the contrary, LOVES getting his hair pulled. practically begs for you to pull it every time

* is very sensual when it’s dedicated sex time but for a quickie? might as well become the weretiger because of how feral he gets

* an average sex drive. mostly 2-3 times a week

* aftercare is just getting food after he pounded you

⋆⋅•⋅⊰∙∘⋆ ❆ ⋆∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋆

again, this is my first actual post so please don’t mind any mistakes/errors! thank you for reading :,D



[adviceformefromme]

💖TRUSTING YOUR INNER VOICE - 3 MONTHS UNTIL 2025 - GLOW UP SERIES [WEEK 12] - 💖

Your life can drastically change in three months, and this is coming from someone who started last October unexpectedly in hospital everyday for three weeks, to then leave London and move back home and share a ROOM with my mom due to space issues and by the end of the whirlwind I finally got to move into my dream ocean view apartment in Europe. ALL WITHIN 3 MONTHS. How did I transform my life? What remained consistent was my inner voice, leading me towards faith and not fear. Being able to hear God’s direction and having the courage to take a leap into the unknown at each twist and turn. So no matter where you start this October, trust and know that miracles are possible, and if you stay true to where you are being guided you will end up exactly where you need to be. 

UNDERSTANDING WHAT VOICE IS GUIDING YOU…

Are you leaning into fear or into faith? Each day, are you sticking to what you know or are you taking risks? Are you using your voice to speak up when you’re usually quiet? Are you still remaining true to your vision despite not seeing the results in the 3D? Are you trying to control situations feeling anxious and stuck, or are you remaining trusting and faithful to the visions God has placed in your heart? If you find fear is guiding your life, your TRANSFORMATION is going to a struggle, there is going to be friction, and this is where you need to get out of your own way. God wants to move you somewhere you’ve never been, you’ve been doing your vision boards, affirmations, praying, reading, trying your very best to LEVEL-TF-UP, and STILL feeling stuck…and this is because your inner voice is holding you hostage to what you’ve known, to the old version of you, the expired version. These next 12 weeks are for tuning into a different frequency, to locking into God’s direction and here are the steps…

1] You need to meditate to create space in your mind to hear the voice that wants to lead you to your highest potential. It’s always there waiting for you to listen, in order to HEAR you need SPACE.. and to get space you need to meditate. The aim is 20 mins per day, if you’re already comfortable with this aim for 1 hour. I know this might sound like a scary amount of time to sit in silence but think how easily you can spend 20 mins on social media doom scrolling…Do you want to GLOW-UP or do you want to stay stuck? This is what you need to ask yourself daily…But please walk before you run, here is 10 mins meditation that is simple and transformative and will 100% allow you mental space so you can slowly throughout the day start to hear your inner voice - God speaking to you. 

2] Tune out of negativity (the news, low vibration music, gossip, scrolling through peoples highlight reel) and tune into high vibes… Listening to high vibes is going to move you energetically into a new space. There will be more peace and positivity. The high vibes include, morning motivation on YouTube find one that empowers you, cleansing your social media accounts of anything negative or deleting it full stop while you’re on your glow up journey. Listening to binaural beats, gospel, or anything that has empowering lyrics that lift you up. 

3] Once you have removed the low vibes you also want SILENT vibes, this means going for a walk without your phone. Waking up and not checking your phone for 1 hour, having as many moments of silence as possible, and this is when you will start to hear. You might hear negativity in your mind at first, it might be overbearing, the voice might be telling you how stupid you are, how pathetic you are, but PERSEVERE. Get curious on why you have this negativity in your mind, journal on what was coming up for you, you want to clear out the negativity so you can hear the inner wisdom that is waiting to flow in. 

4] PRAY FOR GUIDANCE. If you don’t have the direction, you are wanting to transform your life and don’t know what the next steps are, I promise you the moment you start praying and asking is the moment you receive the answers. It will come in the form of conversations, YouTube content creators will appear in your feed, you will have thoughts, dreams, a book will fall of a shelf, there will be direction from above. God wants to help you, you just have to ask and listen clearly for the answers. They will appear.

A little story time of my 3 month transformation from last October - December and how I completely transformed my life in that time…

Until next week, stay in your faith, your journal and remain hopeful that this time things are going to be different. Your transformation is in progress.

[obey-me-disaster]

Hey there! How’s it going? If I may, can I request some headcaons on the obey me brothers trying to seduce MC? Please and thank you!

These guys have to literally take a 'seductive speechcraft' class at RAD, in theory they should be good at seducing, in practice not so much

Warning: slightly NSFW

Obey me brothers trying to seduce MC

Lucifer

He keeps it simple. He doesn't see the point of doing complicated mind games when he knows that MC will choose him. That's not to say he won't try to win MC over or make them feel special.

Between Lucifer encouraging MC to be bolder when it comes to their advances and his confidence there isn't anything that could go wrong, in his mind at least.

He is often assertive in a way that would make MC feel like being swooped off their feet while still leaving room for them to refuse. He will make sure they know he will take care of all of their desires.

He often invites them over, either to his study room or the music room to spend some time alone together where he can be more forward.

Mammon

Mammon is really smooth when it comes to flirting and seducing, just not when it comes to MC.

He is too caught up between being a tsundure and just being genuinely worried about making them uncomfortable by being too forward. Still, after a while he will get over some of his worries, he is MC's first man after all!

He is one of the most sought after models in the entire Devildom, he knows how to use his looks in his favour and how to get people's attention, especially MC's.

With how much time he spends with them, Mammon knows how to make MC feel like they are the only person that matters to him and to make them think about only him.

That also includes what words to say and in what way too touch them. Still, he always leaves it up to MC to decide if they want to take it further. He will let them take control so they could go at their own pace.

Leviathan

Tries to think of it like MC is a love interest in a video game, otherwise he would never be able to do it.

Tries to kabedon MC and it works at first, until he realizes how close the two of them are and panics.

Depending on the MC, his cringefail personality and being borderline pathetic and endearing at the same time would probably do the trick and seduce them imeanitworkedonme

Still, he has his moments where he can be more dominant! Especially if it would be in a virtual world, where he is more in his element. Sure, he would still be nervous but he would actually manage to flirt with MC.

To add to the previous point, he actually did that in a devilgram, where he lowered one of the sits in the car and told MC he could be in charge too.

Also I am sure he has at least 3 slutty cosplays. All he needs is a little bit of courage and he could use them.

Satan

A really by the book approach, the type of thing you would see in books. He has a lot of connections but most of them were not made by seducing other demons.

His attempts would be a bit awkward at first, feeling a little bit too stiff, but after observing to what MC responds the best he will start to get better at it.

Does MC respond better to words? Well he doesn't have high grades in seductive speechcraft for nothing. He knows how to get MC wrapped around his finger. Starting from innocent remarks to comments that would leave MC's imagination run wild.

Do they like physical touches more? He may be a little bit more awkward but nothing that MC would notice.

He is probably experimenting with new feelings too, cause seducing MC, someone he actually fell for, is way more different than his normal seductive speechcraft.

Asmodeus

Literally the best, that's his whole thing. Sure he has his eyes to help him, but he has been a lust demon for a long time, he knows how to seduce someone without magic. And like Mammon, he knows how to use his body to get other people's attention towards him and his body.

Has the best combination of lingering touches that just leave you wanting for more and of words the can be left up for interpretation, really making MC think that they want Asmo even without all the seduction.

He knows just from looking at MC's slightest change of reactions when to stop or when to push forward. He knows how far he can go with exploring their body without ruining the sexual tension. He would get them so riled up that MC would be the one initiating anything. In his mind he is just giving them a little push.

He also loves to tease them throughout the day only to disappear, leaving them wanting for more. He doesn't need to even see to know that he is all they can think about.

Beelzebub

I will be sincere, I don't think he really knows how to seduce people in the traditional sense. He would probably seduce MC by accident.

He would just call them in order to record his workout routine and when MC would get there he would be shirtless and sweaty, and they would have to sit behind a camera filming a shirtless Beel literally flexing his muscle

He would also lick food right off MC if they happened to drop some on themself. He literally licked wiped cream off MC's fingers in season 2.

He does all of these things by accident, and while he may be oblivious and not the best at seducing he isn't dumb. He will see how MC reacts and will start doing these things more often.

He would probably make them help him with his workout so MC could really get close to him to see and touch his muscles. post work out sex I am just saying

Belphegor

He really takes advantage off all the time cuddling with MC to see how far he can go when it comes to touching them, while still making sure they are comfortable.

It starts either with a hug from behind when MC is doing something else or with simple cuddles. His hands will start to wonder just slightly under their shirt or just barely over their thighs all while trying too see their reaction.

Everything he would say would be done so either with his face in the crook of their neck or as a whisper near MC's ear. It probably just be normal stuff at first, but the more he sees MC get into it the more he will start going about what he would actually want to do with them.

It's a really slow process but the little shit knows how to use his words and from what started as innocent cuddles it leads to MC doing nearly whatever he wants.

I also feel like he would go into their dreams and try to seduce them there too. This would led to MC having to seek Belphie out once they wake up from that dream.

[tavs-brainworm]

Got something NASTY cooking for my fellow sub!Ascended Astarion enjoyers, and I'm finally far enough into it that I feel comfy posting a preview. There's no telling when it'll be finished but I'm just frothing at the mouth to share it.

More under the cut (~750 words) for those of you who want to read about two deeply pathetic people having terrible sex. Enjoy.

** Quick note: There's nothing too crazy in this preview (just a little blood and orgasm denial), but keep in mind that the full version will come with a very long list of content warnings, including blurry consent and ptsd flashbacks. Unfortunately my Tav is a bad person and subsequently a bad dom. ** Btw Io rhymes with Leo **

Astarion squirms, pushing against her finger and the warm hand on his hip to communicate his frustration, but Io’s touch remains measured and pianissimo and not enough. Her humming ends in a melodic chuckle.

“I’m not neglecting you, am I, love?”

Astarion huffs and drawls sarcastically, “Oh, don’t mind me, darling. You said this would be your pleasure, remember?”

Another laugh and the finger withdraws from him completely. Astarion grinds his teeth to keep a whine from slipping out.

“And everything that is mine is firstly yours, is it not?” She leans over to pour more oil in her hands, rubbing them together to warm it. “I’m yours to command, always. If this isn’t to your liking then, by all means, turn me over and fuck me however it pleases you.”

Astarion’s teeth grind harder as Io gives the tip of his cock a chaste kiss, and her finger returns to its leisurely massaging of his hole. Her offer is… tempting. It was surely meant as a taunt. Astarion knows that Io would, in fact, be more than happy to play pillow princess for the rest of the night if that was what he wanted from her, and, often, it is.

But that’s not what he wants tonight. Astarion can admit to himself that he’s come to crave this kind of attention from her, and it’s been too long since the last time she offered this.

“You would try to trick me into doing all the work, wouldn’t you, you greedy little thing?”

Io grins toothily up at him, and Astarion thinks he might have told the little devil exactly what she wanted to hear. “Don’t you worry, love,” she says, finally, finally, pressing into him for real, and Astarion lets out a sigh of release. “I know what you need.”

Io pumps her finger in and out of him, slowly, not yet going for his spot. She wraps the fingers of her other hand around his cock, pumping him there, too.

Astarion sighs blissfully, sinking further into the sheets. Io’s touch is skilled and confident, but not like his. Fingers trained to draw sound from string, not bodies, and the working of her hands is rhythmic and deliberate, in and out, up and down. A second finger joins her first inside him, the two of them pumping a steady rhythm and just barely teasing the edge of his prostate, feather light pressure that makes Astarion’s breath come hard and his hands clench into fists around their silk sheets.

A bead of precum dribbles out of him and – Gods, he should’ve asked for this sooner, it’s not like Io has ever told him no – she swipes over it with her thumb, adding his slick to the oil before Astarion can think too hard about how worked up he is over so little.

“Beautiful, just beautiful,” she coos, moving up to kiss him on the mouth. The praise and the thick curtains of her hair fall around him like a pleasant haze, and Astarion wraps a hand gently around her throat to keep her close.

At last, Io drags her fingers hard over his spot and Astarion moans unabashedly into her mouth where she devours it, kissing him so hard that fangs gnash into flesh and they taste the mixing of their blood. Io whines, chasing the taste of him, and Astarion’s grip on her throat tightens in tandem with hers on his cock, and, for a moment, it seems things might be nearing their end mournfully soon as Astarion can’t help but to buck his hips up into her grasp and grind down on her fingers caressing the inside of him, over and over and over, his pleasure bubbling up from his throat and from his cock and it’s so good, Io is so, so perfect, so good for him, so-

The hand on his cock stops. Io clamps firmly around the base of him and withdraws her fingers. The moan halfway out of Astarion’s throat ends reedy and high-pitched as his hips buck against the cruel grasp, chasing a climax now hopelessly out of reach. Frustration keeps his grip tight around Io’s throat, but when Astarion opens his eyes, she looks no worse for wear. She stares at him hungrily, licking the blood smeared on her lips.

[flowerandblood]

The Knight & The Judge Epilogue

[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, handjob, smut, angst, description of physical and mental disabilities, swearing, mention of sexual assault, an accident with fatalities and trauma ]

[ description: A few months pass since the events that changed his life, and his Esmeralda, despite her earlier decisions, chooses to continue taking care of Daeron. Aemond attends therapy, his condition improves and their bond gives him strength, still, however, he does not know, despite how much he loves her, what their relationship is. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, sexual tension, pathetic, devastated Aemond. ]

Author’s note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version “Esmeralda” is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.

Part 1 − The Knight & The Judge Part 2 − The Sin & The Penance Part 3 − The Doubt & The Delight

Main Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

He had to clench his lips to keep anything more than grunts from coming out of them as he watched how, with quick, sure thrusts of his hips, he spread her slick folds wide open on his fat cock with loud slaps of skin against skin, his palms digging into the wonderfully soft structure of her hot buttocks, feeling her throbbing around him faster and faster.

He sighed when she cried out loudly as he added his hand between her thighs, his fingers finding her puffy clit, sore from previous caresses of his tongue − although they both tried not to make any noise knowing that Daeron was watching a movie downstairs, the treatments of his fingertips caused an involuntary whimper of delight to come from her lips.

"− no, baby − quiet − shhh, I know, we're almost there −" He murmured tenderly, leaning down, his hand sinking into her soft dark hair, pressing her face against the pillow, careful not to make it hard for her to breathe, wanting to muffle her moans.

"− grab my hand if you want me to stop −" He breathed out, quickening his pace, pounding into her so fast that he tilted his head back in pleasure, but her hand did not grab his wrist, her fingers tightened on the pillow on either side of her head instead, her fleshy walls began to clench around his cock in orgasm, sucking him inside, he felt her moisture begin to run down his thighs with her helpless whine of relief.

"− thaat's it − thaat's it, babygirl − fuck −" He mumbled as he let go at last, panting hard, feeling his warm seed spill deep inside her − for a moment his mind was stunned with pleasure, his body trembled from the hot sensation that flowed in waves through his body, his hand let go of her hair and she turned her head to the side, breathing loudly.

"− are you all right? − I'm sorry, he really could hear us −" He whispered, leaning lower, laying on top of her gently, placing a tender, warm, wet kiss on her neck, stroking her bare shoulder with his broad hand.

"− I know − it's me who's sorry −" She muttered. He let his breath out loudly with a smirk, shaking his head, sinking his face into her fragrant hair.

"− do you need anything? − can we stay like this for a while? −" He asked, not wanting to slip out of her yet, just dreaming of taking a nap cuddled up against her naked body, missing her so much for the two days she hadn't been home with them.

"− yes − but we shouldn't leave him alone for too long −" She whispered, and he hummed under his breath, agreeing with her.

"− will you stay overnight? −" He asked quietly, running his fingers up and down her naked body, feeling goosebumps appear in the places he touched.

"− yes −"

They returned to Dareon after several minutes, his younger brother accustomed to them disappearing occasionally to talk, watching quietly with contentment his favourite part of Star Wars.

"Have you discussed everything yet?" He asked lightly, putting his hand to the rustling popcorn, trying to get a full handful of it into his mouth, glancing at them out of the corner of his eye. He chuckled, sitting down next to him on the couch, watching his Esmeralda went to pour herself some water dressed in his black T-shirt and shorts.

He loved this view.

He scratched his cheek with his thumb trying not to think about the fact that at the mere memory of what he was doing to her just now he felt like taking her upstairs again.

"Yeah, buddy. All set." He grumbled, spreading himself out comfortably and sighing quietly, exhausted − their gazes met as she raised a glass of water to her lips and lowered her gaze, embarrassed and insecure. He swallowed loudly at the sight, feeling a squeeze in his heart.

It seemed to him that something was going on with her lately − she was sadder than usual and drifted away with her thoughts. On top of that, recently she was the one who had been grabbing his hand and guiding it between her thighs, demanding his caresses. There was something desperate about it and although he had asked her many times if everything was okay, she always answered him that it was.

He knew he had no right to ask her anything.

They were not together and he would never have dared to suggest it, fearing rejection.

He kept telling her how much he loved her and he could see in her gaze, feel in her embrace and in the touch of her hand that she also had feelings for him, albeit complicated and painful ones.

His prosecutorial nature insisted in his mind that he should start investigating, that he should start following her, that perhaps someone was nagging her, her professor or a colleague, but fearing his intervention she did not want to tell him anything.

He knew, however, that if she found out he was doing something behind her back she would not forgive him.

He couldn't help himself however − one day, while she and Daeron were sitting on the patio talking to each other by the sliding glass door, he went out to prepare the meat they were going to grill for lunch, according to their plan spending the afternoon in the garden. He came back because he had forgotten the tray, but stopped at the wall when he heard the question Daeron had asked her.

"Have you forgiven my brother? For what he did to you back then." He asked uncertainly. He heard her shift restlessly in her wicker chair, probably looking away to see if he was anywhere near them. She sighed quietly.

"I've done him wrong too. He's trying really hard. I know he's not like that every day. That I'm important to him and that he really cares about me." She said softly, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke the words.

He closed his eyes, feeling a tightness in his throat, swallowing with difficulty at the thought that he felt pain and relief at the same time, that she recognised his efforts, that she knew he wasn't lying when he spoke about how much he cared for her.

"I've been thinking about it a lot. About why he hurt you. And I think he did because he never shouted at me. He never got angry with me even when I cried for hours. I think if he shouted at you then or hit you it was because he missed our mum and dad too. Because he couldn't cope with it and our eldest brother didn't take care of him like he did me.

Before you showed up on the first day he was very afraid that you would be late or not come. That he would leave me with you and you would hurt me. I remember his hands were shaking when he had his coffee in the morning. He told me not to trust you and that if you just did something I didn't like, I should call him. I think it was all because I wanted to dance."

His brother muttered, and he just stood there stunned with his mouth wide open, breathing hard, feeling tears burning under his eyelids at the thought that he thought he was hiding everything that was going on inside him well, and Daeron had seen it all anyway, but as a child he couldn't comprehend what was really happening to him.

I think if he shouted at you then or hit you it was because he missed our mum and dad too.

He covered his face with his hand, stifling a sob at the thought that he thought he had just shouted at her or hit her, that he hadn't even assumed what had really happened between them.

He was horrified at how long she had not responded, and once he heard her voice he felt a piercing pain in his lower abdomen at the thought that she was crying too, unable to catch her breath.

"I...Daeron, this had and has nothing, nothing to do with you. This is our adult business, okay? It's very complicated." She muttered wearily, and he swallowed heavily, trying to calm his ragged breathing, clenching his eyelids tightly.

Whatever he would do, it would always come back to them.

"I heard him tell you he loved you. I know he said it to you because when I knocked on his room he said he was talking to you on the phone." Said his younger brother, clearly trying to get to the point of starting this whole conversation and topic at all.

"Are you two going to be together?"

Silence.

Never before in his life had he been so afraid, never had he suffered so much, never had he felt so alone and desperate as when he waited for her answer.

"Don't you love him?" Daeron asked quietly after a moment, as if he was afraid his brother would accidentally hear them. "You can tell me, it's not a bad thing. I'll keep a secret."

He heard her sobbing, heard her uneven, loud breathing, the fact that she was falling apart, that he was the cause of her eternal heartbreak and suffering.

"I'm afraid to be with him. I'm afraid to name it. As long as I don't agree, he can't hit me again and yell at me. The distance makes me feel like I'm in control of the situation, that I can disappear at any time and not explain myself. That it won't hurt me when I bore him. Do you understand?" She asked him quietly, his brother swallowed loudly.

"Are you afraid of my brother?" He whispered frightened, heard her draw in the air loudly, sniffling.

"I'm scared of what he's doing to me. I think I'm getting addicted to him, like people get addicted to alcohol or drugs." She muttered, and he took a few steps back, feeling tear after tear run down his face.

He didn't run when he heard her rise from her seat as she entered the house, clearly wanting to go quickly to the bathroom − she jumped when she spotted him standing against the wall, her eyes and mouth wide open in disbelief and horror.

"− Aemond −" She mumbled, and he swallowed loudly and grunted, walking over to the countertop, getting back to work.

"The meat will be ready soon."

He heard her stand still, her breathing loud, unsure of what to do, understanding perfectly well that he'd heard everything they'd said.

She didn't love him.

She was just addicted to him.

He thought dispassionately that he was like a stimulant that was destroying her life, not allowing her to live in another healthy relationship.

He heard her moving ahead after a while, locking herself in the toilet, heard her loud sobbing, his palms shaking all over as he cut the meat, tears one by one dripping onto the wooden board beneath his hands.

They spent the evening as they had planned, pretending nothing had happened, Daeron telling them about a new game he really wanted to play and a new cartoon he was watching.

In the night he locked himself sooner in his bedroom, feeling that he couldn't be around her, remorse and self-pity prevented him from breathing or functioning.

He shuddered, feeling the quick pounding of his heart as he heard the quiet creak of his door as usual an hour later − he heard her footsteps, felt her body lay behind him on his bed, sliding up over his duvet, felt her hand on his stomach.

He clenched his eyelids as his cock immediately twitched aggressively in this trousers, all swollen.

They lay like that for a while − he could feel her warm breath on his neck, her breasts hidden behind his Tshirt snuggled into his back, her fingers trailing from his sternum to his lower abdomen making shivers run through him.

He found with despair that he had become achingly hard from just her closeness.

"− I'm sorry −" She whispered finally; he shuddered all over and swallowed quietly as her soft, warm lips placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder. "− I didn't mean it −"

He did not reply.

He heard her trembling sigh, her body nestled into his from behind, the way he always used to do.

He felt a single, lonely tear run down the side of his face onto the pillow.

All he was able to manage was to breathe, his heart pounding like mad.

"− you have taken deep root in my heart − you grow in it like an oak tree in my garden full of flowers − and even though I did not want it, I have found cooling in its shade, shelter from the rain under its leaves, from its wood things are made that last −" She whispered and he felt his whole body tremble.

He imagined her, her flower garden and himself.

A great, spreading tree.

"− this is not what my garden was supposed to be − I only wanted flowers in it − but now, when I look at this tree from the window of my house, at its thick trunk, its green, beautiful leaves in summer, yellow and red in autumn, I am glad that I let it grow −" She said softly, her lips again placed a kiss on his neck as her hand slid lower. A broken, helpless moan broke from his throat as he felt her fingers tighten on his swollen, aching manhood, squeezing him with sure up and down strokes.

"− I − mghmm −" He mumbled out, horrified by how pleasurable this was, by the fact that this might be the last time he would see her, by the fact that he no longer knew himself what she felt for him, what would be better for them, what he should want for himself, when all he desired was for her to simply be by his side.

He wanted her to take care of him.

Not out of revenge, not out of lust.

He needed her.

"− I know − easy − I want to take care of you −" She whispered tenderly, in the way he'd dreamed of since he'd met her. He felt heat in his lower abdomen and heart, his hips involuntarily beginning to respond to her movements with rocking, his tip all swollen and sticky with his precum, pulsing in her embrace.

"− please − inside you −" He gasped out and she let go of him, letting him turn to face her − he grabbed her in his arms and pressed his face against her soft, plump breasts hidden beneath his t-shirt. He lifted the material quickly above her thighs, sighing in relief, feeling that she wasn't wearing underwear − she threw her leg over his waist, the fat, pink head of his cock easily forced its way between her slick, hot, plushy folds.

"− f-fuck −" He cried out, tightening his fingers on her back, snuggling into her like a small, frightened child, pounding into her with quick, sure thrusts of his hips, seeking refuge deep inside her, in the only place where he felt safe.

"− I love you − I love you − I love you − please, don't leave me −" He mumbled into her chest, choking on his own tears − her fleshy muscles clenched against him at his words, sucking him inside, his thighs slapping against her buttocks with a loud click of her moisture. He felt her fingers comb through his hair, cuddling him tighter into her, her lips placing a warm kiss on the top of his head.

"− it's too late for me anyway − I'll never be free of how much I want you −" She exhaled with a kind of relief, as if she'd been wanting to get it out of her for a long time, as if she'd finally come to terms with the fact that they were doomed to each other not because they'd decided to, but because, for some reason, they fit together like two parts of a whole.

Her hips responded to his pushes, his hand clamping down hard on her hot, soft buttocks, forcing her to let him in deeper, slamming into her so fast that he was no longer sliding out with a loud slaps of naked skin.

"− oh, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck −" He gasped out loud, for the first time being so vocal and helpless in bed, more so than when she was riding him, more so ever in his life, feeling that he no longer had the strength to pretend that he wasn't tired, that he wasn't disappointed, that he wasn't crying during the night when she wasn't next to him, that he was coping with the fact that he'd hurt the woman he'd loved so much the first day he'd really met her.

He felt her orgasm, her body arching back in shock at how intense the sensation was, soaking him wet, her palms clenching on his back, responding to his thrusts with the rocking of her hips for a moment longer, sweet, helpless moans of pleasure coming from her lips.

"− I want to have a family with you − to have children with you −" He muttered with relief as he felt the heat spill over his lower abdomen when he finally came inside her, delighted that she was letting him feel herself again, that he was deep inside her, inside his safe place, inside his home. He heard her sigh softly.

"− one day −"

[operator-report]

In middle school, I read a short story for English class called Flowers for Algernon. Maybe you’ve read it, too. In the story, a disabled man named Charlie is given a medicine that cures his disability. Over the course of the story, he comes to realize that his “cure” is temporary and that he will “regress” into being disabled again. The story makes it clear that this is a tragedy. As a disabled teenager when I first read it, the story affected me deeply.

I’d like to talk about David and Noelle. 

Content warnings for discussion of suicide, self-harm, ableism and eating disorders below the cut. Spoilers for Worm through arc 27. 

When I was first reading arc 18, one of the things that stuck out to me is how much time the story spends on Eidolon. For me, it was the first time I paid much attention to him - prior to that, Eidolon was just an extremely powerful background character to me. But in arc 18, we learn that (1) Eidolon is losing his powers and (2) he believes that fighting Echidna will allow him to tap into some sort of reservoir to bring them back.

We find this out, of course, through Tattletale exposing him, which is always an extremely embarrassing event for Tattletale’s target. It makes it extremely clear that what Eidolon is doing is pathetic. He is going to kill a teenage girl so he can feel something. 

Which would be messed up enough, right? We don’t need to make this even worse, right? Wrong. Because Wildblow has spent the last several thousand words building up the Case 53s as X-Men style metaphors for oppressed groups, and one of the forms of oppression that Wildblow generally writes well is ableism. I think you can consider most, if not all of the Case 53s as disabled in some way. I think the link is extremely clear with Noelle.

Noelle doesn’t get her powers from traditional Cauldron human experimentation - at least, not directly. Instead, she and Krouse are facing what is, to them, a no-win scenario. They’re quarantined with limited access to medical care. Breaching this quarantine would permanently render them criminals. If Noelle survives her surgery, which is a pretty big if, she’ll become disabled, in a way that both Krouse and Noelle agree is ugly and undesirable. She won’t be able to do “boyfriend-girlfriend stuff” because she won’t be “any good to look at, after.” 

Krouse and Noelle are terrified of death, yes, but they’re also terrified of disability. They are desperate for control over Noelle’s body, control that, as of that moment, only the state has. (Remember the quarantine?) Krouse pressures Noelle into drinking the vial. Noelle is cured. 

Noelle’s cure does not last. In attempting to assert control, her body becomes uncontrollable. Her body is her trauma and her eating disorder made literal. She still needs care.

Worm would be bad if this is why her life sucks. But Worm does something better, instead. Noelle goes through hell, not just due to the sheer difficulty of having her power, but because of the way her teammates and Coil treat her. They talk about Noelle like she’s already dead. They’re ashamed of bringing her the food she needs. When Krouse “includes” Noelle in a discussion in arc 12, it’s mostly perfunctory. They do not believe Noelle is human any longer. They lock her away.

Noelle doesn’t want to be put in a cage. Noelle doesn’t want to be dehumanized. In interlude 18, when we get insight into Noelle’s thoughts, we learn that what Noelle is angry about is the fact that Krouse locked her in a concrete bunker and placated her. When she tells people not to look at her, there’s a coda to that sentence that she doesn’t get to verbalize: don’t look at me like that. 

This is the person who Eidolon is going to kill. 

Via the Simurgh, this is a person Eidolon has unknowingly created.

A few thousand words of Worm go by. It’s Gold Morning. Eidolon is fighting Scion. Now, at the end of the book, we finally get substantial insight into David, the man behind the mask. 

David takes a Cauldron vial to cure his disability. David sees this as the only way out, after an unsuccessful application to join the military, and then, an unsuccessful suicide attempt. David is bearing an immense amount of shame and internalized ableism. David is worried that father’s friends are watching him. (Don’t look at me.) David cleaves the world into two kinds of people: those who can have jobs, who are liked and respected because they are useful; and people like him, who are useless.

It’s a terrible way to think. Without that worldview, how could a person not take the vial? David wants to be used, because David wants to be useful. He never gets the independence he craves – not when he’s in that level of debt to Cauldron – but he gets to be useful, and that’s one of the best things you can be.

Like Noelle’s, like Charlie’s in Flowers, David’s cure doesn’t work. His abilities are wearing off. He is essentially told, when Doctor Mother administers his booster shots, that his medicine is too expensive. 

Cauldron creates Noelle. David, as Cauldron’s soldier, has a role to play in her creation. David knows exactly what he is doing to Noelle. It happened to him. Worm fandom talks a lot about David being a father. He’s a father in more ways than one. (David’s father is always watching him.) (Don’t look at me.)

Cauldron never cures David’s ableism. In his world, you can be useful, or you can die. David asks Noelle if she wants to win. Noelle tells him no. You can have a job, or you can kill yourself. When David tries to kill Noelle to help himself, isn’t that a mercy?

Of course it isn’t. It goes without saying that all of this is extremely fucked up. When it comes to disability, “cure” is a complicated concept. I’m not going to get into all the ways it can be treated; this post is already a thousand words long. But I do think that Worm, through Noelle and David and the concept of the Cauldron vial, provides an extremely vivid picture of the problems with cure. 

Under ableist logic, when you have a disability, a cure is something you’re expected to want. Without it, the story goes, you can’t be useful. You can’t do boyfriend-girlfriend stuff. The expectation is social, like the act of staring. Your desire for it should drive how you organize your life – it is control, like a quarantine. David is crushed by that expectation. He throws his lot in with Cauldron, the cure-makers. The expectation is passed along to Noelle, and even though David can recognize that inheritance, he cannot imagine any other way to respond to it other than attempted murder.

At the beginning of this post, I mentioned that Flowers for Algernon is a tragedy. The reason that story has stuck with me so long is that I keep going back and forth as to why. Is it a tragedy because Charlie goes back to being disabled? There’s a good chance that’s what the author intended. I don’t know. It would be a pretty shitty story if that were the case. Is it a tragedy because people only treat Charlie well when he’s “cured,” and when that stops, he’ll go back to abuse? Seems plausible. I don’t think there’s one right answer. Regardless, when you’re disabled, there’s an immense pressure to seek out a cure, and a cognizable loss when it is withheld. The fact that Worm captures that social pressure and social loss so well is extremely compelling for me, and I’m going to be thinking about these characters for a long time.

[l1tw1ck]

Short for Bottom ftm Stu x top male reader?

Reader will do anything to keep his life which includes fucking stu and if it satisfies him, he’ll let the reader live. The readers crying, begging for his life while he fucks stu and rubs his clit and nipples trying anything to convince him to spare his life?

bottom!ftm Stu x top!masc reader

☆ AFAB Language Used ☆

CW: Non-Con, Dacryphilia

You had no other choice. What other option did you have when he threatened you with your life? You have too much to live for and you certainly don't want to be stabbed to death. You would do anything to save your life, even though you don't want to do it.

Stu holds back his moans to keep you scared, the chaotic grin on his face is the only indication that he's enjoying this and you assume it's only because of how pathetic and desperate you are right now. You could die at any given moment, how could you not be?

“Please don't kill me–!” You beg, hot tears falling onto Stu’s face. “I won't tell anyone, I swear!” Your thrusts are sloppy and inconsistent thanks to the fact that your body’s practically unstable from crying so hard. You have people you love, you can't die like this. You're horrified that you won't be able to satisfy him, you’re a virgin for God’s sake, you know next to nothing about pleasing another person. The most you know is that the clit and nipples are sensitive. You move your head over to his chest and lick his nipple experimentally. You can feel Stu tightening around you and you assume that's a good thing so you keep going. You bring your hand over to his pussy and blindly search for his clit. Since you can't see, you take a lucky guess and rub circles around what you rightfully assume is his clit. Stu lets a moan slip out, unintentionally telling you that you're doing well.

You pull away and more tears fall down your cheeks, tears of joy and relief. “Does that feel good?” You ask shakily. Stu decides to stop hiding it and nods, more moans escaping his lips. “Thank God-” You keep going, hoping he’ll come soon and you’ll be freed.

Stu rolls his head back and comes, bringing you the relief you so desperately needed. You stop but before you can pull out he stops you. “I'm gonna keep you.” He smirks, pulling your shirt collar and bringing you into a kiss. Your heart drops. What does that mean? Will he kidnap you or will he keep doing this over and over? Either way, you’re terrified.

[feralgodmothers]

Not sure what exactly brought this thought on, but I wanted to put it out there anyway.

I was thinking about how people make fun of Austin for “acting like Elvis” and “acting like James Dean” every time his voice goes a little deeper or he stares a little harder.

And that got me thinking even further about pop culture, and how people’s impression on both Elvis AND James Dean don’t really line up with what the men are actually like, or what truly made them influential.

Of course, yes - they’re both undeniably cool. And they’re rightfully considered to be cool icons. But the aspects of them that have been idolized are very two-dimensional when you compare them to everything they have to offer, and it strips away a lot of their depth.

Take Elvis. True, he was a cool, rebel rockstar (and that’s awesome), but when you only focus on that, you get the pop culture trickle-down effect, where “definitive” things associated with him, such as this moment in Grease

indirectly paints a portrait of him that has nothing to do with the man himself (like, come on - you can’t tell me Elvis was afraid of hugs).

And same with James Dean (Now, truth be told - I don’t know much about the actual man, but I’ve seen him in a couple of his film roles, and I think that’s probably where a lot of his “cool guy” appeal comes from anyway). In his case, sure - there’s a lot of ‘cool guy’ brooding, slouching, posing, and aloofness. But along with that - there’s also some (if not a larger fraction of) real, raw emotion.

For every scene where he’s cool, calm, and collected, there’s a bigger, more character-defining scene where he’s… not any of those things. His characters go through a lot of emotional turmoil and pain, almost to the point of being pathetic. And yet, what he’s most known for is essentially the Rebel Without a Cause poster.

It’s just very fascinating to me to watch people cherrypick the most shallow bits, define these men by them, and proceed to mock others with them - when really, there’s a whole spectrum of humanity there, which even includes some wholesome masculinity.

So yeah - in that sense, I think Austin IS like Elvis and James Dean, and that’s a genuinely marvelous thing. He’s charismatic, sympathetic, deep, and he contains multitudes.

Thank you, and goodnight.