#scarves and coffee
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Imgur is cleaning out their database
I know this is a long shot and it's mostly a reddit thing, but if anyone has at any point hosted any remotely NSFW fan content on Imgur, they will soon be removing it. They are also removing all images uploaded by people without accounts they call "old, unused, and inactive content", which will be years worth of things just gone.
They'll be using automatic detection software to help delete things, so I'd recommend you back up anything you have hosted there in general just in case. I'd hate to lose more fandom content and art than we already have in the Tumblr purge.
I used to recommend using Imgur (among other sites) to host images used in stories on S&C, so please be aware of this and preferably use a different site going forward. If you did use Imgur for this, or for any other reason across the internet, please make sure you update this content and/or host it elsewhere to minimize the loss. This will go into effect on May 15, 2023.
#imgur#klaine#fanfiction#fanart#fandom#scarves and coffee#this is going to be such a loss for the internet in general#scarves log
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-> clegan teacher!AU 📚🏈
College friends (/almost lovers) who drifted apart after graduating from post-grad teacher training and moving to opposite ends of the country.
Physics teacher!Gale x Phys Ed/Football Coach!John
Up to this point, Bucky's only ever been in assistant coaching positions.
That is, until he gets an out-of-the-blue phone call from Gale one day letting him know about a position opening up at his school halfway across the country. A PE teaching position with a head football coach role attached if he wanted it and could prove he was qualified.
(The school being desperate to revive their once-formidable team's chances after a spate of retirements and departures and downright bad luck. They're willing to try anything, and even for only being an assistant coach, Bucky's got some momentum behind his name/reputation at that point).
After not even hearing from Gale in over a year and a half (and still being a little burned by it), Bucky has to decide whether to drop everything and take a chance or carry on-course with the pretty successful life he'd finally sort of settled himself into without him.
Spoiler: he ends up choosing the former.
People can't quite believe the rumours that serious, focused, (kind of a hard-ass) Mr Cleven would've been best friends with a guy like Coach Egan. Even watching the dynamic play out in front of them, they're not sure most of the time what to make of it, lol.
('it' being ✨ sexual/romantic tension ✨ of a kind previously unwitnessed by any living person within the bounds of the continental united states).
#clegan#buck x bucky#john bucky egan#gale buck cleven#twobucks#it's coming togeeeeether#the vibes of this for me are giving mid west#rust belt football craziness#autumn colours orange leaves fall fairs coats scarves hot coffee#books and rain and dark nights#all of that#Spotify
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MICKEY'S SELFSHIP STATISTICS: SEASONS ASSIGNED
▹ spring - miji, mihime, mikuna, miten ▹ summer - michuu, misho, miyuu ▹ autumn - mizai, misu, miromi ▹ winter - mitoru, miwa
#i think summer for misho might be the biggest ?????#but we love lounging around the house in just some undies and each others shirts while whining abt how hot it is#miji is all about the spring rain and mihime is about the growing flowers#mikuna is the air after the rain#michuu is about kissing each others freckles#both mizai and misu are abt coffee shop dates and hand holding#and long coats and scarves#aaaand mitoru is all about making snow angels and laughter#hot chocolate and ice skating#snowball fights and red cheeks#:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((i love them all so so much
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does anyone have an epub version of Hiding Who We Truly Are by Ella-Tripier ? thankyou !!
It's now on Scarves & Coffee, if you sign in. You can download it from there? Currently says 14/, so I'm unsure if finished ~Jen
Hiding Who We Truly Are by Ella_Tripier
Blaine and Kurt are secret friends and at nine years old they have made a deal that Blaine will 'bully' Kurt so no one else can. But what happens seven years later when they are still in the same situation but now they are secret Boyfriends? Can it work?
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my uni tips as a second year student 🍂🧸💭
💭 know when your classes start!
This may seem like a no-brainer but believe me when I tell you there are students who won’t know when or how many classes they have. This will only lead to stress and an unorganised mind. Check your schedule for the first period/semester ideally 2 weeks before school officially starts. That way you’ll have plenty of time to plan other activities around your lectures!
🍂 make friends, especially the first few weeks
Now, call me naive but I thought I could go through uni all by myself, without the headache of keeping up with the social scene but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Most studies are fairly big, with the number of students being 300 or even more if you follow a popular study. Simply put, this means chaos. Having friends to answer questions like: “When did the professor say the deadline was? Do we get the extra points if we do x, y, z? What was the new date for the midterm?” will save your academic life more than once. Two people know more than one, so help each other! Plus sitting next to someone you know and having people to talk to about your courses is very comforting to have :)
🕰️ make your assignments on time!
I know this is an obvious one, but trust me when I say that pushing that assignment, project, or homework to the very last day will only give you unnecessary stress. Ideally you should start your assignment on the day it’s been published so you can really take your time to grasp the concepts being discussed, thus preparing you better for the upcoming midterm and finals (less work for future you!)
🧸 make time for rest and relaxation!
Many students will tell you that they don’t have time for anything besides their study. In my honest opinion, this is easily dodged by simply having decent time management. I try to plan the following week on a Sunday so I know what assignments are due, when my classes are, etc. In my experience it’s more difficult to follow the planning I made than actually making it, so try to keep it realistic. You’re probably not gonna manage to write 2 essays and make an assignment in one single day so keep that in mind. I’d suggest to go to campus (or a cafe or library or another cosy study spot) in the morning and stay there until the afternoon. This makes you more productive and gives you free time for the whole evening!
I hope you found some good tips in this mini guide and please, do let me know if you liked it and would like to see more such posts <3
Xoxo, Florentism
#university#school#back to school#autumn#autumn vibes#cinnamon#tea#reading#books#dark acadamia aesthetic#academic weapon#studyinspo#mini guide#rory gilmore#gilmore girls#that girl#big scarves#coffee
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So what's one of your favorite Tsutsumi fits 😉
random as hell question to be askin 🤨 so mysterious...
but since you did ask probably this one <3 from the second episode of pure <3
#snap chats#i love his scarves and turtlenecks in this too- i love a lot of toru's outfits tbh. i just think he's cute in general </3#highkey its prob one of my faves cause this is also my favorite sequence of scenes#he and yuka are just esp cute it makes me giggle#their autism4autism love is my favorite..... fr this sequence is so cute like CAN I. RAMBLE about it real quick#cause it's a scene where yuka invites toru home but there's a sign left by her mom on the door that says not to let strangers in#and With His Eyes toru reads it like 'is it ok if im here ??' and yuka just 🥺 'youre my friend and a nice person so its ok :)'#and then he just gives her The Stare™️ yk the one and i cry. AND THE SCENE AFTER WHEN SHE'S TRYING TO MAKE COFFEE--#guys this is my favorite episode for a reason idc pure still has a chokehold on me 😭😭😭 theyre so cute..#back to the outfit tho its also just. VERY city-goer to me idk what it is. prob all the denim. prob cause its somethin my dad would wear--#im usually denim's number-one hater but if ttm's wearing it it's ok#OH ALSO update on OMC2: ttm IS in it TECHNICALLY but it's just a quick flashback segment#it's. it's a flashback to the ending scene ☠️#even in a movie he's not technically in he's still shirtless girl i cant#and yet he was never shirtless in THIS show... lol....#anyway yeah it this one <3 def had plans of stealing it since the store i usually shop at's having a sale and they're sellin a similar shir#that'll have to be plans for christmas i think....
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11/24
Cozy bear in a scarf :)
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it's fall so obviously my whole family is in hot chocolate mode nd my mom's asking me if i want hot chocolate every night. which is wonderful except for the fact that we live in southern california where fall is Wildfire Season aka Summer 2: Less Pleasant aka Not Cold and it's 90 degrees every day so i do not really want to drink a hot beverage at 5 pm all that much </3
#like mom you're so nice for offering and i love you but have you considered that we do not need to perform fall </3#no thank you on the hot chocolate. i'll take my little coffee out of the fridge though#my mom and siblings drinking hot chocolate rn like every white girl here in uggs drinking pumpkin spice lattes on september first#85 degrees outside and the sky is red from the fires. but it is autumn and so the scarves are Out babey#valentine notes
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My Winter Best
A set of styles by aleshka on StyleHint
Mi Chujin and Glapis Ralin are ocs by me :)
#stylehint#uniqlo#original angel#original character#oc#original characters#pastel#coffee#kawaii#anime#winter style#Mortality Complex#blue#winter#scarf#scarves#style#alien#aliens#alien girl
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I know no one asked but...
I like scarves and ponchos. I don't wear scarves at all though.
I do wear a black poncho. Ponchos are kinda comfy though :/
And you know the drill.
Don't. eat. coffee grains.
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I do not have Boy Knowledge to trade, but can I ask for dinner party hosting tips???
Sure!
I grew up broke but the great-grandparents passed on all their old etiquette, so *fart noise* got a lot of old fashioned shit kickin around, this is what we'd do
PREP:
Clean the house in advance. And not just common areas- the whole place. Minimum the kitchen, living room, bathroom, entrance. Take out all the trash, no dirty dishes, scrub out the toilet. (This is less vital with super casual close friends and family.)
Have snacks ready before arrival. Ask in advance about any allergies and accommodate. Same for actual food.
Aim for business-casual clothing. Jeans are okay if they're well-fitted and clean, with no holes, but nothing acid-wash. Sleeveless shirts should be at least three fingers wide, typically women-only but fuck gender conformity I don't give a shit.
Put coffee or the kettle on a minute or two before you expect people to arrive. Coffee should be fresh and kettle should be boiled around the same time folks arrive.
Have a place for people to put their coats and shoes. An area rug works for shoes, ans if you don't have a coat rack or closet for jackets it's handy to have a bedroom cleaned out and a bed made so people can keep coats, scarves, bags, and purses somewhere.
In some cultures cooking doesn't start until guests arrive. The way I was raised, cooking starts much earlier, and things should be coming out of the oven after they've been there a few minutes and had time to chat.
Set the table before guests arrive: Typical setting when I was younger was matching placemats at every seat, plate next. Fork on the left, knife and then spoon on the right. Wine glass on the right, saucer on the right, cup on saucer for hot drinks. Cloth napkin under the spoon and knife on the right, unless rolled with a napkin ring, in which case it could be set at the top of the plate, on the plate, or on the right hand side. Salt, pepper, and a butter dish is to be set out- one of each for every four to six seats is a decent rule of thumb.
DURING:
Guests are expected to announce themselves by knocking or ringing the bell. When this happens, usually a younger member of the family is sent to answer the door and let them in. Hosts follow shortly after, and hugs and greetings take place. The host offers to take people's coats and bags, or otherwise indicates where they can be placed. Shoes come off and are left at the door.
Tour of the house. This doesn't happen every time, but a quick, "let me show you around" may happen if you expect to be there a full day or longer, or if someone needs to politely stall for time, or if the host is especially happy to have you there or to show you something. This usually skips bedrooms, but a nod will usually be given to indicate adult's rooms, and kid's rooms may be peeked at to show off or do introductions with small children.
Offering seats. Usually starts in the living room, where, "can I get you anything?" Is asked. Options usually include wine, beer, water, some kind of juice, coffee, or tea. Possibly ginger ale or cola, but not usually much in the way of sodas.
At this point, a tray of cookies, biscuits, crackers, or other small snacks might be set our to be shared. Here, it's polite to eat a little and join in on smalltalk.
Dinner. When food is ready to come out of the oven, someone in the host's home will announce that dinner is ready, and guests and hosts will relocate to the dinner table and pick seats. (If there is not enough room at the dinner table for everybody, children's plates will be set at a folding table elsewhere, or in the vacated living room area.)
Some hosts will have guests line up in the kitchen and serve their own food one at a time. The way I was taught, hosts bring food and serving utensils to the table and sit once everything is placed. Dishes are then passed in a circle from person to person as people fill their own plates. It is generally assumed that you will take your portion in such volume that everyone else can receive the same amount as you, or more.
Meal usually includes a meat-based dish, a starch like rice or potato, one to three vegetable dishes, and a bread like a bun or roll that may be buttered.
It is here preferred that you ask for something to be passed rather than reach over food. "Could you pass me the..." or "may I borrow the ..." are good ways to ask.
Elbows stay off the table. You may rest your forearms on the edge if you like, depending on how formal we're talking, but no elbows.
Napkin is spread out flat on your lap to catch anything that may drop or spill. Some people may choose to tuck I into their shirt collar to protect their suit or tie, but I've only really ever seen old folks do that, or people doing it to babies and small children.
It is polite to eat everything on your plate, especially if you served yourself. Once everyone has eaten their plate, seconds may be offered or mentioned. It's considered rude to go in for second servings if others haven't finished their firsts yet. This is a good place for conversation to pick up.
Once everyone is finished eating, a member of the hosts' house (usually a kid, sometimes a volunteer guest assisting) will clear the table, gathering empty plates and such from the guests and taking them to the kitchen to be cleaned. Drinks might be refilled now, and dessert forks or spoons might be brought in.
Dessert usually happens. While the meal itself is traditionally homemade, it is perfectly normal for dessert to be store-bought.
The serving of dessert is much less communal than dinner. The person dishing dessert will normally take a stack of plates and send a runner (again, usually a kid) to take stock of who wants dessert and carry theirs to them.
After dessert, dishes will again be gathered and removed, with the exception of cups. Coffee and tea is customary at this point, and alcohol will disappear. This is when conversation comes back in full swing- talking and unwinding is the goal here, and letting any liquor digest so drivers who may have had a sip will be safe to drive afterwards.
END:
Someone will sigh and take note of the time. This is different depending on the group, but a second round of hugs will be in order. Farewells will be made at the door. If there are plenty of leftovers, the host may insist the guest take some. Borrowed dishes and containers will ostensibly be returned at a casual future meeting, possibly as an excuse to meet up and chat over coffee.
It is polite of the guest to offer a hand with cleaning up. It is polite of the host to insist they not. If they are an acquaintance or someone to be impressed, the guest will not be allowed to help clean unless they make it clear that offense will be taken otherwise. If they're a close friend or family member, they may be accepted with some minimal pushback.
The host might start cleaning while the guest is still at the table. This is not intended as an insult.
It is polite to leave around the same time that children begin getting ready for best- usually around 8, 8:30, 9-9:30 on special occasions.
If the weather is especially terrible, or driving conditions are poor, the host might offer the guest a bed for the night. If this is done, it is best to fetch them clean sheets and blankets, a fresh towel, and whatever else they might need. They will be expected to stay no later than breakfast the following morning, unless further plans have been agreed upon. An especially prepared host might have a spare set of pajamas (close friends and family only, usually) and a new toothbrush ready for use.
I think that's everything? A lot of it is weird unspoken shit but yeah lol that's most of what I remember.
I'd love to hear what everyone else grew up with!! Share with me your food culturrrrrrre
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woah, I see AO3 is down today! normal total users is like 120-160 a day for S&C.
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I ONLY WANT TO BE WITH YOU - L.H.
Summary: The small things are never just small things. For Logan, they're the constellations charting the story of him and you.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader
Warnings: Fluff (your heart may not be able to handle this), Established relationship, Domestic AF
A/N: I'll jump at any chance to write for Origins!Logan (he's my man fr). Here's another one for my A Weekend with Logan Howlett event! The prompt was ELATION. Title creds to Shelby Lynne.
MASTERLIST
“Honey, I’m home.”
“In the backyard!”
Keys follow a graceful arc as Logan tosses them into the tray by the door. And as always, they land with a soft clink, a quiet exhalation of metal on ceramic signalling the end of his workday.
The tray itself - a chipped, sun-faded thing you'd unearthed at an antique market one afternoon - bears the loving imprint of time. He remembers the way your eyes lit up immediately, declaring it "perfect" before playfully haggling with the vendor, your laughter ringing through the crowded stalls like a cascade of wind chimes.
Boots thud against the floor. As he toes them off, the memory of your gentle chiding surfaces; "Baby..." drawn out in an affectionate warning as you gestured to the offending muddy tracks.
Logan glances down, half-expecting the telltale streaks of dirt. Instead, the polished wood gleams back, pristine and devoid of smudges. And he knows, with a sweet certainty, that you'll be pleased.
His jacket sways the already-leaning coat rack, adding to the precarious balance of hats, scarves and dog leads you insisted on buying for the neighbour's German Shepherds. Those evenings - leash in hand as the dogs bound ahead, your face alight with a smile rivalling the setting sun - nestle warmly in the depths of his heart.
Couch cushions, dented from countless hours of cuddling and late-night reading, yield lightly beneath his touch as he ventures through the living room. On the coffee table, lit candles cast shadows across faint, nearly invisible rings of condensation, ghosts of beer bottles past.
The fireplace crackles merrily, chasing away the frosty air he'd braved last night to gather the wood piled neatly beside it. "Do you have to?" you'd murmured as he reluctantly unwound himself from your embrace. "I'll be quick, darlin'", the promise sealed with a kiss upon your nose.
Framed photographs adorn the mantlepiece above. One catches Logan's eye in particular: your first Christmas together. The ridiculously ugly sweater you'd crocheted with painstaking - and slightly misguided - enthusiasm encases him. He's tucked into your neck, seeking refuge from both the camera's flash and the itchy wool, but a small, happy smile betrays his discomfort.
Warm apple pie, its sweetness a siren's call, beckons him into the kitchen. A traitorous urge tempts him with visions of a generous sliver. But then he remembers your hand, light yet firm, swatting his greedy fingers away. "Dessert's after dinner, Lo," followed by his usual retort: "As long as you're on the menu, baby."
With a chuckle, he retrieves a bottle of ice-cold water from the fridge, briefly studying the disarray on its shiny surface. Sticky notes, some containing important reminders such as "Bring eggs please!" and "I love you" scrawled alongside silly doodles, compose a riot of colour and ink.
Just beyond the kitchen's threshold, a laundry basket rests patiently under the hallway light. Messy sheets from the morning spill over the rim, tangling with several orphaned socks and those boxers - the unbelievably soft ones you'd gifted him - that Logan swears he can't live without.
Familiar notes sound from the record player. Whistling along, he heads towards the bathroom, the basket bumping gently against his hip. And soon, the rhythmic whir of the washing machine falls in with the melody.
The chipped bathtub stands as evidence of an incident both clumsy and intimate from last week. Steam billowed in a thick cloud as warm water lapped at your shoulders. And in the heat of the moment, Logan's claws scraped a jagged scar across the smooth porcelain. The sudden snikt had been a jarring interruption, but the shared fit of giggles quickly dissolved any tension.
All these thoughts of you urge him straight towards the backyard. And happiness hits him square in the chest, because there you are - kneeling amidst flowerbeds, hands working the rich soil as you nurture your plants.
And then, the pieces fall into place.
Nights whiled away on the porch steps, dreaming about your lives together. The letter, a clerical error addressing you as Mr and Mrs Howlett, which you'd jokingly hung on the wall, echoing a quiet promise. Musings of tiny footprints padding across the floor of what's currently the spare bedroom.
This is it. This is his future.
Without warning, his arm curves beneath you, sweeping you off the ground. "Logan!" you exclaim, clutching his shoulders.
“Marry me. What do you say, sweetheart?"
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett fluff#logan x you#logan howlett imagine#wolverine x you#wolverine#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine imagine#wolverine fluff#logan x reader#logan howlett xmen#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan x f!reader#logan x female reader#logan howlett x f!reader#wolverine x female reader#wolverine x f!reader#james logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#origins!logan#origins!logan x reader#x men origins wolverine#logan howlett angst#wolverine angst#arya’s logan howlett
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A Christmas Carol
Ft. Sakura, Yunjin and Kazuha (and a slither of Irene)
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
This is my christmas fic. Not really jolly but well..
The first snow of December fell lazily, like the sky itself had decided to procrastinate. Arbor's edge, a town that always felt too small and too big at the same time, was cloaked in a thin blanket of white. The streetlamps casted ghastly glows on the street jostling with cheerful people but to you, it felt more like a reminder that the holiday season was here, whether you wanted it or not.
You sat in the corner booth of a diner you were too lazy to memorize the name, nursing a cup of coffee that had long since gone lukewarm. The spoon scraped the bottom of the cup as you stir it mindlessly, having nothing better to do with your hands. Christmas music droned softly through the speakers - some old crooner crooning about snow and mistletoes. You hated mistletoes. Maybe you hated the way it made you remember her.
"Pie?" the waitress asked, her voice chipier in a way that made your teeth ache. Her name tag read Heather, and there was a spring of plastic holly pinned to her apron. Her smile was the kind that stretched too wide, like she's worried her friendliness wouldn't show.
You shook your head. "Just the coffee"
She hestiated for a second then jingled off back to the counter, her fake earrings chiming faintly. The lines on your face seemed to be etched deeper in the black surface of the coffee, swirling like a vortex from your stirs.
Outside, the street was alive with people bundled in scarves and parkas, carrying their holiday groceries and laughing at things you couldn't hear. The light strung along the buildings blinked in unison, a rhythm you found unnervingly cheerful. You sighed and turned your attention back to the window where frost patterns crept across the glass like a map to nowhere.
The coffee had gone cold, but you kept sipping it, more out of habit than need. It's a silent rebellion against the idea that you should leave and go home, where an old friend called emptiness awaited. You knew the routine too well: the dead silence of the apartment, the hum of the fridges compensating for the lack of conversation.
Somewhere behind the counter, Heather laughed like a blissful hyena at someone's joke. Mixed with the clinks of dishes, it's enough to make you feel more like a ghost than a person.
You glanced at the clock on the wall. 9:14 PM. Too early to call it a night but too late to do anything useful. The snow outside was starting to pick up, accumulating in thick layers that turns sidewalks into slick ribbons of slush. People were retreating into their homes, the streets emptying except for the occasional cars that passed by, their headlights cutting through the dark.
The bell above the diner's door jingled but you barely glanced up. Another customer. Someone you probably didn't know. Someone passing through. But the change their presence brought is unmistakable. You felt a shift in the air, like the pressure had dropped. The way it does before a storm.
"Pretty cold, huh?" Heather's voice rang out, too bright for her own good. You caught a glimpse of the new arrival from the corner of your eyes: a woman in a red velvet dress with white fur trim along the neckline and the hem. Like someone who just returns from a Christmas themed costume party. It's a wonder how she's able to withstand the cold in such a short dress.
You didn't mean to stare but something about her caught you. Maybe it was the way she strides without a hint of jolly christmas spirit - unlike most people this time of the year. Or it's the primal instinct of a male to indulge in the presence of a female. Either way, your eyes were fixed.
She slid into the booth and sat perfectly still, like she belonged here. She must know you had been staring because she returns your gaze with an intensity no less than yours. And you were breathtaken.
There could be two reasons for this. Actually, three.
The other party is monstrously ugly.
The other party is otherworldly beautiful.
You have gotten so drunk that you have started hallucinating.
Considering coffee was the only thing you had had the whole day, the second option is valid for this matter. Her face is angelic in a way angels could never be. From her dark irises to the curve of her chin, everything screams God's favorite. Maybe someone upstairs have decided to brought a blessing to your miserable holiday.
"Ethan Collaway" she said, voice soft but unyielding.
Your heart dropped. You had never met her. You were sure of it.
"Do I know you?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
The woman tilts her head slightly, as if she's amused by your question. "Not yet"
You blinked, trying to make sense of her words. She leaned back in her seat, folding her arms like she's disappointed by your confusion.
"Not yet?" you repeated. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means" she smiled faintly. "that we are about to get very well acquainted. But there's no need to rush. Finish your coffee first"
You glanced down at the cup, now completely cold. "I think I'm done"
She raised an eyebrow, her expression hovering between pity and amusement. "Suit yourself. But you will regret wasting the small comforts later. You always do"
You shifted uneasily at her words. "Okay" you said. "Who are you? How do you know my name?"
"I know more than your name, Ethan" she leans forward now, resting her elbows on the table. Her eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment everything seemed to fade away - the hum of conversation, the clink of dishes, even Heather's festive laughter faded away, leaving only you and her in isolation.
"I know the weigh you carry" she continued, voice impossibly steady. "I know you sit in that apartment of yours, staring at walls that have nothing to say. Trying to fill the void in your heart with alcohol when you know there's only one person who can do the job. And I know you yearn for a second chance. An opportunity to set things right again" she pauses, breathe in. "But it's too late, isn't it? People regrets only when things are broken and can't be repaired. And when you hear laughter, like the kind outside this window" - she gestured towards the frost covered glass - "you tell yourself it's just noise. But deep down, you wonder what it feels like to laugh like that again. To feel loved.
You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. "Listen. I don't know what game you're trying to play but-"
"No games" she interrupted. "Just the truth. And here's another: tonight is the first step. A choice, really. Stay as you are - alone and bitter - or take a chance on something different"
Your laugh came out shriller than you intended, the kind of defensiveness that only comes when someone hits a nerve. "Different? You speak like you're the Ghost of Christmas Past or something"
She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Close. But I prefer Irene"
Before you can respond, the bell above the diner chimed again. You turned instinctively, expecting to see a customer. Instead, the room seemed to shift again, the air growing colder despite the warmth of the heater. When you looked back at the woman, she weren't there anymore.
She was standing beside you now, so close that her voice seemed to pierce right into your ears.
"Pay attention, Ethan" she warned, voice commanding. "The clock is ticking"
And just like that, the lights flickered, and everything went dark.
❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️
The diner completely dissolved into blackness so complete it felt like falling into a void. For a moment, the only sound you could hear is the faint hum of your own pulse, racing so fast as if to catch up with reality.
Then a light appeared - small at first but quickly growing into a warm glow that engulfed everything. You blinked, trying to shield your eyes. But the action is not needed. Because this light didn't sting. It was different - soft and familiar.
When your vision cleared, you found yourself in an apartment. The smell of stale air filled your nose, mixed with the faint, phantom trace of something like jasmine. Or lavender. Something entirely hers.
This was your apartment, unmistakably. But it's a stark contrast to the mess it was now. The walls were bright with fresh paint. Not a trace of cobwebs or dust. The stacks of books were stacked neatly on a table. Everything was so neat. So in order. So her.
"It's funny" the woman, now known as Irene, mused behind you. "How this place had looked habitable. Like an actual home"
Reluctantly, you moved to a familiar spot by the couch - that spot you'd always leave your shoes no matter how much she grumbled about it. You looked up and there it was: The past you and Sakura.
She was standing at the kitchen counter, her hair falling in loose strands around her shoulders, a soft grin on her lips. She wore one of your oversized sweaters, sleeves too long for her hands but she didn't seem to mind it. She was holding a mug of something - probably tea - and she was laughing. At you.
"No, no, Ethan" she was saying in the familiar voice you had missed so much it hit you square in the chest when you heard it again. "You don't just pour the milk first. That's sacrilege. It's tea making 101"
You were standing across from her, arms crossed in mock defiant. "It tastes the same either way. You are just being picky"
She gasped, feigning outrage. "Picky? That's rich coming from a guy who needs his peanut butter spread to the edge on every sandwich"
You grinned then, leaning against the counter. "Details matter"
"And yet, you still don't understand tea", she teased, sipping from her mug. The light in her eyes shone brighter when she smiles - its warmth never failing to pull you in, no matter how bad your day was.
"See how she spoke so softly" Irene said behind the present you. "Even your stubbornness seemed smaller when she spoke"
The scene shifted like a film cutting to the next reel. Now, it was the couch - your couch, where the cushions were sunken just slightly on her sides. She was curled up against you, a book opened in her lap - probably Edgar Allan Poe - that neither of you were reading. Her fingers traced invisible patterns on your forearm, and your head rested lightly against hers.
"I think this is my favorite spot" she muttered, her fingers pausing their journey across your skin.
"Here?" you asked, shifting slightly to look at her.
"Here. There. Anywhere. With you" she answered, her eyes meeting yours like a silent dare for you to argue.
You didn't. Instead, you leaned in, pressing your forehead lightly against hers. A small gesture, but it mattered the world to you.
"Do you ever think about the future" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
You hesitated, your hand brushing her cheek. "The future as in....?"
"As in us" she said, pulling back just enough to search your face. "Where we'll go. What we'll be"
"I think" you answered carefully, slowly. "that whenever we end up, I'll be fine as long as it's with you"
A laugh bubbled out of her, her cheeks tinted rosy with a blush. "That's too smooth. Did you practice that in the mirror?"
"No" you said, smiling despite yourself. "Now I'm glad I didn't screw it up"
She kissed you then - not hurried or desperate, but softly, like she was trying to memorize the shape of your lips against her. It's the kind of kiss that lingered forever long after it ceased.
The memory faded then, just as quickly as it had come. But your mind continued to play out the scene.
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Fragment 1
"Mhmm, babe. Ugh, don't stop" Sakura's slender frame writhed beneath you as your cock entered and re-entered her wet slit in a steady rhythm. The old couch sunk and creak with each thrust you made, adding to the symphony of her beautiful moans. Unlike the soft, tender girl she mostly was, Sakura was vocal at sex - never failing to express her gratitude when your huge cock stretched her out. The neighbors next doors must be accustomed to the sound by now. You doubt these walls are thick enough to silence her pleas not to stop. You couldn't care less. Not now.
"Fuck. You are stretching me out so good. Don't stop babe. Oh My God" Sakura cried out as you gave her a particularly hard thrust, your tip kissing her cunt. And more curses and moans followed as you continued to hammer her cunt relentlessly. "Fuck. Fuck. Don't stop" she begs, her nails digging into your back. "Fuck me harder babe. Stretch my tight pussy with your huge cock"
See. This is what you loved about her. She's an angel, really but when you two got up close and personal, that angel is banished, fallen from grace. Instead, a demon possessed her. The kind that can't get enough of your huge cock stirring up her insides over and over. Always begging for more. Never satisfied. No matter how much you breed her.
Her walls clenched around you, milking your shaft as you took her over and over. You were as desperate as her for this. Because the feeling of her warm wet hole twitching around you was like nothing else. And she would say the same way about how good you filled her up. She already did, actually.
"You are so fucking tight, Sakura" you grunted as Sakura's pussy continued to squeeze you like a vice. "I'm going to ruin this little cunt. You are gonna be so full when I'm done with you"
"Yes, yea. Fuck me harder" Sakura screamed, her perky tits bouncing in your face. Unable to resist the sight, you lean down, putting one of her stiff nipples into your mouth. A jolt resonated through her body as you bite down gently, kneading the soft flesh between your teeth. "Make me your dirty little slut"
Who would think the girl who said nothing but sweet words to you would be begging to be your slut? But it's no longer a surprise, rrally. You have learned enough about Sakura's versatility. Forever your angel. Occasionally your slut.
"Fuck. You are going to make me cum" Sakura cried between each breath you took away with your brutal thrusts. Sweat had accumulated on her skin from the relentless pounding she took, dripping in clear streaks. Her eyes, dilated and hazy, did a better job than her words to speak about the onslaught of pleasure she's under.
Sakura's pussy is no easy hole to stretch but your hips kept bucking, as though driven by a supernatural force. You didn't care about how sore you must be the next morning nor how she wouldn't be able to walk for days after you were done. All you care about was this: the collision between your pelvises each time you make contact . The action itself more romantic to you than any tender gesture. This is connection- you two becoming one.
"i'm cumming. I'm cumming. I'm cummingggg" Sakura repeated the words like a mantra as she creamed on your cock, her back curving gracefully as her legs trembled. The way her walls pulsated around you as her juice gushed out was enough to send you over the edge. Soon, you were following her in the flight of bliss, pumping spurt after spurt of your warm load into her welcoming cunt.
It took a few more slow thrusts before you finally extracted your shaft out of Sakura's now spent hole. Your cum dripped out of her in a white streak as soon as the stuffing is removed. It stained the couch. Just like countless other times.
You studied Sakura's face, which now wore a peaceful, dormant mask. Her chest rised and fell steadily with her breath and her eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. Still, she doesn't fail to give you that warm smile that looked out of place in her current state. "You came a lot" she panted, then "I love you"
You didn't know if it's possible to replace lust with love right after sex but in that moment, you seemed to. "I love you too, Sakura. Always"
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You blinked, coming back to your senses and turned to Irene, your throat tight. "Why are you showing me this?"
Irene's expression was unreadable. "Because she gave you something too good for you. Something you don't know how to hold. And you have been letting it slip through your fingers ever since"
You clenched your fists, the pain in your chest unbearble. "What do you want me to do? Go back? Fix it? It's too late. She's gone"
"Gone" she agreed, her voice soft. "But not forgotten. Maybe that's the problem"
Once again, the world blurred away into a swirl of white and green. When it settled again, you are standing on a path, flanked on both sides by tall, snow-dusted pines. The air was crisp, just the right amount of cold to be cozy. Snow fell steadily, softening the edges around everything - the lmapposts, the branches, the footprints trailing along the path.
And then you saw them.
You and Sakura.
She was walking slightly ahead, bundled in a red scarf and a cream coat that rebelled against the snowflakes. Her breath misted in the air as she turned to you - her younger self - her cheeks pink from the cold.
"Ethan, you are walking like a tortoise" she called, wearing that same warm smile. "It's not that slippery"
"Maybe I just don't want to catch up" younger you replied, voice light though his hands were fidgeting in the coat pockets.
Sakura rolled her eyes but she slowed down just enough to fall into steps beside you. The way she glanced at you then - curious expectant - was so small a gesture but it carried a familiarity that you could feel even now, watching from the sidelines.
"You've been so quiet all night" she nudged him with her elbow. "Something's wrong?"
The younger you hesitated, breath hitching. He stopped walking, snow crunching under his boots as he turned to face her.
"Okay" he answered, exhaling a cloud of white. "I have something to tell you. And it's probably the stupidest thing ever. But please bear with me for a moment....alright?"
Sakura blinked, surprised but her smile didn't falter. "Okay....?" she answered, drawing out each syllable carefully.
He reached into his pockets, pulling out a small, crumpled spring of mistletoe. He held it awkwardly in his hands, trying to keep them from trembling as he offered the mistletoe to Sakura.
"This" he began, swallowing hard. "is how I planned to say this. But I'm gonna do it anyway" You exhaled, meeting her gaze. "I love you, Sakura"
Everything was still for a moment. The world silent except for the steady rhythm of falling snowflakes. Then Sakura's eyes widened, breath hitching.
"Look. I know this is stupid. I totally get it if you don't-"
"No" Skaura interrupted. Then she smiled. She smiled? "You are an idiot"
"What?" the younger you blinked, puzzled.
"You are an idiot" she repeated, her smile growing wider. "You do realize you are supposed to hold that mistletoe above my head, right?"
"So...does it mean-"
He was unable to finish his question because he was instantly silenced by Sakura's lips that muffled his next words. The kiss was gentle at first but it quickly deepened into something fervorous - like their whole lives had been leading up to this moment and they were finally claiming what's rightfully theirs.
Your heart felt like it's being pierced through and through but you didn't tear your gaze away. You can still feel the cold bite of the air, the softness of her lips, the phantom warmth that lingered long after.
"Can't you see what you were destined for?" Irene asked but you can't formulate an answer, your throat tight with emotions. "You gave your heart to her that night. And she returned it with hers. For a while, at least"
You turned away from the scene, your voice thick. "And then I fucked everything up"
Irene didn't reply, only watching as the younger you and Sakura pulled apart, bursting out in laughter.
"You made a promise to her that night" Irene finally said. "One you let yourself forget"
The words lingered in the frozen air as the memory began to blur, snow swirling around you in a sudden, dizzying storm. Soon, everything is enveloped by a torrent of white.
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When your eyes came back into focus, you found yourself back in your apartment. Your breath caught in your throar. It was the old spit again - the couch - but this time, it was alive with a different kind of atmosphere. The heater hummed faintly, filling the silence and the warm light of a bedside lamp illuminated the small, familiar place. It's nothing unfamiliar.
Except that it wasn't Sakura's voice or presence that filled the room.
On the couch, sprawled out with heavy limbs is none other than yourself. The past you. Your shirt was half undone, and a woman who wasn't Sakura lied beside you, her sleek black dress painting an image of a vixen in the dim light. She leaned into you, her lips brushing against your jaw as you tilted your head back, your smile faint but unmistakable.
The present you stepped closer, stomach twisting in horror at the piece of memory you had tried to bury for so long. No. Not this.
"Please..." you begged, already knowing what's about to unfold. "Take me somewhere else"
But Irene stood firm behind you, her gaze unyielding. "This is what you must see"
The woman reached for a glass of wine on the table, tilting it ever so slightly as she swirled it with practiced ease. The way the liquid slosh around was almost hypnotic. "You are so tense" she commented as she runs her palm across your bare chest. "Sakura doesn't take care of you like this, does she?"
The past you flinched, sheathing your smile but you didn't pull away. "It's complicated" you muttered, running a hand through your hair.
"Is it?" the woman replied, her tone sharp. "Or are you too scared to admit I'm better than her?"
She leaned in, so close that her breath tickled your neck. "You just can't get enough of me, can you?" She blew a puff of hot air into your ears, the sensation unexpected but not unwelcomed. "You are never satisfied...."
You glanced at her, putting on a smile to hide your internal conflict. "It's not that simple"
"Isn't it?" she asked, tilting her head so that her hair fell over your shoulder in a pool of midnight silk. "You deserve someone better, Ethan. Someone who knows exactly what you need..."
Your gaze dropped to your laps. "That wouldn't be fair. She's....she's good to me"
The woman's lips curved into sly smile as she set down the glass back on the table. "Good isn't always enough, is it?" her voice dropped to a whisper, words brushing against your ear. "Don't you want more, Ethan? Don't you want me?"
"Don't..." you swallowed hard, resolve wavering as she shifted closer, her legs brushing against yours.
"Tell me" A kiss on your neck, leaving a crimson mark of her lipstick. "Who's better at this?" Another to your jaw. "Riding you. Blowing you. Being your good little....slut?" The last one was a soft brush to your ears that left you drunk in blissful sensations. More. You needed more.
"I can't..." the past you began, voice barely audible.
"Shhh, it's okay" she brought a finger to your lips, silencing you. "It's ok, Ethan. She doesn't have to know"
The present you clenched your fist, gritting your teeth. "Stop this. I fucked up, alright? I don't need to see it again"
"You traded your morals for momentary pleasure. And in doing so, you killed what you had with her"
You looked away, no longer able to comprehend the rewind of your mistakes. You have seen enough. Enough to make you feel like putting a bullet right through your head. But the human's mind worked in mysterious ways. Because it always fails to erase the memories people want to forget the most.
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Fragment 2
Her name was Yunjin. You remembered now. No, that's a lie. You have always remembered. She was a new hire in your company and things started off innocently enough. But to argue, most affairs usually do.
If confidence have a living embodiment, it would be Yunjin. She was sharp angles and quick wit, wearing ambition like a second skin. It's all evident in the way her heels clicked with purpose as she moved through the office.
It all began with a project, one where you and her were on the same team. Despite the endless nights of meetings and paperwork, Yunjin never seemed to falter, always keeping her cool. You admired that about her. And it should have stopped there. Pure innocent admiration.
Her communication skills were no less remarkable. She was easy to talk to, quick to joke, know exactly how to lighten the mood when the pressure becomes too much. Maybe that's what made you finally crumble.
On that fateful evening, you found yourself alone in the conference room after most of the office had emptied out. You were nursing a cup of tea, papers and stationary strewn across the table.
As if on cue, Yunjin entered the moment you lifted the hem of the cup to your lips like she wanted to ensure you couldn't interrupt her greetings.
"You look like you are about to collapse" she commented, leaning back in a chair close to yours with a smirk. She was in her usual office attire - white top and black overcoat paired with a pencil skirt of the same color so that when she crossed her thighs, her pale skin inevitably stood out.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence" you replied, setting the cup back down on the table.
She laughed, a low throaty sound. "Ethan. You are the reason this project just didn't crush and burn, you know?"
You let out an awkward chuckle, caught off guard by the sudden compliment. "It was a team effort"
"Sure" she said, leaning in - her top hanging just loosely enough to reveal a hint of clevage and you swalllow at the sight. It was wrong. But you are only human afterall. "But not everyone could've done what you did"
She inched even more closer and you told yourself that the hand she had come to place on your arm was nothing more than a gesture of companionship. But you couldn't deny the way it made something inside you stir. It's not love. Far from it. But it's equally intoxicating.
You cleared your throat, trying to find your footing. "You are giving me too much credit. It's a team effort"
"Humble, too. I like that" You shivered at the feel of her other hand that had come to rest on your leg. She's doing nothing more than simply placing her smooth palms on the fabric of your trousers. Yet, you can already felt your mamba growing rigid - her touch electric. A few more minutes of this and your boxers wouldn't be able to hide your erection.
You tried to focus on anything else - the clock on the wall, the stack of papers on your desk - but it was impossible to ignore the way she leaned forward, the curve of her collarbone catching the light.
"You know" she said, her tone playful. "You don't give yourself enough credit. You take care of everyone else but who take care of you?"
Sakura. That's who. But at that moment, you are at a lost for words. You tried to say her name out loud but the deep vortex of Yunjin's irises had pulled you in and every rational thought you had had been thrown out of the window.
You didn't know how it happened. When it happened. Everything passed by in a whirlwind of need and lust. The moment you came back to your senses, Yunjin was sprawled out on the long wooden table of the conference room. Everything on it has been shoved down to the floor. By you or her, you couldn't remember. You were looming right above her and you could only wish the table is strong enough to support both of your weights.
Your whole body was bare save for the unbuttoned shirt that hanged loosely on your frame. Yunjin's no different. Her overcoat had been casted away and her top was gone, revealing her perky tits. Your eyes wondered from the bent of her throat, down the planes of of her bare chest, all the way to her toned midriff, finally coming to rest on the nirvana between her legs, barred only by flimsy panties.
You felt your cock throbbing already - a sign of desperateness. All that occupied your mind was how Yunjin would feel around you when you finally penetrated her. She wouldn't fit around you like a glove instantly like Sakura does. But you didn't doubt you can mold this new hole to the shape of your cock. You have all the required qualities.
"Are you just gonna watch?" Yunjin reminded, shifting her body just a tad bit slightly to get comfortable on the hard surface. She didn't need to told you twice, your body is already aching enough for hers.
She let out the faintest of moans when you spread open her thighs, your eyes glinting with a predatory hunger - the kind only Yunjin can satisfy.
"You're mine now" The words of a mad man, fueled by lust. "And I'm gonna fuck you until you can't walk straight"
Yunjin moaned, arching her back as you ground your cock against her clothed pussy. You could already feel the moistness of her juice seeping through the fabric and the dark spot on her panties grew even bigger when you gave your tip a couple of rub on it.
"Words mean nothing" Yunjin replied, crossing her arms behind your neck as you leaned in even closer. "Prove it. Show me how well you can stretch out my tight little pussy"
There, it would have been easy to blame it all on Yunjin, that she was the one who initiated the act and made you think of nothing but about pounding her to oblivion. But that wouldn't be fair because there was still a silver of semblance left in you even then. It's microscopic and easily clouded by lust. But right at that moment you were about to cross the boundary of no return, a tiny voice remined you of her - of Sakura. It told you how much she put her trust in you. How she expected you to do the same thing. That you were betraying her trust by doing what you were going to do next. You should have stopped then. You could have.
But you couldn't.
With a grunt, you tore Yunjin's panties away, baring her dripping cunt to your hungry gaze. There was no time for foreplay. Foreplay is for slow romantic sex, which this isn't.
You slammed your cock into her tight heat with one brutal thrust and her walls opened up willingly. There's no doubt this bitch had taken poundings before. Not a chance she's a virgin with a hole this used. But still, somehow someway, it retained its tightness - so tight it almost seemed natural.
"Fuck you are so tight" you groaned, pulling back and slamming back in, earning a jolt through her body. "I'm going to fuck your brains out. Until your hole become so loose it needs a cock to stuff it shut"
Yunjin screamed, her nails digging into your back as you pounded into her over and over. The table creaked beneath you, threatening to give way under the force of your thrusts.
"Yes, yes! Fuck me harder" she cried, wrapping her legs around your waist. "Ruin me with your big fat cock. Make me forget my own name"
You obliged, slamming into her pussy with wild abandon. The room filled with the sounds of skin against skin and the wet squelch of her cunt as you fucked her hard and fast. But it's not all about the way she's milking your shaft with her walls. It's also the vision - the sight before you. Yunjin can and will get anything she want. There's no doubt. The way she hold herself - so calm and composed is enough to make others drip with envy. But right now, under the onslaught of your beastly thrust that rapidly violated her hole, moaning and groaning words of submission, she is no longer the confident woman. Instead, it's a desperate whore that craved your cock whose pussy is being claimed.
"Fuck. You are probably the biggest cock I have ever take" Yunjin praised, though it's hard to say with her rolled-up eyes. "You are gonna have to exclude me from the meeting tomorrow. I don't think I can -"
Yunjin was instantly silenced as all ten fingers of yours closed around her throat, depriving her of oxygen. But she deserved it. With the way she acted like your cock's the best thing in the world.
"What were you saying?" you asked. Yunjin could only make incoherent sounds as her mouth stayed agape like a fish on land. This wouldn't be painful to her. You know that much. Actually, it will turn on this slut even more.
Sakura could never. You thought. Despite her taste for rough sex, Sakura couldn't go this extreme. One time, you slapped her face in the heat of the moment and that girl actually got all teary.
No. Why were you comparing? Why were you even thinking about her?
"Tell me bitch" You asked again. No answer. Just more ragged breaths. As if to compensate for her silence, Yunjin's walls clenched around you even more, trying to answer with their tightness that she, indeed, was enjoying this. Yunjin stayed true to her words: "Words mean nothing". She's trying to prove herself through action.
Just when you thought Yunjin was going to pass out from the lack of air, her body tensed up as she creamed herself on your cock. The climax was unexpected as she wasn't given any chance to warn you. But you welcomed it gladly with more bucks of your hips as you prolong her bliss as long as possible.
Finally, Yunjin came down from her high and you released your hold on her neck, leaving a faint red mark that told the story of your dominance.
"I'm not done yet. You know that, right?" Your reminder wasn't needed. Yunjin had recovered in seconds, now getting on all fours as she leveled her face with your cock.
"Let me clean you up" she said before diving down on your cock. Soon, you found out her pussy isn't the only hole she can utilize to full potential. The warmth that enveloped your length brought you a different kind of pleasure. You tilt your head back, exhaling as you relish in the feeling of her tongue tracing every inch. How many heads had she given? You have no idea. But anyone could guess the number's easily a double digit if they were in your shoes.
She slurped on the cock like it's the tastiest thing in the world. Maybe it's the taste of her own juice on your shaft. Or maybe, she's just a cock depraved whore. Either way, you got the same treatment.
She didn't take you all the way - keeping half of you in her mouth while her hands stroked what her mouth couldn't reach. And there was no combination more lethal as each pair of stroke and lick send a shockwave through your core that have your toes curling.
"Mhmm" Yunjin licked her lips as she released you from her mouth. She looked up at you with dazed eyes as her hand keeps pumping your cock, spreading her drool from base to shaft. "Look how much you are twitching. You're gonna cum?"
She's wasting her words on a question you both knew the answer to. But you couldn't deny it was extremely hot. Who doesn't like a pretty girl worshipping their cocks?
Your simple nod was enough to let her proceed, as she took you back into the heat of her mouth. This time, she didn't make use of her hands. Instead, she impaled herself on your cock - taking it all the way down her throat. A loud gag escaped as it breached her gag reflex until her nose was pressed against your pelvis.
"Fuck" you cursed. She was bent down all the way in this position, her back curved and ass raised. And you didn't miss the chance to grab a feel of her buttocks, earning a moan that resonated through your mamba. A string of glag glag glag bounced around the room as Yunjin continued to fuck her throat on your cock over and over. A puddle of her drool has formed on the table. You made a mental note to clean it up. There's not much reasonable excuses for a pool of drool.
Sakura could never. There's the thought again. Don't be mistaken. Sakura blows your cock very well. To be honest, she loves it as much as you do. Especially, when you filled her mouth with your cum. But her throat wasn't meant for brutal use like Yunjin's was.
Does it matter? No. Stop thinking about Sakura.
The familiar knot unraveled in your stomach. You could no longer hold back as you pumped spurts after spurts of your thick load down Yunjin's throat. And she took it very welll, keeping your cock stuffed down her throat as she held it there like a good girl.
She finally released your cock with a loud pop, strings of saliva still connecting it to her mouth. "Thanks for the big load" Yunjin said while she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "You really needed that, huh?"
Do you? Now no longer clouded by the mist of lust, doubts started to fill the gaps where the past passion had been. Wrong. This is all wrong. What have you done? How are you gonna face Sakura again?
This is a one time thing. Yes. A mistake made by unmonitored desires. It can't be undone. But it can be stopped. No one have to know. Sakura doesn't have to know. You will forget it over a couple shots. You wouldl be better next time.
But you weren't.
And in the end, you only had yourself to blame.
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You grounded yourself back to reality. No use crying over spilled milk. You have lived with regret your whole life. What use is it to worsen the pain?
You were still in the apartment, though now it was empty, the furniture gone, the walls stripped bare.
Irene stood a few feet away, silent as ever, watching you with that same unflinching gaze.
You staggered back, running a hand through your hair. "You didn't need to show me that" you said. "I know what I did"
Irene tilted her head slightly, a gesture bordering on pity. "Knowing is not the same as understanding" she said, her voice a distant echo.
You shook your head, clenching your fists to the side. "There's nothing to understand. I regret it, ok? Isn't that enough?"
"Is it?" Irene asked, stepping closer. "Or do you regret being caught more than the act itself? Do you regret the pain you caused her or do you regret the pain it left in you?"
Her words hit too close to home and you turned away, staring at the faded imprint of a picture frame that once hung on the wall - a reminder of what this place had once been. You could still hear the echo of Sakura's laughter that had resonated in this room.
"This is what you traded for a moment of weakness" Irene's voice appeared once more. "An emptiness that echoes in your heart, in your life. And you know very well it's your own fault. Yet, you let it spiral"
You swallowed hard, trying to find your next words. With difficulty, you managed to speak through your tight vocal cords. "It doesn't matter" you said, voice trembling. "I can't change it. I can't undo what I did"
"No" Irene agreed. "But you can confront it. You can stop running from the truth, no matter how ugly it is"
You turned back to her, searching for something in her otherworldly features - absolution, maybe, an answer to all of this. But all you found was her cold, unyielding gaze.
"What now?" you asked quietly.
Irene extended a hand, and the apartment faded around you, replaced by the faint flicker of something new.
"Now" she said. "we see the consequences of your actions"
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The world crumbled and rebuilt around you in the form of a late autumn evening. The air was crisp but heavy, carrying the scent of leaves and the distant promise of winter. A stark contrast to the snow-draped beauty of the Christmas night when you first confessed to Sakura.
Now, autumn loomed like an unwelcome guest. The trees lining the path were skeleteal, their branches gnarled and reaching out to the gray sky like twisted hands. The ground was a mess of fallen golden leaves.
Sakura stood across the past you, her arms crossed against the chill, though it was obvious it wasn't the cold that's making her shiver. Her scarf - a pastel pink you had bought her for Christmas long ago - coiled around her neck elegantly.
"Say it" she demanded, her voice trembling. "Say it Ethan"
"Kkura, I-"
"Don't lie to me!" she snapped, her sharp voice cutting through the still autumn evening. The brittle leaves crunched as she shifted her weight. "Just...don't. Please"
She looked at you for a fleeting moment, and for a heartbeat, she resembled the Sakura from that snowy christmas - the one whom you had poured your heart out to, the one who had said 'yes'. But now, the light in her eyes was a gone, replaced by a storm of pain and anger.
"Let me hear it from you" she whispered, her voice on the edge of breaking. "Don't make me piece it together from hints and whispers. Please"
You dropped your gaze, deeming yourself no longer worthy to hold hers. The autumn wind picks up and the leaves swirl as if to mock your silence.
"It was a mistake" you muttered, voice barely audible.
"A mistake?" she repeated, her laugh bitter and wounded. "You don't acidentally cheat on someone Ethan. You don't just trip and fall into someone's bed"
You were once again remined of the pine-lined path, her standing there with snowflakes in her hair, her laughter so carefree like she's the happiest person on earth. Now, that warmth was nothing but lost, extinguished by you.
"It didn't mean anything" you pleaded, voice desperate. "I swear it didn't mean anything ,Kkura"
She shook her head, the motion quick, like she was trying to expel you from her memory. "Do you even understand what you have done? What you have taken from me?"
"I-"
"No. Let me tell you" she interrupted, her tone gaining strength as her eyes glistened. "You have taken every moment I trusted you, every second I thought was safe with you, and you have crushed them Ethan. What did I do wrong? What part of me wasn't enough?"
"Stop" you whispered, voice trembling. "Just stop"
"No" she said firmly, leaves crunching beneath her boots as she steps closer. "You don't get to ask me for anything after this. Not now. Not ever"
You looked at her then, really looked. And the pain in her face tore through your heart like a thousand daggers.
"Sakura, please" you begged, scrambling for scraps. "I regret all of it, ok? I regret everything. Please, I-"
She let out a hollow laugh, one that seemed to make the dying branches overhead shattered. "Funny how regret comes too late"
Sakura took a step back, her shoulders stiff, her hands trembling as she wrapped the scarf tighter around her neck. She hesitated for a moment, before looking at you straight in the eyes.
"Merry Christmas, Ethan" she said coldly, the words laced with brutal finality. "I hope it was worth it"
And then she walked away, her form growing smaller in the dying twilight until she had been reduced to nothing but a distant dream. The rustle of the wind reflected the hollow of your own regret.
The present you watched, unable to cry, unable to make a sound. Because you knew it was your very own actions which have lead to this. Do criminals cry over the unspeakable deeds they have commited?
"There" Irene's voice appeared once more. "Winter held promise. Autumn held loss. And you let it all fall away"
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You didn't even notice the shift in scenery this time - your mind too exhausted with emotions. What Irene wanted to show you, you didn't care anymore. You had seen enough. Seeing more will bring nothing but pain.
But you stared at the new scene before you like a lifeless ghost.
It was your apartment, again. You wanted to burn the place down at this point. Maybe the pain will crumbled to ashes that way. Anything to escape the ever nagging regret.
It was Christmas time - the fist Christmas without Sakura. The scent of her baked cookies and the hum of hers to Last Christmas was nowhere to be found, though the song played on lazily from an unattended television nearby. The sound of traffic beyond the windows seem more melodic.
The you of that very moment? On the bed, tangled in sheets but there's nothign cozy about that. You looked like a corpse, still and unmoving - lost in thought. Your bare body does nothing to aid cancel out the vision.
But you weren't alone. No. Though you actually were, deep down, your physical self weren't. The woman lying next to you is unfamiliar in ways that only someone you're totally ignorant of would be. Her name escaped you, though it had been exchanged over shots at the bar you didn't even like. She was asleep, her bare shoulder peaking out the tangle of sheets.
You searched her face for a few moments, trying to find something firm in those beautiful features but only finding emptiness. You sat up, swinging your numb legs last night had taken a toll on and ran your fingers through your nest of hair. The room smelled faintly of her perfume - too strong for your taste. Nothing like the clean, subtle one Sakura always wore.
Sakura.
You pressed your palms to your face, trying to ground yourself - make peace with reality and escaped the past - but the pain has d rooted deep inside, growing deeper each day. And your worst enemy had become yourself.
"Does it feel better?" Irene asked, studying the confusion flashing across your eyes. "To indulge in the pleasure of the flesh - a momentary escape from reality. But it never fills the void, does it? It only digs it deeper"
You didn't answer. Not because you have no words but because you are too tired. Too tired with yourself.
"Look, Ethan. This is your present. A hollow bed. A hollow life"
Just then, the girl in your bed stirred and shifted and you caught a clear view of her face, though curtained by her silky locks. It's not Yunjin, no. You had parted ways long ago. This one will soon follow the same fate. Your head pounded and so did your heart. There, you are reminded again.
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Fragment 3
The thing about one-night stands is they are supposed to last for a night and then forgotten. But that title wouldn't suit Kazuha because this was the third night you found yourself with this beauty. Maybe, this is a new addiction apart from the countless shots you had downed in the bar. Or maybe, it's the way she sucked your cock so well on your very own bed.
"Mmph...does it...feel...good...." Kazuha asked through slurps and licks as she feasts on your cock - tongue swirling around your slit before poking your tip to the inner wall of her cheeks, making it bulge. Her face there - ruined so perfectly with mascara running down her eyes and drool spilling from her lips only served to earns a grunt from you. Not to mention her bare body, ass raised to show off her thick cheeks.
"Mhmm...I think I'm doing good" Kazuha deciphered the answer herself as she released your cock from her warm hole. "Look at all this precum. You like my pretty mouth on your cock that bad, huh?"
The answer was unnecessary and Kazuha proceed to plant kisses along your throbbing shaft before coming back up to collect the precum from your leaking slit, all the while maintaning eye contact.
"Can't wait to taste your thick load" she muttered dreamily as she swallowed you again. The pleasure that flooded your brain was phenomenal and you had to try not to buck your hips. Kazuha had already demanded to be the one in charge. And you didn't want to left cockblocked.
Kazuha seemed to sense your desperateness because she took more than half of your shaft into her mouth, cheeks hollowing as she sucked the life out of you.
"Kazuha...fuck. Don't stop" you mumbled, your body in absolute bliss. And she didn't plan to. Because she liked choking on your cock as much as you loved fucking her pretty little mouth.
She went deep, lodging your meat into her throat. She held it there, eyes unblinking as she watched your distorted face of a victim of lust. The tightness and the warmth was like nothing, squeezing your shaft in all the right ways. Kazuha was born to be a cocksucker. No doubt.
She finally drew back, gliding her lips up across your meat until it came off with a pop, a string of drool still clinging to your slit.
"Now are you gonna fuck my face or what?" she asked, and that instantly became your favorite question in this hollow life.
"Gladly" you answered as you held her hair in a makeshift pony tail, lowering it gently until your tip has disappeaered into her moist lips. Her eyes gleamed, a silent challenge. And you are not the one to back down from challenege.
You immediately starts dunking her head on your cock again and again and again, obscene gags escaping her throat as your tip speared into her oral hole. A couple strands of her raven locks ame undone, falling and sticking with drool to her face.
"You like it, hmm? You like me using your throat like a fleshlight, you cocksucking bitch" you asked as Kazuha can only respond in more gags and chokes. Her eyes water, the tears mixed with the mascara flowing in tiny rivers across her cheeks - an absolute vision of a slut. Did she wear it on purpose so that it paint her when you fuck her face?
Her throat is brusied by now, no matter how strong of a throat of steel she possesed, no girl came out of this kind of pounding unscathed. But she didn't seem to care because she took it like a champ as you use her mouth like your very own sextoy. Afterall, this is what she asked for.
You let her go for a moment, pulling her face off your cock in one swift pull. She gasped, drool spilling in waterfalls as she huffed like a bitch in heat.
"You really didn't hold back, huh." she asked, voice raw from the brutal thrusts. "I bet you are addicted to my throat. Wouldn't be surprised if you can no longer cum from your hands alone"
"You talked too much for a cock drunk whore" you complimented her as you tighten the grip on her hair, making her scalp burn. "Now, suck me off until I feed you that load you so desperately crave"
"Mhmm, with pleasure" No more words were needed after that as Kazuha dived back down on your cock, devouring it like the cock hungry beast she is. It's messy and sloppy. She no longer choked on your cock but the way she's slobbering all over the upper half of your length was more than enough to make you levitate.
Her hands cockscrewed what her mouth couldn't reach while she bobbed her head up and down as she fucked her face on your cock. If her face was messy then, it was even messier now - a filthy canvas of drool and tears and mascara. The picture of a pretty woman so degraded finally made you break.
Kazuha moaned around your cock as you erupted in her mouth, sending shots after shots of your hot thick load down her throat. And she didn't let up, sucking you through your bliss with undiminishing fervour.
After what felt like an endless ride of bliss, she finally pulled you out of her mouth but not before giving your spent rod a couple licks.
"Didn't I do good, daddy?" she asked, the name sending a shiver down your spine.
But as soon as the bliss is over, the regret came. Sakura. You never knew how much power she held over you. How badly you needed her. Kazuha's blowjob was mind numbing but not enough to numb the ever-growing pain in your heart. But if sex could make you forget it for just a moment, you will gladly took it.
Kazuha wriggled her ass in a suggestive rhythm, oblivious to your inner thoughts. "Daddy, can you fuck my ass next?"
Anything to block out the pain.
Really, anything would be ok.
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You blinked, and suddenly, you were back to the present - the diner. It was still the same place, same scent of coffee and grease lingering in the air but the weight in your heart felt heavier, like it might crush you entirely.
Irene was back in her initia position across you in her booth, studying you with those cold eyes tht betray no feelings.
"You've seen it" she said, shifting in her seat and her christmas-themed dress didn't look so awkward to you anymore. "What you've lost. What you've become"
You tighten your fists on the table. "I know okay? I fucked up really bad. And I'm suffering the consequences. Happy?"
She raised any eyebrow. "Do you? Because knowing is not the same as doing"
You looked away, your gaze landing on the window. The streets were deprived of life now and the snow fell as relentlessly as ever, enveloping the world in white. You wished you could see the beauty in it once more.
"What am I supposed to do?" you asked, your voice low. "I can't just undo everything"
"No" Irene agreed, leaning forward. "But you can decide what you will do next"
Your jaw tightened. "And what am I supposed to do? She's gone. She hates me. There'a no coming back from that"
Irene'a gaze softened just slighty. "Sakura's wounds might not be yours to heal, Ethan. Some damage can't be undone. But your life - your choices - they are all yours. You can keep running from them, hiding youself in regret and pain or you can face them"
Somewhere distant, Heather's hyena laugh erupted again though this time, you envied her. When was the last time you can laugh like that?
"And what does that even look like?" you asked, throat tightened.
Irene gestured to the diner around her. "That's not for me to tell you. But you have already knew the answer, don't you? You always have"
You stared at her, a realization sinking deep into your heart. "You are saying I should go for her"
Irene tilted her head. "I'm saying you need to stop running from yourself. Whether that means going to Sakura or not....it's up to you. But if you don't, you will stay here" She gestured vaguely, encompassing more than just the diner. "A hollowed out version of yourself. Is this what you want?"
You studied your reflection in the murky surface of the cold cup of coffee. You had seemed to age in minutes. Was it the weight of revisiting the memories you had locked up for so long?
"No" you whispered. "This ia not what I want"
Irene leaned back, gaze unwavering. "Then decide, Ethan. You can't rewrite the past, but you can write the next chapter"
For a long moment, you were silent, staring out of the window at the dark, snowy Christmas night.
When you looked up, the ghost was gone.
The diner had grown quiet, save for the ocassional clinking of utensils. The clock indicated 11 sharp. Time had flown in a blink.
Just as you decided to leave, the bell on the dier doll rang again, welcoming a new arrival. You didn't want to look up. Enough hocus pocus for one night. But you did anyway. And you are not sure if you should be glad or regret that you did.
"Sakura?"
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Happy Holdiays Everyone.
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early autumn mornings are a whole vibe. people bundled up in their coats and scarves, walking their dogs or getting their coffee, empty libraries and beautiful colors, my favorite time of the day🤍
#mine#studyblr#study blog#med studyblr#studyinspo#medical studyblr#study aesthetic#med school#studyspo#study#study hard#bookaddict#bookbookbook#booklover#books and reading#book blog#bookworm#studystudystudy#medical study#study notes#study space#med student#study tips#student#study motivation#autumn moodboard#autumn aesthetic#autumn vibes#fall aesthetic#books & libraries
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Stiles sets up a betting board rather early on, figuring it'll be something that might help the betas bond a bit. It started off with a few silly things but the main category quickly became 'what is going to try and kill us next'. The name was changed after Derek expressed concerns over how cavalier Stiles was about dying and instead became 'what is going to put us in danger next'. The rules were simple:
Each of them contributed to a pool.
Each beta was given the opportunity to change their pick after something tried to kill them or once a month (if things were quiet)
Winner got the contents of the pool
If there was no clear winner or if there was more than one and they didn't want to split it, pack could make an argument for why their pick was the closest.
Scott put down 'Peter betraying the pack'
Peter in retaliation put down 'Argents being Argents'
Both refused to change it.
Stiles put down 'Dereks love life'
Erica put down 'Stiles losing his mind in a haze of caffeine after too many sleepless nights researching'. Boyd silently added his name against that pick as well.
The problem was Stiles seemed to always get it right. No matter what he wrote down each time, it usually happened in some way.
Derek's love life - a barista he'd been tentatively flirting with at the coffee shop turned out to be a succubus
Extreme cold (mocked by the others for being written down in the middle of a heatwave)- an abominable snowman popped up and set off a cold spell that even werewolf heat and Isaac's scarves couldn't ward off
Scott's cooking - After breaking some of Melissa's kitchenware while trying to make a romantic meal for Allison (the exact details of how remain a mystery, although Isaac was involved) and replacing it with a new set from a cute little shop that seemingly popped up out of nowhere, the pack quickly found out that there was a poltergeist attached.
The only time he didn't put anything down, was when he got possessed. And Peter argued that he technically still got it right since the only thing in his section was his name... Which was accurate in its own way (Stiles was not pleased by this logic and refused to talk to anyone for a long time)
He began to get gradually weirder and weirder with his picks, not even really trying to win after a while. He was a little confused and concerned by his strange predictions and hoped that eventually it would get too absurd to possibly come true.
Musical theatre - a siren showed up and almost lured Isaac into the swimming pool with her voice.
Killer Tomatoes - Lydia ended up nearly choking on her salad
Hummus - Jackson managed to ingest poisoned hummus and became practically feral.
Puppies - Stiles woke up one day to a very stressed Derek with an armful of his now tiny canine betas. Stiles didn't mind that one so much.
#teen wolf#peter hale#hale pack#derek hale#isaac lahey#scott mccall#stiles stilinski#erica reyes#vernon boyd#lydia martin#jackson whittemore
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