#talk about serendipity
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handsmotif · 6 months ago
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[ID: pictures of jeremy king in Our Life: Beginnings and Always and XOXO Droplets, respectively /end ID]
LIKE this if you think the girl on the right is just as beautiful as the girl on the left 🫶
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championsofthegate · 4 months ago
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//So I've been thinking about this for a while and I'm probably not going to accept anymore Gale ships for the time being just because boy has a lot of ships lol and I get it we all love Gale and he is super easy to ship with but I just want to concentrate on the ones I have for now <3
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cierv-o-robot-o · 2 years ago
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Funny story about a character I made recently 
I made them for a story I was writting so I started with their background and personality first but took a bit longer to figure out what they would look like, I ended up basing their look on this person I saw on pinterest, I never researched that person any further I was just like “oh I like your face *scribbles*” 
ok so I have what they look like, but I don’t have a name yet and for me there are only two ways of picking names 1- ungodly amount of research on the origins and meaning of names so that they match the character and their place in the narraitve or 2- I heard it somewhere and I liked it. in this case it was the second one, I heard the name in a podcast when the two hosts where talking about a friend of theirs and I decided to steal their name and that was it! my fictional little guy was complete! 
now, completely unrelated but I discovered this band a few months ago, their songs made their way into several of my playlists, I like them a lot but like many of the music I listen to I knew nothing about the people behind it, I didn’t knew who they were or what they looked like
so imagine my surprise when, several weeks later, I realize thanks to someone’s instagram story, that the person I saw on Pinterest was the friend the two podcasts host were talking about AND also the singer of that new band I had been listening to so much 
so I accidentally made an oc that’s just, some guy that actually exists irl 
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chunkymonkeycupcake · 2 months ago
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coffeecakecafe · 1 year ago
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I have at long last,, updated all of my character descriptions on art fight. Except Tristan but hers is like still fine sdflkjsd
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gideonisms · 2 years ago
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what’s it like reading homestuck just because of the locked tomb… totally not because i’m also considering it 🫣
Well, as someone who understands the plot of harrow the ninth and is also listening to a podcast to help me understand the plot of homestuck, I still don't understand the plot of homestuck. Fortunately this doesn't matter because the point seems to be making various characters meet up and say things to each other. Overall, my main opinion is I would like to feed karkat a carrot. his little teeth are adorable and I want to watch him chomp and bite
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gracelandmp3 · 2 years ago
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i love that the locked tomb girlies make so many posts about all the different intertexts muir is working with EXCEPT for homestuck . looking AWAY from the deep and profound gamzee influence on the text
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solarwynd · 11 months ago
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This still interests me a lot because he said something similar along the lines of him believing that like crazy would be more favored over smf2 in the DOC because it was pop/more mainstream. Even though he might not necessarily be referring to music in the screenshot still so happy jimin goes with his gut and what he likes instead of tailor making things to take they easy route out.
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seokjinsonlyone · 1 year ago
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sometimes i think about the fact that writing trivia love was light work for joon like he nonchalantly cranked that out in thirty minutes in a parking lot
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chryblossomjjk · 2 years ago
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want to make a fantasy au inspired by serendipity but hm
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andyridgeley · 1 year ago
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me when john cusack uses astronomy knowledge as a pickup line
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seospicybin · 2 months ago
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NATIONAL ANTHEM.
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Seungmin x reader. (s,a)
Synopsis: At first, you knew Seungmin as the guy you made out with on a flight home but once the plane landed, you discovered that he's the son of your father's rival candidate for the upcoming election, causing you to be caught between love and loyalty. (13,6k words)
Author's note: Happy birthday to the agent of chaos, Seungmin ☆
Some people might call it fate, serendipity, or kismet, but you're not the type to believe in romantic clichés like that, so let's just call it a coincidence.
It's merely a coincidence that the car got a flat tire on the way to the airport, causing you to miss the flight you were supposed to be on. Otherwise, you would have been sitting in seat 4B on a completely different plane next to a completely different passenger in seat 4A.
As you make your way to your seat, you notice him immediately. A young man sitting in the window seat next to yours, he possesses a rare, gentlemanly beauty. With refined features, a charming smile, and tousled dark hair, he exudes a sophisticated appeal. In other words, he’s the kind of guy who instantly catches your eye.
He glances up as you stow your bag in the overhead compartment, offering a polite nod. You take your seat next to him, trying to keep your cool even though your heart skips a beat.
There’s something about him that draws you in, something magnetic—a quiet confidence that doesn’t need to be loud or showy to be felt.
After you settle in and the plane takes off, you feel the urge to talk to him. You're usually not the type to strike up conversations with strangers, but for some reason, with him, you can't help it. Also, you realize that if you want something to happen, you have to start somewhere.
“Is this your first time flying out of here?” you ask, turning to him with a smile.
He looks at you, his lips curving into a small smile. “No, I’ve been here before, but it’s been a while," he answers, his voice smooth and calm, making something flutter in your chest.
You introduce yourself to break the ice and make interacting easier.
"Seungmin," he says, taking your hand and holding it for a moment as he introduces himself. "Traveling alone?"
"Yes," you answer innocently.
"Business or pleasure?" he asks, a playful glint in his warm brown eyes.
You stare into his eyes and faintly bite your lower lip before answering, "Hopefully, pleasure."
From there, the conversation flows effortlessly. You talk about everything—from favorite travel destinations to the books you're reading. Something about Seungmin makes it feel so natural, and before you know it, two hours have passed in the blink of an eye.
“I can’t believe we’ve been talking for hours,” you say with a low laugh, glancing out the window at the darkened sky.
The Atlantic stretches endlessly below, and the flight attendants have dimmed the cabin lights, casting a soft, intimate glow over the rows of seats.
“Time flies when the company’s good,” he says, his eyes lingering on you in a way that makes your heart race.
The space between you feels charged now, the conversation slowing as the connection deepens into something more. You can feel the pull—the undeniable attraction that’s been simmering since you sat down. Then you catch him glancing at your lips, and you know he feels it too.
Daringly, you lean in slightly, testing the waters, and he responds by shifting closer. The air between you is electric, and when his hand brushes yours, a spark shoots through you.
Both of you hesitate for a moment, caught in that intoxicating space where everything hangs in the balance until neither of you can resist any longer.
Your lips meet in a soft, tentative kiss, and the world outside the window seems to fall away. His kiss is gentle at first, cautious, testing, but when you respond, he takes it as permission to deepen it. He rests his hand on your cheek, and warmth spreads through you as his lips move against yours in a slow, intoxicating rhythm, making you forget you’re on a plane surrounded by strangers.
For those few moments, it's just you and him, lost in each other, the quiet hum of the plane fading into the background.
When you finally pull apart, breathless and dazed, you exchange a look that says everything. This isn't just some fleeting attraction. There’s something real here, something undeniable.
However, once the plane touches down and the cabin lights flicker back to life, reality begins to creep in. It's the altitude, the change in air, and the fact that you now have both feet on the ground. The intimacy of your shared moments with Seungmin starts to fade as you both prepare to disembark.
Everyone stands from their seats to gather their things, and you can feel Seungmin watching as you reach for your bag in the overhead compartment.
"So…" Seungmin begins as you both shuffle out of the row and into the aisle. "Can I get your number? Or at least, a last name?"
Your heart is still fluttering from the kiss you shared just hours ago, but you hesitate. There’s an inexplicable tug in your gut telling you not to give in so easily, to be cautious. You like him—really like him—but you're not going to make it that easy.
You flash him a playful smile. “Hmm... I’m not sure I should make it that easy for you,” you tease, shifting your bag onto your shoulder.
Seungmin raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a half-smile. “You’re going to make me work for it?”
You nonchalantly shrug, trying to keep things light despite your racing heart. “Let’s just say I like a challenge.”
As you walk together through the terminal, the chemistry between you still crackling, you step outside and notice a car waiting at the curb. The driver, standing beside it, is holding a sign with Seungmin’s name. At first, nothing seems out of the ordinary, until you notice his jacket. The driver is wearing a dark blazer, but pinned to it is a familiar emblem—the logo of a political campaign.
Not just any campaign. It's your father’s rival’s campaign.
Your smile falters as you look more closely, and your heart drops when something clicks. You turn to Seungmin, your mind racing.
“Is that your driver?” your voice comes out sharper than you intended.
Seungmin follows your gaze, looking a bit confused. “Yeah. Why?”
Your throat suddenly feels dry. You clear it before asking the big question. “Are you from the Kim family? The same Kim family running for governor?”
"Yes," Seungmin answers, clearly puzzled.
The Kim family. The Kim family. Your father’s bitter rival in the upcoming election. This isn’t just some random guy you met on a plane—he's the son of the man your father has been railing against for weeks. You feel the blood drain from your face as the realization crashes down.
Seungmin’s expression shifts from confusion to concern. “What’s wrong?”
You unconsciously take a step back. "You’re... you’re a Kim," you say, still in disbelief.
Seungmin opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. "Your father and mine—they’re both running for governor."
For a moment, Seungmin seems to be processing what you’ve said. Then his face hardens slightly in understanding. You take another step back, the weight of everything pressing down on you.
“This changes everything,” you whisper.
He looks at you, his eyes searching. “No, it doesn’t have to," he says.
If only he knew how badly you wanted to believe him. But you can’t ignore the reality of the situation. Both of your families are in a brutal political war, and no matter how much you like him, getting involved with Seungmin could blow everything up—for both of you.
"How is it not? Your father accused mine of siphoning money from the city’s budget for his campaign."
"Because he did!" Seungmin says boldly.
"There’s no concrete proof!" you counter.
"Of course, because they know how to make things disappear. Your family is known for their generosity with hush money," he remarks bluntly.
You’ve never been one to argue about things that aren’t your business, but when it comes to your family, you naturally defend them.
"As opposed to your father’s blatant hypocrisy," you calmly reply. "He’s fighting the climate crisis, but his wife keeps taking private jets for her shopping trips."
You come up with a concrete data point. "According to the data, those trips contributed 58 metric tons of carbon—the same amount emitted by 4,625 cars in a day."
That seems to shut him up. His jaw clenches, and it's unfair how good he looks when he's mad.
The driver awkwardly clears his throat, glancing between you both. “Sir, we should get going. Your father’s waiting.”
"It was good to see you," Seungmin says before storming off, childishly bumping your shoulder as he passes.
"Goodbye, I guess," you mutter, scoffing in disbelief as you watch him walk away.
That concludes everything, officially making it an unpleasant coincidence.
-
It was just a coincidence!
That's what Seungmin has been telling himself after spending days wrestling with his feelings, convincing himself that it doesn’t matter, that you are just a fleeting moment, a passing fancy. But the truth is undeniable: no matter how much he tries to push you out of his mind, he just can’t stop thinking about you.
When his friend mentioned that you’re living separately from your family, something shifted inside him. The tension between your families has always been an obstacle, a reason to stay away, but now it seems more like an excuse. If anything, the fact that you aren’t on good terms with your family only deepens his curiosity—and somehow, his feelings.
Seungmin hadn’t planned to find your hotel room, but once he knew where you were staying, he couldn’t help himself. And now, as he stands there, waiting for you to open the door, his heart races in anticipation despite the cool facade he tries to maintain.
After a moment, the door creaks open, and there you are—your hair slightly tousled, your expression showing slight shock to see him there. His heart leaps at the sight of you, but instead of the warmth or excitement he hoped to see, your face remains cold, indifferent.
“Are you stalking me?” your voice is cool, a little too casual, as if you haven’t been thinking about him at all.
There's no going back now, so Seungmin pushes forward. "Well, you're not that hard to track."
You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms in front of you defensively. “You shouldn’t be here,” you say flatly.
Seungmin notices the flicker in your eyes, something you’re trying to hide. He takes a small step closer, his gaze softening, and playfully says, “Maybe."
You stare at him for a moment, your expression hard, but he sees the hesitation in the way your fingers grip the edge of the door. You’re fighting something, trying to keep a wall between the two of you. He understands why you keep your guard up so high—you’re trying to protect yourself, your heart, and maybe even protect him from the mess that is your life right now.
“You shouldn’t be... with me,” you make it even clearer, but even as you say the words, your voice wavers.
Seungmin takes another step forward, placing his hand near where yours rests. “Let me in, and we'll find out."
Your eyes soften for a brief moment before you quickly look away, the conflict clear in your expression. It’s obvious that you want to shut the door, to push him away, but something is holding you back. Maybe it's the same thing that brought him here in the first place—the connection, the spark between you that refuses to be ignored.
The conflict in your eyes only encourages Seungmin. He leans against the doorframe, his eyes never leaving yours. "Why are you staying in a hotel anyway?" he asks, his voice casual but tinged with curiosity.
You remain aloof, folding your arms across your chest as you raise an eyebrow. “Why should I let my enemy know?"
The coldness in your tone is deliberate, a shield to guard against him, against what you’re really feeling. But he doesn’t back down; his smirk only grows wider.
His hand inches closer to yours as he leans in just a bit closer, making his presence suddenly more overwhelming.
“See, that’s the thing..." his voice drops lower, with a teasing edge.
“What?” you ask, trying to keep your cool even though the proximity makes your heart race.
“We’re enemies,” he states the obvious, his gaze locking onto yours with such intensity that it sends a shiver down your spine.
You let out a sigh, already prepared for whatever line he’s about to throw at you. “And what’s your point?”
Seungmin’s smirk deepens as he leans in even closer, his face now mere inches away from yours. His voice is low and soft, almost a whisper, but filled with mischief.
“Sleeping with the enemy is hot.”
Your breath hitches slightly, but you keep your expression in check, refusing to let him see just how much his words affect you. You tilt your head a little to the side, raising an eyebrow, but the corner of your mouth betrays you with the slightest hint of a smile.
“Is that so?” you respond with a daring smirk.
Seungmin lets out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering with something dangerous and alluring, like he knows exactly how this game is going to end.
As you stand there weighing your options, the tension between you and him becomes unbearable. You can feel the electricity crackling in the air, and despite everything, you find yourself taking a step back, opening the door wider without saying a word.
Seungmin’s triumphant smile tells you that he understands your silent invitation. Without wasting another second, he steps inside, the door closing softly behind him as the world outside fades away.
Before you can even catch your breath, he’s on you—his lips crash against yours with a force that makes you dizzy. The kiss is urgent, an explosion of passion and frustration that has been building between you and him for so long.
His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer as if the mere touch of your skin isn’t enough to satisfy the hunger between you.
All the walls you’ve built, all the reasons you shouldn’t be doing this, crumble in an instant. It doesn’t matter that he’s your enemy. Right now, all that matters is the way his lips brush against yours, the way his breath mingles with yours, the way your hearts seem to beat in sync.
In that moment, nothing else exists but the two of you.
-
Doing it on the bed is overrated to Seungmin, so he grabs you by the waist and swiftly hoists you up, setting you on the nearest table. Fortunately, it's sturdy and at the perfect height for whatever he's planning next.
He plants his hands on the table behind you and aligns his body with yours, fitting just right—hardness to softness, curves to hollows. Oh, he has so many ideas of what to do with you. On second thought, he's fine with paying the fine for property damage if it comes to that.
He leans in slowly, teasing your lips for a kiss, but just a millimeter away from contact, he moves to the side and whispers softly into your ear, "Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this moment?"
You look up at him, eyes wide and seductive, a grin peeking at the corner of your mouth. "I don’t want to know. I want you to show me."
Something flickers in his eyes—something that both scares and thrills you. He places a hand on your waist and glides it up your side, stopping at your ribcage.
"What is it about you..." His words trail off as he places a deep, slow kiss on your lips.
As he keeps your mouth busy, his hand palms your breast through your nightdress. When he pinches your hardening nipple, you gasp at the jolt of sensation.
To return the favor, you slide your fingers beneath his shirt, feeling the hard ridges of his stomach. He's soft yet firm, and if it weren't for the warmth under your fingertips, you’d think he was carved from marble.
"I just can’t stop thinking about you and our kiss," he says, a mix of wonder and disbelief in his voice, before capturing your lips again in a hungry kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.
Seungmin’s thumb rubs your nipple just right, making your insides melt.
"Look at you, getting weak in the knees for me," he says with a triumphant grin.
He pulls his hand from the table and gives it a new task, sliding under your dress to grip your inner thigh, pulling your hips against his arousal, letting you feel the heat of his desire.
"And what we could have done after that kiss..." he continues, your lips meeting again in a breathless kiss.
Seungmin breaks the kiss to move his lips elsewhere—your neck, your chest. His hand roughly pulls down the front of your nightdress, sending your breasts spilling out. He wastes no time, his lips closing over your skin.
Your hand flies to his hair, tugging as he sucks hard on your breast. You watch as his tongue swirls around your nipple before he fills his mouth with your flesh.
"Seungmin..." you call breathlessly, unsure whether you want him to stop or keep going.
Hearing his name roll off your lips soothes something deep inside him, and he wants to hear it again and again. He pushes the hem of your nightdress up around your waist, and in return, you rip open the fly of his jeans, freeing his swollen member.
"Mmh..." you hum with delight, wrapping your hand around his length, hot and pulsing with desire.
Seungmin mirrors your action, palming your clothed core, his thumb tracing your engorged bundle of nerves. Soon, your underwear is damp with arousal.
"What is it about you, mmh?" he asks, eyes locked on yours.
He pulls your panties aside and runs his long fingers down your folds, drenching them in your essence. As his fingers drag down, he pushes them inside you, earning a broken moan from your lips.
"What is it about you that makes me want more..." He keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, savoring the way your face contorts in pleasure. "And more, and more..."
As he continues, you fist the front of his shirt, pulling him close, your legs opening wider, bringing his cock even closer to where you want him.
He withdraws his fingers, replacing them with his cock. Your legs are raised slightly higher than the table’s surface, aching for more than just the feeling of his tip rubbing between your folds.
"Stop teasing me," you mutter.
His lopsided grin returns, and before you can react, he thrusts into you hard and fast, burying himself completely inside you.
Your breath hitches, and you moan his name, which he finds incredibly hot. He strokes his tongue over every inch of your mouth, claiming it as he angles his hips to hit your clit.
The tight grip of your body, your sweet mouth, your legs wrapped around him—perfection. He indulges in every part of you. His heart races, his need grows desperate, but he holds back, determined to wait for your high to come first.
When you finally shatter and convulse around him uncontrollably, he allows himself to thrust harder. He grasps your hips, your thighs, pressing your foreheads together so he can look into your beautiful, dazed eyes as he thrusts one last time, losing himself completely as he pours everything into you. As his breath saws in and out, he holds you tight, with no intention of letting go.
The theory is proven: sleeping with the enemy is hot.
-
It’s Seungmin’s third time staying over in your hotel room this week alone, and no, you're not complaining at all. You've already grown accustomed to him—Seungmin is part of your routine now, part of your life, and his absence leaves you feeling restless.
When you're not with him, you recall what he’s done to you: the way he kissed you, caressed you, all the things he's said. Your hand unconsciously flies down to your thigh, wishing he was touching you right now.
But don’t get it wrong—the non-bedroom side of Seungmin appeals to you just as much as the lover side, if not more. He makes you laugh, and he listens to you, even when what you talk about isn’t particularly interesting. He’s comfortable around you, and that makes you comfortable around him. You like how he fills the empty space in the bed, and you also like just lying with him in a comfortable silence that doesn’t beg for questions.
However, tonight is an exception.
As you lie on the bed with Seungmin, still recovering from the passionate lovemaking you shared earlier, you feel the weight of reality slowly creeping back in. The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable, but it feels heavy, as if there are things that need to be said.
You roll over slightly to face him and place your hand on his arm, fingers gently tracing the veins coiling down his inner arm. “I need to tell you something,” you murmur.
Seungmin turns his head to look at you, his gaze soft but curious. “What is it?”
You inhale deeply as you gather your thoughts, looking into his eyes as you begin with the one thing you're sure of.
“I really like you, Seungmin.”
“I know,” he says confidently, one corner of his mouth curling into a half-smirk.
You bring your hand up to cup his chin, gently scratching his jaw with your fingertips as you flash him a soft smile and continue speaking.
“What you don’t know is that my family isn’t speaking to me right now, and that’s something I’d like to change.”
“I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” he says earnestly, softly caressing your cheek.
“My family used to control me—I’m sure you know what that’s like. I rebelled, took off, and a year into it, I found out my younger sister was going through something, and I wasn’t there for her because I was trying to prove some... stupid point,” you explain with a dry chuckle.
His gaze remains steady as he listens to you without interrupting.
“I’m just trying to find my way back in, and I happened to bump into you along the way.”
“And I’m glad you did,” he says, catching your other hand in his and resting it on his chest.
You hold his chin, wanting all of his attention focused on you, because what you're about to say is the most important part of this conversation.
“Being seen with you would send the wrong message, and I really can’t risk making my family more upset right now.”
Seungmin’s eyes soften, and without the slightest hesitation, he nods in agreement. “I understand,” he says calmly.
“Don’t worry, I’m pretty good at secret relationships,” he adds with a playful smirk. “And all the sneaking around... it’s kind of thrilling. I find it really hot.”
You let out a soft laugh, suddenly feeling at ease. “Of course you do.”
Seungmin pulls you closer, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face before placing a chaste kiss on your lips.
“We’ll keep it a secret, but I want you to know that it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
As Seungmin presses a tender kiss to your forehead, you feel the warmth and reassurance sinking in. For now, the secret doesn’t feel like a burden—it feels like a shared world that belongs only to the two of you.
-
In under a month, Seungmin has learned a lot about you.
In bed, you respond best when he goes slowly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. But if he wants something more intense—or anything, for that matter—you’re game and eager to please. He couldn’t ask for a better partner.
Out of bed, you live by routine. You get up at the same time every day, then shower away the evidence of morning sex (because Seungmin loves starting the day off right). Your breakfast usually consists of a cup of black coffee and French toast. You share a kiss before parting ways; you get picked up at the hotel entrance while Seungmin makes his exit through the hotel kitchen.
During the day, you help your father with his campaign at the headquarters, returning to your hotel room around 8 or 9 when you have dinner with your family.
As for your evenings, they belong to Seungmin. When you’re not fooling around like hormonal teenagers, you spend time having late-night snacks, talking about random things, or just cuddling in bed—things Seungmin has never experienced with anyone before.
Day by day, he wants more of you, not less.
Tonight, you both decide to watch something on pay-per-view. You rest your head on his shoulder while your eyes are fixed on the large screen mounted on the wall. From time to time, Seungmin kisses you, and it feels so good having you near, as if he were made to be your lover.
Occasionally, you react to certain scenes in the film, your bare legs shifting beneath the hem of your nightdress.
“Are you wearing underwear?” he jokes into your ear.
You part your legs, giving him the opportunity to find out for himself. It’s funny that he only realizes now—you’ve never turned him down; you’re just as starved for him as he is for you.
Seungmin pouts when his fingers meet silky fabric instead of your tender flesh, but that doesn’t stop him from continuing to touch you. You gasp as he massages your clothed clit, and your head lolls on his shoulder.
It doesn’t take long before you’re wet, your essence coating his fingertips as he traces your folds. His cock aches inside the confines of his jeans, as if it’s been weeks since he last had sex, not just hours. He wants you again—craves that closeness, that connection, that unbelievable, mind-blowing pleasure. No amount of you is ever enough for him.
Before long, you give in and pull him down for a hungry kiss, which leads to another, and another, and another...
The next thing he knows, the credits are rolling on the TV screen—the whole film played while the two of you were busy with other things. At the end of the night, you climb into bed and nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck, wrapping your warmth around his body.
Seungmin brushes a stray hair from your face, his fingertips trailing over the smooth curve of your lips before placing a gentle kiss, tender and possessive.
“Goodnight,” he mutters when he breaks the kiss.
The next morning, he finds you wearing his shirt—the one from the very first night you spent together. He doesn’t know how to describe how he feels seeing you in his clothes, knowing you kept his shirt and have been wearing it; all he knows is it’s a good feeling.
Truthfully, he’s been feeling like this a lot lately—whenever you smile, ask for a kiss, or cross the room just to be near him. But also when the two of you aren’t together. He has spent the past few weeks in a euphoric high, grinning for no other reason than thinking of you.
There’s no doubt about it—Seungmin is stupid in love.
-
The fundraiser party is in full swing, the lights casting a warm, polished glow over the room as it's buzzing with conversations and the clinking of glasses. You stand beside your father, perfectly poised, playing the part of the dutiful daughter.
This night isn’t about you—it’s about him. Every charming smile, every polite nod you give is an extension of the image he wants to project: a perfect family, a perfect father. But you know the truth.
As you watch your father work the room, shaking hands and making connections, you know your role is to boost his image—not because he cares about you, but because you are part of his political strategy. Still, this is your chance to prove yourself, to show him you can be the daughter he wants, even if the real connection is long gone.
Then, out of the corner of your eye, you see Seungmin and his brother-in-law approaching. Your heart skips a beat, but you hurriedly calm yourself down, knowing this isn’t the time for emotions—it’s the time for control.
Seungmin and his brother-in-law stop in front of you and your father. Seungmin’s gaze briefly meets yours for a second, and despite the public setting, the intensity of that look sends a small thrill through you.
“Good evening,” Seungmin’s brother-in-law says politely and formally. “We’re here representing our father tonight, and he sends his regards.”
Your father, ever the politician, gives a thin, practiced smile. “Ah, yes, it’s unfortunate he couldn’t attend himself. I suppose running a campaign must keep him quite busy.”
There’s a subtle edge to his words, a slight sneer that isn’t lost on you or anyone, but fortunately, Seungmin and his brother-in-law remain composed, not rising to the bait.
“Of course,” Seungmin replies calmly. “He’s doing everything he can for the campaign.”
Your father’s gaze shifts to Seungmin, sizing him up before his eyes narrow in curiosity. "Seungmin, isn’t it? I’ve heard good things about you. You’ve been quite the asset to your father’s campaign, haven’t you?”
“Oh, please. I’m just doing the best I can to help,” Seungmin humbly replies, perfectly nailing the model son role.
“It’s refreshing to see someone so dedicated to their family’s success. We could all learn from that, couldn’t we?” your father says, glancing at you, making it clear that his praise for Seungmin is a thinly veiled comparison.
You keep your composure, your smile unwavering, even as a knot of discomfort forms in your stomach. You entertain yourself with the thought that your father has no idea what is really going on—that the very man he is praising is the one you are secretly seeing. The joke is on him.
“Have you met my daughter?" your father asks, gesturing toward you as if you haven’t been standing there the whole time.
Seungmin turns to you, his expression steady, but his eyes flicker with something only you can recognize. He holds out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise,” you reply, keeping your smile polite. You have to continue acting as if nothing has ever happened between you and him.
Hours pass as you mingle with other guests, but the pressure of keeping up appearances starts to weigh on you. Toward the end of the party, when most of the guests are distracted, you slip away, catching Seungmin’s eye as you do. He follows discreetly, and soon you find yourselves in an isolated part of the building, the muffled sounds of the party still audible.
The moment he comes into sight, you let out a sigh of relief, allowing yourself to drop the mask you’ve worn all night.
"I missed you," he whispers as he steps closer. Before you can respond, he presses his lips to yours, the kiss filled with longing and the tension that has been building up since your last secret meeting.
"I missed you too," you murmur between kisses.
In the dimly lit, secluded hallway, you and Seungmin find a rare moment of peace. His hands cup your face, his lips moving urgently against yours, pouring all the longing and frustration of the past few days into every kiss.
It is reckless, but being with him feels too good to resist. In fact, it feels so good that you almost forget the dark shadow that has been hanging over your mind. Almost.
"My mom found out about us," you blurt out after breaking the kiss.
Seungmin freezes, his lips barely an inch from yours, his brows furrowing as he processes what you’ve just said. "Wait... what?"
“I guess we didn’t fool the doorman,” you say with a heavy sigh as the gravity of the situation sinks in.
For a moment, Seungmin just stands there, panic rising in his chest. If your mom knows, it won’t be long before both of your families find out, and he knows exactly what that would mean for both of you—and for his father’s campaign.
“So... you told her the truth?” he asks, focusing on the possibility that your mom might indirectly support this relationship.
“Obviously, I didn’t want to risk everything with my family for some fling that wasn’t going to last,” you reply meekly.
Seungmin blinks, then his lips curl into a teasing smile. "Oh, so it isn’t just some fling?”
“Seungmin, I’m serious!" you whine in frustration, giving him a playful slap on the chest.
"You can’t keep sneaking into the hotel anymore. It’s too risky, and if my father finds out...” You can’t even finish your sentence without feeling sick to your stomach.
Seungmin’s smile fades as he realizes the danger you are both in. It feels as if the walls are closing in on both sides, and it won’t be long before someone else notices the two of you together. His mind races, trying to think of a solution, somewhere you can be together without the prying eyes of your families.
Just as he opens his mouth to say something, a voice interrupts, and both of you stiffen.
“Seungmin?”
His brother-in-law is standing a few feet away, his eyes narrowing as he glances between the two of you, catching sight of Seungmin’s hand still holding yours.
None of you speak, and in that moment, it feels like the quiet before a storm about to break.
-
Seungmin’s brother-in-law has always been sharp, and tonight is no exception. As you and Seungmin slipped out of the party, thinking you were being discreet, he spotted the two of you. From the moment you met, he sensed something was already there. He observed further, noticing the sneaky glances, the looks that said more than words, and the way you interacted with each other. He must admit, both of you are poor actors.
When his brother-in-law corners the two of you in the hallway, Seungmin braces himself, expecting him to spill everything to his father immediately, knowing what he could gain from it.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Seungmin asks, suspicion creeping in. He knows his brother-in-law has always been loyal to the family, especially to his father, so this calm, nonchalant reaction doesn’t add up.
Instead, his brother-in-law glances between you both with a knowing smile and says, "You two are playing a dangerous game, but you know what? I won’t stand in your way."
That doesn't make Seungmin relax. If anything, the words make him more cautious. "And why’s that? Why are you suddenly on my side?”
“Seungmin, I already think of you like my own brother,” his brother-in-law replies simply, with enough sincerity to convince anyone who hears him. “I want you to be happy."
Seungmin remains quiet for a moment, still wary, but realizing he has little choice. Whatever his brother-in-law’s motives are, this is the only lifeline he has right now.
“So, what’s the plan?” Seungmin finally asks, keeping his voice steady.
“I have a boat. It’s docked not far from here. No one checks it, no one comes by." His brother-in-law reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a small set of keys, handing them to Seungmin. "You two can stay there, alone, as long as you need."
Seungmin’s gaze flicks from the keys to his brother-in-law’s face, still unsure if he can fully trust him. But this is the best option you both have right now. He decides to take a leap of faith and takes the keys from him.
"It's docked on the west side, slip twenty-three," his brother-in-law informs him. Before Seungmin can say anything else, he adds, “Oh, you may want to check the first aid kit on the boat.”
Seungmin’s eyebrows knit in confusion. “What for?”
His brother-in-law puts on a mischievous grin. “Let’s just say you’ll find some essentials in there."
Seungmin’s suspicion deepens, but he doesn’t question it further. Maybe his brother-in-law is being sincere, so Seungmin stops overthinking it. On a more important note, you both need a place to hide, and this is as good as it’s going to get. He glances over at you, and with a silent agreement, you both know you have to take this opportunity, no matter the risks.
“Thanks,” Seungmin mutters, cautious but grateful. “I appreciate it.”
His brother-in-law pats him on the shoulder, giving him a reassuring nod. “Just be careful,” he says.
With that, you and Seungmin slip away into the night, heading toward the boat where, for at least one night, you can finally be alone.
-
The boat is bigger than you thought it would be, bobbing gently in the moonlit water. As you step onto the deck, you feel a sense of freedom, as if, for once, the outside world can’t reach you. You settle into the small but comfortable space, the tension between you fading into something softer, more tender.
When it’s just the two of you, you can finally let your guard down and be your authentic self. You walk up to him and slip into his arms for a warm embrace.
"It's just you and me now," you say, resting your forehead against him.
"Just you and me," he repeats, gently tilting your head with his hand on your chin, and places the gentlest kiss, treating you like a fragile piece of art.
Seungmin leads you through the cabin, the scent of saltwater and wood lingering in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of the sea breeze drifting in from the open hatch.
“This is nice,” you comment, running your fingers along the edge of a worn leather couch. “But do you think your brother-in-law keeps any food around? I’m starving.”
He lets out a soft chuckle and makes his way to the small kitchenette, opening the fridge with a creak. “Looks like frozen pizza is on the menu,” he says, pulling out the pack and showing it to you.
As Seungmin prepares the frozen pizza and tosses it into the microwave, you head to the bedroom to find something comfortable to wear. In the bathroom, you find a soft bathrobe neatly folded on the top shelf. Without a second thought, you change out of your dress and into the robe. As you tie the belt around your waist, you sigh in relief, feeling a great sense of comfort.
By the time you return, Seungmin is plating the pizza, the smell filling the small cabin. He has also found a bottle of champagne in the cabinet, the label a little worn and the drink lukewarm. Both of you eat in comfortable silence, exchanging small smiles between bites, enjoying this rare moment of normalcy.
When the food is all gone, you lean back in your seat with a contented sigh. The dinner is simple, yet it feels more special than any you’ve had before.
Being the neat person he is, Seungmin wastes no time cleaning up after dinner.
“You can clean up later,” you tell him, sipping your warm champagne.
“There’s not much to clean anyway,” he replies, taking the dirty plates back into the cabin.
Remembering what Seungmin’s brother-in-law said before you left, you decide to go on a little hunt for the first-aid kit he mentioned and see what’s inside. It doesn’t take long to find it tucked away in one of the cabinets in the control room. As you open it, you blink in surprise.
“Well, well…” you murmur, pulling out a small Ziploc bag among the usual bandages and ointments.
Seungmin raises an eyebrow when you bring it over and show him. He shakes his head, already deciding it’s a bad idea.
You shrug, holding the pack out to him with a playful smile. “Why not? Let’s live a little.”
“We shouldn’t even be touching his things,” he says, leaning back on the sun lounger.
“What are you talking about? We’ve just eaten his frozen pizza and drunk his champagne,” you remind him, settling onto his lap.
“I can buy those things back for him,” he replies, folding his hands behind his head.
“But he mentioned it, so that means he’s fine with it, right?”
He shakes his head, eyes closed, unwilling to hear more persuasion.
“Come on,” you urge, taking a rolled blunt out of the bag and rolling it between your fingers. “Just one. It’s a special night, isn’t it?”
He opens his eyes and finds himself unable to resist you when you smile so sweetly. He reaches for the blunt.
“Alright, fine," he gives in, "but just one.”
You light it and take a slow drag, letting the smoke curl lazily into the air before handing it over to him. His fingers brush against yours as he inhales, and you watch as his shoulders visibly relax.
The two of you take turns smoking, the night enveloping you in a peaceful cocoon. The quiet of the water, the gentle sway of the boat, and the faint glow of stars above make everything feel far away, as if the world and its complications couldn’t touch you here.
“I could get used to this,” you softly mutter, your voice barely louder than a whisper as you nuzzle into Seungmin’s side, sharing the sun lounger with him, the blunt hanging loosely between your fingers.
Seungmin exhales long and slow, his arm coming around your shoulders to pull you close. “Yeah, me too.”
The smoke, the sea, and the quiet lull you into a different kind of peace—an escape from everything, if only for tonight.
With one last drag, you finish the rest of the blunt yourself. You rest your head on Seungmin’s shoulder, your hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath. For once, you don’t feel like you’re running away from something.
“I wish it could always be like this,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him. “I feel happiest when it’s just us, alone like this.”
Seungmin shifts slightly, his arm tightening around you as if he wants to hold onto this moment forever. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, and your heart flutters in response. He doesn’t say anything at first, just holds you closer, and you wonder if he feels the same way—that the world outside seems so distant when it’s just the two of you.
“I feel it too,” he finally says. “When it’s just us… it feels like everything makes sense. Like we’re the only two people in the world that matter.”
His words make your heart ache with a bittersweet warmth. In a moment like this, it’s easy to forget about the chaos waiting for you back home.
Here, it’s just you and him.
You stare at him, your faces merely inches apart. The moonlight casts a soft glow across his features, and God, he’s just so beautiful. His eyes meet yours, and the longer you look into them, the more you see the depth of his feelings. There’s something tender, something vulnerable—you’ve never seen him look at you like this before.
Seungmin swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if he’s gathering courage. Then, in a soft yet steady voice, he says, “I love you.”
The words hang in the air, suspended between you, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. He’s never said it before, and hearing those words now, spoken under the starry sky with the waves lapping gently against the boat, it feels… magical.
“I love you,” he repeats, his voice more certain this time, his eyes steady on yours. “I don’t care about the rest of it—our families, the politics, all of it. I love you."
Tears well up in your eyes, not from sadness, but from the overwhelming joy of hearing him say those words. You feel the sincerity in them, the weight of what it means for him to admit it, to declare it, despite everything.
You reach for him, cupping his face in your hands. Using your thumb, you softly rub his cheek. “I love you too, Seungmin, and I think I’ve loved you for longer than I can admit," your voice breaking as you try to hold back your emotions.
Seungmin leans in, closing the small distance between you, and kisses you softly, slowly, as if savoring the moment. His lips are warm against yours, and in that kiss, you feel everything: his love, his promise, his fear, and his hope.
-
It's the wine, the blunt, the sense of freedom you're feeling at the moment, and the way you keep replaying the moment Seungmin said those three words in the back of your mind—all of those things make you high, so high that you believe you're on the way to cloud nine.
As you sit straddling him, looking down at him, you feel more attracted to him than ever. It's his beautiful face, his short dark hair that complements his features well, how the white shirt he's wearing accentuates the breadth of his shoulders, and the rolled sleeves exposing the evident veins on his arms. Oh, he's just so fucking hot.
You prop your hands on each side of his head and look into the two orbs of his eyes. He remains unfazed by the intensity of your stare, but he would be stupid not to see the want in your eyes.
Unable to help yourself anymore, you lean in and kiss him, and it feels so good when he kisses you back, responding to your desires. But the kiss is just one of many; you want more, you need more.
As your lips are locked in a rapturous kiss, you take his hand and put it around your neck; his touch feels hot against your skin. To allow him more access, you untie your bathrobe and let it fall, pooling around your waist, exposing your bare chest to him.
Seungmin slowly rises from his seat, wrapping his arms around you without breaking the kiss. You whine when he finally detaches his lips and moan when he places them on your neck next.
"Seungmin," you seductively mewl his name as he nibbles on your ear, your head spinning when he sucks on the sensitive skin.
Your heart is pounding in anticipation of what he's going to do next. You look down and find him gazing at you through his lashes as he drags his lips down your chest. His hands are also making their way to the front when, all of a sudden, he does the unexpected.
Seungmin pulls your bathrobe back on you, tying the belt around your waist with his hand. You look at him in slight shock and disbelief; it's a moment later that you're finally able to speak again.
"Why not?" you ask, blinking at him.
"Not here," he simply says, endearingly tucking your hair behind your ear and then kissing your cheek.
What he does would usually make your heart flutter, but you feel bitter from his indirect rejection of your want. "Yeah but why not?"
"Because it's indecent," he innocently answers.
You scoff because back in the hotel room, Seungmin wasn’t shy about doing indecent things—some of which are far more than just indecent.
"Why? We're on a boat, we're alone, we're under a starry sky... it's romantic," you point out why doing it here would make for a special occasion.
He takes your hands and looks at you. "Then let's get inside."
"No," you flatly refuse with a pout.
"Come on," he says, shaking your hands to get your attention. Unsuccessful, he leans in and kisses your jaw before bringing his mouth close to your ear.
"I know another way to make you see stars," he whispers in a low, sultry voice.
Ugh! You hate how easily he cracks through your defenses. You smile at him and nod, allowing him to lead the way to the cabin, through the small living room, and finally into the cramped bedroom.
He grabs you by the waist and steers you to the bed, laying you down gently. He doesn’t hesitate to come on top of you, hovering above you as he captures your lips in a hard, deep kiss that consumes you whole.
Your hands refuse to remain idle; you pop every button on his shirt without looking, and when you’re done, you part it open, impatiently placing your hands on his body, trailing the outline of his abs with your fingertips.
Seungmin lets go of the kiss to take a breather, helping you with the shirt, shaking it off his shoulders, and tossing it aside. But the task is not done there; you loop your finger around the belt loop on his slacks and pull him close.
The head of his belt clinks as you take it off and hastily tear open the zipper. Without wasting a second, you pull his slacks down until they pool around his ankles.
"Oh, la la," you exclaim delightedly, biting your lips at the sight of him standing gloriously naked before you.
"Are you going to do something about it?" he asks, his voice heavy with assertiveness, hinting that he demands you to.
"Uhm... not sure," you coyly say, slowly wrapping your hand around his length and stroking it as it gradually hardens in your palm.
You land a few licks under the tip and around the length, and when you’re ready, you take him into your mouth, compensating the rest with your hand. He feels hot, hard, and veiny, slipping in and out of your mouth while you maintain eye contact with him.
Seungmin grips your shoulder, his nails faintly digging into your flesh, but he’s aware that it might hurt you, so he tangles his fingers in your hair, tugging at it when pleasure overwhelms him.
"Stop!" he gently says, though his voice remains assertive.
You slowly pull away with a string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. He runs his thumb over your lips, separating them before shoving it into your mouth, and you gladly suck on it.
There's a loud pop when Seungmin takes his thumb out, and with his hand on your chest, he pushes you onto the bed, sending you lying back down. He parts your legs and kneels on the floor, wanting to return the favor to you.
All the times he has pleased you with his mouth, he’s done a wonderful job, so you lay on your back and close your eyes, knowing you’re in for a treat.
The kisses he places on your inner thighs are electrifying; his lips are soft as they land on your clit, and his tongue feels hot as he licks a long stripe down your folds. He uses two fingers on each side to pull your folds apart, diving in and drowning himself in you.
"Oh..." you moan as his tongue teases your entrance.
Every kiss, every lick, every place his tongue explores, and every gentle pressure he applies to your clit—Seungmin calculates everything to give you the utmost pleasure. But tonight, he isn’t being generous; he stops just when it starts to feel so good.
You almost groan in frustration, but before it can escape your mouth, he catches your lips in a hungry kiss, making you forget your complaints, your ability to speak, and your whereabouts, but not your wants.
You part your legs wider to welcome him, seeking that closeness, wanting his delicious cock as close as possible to where you want him the most.
"If you don’t put it in, I think I’ll die," you dramatically mutter against his lips.
Seungmin lets out a chuckle and kisses you again. "I want that embroidered on a pillow."
The feeling of your needs finally met—oh, there’s nothing like it. When it comes to Seungmin, though, you’re not sure you’ll ever be satisfied; you keep wanting more.
More of those hard kisses on your lips, more of those hands kneading your breasts and gripping your legs, more of those moans slipping from his mouth into yours, more of his cock slipping in and out of you, more of those hard, shallow thrusts making your eyes roll back—more and more and more...
He isn’t lying when he says he knows another way to make you see stars. As you hit your high and your eyes screw shut, you see nothing but stars.
Seungmin comes not long after, collapsing on top of you. His lips immediately search for yours, kissing you with such haste when they find you.
When you finally pull apart, you both lay there in the silence of the night, wrapped in each other and the warmth of this tender moment. The world outside feels far away, and for now, this is enough—just the two of you, tangled in each other, both of your heads full of stars.
-
Things are going well. Your relationship with Seungmin remains a secret, and the results of the pre-vote are out, revealing that your father is leading the race by an 8% margin. Everyone is happy, all is well—but you have this nagging feeling in your chest that things won’t stay like this for long. You hope it's for the better, and God, you hope that's true.
To celebrate your father leading in the pre-vote, your family holds a brunch this afternoon. Being invited to this is a significant step toward winning your way back into the family. Your little sister has taken your hand under the table, squeezing it as a sign of solidarity. She hasn’t said it out loud, but you can feel that she’s happy to have you here, part of the family again, even if only for a moment.
However, as the minutes tick by and your father doesn’t appear, a gnawing feeling settles in your chest. You try to brush it off, focusing on how far you’ve come. After all, you’re here, included, proving that you can still be the daughter your family wants you to be.
Then your mother calls you and asks you to follow her to your father’s study. She makes you sit on the leather sofa in anticipation. Her expression is soft, but there’s something behind her eyes that makes your stomach churn, and you know something is wrong before she even speaks.
“When was the last time you saw him?” she asks, her voice quiet but direct.
Your mind flashes back to that night with Seungmin on the boat. You haven’t told anyone, and as far as you know, no one has seen you. But your mother’s gaze is sharp, and she’ll know if you lie.
“I… I went on a boat with Seungmin,” you admit meekly, your voice small and low. “But we were discreet. I swear, no one saw us.”
Your mother lets out a heavy sigh, her hand going to the nape of her neck as she massages it lightly. She doesn’t say anything but takes out her phone from her tweed jacket, tapping the screen a few times before handing it to you. Your eyes widen as you look at the screen, the shock hitting you like a punch to the gut.
There on the screen are photos—compromising photos. Some show you smoking; others are more intimate, even naked. You feel the blood drain from your face. These are pictures from that night on Seungmin’s brother-in-law’s boat, now plastered across the internet.
“Mom…” you stammer, trying to make sense of it. “There was no one there except us. This can’t be happening. It wasn’t Seungmin… it couldn’t be.”
“I’m afraid you weren’t as discreet as you thought,” your mother says, her expression composed but with a grave undertone. “Your father found out about the relationship. He’s furious, and this… this could ruin everything for him.”
You feel faint and hurriedly lean against the table to steady yourself. “No… no, it can’t be. Seungmin would never—”
The idea of Seungmin betraying you is unthinkable, but the pictures don’t lie. Someone had been there, someone had taken them, and now your life is spiraling out of control.
“I don’t believe it’s him,” you insist, shaking your head in denial. “Seungmin wouldn’t do this to me. He cares about me.”
“Think about what’s best for you,” your mother says, her voice rising slightly as she struggles to keep her composure. “Whether it’s Seungmin or his family behind this, we can’t take any more risks. You need to stay away from him, at least until I can figure out what’s really going on.”
Your heart aches, torn between your love for Seungmin and the loyalty you’re still trying to prove to your family.
“I’m sending you back to your hotel,” she says in a tone that leaves no room for argument. “And you’re not to leave until I say it’s safe. Your father is already angry enough, and we can’t afford any more mistakes.”
Before you can protest, she leaves, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving you standing in the middle of the room. You want to believe in Seungmin, but now doubts plague your mind. A question gnaws at you: Is your love for Seungmin worth risking everything you have left?
-
The car ride back to the hotel is a blur of tears and shattered trust. Your chest feels heavy, the weight of betrayal pressing down on you, suffocating you.
The man you trusted, the one who held you close, is part of the very family responsible for leaking those photos. Whether Seungmin is directly involved or not doesn’t matter anymore—his family is, and that’s enough for you to push him away.
The car pulls up to the curb, and the doorman is there instantly, opening the door and offering his hand to help you out. You feel faint, your legs trembling from the emotions raging inside, but you force yourself to stand, to walk, and to keep your head up if you can.
Just as you step onto the pavement, a familiar hand grabs your arm. You stop in your tracks, your heart aching in your chest.
Seungmin. He’s there, his eyes wide with worry, as if he hadn’t expected to see you like this. And oh, the sight of him, the man you thought you could trust, brings everything crashing down.
Without thinking, you rush at him, your fists pounding against his chest in a fit of anger and betrayal.
“How could you?!” you scream through your tears, each punch that lands fueled by the pain inside. “How could you let them do this to me?!”
Seungmin doesn’t fight back. He just stands there, letting you hit him, his face filled with shock and pain as he tries to reach for you, to explain.
“It wasn’t me,” he tries to say, but the words are lost in the chaos of your emotions. “You know I’d never—”
“Stop lying!” you shout, cutting him off.
Your emotions hit their boiling point, the pain overwhelming you. “You expect me to believe you didn’t know? That this wasn’t some way to tear me apart?”
His eyes widen in disbelief, his hands reaching for you, but you slap them away. “I don’t know who’s doing this, but I would never let anyone hurt you like this. You have to believe me!”
“Believe you? After everything that’s happened? I’ve been humiliated, and you come here pretending like you had nothing to do with it?” Your voice rises with every word, and you’re too far gone, too hurt.
He tries again, stepping closer, but you shove him hard enough that he staggers backward. “I can’t even look at you right now. Get out! Get the fuck out of my face!” you scream, tears streaming down your cheeks.
Seeing you like this is painful for him, but not as painful as knowing he caused this. His hands tremble as he tries one last time to reach for you. “Please, don’t do this—let’s talk—”
Drawn by the commotion, hotel security steps in between you and him, blocking him from approaching you.
“Sir, you need to leave,” one of them says, placing a firm hand on Seungmin’s shoulder.
“Wait! Just let me talk to her!” He tries to push past them, but they hold him back, stronger.
It’s too late. You’ve already turned away, not even sparing him a last glance. He can’t bear the thought of being the cause of all this.
As the door of your hotel room clicks shut behind you, the silence fills the room, and everything comes crashing down again. This time, you don’t have anything left to fight with, so you let the pain and heartbreak consume you, sinking to the floor as tears flood your eyes.
It hits you now—you’ve pushed away the one person you thought you could trust, but everything feels broken beyond repair. It feels like you’re losing everything: your family, your trust, and the man you thought was different.
Leaning against the closed door that seals you off from the outside world, you wonder if there’s anything left to hold on to.
-
The more Seungmin thinks about it, the more certain he becomes that there is only one person who could have leaked the photos—someone who knew about the boat, someone involved. His brother-in-law.
He doesn’t waste any more time. He grabs his car keys and drives straight to his brother-in-law’s place. A storm rages in his chest, anger mixed with dread, his head full of accusations and possible answers.
When he arrives, he skips the courtesies and storms inside. He finds his brother-in-law leaning against the kitchen counter, looking surprised but not startled to see him.
“Seungmin? What’s going on?” he casually asks.
Seungmin doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of him, glaring into his eyes, refusing to be fooled again.
“You know damn well what’s going on. You’re the only one who knew about the boat, the only one who could’ve tipped off the paparazzi. Tell me the truth!" He slams his hand on the counter, causing a spoon resting on the edge of a bowl to clatter. "Did you leak those photos?”
His brother-in-law’s face tenses, the calm façade slipping, replaced by panic. “Look, Seungmin, before you go off—”
“Just answer me!” Seungmin urges, his voice cracking with anger. He can’t bear the thought that someone so close to him—someone he thought of as a brother—has betrayed him like this.
After an intense silence, his brother-in-law sighs and rubs his forehead. “Fine. Yes, I hired the paparazzi.”
Deep down, Seungmin knew this would be the answer, but it doesn’t stop the anger and betrayal surging through him. His hands ball into fists at his sides, his body shaking from holding back violence.
“You set us up? Why?”
His brother-in-law looks at him and licks his lips before answering, “It wasn’t just me, alright? I had permission—permission from your father.”
Seungmin could understand his brother-in-law’s motive: he wants to get on his father’s good side, to be acknowledged and approved. But his father? His own father, whom Seungmin respects and admires, someone he has helped campaign for because he believes in him?
“My father? He knew? He approved this?” Seungmin stammers, struggling to comprehend it.
“Your father’s been watching you, Seungmin. He knows about your little affair with her, and he’s not happy. So yeah, he gave the go-ahead. The idea was to expose her, make her the problem,” his brother-in-law explains, and as if he couldn’t say anything more stupid, he adds, “It’s nothing personal, just politics.”
Seungmin knocks everything off the table—plates, glass, spoon—all clattering to the floor. “You ruined her life for politics!" he shouts, hoping it’ll knock some sense into his brother-in-law’s crooked mind.
“You know how this works, Seungmin,” his brother-in-law says calmly, still leaning against the counter. “Your father is just trying to protect you.”
“Protect me? By destroying her? By ruining her reputation?” Seungmin’s jaw clenches as he fists his hands so hard his knuckles turn white.
“She’s not innocent in all of this, and you know you shouldn’t have gotten involved with her in the first place,” his brother-in-law says, his gaze piercing.
It’s betrayal upon betrayal. Seungmin’s mind is still struggling to process the fact that his father orchestrated the entire thing, using his brother-in-law to tear them apart.
Without another word, Seungmin storms out, but his brother-in-law daringly runs his mouth once more, “You’ll thank me later, Seungmin. Trust me.”
But Seungmin isn’t listening. His mind is busy planning what to do next—how to fix this, how to make things right. His number one priority is not letting his family ruin your life any further.
-
Seungmin storms into his father’s office, despite his father clearly being in the middle of an interview. His father hurriedly signals his secretary to escort the interviewer out of the room, knowing Seungmin is barely containing his anger.
The man behind the desk doesn’t flinch, already knowing why his son is there. He’s always composed and in control, but today, Seungmin isn’t going to let him keep that control.
“You set me up,” Seungmin spits, his voice sharp with betrayal. His father looks up, surprised but not shaken. “You used your own son to destroy her, to ruin her life, just because of some political rivalry?”
His father leans back in his chair, calmly putting his hands together in front of him. “It’s not about you, Seungmin. It’s about our family’s legacy. You were distracted, involved with the wrong person. I had to make sure you stayed focused on what really matters.”
“What really matters?” Seungmin’s voice shakes with disbelief and anger. “What really matters is that you took someone I care about and humiliated her! For what? Your campaign?”
“That girl was trouble,” his father remarks coldly. “She’s from a family that stands against everything we’re trying to build. You should have known better.”
“I don’t care about the politics!” Seungmin shouts, stepping closer to his father’s desk, unafraid for the first time of going against his father’s principles. “I care about her, and you—you ruined her for your own gain.”
His father stands, towering over the desk and staring intensely into his eyes. “You think you can just walk away from this? From your family? We’ve sacrificed everything for you, Seungmin. You’re going to be a part of this, whether you like it or not.”
“No, I’m not. I’m done with all of this. I’ll never be a part of this family again,” Seungmin says, shaking his head, done being a pawn in his father’s political games.
His father’s eyes darken, and a cold smirk rises at the corner of his lips. “You think this is all about one girl?” he scoffs.
“You’re naïve, Seungmin. You haven’t been in this world long enough to understand how power works. Sacrifices have to be made. And if you walk away from this family, from me, there’s more where that came from.”
Seungmin’s chest tightens with disbelief. “What do you mean by that?”
His father leans forward, his voice low and dangerous. “You think those were the only photos? There’s more from her past. I have them, and if you walk away now—if you so much as think about turning your back on this family—I will release every last one. She won’t have a life left to salvage.”
His father pulls open a drawer and takes out a file, showing Seungmin the photos he’s been keeping as a weapon. “But if you stay—if you fall in line and keep your head down until the election is over—I’ll make sure they disappear.”
Seungmin is hit with another wave of betrayal. His father had planned this all along, dangling her reputation as leverage over him. He expected manipulation, but this? This was beyond anything he could have imagined.
“You’re willing to destroy everything just for power?”
His father doesn’t flinch. “It’s not about power, Seungmin. It’s about winning. And I have won.”
-
TEN DAYS LATER.
The election is over, and his father has indeed won, but to Seungmin, it means he has nothing left to lose.
The man in front of him has torn apart the one thing that means the most to him, and for what? A title? A seat in the governor’s office?
As everyone gathers around his father, congratulating him and celebrating his victory, Seungmin can't help but wonder: does his father feel the slightest bit of disgust for what he did to achieve this win? Seungmin certainly does. He can't look at his father the same way anymore and he refuses being related to him apart from sharing the same DNA.
Seungmin makes his way toward his father, and when he's close enough, he extends his hand. His father doesn't hesitate and grips it, shaking it with a triumphant smile plastered across his face.
"Are you happy now?" Seungmin asks calmly.
"Well, I've won," his father replies with a sickening smirk.
There’s not a hint of remorse on his face for what he did to his own son, which only convinces Seungmin further that he wants no part of this anymore.
"But you've lost your son," Seungmin boldly remarks, each word carrying a finality his father can’t ignore.
Without waiting for his father’s reply, Seungmin turns on his heel and walks away—from his father, his family, everything. He leaves the office behind, as if it’s already become a distant memory.
There's only one thing left to do now.
He drives straight to your father’s campaign headquarters because he doesn't know where else to start. Your family is the only one who knows where you are, and although he doubts any of them would tell him, he can’t—he mustn't—give up.
When he arrives, the place is busy with activity, but it offers a different kind of atmosphere compared to his father’s headquarters. He balls his hands into fists in determination and enters the building without hesitation.
"Apologies, sir, but the headquarters is strictly for staff only tonight," a security guard blocks him from stepping inside.
"I need to talk to someone in there," Seungmin says, hoping the guard will understand and let him through.
"Unless you’ve already made an appointment, we can't let you in, sir," the guard says firmly, crossing his arms and standing in front of the doorway.
Reluctantly, Seungmin steps back, trying to come up with a new plan. He considers waiting outside until one of your family members leaves. It’s a flawed idea, but it’s the best one he has.
Then, as if by divine intervention, your younger sister appears at the reception desk. Seungmin takes a step closer to the entrance, ignoring the guard, and does everything he can to catch her attention, even calling her by her full name.
She looks over her shoulder and, upon seeing him, her expression turns cold and defensive. She never trusted him, and Seungmin doesn’t blame her. Still, he’s desperate, and this might be his only chance to find you.
“I need to know where she is,” Seungmin says, his voice steady but pleading. “I need to see her before it’s too late.”
Your sister crosses her arms, scrutinizing him. "Why should I help you? After everything that’s happened, why should I trust you?"
His throat tightens, but he meets her gaze with unwavering sincerity. “Because I love her. I had no part in what my father did. I’d give up everything to be with her. I already have.”
There’s a long pause as your sister’s expression shifts, her defenses slowly lowering. Perhaps she sees the earnestness in his eyes, the depth of his regret, and his determination.
She turns to the receptionist, writes something down on a piece of paper, and hands it to him. “If you break her heart again, I swear to God...” she mutters, leaving the threat unfinished.
Seungmin’s heart leaps. He’s just met her, but she already feels more like family than his own ever has. “Thank you," he says, his voice full of gratitude.
“She’s leaving the country tomorrow, so you’d better hurry,” she adds, turning away before he can say anything more.
Every second becomes precious as his heart pounds with a new sense of urgency. This is it. He won’t lose you—not to his father, not to the mess his family has created. This time, nothing will stop him.
-
The country house is quiet, almost too quiet. The only sounds are the soft rustling of the trees outside and the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards beneath your feet. The room is stifling, but it’s your thoughts that press down on you the most. You fold another shirt and tuck it into your suitcase, packing for tomorrow, planning to leave nothing behind.
It was a mistake to come back here, and you know it now. This city was once a refuge; now, it feels like a prison, a place to hide. You’ve become a liability to your family, and your father made that painfully clear when he sent you here. You were told to stay quiet, remain hidden, and leave without a trace in the morning.
There’s no future for you here anyway.
Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you zip up the suitcase. You can’t take any more of this—feeling like a pawn in a game that was never yours to play. Leaving is the only choice left. It’s for the best, even if it means abandoning everything you’ve ever known. It’s not an easy decision, but you force yourself to push through it.
Then, suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, breaking the stillness of the night.
Your heart leaps, and for a moment, you freeze. You remember your father’s warnings: Never open the door. No one is to know you’re here. Stay hidden. You take a step back, away from the door.
Another knock comes, this time more urgent.
You remain still, holding your breath, praying that whoever it is will go away. But then you hear a voice—his voice.
“Please... it’s me, Seungmin.”
Your heart races at the sound of his voice, familiar and full of emotion. You badly want to rush to the door, to throw it open and fall into his arms, but the alarm bells in your head ring louder. You can’t. You shouldn’t.
“I know you’re in there,” Seungmin says, his voice breaking between words. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Please... just let me in.”
You clench your fists, torn between what you know is right and the ache in your chest. You stay quiet, pressing your back against the door, fighting the overwhelming urge to respond.
"I had to find you," Seungmin continues, his voice softer now, almost desperate. “I couldn’t let you leave without seeing you. I can’t lose you—not after everything we’ve been through.”
Tears well in your eyes as you lean your forehead against the door, trying to keep your emotions in check. You *shouldn’t* let him in. This is a mistake—all of it—but hearing him on the other side, so close yet out of reach, is tearing you apart.
“I just want to be with you," Seungmin whispers. "I love you.”
The words break something inside you, and before you realize what you’re doing, your hand is on the doorknob. Torn between fear and love, you know you shouldn’t open the door, but your heart is aching for him. No matter how hard you try, you can’t ignore the pull you feel toward him.
“Please, don’t shut me out," he mutters, his voice thick with hopelessness.
Your walls crumble almost immediately and with shaking hands, you unlock the door and pull it open, revealing Seungmin standing there, his face full of worry and relief. His eyes soften the moment they meet yours. Without a word, he steps forward and takes you into his arms.
He holds you tightly, his warmth familiar and comforting. He feels like home. Finally, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.
Seungmin buries his face in your hair, whispering, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
You pull back just enough to look up at him, your eyes searching his. In that moment, without thinking, you lean in and press your lips to his—a kiss full of longing and everything you’ve been holding back for so long.
In the quiet of that night, with the stars shining through the open window and the future uncertain, you know that, despite everything, being with him is the only thing that makes sense.
-
The soft glow of moonlight filters through the curtains, casting a delicate sheen across the room. Your naked bodies are entwined beneath the sheets, the warmth of the moment lingering between you.
Seungmin hovers above you, his chest rising and falling as he gently caresses your face, his fingertips tracing the outline of your cheek like you are something sacred. His gaze is intense but tender, as if memorizing every part of you, still unable to believe you are really here in his arms.
His touch is soft, but the weight of the emotions between you is palpable. You can feel it in the way his fingers brush over your skin. He hasn’t said much, but his eyes tell everything—relief, love, fear of what could have been if he had lost you for good.
“I almost lost you,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing your lips. You lean into his touch, savoring the feeling of being so close, so connected. “I don’t ever want to feel that again.”
You gaze up at him, your heart aching with affection. Here, in this moment, it is just you and him, and nothing else matters.
Seungmin lowers his head to place a soft kiss on your forehead, then your lips, as if sealing some unspoken promise between the two of you.
“Let’s go somewhere,” his lips brush against yours with every word. “Let's start over, somewhere far away from all of this.”
The invitation comes so suddenly that you don’t know how to react. You blink up at him, feeling a mix of emotions—hope, love, but also fear. You love him deeply, more than you thought was possible, but you don’t want him to lose everything for you the way you have for him.
“Seungmin…” you whisper, your voice barely audible as your hand comes up to cup his face. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to lose your family, not like I did.”
“I’m sure,” he says firmly, his voice filled with conviction. “This, us, it’s what I want. I want to leave all of this behind and just be with you.”
A tear rolls down your cheek as you stare into his eyes, seeing the truth in his words, the earnestness of his intentions. While it makes you indescribably happy, it also breaks your heart a little. He is giving up everything—his family, his place in their world—just to be with you. You love him more for it, but it's also a heavy burden to bear.
“You really mean that?” you ask, your voice trembling with emotion.
Seungmin nods, his forehead pressing gently against yours. “Yes. This is what I want.”
It feels like the world has finally shifted, like things are starting to fall into place. Even though the future is still uncertain, you believe in him, in the two of you together, and that's enough.
“I love you,” you whisper, pulling him down into a soft, lingering kiss. “As long as we’re together, everything’s going to be okay.”
He kisses you back, holding you tightly against him, and in that moment, everything becomes clear. This is not just a mere coincidence. This is fate. You and Seungmin, together, is fate.
-
The hum of the plane's engines is comforting, familiar, as you both settle into your seats, side by side.
The memory of that first flight together—the stolen glances, the whispered conversations—comes rushing back, but this time it feels different. This is a new beginning, a chance to start over.
Seungmin glances over at you, a playful glint filling his warm brown eyes. He shifts in his seat, turning toward you just like he had the first time.
"Hi, I’m Seungmin,” he softly says, offering his hand in mock formality, his smile full of warmth. “Traveling alone?”
You can’t help but smile back, slipping your hand into his. “Nice to meet you. And I’m traveling with someone very special, actually.”
You both chuckle, the familiarity of the moment easing the tension of everything that came before. It's like stepping into a memory but with the promise of something better ahead.
Seungmin’s eyes soften as he looks at you, and he leans in closer, his voice lowering.
“Business or pleasure?” you ask playfully, replaying the conversation that had sparked your connection all those months ago.
“Neither,” he answers, his voice gentle but certain. “I’m traveling for a happy ending.”
His words send a flutter through your chest, and you feel the warmth spread all the way to your fingertips. You look at him, your heart overflowing with emotion, knowing that this isn’t just a flight—it is a leap into the unknown, into something new and full of possibility.
You squeeze his hand, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin against yours. “A happy ending,” you repeat with a smile.
As the plane begins to taxi down the runway, he intertwines his fingers with yours, holding on tightly, unwilling to let go. You both stare out the window, watching the world fall away beneath you, your hearts beating in sync.
And as the plane lifts off, climbing higher into the sky, you know that whatever the future holds, as long as you are together, everything will be okay.
The past is behind you now, and in this moment, with Seungmin by your side, the world feels wide open, full of hope and promise. Into a happy ending, you go.
-
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So, funny story.
I decided to thrift some more books because Pirate Stew was such a hit, and tonight I opened the copy of Crazy Hair to find we've ended up with a signed copy!
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First, thanks to the person who shared their beloved book for someone else to enjoy. Second, thanks again @neil-gaiman.
(Especially cool because while ravens are extremely rare in the city, we do have crows, and we enjoy feeding the crows together. And when she's old enough to appreciate The Raven it's going to become a Halloween tradition because I really enjoy it.)
By some fantastical turn of events, it turns out that my daughter and I have the same favorite author. She's three. I'm mumblethirtysomethingmumble. She might even be a bigger fan than me.
(it's vastly important to note the shame is not from the age but because i keep losing count and so I'm considering just keeping track in decades from now on)
So, first let me say that it was a happy coincidence that the author of one of my favorite books as an adolescent (Coraline) turned out to be the author (one of the authors anyway) of one of my favorite books as an adult. I presume you can guess based on *gestures wildly at profile*.
But it was an entirely different not-coincidence-but-still-a-surprise situation that transpired whereupon this author became my daughter's favorite author.
I was perusing G - GAIMAN for some other books I'd been interested in reading to her -- the one about wolves and the other one about goldfish -- when I happened upon Pirate Stew. I bought it, and it looked like fun. I had no idea.
Now, children's books are my kryptonite. I can get by myself on digital purchases and the library, but my child? Absolutely not, I CANNOT say no to buying her books. It's literally -- no matter what my bank account claims -- impossible to pass up a book if I think she'll like it.
Nonetheless, she's three. She never remains on any one book for any particular length of time, even though she enjoys them and already uses them during parties to avoid eye contact and conversation with strangers. She takes after me, see.
But this book? She is absolutely ENAMORED with it. We went to a play place thing where they had a massive boat to play on and she ran around yelling about pirate stew with her mud pies. It's ALWAYS her one of two books she reads for bedtime. If it's not in her rotation of books, she'll ask for it specifically. More importantly, it's the only book she's loved enough to pretend to read to me, for the first time in her young little life.
I don't know what I'm trying to say here, I guess thanks @neil-gaiman for making the joy of reading accessible to all ages. Here's to many more years of reading -- and maybe someday she'll start writing, too. She's very fond of art, in all its forms, so no matter what I think she'll be inspired to partake in the creative process.
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harrysfolklore · 10 months ago
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my favorite fics, vol 6
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it’s been a while since the last time i posted a fic rec masterpost ! here are my favorite fics i’ve read recently (i’m doing one for tom soon) enjoy !
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
fluff:
perception by @goldengalore
harry styles talking about his girlfriend for 16 minutes by @astranva
afterparty by @chaoticloving
favorite holiday by @tsumtsumrry (has smut)
knight in shinning armor by @fetusharryluvr
just called to say i love you by @harrywritingsbyme
bad habit by @ifancyharry
maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two by @itsallyscorner
when you fall in love by @avatar-anna
serendipity by @adorebeaa (has smut and angst)
pinky swear by @inyourhaven
italy by @bonesandchalamet
5 ways harry mentions you on stage by @glitteredrry
my love, we were in paris by @alonetimelover
sweet nothings by @pancakes4two
get enough by @theshyspy
this insta blurb by @llvstrous099
dynamic by @mydearesthrry
the pact by @harryslittlefreakk
oh, i think she said by @justmeinatree
routines by @elioslover
coffee talk by @itsallyscorner
finally a dad by @flwrsforu
bo peep by @haarrrys
this by @harryyskiwii
angst:
little freak by @goldenbuckyyy
i wish i could change by @cowboy-like-mee
argument by @secret-rendezvous1d
don’t let me down by @itsprashimusic
false god by @sleepyhollands
airport chaos by @musicforastylesrestaurant
this by @alonetimelover
if you love something by @writingsfromhome
home is a feeling by @adore-laur
smut:
italian sun by @harry-on-broadway
no guarantee by @allofurlove
we fight, we make up by @strawnarrries
bad idea, right? by @atharryshouse
private show by @stylesharrys
bad idea right by @lukesaprince
under his bed by @gurugirl
tease by @eveningepiphany
just a little taste by @stylescine
series:
begin again by @sweetcherryharry
ifall for harry by @freedomfireflies
the divorce by @butdaddyilovehim-hs
stages of grief by @missmielyhoran
somebody else by @harrystylescherry
ms honey by @solarisstyles
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stylesispunk · 5 months ago
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'I've been praying, I never did before'
Not outbreak! Joel Miller x f! Reader
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summary: you prayed to God to send you the answers. Should you stay with Joel or leave him?
w.c: 5k> warnings: angst and cheating.
a/n: this one is based on this ask a lovely anon (🍫) sent the other day. (thanks for your support, I hope I made it justice) and I hope you all like it. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 💌
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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You weren't a religious person.
You believed in God, but your devotion didn't go beyond the necklace's cross and your eloquent prayers asking for the protection of your loved ones.
You weren't a religious person, but you thought God sent Joel to you that night at the bar when a wasted man thought he had some power over you just because you wore a short dress. Everyone should have seen his face the night he first got you.
And you thought God rewrote the prophecy of your failed luck in love.
Joel, the sweetheart. Joel, the loving, thoughtful, and faithful.
Joel Miller, your boyfriend of six years.
Not rings, not clues of him saying you loved beyond the whispers in your ear when he had his arm wrapped around your waist in public, showing you off to hide you from the rest of the world once the lights weren’t on you.
The first signs of your love rusting into scarlet maroon.
At first, you brushed them off, attributing the occasional cold shoulders or the missing date nights to stress, life’s inevitable distractions, or nights of hard work. But deep down, you felt the shift. The whispers of doubt crept in, subtle yet persistent, like the gradual erosion of a once impenetrable fortress.
All the vipers are moaning in mourning for you and your poor wounded heart, already cracking due to the daggers thrown at you in poisoned words.
Joel made you feel invincible, loved, and worthy of something as warm as the golden dawn. However, his eyes, once brimming with affection, now flickered with a hint of something words couldn’t speak. His somber eyes matched the gray clouds before the storm on a cloudy day, with no defense or barbed wire to keep you warm. You tried to bridge the growing chasm with gestures of love and attempts at rekindling the spark, but it felt like grasping at smoke.
The nights grew longer, and the silences became more pronounced. You found yourself reminiscing about the early days, the nights spent talking until dawn, the effortless laughter, and the shared dreams you were supposed to build. Those memories felt like a lifeline, a reminder of what once was and what you desperately wanted to reclaim as yours.
Yet, the more you clung to the past, the more it slipped through your fingers. Joel's once warm embraces became mechanical, his kisses lacking the fervor they once held. No more lips attached to your forehead for protection. The blaze on your sheets, once fueled by the fire of your touches, has now become a simple ritual, devoid of connection.
You began to wonder if you had misread the signs, if perhaps you had mistaken God's intervention for a fleeting moment of serendipity. The love that had once felt like destiny now seemed like a chapter nearing its end. The vibrant hues of your relationship had faded, leaving behind a tapestry woven with threads of doubt and broken promises.
In the quiet moments of solitude, when you waited by the door, hoping for Joel to step into the house, you wondered how the red roses he brought grew back as thorns, hurting your fingers as much as when you touched his skin. Would you be able to build a fort after this storm?
"Dad isn’t here yet?" Sarah interrupted your thoughts from the stairs, her wide eyes gazing into yours with the same worry drawn on them.
"No, sweetheart, not yet," you replied, trying to mask your own anxiety with a reassuring smile.
Sarah descended the stairs slowly, her small frame casting a long shadow in the dim light of the hallway. She reached your side and leaned against you, her presence a small comfort in the growing uncertainty.
"Did he say he would be late?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
You shook your head. "He didn't say anything, Sarah. Maybe he's just caught up at work."
But you both knew it was more than that. The nights he came home late were becoming more frequent; the excuses were absurd. The distance between you and Joel was no longer just emotional; it was physical, an ever-widening gap that neither of you seemed able to bridge.
"We'll wait a little longer," you said, wrapping an arm around Sarah's shoulders. "He'll be home soon."
Together, you stood in the hallway, the silence stretching out, heavy and oppressive. The clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, each one a reminder of the uncertainty that now defined your lives.
Sarah was thirteen; she wasn’t naïve when it came to your somber eyes growing gray with each passing day. How do your luminous smiles become a sad smirk just for the sake of pretending?
And as you waited, you couldn't help but wonder if the prophecy of your failed luck in love had been rewritten after all, not by God but by the slow, inevitable decay of a love that once seemed eternal.
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The memory flooded back, a vibrant contrast to the present. It was a crisp autumn afternoon, the air filled with the scent of fallen leaves. You and Joel had decided to escape the city for a day, driving out to the countryside without any particular destination in mind.
“Where are we going?” you had asked, laughter in your voice as the wind whipped through the open car windows.
“Somewhere beautiful,” Joel replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
You ended up at a secluded lake, its surface like glass reflecting the fiery colors of the trees surrounding it. Joel spread out a blanket, and you both sat down, your shoulders touching, sharing the warmth of the moment.
“This is perfect,” you whispered, leaning into him.
He turned to you, his face inches from yours. “You’re perfect,” he said softly before capturing your lips in a kiss that felt like the first rays of sunshine after a storm.
You spent the afternoon there, talking about everything and nothing, your conversations punctuated by comfortable silences filled with the sound of nature and the beating of your hearts. Joel picked up a pebble and skimmed it across the lake’s surface.
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over everything, Joel pulled out a small notebook from his jacket pocket. “I’ve been writing something,” he admitted, looking almost shy. “About us.”
You felt a lump in your throat as he read aloud, his deep voice weaving words of love and dreams of a future together. It was in that moment you realized just how deeply Joel had intertwined with your soul, making you believe in a forever you had always been skeptical of.
“Marry me someday,” he had said, not as a question but as a promise.
“Someday,” you had agreed, sealing it with a kiss that tasted of hope and endless possibilities.
That day, everything felt like a love story from a book, each written page filled with the promise that seemed far from the truth now.
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You thought of God when you walked towards the church, seeking prayers and perhaps answers about the fate of your written story with Joel.
The voices were getting to your head, as were the flashbacks from the first night. Puzzle pieces on the dead end of a relationship reeking of putrefaction. You should've known better; flowers die of thirst after being picked.
You thought of the nights. Joel came home late—the missed dinners, the cold shoulders. Each instance is a small fracture, barely noticeable at first but gradually accumulating into a chasm. You thought of the way his kisses had lost their warmth, becoming mere pecks devoid of passion. You had tried to hold on, to rekindle the flame, but it was like trying to grasp water with your hands—it slipped through your fingers, elusive and unattainable.
Dolls are pretty inside their boxes, then they are taken out, played with, worn down, and eventually discarded. You felt like that doll, once cherished and now left on a shelf, gathering dust.
"God," you murmured, "if you can hear me, please show me what to do. Show me how to fix this, or give me the strength to let go."
But how would you resist his charming promises after he had stolen your wounded heart, fixed you, and made you feel like you belonged somewhere?
Once you reached the bench, you got on your knees, clasping your hands together, and prayed to the Lord. You begged him to give you answers.
Should I stay with Joel? Or should I take this knife to my lungs and remove it?
There was nothing more humiliating than begging God that somebody would love you the way you wanted. You have let people love you the way you thought you deserved.
Please
Your golden bracelet was fading into a scarlet maroon as you clasped your palms together, praying.
Please
You prayed, trying not to imagine Joel shoving his dick into some other woman.
The silence that followed was heavy, pressing down on you like a weight on your shoulders. But in that silence, you felt a flicker of something—hope, perhaps, or maybe just a sense of acceptance. You realized that, whether you found a way to mend your relationship or decided to walk away, you would survive. You would find a way to heal, even with your heart in pieces.
As you stood to leave, you took one last look at the altar, the candles still flickering stubbornly against the darkness. You walked out of the church with a little more resolve.
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You wake up in the middle of the night. Joel is there, breathing with his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. You watch him for a moment, your heart aching with the memories of what used to be. Since when did you become a footnote in the story of his life?
Unable to find solace in the darkness, you slip out of bed, careful not to wake him. The floor is cool beneath your feet as you make your way downstairs, the house silent except for the faint creaks and groans of settling wood. You head to the kitchen, seeking the comfort of a warm cup of tea—something to soothe the restlessness gnawing at your soul.
You fill the kettle and set it on the stove, the soft click of the burner igniting the only sound breaking the stillness. As you wait for the water to boil, you lean against the counter, your thoughts drifting back to the early days with Joel, when love was a fire that warmed you both.
The kettle whistles, jolting you from your reverie. You pour the steaming water over a tea bag, and the fragrant aroma of chamomile rises to meet you. As you stir the tea, you hear the soft padding of footsteps behind you. Turning, you see Joel standing in the doorway, his eyes heavy with sleep.
“What’s wrong?” You asked with a clear intention behind those words.
“It’s cold,” he answered. "I missed your warmth," he added, his voice a low murmur that carries the weight of unspoken feelings. "It's cold without you."
You swallow hard, the words catching a lump in your throat. "I couldn't sleep," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just needed some tea.”
Joel steps closer, the dim light casting shadows on his face. "I know things have been... different lately. Distant. I don't want it to be like this."
Here it comes: another lie to cage you.
You look down at your tea, the steam swirling like confusion in your mind. You look down at your tea, the steam swirling like confusion in your mind.
“Do you love me?” you asked.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Of course I love you.” He assured you. “Life just got complicated, I guess. Work, responsibilities... but that's no excuse. I've let us drift apart, and I'm sorry."
You meet his eyes, searching for the truth in them. "I miss us," you admit, your voice breaking. "I miss what we had."
Joel reached out, his hand warm as it covered yours. Promising something without evoking words, as if his touch would be able to evoke the fire you used to feel when his hand touched your skin.
“You can go back to bed,” you said, breaking the suffocating silence settled between the two of you. “I’ll drink my tea first.”
Joel hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll be upstairs if you need me."
You watched him walk back up the stairs, each step heavy with the weight of unspoken promises and unresolved tensions. The quiet in the kitchen seemed even more profound after he left. You took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the tea seep into your hands, trying to find comfort in its simplicity.
The minutes stretched on as you sipped your tea, your thoughts swirling like the steam rising from the cup. When the tea was gone, you washed the cup and placed it on the counter, taking one last moment to collect yourself before heading back upstairs.
When you entered the bedroom, Joel was already lying on his side of the bed, his back to you. You slipped under the covers; the sheets cooled against your skin. You turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The silence felt different now—less oppressive and more like a blank canvas waiting to be filled.
You settled into your usual spot, leaving a small gap between you and Joel. But before you could close your eyes, you felt him shift. He turned towards you, his arms reaching out and wrapping around your middle. It was a tentative embrace, but it was the first sign of love he had shown you in a while.
Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the familiar warmth of his body against yours. You relaxed into his hold, feeling the weight of his arm around you and the steady beat of his heart against your back.
"I miss this," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the darkness.
You placed your hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I miss it too," you replied softly.
In the quiet of the night, wrapped in Joel's arms, you felt a flicker of hope. The path to healing and rediscovering each other would be long, but in that moment, you both took a step towards it.
The next morning, you woke up feeling the absence of Joel's warmth beside you. The space where he had lain was cool, and the sheets were undisturbed. You rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, and sat up. As you looked around the room, you noticed Joel at the foot of the bed, quietly packing a suitcase.
A pang of confusion and worry shot through you. "Joel?" you called softly, your voice still heavy with sleep. "What's going on?"
Joel looked up, his expression a mix of guilt and resignation. "I'm leaving for the conference," he said, zipping up the suitcase with a firm pull.
Your heart sank. "What?" you asked, trying to make sense of the situation. "You didn't tell me you had a conference."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know. I’m sorry. It came up last minute, and I didn't want to worry you."
"But you're just leaving now? Without saying anything until now?" The hurt in your voice was palpable, the sense of déjà vu from last night's conversation lingering in the air.
Joel's eyes softened with regret. "I should have told you sooner. I didn't handle it well. I'm going with my boss, and we'll be back in a few days."
Your mind raced, trying to process his words. "Going with your boss? Why didn't you tell me about this before?" You knew he was saying the truth, and you had come to the conclusion that all the affection he showed you last night was pretending to ease you.
He hesitated, the silence stretching uncomfortably. "It’s been hectic at work, and honestly, I didn't want to add more stress to everything."
You stood up, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to shield against the emotional chill. "We talked last night about making more time for each other, and now you're leaving without a word."
Joel stepped closer, reaching out to touch your arm. "I know, and I promise we'll talk more when I get back. I want to work on us, really."
You pulled back slightly, searching his eyes for sincerity. "I hope to be here for when you come back.”
"Don’t be like this, please," Joel replied, his voice tinged with regret. "I don't want to lose you, not after everything."
You forced a small smile, though it felt hollow. "Just be honest with me, Joel. About everything."
He nodded, his expression earnest. "I will. I promise."
With a heavy heart, you watched as Joel gathered his things and headed for the door. As it closed behind him, the emptiness of the house seemed to swallow you whole. You sank onto the couch, feeling lost and alone in the wake of his departure.
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As the minutes stretched into hours, you found yourself unable to shake the nagging feeling of doubt that had settled in the pit of your stomach. Joel's sudden departure, coupled with his vague explanations, left you feeling unsettled and suspicious.
You paced the empty rooms of the house, your thoughts spiraling out of control. What if Joel wasn't really at a conference? What if he was with her and the secretary you knew had feelings for him?
The mere thought sent a surge of anger and betrayal coursing through you. You had noticed the way she looked at Joel and the way she always seemed to find excuses to be near him. And now, with Joel gone on this supposed trip, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
You grabbed your phone, your fingers trembling as you scrolled through your contacts. Should you call him? Text him?
But before you could make a decision, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. The lack of sleep, coupled with the emotional turmoil of the morning, left you feeling drained and defeated.
You sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. Tears threatened to spill over, but you fought to hold them back. You couldn't let yourself fall apart, not now.
As you sat on the couch, overwhelmed by exhaustion and emotion, a sudden surge of determination washed over you. You couldn't just sit there, stewing in your doubts and fears. You needed answers, and you needed them now.
With trembling hands, you grabbed your phone and quickly searched for Joel's location. Your heart pounded in your chest as the GPS map pinpointed his whereabouts—an upscale hotel here in the city, not at all where he had claimed to be.
The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. Joel wasn't at a conference. He was right here, in the same city as you, but he had lied to you.
You were someone who, until recently, he had shared secrets with, and now he was keeping them from you.
Despite the exhaustion and emotional turmoil, a fierce determination burned within you to confront him and demand answers.
With shaky hands, you dialed a taxi, your mind racing with a mixture of anger, hurt, and disbelief. How could Joel, someone you had shared your deepest secrets with, now keep such a significant secret from you?
As you waited for the taxi to arrive, the minutes felt like hours, each passing second amplifying the turmoil within you. But you refused to let the uncertainty consume you. You needed to know the truth, even if it shattered the facade of your relationship.
Finally, the taxi pulled up outside your house, and you climbed inside, the anticipation building with every passing moment. The ride to the hotel felt interminable, the streets passing by in a blur as your thoughts swirled in a tempest of emotion.
When you arrived, you paid the fare and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The cool night air was a sharp contrast to the heat of your anger. The imposing facade of the hotel loomed before you, a silent witness to the unfolding drama of your life.
As you entered the lobby of the hotel, your heart raced with anticipation and anxiety. You couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal that gnawed at you, driving you forward with a relentless need for answers.
Just as you were about to approach the reception desk to inquire about Joel's room, your phone buzzed in your pocket. With trembling hands, you retrieved it, seeing Joel's name flashing on the screen.
For a moment, you hesitated, your thumb hovering over the answer button. But then, steeling yourself for whatever confrontation awaited you, you pressed accept.
"Hello?" you said, your voice betraying none of the turmoil raging within you.
"Hey, babe," Joel's voice came through the line, sounding casual and unconcerned. "Just checking in. How’s Sarah? How's your evening going?"
Your grip tightened on the phone, anger bubbling up inside you at his nonchalant tone. "She is good; everything is fine," you replied tersely. "Just fine."
Joel seemed oblivious to your tone as he continued to chatter about the conference, complaining about how boring it was and how tedious it was to spend time with his boss.
As he prattled on, your mind raced with conflicting emotions. On one hand, his words seemed to confirm his alibi—unless, of course, he was lying through his teeth. On the other hand, his casual dismissal of your concerns only fueled your suspicions.
When he finally paused to take a breath, you seized the opportunity to interject. "Joel, where are you right now?"
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and you held your breath, waiting for his response.
"I'm still at the conference," he said finally, his voice tinged with confusion. "Why? What's going on?"
You clenched your jaw, trying to keep your composure. "I see," you said through gritted teeth. "Well, have fun at your conference, Joel. Goodbye."
As you sat in the lobby, the minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity. Doubt gnawed at you, eating away at your resolve as you questioned whether you had been mistaken about Joel's whereabouts. Maybe he really was at the conference, and you were letting your suspicions get the better of you.
Just as you were about to give up and leave, your gaze drifted toward the entrance of the hotel. And there, walking through the doors, was Joel, his arm wrapped around the waist of his secretary, her laughter echoing in the cavernous lobby.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you watched them, your heart plummeting to the pit of your stomach. You felt like you had been punched in the gut, the air knocked out of your lungs as the truth stared you in the face.
Joel's eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, his face went white as if he had seen a ghost. You felt a surge of anger and betrayal wash over you, your knees threatening to give out beneath you.
As the truth of Joel's betrayal hit you like a freight train, panic seized hold of you, squeezing your chest in a vice-like grip. The world seemed to spin around you, and you struggled to catch your breath as waves of nausea washed over you.
One of the receptionists noticed your distress and hurried over to offer assistance. "Are you alright, miss? Can I help you?" they asked, their voice laced with concern.
You could only shake your head, unable to form coherent words as tears welled up in your eyes.
But before you could fully process what was happening, Joel appeared, his face etched with panic and concern. "Hey, hey, hey, are you okay?" he exclaimed, rushing to your side and reaching out to steady you.
Your heart twisted at the sight of him, the betrayal stabbing at you like a knife. "Don't touch me," you choked out, recoiling from his touch as if it burned.
Tears streamed down your cheeks, unchecked and unbidden, as you struggled to find the words to convey the depth of your anguish. "How could you?" you whispered, your voice breaking with pain. "How could you do this to me?"
His eyes widened in realization, and for a moment, you saw the flicker of guilt and regret flash across his features. "I can explain," he began, but you couldn't bear to hear his excuses.
The pain was too raw and overwhelming, and you felt like you were drowning in a sea of hurt and confusion. With trembling limbs, you pushed yourself to your feet, shaking off Joel's attempts to console you as you stumbled towards the exit.
"I need to get out of here," you muttered, your voice hollow and distant as you fled from the scene of your heartbreak.
As you stumbled towards the exit, Joel's voice followed you, pleading and desperate. "Wait, please, just let me explain," he called out, his footsteps echoing in the empty lobby as he chased after you.
But you couldn't bear to listen to his excuses; you couldn't stand the sight of him after his betrayal. Anger bubbled up within you, a fierce fire burning away the remnants of the love you had once felt for him.
When you reached the cool night air outside, you turned to face him, your chest heaving with emotion. "Explain?" you spat, the word bitter on your tongue. "What could you possibly say to justify this?"
Joel's expression was a mask of guilt and regret as he reached out to touch your arm, but you jerked away from him, the sting of his betrayal still fresh in your mind. "I made a mistake," he began, his voice pleading. "I never meant to hurt you."
"You never meant to hurt me?" You scoffed, incredulous. "You lied to me, Joel. You betrayed my trust and our relationship. How could you think that wouldn't hurt me?"
He took a step closer, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I know I messed up, but please give me a chance to make it right. I love you, and I'll do whatever it takes to fix this."
But his words fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the roar of anger and pain that filled your mind. "I don't want to hear it," you spat. “I gave you six years of my life to you!” you sobbed. “Six years wasted on you, you fucking asshole!” you began to hit in the chest.
With a surge of emotion, you lashed out, your fists pounding against his chest with a force fueled by years of love and betrayal. Each blow was a release, a cathartic expression of the pain and anger that consumed you.
But even as you struck out at him, the tears streaming down your face, you knew that no amount of violence could erase the pain of his betrayal. And as Joel stood before you, his face contorted with remorse, you realized that the love you had once felt for him was now nothing more than a bitter memory.
With tears still staining your cheeks, you turned away from Joel, your heart heavy with the weight of his betrayal. Every step felt like a struggle as you made your way back home, the echoes of your confrontation with Joel still ringing in your ears.
As you entered the familiar surroundings of your home, you felt a sense of overwhelming exhaustion wash over you. But there was no time to rest, no respite from the storm of emotions raging within you.
With a heavy sigh, you began to gather your belongings, each item a painful reminder of the life you had built with Joel. Your hands trembled as you packed your clothes and personal effects, the tears flowing freely as you grappled with the reality of your shattered dreams.
In the midst of your turmoil, the sound of the door opening drew your attention, and you turned to see Joel standing in the doorway, his face a mask of desperation and remorse. "Please, don't leave," he pleaded, his voice breaking with emotion. "I'm sorry; I'll do anything to make things right."
But you couldn't bring yourself to look at him; you couldn't bear to see the pain and betrayal reflected in his eyes. With a heavy heart, you turned away, focusing on the task at hand as you continued to pack your things.
Suddenly, a voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, and you looked up to see Sarah standing in the doorway, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
But before you could respond, Joel stepped forward, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "Sarah, we had a disagreement," he began, his voice thick with emotion. "But I'll do whatever it takes to make things right."
You hesitated, unsure of how to explain the situation to her, but you squared your shoulders and turned to face Joel and Sarah. "I'm leaving," you said, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions raging within you. "I need some time to figure things out, but I'll always be here for Sarah.”
With that, you gathered your belongings and made your way to the door, leaving behind the shattered remnants of the life you had once known. As you stepped out into the night, the weight of your decision hung heavy around you, but deep down, you knew that it was the only choice you could make.
As you stepped outside, the cool night air washed over you, but there was no relief from the turmoil raging within. Joel's footsteps echoed behind you, his desperate pleas falling on deaf ears as you continued to walk away.
"Please, just listen to me," Joel begged, his voice thick with emotion.
But you couldn't bear to hear his words; you couldn't stand the sight of him after his betrayal. With a surge of anger and frustration, you whirled around to face him, your hand connecting with his cheek in a sharp slap.
The sound of the slap echoed in the stillness of the night, a resounding declaration of your pain and betrayal. Joel staggered back, his hand flying to his stinging cheek as he stared at you in shock.
"How dare you?" You spat, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. "How dare you come after me, after what you've done?"
You turned away from Joel, refusing to let him see the depth of your pain. Without another word, you continued to walk away, leaving him standing alone in the darkness.
As you disappeared into the night, the sting of your slap still lingering on his cheek, Joel knew that he had lost you for good.
Your prayers have been answered by God.
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littlestickfish · 7 months ago
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I did not have enough space in the tags to fully elaborate, but I believe that free will is a thing, and it is a thing that is distinct from the influence of divine spark, or what one might otherwise describe as divine will, and these things can and should exist together.
And it isn't exclusive to people who are put in your path for spiritual growth either, like the examples in my tags, sometimes it's just to empower you to bring something helpful to someone else.
1. Act of will (my dad): texts me asking to grab lunch
2. Act of will (me): yes
3. Act of will (my dad): tells me in a random conversation about coffee* about kittytowncoffee.com, which sells coffee benefiting rescue cats
4. Act of will (somebody on tumblr): posts bongo.cat
5. Act of will (somebody I follow): reblogs bongo.cat
6. Act of will (my brother): texts me to let me know his kitty of several years has died
7. Relevant helpful acts of will now available to me: commiserate, buy him a bag of coffee that just so happens to be titled after a cat with the same name** as a memorial, text him bongo.cat
*(bonus hidden act of will: my participation in the Starbucks boycott, prompting me to learn how to make coffee my own damn self)
**(bonus bonus hidden act of will: somebody at Kittytown Coffee deciding Sydney was a cat name worthy of its own coffee blend)
The divine confluence of these myriad decisions has no bearing on our capacity to make them by ourselves. Rather, it serves to maximize their effect. This function, this influence, and the direction of it - a loving, growing direction - is divine love in action.
please do elaborate in the tags
#full disclosure#this came on the heels of like 7 posts about some guy named will wood#and i legit wondered if we had a free Britney situation on our hands with that dude#but yeah free will is absolutely a thing#i think divine spark anticipates sometimes#and networks of decisions and people making them form#i have the free will to for example cut most all my ties with the rcc#i have the free will to remain invested in my faith#i have the free will to get a job working the power wash#so does the itinerant preacher who was my coworker#our will is our own#sometimes divine spark arranges for us to spawn in the most beneficial and enlightening parts of our lives#which might mean i should have pushed the nuance button?#because i 100% legit believe esso was sent to me as a prophet#through the serendipitous merging of our wills with the direction of the divine spark#but the reason i believe free will is a thing#is that what is meant by our being created in God's image does not mean god has 10 fingers and 10 toes#it means that of all the ascendant animals in creation#the ability to create alone belongs to humans#im not talking about complex language or use of tools#which have been documented in various intelligent animals#i mean our ability to make worlds and animals and people through creative arts#writing drawing sculpting what have you#and to truly create you must first have free will#to get further into what i mean with me and esso#every single decision we made was our own#but WHEN and WHERE we made those decisions i believe was the arrangement of divine spark#what some call serendipity#when independent events converge to bring about a growth result
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