#there are probably other ones I missed but these are the ones I remember loving the most

[defmaybe]

Mistake

NewJeans' Kim Minji (Angst) & NMIXX's Oh Haewon (Smut) x Male Reader

15.4k words

Some discussions of suicide

A/N: A few things before going in:

This is essentially an unedited, raw first draft. Expect an insane amount of errors and self-indulgent metaphors.

It's also unfinished in parts.

Still, I do genuinely hope that you enjoy this!

Thanks to Tyler and and Summer for putting me on the right track of being a writer!

Big inspirations from Caps' Departure, Nichu's Where Our Blue Is, Ddeun's Our Love Language is Sex, and Challengers

—

Prologue

—

Mistake all the time, You’re my mistake all the time, yeah

Mistake all the time, I’m your mistake all the time, yeah

—

You realized that you’ve never possessed the creative calibre as much as a writer should’ve had. Perhaps it’s appropriate that you’ve never pursued it as your major career. You read all these stories, and you knew that you just can’t come up with these plots. You don’t know how to do character developments, hell, you can barely write dialogues. The way people talk in real life remains a mystery to you. So, it’s probably for the best that you’re in engineering.

Though, it just takes a mistake to change it all. Many stories start with a catastrophe, a turning point, or something that puts the protagonist on their journey. So, here you are, you have a story right in front of you, so should it be transformed into something commendable? award-worthy? a selfish portrayal of what’s supposed to be just a passage of life? The goal of it doesn’t really matter much (though some recognition would be nice); you just had to write it out.

—

You don’t know how much time you have for this. Everyone has been telling you it should be long enough for the forgiveness to be ready, but you’ve also been wondering whether, if that day comes, it would be too long that the cadence won’t strike you as pristine as before.

Though, it hadn’t stopped you from fantasizing how this encounter would play out. You’d say something witty with a chuckle, and she’d smile back, or even better, a laugh. Both of you would see the separation as some childish actions of the past. The two of you would go back to where you were: grief-stricken, exhausted, scared high school students. 

The sunlight would force you to retreat to some cafe during the afternoon, letting you two trade stories between the gaps. And as the sun sets, you’d sit beside her in some park, laid back a bit, hands on the grass to offer some balance. She’d do the same. Then your hearts would slowly be reconnected with each other, hoping to reclaim solace missing in the separation, as if you are the only two people on earth.

Firstly though, those events would have to be triggered by your words. And despite thousands of days of you trying to perfect every syllable, they just conveniently stuck in your throat. This isn’t what you’ve been readying yourself for. Awestruck and powerless is an understatement, and no tests have ever made you feel so drowned in your gargantuan number of thoughts.

You cannot say a word to her, and there may not be any second chance for this.

You are her mistake, and you’ll always be.

–

One: About You

–

There was something ‘bout you that now I can’t remember

It’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender

And I miss you on a train, I miss you in the morning

I never know what to think about

–

I like you

What

I like you! Like do you wanna go out on a date?

(Seen)

It isn’t the longest silence you’ll experience with her, let alone with someone else, fourteen years on earth won’t give much of an insight to you, but it’s enough for you to know what she’s going to say next.

I’m sorry

Regret in her words bled through the pixels. 

But I just see you as a friend

Being on text messages takes out the awkwardness a bit, but that doesn’t help transform the dagger, really.

Kim Min-Ji, your entire relationship was based on this encounter, and that three-week phase of some bullet crush upon entering a new school preceding this. You were charmed by a girl’s look, and then no one can compete with that.

You had found her face appealing, then you fantasized your whole life with her. One thing led to another, and you were head over heels for her in just a week. 

Nowhere that you haven’t gone with her in your head: a date at an American diner—drinking milkshakes, a trip to the theater—watching some schlocky romance and cringing when the couple on the screen are kissing each other, and the most ambitious one: marriage, she’s smiling, everyone you’ve ever known is surrounding you, cheering as you are leaning in for a kiss.

Too bad you didn’t have a backup plan if it failed.

Consequences of the rejection had you decompressing every, single, thing you’ve been admiring about her to your friends, yeah, the same ones. You treated that as if it was the end of the world. 

It was quite a phase, and you inevitably got closer to those people. They were slowly fading away eventually, one by one, but at least, at that moment, you felt like there’s someone listening to you.

While the dagger stuck, you kept eluding her, avoiding eye contact as you were walking past each other. You had to let her know you were hurt. God, that shit looked so damn petty in retrospect.

It was a month later when the heartbreak dissipated, and both of you decided that the next three years cannot be spent evading each other. (To be honest, it’s mostly just for you to stop being weird.) A nod was all it took, and that probably was a lot better than having her as a girlfriend.

–

She wants you to live on your life, separately

Being on text messages (and having it delivered through a friend) takes out the cruelty a bit, but that doesn’t help transform the dagger, really.

It started with just some petty acts, a crude joke. Then, just over a month later, you deleted every single picture of her, almost five years of them. It wasn’t a hard thing to do when you were so deep in melancholy, just a few minutes after a friend brought the breakup message to you. 

You thought you had to block her everywhere. But with every step taken to create some distance from her, those actions just, somehow, create unending echoes tormenting you.

Why

You really wanted to fix this; you really fucking did. You’ve never wanted it to end, even when you sent some faux, response-seeking farewell messages after days of waiting for her confirmation of how she felt, just to have her come and reply about the exam she was having just a few minutes later.

Are you gonna send something to her again if you know?

But even with her crying emojis, you were relentless with your replies. I fucking hate you still echoes to this day. It shaped how you see yourself: a selfish, yet codependent, self-indulgent, unlovable person. Even with the apology texts you sent a few weeks later (which she never saw), those four words were tattooed on you.

I won’t

You wished you could, but this answer seemed to be the way to satisfy her.

Think about it

Like all those years

What have you done to her

It was supposed to end with your first apology text, when she called herself an asshole over it. Then, you became one yourself. It turned out that reading only the preview message doesn’t give you the full picture, so you paid the price just a month later. You replied to that, then you waited. And with how God made you so insecure, you thought she wanted it to end after a week you took to reply.

You had problems.

It’ll all be okay

Someday

Looking at your friend’s text, you sighed, knowing that you can only let fate and time lead you to it.

–

You were nothing more than a friend. She sure loved you, just not in the way one would perceive as romantic. There were kind words, there was thoughtful advice, there were chatting deep into a lot of nights. 

Any form of physical contact though, you brought it up in some conversations (which one eventually being the spark that burned it all), were always quickly suppressed by her. So, there you were, having her as a friend, and the bar for where your future girlfriends should be.

hey

need some advice rn

uh huh

there’s this guy

send me his pic

alright wait a sec

[photo]

my god

what

okay yeah I know why he’s a big deal

fuck auto caps on I again

fuck

just turn it off in the settings lol

thanks

[Replied to: okay yeah I know why he’s a big deal] ikr

[Replied to: thanks] no prob

so

how is it with him

As it was flourishing, there were times that you wished for it to be as easy as a kiss and a happily ever after, with how well-gelled you’ve always been together. But the distance between you is just too much. 

You can’t conveniently visit her on every other weekend, while she really didn’t want to close the distance from being a close friend (or as you would think to yourself later: “our love may not coincide at the same time”). So, there you were, you became each other’s advisor for those times you’ve had.

–

All of what you saw as confidential: all the vibrations of your heart, all the tears running down your cheeks when alone, all the ties you cut and formed, as any teenager would do, was at last, delivered to your parents, at the age you didn’t think it was possible for such change. 

You didn’t expect that your parents would take it well, with how you’ve withheld everything for the last half decade, reducing every answer to their questions into a binary set consisting of yes and no. But as they’ve always been, they didn’t leave you in the dark.

You pleaded guilty to all of it – how you were wretched inside. How she became so much to you, how you took everything she says as an oath, how her jokes lit up a smile on your face every time, and how they still haunt you, to this day, keeps you from initiating any new, proper relationship with someone. 

They kept coming back, even if you thought time would slowly fade them away. The minor details, yes, but the bigger ones are still having free shots on you every now and then.

The first few months were difficult. Bed seemed to be the best place you could’ve been, lying down, your fingers sliding reels after reels for god knows how long. Though, it hits you, years of being alone, walling people out was detrimental to you. It starts with some small repairs: story replies to disconnected peers, dates with your close friends, more exposure to your family. 

You seek connections, desperately, to fill up the hole she once occupied. You took too many side jobs aside from the grueling university classes, and to be honest, you did meet a lot of new people in the next semester, even more than you did in the last two or three years here.

The space though, five years of freestyle carving put it into this twisted, incomprehensible, harrowing state in which all the adjectives in the world aren’t enough to define the shape of its former owner. How every fibre of your existence was tied to her was, as seen from outside, sad. 

Sure, it’s not wrong to let someone into your life, but with this extent – thousands of words to pry out a response - it just reeks codependency in retrospect.

It took some time, and a bunch of people, to cover up the space. You never quite make it like it was; there’s always a hole somewhere, and you can still see the footprints she left on you through it.

How you tell people close to you, most of the time, is that there was a fight - one you started. Then you were being a bitch for too long, and by the time you returned, she put you out of the picture. You added some bits of how you were dependent on her for your heartaches, how you treated her like shit for years, how you sent waves of messages that she didn’t reply because she was busy, how you said you hated her, only to retract and regret it a few days later, then it all ended.

It could be some way of unearthing emotional vulnerability under that “cold” façade - as often pointed out by your friends, which you deflected as crippling social anxiety. You thought people would trust you more if you decided to tell them how you succumbed to those inner demons. It works most of the time.

You told them that you cried to some K-pop song that you can only understand like two lines. 

You told them how you tried to recover the photos with some external program not a week later. 

You told them, with an otherworldly consistency, that it’s your fault, never hers. 

You told them you’d send something a year later, as an apology, to return to where you once were.

You told them that you might crumble again if the response is anything but a warm embrace.

Your taped-up heart remained intact when the day came, having your friends around and such after a year of reconstruction, and you surrendered to the fact that you really can’t do much more than a guilt-ridden text. But it’s not easy at all to watch “Sent just now” become “yesterday”, then “last week”, then “last month” slowly unfold. Then you knew that your strength just cannot handle this; cadence can’t exist with a single note.

It took you back to that day, when the future was just this black, unbounded, silent yet serene space. Times where every knife suddenly became alluring, heights weren't what you were afraid of anymore, the next trip to a pharmacist might be a deathtrap.

This eternal apathy: it was tempting to give in to it – to just leave all of these behind. Yet, you weren’t so sure to give yourself such an ending. People won’t like it, or do they? A lot of stories saw their main characters to their ends, no matter which way it would be. And to be fair, a lot of them became cult classics. You weren’t so sure which would be the right ending for yours.

–

Two: Now That We Don’t Talk

–

You grew your hair long, you got new icons

And from the outside, it looks like you’re trying lives on

–

One advice you took from your therapist is to keep journaling your emotions, each day. And even with the poor self-discipline, whether in a book or a journal, you carved your grimaces, laughters, and tears into words. But perhaps that became too customary. And as time passes, you find the storyteller side of yours magnetized outwards. So, there you were, in front of your old laptop, nibbling on the dagger.

–

Your plane landed in Tokyo mere hours ago. It was a few days after your sophomore year finals. You were paying for your inability to sleep with the shaking cabin, and it was just nine (Tokyo Standard Time) in the morning. Your eyes went dry, and you can feel the irregular beats of your heart. The sleeping pills from your psychiatrist can’t handle the excitement of getting on a plane, especially if it’s to Tokyo.

It’s cold, spring cold. Snow is nowhere to be seen, but your tropical genes are already shaken with a small breeze. You excused yourself from your family for some minutes outside the airport, to get some air for alertness.

The train would depart in an hour, but with the risk-averse nature of your parents, you had only 20 minutes to snap a few photos around Narita. You quickly pace yourself against the crowd, to the outside. You strode through the arrivals terminal, before reaching the automated door, finally catching the air. And it’s cold, spring cold.

It was cloudy, yet the sun was bright enough to deflect your vision away from the matter of protecting it. You pick up your camera to snap a few photos, testing the recipes you had looked up from home. And god, wasn’t Japan so pretty?

But maybe it’s the wind, maybe it’s the temperature, maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, you’re drawn to her, again. It was just over a month ago since the incident. Yet miles away from your parents’ car, when Minji had her dagger delivered through your phone, and as the distance grew, you realized that it’s poisoned.

Should I check my block-list?

It echoes, even if you had no reason to do it. And you gave in, under that spring air: cold, dry, unrelenting, merciless.

You took a seat by a slanted cream walkway outside. A man was sitting across from you. He looked up, before going back onto his phone, nonchalant to your presence, and it’s like you could complain about it.

And immediately, you take out your phone, so eager to check your blocked accounts.

She changed her profile picture into something that you can’t even make sense of: her. Even under the face of the drawn character, you could feel her radiate through your screen. Locals and tourists are still marching towards their destination, either into the city, or a plane, unbeknownst to your internal collapse. It’s probably the way your face is always the same - concealing the tears so well - cheerful or devastated.

She moved on from you: her old persona shed, bio rewritten, era changed. Yet there you were, at least a sea away, crumbled into pieces.

Perhaps it was time for you to shed a new shell.

–

“Minji will be here too!” One of your friends said.

It was the first time you had a sleepover at your friends’ apartment. Alcohols were, of course, involved. A bit of drunk chatting with your friends and walking around helped with the university-induced depression, which you, then freshman, naively dismissed as a normal thing. Then, you heard she would come for some lunch before you go back to the mundane routine you got yourself into.

“Heyyyyy.” You shouted into the room as soon as the apartment’s door was closed. She was sitting on the sofa in the middle of your friends’ studio-sized room.

“Hey!” She seemed to look different from her high school days, crimson on her lips, longer eyelashes, paler cheeks. She wears makeup now, and you wouldn’t lie that it took you by surprise - how beautiful she was. It may have been contributed to the fact that you had just six hours of sleep the night before, but she was gorgeous that day, breathtaking even.

“God, I miss you so much.” You said, sitting down beside her on the couch, while looking over the screen of her ancient phone.

“Awww, thanks babe.” Minji blew you a kiss, irony, to which you happily caught. 

“Long trip?” You asked, knowing how far she is from the city.

“Hour and a half.” She murmured.

“Sorry about that.” You chuckled, laying your back on the couch. It’s a display of your insufferable narcissism as usual, a humble smugness.

Your friends were too busy on their phones, waiting for a member to finish his shower before taking a trip into the city.

“No need, I’m here to see you.” Minji beams.

“Thanks, Minji.”

Not that you haven’t seen love blooming in front of you before, it’s just that you can’t grow the petals to display your stern sentiment. It has been, to say the least, difficult for you to express any tinge of compassion.

–

“ROMEO TAKE ME SOMEWHERE WE CAN BE ALONE, I’LL BE WAITING ALL THERE’S LEFT TO DO IS RUN.”

It’s only the two of you screaming between the other guys in the karaoke room. Even if it’s Taylor fucking Swift, she still seems to be threaded just between you two.

“YOU’LL BE THE PRINCE AND I’LL BE THE PRINCESS, IT’S A LOVE STORY BABY JUST SAY YES.”

You were pointing to each other, with others baffled by how enthusiastic you were.

Both of you kept going like wannabe singers until the end.

“WE WERE BOTH YOUNG, WHEN I FIRST SAWWWWW YOU.”

And the song ends, leaving only you two sharing the only spotlights in the room.

“Minji, fuck, god, that was great,” you panted, trying to catch your breath after screaming Love Story.

“You should thank me for listening to only English songs,” she scoffs, smiling at you.

You attempted to make a cute face, sarcastically. “Thanks, Miss Kim.”

“It’s my job to listen to Taylor Swift for you.” She bowed and smiled.

It’s always the irony-infused conversations, but deep down, you know you could trust her, at least once you do. So many of your problems were solved by her. Just tell them directly, just do this, just do that. And if you didn’t even want to, she’d take your place to show how competent in the field she is, just for you.

As your friends continue with the songs you two can’t capture the lyrics, you slid yourself towards her. “So, how’s the med school?”

She finds the words to answer the completed question for a while. Your other friends are still screaming their lungs out. “It… fucking sucks, yeah, it beat my ass back to high school.” She’d frowned at her script.

“I guess so, I shouldn’t have asked, even. We should talk about light things instead, I’m sor—”

“Don’t be.” Minji cut you off. “It’s fine, I needed a place to vent, anyway.”

The mood, again, swung into glee along with the background. “Oh, so what, Miss Kim, you’re going to use me as your personal venting tool now?”

As if you predicted your future.

“I might, if it doesn’t get better.” She’d snickered at her own comment.

Your expression softens to sympathy. “Well, I’m here. Miss Kim, Go ahead.”

“Really? We can chat about this later, to be fair” She negotiated your offer, not wanting to ruin the mood.

You pondered for a moment, as the song came to an end. “I suppose so, wanna pick the song?”

Minji smiled. “Sure.”

It was these small moments that you kept digging up, even if it is surrounded by smiles and laughs. I wasn’t kind enough to her. I said the wrong things. I was selfish. And it slowly grew into something far more sinister. I am a bad person.

–

“Okay, I’ll post this and tag you all.”

After the group selfie, it was time for you to go back to your regular depression-inducing activities at university.

“I have to get going now. I have class tomorrow morning.” Slightly annoyed by the time restraint, it’s evening now.

“Don’t forget to tag me~” Minji would speak out, playfully, a façade for the fear of being excluded.

“What if I do?” You pointed a finger to your chin.

“I’ll block you, that’s what I’d do”

“Aww, I’d be so sad.” You sarcastically pouted, before giving a farewell, “Bye, babe. Bye, everyone.”, waving.

“See ya.”

That was the last time you’d see her face.

Upon reelings, you can only recall the words as a vague, half-hearted goodbye. Oh how you felt so secure with her back then you just gave some shitty farewell, unbeknownst to how it would stick with you as her final image of you – the fact that has been gripping you tightly ever since.

–

Maybe, in a way, it is to broadcast the insides of your heart to the world. It’s always been what you do best. You found yourself sitting down in front of your laptop, pondering on the word choices. You were walking on a minefield of words, avoiding repetitions that would make your readers groan at such occurrences.

It could’ve been easy - the one who left was the villain, and the one who found you is the typical manic pixie dream girl any man would want. You would boast it when you meet her again, saying something along the lines of “I won the breakup.”, or “Guess who’s crying now.”. It’s quippy, snarky, made-ready, and gives some sense of revenge to the readers, and to you.

It’s not hard to give in to the waning under the half-lit moon; the vengeance is too alluring. Still, perhaps it was that single, small spot in the dark sky - the one that keeps on flickering a signal. And it was decrypted into the ending you didn’t want, acceptance, even if the creeping clouds are slowly curtaining the sky. The star keeps on flickering, to guide you.

And you followed it. The piece didn’t get as much recognition as you’d like, as the grudges were, even if partly, let go, and only mentioned as your thorns. Yet, that day, those spikes were shed, for a new shell to form to protect you from your own hatred.

–

Three: Feels Like

–

Met you at the right time

This is what it feels like

–

You were told that it’s going to be some kind of joint committee between universities. And so, as one of the chosen, you are here, in such rare occasions of being in a suit. It’s tiring - you just got off from your senior project, internship is approaching in a week, right after the Christmas holidays. Yet, being given a few activity hours from your university isn’t a bad offer at the time.

Some classical music you’ve never bothered to look their names up were sent through speakers; they probably couldn’t afford a real band. The grandiose, dimly blue-tinted-lit hall was occupied by hundreds of representatives. Waiters were walking back and forth to corporate demands for the food and drinks. The sounds from all kinds of conversations are lighting this ball up. It’s, from a whim, lively for now.

As always, you felt out of place here. You’ve never been the type that would slot into a conversation with ease. Every word you say might be interpreted as an insult, a showboating of your dull wit. So, silence seemed to be the best choice here. You can’t have people see you as some lowly, dense, out-of-place ordinary guy.

You kept checking your watch, anxiously, it should have been eleven when you were to leave, and time gets slower on purpose. Words around you were slowly, but surely on its way to push you to your edge. There were a couple of people from your university too, just that they were nowhere to be seen. Maybe they are in the toilet? Maybe they can talk to strangers? Maybe they don’t want to be around you?

With every second ticked, an uneasy feeling crept up your body with confidence, eager to take control. Your eyes were stuck to your phone, with right thumb swiping short videos after another. Each one elicited a dopamine shot to keep the shadows at bay, but it could do just that. You know this stuff is going to shave off your attention span bit by bit, but not faltering in front of everyone now just matters more.

Until-

“Sorry.” A stark, yet tender voice shook you, despite its message. You expected someone to come take you into their company, but it’s still a long way to go to get rid of this shell.

You turned your head back until she’s in your vision. A short-haired woman stood before you, around your age; her lips formed a weak grin. Her left hand was holding an empty plate, though with a few hints of red velvet’s frosting on it. “Can I have some more cake?”

Her right hand was in her blazer pocket.

You realized you had been standing in front of the cake stand for the last fifteen minutes. Fuck, this is embarrassing. You immediately moved away from the front table. What if I was seen as some fucker guarding all those cakes?

“What’s with that face?” 

“Uh—uh—” Being heavy in your thoughts can sometimes send some erratic, unwanted instructions to your facial features. This Fuck, this is embarrassing ordered the classic eyebrow squints, and a slight mouth frown.

“Are you seriously getting mad because I told you to move a bit?”

Ok, ok, shit, what the fuck is happening now. You were lost, failed to come up with a response. Those doe eyes were sure to be flammable with how you can feel trickles of sweat on your forehead now. First, you were all by yourself in what’s supposed to be a networking opportunity, and then this. This is how you are going to be viewed by these people now, an entitled, selfish asshole. A real chance pulled away from a single mistimed expr—

She pulled you back with her contagious simper. “I’m sorry. I was j—” She broke into another chain of laughter; there’s no reservation in those, like at all. “I was just fucking with you.” She put her right hand to cover her gaping mouth, while swaying her upper half back and forth like it was the funniest shit she has ever pulled. 

You may have just felt the largest absolute emotional slope in your life - it doesn’t really matter in terms of good or bad, just closest to being a straight line. You let out a shaken sigh, then, without knowing, you can’t help but start laughing with her in unison.

“God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect you to be s–so anxious about that.” The hilarity subsided, as she was starting to regain her composure.

You replied with some remnants of the previous guffawing. “It’s fi—ha, ha, it’s fine.” Still taking in what’s just happened.

You finally got a proper look at her. And on that exact night you first met, she wore a gray blazer, perfectly compatible with her decent height, just a few inches shorter than you – did she get it tailored? The navy wide-leg pants she had on her really gave her this “young and rising executive” look. Her short hair was a bit messy, probably from all the walking and talking she had while finishing that poor red velvet cake. 

Her nose was supposed to be the part that had you gawked, with how its bridge was flawlessly sculpted while still fitting with every other part on her face. And with the crimson lipstick on her plump lips, those features alone, perhaps, had Aphrodite working overtime. 

Then, just a bit above those, her hazel eyes, the ones that will have you gladly trapped in it for hours. The sunsets you will be sharing is going to be reflected in her eyes, as you bring your face closer to hers, to realize that she’ll be the person you can, and want to spend the rest of your life with.

(We still need to come back to the first night though. You haven’t gotten much more of her personality than that joke.)

“So, aren’t you going out and talking to someone?” She asked, her right hand using the cake server to pick up the lone chocolate one in the center of the table.

“Well, uh, it’s kinda hard to explain” You gestured your hands into an “I don’t know” pose, moving them up and down a little to imitate a weighing scale, as if you know what’s on both sides.

She puts on her curious face, staring straight into your eyes, trying to pry out an answer. “Try me”

You tried to hit back with your straight face, ready to not give in to her request, but to no avail. Her stare was getting even more intimidating. God, that gaze is strong.

“Fine.” You replied, as she giggled with her victory.

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” She furrowed her eyebrows. She really looks like a confused bear with that face.

“Never have the courage to do it.”

“Well, you look like you have enough to talk to me.” She cuts the chocolate cake with her fork, before putting the piece into her mouth.

“That’s because you’re the one initiating.”

“Oka—“ She tried to reply with a stuffed mouth, but the content was still too big. She chewed it a bit more with her right hand covering her mouth, the other putting a stop sign on you. “Okay? And am I wrong for doing that?”

“No! I—“ Her right hand moved to her waist; she was burning you with her eyes, cheeks still moving. It is important that you don’t say the wrong words here. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome~” She twisted the last syllable into a melody, before letting out a cute giggle. “I’m Haewon by the way. And sorry for fucking with you a little too much.” She offered a handshake, which you reluctantly accepted. 

You suspected that there’s something weird with her then, with how chatty she was with you. Who would be going around, talking like this to other people?

It turned out a few years later that you’re the weird one.

“Aren’t you supposed to have some friends with you?” Haewon continues her pressing on you.

Shrugged, “Yeah, but I lost them like an hour ago, so—", as you fanned your eyes around for the umpteenth time of the night. The crowd rumbled, but still no sight of your peers. “I really have nowhere to go.”

Haewon kept switching her gaze between you and the crowd, as if to make more topics and banters out of it.

“You wanna join?” Haewon finally locked you within her sight; her thumb pointed away, into the uncertainty of the crowd.

“Uh—" 

It’s one of the few times you picked the right choice, even if it was clear as day.

“Let’s go then”

Joy gleamed her face, “Great, follow me”

Along with Haewon, you walked with her into the crowd. You bumped into some people who are apathetic to your action, and some even give you an understanding look, unbothered by your mistakes. The classical music blaring around seems to calm everyone down.

You’d finally reached a group of similarly-dressed students. “Welcome back Haewon, what took you so long?” One of them muttered out.

“Him.” Haewon replied, while looking at you and beams a smile.

–

Four: Cutie

–

Woke up in your orbit

Now where do I start?

–

Eighth wonder of the world: how the fuck can you secure a date with the royalty, Oh Hae-Won. You were aware – made known by her friends teasing you during a few group dates, knowing how Haewon has been spending a lot of time on her phone lately, too often with a grin on her face. 

“Hey” Haewon appears behind you in a sudden, voices in your head are now scattered.

A little shocked, “Hey”.

White tee, brown, modern crossbody bag on her shoulder, light navy jeans, hair a little shorter from that day, topped wi—

“Haiyah!” Haewon calls out, snapping you out of your trance. “You’re doing that again, aren’t you.”

“Doing what?” You replied, hoping she didn’t notice your pondering, borderline ogling on her choice of garments.

“Thinking.” She taps her head lightly. “Like you were being hypnotized or something.”

Rebuttal, “No, I wasn’t?”, and your eyebrows are marred.

“Yes, you were. And the first time I met you was also like this; you were lost in your head, and staring at me like you were trying to gauge something out of me.” She retorts with an arrogant chuckle.

“Alright, alright, fine, I’m a daydreamer, and what’s the problem with that?” You deflect the guilt. Shit, what the fuck did I say?

“Well—" Haewon nibbles her chin while finding the word. “People don’t really like being stared at, you know.”

“Yeah, that’s a fair point, my bad.” The people pleaser inside you got the better of the debater.

“Hey, look, let me give you some advice.” Determination sparks in her eyes, her hands holding on to the string. “Don’t think, just—do it, or feel it, you know.” You aren’t quite sure how to play along with her words. “The reason I’m here today is because I see something in you, and I’m sure you see something under this pretty face.”

And it’s true, Haewon sparks a sense of an adventurer inside you, even if they’re through internet lines. She brings up quite a number of places in the city you’ve never even heard the name of, and thinking of the list is, to say the least, nauseating. But under the boulder, your determination to match her venturesome nature isn’t crushed after all.

“You’re speaking like one of those life coaches, you know.” You sarcastically reply with a chuckle.

“It’s called encouragement, get used to it.” She nicks your shoulder softly. “Shall we start the walk?”

“Sure.”

–

You two stride along the road, catching the sight of other sightseers, both local and foreign. Graffitis are etched into the walls by your sides, interspersed with numerous coffee shops aimed to lure gen z customers with their furnishings. And one seems to work on you guys, because you now have an iced thai tea, while Haewon has a matcha latte, also iced.

“So.” You cut the silence, taking a sip of your content. “Are you here often?” It’s one of the more “talky” questions you can think of right now. Your head slightly turns towards her; your eyes during the rest (more than half actually) of the work to catch her in the bullseye of your vision.

“This is just my second time, to be honest.” She replies, drinking her matcha. “And I love how these buildings look; they probably look gorgeous on your camera, don't they?”

“It’s a good substitute for my Tokyo needs.” You scoff, scanning over the old houses around you.

“Oh yeah, those photos did look breathtaking, I can see why.” She brings up the photos from over a year ago, letting out a tiny smile in the process. “I’ve been to Osaka once actually.”

Surprised, “Osaka? How come you haven’t told me this already?”, she has never brought it up during the six months you’ve known each other.

“I can’t describe it as well as you, really.” Haewon looks down, still strolling at the same pace as before. “Plus, it was just for a project. We didn’t have much time for sightseeing.” She mutters out, eyes fixated on the ground.

“I think it would be fun, please?” A chortle escapes you, thinking it would let her know your enthusiasm.

It’s quite a clear day for a rainy season - hints of white clouds here and there, but never enough to rage against your first date. You two remain at a distance, still, leaving a gap between your shadows.

“No, no, you even laughed at the idea of it, I won’t tell you that.” She calls you out, whimpering as the sentence ends.

The next thirty seconds go by in silence, the two of you keep glancing at each other, evading contact at any signals. People pass you by as you walk, widening the distance between the tip of your fingers. Guilt, fear, uncerta–

“I won’t laugh again, I promise.” You give her an assurance, and that’s the best you can do.

“Really?” She looks up at you, catching your honest compassion.

“If it’s funny, I might.” You chuckle. “But I’m sure it was a good experience for you.”

“Thanks.” You lit up a grin on her face, as she’s getting all excited to tell you about her adventure.

“So, this was like three years ago, back when I had just finished my freshman year, it was a subway surveying thing.” Haewon starts her tale, with you two turning left, now walking to the river. “I went with a group of people, and it was mostly lecturing around the tracks, really.” She chuckles. “So we had just the evening for ourselves for like, a week.”

“We went to a firework festival on the first day. God, it was so fucking crowded, but the sparking lights looked spectacular. They did the color work well.” As she tells the story, you can’t help but get immersed in the words. There’s clarity in the way she recounts it, greatly assisted with how often she says “flickering”, “cold”, “bright”, “exhausting”, “overwhelming”, and much, much more.

“The wagyu just melted in my mouth.”

“The system was confusing, to be honest, like a spider’s web, but they helped me with that a lot.”

“Yeah, it was fucking cold, and I brought so many shorts because I underestimated late spring Osaka.”

You two walk past some more old buildings and a few more cafes, with her story as the melody. It sweeps your leg like a damn good movie. How vivid the atmosphere she’s enamoring you in, how she’s so enthusiastic in her reminiscence, and how she grins and narrows her eyes upon any mention of food.

After a while, the river is finally in your view, as she’s getting through her final day at Marble Beach.

“I pulled a friend I made there to see the beach with me, and he said that it changed his life.” She laughs. “It was beautiful, you really should see it.”

A soft smile escapes you. “Well, I kinda get him, really.” You two finally reach the cement barrier, heighting just on your hips. It’s not too short that Haewon would have to throw a life ring to you, yet not too tall to obstruct your river view, enough for you to rest your arms on it as if you’re posing.

“Yeah, the Odaiba Beach, right? I saw the photos, once you mentioned that.”

[More dialogue]

–

“How far is your stop?”

“Four stations.”

“Wow, I’m on six, then interchange to another four.” She sighs at the daunting route, knowing she’d be alone.

The carriage slightly shakes as it takes a small turn. Sight of people are only a few; both of you are holding onto a pole in the middle. You’re gathering all the willpower to keep your weak hand from falling onto hers.

Haewon is looking out the window in the same direction as you, eyes examining the view outside - nocturne. “Have you ever gotten bored of this?” She asks, turning her sight to face you still looking out along.

You ponder for a moment. “It looks pretty at night.”

“That’s true, but it’s not the question.” She replies. “And the way you talk is strange, you know that? Especially with how you answer questions”

“Probably from watching a lot of movies, I guess.” You deflect.

“See? You did it again!” She points at you, unbeknownst to the inadvertently closing distance between your hands on the pole. “It’s not a peeve or anything, really, but I see that you always answer yes-no questions with a reason, not directly yes or no.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve got this complaint a bit often. I have to say the same thing twice, or even thrice to a lot of people.” You reply.

“They probably expect a yes or no, perhaps?” Haewon ends the playful nudge with a chuckle. “I don’t mind though; I can catch your words.”

You can only smile in response. “Yeah, you’re gonna have to do that for a while.” You laugh, in a volume that wouldn’t make it echo inside the whole train.

“Woah, getting daring just being with me for a day? I’m having a good influence on you~” Haewon playfully takes a jab.

“You’ll have a lot of influ–” You pause. “That’s the same joke, yeah, that’s the same joke, I’m not saying it.”

She laughs, not quite as contained as yours, attracting a few looks onto you. “Yeah, I’ll see my schedule first.” Her laughter would dissolve into a smile. “I think I can sort out a few things for us.”

Us. You can melt right here and now. The way she says it so easily is just too attractive. What does she think of me? Are we a thing now? Should I kiss her?

“U—Us?” You stutter out, mind flayed.

Haewon is locked onto her calendar. “Yeah, I know I’m not that good at planning but—” She meets your eyes. “Oh.”

[You are blushing and there’s going to be a kiss at the end of this chapter.]

–

Five: Party Police

–

You don’t have to leave

You can just stay here with me

Forget all the party police

We can find comfort in debauchery

= = =

The sound of the air conditioner fills the room, emulsified with your anticipation, forming a perfect cadence. The air between you is a mixture of both minty breaths you insisted the two of you to take a spearmint candy, the gender-neutral-honey-scented body wash both of you used in separate shower sessions, and the summer breeze air purifier Haewon bought from your first trip to the convenience store together.

You two are inside her room, sitting on the queen-sized bed, hands clutched between the hole your tangled legs make.

Haewon’s lips are slightly parted, as if their owner is about to make out a sound, yet the whirring fan blows any of her half-thought intentions away. And instinctually, to which you realized a few blinks later, yours are also making their own gap, and the whirring fan blows any of your half-thought intentions away.

“I—" Haewon would be the first to stabilize her frequency, ever so mildly fluctuated by your proximity. “I love you.” She can only confirm it in a whisper, barely vibrating the dormant air around you.

Yet, it seeps in, perhaps by the sincere nature in her voice. Haewon has never looked this fragile before, and your next move can actually ignite her neurons with blue flame this time.

“I—I love you t—too.” Flushed, presto heart rhythm, you muttered out these simple words. Resting air now shook with the expressions.

You’ve kissed her many times before, the end of the first date, the middle of the second date, the start of the third date, then a full on make out session during one of The Academy’s International Film nominees, with an unknowing crowd in the theater (it helps that the movie is quite a rare action triumph, so that the wet smooches of your lips are buried under clips after clips being unloaded, and the bullet cases clanking on the floor). Though, never once has it ended with her uncontrollably uttering fucks or shits, or even deity names neither above nor under you.

Haewon starts to lean closer to you, wholeheartedly knowing that this won’t be a normal kiss. Her head tilts so acutely, barely deviated from the axis. The small, deep hum from her throat is unexpected, with her eyelids closed and all. Yet, who are you to say no to her proclamation of love.

The expectations are high, yours, hers, on this kiss to capture much more than your lips. It’s both of your first times after all. And with the contact, you can’t help but match her tone in lovestruck. Hands are still stationed, too afraid to take this further, until they aren’t yours that touches a face first. Haewon fondles your cheeks with both of her hands as the kiss ensues, persuading you to reciprocate, and you do.

Fervor rises along the ticks of all the clocks, Haewon pierces the gap you opened with her tongue, invading your mouth. You gasp in shock, signaling her to break off from the session.

“Shit, are you okay?” Haewon’s eyes enlarged, her breathing still out of rhythm.

Giggling, “No, no, no, just a little shocked, let’s continue”, as you initiate the action this time, hands holding her cheeks, tongue sweeping the insides of her mouth.

Again, fervor rises along the ticks of all the clocks, the sound of the kiss becomes the only thing you can hear now. It’s wet, a little salty, albeit ardent, and rapturous. 

And with an unknown source of bravery, your hand traverses down from her cheeks, grazing her neck. Haewon hums a minim into your throat as your fingers hit the ridge of her chest. And through the fabric, you give her left mound a squeeze, eliciting another two-beat note from her. Tender, addictive are the first few words as your fingers sink into the cloth, and the desire arises.

Your voice, muffled through the kiss, and raspy in hunger, asks such a bold question. “Fuck, God, Haewon, may I suck on them?”

Haewon would hum another note into your mouth, before unlatching from the torrid endeavor. “Make me moan, and don’t use your teeth.” She commands.

It’s all instinctual now, don’t think, just feel echoes. You playfully push Haewon onto the bed, eyes focus on your targets. The rhythm of her ragged breaths now takes over the room.

You run your hands down her luscious curves, feeling every hill and hollow on the fabric, before hitting an edge. ”May I?” As you grab the hem of her shirt, so eager to expose her.

”Of course, babe”

Permission granted, you swiftly pull the edge of her garment up, with her putting her arms up for easy exposure. The stream of the sight of her somewhat toned midriff, perky chest, and collarbones runs through your eyes, and it’s almost too heavy to take it in. “Fuck.” And you can only give a profanity for it.

“I know, right?” She responds, chuckling.

Magnetized, and sudden, your lips latch onto her left, brown peak, coating her breast with your saliva. She complies with your action under you, letting out a symphony whenever your mouth is right at the top of her areola, right before leaving, then swallowing it again. 

The buds, excited, erect under your touch. This seems to go on for minutes. You keep switching between her left and right mounds, one hand kneading the mound that isn’t currently savored, with the other traversing her upper body, marking every square inch as yours. You won’t get bored of this easily, especially with her moaning this loud.

“More, baby, more” Haewon pleads. Her hands start to push your head onto her erect nipples now.

If you’re going to be honest, it tastes just like any other part of a human body: skin, with some honey aroma after the shower. Perhaps it’s desire, perhaps it’s ardor, or perhaps it’s love, maybe all of them together, you were drawn to them. Her writhing cries only fuel the attraction further, and the force you use with your lips.

Until–

“Fuck, fuck–, yeah.” She whines. “That–That’s good, but I want more now, baby.” Haewon mutters in the same pitch as her moans, unable to retain her usual deep tone. “You seem to– love my tits– a lot, don’t you.” Her talking is constantly cut short to make ways for the ragged breaths.

“Twenty-one years of drought, babe” You chuckle, turning your head to face hers, chin hovering above her hard nubs.

“You wanna use your mouth or your dick, huh?” Slightly annoyed, yet excited, and perhaps too lecherous that she comes off as a horny cutie joke bear. “I gotta cum first, or at the same time with you, isn’t it” She seems to be aware of how your body works, and she’s right. You don’t wanna risk being unable to get yourself up again within five minutes, while she waits, unattended.

”Damn, babe, you’ve come prepared.”

”No?, I’m gonna come with you here!” She lets out another laughter, breaking the lustful mood a bit. God, she just can’t go a minute without making a joke. Her pursuit in digging any giggles out just kills you every time, even if that means the problems were hardly addressed, tingling a small part of you on the occurrences.

You sink into the glee with her. “Oh fu— fuck off babe.” But this lustful tryst just drives you into a whirlpool right now. You quickly dispose of your shorts (why the fuck would you guys even wear clothes if you’re just going to fuck after???), freeing your delirious digit.

“God.” Haewon stares at your erect cock in awe, twitching, a glint of concern in her eyes. You wouldn’t say that it’s exactly big, but it’s enough to make her gulp. “Do I have to take all of this?”

“I’ll push slowly.” You replied, panting from the brimming anticipation.

Without a word, Haewon yanks her shorts away. Another stream of her eden, thighs, and the full lower body strikes you. And Haewon is now bare in front of you, glowing, despite her cheap light hanging above. You want to cherish this moment forever, freeze it in time, or at least just slow down a bit. Oh Hae-Won trusts you enough to expose herself, fully, in front of you. And you aren’t sure which gesture can compare to this as her proclamation of love (maybe a marriage proposal, but let’s not get into that yet).

“I thought you’d do it slower”

“All that foreplay got me so fucking turned on, babe, plus, I’m not on the shy side.”

“The nipple sucking?”

“Yeah, that meal you just had. Also, take off that shirt, I wanna feel all of you.”

Ordered, you hastily get rid of the last piece of garment, tossing it into the void, following your shorts. Both of you are now fully naked, only the cold, compressed air is your barrier now.

“Good, now come here” She says with a wink, provocative, commanding, yet so greedy. Haewon is resting on her back, with her elbows lifting her abdomen just a little from the bedsheet, enough to face you without much eye movement, smiling with desire. She bends her left leg a little, and it drives you crazy. 

Fuck, she’s the most beautiful woman in the world, perhaps ranked among the gods: Hera, Artemis, Athena, Hestia, and Haewon’s victory is a certainty. She can even go bar for bar against Aphrodite, her own creator, under this cheap room lamp. And you can’t just wait to be tied to this lady with her deity-defying charm with such an intimate act.

“You want my cock that bad, Miss Oh?” You slowly, to make it a tease, slide your knees against the bedsheet towards Haewon, getting closer to her, inch by inch. Haewon opens her leg, giving you permission and space to be in her proximity. Her eden is now in view, glistened with arousal. 

“There’s just this thing, ma’am, that I wanna take a sample of first.” Playfulness is attached in your message. She’s still on her elbows, heads slightly tilted at your defiance, as if you also have a god-challenging act in your pocket as well. And with some more inspection, it’s apparent that Haewon isn’t a firm believer in having cleanly-shaved hair, and somehow, this kind of nature just drives you into a frenzy.

“And what is it, mister?” Haewon asks, still with seduction, eyes locking on yours.

“You.” And without another word, you dive face first onto her wet, needy sex. Your nose is pressed against her mound, pubic hair brushes against it, but the “distraction” never succeeds in repelling you away. Further, it feeds the ferocity inside you to take in her scent, with a deep breath. With the sight alone, you thought you reached your limit, yet, spellbound under her musk, a hint of sweat, the honey-scented body wash, and her mildly tart aroma from the inside sends you into a literal mind break, like a morning coffee. Haewon is fucking addictive, and you can’t go a single day without her smell.

“She s–smells good, doesn’t s–she?” Her voice starts to quiver again, as your nose tickles her hair.

Meanwhile, your tongue, with a mind of its own, is lapping up her nectar, savoring the salty, tangy taste of her canal. Her sensitive nub, the one you’re sure it’s clitoris, is now stuck in your philtrum. Every swipe just grazes it, eliciting squeals from her.

“F–fuck.” Haewon cries out, starting to get lost in her immediate pleasure, “Ah.”, and your enthusiasm. “Just f-five minutes babe.”

Mouth busy in a sinful act, you hum an affirmative note out. Her vagina is now coated with your saliva, mixed with her lubricant. And with each time you pull yourself out, there’s sometimes a string of the cocktail connecting your lips to her sex - a thread between you and her.

At first, it’s a savoring session of her taste, for you, but as her wailing grows louder, you can only be curious about the limit. And without hesitation, you give her clitoris a brush - the same way you suck her nipple. As your lips contact, delicate, her moans would reach such a forte to the point you’re quite sure that everyone in the dorm would be able to hear.

Conspiring her frustration, “Want a few more, babe?”, you retreat your ministrations to her pale thighs, making a few marks here and there, robbing the pleasure that was once hers.

“Fuck you.” Haewon groans out. “Please, keep eating my pussy, please.”

You bring your fingers into play, caressing her inner trunks. And, with instinct, you slip yourself under her ass. Your eyes are still locking on her wet hole, and she seems to gush out streams of honey now. “Y–You are f–fucking insuf–” She moans out as you relentlessly withholding the release she deserves.

“Can’t hear with my hands under your ass, babe” It’s as if something possessed you into a womanizer, a shot of complacency.

Haewon would be able to muster up her remaining inhibition to define you with an adjective. “I–Insufferable.”

“That’s a little mean.” Your hands give her firm butt a squeeze, feeling the soft flesh. This is probably how Indiana Jones felt when he got his hand on the golden idol: like an ascendant. “Considering how soft your ass is.” You lick just beside the spot, motioning parallel to the pink labia.

Haewon groans in frustration, climax stolen by a thief. “Sh–shut the fuck up and put that tongue to use!” In forte, all the pent up energy can crush you into bits and pieces in minutes, while you are still drawing circles around your supposed target, pushing her to the edge of wrath, right before it turns into destruction. “FUCK!”

You are actually scared of her now, and perhaps the complaints of her neighbors about some tenant bossing a guest around in the nocturne. So, complying, you put your tongue to use, taking another sample of the mixture, tasting her and yourself again.

“Good boy, yeah, like that.” She whimpered out, being put back en route to paradise.

Constant pace, don’t go too fast. You tell yourself an advice you’ve read somewhere years ago, and you do as it says. You try to keep the speed the same, but it’s starting to get harder as Haewon decides that she needs something to hold on to, which is, unfortunately, your head. I once had a guy go too fast when I told him I’m gonna cum, and that was the ride down, my mood died completely. A comment you’ve seen somewhere pops up.

Your jaw can never get tired, if it is to devour her into ecstasy. But the force pressed upon your head is starting to be a double-edged sword to her, a place to hold on to, and the act that might close the golden gate.

The five minutes she gave earlier might come into use.

“B—babe.” You cry out between licks, voice muffled. “I wanna use my cock now.”

Haewon lets go of the grip she has in your hair locks, as she looks down from her lying position. “Really?” Expectations running high, she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” She thwarts her arm along the bed for a little while, a little lost, until she catches her colorful spot-covered pillow. And without any word, you help Haewon lift her hips up to insert the fluffy object below, bringing her puckered hole into your focus.

Tranced, “Can I taste it?” the words fell out without any restrictions.

“Don’t fucking kiss me again if you do; I don’t wanna taste my asshole.” Haewon commands, trying to regain her composure. “Maybe another day.”

You whine out. “Ugh, fine.” Before getting on your knees for the main event.

You use her spread thighs as a handle while aiming with your eyes. You line up your twitching digit on the center, resting it on her now-swollen clit. And a small whimper from Haewon would reach your ear, fueling your fire.

“You want this inside you, huh?” You tease, sliding your shaft against her core from the outside, glazing yourself with her honey resting on the nub.

“Fuck… yeah, I—I want it inside.” Haewon chokes out at your heavenly connection; her attempt at putting any façade is crumbling.

Slowly, your rod still above her center, you traverse your hands up her immaculate legs, onto her stomach. Her breaths are now short, out of any earlier rhythm, as your touch starts to overwhelm her senses. “F—fuck.” You’d only move upwards, creeping up her beautiful chest, until they are up for your hands to conquer. She’s yours now.

Now, you have her tits as a grip, ever so carefully fondling them while slowly juggling the movements: your hands squeezing, your hip thrusting, and your upper body leaning in to see her giving in closer and closer. It’s all there, eyes fluttering, lips shaking, loud moaning, and her whole firm frame writhing under you.

You aren’t going in for a kiss, really, but she forces you nonetheless. Hands gripping the sides of your head, Haewon would scream from the overstimulation, all restricted in your mouths, into you, letting out any control she has left.

“Babe.” You mutter out. And even slightly distorted by fervor, she’d break off from the locks under your voice.

Mouth agape, she looks into your eyes, using the final bit of her inhibition to predict your next words. “You can put it in, baby.” And you can only smile.

You guide your rod down to her engine, but neither of you has ever been more ready to ignite the moans. Your left hand has her thigh on the same side as a handle.

Wet, indeed, she welcomes you. The excessive preparation gives easy access, and you become the same groaning lump as she was, swallowed by rapture. In the wake of bliss, you tilt your head down until the sight of your disappearing cock is in the frame, inch by inch. 

The insides of her tighten when you reach halfway, and you can feel your tip grazing a rough patch. “Fuck!” Haewon’s body tenses up, and she lets out a higher note than usual. You also pitch a sound lower than hers, but also noticeably higher than your regular octave.

You slowly bury yourself up to the hilt, now able to let go of your flesh. Haewon stutters a moan out when your patch makes contact with her. 

“S–Seems like you can handle all of me, babe.” Your voice is quivering, without any movement to your body. You keep yourself whole with her.

Haewon can only whimper in response. 

“I-I’ll start fucking you now.” You say as you start to grind your hips back. Haewon nods, giving you the right to control the pace.

Your cock, at an agonizing speed, comes back into view. You can feel the muscles inside gripping you and how the rough patch grazes the top of your digit, evoking staccatos from her. God, anyone would kill to be in your position right now.

And at the halfway point, it’s where you push back in again, still carefully. Haewon surrenders any power she has now, with her g-spot being pleasured by another person for the first time. The suffocating squeeze she has on you persists, sending waves of pleasure around your dick.

It becomes a loop: retreat and thrust, retreat and thrust, and you finally find your rhythm. It’s ecstatic - the way her flesh embraces you. You repay her accommodation with a little angling, aiming for the sensitive patch in the second step. Both of you are lost now, blinded by the passionate endeavor you’re engaging in.

Haewon’s brain can only register euphoria, howling as your tip brushes against the g-spot. And you are no better, bucking hips back and forth, chasing your release while huffing out such notes you could hit before the existence of your Adam’s apple. The only concern now is that your roller coaster would reach its peak before hers.

“Hey, I t–think I’m gonna c–cum now.” Haewon’s words came out tattered, divided by exaltations in her groans. It's a heaven’s message, as you can also feel your climax close by.

Keep your pace; don’t go faster.

You make no attempt to go rougher with your drilling; she’s already a blushing, wailing mess under Allegro Vivace. You can also feel a knot starting to form inside of you, begging to be untangled. “M–Me too, babe.”

Haewon’s moans become even louder than the oral session minutes ago; her orgasm is close by. You can feel the way her vagina contracts around your movements, and you aren’t far from it, either.

Two lost souls search for intimacy, and they eventually find each other. And the mistakes they’ve made don't matter anymore. The people they’ve passed through, either able to find solace or dissonance, have become nothing more than a plot device to drive them forward, for them to meet. And even if the future remains clouded, it’s just them at this exact moment, becoming each other’s sanctuary.

“FUCK!” Haewon cries out. As her hip convulses, bending your digit slightly. She pulls her legs back, feet touching her pale ass before they go up in the air. Haewon cums, violent, ferocious, cathartic. Her whole body tenses up; her tits are shaking. Her walls tighten around you, begging to milk every upcoming drop of you until dry. 

You take in the view but can only register a few words to describe how you feel right now: fuck, and god. She screams from the top of her lungs to accommodate such pleasure. And isn’t it a symphony that’s so pleasing to hear, knowing that they are products of your doings?

Haewon’s breathing starts to slow down, but seeing how she becomes undone beneath, you quicken your thrusts to chase the high you’re anticipating. “Fuck!” Under sensitivity, Haewon squeals.

“Do you want me to slow down, babe? I can still cum no matter the pace.” With care, you ask.

“I–I wanna t–try.” Her syllables come out in stutters, “Keep going.”,  as your length rams into her cunt even faster than before her high.

You keep your fast, lively tempo, and that seems to be the right choice. You can play the melody faster, yet you already fail to register all the fucks and shits, Haewon mutters out while being pounded. You’re guided by your intuition at this point. It builds up inside your stomach, calling to be broken free. You feel your legs wobbling like jello, and your awareness of whether there’s any left, opposite Haewon’s, has left your body already.

And with a single, final thrust, “FUCK!” you bend yourself down to capture her lips, screeching all the satisfaction from your high into her mouth. Spurts of cum released into her welcoming cunt, while you basically buried yourself inside her, twitching under orgasm. Haewon moans into your mouth at each of your vibrations. Lustful, your tongues are swirling inside each other’s mouth, tasting each other as much as you can.

Thick cum is still discharged into her, painting her insides with white. And slowly, you start to slide down from the precipice. Your cock still twitches inside her cunt; the remaining cum only dribbles out from the hardness now. The kiss remains magnetic; you two are too hungry for each other. You can only taste the mint candy from earlier.

Finally, it breaks, a string of saliva connects your lips together, as both of you are bathed in the afterglow. Haewon’s face is drenched from her own sweat, panting, and smiling. “I love you.” She mouths, trying to make sense of her heart rhythm, soft breaths touching your face.

You’re still panting, attempting to take in her words. Even if they’re the same as from the beginning, when the clothes are still barriers between you, it sears you this time. A lock has been solved, yet you are still questioning the contents inside the box.

Then, you realize that it’s your heart, “I love you too, babe.”, and it can explode right here. Love floods, lust flows, binding you two together, in the vast sea of possibilities.

Haewon smiles before pulling you into another kiss. This one is much less passionate than the ones preceding, but it’s, nonetheless, affectionate. The way she captures your lips is too confident for you to be unsure about the attachment she gives you, and that might be the first time in your life that you’re so certain of someone else’s love, and her name is Oh Hae-Won.

Exhausted and spent, you let yourself fall onto her side, looking up. Your left arm is resting on her collarbones. “Fuck.” Your vocabulary seems to shrink under ecstasy as the cadence rings too loud for you to think properly.

“That was fun.” Haewon scoffs, before turning her bare frame towards you, head resting on her hand. “We should do this more often.”

“Should? I’m fucking you everywhere, babe.” You reaffirm with a simper.

“Shit.” Haewon chuckles before seeming to remember something. She quickly gets up from the bed. “I’ll go pissing first. It’s this–”

“UTI. Yeah, I’ve read about it.” You cut her off to show off your knowledge of sex education. “Can we cuddle after?” You plead, attempting to make a cute face.

“Sure.” She laughs, pointing at you. “If you don’t mind having your back getting a bit wet.”, and you can only smile back at her. Haewon would saunter out to her bathroom with a slight limp, managing to sway her reddened cheeks. Fuck. 

And despite the low light, you can see drops of your cum, dribbling a shine down her legs. “Are you going to clean th–”

“No.” She winks before disappearing into the bathroom, leaving a trail of nectar in her path.

You bite your lip in another rise of your arousal.

–

You hear the sound of tap water running from inside the bathroom before the lock clicks. Haewon appears in front of your eyes again, still naked.

“I kept the promise.” She says.

Immediately, still on her bed, you press your vision down her body. Her pussy remains glistened with your white cum, mixed with her tangy lubricant. Perhaps your saliva is also blended into the liquid.

“God, Haewon.” Again, your mind goes blank. “It has been just five minutes. I really can’t do that.”

Haewon chuckles, swaying her alluring hips closer to you. “I know.” Before she pounces you on the bed, staining the sheets with your fluids. Haewon prints a few kisses here and there, usually in the proximity of your lips and neck. And, in disbelief, you watch over her body to see that the five-minute gap is enough for your cock to be ready again.

“Fuck.”

Haewon’s glance follows yours to your erection.

“Another round, babe?”

–

Six: Just Another Girl

–

Now why can’t I sleep at night?

And why don’t the moon look right?

–

Sunlight peeks through the gap in your curtains, casting on the blanket that’s covering any visual hints of last night’s debauchery. Her arms retain their restrictive nature, an environment you’d enthusiastically enlist for. Her fingers barely interlocking on your heart, feeling the thrumming lullaby she holds on to like the greatest hits.

Her chest is pressed against your back, and the fact that you notice this (and how you savored their peaks last night with such unbeatable hunger) only entices your morning wood to last longer than it should’ve. You snuggle into her embrace further, establishing yourself as hers and pressing yourself into her perky breasts even harder, wanting to feel every inch of them.

“Hmm?” Haewon finally wakes up, fading her tightness wrapped around you.

Slightly panicked, you grab her escaping hand onto your warm skin. “Hey.” And you greeted her.

Haewon chuckles. “Oh, this boy needs a hug, huh?”

You close your eyes and hum in agreement, since her embrace becomes another gesture you’ve grown to love now, even if it was discovered just a few minutes ago.

“How was last night, my baby boy?” She questioned you with a tiny simper.

You can only chuckle along. “Cathartic, babe, but I’m not doing the whole mommy thing right now.”

Haewon laughs. “Okay, fine, I’ll ask you properly later, though.”

The cuddle went on for minutes. You are unwilling to let her go after such intimacy you had. After a while, you notice the scar on your chest. This may be the time you show her, but you need bravery. And you’re not sure if love could muster it up.

[A paragraph demonstrating Haewon’s good influence on you and how you’ve influenced her]

“I wanna tell you something, with us being this bare and such.” You gathered a little courage to speak up, adamantly attempting to show her your so-called scar. 

Haewon would let out a tiny chuckle at your cheap joke. “Unload them to me, babe.” She lets out another tiny chuckle, resting her head on a makeshift stand of her fist. You can’t help but join along with her.

“Oh my god, fuck you.” You said, along with a laugh.

“You just did.” 

“Okay, okay, I’ll start now, don't distract me this ti—" You let out a small giggle, as she’s still soaked in her own hilarity. “It’s like seven years of story; trust me, it’s more fun than you’d think.”

“Seven years? Is it like, a long-term heartbreak or something, and what’s with you making everything into a story, catastrophic or not.” Haewon asks.

“Well—” You contemplate - whether to spoil the ending for her or not, but she can probably guess by the way you purposefully hold out the information in lieu of instantly answering. “Seven years ago, in late April, I just started high school.”

You can see the late morning sunlight reflected in her eyes, single-minded on your tale.

“You want me to close the curtains first?” You direct your thumb toward the gap.

“No need, plus, you look better with the light.” She smiles, sincerity can be felt from it, maybe it’s the way the light drapes on your right half of her face.

“Thanks, babe, okay, where was I— Yeah, seven years ago, late April, high school.”

–

“And then I met you.”

“You know that you’re the asshole in this one, right?” Haewon hits you with such a question.

Certainty of a weeping eluded, “Fuck, not even a single tear?”

“Wow, this lack of self-awareness is concerning, babe, and this is out of love.” She scoffs. “You’re the bad guy here.”

“Look, I’ve been telling myself about the same statement since that day, so yeah, Haewon, I’m aware that I’m the asshole in this story.”

“Were you hurt by it or something?” Haewon asks with genuine curiosity, she caught the sadness in your tone, yet unable to make sense of it. Her head remains resting on her fist, albeit making a ninety degrees apart from you.

“I— yeah, I know it was my fault, but—“ You avert her gaze, staring at the blanket covering her midriff. “It was five years, almost. And it still hurts sometimes whenever I see something that reminds me of her.”

Haewon would give you a blank expression; her next words are unpredictable.

“I kinda— get the idea? You can’t deal with college life, so she becomes a–no, the source for you to vent shit. And one day, it became too much, with that fight making it wor–no, apparent.” It’s nothing short of incredible that she gets all of it within the first iteration and gives you the much-needed feedback (even if you’ve already considered this possibility). 

“And she wants you to get better. She didn’t think she could be the person you could rely on anymore. This is how I see it.” With ease, Haewon recounts the most plausible explanation, the one you’ve been avoiding accepting.

“Yeah, it’s…” You resist the urge to argue with her point, realizing that such emotional manipulation cannot work. Perhaps the amount of self-awareness poured in just doesn’t work anymore. “You’re right.”

“There’re some points that I… kinda understand you? Like the whole being insecure stuff, but all of this is just a shitshow, babe. You even write a fic about it.” A tiny simper leaves her mouth.

“Spielberg made a film about his parent’s divorce; Taylor Swift has, well…”

“Steven’s was like… sixty years? And I think Taylor can be an asshole, to be honest, aside from All Too Well.” Haewon replied without a delay.

“Agree to disagree.” You can only sigh afterward, and maybe it’s the way your breath taps on her chest more heavily than it should or the way you avert the eye contact you’ve been maintaining.

“Hey, are you okay?” Her doe eyes hints concern, while the fingers lightly caress your cheek.

Destined, your tears well up just a little, but enough for you to detect and hold back. “Kinda.”

Haewon lets out a sigh, the back of her free fingers still fondling your cheek. “I’m sure you’ve changed.”

“It's been more than two years now.” Your lips quiver. “B–But telling you here, it’s just…”

Like the first time with your therapist, like the first time you tell your colleagues, your tears are always on the hinge as the story ends.

“I know I can’t fix it - this whole weird love-hate relationship of yours.” She finally sits up. “But I know you aren’t the person you were.” Your cheeks are suddenly cupped by both of her hands. “And as long as you… try to be better, I’ll be with you.” Haewon ends her speech with a caring look.

Nothing in her deliverance is poetry-worthy; they’re basic quotes you’d find in the self-help books. Though, the words not coming from some self-centered guy melts the cynic inside you, and that’s when tears start to fall.

“I also know that it hurts, even if you’re the one who’s wrong.” She softly cheers up.

Through the sobs, “Y–You’re quite di–direct, babe.” You try to wipe the tears off your watering eyes.

She lets out a sympathetic titter. “I’m not the best at this, sorry.”

“I-It’s fine. Thanks for being here.” You succumb to the lamentation, crying your heart out, as Haewon embraces you. Maybe it’s the way you’re naked on someone else’s bed, maybe it’s the way her chest presses up against your chin, or perhaps it’s the way she puts her leg over yours as if she’s using a side pillow, but you’ve never felt more vulnerable in your life. And you’re probably being engulfed by it under the right person.

–

Epilogue: Keeping Tabs

–

I wish I never met you.

You are the worst thing that I’m still

Keeping tabs on for some stupid reason.

–

“It’s quite a lot of stations, babe. Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah–”

It was your birthday two days ago. How old are you now, twenty-five? Three years after graduation, you rejected a job offer from Japan because you didn't want to leave your girlfriend. Not that it was a wrong choice, since the number of fights, sex, and after-fight, angry, heated sex between you and Haewon sits on the average rate. 

Further, not having to buy a plane ticket every time you want to see your parents, or your friends is definitely a plus. Just a few hours after the plane landed in Narita, you want to break Japan’s immigration law. God, those streets are miles better than what you have at home.

It seems that trying to reach Odaiba Beach from Meguro Sky Garden takes an hour, plus walking. Sure, it’s ninety minutes to sunset, but you can feel doubts in her voice and your own. It’s the few final days, and all of your words hyping this exact place up only make her feral.

“Maybe we can make it if we start walking now, instead of like– arguing over this.”

Haewon shoots you a glare. “This trip would go to waste if we can’t make it before sunset.” And she takes a step towards you, pointing at your chest. The sun still casts a long shadow of her on the ground.

“Waste?” You arch your eyebrows. “Says the one who spent a whole fucking day at Shinjuku to sweep Uniqlo’s stocks.”

The wind blows over the metal fence, assorted colors of leaves swirling around you.

Her eyes remain fixated on you, before giving an apologetic expression. “Yeah that’s fair. It’s a bit of a quickfire for me on that.” 

You snap a photo of her before replying. “Those cardigans are cheaper here anyway, don’t worry.”

She reaches for your camera, X-E4, examining the image of her, and smiles. “Let’s go.” Before leading you, handheld, to the elevator down from the garden.

–

“God.”

“It seems like we’re here at the right time” You speak, before taking another photo of Haewon, showered under the orange of the setting sun.

Haewon is left speechless at the sight in front of her: Rainbow Bridge, salmon sky from the sunset, tinged with clouds, some purple, red, orange. You think it’s probably from some kind of refraction. People aren’t scarce, but to say that there’s a crowd is an overstatement. It’s pretty much the same as in your memory from five years ago. How are the people in my photos doing now?

Similar to the last time, when the breakup was just over a month, you take in the view. It’s just that you aren’t basked in melancholy anymore. Sure, you’re still keeping tabs on her every few months, but it’s nothing more than a blocklist check. You aren’t ready to face Minji, really, and not seeing each other again would be a kind gesture by the gods. However, the hate etched into your wrists isn’t quite as visible anymore.

Still, you can’t play down her impact on your life. In spite of the indirect nature of the teachings, you learned how to love and what to do with one.

“I’ll be back, babe. I’ll see if I can swim to the bridge from here.” Haewon speaks out, like the first encounter, snapping you out of your trance.

Shook, “I’ll wait here; make sure not to get swept into the sea.”, and you joke, smiling.

“See ya.” Haewon grins back, gesturing a goodbye, before stepping out towards the water.

–

[A few paragraphs leading up to the encounter with Minji again; yeah, it’s a little anticlimactic for you to see this in your first read, sorry]

You failed to say a word to her, and there may not be any second chance for this.

It’s funny, miles away from where you’ve feared most. No soul in the world would’ve expected this. 

The sun continues on its path, too busy rushing to make its predetermined setting time, ergo apathetic to the colors it casts onto the sky and the way Minji is elegantly bathed by it. Her features are frozen, you alike, mouth slightly ajar. Waves crashing onto the sand keep filling in the silence between you, each encouraging your heart to push out a syllable you’re choking. There’s no battle on who would give in to snapping back into reality first since the argument on the encounter being a dream is too plausible.

Though less often as time goes on, Minji has been your recurring nocturnal figure. Occasionally, she appears as the one who has disregarded your cries during those final days – unresponsive, cold, unaware of your collapse. If not, it’s you and her enamored in what you’ve always wanted her to see, conversing like high school students again. Either way, you usually classify the world surrounding you as nightmares after the alarms are off, almost always with tears welling and ragged breaths, as if her presence alone is enough to give vitality to your nights.

But if this is a lucid dream, both of you would’ve laughed by now, under the Odaiba Beach sunset. Memories are washed away into the sea, making way for you to run along the shoreline, free from any grievances. You wouldn’t go as far as saying that it could’ve been her on the flight here with you, even if the potential of it touches you in more than one way.

The bewilderment of meeting her in where’s supposed to be your sanctuary hasn’t faded one bit. It clouds the fact that she has preserved her high ponytail. She grips her denim jacket ever so tightly while slightly parting aside from the center, revealing a pitch-black turtleneck shirt beneath. The brown string crossing her body is holding her likely expensive handbag resting on the side of her hips. All of these are topped with beige, all-creased pants, undercut with sneakers of the same color, or not, you don’t seem to care anymore.

Voice notes and texts are woven into a tapestry, the one you and she cut as your paths diverged. Yet, your threads, somehow, have been remaining set to interlock with each other again after all this time. The track was divided into a parallel, just with a sea of hatred, sometimes reflecting a spark of care.

It’s still clear as day, the way she left you blind, likely without remorse, any glimmer of hope was eradicated with blocks on social media. The way you tell the version of your story enough times for you to find the median and average spot where people would start to cry. And not that you were left unshaken with each iteration; you just stop before giving in to the sorrow hanging off the edge of your tear ducts. And at one point, it became another tale, a cult classic to you.

Still, this is no place and time to assert your wounds anymore. It’s Tokyo, and five years have passed. Getting one over her shouldn’t matter anymore, you know that. What’s left to achieve in triumph is just plunging the dagger into yourself once more, revisiting how shaken you have been without her for all these years. And three, you’re the one on the wrong side.

Plus, it’s not so awful that she left, even if it casts you in a state of bereft in the first few months. You deleted her photos, and both of you blocked each other. You learned to collect yourself up again, shredding what was once shared while coming to terms with the ones rooted in the essence of you, learning to let them be shared with others. The cadence doesn’t entirely sound like it was, yet it’s what you’ve accepted as days pass.

You still hate her; it’s a known fact. I fucking hate you rings true to this day - a half-thought during a fire burned into your wrists, calling out to be crossed off. Guilt, shame, and self-loathing have been rooting off it, yet you can’t bleed the source out.

In the shadows that the sun cast, you feel a twitch in the corner of your mouth - the determination to conceal any hints of glee at her presence is trying to keep itself afloat. Another gulp in your throat only delays the inevitable; your cheek is trembling from an unknown feeling. It’s teasing the brim. It’s tasting the uncertainty. It’s towering over your hatred. And it brings the nocturnal summer wind that embraced you on the first day at high school, the day she picked up her name tag when everything was in the right place.

“Kim Min-Ji.” Your teacher called as she stood up to pick up her name tag.

“I like you.”

And it flows through you–

“Him? Not really.”

“God, you suck at badminton.” You did “outscore” her by quite a margin (twenty-one to six).

–all the words you’ve said–

“I’ll probably be a doctor. You haven’t chosen yours yet?”

–all the words she has said–

“I think she’s the one.” (She wasn’t.)

“These early mornings are killing me.” Her high school project was killing her.

“Yeah, I can’t be bothered with all this studying. I’ll probably make some nice portfolio and pray.”

–all the dreams drawn together–

“If someone wants to enter here, they can just look at these pics and follow the instructions. It might not be for everyone, I guess. I still wish I could help them, though.”

“I really fucked up a lot during quarantine, like my mental state was dwindling.”

“Now I’m going to be a tired doctor all my life.” She scoffs, downplaying her success.

“This place is filled with rich people.”

–all the struggles vented–

“God, I look so pretty in this.” The red lipstick looks good on her; you wish you knew the exact shade.

“We need to recreate this photo; you stand here.”

“See ya.” She said, not knowing it would be the last time you would see each other face to face.

“Really fucking drunk right nowww, just wanna say you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had, like definitely top five, haha.” It was a drunk text in a bar under the blaring music.

–all the love proclaimed–

“I’ll probably have to study another year. You’re still invited to my graduation, though. We’d be like twenty-six by then, right?” 

“I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have done that, too.”

“I fucking hate you.” The line that became a part of you ever since.

–and the ending.

“Don’t message me anymore; just go live your life separately. Have a pleasant life.”

Are you sure to delete 525 photos permanently?

This action cannot be undone.

Delete Permanently

It’s as if someone made a supercut of you two.

It's excruciating, the way it seeps through your brain, the same one that hung you to be ravaged by the abyss. A wave of serotonin washes over your face, sheathed within the Tokyo Bay’s serenity. And a smile forms, over five years of her name being a crucifixion. It’s you breaking the cadence, and you can only beg her to accept it.

Alas, you have never been in the position to ask for anything. You’ve always been the convict in the sad songs supposed to bury you under their alphabets, robbing the sorrow you meant to drown into. You are her mistake, one that she’s likely so enthusiastic to cross off in her diary.

Yet, under the setting sun, in such a foreign place, and after years of it, maybe she forgets, maybe she forgives, or perhaps she doesn’t care about it. But if even it is written in the sand of Odaiba Beach, it would also be etched on the same wound you see on your pulse, that Kim Min-Ji reciprocates your smile, with a chuckle even, back bent forward the same way you remember to accommodate such elation.

And free from conviction, you are. It’s not the late-night, thumbs-on-keyboard kind of relationship anymore, neither being two free spirits against the world; it’s two people, unshackled from grudges. It’s the closure in the same veins of La La Land, a tapestry of love remains, despite the zeroes and ones translated as blocks, plus the frontal lobe chemicals interpreted as detestations. There has always been a part of you that cares - under the miles of self-loathing from guilt and the despise entrenched in you.

As cued, the setting sun is refracted in the drop of tear grazing your left cheek. She seems fine, even if she’s drowned in her droplets, thirty, forty, or fifty—you aren’t sure anymore—meters away from the idyllic waves. It won’t be the same, and it can never be. Years of walling each other out only dims any remaining glimmer. But here you are, under the Tokyo sun, laughing and crying on such an unfortunate encounter.

You aren’t fourteen again. It doesn’t feel like the first day or the first words of you two. It’s two grief-stricken adults with a shared past. Both cannot hold on to their grudges, though, just you being an asshole for having them.

You aren’t her mistake after all, and she’s not your mistake anymore.

And it’s not witty, but it would suffice.

“Hey.”

—

“That was her, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How was it? I see that you guys were kinda smiling.”

You ponder for a moment, a little too long before Haewon would ask again.

“It ends well, right?”

“I suppose so.”

—

I need to get over you.

—

[breelandwalker]

Frost Moon - November 15 2024

Grab your scarves and mittens, witches - it’s time for the Frost Moon!

Frost Moon

The Frost Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of November. In temperate zones in the Northern Hemisphere, November is the month during which the first frost or first hard freeze of the season is usually observed.

Like many full moon names, this is an English translation of a traditional name used by one or more North American indigenous groups, in this case the Cree and the Assiniboine. Similarly, the Anishinaabe and the Ojibwe also called this month the Freezing Moon or Freezing Over Moon respectively, as indigenous naming conventions usually refer to the entire lunar month and not just the full moon itself. Other indigenous names include Deer Rutting Moon (Dakota and Lakota), Whitefish Moon (Algonquin), Leaf Fall Moon (Catawba), and Digging (or Scratching) Moon (Tlingit). The latter refers to the habit of deer and other creatures scratching up the ground to find hidden food caches, as well as bears digging their dens for winter hibernation.

Another very common name for this month’s full moon is the Beaver Moon, due to the increased sightings of these busy little creatures shoring up their dams and food stores before the first hard freeze of winter. (Unfortunately, it’s also a reference to the peak days of the North American fur trade, signaling the optimal hunting time for beaver pelts.)

In some modern pagan traditions, particularly those claiming Celtic lineage, the November moon is also called the Mourning Moon. This occurs when the November moon is the final full moon before the winter solstice. In 2024, the November is not a Mourning Moon, as the December full moon falls on the 15th, several days before the winter solstice. (I was not able to find an original source for this claim, but given the celebration of the beloved dead in October, a subsequent period of mourning and remembrance makes sense. It may also be a reference to the Catholic All Souls Day, but that’s just speculation.)

This particular Frost Moon will be at peak fullness in the afternoon hours of November 15th (4:29pm EST). This is the final supermoon in the four-month consecutive series of supermoons for 2024, so make the most of it!

What Does It Mean For Witches?

This is the month when migrations are finishing up, animals are finishing their cold weather preparations, the temperature starts to plummet, and fall descends rapidly into winter. If you haven’t finished your preparations for winter, mundane or magical, this is probably your last chance to do it. (Don’t forget to prioritize and delegate!)

With the days getting shorter and the nights getting colder, the temptation to hunker down and hibernate is STRONG. But we have to remember that just like the eponymous Beaver, humans have to stay active during the cold months. Start stockpiling ways to keep yourself busy and motivated, since that Seasonal Slump is on the horizon for many of us.

Consider also the beaver’s dam. You’ve spent the whole year working towards all kinds of goals. Is there still something blocking your way? What might it be and how can you best address and remove the obstacle? Or, alternatively, is it time to stop and rest and see if that roadblock will clear itself with a little time and patience?

In keeping with the Mourning Moon moniker, this could be a good time for reflection and remembrance. Think back on what you’ve built this year and take time to be proud of yourself. Remember what is dear to you, take a moment to miss someone who is gone, and consider rekindling bonds that may have lapsed or grown tenuous during the hustle and bustle of daily life. It’s always a good time to tell someone you love them.

On a practical note, if you have pets that regularly stay outdoors overnight, start bringing them inside or make sure they have a shelter that is properly warm, clean, and secure against human or animal intruders. If it’s too chilly for you to be out without a coat, it’s too chilly for the critters, fur or no fur. PLEASE do not leave your furry friends out in the cold!

What Witchy Things Can We Do?

As we prepare for winter, this is an excellent time to shore up those magical protections. Check on your longterm spells to see if they need refreshing, or just go ahead and do a quick cleanse-and-reclaim as a proactive measure. Even if everything is solid, practice your technique by shoring up points of egress or adding a new layer to the existing wards or trying a new visualization or method for personal protections. Create a new charm or talisman to carry you through the winter or make something festive and decorative that could be given as a gift.

On the subject of cleansing, this is a good time to clear out any stale or disruptive energy that might be lingering from the recent change of seasons. Solstices can be times of transformation, but change is rarely a calm or peaceful process and it brings its’ own set of challenges and upheavals. If things have gotten a little more chaotic than you’d like, take a moment to put your house in order, metaphysically speaking.

If you’re partial to jar spells, consider putting one together to help maintain safety and abundance through the winter months. If you’re going to be traveling for the upcoming holidays, a bit of luck and protection for the journey wouldn’t go amiss either.

If you've been working any longterm magic over the past few months to coincide with the abundance of supermoons, this is the time to bring your working to a culmination. Finish setting things in motion, tie up loose ends, close loopholes, and send your magic out into the world. Be sure to document what you've done and when and what methods you used, as well as any indicators of success to look for later if (and hopefully when) tangible results begin to appear.

Try a frost divination. If your area is starting to see overnight frosts, take a moment in the morning to examine the patterns that the frost leaves on the windows of your home or vehicle. Do you see any patterns or images in the ice crystals? Check the weather forecast and whisper a question into the wind when the overnight temps will drop below freezing. Then in the morning, see if there’s an answer waiting for you!

Happy Frost Moon, witches! 🌕❄

Further Reading:

Additional Lunar Calendar posts

Beaver Moon Magic: November’s Vibrant Moon Meaning in 2024, The Peculiar Brunette.

Beaver Moon: Full Moon in November 2024, The Old Farmer’s Almanac.

Beaver Full Moon in November - Buckle and Hocken, TimeAndDate.com.

Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison, Llewellyn Publications, 2004.

Image Source - ABC News.

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[z4rph1m]

Platonic Yan!Batfam X dazai! GNreader X Yandere DC

Forgotten child

Pro. Ch.1 (you are here) Ch.2

No longer human….

The name of your ability to nullify any type of meta power or other ability within your radius.

Something that your mother made you aware of before she went along with the clouds.

Mori did once told you that she also had an ability, the Setting Sun

An ability that allow the user to give out the sense of despair and hopelessness to their target….

Upon hearing about it you started to wonder if your mother once use it against you

Months had gone by yet the manor felt emptier than ever.

A lingering presence of a child who was life greatest failure or was it life that failed the child?

The presence wasn’t a blissful innocence and joy but instead a lingering sense of sadness and self-destruction of the child.

The place where the presence is almost as if the child is there has to be their bedroom.

A place where the child find solace and comfort,

A place where Alfred mostly goes to whenever he has the chance.

As much as he wants to denies it

Your path of darkness had already started the moment you were born.

Born not out of love but instead a result of a stringless and loveless action during intimacy.

Alfred knew that there was no hope in saving you from the dark pit of despair and sadness but maybe, just maybe if you were surrounded by care and love instead of indifference and neglect, you would’ve turn out differently.

Alfred raised you with all the care and love he could give yet it still doesn’t stop you from being self-destructive and suicidal.

He knows about your struggles with fitting in with your peers.

Your struggles to overcome your self-destructive tendencies.

Especially with how often he helped with bandaging yourself again and again.

He secretly keep pictures of you throughout the years you’ve stayed in the mansion.

Especially when he took you to a fun fair, away from Gotham.

But that still doesn’t give you the light of hope.

He prayed that one day you’re surrounded by the love that you needed and want.

But he hopes you won’t hate him for what he’s about to do

Bruce know whenever his children comes in and out of the manor, yet he couldn’t help but felt as if someone is missing.

He thought that one of them is probably playing some type of prank on him until Alfred came knocking on the door before entering.

“Master Bruce? I’ve come with your tea prepared and old news to bring”

“Old news? Then do tell” putting down all of his paperwork’s, tapping the pen down on the table

“You’re second child had move out a few months back, it’s a sudden but they didn’t bring anything with them.”

Bruce stare at Alfred in confusion. Jason move out, since when did he move in in the first place?

Alfred gave Bruce a knowing look, as if he can read his mind before opening his mouth to speak.

“It is not master Jason, he is your third child. I suggest to take another guess”

Bruce kept a confused look and thinking on who exactly move out from the manor.

It’s definitely not Dick or Jason, nor is it Tim since he’s currently in his room, or is Damian who’s too young to even move out.

Or coul- no, it couldn’t be….

The bitter truth struck to him like a pile of sadness and despair came hugging his very body.

His first biological child.

The one who join after Dick.

His precious child.

[N] Wayne

Does he even remember how you look like? Actually scratch that, did he even have time or actually look at you throughout your life in the manor?

To add the salt to the wound, Alfred once again speak up.

“I had inform you of their departure but you were quick to dismissed it. I decided that it be best for you to be inform of it the second time”

A sense of dread continue to hug Bruce’s body like a blanket, as if a sadness and the guilt of a child had been passed on to another.

Did he ever had a proper conversation to you, or even attend any events at school with you?

God he hopes not.

He doesn’t even remember how your voice sounds like or even what’s you’re likings to simple things like food or even hobby.

“Alfred, how old are they now exactly?”

It’s embarrassing for a parent to even ask that simple question about their child.

“They’ve just turn 22 a month ago, from what I know, they’re currently living in a apartment”

God how many birthdays did he missed.

He didn’t even gave you a simple card and a cake, actually have you ever even had a birthday cake?

Or even any celebrations?

“Alfred, if you may, lead me to their room”

He wants to know what type of person you are, or at least an idea of it.

What a pitiful excuse of a father isn’t it?

You blankly stare at the dead bodies of the people who tried to kidnap you to threaten the port mafia boss.

Having no emotions In your eyes, bandages being redder and dirtier than ever, and 4 subordinates behind you.

“Bring their body to the slaughterhouse, at least their body would be useful in the market”

They were quick to obey to your command, like little rabbits afraid to get killed by the wolf.

The blood on the floors were left alone, and the deafening silence was your company.

Keyword : Was.

You’re not stupid to not know you’re being watch.

By Bruce’s other child no less, the one who was presumed dead by the members.

“You can come out now Jason. Or should I call you by your vigilante name, Red Hood?”

You watch as he slowly show himself to you, putting his gun down, hands holding nothing.

You just blankly stare at him before putting on a small smirk.

“Try to put me in jail? Or did you change your mind when you saw it was me?”

You change your expression to a blank one, the one that shows the darkness in your eyes and the feeling of the grim reaper surrounding you.

In Jason eyes, there’s something wrong with your silhouette.

Is it the way you’re staring at him? Or the feeling of despair, death and sorrows that clings to you.

It was as if you’re not even a human being.

You turn back and walk away from him, having enough of one of the famous vigilante of Gotham.

“You can take the leftover bullets if you want, must be frustrating to use the rubber ones”

Inspired by @-acid-ixx again & again series and @-marcyvamp1re-blog silly little bat

[electricalhuzzah]

You know who the relationship reveal is gonna be objectively insane for? Soos.

Like yeah Dipper’s gonna be furious but also he knows Bill and Ford have a history so it’s not necessarily the biggest shock. Soos doesn’t know they have any more of a backstory than Bill and the rest of the family so from his POV he brought this messed up triangle home and Ford immediately started fucking him with no preamble. If you don’t already know they’re exes who never got over each other that must be *nuts*

my good man you keep hitting the nail on the head with this shit.

to be fair, with or without the history, ford basically started fucking bill with no preamble within what? five(ish) hours of making eye contact? granted the pines don’t necessarily know that they hatefucked on bill’s first day of being human.

i didn’t mention this in the story, but in the fic, the book of bill never made it out past theraprism security measures. so the pines never got it, and they don’t know about the missing pages unless they were told. thus, the degrees of awareness amongst the pines are as follows. NOBODY CONSIDER THIS CANON TO THE FIC yet BC im still plot mappin and shit and i dont want to accidentally commit an incontinuity. ok here we go.

while dipper knew about the history between bill and ford (from the last mabelcorn i think? whichever one they done the brain scanner), i’m operating under the impression that he believed them to be advanced colleagues. somewhere between a professor-student relationship and a deity-worshipper relationship. he knew it was fucked up, but he thought it was like,,, normal fucked up.

mabel is still under the impression that bill is just hung up on his deity ex “bjorn.” ford never really got around to telling her about their history, and frankly he never really wanted to. so she also has no preamble, AND she thinks bill is just rebounding with her grunkle.

stan probably has the most context out of all them, and even that’s not a whole lot. during their sea ventures pre-fic, ford probably said something to the effect of “my relationship with bill was, in a few instances… less than professional and more than platonic. now, please, stanley, can we leave it at that?” then they got drunk and emotional and ford said a bit more than he likely should’ve. by the next morning, they were deeply hungover. ford didn’t remember saying anything; stan thinks he remembered something about someone loving a triangle and torture and eye stealing, but then again, he also seems to remember playing strip poker with a mermaid, so he’s not entirely sure how much was real.

soos. dear soos. we love soos. he’s got no context. he thought they HATED each other. and he’s begun to see bill as his employee/mentee/child who’s tryna do better. soos is reading those contracts with the theraprism to make sure he won’t get his probation officer/parental rights revoked on the grounds that his paternal figure’s brother is fuckin the convict/patient.

im keepin my mouth shut about melody for now.

OK PEACE AND LOVE AND CORNDOGS

[aliendes]

SVT Reaction to yelling at you for the first time/saying something hurtful

a/n: *gasp* I'm actually posting something after... checks watch... 4 years?! holyyyyy shit! anyways, this wasn't requested, I've been been brainrotting over SVT and anyone who knows me knows I love the angst. if you want to see more of SVT or have a request, hit up my inbox! i missed writing and tbh this is probably complete shit. I'm just trying to get back into it slowly before I write any behemoths like I used to. anywhooooooooo, here's some angsty AF SVT reactions.

w/c: 5,000~ (this is normal for me, unfortunately)

warnings: angssssst, some name calling (sl*t is used in a derogatory way by one of the boys I'm so sorry), one of the boys gets slapped (he deserves it), and overall just a lot of hurt no comfort. let me know if I missed anything that needs a warning.

let me know if you wanna see a part 2!

Seungcheol (S.coups)

He can be hot-headed and while he can have a sharp tongue sometimes, he doesn’t actually mean the things that he says in the heat of the moment. When he first raised his voice at you to tell you to “Stop acting like a bitch!” he instantly regretted his choice of words. It wasn’t even that big of an argument, you had only asked him to tell you about practice and what was bothering him, but after the long day he had he really didn’t want to rehash the details. When you sighed your third sigh, he just… snapped. The look on your face told him all he needed to know. He’d hurt you with his words and his tone. He watched in real-time as your expression turned from one of annoyance to one of pure hurt. Before the tears started rolling down your cheeks, you turned from him and immediately locked yourself in the bathroom. 

“Baby?” He approached the door cautiously like he would an injured animal. And he guessed, you kind of were at this point. He lightly rapped his knuckles on the wooden door. “Baby, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean that.” His voice was hoarse, he was trying to hold back his emotions so he could fix this. He could hear you sniffling from the other side of the door, but you made no moves to unlock it. 

“Go away, Seungcheol.”

He flinched at the use of his full name, he hated when you called him that and you knew it. “Ok, I’ll leave you alone for right now, but please know that I did not mean that. I’m not mad at you, I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you, and I’m not going anywhere. Ok, baby?”

He heard a few more sniffles and a soft “ok”, before planting himself against the wall opposite the bathroom door. He’d wait here however long he needed to. 

Jeonghan 

Now, Jeonghan can be sassy and snippy, you know this. You are used to this and you know he can sometimes be more passive-aggressive than he means to be. You two typically work very well together and you never let his snarky comments get to you. Besides, he always ends up apologizing for his moods and you two move on.

This time, however, Jeonghan knows he fucked up. It started with him being late for dinner, which isn’t an unusual thing. Practice runs late oftentimes, it can’t be avoided. But tonight was date night and he wasn’t just a few minutes late, he was three hours late. By the time he got home, dinner was cold and you were snoozing on the couch already in your pajamas. Practice had been tough, their choreographer running through the chorus what felt like hundreds of times until they were all moving in synch. He was exhausted, so instead of waking you up or carrying you to bed like he normally would, he set his things down and went straight to wash up.

The sound of running water is what woke you. You wandered into the bathroom to find your boyfriend in the shower. You crossed your arms and leaned against the doorframe. “You didn’t wake me.”

Jeonghan startled a bit, not having heard you enter. “Sorry, lovey. I’m really tired.” You could hear the harshness of his voice and for a moment you felt guilty, but then you remembered he didn’t even text you he would be running late. 

“You didn’t call or text. It was date night.”

Jeonghan heaved a long sigh before turning off the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist. “It was a long day, love, please.”

“I know, Jeonghan and I’m sorry, but you know how important these nights are to me. You’re getting ready to leave again and-”

He cut you off, voice rising, “Y/N, just stop. I’m exhausted, and you’re being incredibly clingy right now.”

“What- Jeonghan excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He brushed past you, bumping into your shoulder on his way out of the bathroom. 

“Jeonghan! Hey!” You followed after him, not realizing how hot-headed your boyfriend was right now. “You can’t just say shit like that to me!”

“You know what Y/N? I can, now for the love of God, leave me alone!” His voice was louder than you’d ever heard him speak to you before. He was yelling at you. You stood, stunned, in the doorway to your shared bedroom, but Jeonghan wasn’t done. “Either you sleep on the couch or I will, because I don’t want to be around you right now.”

Something inside you snapped, hearing those words from your usually sweet boyfriend. “Don’t bother, Jeonghan. I’ll be at my sister’s.”

You don’t even bother packing a back, just grabbing your purse and phone and leaving, despite only wearing pajamas. Jeonghan followed you out of the bedroom, watching you leave, realizing what he had done as he watched the front door slam behind you. He ran his hands through his still-wet hair, closing his eyes. “Fuck.”

Joshua

Joshua is the biggest sweetheart, so you two don’t fight very often. You have small, petty arguments sometimes, but Joshua is always the first to admit defeat, even if he wasn’t in the wrong, simply because he hates fighting with you that much. 

Tonight, though, he was on a different level of mad. Was it justified? Maybe not, but it didn’t stop him from seeing red when he saw you touching your coworker's arm when he pulled up to pick you up from work. One thing Joshua couldn’t stand, was cheaters, having been cheated on in the past. Parking his car, he honked the horn just once to get your attention.

Immediately, you turned and looked at your boyfriend, smiling wide and bright. It almost made him forget why he was upset in the first place. You turned back to your group of coworkers and waved goodbye before jogging over to the passenger door and getting into your boyfriend’s ride. 

“How was work?” He asked coldly, not bothering to look at you. “Who was that?”

You looked at Joshua confused, brows furrowing, “Who?”

“That guy you were just all over,” he responded, putting the car into drive and pulling away from the sidewalk, “you know the one you were flirting with?”

You blanched. There’s no way your sweet, loving Joshua was accusing you of something right now. He’s joking, right? “You’re joking, right?”

Joshua finally turned and looked at you, and you could tell by the look in his eye that he was dead serious. “Josh, that’s my coworker, Jihyun. I’ve told you about him before, you know the-”

“Save it, Y/N. I saw the way you were looking at him, and you knew I was coming to pick you up, did you just want to rub it in my face?! Huh?” His voice was louder than you’d ever heard it before. His usually calm, soft demeanor had completely changed and it was starting to scare you, before you could get a word in he continued, “Or do you just act like that with all your coworkers?! Like a slut?”

The dam broke and tears started streaming down your face. “Stop the car.”

“No, you’re going to tell me-”

“STOP the car Josh!” You yelled through tears. It stunned him out of his momentary anger and he blinked at you. “STOP!”

He pulled over to the sidewalk, and before he could even put the car in park you were out the door with your bag, leaving your phone behind in his center console. “Y/N! Wait!”

“Save it, Josh!” You slammed the car door and stalked away, leaving Joshua to stare, too stunned to move, but regretting his words instantly. 

Jun

“Please, baby, can we talk about his tomorrow?” Jun sighed into the phone. He was currently laying on his hotel bed, trying to fall asleep but you wouldn’t let him get off the phone. Not that he usually minded, but he was so exhausted from his shoot today that all he wanted was a few hours of sleep before he did it again. “I’m so tired, Y/N.”

“Junhui, this is important!” You whined, trying to go over the schedule for your sister’s wedding next week. He was part of the wedding party, and you were the maid of honor and it really was important that you have the times down for flights and pickups. “I just need to make sure you’re getting in before-”

“Y/N! Please!” Jun yelled into the phone, stunning you into silence. He never yelled, he was usually so calm and collected that his tone shut you up. “Just shut up, please! I can call you tomorrow and we can go over all of this, but right now I need to sleep! You have no idea how long my days are right now and listening you to whine and complain about this stupid wedding is getting on my last nerve!” The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He knows how important this is to you and your family, hell, it’s important to him because he loves you and your family so dearly. He has not idea why he said it, but he can’t take it back now.

He could hear you sniffle on the other end of the phone, but before he could even try and make amends, you cut in, “You know what, Junhui. You’re right. Don’t bother showing up.”

The call ended before Jun could say anything and he immediately tried calling you back, only to be sent to voicemail, over and over again. 

“Baby, please. I am so, so sorry. Please pick up. I’ll be on a flight tomorrow after the shoot, I swear to you. Please, Y/N.” His voice broke on his last words and he hung up the phone with tears in his eyes. 

Soonyoung

Soonyoung was loud on a good day, so arguments between you two tended to get a little bit heated. That said, they were few and far between and your loving boyfriend never raised his voice at you. Despite this, you’ve heard his anger in the practice room, you just weren’t used to it being directed at you.

“I don’t understand why you always have to be on my back about shit, Y/N!” He boomed across the practice room. You two were the only ones in the large room, the others having left about 20 minutes ago after Soonyoung dismissed them. “Why can’t you just chill the fuck out?!”

You stared at your boyfriend in shock. He had never yelled at you like this before. And over what? You telling him he should take a break? 

“Soons, I didn’t mean it like that. I just think-”

“You just think, what?! That I can just drop everything to be with you all the time?! Why are you even here right now? You should be at home, not bothering me at work!”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them fall. Not in here. “I just wanted to bring you and the boys some dinner.” Your voice was small, but Soonyoung didn’t seem to pick up on your near tears, because the yelling continued. 

“We don’t need your help, Y/N! I don’t need your help! Just go home.” He spat, turning away from you to start packing up his bags. “I’ll be at the dorm.”

Without saying another word, you turned on your heels and ran out of the practice room and into the maze-like halls of the Hybe building, but not before Soonyoung heard your little gasps for air like you were about to have a full-blown panic attack. His anger completely dissipated at the sound, dropping everything he was doing to stand up and follow after you. 

He felt like an idiot. Did he really just blow up on you, his favorite person in the whole universe, over something so silly? He was just stressed, he didn’t mean it, but now he’s hurt you, his entire world. He rushed out of the practice room, but it was too late. You were nowhere to be found, even after he searched up and down the halls, the lobby, and even the roof. Running his hands through his hair, he headed back to grab his bag and keys and started heading back towards your shared apartment. He knew he had a lot to make up for, but he wasn’t sure what state he’d find you in.

Wonwoo

“Y/N just shut the fuck up for once!”

You stood, stunned into silence, in the doorway of your boyfriend's gaming room. Wonwoo opted to ignore your figure to continue playing whatever game he was playing on his computer, headphones still snug over his head. 

You had approached him asking if he would get off the games to go out to dinner with you. You’d been asking him all week if you two could go out together since he had the next two weeks off before preparing for his group’s next comeback. He pushed off your requests but you’ve finally had enough and pushed him to come out with you tonight, but boy was that a mistake. 

You knew you were starting to get on his nerves, but you didn’t understand why. All you wanted was to spend some time with your boyfriend before we got busy again and you weren’t able to. You felt like the two of you were drifting apart and this just confirmed it. He had never yelled at you like that before, and the fact that he wasn’t even turning around to look at you sealed the deal. 

“I’m sorry, Wonwoo.” Your words were soft as you turned around, slamming the door behind you. 

Wonwoo sighed again into his mic for the billionth time that night, only this time, Seungcheol on the other end had had enough. “You’re a fucking dick, dude.”

Wonwoo blanched at that, “What do you mean?”

“You just yelled at Y/N and she just apologized?” Did you? He couldn’t hear you over his game. Wonwoo pushed one side of his headphones off so we could listen to you out in the apartment. He heard shuffling around and furrowed his brows. “Dude, go fix it, she’s probably pissed at you.” Wonwoo only nodded, not realizing Seungcheol couldn’t see him, and shut his computer off. 

As he walked into your shared bedroom, he saw the tail end of you shoving things into a duffle bag. Shocked, he rushed over to you, reaching out to grab your arm, but you flinched away so hard he was paralyzed with shock. “Do not touch me Jeon Wonwoo!”

Shit. You used his full name, you never did that. “Baby, I-”

“Don’t call me that.” You said coldly, before grabbing your bag and heading for the door. “I’ll be at Sunmi’s.” You threw over your shoulder before walking out the front door and out of Wonwoo’s life. He watched you walk away and for a moment, just stood there dumbstruck, before falling to his knees with tears streaming down his face. 

Jihoon

Jihoon could easily get into aggravated or ‘mean’ moods and after being together for so long, you’ve learned when to give him space when he needs it. But when he’s been ignoring you for the better half of the whole week, you’ve had enough.

You knocked on his studio door three times and waited for an answer. Only you didn’t get one. You knocked again, but this time you kept knocking until you heard his grumbles from the other side of the door. 

“I’m coming! Jesus, Cheol, can you-”

When Jihoon opened the door to find you, his loving girlfriend of 5 years, his words are cut short. You smile slightly at him and push your way through the entrance of his studio, plopping yourself on his black leather couch.

“Since you don’t want to leave the studio, I decided to come to you.”

Jihoon felt his anger rising. So what if he’s been in his studio and the dorms for the last 6 days? He has a job to do and this album’s due date is next week. He has limited time and not enough hours in the day to complete this. You know this, and yet, here you are to bother him. 

“Y/N, go home.” He says cooly while taking a seat at his computer. 

“No.” You say simply, a smirk on your face. “I’m here to keep you company until you’re ready to come home.”

“Y/N…” he sighed, running a hand down his face.

“Don’t Y/N me, you can’t stay here cooped up like a hibernating bear. It’s not healthy, Ji.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Y/N. You know the deadline is coming up, I have to get this done.”

“I understand Ji, but-”

“Do you?” He yells, turning his chair to face your shocked one. “Do you actually understand the pressure I’m under Y/N?! No, you don’t, because all you do all day is sit at home and answer emails and phone calls. You don’t understand how hard I work when all you ever do is lay on the couch!”

Now that hurt. Jihoon knows you work hard, he does. He has been with you since before you finished your Masters in business and before you started working for this huge tech company. He knows that you work on important projects all day and you get stressed with meeting deadlines just like he does. He knows what he’s saying isn’t fair, but he just wants you out of his hair so he can finish these songs. 

His studio was silent for a few minutes as you both just sat there staring at eachother. You swallowed hard and Jihoon could tell you were holding your tears back. “I’m sorry, Jihoon, I didn’t realize you felt that way.”

“Wait-” Jihoon stood up and followed you as you rushed towards his studio door, “I didn’t mean-”

“Yes, you did.” He could hear the crack in your voice and his heart broke at the dejected look on your face. “Goodbye, Ji.”

You walked out the door, leaving Jihoon standing in the doorway regretting all the choices he’s made this week leading up to this moment. He wants to chase after you, wants to do something, anything, but the guilt keeps him rooted in place.

Seokmin

Your boyfriend is a literal embodiment of sunshine. He’s happy-go-lucky and positive like no one you’ve ever met before and it’s one of the main reasons you fell for Seokmin. He’s so sweet, and kind, and caring, that you are constantly asking yourself how you got so lucky to be his girlfriend, the one he loves most. 

So it’s safe to say that when you hear him yelling from the other room in your shared apartment, you’re pretty shocked. You spring up from your spot on the bed and rush out into the living room to see what he’s yelling about, assuming he found a bug, or something. Only, it wasn’t a bug. Seokmin was standing in the middle of your living room holding his phone out for you to see. 

“What the hell is this Y/N?!” His face was turning slightly red and you could tell he was angry. You moved closer to him and furrowed your brows as you read the large text at the top of the article. ‘Y/L/N Y/N leader of popular k-pop girl group is in secret relationship with amateur actor Park Seungmin’ was written across his phone screen with a photo of yourself and some small-time actor you didn’t recognize. “Who is he Y/N?!”

You looked back up at your boyfriend, confusion written all over your face. “Seokmin I have no idea, you know these articles come out all the time-” before you could finish, Seokmin was moving past the couch to push the phone in your face. Feeling defensive you shove at your boyfriend’s chest a little, not enough to actually move him but to get your point across, “Seok! Stop it!”

“No, Y/N, did you think I wouldn’t find out you were fucking this guy?” Seokmin shoved his phone back into his pocket but kept pushing into your space. “Think I wouldn’t figure it out? Is this where you’ve been when you’ve said you were at practice late?” His voice was raising and you were honestly a bit scared of him in the moment. You’ve never seen him so worked up about anything. 

“Seok, listen to me-”

“No! You can’t just-” “SEOKMIN!” You screamed just to get him to stop, you didn’t even care if your neighbors heard you. “Stop it! Stop, please!” There were tears running down your face and Seokmin looked devastated, whether it was because he truly believed you cheated or because he was regretting his words, you weren’t sure. “Get out. Please!”

“I, Y/N, I’m so-”

“OUT!” You sobbed, putting your face in your hands. 

“Oh - okay, I’ll stay at the dorms, but baby-”

“Just leave Seokmin.”

Mingyu

Your huge puppy dog of a boyfriend was the cuddliest, kindest, big-hearted person you had ever met in your life. Mingyu was so kind and caring and he never, ever raised his voice at you, even when he was upset (which happened sometimes, cause you’re human!). 

Which is why it was so startling when you came home to find him hunched over his phone, sitting on the couch, looking like his world was ending. You dropped your bag by the door, not bothering to look where you tossed your phone and keys, and ran over to Mingyu and placed your hands on his knees. 

“Baby? What’s wrong, what happened?” You peered up into his large brown eyes that were looking back at you with an anger you’d never seen in them before. The look he was giving you shocked you to the point you removed your hands from his knees as if he burned you. “Babe?”

“You have the nerve to ask me what’s wrong, when YOU are what’s wrong?” He glared daggers at you as he suddenly stood up, making you jump backwards slightly, hitting your back into the glass coffee table. You flinched but stayed still as Mingyu towered over you. He pointed his phone at you showing you a string of texts between him and Soonyoung. “This, this is what is wrong, Y/N!”

Your brows furrowed as you read the text messages, but you couldn’t, for the life of you remember sending them. “Mingyu, I think-”

“What the fuck is this Y/N?!” He screamed, making you jump again and wince as you hit your back for the second time. “Are you fucking him behind my back?!” This time your wince came from the sheer volume of your boyfriend’s voice. 

“Gyu, he must be pranking you, please calm down lovey.” Your voice was quiet now, you’ve never seen him like this and it was really starting to scare you. Why would he yell at you without asking questions first? It really stung, worse than the pain you were feeling in your spine. 

He scoffed, “You have some nerve coming back here.” With that he stalked off to your shared bedroom and slammed the door, locking it behind him and leaving you there on the floor of your living room, shocked and crying. 

You stood up, grabbed your bag, and called Joshua, explaining to him what was going on as you ran out of your apartment building to call a cab and head to your brother’s.

Minghao

Your boyfriend, Minghao, didn’t have a short fuse per se, but he definitely didn’t have the patience of a saint either. But that was fine because he never directed his anger at you. You were the light of his life, his only love, and he let you know that on a daily basis. So when the words “You’re acting fucking crazy right now” came out of his mouth, it absolutely shocked you. 

“Hao, what do you mean by that?” You asked him quietly, not quite believing he would say such words to you and mean them. You were having a rough day, no MONTH, and when you got home from work all you could think about was how messy the apartment was. You got straight to work scrubbing and cleaning everything you could see and when Minghao arrived home from practice you asked if he could help you with the refrigerator. 

It set off a small argument about him being tired after a long day, but you continued cleaning even when he asked you to stop and have dinner with him. He didn’t understand, you needed to get the apartment clean before you could relax. But to tell you you’re acting crazy? You’ve never heard him say those words before. 

“You heard me, Y/N. You need to chill the fuck out! Why are you always like this when you get stressed?! You need to learn how to fucking relax because it’s getting on my nerves!” Minghao yelled into the mostly quiet apartment, the only other sound aside from him was the aircon running in the corner. 

“I - I do- don’t…” you stuttered, dropping the sponge you were holding, “I’m s-sorry Hao, I-”

“Don’t, Y/N. Just please leave me alone.” Your usually sweet boyfriend stormed past you and into your bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. 

You took a few deep breaths like Minghao had taught you previously when you’ve had panic attacks, and sunk to the floor, back against the kitchen cabinets. You couldn’t stop the tears now, so you placed your head between your knees and tried fruitlessly to get your breathing to calm down. 

Minghao was in the other room, in a similar state after what he just said to you. But all he could do was sit and listen to your sobs while he figured out what exactly was wrong with him that he would be the cause of your hurt like that.

Seungkwan

Living with Boo Seungkwan, one of the sassiest idols in Korea, was bound to lead to spitfire arguments and fights occasionally. You were used to your little spats, always making up by the end of the evening. Seungkwan had a rule, after all - never go to bed upset. 

That is why you were so shocked to receive a phone call from your boyfriend right before you got off work. 

“Y/N I need you to stay somewhere else tonight.”

“Wait, what?” You were confused, you and Seungkwan had been living together for almost a year now, and he has never asked this of you before. “Where am I supposed to stay?”

“I don’t know, Y/N and frankly I don’t really care right now. I can’t believe you told Seungcheol about our trip.”

Your heart dropped to your feet at the mention of Seungcheol, because yes, you had accidentally let it slip that you and Seungkwan were planning a weekend trip to Jeju to visit his family and have a little getaway before they went on tour. You didn’t think it was a big deal at the time, as Seungkwan hadn’t asked you to keep it a secret or anything, but the look on Seungcheol’s face after you told him told you that Seungkwan most likely never planned on telling him. 

“We have a schedule on Saturday and I was planning on skipping it, and you’ve gone and ruined the whole thing.”

“I- I’m so sorry babe, I didn’t realize-”

“Save it, Y/N. I can’t believe you would go blabbing to Cheol of all people! Do you realize what you’ve done? I got chewed out in front of the whole group during practice today!” His voice was rising and your guilt was too. “Just, find someplace to stay tonight, I don’t want to see your face. And maybe this weekend too.” At that, your boyfriend ended the call, leaving you distraught at your desk. 

One of your coworkers noticed the tears running down your face and came over to ask if you were alright, and you nodded but said you needed to head home, as something important came up. She understood and let your boss know as you gathered your things and headed down to the subway. 

Back at your shared apartment Seungkwan was pacing back in forth in the living room, unbelieving of what he just said to you. Yes, he was rightfully upset, but that didn’t give him the right to ream you like that. You would come home, right? You had to, you had a rule, after all. You never went to bed upset. 

But Seungkwan waited up for you all night, calling your phone dozens of times before it eventually turned off. You never walked through the apartment door and now he has no idea where to find you. 

Vernon

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Those were the first words you heard from your boyfriend’s mouth as you walked out of your shared bedroom after getting ready for work. 

“What’s the matter, babe?” you asked as you finished tying your hair up. 

“Don’t ‘what’s the matter, babe’ me. My fucking lyric sheets!” He held up a stack of papers that looked like they’d been soaking in water all night. 

“Oh no, what happened?” You asked, moving towards Vernon with outstretched hands as if you could actually dry the papers for him. 

“Oh, I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?! Someone left a glass of water on the table where the cat could knock it over, and guess what?! She did!” He shook at papers in your direction to emphasize his point, splashing you with frigid droplets, and making you flinch. And yes, you did leave your glass of water on the coffee table last night, being too tired to get up and do the dishes, but did he really have the right to blame you?

“Look, Vern, I’m really sorry, but-”

“Don’t even try to say it isn’t your fault because it fucking is!” Your usually quiet and calm boyfriend yelled at you in the middle of your living room. You were honestly so taken aback that you didn’t know what to say to him. Vernon was typically so cool and collected that seeing him red in the face with anger was not something you were prepared for this early in the morning. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

“You know what, Vern, I’m sorry but you don’t get to talk to me like that.” You said in a quiet voice, betraying your confident words. You walked over to the front door and grabbed your jacket and bag before turning around to look at your boyfriend again. “I’ll go to Jihyo’s after work. I’m sorry about your papers.”

Vernon watched you with wide eyes as you exited your apartment, slamming the door behind you. You were right, he shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, but he was just so angry when he came out of your bedroom this morning to find his lyrics ruined. He huffed a sigh before plopping down onto the couch and placing his head in his hands. How was he going to fix this?

Chan

It wasn’t like you to come home so late, but your annoying boss asked you to calculate some projections for next quarter 15 minutes before your clock out time and you couldn’t just tell him no, especially when you’re up for a promotion this month. So you took on the task and ended up working 3 hours of overtime. 

You were so caught up in paperwork that you didn’t even think to text Chan, your boyfriend, and let him know you’d be home late. You didn’t think he would mind, but when you sat down on the bus to head home, you checked your phone to find 9 missed calls and dozens of texts. The last few were especially worrisome.

From Channie: do you have any idea how worried i am?!?

From Channie: i swear to god Y/N if you dont call me back

From Channie: where the fuck are you???

From Channie: are you out with that guy, from work?! 

From Channie: you know what? Dont bother coming home

You furrowed your brows. Chan never usually reacted like this. You pressed the little green phone icon next to his name in an attempt to soothe whatever he was feeling, only to be met with his voicemail. Instead you tried texting him a few times, but the texts stayed green, never going through. Confused, you pocketed your phone and continued on your ride home. 

When you got to your apartment you keyed in your passcode and walked into an almost completely dark apartment.

“Channie?” You called out, setting your bag down on the console table. “Chan, what’s going on?”

All of the sudden your bedroom door bursts open to reveal a slightly tipsy Chan, stumbling towards you. “Where the fuck were you?!” He yelled, slightly slurred.

“Chan - Chan what - are you ok?” You asked, slipping your shoes off and walking towards him with your arms out to steady him.

“Am I ok!? Am I OK!? You’re out with who the fuck knows doing God knows fucking what and I can’t reach you. And you have the balls to ask if I’M OKAY?!” He roared, making you take a few steps back. You’ve never seen him this angry before, and it confused and scared you.

“Chan, my boss asked me to work on some projections, you know how he-”

“Oh fucking save it, Y/N! Just get the fuck out of my face!”

“Chan!” By now, tears were running down your cheeks, you honestly couldn’t believe your sweet and loving boyfriend was saying such cruel things to you right now. “You know I’m up for promotion and - and…” 

“And what, Y/N?! You think you can just sleep your way to the top?!”

You swung your hand back and slapped your boyfriend as hard as you could across the face. It seemed to jar him enough that he snapped out of whatever rage he was in. He blinked a few times, sobering up, before he looked at your tear-streaked face, realizing what he had just said. 

“Y/N, wait.”

“No, Chan, fuck you!” You screamed, running into your bedroom and slamming the door shut. He deserved that, he thinks. 

“Baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he knocked on the door a few times before trying the knob, it was locked, “just let me in, please. I’m so sorry, baby, so, so sorry. Let me in and we can talk, I don’t know what came over me, I was just so worried about you.” He was rambling now, but he wasn’t sure what else to do, he knew if he didn’t fix this he was going to lose you.

He could hear your sobs on the other side of the door and it was breaking his heart. He slid down the wall opposite the door, resolute to wait there the entire night until you finally opened the door.

[popjunkie42]

The Thief and the Rake: Chapter Ten

Read on AO3

The Thief and the Rake

Chapter Ten: You Know I'm Not a Bad Girl

Lucien experiences a morning in the life of Elain Archeron, the ton's new curiousity. Feyre pays a visit to the Viscount's manor and the town of Velaris, seeing an unfamiliar new side to him.

Thank you @witch-and-her-witcher for the beta read!

I've been sitting on this too long, time to throw it out of the nest. Eluciens I am figuring them out - I hope I am doing them some justice!

Read on AO3 and find a snippet behind the cut.

Although Elain missed the countryside; the slower pace, the gentler summers, and the vibrant colors of her wildflower gardens, there were certainly plenty of appealing things about city life.

Like the fine tea and decadent sweets, or the heaping platters at breakfast each morning she didn’t have to lift a finger to make. The vibrant hum of the London streets, even in Mayfair. Early morning sounds of carriages and mail and calling families and friends.

Like the lovely, bright sunlight streaming through the windows of the eastern sitting room, shimmering on red hair.

Lucien - Mr. Vanserra - had arrived just after breakfast. Filling up their doorway with a gentle smirk and an arm full of flowers.

Elain had been the first awake and ready to receive visitors, Feyre sleeping late and Nesta distracted in her room. Probably by a book if the tea tray sent to her door was any indication. Aunt Ripleigh’s social life was bustling and demanding, and she was out on women’s league business before breakfast. Their father took to dozing in the warmer rooms before his daughters took him for his afternoon walk.

It was fine - she thought. Completely fine. Lucien was their friend, all of them, and she had known him for years. He had been so gracious and accommodating as they prepared to come to the city.

Strange, that she didn’t remember that mane of red hair to shine so brightly in the countryside. Elain sipped her tea as she watched the sunlight change its color: orange and scarlet and ruby. Maybe he blended too well into the forests and fields - falling leaves, dancing waves of sorghum grass. Somehow he shined so much brighter here in the ballrooms and dining halls, everything around him dull and drab in comparison, as if all the vibrancy from the room clung to his bright spark.

It was a good thing, a comfort. That she had a familiar face to find amidst the intimidating crowds.

Elain had ignored the odd jolt in her stomach, the prickling goosebumps on her skin as he had handed her the bouquet with a soft smile and the sweep of his hat.

Lucien was their acquaintance, a forgotten son on the outskirts of London almost as much as they were. And besides, Graysen was coming later - she had to focus.

The flowers were lovely - a bit more wild and hardy than the typical hothouse bundles of perfect roses and bright tulips she usually received. Cornflowers and lady’s lace and foxgloves, an armful of blue and white.

He was clever, as always, Elain thought. The flowers were a perfect ruse to come visit Feyre casually and so early, like any other suitor, no one knowing their wild and probably inappropriate friendship forged in the woods. Turning to find a vase allowed her to hide the frustrating blush on her cheeks at his smile.

She invited him to the sitting room, a consummate host, ordering tea and making a whispered request to the maid to summon her younger sister.

Lucien and Elain had sat across from one another, the only awkwardness Elain’s unusual nerves, her guest all smiles and kind words. He poured her tea when her cup was empty, asked after her day, inquired as to the health of her family, the perfect gentleman all around.

She smiled to herself as she remembered him, laughing and tripping up Feyre’s feet as she fumed practicing their lessons. His good cheer filling the room with warmth, darting and dodging skillfully around that traditional Archeron fire.

Unfortunately, this morning, the cozy summer sunshine also glistened off the forehead sweat of one Mr. Fitzsimmons, perspiring on the couch next to Elain.

He had arrived just minutes after Mr. Vanserra - a nervous smile perched on top of bustling ruffled lace.

Lucien frowned, pouring more tea and tipping back the cup as if it were something much stronger.

The grandfather clock ticked loudly in the hall. Susan was in the corner knitting, an awkward stand-in for her lazy sisters who she was cursing every long quiet moment, her father snoring softly in the armchair by the corner.

Mr. Fitzsimmons was tall and lanky, dressed to the nines, shoes shining and cravat swallowing up his face. The man was clearly miserable under all the heavy fabric.

Elain didn’t mind the ostentatious dress, might have even found it charming if it didn’t also accompany a haughty, arrogant demeanor and poor conversational skills.

After the third sip of tea in the uncomfortable silence, her eyes met one of russet brown with a quiet plea. Lucien cocked his head to the side.

“Miss Elain, you simply must come to Bath for the winter - the hot springs will do you a world of good,” Mr. Fitzsimmons finally spoke.

She smiled good-naturedly. “I’m afraid we’ll be headed back to the country after our invitation from our Aunt is finished,” she lied.

If there was one thing all sisters were aligned on: it was never returning to that cold, sad cabin again. No matter what it took.

Elain hoped that wouldn’t have to mean Mr. Fitzsimmons.

“Oh, surely you can spare a few months for some more society…what appeal can the country have?”

A muscle in her eye twitched. It was too early in the morning for all her graces. To word just right her gentle refusal, to not give a hint at their desperate lack of any means.

“Well, I - I always thought the country -”

“I would imagine the country very appealing to you, sir.” Lucien interrupted. “I very much thought your outfit inspired by the cock-of-the-woods.”

The man huffed an uncertain laugh. Elain tensed at his displeased look, even under the smile.

“Clever. Do you, ah, call upon Miss Elain often, Mr. Vanserra?”

“Oh no, I’m waiting for Miss Feyre, as it were. I’m told she can take quite a while to get ready in the morning. Fortunately I wasn’t otherwise engaged today. I could end up spending all morning here. You know these ladies and their fussy ways.”

Mr. Fitzsimmons had suddenly remembered he was late for a cricket match, and left in a flurry of lace.

Lucien watched him bow and leave with no hidden amount of amusement.

“You know, you can ask them to leave,” he said when the man finally left the stoop.

“They come all this way to see me. I don’t want to be rude.”

“Don’t you know, Miss Elain, it’s the ladies that make all the decisions in this game of courtship?” Elain’s brow furrowed in confusion. Lucien smiled. “See how the gentlemen come to perform, to dance like plumed birds for you? You have the ultimate power: that of rejection.”

Elain hummed, turning away from that earnest look and returning to her spot on the couch beside the windows. She certainly didn’t feel in control, in power, navigating the string of suitors and her sisters every waking moment. “I suppose you’re right. We have the power to say no. But it’s short lived, is it not? Only until marriage, then our lives follow our husband’s.”

The fabric of her dress was soft under her nervous fingers. It felt odd to talk about this, so openly. Especially with him.

Her sisters were far from romantic - Nesta fiercely pragmatic about every gentleman, Feyre uninterested in the whole affair. But Elain - Elain had plenty of time to sit and think about her future. Tried on each suitor in her mind, imagining them old and grey together, trying to picture their contentment.

So many had fallen short in her mind. Until Graysen, she supposed.

Lucien had her pinned again under that heavy stare. Curious and bright. She could almost imagine the sunlight on his hair like streaks of white -

“But the choice on who that is, is yours. As is how you spend your time. Don’t let the bores and brutes hog all of it.” He gave her a roguish smirk.

“Mr. Vanserra!” she chided. “They’re not all so bad. And how will I determine which ones are bores and which are brutes if I never give them a chance?”

“Well I certainly wouldn’t take Miss Nesta’s opinion on it.”

She laughed. He beamed at her. In a way that made her quiet again, remembering Susan and her father so close by.

Elain looked away, pulling at the fabric of her skirt. “I’m sorry Feyre isn’t here. She’s probably fussing, getting ready for Lady Morrigan.”

“The Viscount’s cousin?” His usual jovial smile turned to a frown, a crease in his brow.

“Yes they…” Elain fought the urge to tell him everything. He was their friend, who knew what they were and where they came from. And if Feyre was being foolish, as Nesta had said, maybe Lucien could be the one to talk her out of…whatever was going on with the Viscount.

But if Feyre hadn’t told him, hadn’t even told her sisters the details…Elain couldn’t betray her trust. “I guess she’s working for him. Her usual…odd jobs.”

Lucien hummed, drumming his fingers against his thigh. “It’s alright, though. I wanted to see you.”

“Me?”

“Did you think I came for Miss Nesta?”

Elain laughed in spite of herself, face frozen in a nervous smile.

Lucien opened his mouth -

“A Mr. Jones to see you, Miss.”

As Thomas the footman stepped swiftly out of the doorway, Elain watched Lucien - a quick tightening of his jaw, almost easy to miss, until he swallowed and turned back to her with a schooled grin.

She could hear the taunt in his voice, teasing but soft, practically read his thoughts through the gentle curve upward of an eyebrow as Mr. Jones stepped into the room.

If she wasn’t careful, she was going to insult half of her suitors before lunch. Lucien would needle more laughter and drip measured insults like honey from his tongue until the Archeron drawing room was known across the city as hostile ground.

She had to keep her wits about her.

Mr. Jones was not a brute.

He was, however, determined not to let a single awkward silence plague the morning again.

He was short and stout, dressed plainly. The man was a widower of some years, and Elain bit her cheek when she had the wandering thought of if he had talked his late wife to an early grave.

A terrible thought. It must be the influence of Mr. Vanserra.

The man was just launching into a detailed description about his dinner last night when -

“Do you hunt, Mr. Jones?” Lucien asked.

He stuttered, the rhythm of his one-sided conversation halted. “Um, pardon?”

“Hunt? Fox, deer, fowl? I was just trying to imagine you stalking quietly through the forest, so as not to disturb a hare. I found it…difficult.”

Elain bit back her smile. Something in her rose to his challenge. These were her guests after all. She wouldn’t allow him to steal the show. Elain was kind, generous, the perfect hostess. Mr. Vanserra wouldn’t ruin her reputation for it.

She put a gentle hand on the other man’s arm, smiling serenely at Lucien. “Mr. Jones is actually an amateur ornithologist. Quite knowledgeable. Why, just a few days ago he was regaling me with tales of the wood warbler…”

Mr. Jones opened his mouth, a finger up to expand upon the finer points of bird watching -

“Well enough, but I’ve always thought the thing that recommends a man the most is a variety of interests and expertise - able to travel in wide circles, entertain at a moment’s notice, be of use and good cheer. An expert is only needed in the rarest of situations. Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Elain?”

“Well I think what recommends a man the most is a kind heart and gentlemanly behavior towards his fellow man.”

A smirk, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “A high standard, indeed. Perhaps if the gentleman is lacking, he may make up for it by being exceedingly handsome?”

A snort, from behind the couch, Susan covering her face with a hand.

Elain blinked once, smiling into the blush on her cheek. “Perhaps he may.”

“I do also play whist,” Mr. Jones chimed in.

Lucien coughed loudly, covering his smile, while Elain flitted to her feet.

“Ah, whist! Perhaps another time Mr. Jones, thank you ever so much for your kind call!”

Confused but obedient, the man got to his feet, looking about the room and back to Elain, finally bowing and donning his hat.

The smile on Lucien’s face was uncontained, and he turned to her -

“A guest, Miss,” Thomas said in the doorway.

“Good God, Elain,” he whispered under his breath, “how do you get anything done with your day?”

Elain let out a petulant huff, schooling her face back into neutrality.

“The Grand Duke Nolan.”

Stillness filled the room. A sudden coldness, like a fire banked. And then the Grand Duke strolled into the room, his smile warm, energy high, pulling off his gloves with a quick movement.

He paused for a moment at Lucien.

“Oh, Mr -?”

“Vanserra. We’ve met.”

“Of course, apologies.” His eyes flickered to Elain. “So you and your sisters have recovered from the Hampton ball? Is the old Viscount still pretending he isn’t courting your sister?”

Graysen motioned the maid for tea, sitting down with a flourish of his hat, comfortable and at command.

Elain had to admit she liked the way he was so at ease, so always able to swoop in and smooth over any problem or hiccup with his air of confidence.

Some might call it arrogant, but it was his place in society, and she liked that he moved through it with a smile and general good cheer.

Still, Lucien remained standing.

“Are you staying, Mr. Vanserra?” the Grand Duke asked, sinking in comfortably

into the flowered couch.

Elain turned to him, feeling sick at his newly closed off look, confused at the unsettled feeling rattling around her rib cage.

Graysen required attention, her the host, and she felt some terror at the thought of Lucien tearing into him, how he might react, the two of them swiping at one another…

Lucien looked at her for a moment, his eyes suddenly sad, then stood straight and tall, a hand behind his back. “No, it seems Miss Feyre is otherwise engaged this morning. Thank you for entertaining me in her stead, and give her my regards, Miss Elain.” She started at the cold, impassive politeness, the formal stance, the eye that was suddenly unreadable.

“I will. Thank you Lu - Mr. Vanserra.”

And with a swift bow, he was gone.

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– •

[whovianofmidgard]

Summary: Finrod and Maedhros talk about their experiences with Sauron. Not of the torture and pain he inflicted on them, but instead of how much of a preening, narcissistic peackock he was, always going on about how beautiful he was. Celebrimbor and Maeglin join in on the gossip.

Inspired by this post by @inthehouseoffinwe

Snippet:

The Gardens are a place of healing and tranquillity, a transition for the newly re-embodied between Death and Life. There is quiet, but not the lack of all sound that forces a fëa to fill it with thoughts of contemplation like in the Halls. It is the quiet of nature, where the breeze gently rustles the canopy of leaves, where the slow flowing stream trickles along the bend, where the bees buzz about the pastel petalled flowers. A quiet filled with life, a quiet that is peaceful.     

"So..." Finrod, a visitor to the Gardens, one re-embodied long ago and in no urgent need of healing, breaks the silence.   

"So..." Maedhros, newly released from the Halls and still reacquainting himself with his new hröa, rumbles back in answer.   

A short pause, where they allow a red robin to say his piece as he flitters by, and the two elves size each other up. Finrod is bright eyed, his golden hair shimmering in the scattered beams of sunlight filtering through the leaves. He is a riot of colours, of expensive fabrics and jewels, smiling comfortably and perfectly settled in his skin, a paragon of joviality, just as Maedhros remembers him from his youth. There is the silver outline of a large lupine bite mark across his exposed throat.   

Maedhros' eyes are no longer dark and haunted, though neither light with innocence like in his youth. His hair is neither sparkling copper wire, nor a fountain of red blood, but the in-between that turns out to be the fluffy orange coat of a fox. He is getting used to his soul being clothed in flesh again, the breeze lightly caressing his unmarred skin, the smooth stump of his still missing right hand absently running through the soft grass he sits on.   

"Sauron, right?" Maedhros dips his toes into the murky waters of what some would consider a fraught topic of conversation.   

Finrod raises a curious brow but grins nonetheless. "Sauron, indeed."   

Maedhros sagely nods, and in a grave tone he declares, "What a pompous ass."   

"Eru Ever-loving! I know right?!" Finrod throws his head back as he cries out. "He was such an insufferable peacock!"   

"Always strutting about the dingy dungeon corridors like he was on the latest Vanyar fashion exhibit," Maedhros complains.   

"Yes!" Finrod exclaims. "Like every time he came down to our prison cell, he was wearing something different. Flowing robes, black silk dresses, giant fur coats, a full set of armour..."   

"Jewel encrusted layered skirts, gold embroidered mantle with a ten feet train behind him, lace tunic that left so little to the imagination he might as well have walked around completely bare chested..." Maedhros lists off.   

Finrod leans in, an almost manic glint in his eye, and regardless of their perfectly secluded spot in the Gardens, he drops his voice to a whisper like all the old Tirion gossips do at dinner parties.   

"Once he passed the cell I shared with Beren twice in less than an hour, and he was wearing two entirely different outfits both times."   

"Nooo," the eldest son of Fëanor gasps in mock disbelief, barely containing the delighted toothy grin that wants to break out across his face.   

"Yes, he did!" Finrod cries. Then continues, "I will never forget the loud echoing sound of his clip-clopping steps as he marched down the stairs in his..."   

"...stupid twelve-inch high heeled steel boots," they both say at the same time before dissolving into tittering laughter like a pair of old mortal ladies. 

Read the rest on Ao3

[cailinsblog]

The Girl of His Dreams-Connor bedard

Connor bedard x reader

Masterlist

It was an ordinary Wednesday afternoon, or so it seemed to Connor Bedard. He’d just finished a practice with the Chicago Blackhawks and was heading back to his apartment, mentally preparing for the upcoming game that weekend. But something in the air felt different today. Maybe it was the anticipation of his first full season in the NHL or maybe it was because of the event he couldn’t get out of his head—meeting her.

Y/N.

Connor had seen her across the room at a charity event a few weeks ago. She had caught his attention the moment she stepped into the venue, her warm smile lighting up the place. She wasn’t the type to draw attention, but there was something so magnetic about her presence that Connor couldn’t look away. He had been too shy to introduce himself that night, but it didn’t stop him from wondering who she was. The days that followed, Connor found himself thinking about her more than he wanted to admit. She was smart, kind, and beautiful in a way that was so effortless. He wasn’t even sure if he would ever see her again, but that didn’t stop him from hoping.

Then, by some stroke of luck, fate had intervened.

He had seen her again, this time at a coffee shop near the rink. She was sitting by herself, typing away on her laptop, completely unaware that the hockey star she’d caught the eye of was just a few feet away from her. Connor’s heart raced when he realized it was his chance. He had practiced this moment in his head so many times, yet he couldn’t remember the last time he had been so nervous.

As he approached her table, his palms were sweaty, and his nerves were nearly unbearable. He cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. “Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

Y/N looked up, surprised to see him standing there. But her reaction wasn’t what he had feared. Instead of being starstruck or awkward, she just smiled, her eyes soft and inviting. “No, go ahead.”

Connor hesitated for a moment before sitting down, his heart still beating faster than it probably should have been. “I… I’ve seen you before. At the charity event. I’m Connor.”

Her smile grew, and for the first time, Connor felt himself relax. “Y/N,” she replied warmly. “Nice to meet you, Connor.”

The small talk flowed easily after that. They talked about their favorite coffee orders, what brought them to the charity event, and how Connor was adjusting to life with the Blackhawks. But as much as they talked, Connor found himself becoming increasingly aware of how badly he wanted to ask for her number. Every moment he hesitated felt like a missed opportunity.

After what felt like an eternity of talking, Connor finally took a deep breath and said, “I know this is a little forward, but would you want to maybe grab dinner sometime? Or… I could give you my number, and you could text me if you’d like?”

Y/N looked at him for a moment, as if considering her answer. The silence between them felt deafening, and Connor could feel his heart thudding painfully in his chest. But then, to his relief, Y/N smiled again, her eyes twinkling. “I’d like that. I’ll text you,” she said as she jotted down her number on a napkin.

Connor smiled wider than he ever thought he could. His nerves were still there, but now they were replaced with a wave of happiness and excitement that was impossible to ignore.

Over the next few days, the two of them texted back and forth, getting to know each other better. Their conversations were effortless, filled with inside jokes and shared laughter. And then, after a couple of weeks, Connor finally worked up the courage to ask her to one of the Blackhawks games.

“Hey, so I know this is a little last-minute, but would you want to come to the game with me tomorrow? I’ll get you tickets,” he asked over text, his fingers hovering nervously over his phone screen.

Y/N didn’t even wait a minute to respond. “I’d love to!” she replied, and Connor could feel his heart race again.

He picked her up the next evening, his nerves threatening to get the best of him. But when he saw her standing outside her apartment in a cozy sweater and jeans, he forgot all about the nerves. Y/N looked incredible, and as she climbed into the car, she flashed him that same warm smile that had first captured his heart.

At the game, Connor could hardly focus. He was too busy sneaking glances at Y/N, watching the way her eyes lit up when the crowd cheered. It was obvious to him that she wasn’t just interested in the game; she was genuinely excited to be there, to be a part of this part of his life. During a break in play, he handed her a Blackhawks jersey, the number 98 stitched onto the back.

“For you,” he said shyly, his cheeks flushed.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” he said with a grin. “You’re a part of this now, too.”

She accepted it with a laugh, pulling it over her head right there in the stands. “Thanks, Connor. I’ll wear it proudly,” she said, looking down at the jersey.

He couldn’t help but grin, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness. It was all so surreal—the idea that this amazing woman was now a part of his world.

But little did Y/N know, the real challenge for Connor was yet to come.

The night after the game, Connor found himself tossing and turning in bed. The Blackhawks had just finished a tough game, one where Connor had missed a crucial shot on goal. He knew he was capable of so much more, and the weight of letting his team down started to eat away at him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had failed.

So, at 3:00 AM, he did something completely out of character—he got in his car and drove to Y/N’s apartment, convinced that he needed to talk to someone who could help him put his thoughts at ease.

He knocked gently on her door, his nerves back in full force as he waited for her to answer. A few moments later, the door opened, and Y/N stood there, her hair tousled from sleep but her eyes soft with concern when she saw who it was.

“Connor? What’s wrong?” she asked, immediately stepping aside to let him in.

“I just… I don’t know. I had a bad game, and I feel like I’m letting everyone down,” Connor admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N’s heart ached as she walked toward him, gently taking his hands in hers. “You’re not letting anyone down, Connor. You’re young, and you’re still learning. You have so much potential, and there’s so much more to come. This is just the beginning for you.”

He looked at her, feeling the weight of her words settle into his chest. For the first time that night, the tight knot of anxiety loosened, and he felt a wave of calm wash over him.

Y/N reached up and cupped his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “You’re going to do amazing things, Connor. But you need to be kind to yourself, too.”

Connor smiled, the burden lifting off his shoulders. He leaned in, his lips brushing gently against hers in a soft kiss. It was full of warmth and comfort, a kiss that reassured him everything would be okay.

When they pulled away, Connor rested his forehead against hers, feeling safe and secure in her arms.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Y/N smiled softly. “Anytime, Connor. You’re not alone in this.”

As he held her close, Connor realized that meeting Y/N had been the best thing to ever happen to him. She wasn’t just the girl of his dreams; she was the one who would help him believe in himself when everything seemed overwhelming.

And in that moment, Connor knew that no matter what happened on the ice, he had someone who would always be there for him—someone who would love him not for his successes, but for who he was.

And that, more than anything, was enough.

---

[xo-myloves]

Helloooo 🫶🫶 i'd like to request a steven adler x f!reader where you get pregnant but you don't wanna keep it, and steven does. Idk if you're into angsty things 😭😭😭 but i love a good cry lmao

A/n: of course!! I love this idea, and Steven little cute self!!

(This includes smut, dirty talk, cursing, angst, unwanted pregnancy, arguing, hair pulling, squinting, ass smacking, I think that’s it, if not tell me!! :3)

𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝙻𝙸𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳

I’ve been in-love with my boyfriend Steven for a while now, we had met through izzy, I’ve been friends with izzy since grade school, then after we moved to LA, more like ran away, we also ran away with our good friend bill bailey, who is now known as “axl rose”.

They started the whole band thing, now they are huge, after their first debut album came out, if was life changing, nothing was happening at first, it took a while for the album to blow up like it did, now their rockstars.

This includes Steven, my baby, he immediately caught my eye when he joined the band, axl hated him, he was best friends with slash, izzy didn’t mind him, duff was nice to him, and i fell head over heels for this man, maybe it was the golden locks, maybe it was the way his finger would spin with the drum sticks, maybe the dreamy blue eyes,I couldn’t get enough of him.

after they got signed and the album blew up, Steven was always trying to be closer to me, he wanted me to know he wasn’t going to leave me, or cheat on with groupie, which was sweet, but I couldn’t believe him fully, he was always fucked up and shit happens…..

The guys are on tour, and Steven decided to bring me along with him, it wasn’t a problem since I was cool with everyone, well, besides axl, we were close, but the second I started dating Steven, everything changed.

He would almost look down at me, like I should be ashamed almost, which I never was, but then I started to second think everything, maybe something was happening and I didn’t know about it, or axl is just being a pain in my ass. Probably that.

It was the aftermath of the show, I was sitting in the green room, waiting for Steven, I was sitting on the couch that sat in the corner, I was in a short leather skirt, paired with a red tank top, to finished it off with fat ass combat boots, the skirt was extremely short showing off my fishnet covered legs perfectly, and I was honestly desperately waiting for Steven, I need him.

Seeing him on stage, drumming like there’s no tomorrow, the way his foot would bang against the kick drum, feeling the beat in my chest, seeing his hair fly everywhere, his hands shooting yo and spinning the sticks through his finger, remembering all the times he used them on me.

I knew after this show I was going to make it worth his while, I waited impatiently, bouncing my leg up and down, my palms rubbing along my knee caps, the finally.

My love.

My baby.

My world.

Steven walked through the door, with that goofy ass smile on his face, happier than ever to see me, he came running to the couch, I stood up, opening my arms waiting for his hug.

“Hey beautiful, I missed you.” He spoke into the crook of my neck, his hair tickling my face, as his hand made it way down my waist, one of my hands were on the back of his neck, the other in his hair.

“Hi baby, I missed you too.” I spoke out, he lifted his head, putting his hand behind my ear, to my neck, looking into my eyes deeply, pressing his forehead against mine, then I brought my lips to his, making my craving for him even stronger, I pushed his face into mine more, making this kiss even more passionate then it was supposed to be, then he stood up straighter, leaning his neck down still having his lips attached, now having both of his big hands on my waist.

Gripping slightly before pulling me closer, having his furry chest touch my own chest, feeling it on breasts since how low cut my tank top was.

His hands started exploring my body, going down to my ass, giving it a slight squeeze, letting a whimper slip from between my lips, my heat between my legs were even more wet, it practically felt like it was dripping down my leg at this point.

“Why you being so lovely, not like I’m complaining, but it something up?” Steven released from the kiss, placing his forehead on mine once again waiting for a response, bringing one of his hang from my ass to my chin, making me look up at him.

“I need you Steven, right now.” I blurted out, I didn’t even realize how quick I said it, he just gave me a cheeky grin, before I knew it he was picking me up swiftly and putting me in his lap as he sat down on the couch, my legs wrapping around his waist.

My hands went for his hair immediately, he groaned in response, I did grab a little hard, then his eye met mine once more.

“Why do you need me so badly baby? Or are you being a little whore for me?” He grinned, bringing one of his hand to my skirt, pulling it up softly, as he began to drag his finger over my clothed cunt, I was wearing his favorite red lace thongs, they actually were so pretty, and I knew he knows which one they are just by touching them.

I knew he could feel the wet spot on my panties, it was more than obvious, but he just pressed his finger tip directly on my clit, pressing the fabric towards it more. I let out a soft moan in response before speaking.

“I need you Stevie” I pouted my lip as I spoke, putting my face in his shoulder, he never really liked teasing so much, because he wanted to fuck too, no point in drawing it out.

Before I knew it he lifted me by hair making me look at him, as his fist was holding my hair harshly, then I felt his rock hard cock against my entrance, then sliding his finger into my panties, I groaned at the sensation.

“So wet already baby..you really did miss me, didn’t ya?” He spoke in a cocky tone, before massaging my clit with his finger tip, I gaped slightly, partly my lips slightly.

After rubbing my swollen numb for a few moments, he slide his slender finger into me, feeling him inside of me was already euphoric.

I was so needy for him, it was honestly depressing, but I couldn’t give two shits right now.

“All of this just from my hand?” He smiled, kissing up my neck as he added another finger into my heat, starting to pump into me, making my moans getting a bit louder.

“Steven, come on, I need all of you.” I breathed out, starting to grind against his fingers, his eyebrows rose, being surprised by my actions. But he gave in to my demand. Pulling his lace up leather pants down as quickly as he could.

He pulled out his member, stroking it a few times before rubbing his tip against my slit, making whimpers and moans slip out of my mouth, before giving me what I finally wanted, his hands made it way to my hips, making me roll of his rock hard member, groans leaving his lips, he fell further back in the couch we were on.

His right hand slide down from my hips, going to my ass, gripping it harshly before leaving a hard smack against it, making me gasp slightly, he just had a half smirk on his face, he was just enjoying the pleasure he was having.

My hands were in his shoulders for support, my body was against his for the most part, finally my adrenaline hit kicked in, I ripped my top off, leaving me in my lace bra, I just grabbed his head, stuffing him in my breast, before a I felt a bite on the top of my boob, making me gasp in pain and pleasure.

Since he decided to do this act, I pulled out of him completely, as he whimpered in the lost of me, I slammed back into him, having him moan louder than he ever has done.

“F-F-fuck baby, Jesus Christ.” He moaned, flinging his head back from my breasts, His cock deliciously hit your sweet spot with expertise, he just knows how to make you feel good,feeling the climax build up more and more on your stomach on each thrust he gives, you're almost there. It was so soon. Too soon.

His breath started to get heavier, I knew he was as close as I was. This was a different kinda on climax that was hitting my core, after a few more thrusts, lots a moans and scratch’s.

“Shit Steven, I-im go-gonna cum.” I panted out , barely holding on any longer, I felt his head go to the back of my head, making me look into his, half lidded eyes, he started nodding before speaking once again.

“Cum for me baby, just like that.” His hand that was originally on my hip, went to my clit, rubbing it back and forth, making my legs tremble, after that, it took me to my edge, I think it took Steven to his edge as well.

I squirted all over his hard warm veiny cock, rolling my eyes back, hearing the gush of liquid hitting his stomach and thighs, it dripping down mine, then after a few seconds later, a felt a stream on hot cum coated my abused walls.

Then I finally realized, Steven just came inside of me, we rarely did that, if we did, he had a condom on, he was still enjoying his high, I felt a panic take over my body, after I cooped myself back to normal, I immediately got off of him, putting my clothes back on, he was confused why I got off so quick.

“What’s wrong hun?” I heard Steven voice, in a soft warm tone, I just looked back with a haze over my eyes.

“You fucking came in me” I snapped back at him, I never wanted fucking kids, I hated them, especially a mini me? Mixed with Steven, might as well bring satan back to fucking life, and Steven can’t be a father right now, he is a addict, and I’m partly responsible for that, I was previously, and when I met him he began doing smack with me, I just never realized how back it would react on Steven.

I did it for fun, when I was out with friends, when there was a party, Steven does it to survive at this point, he can’t live without it, if he does, he will have the worst withdrawals, and he refuses to go through that.

“So what?” Steven popped his head up, speaking to me in a slight annoyance, “are you fucking kidding me?” I blurted out, what was not getting through his head.

He finally stood up, pulling his pants up, looking at me extremely confused and annoyed.

“What’s the big deal? If anything we get to have a mini you or me” he gave a goofy smile, trying to lighten the mood, I just felt anger go through my body.

“We can’t be fucking parents!? Are you shitting me? Do I really have to go into detail why we can’t?” I argued with him, getting closer to him, I could see he was getting more upset than angry, we never have talked about kids, and this was all too sudden.

“I’m sorry okay, it will be fine trust me, you won’t get pregnant.” He tried to calm me down, putting a hand on my shoulder, I just pulled away from his touch, I couldn’t be in this fucking room anymore, so I left him in his dressing room alone.

𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛

I had been freaking out for the last few days, after everything happened with me and Steven, we haven’t been talking a whole lot, he mostly been with the guys, I just stayed there like a side character, I just needed a way to get to a grocery store. I needed to make sure k wasn’t pregnant, I haven’t had any symptoms, I don’t think at least, but how would I even know, I don’t know what it’s like feeling pregnant.

I felt myself starting to panic once again, so I took the liberty to go alone to the market, I was left alone in the hotel me and Steven were staying in, he was at a show, I told him I didn’t wanna go tonight with him because I didn’t feel good, which wasn’t a 100% lie, I didn’t feel good, not one bit.

After I made my way to the store, having to walk since I didn’t have my car, I was thankful that it was right down the road, after I got the test and bought it, I just came back to the hotel, not a lot happened in the store.

I was back in the hotel room, I ripped that box open like it was a kid on Halloween with candy, I needed to know already, I went straight to the restroom, grabbing the test and pissing on the stick, it said it would take two minutes after you pee on it, to give me results, those two minutes felt like eternity.

But my worst nightmare came true when it was done. It was positive.

Holy fuck.

What do i do?

A/n: I hope I did this correctly like you wanted, I have never written on here. And this was new for me but I think I did it right sooo yay!

[blue-eli]

Skuld in quantum design :)

[sysig]

Coming in to play! (Patreon)

[mbirnsings-71]

Hello Tumblr, all I can offer is the idea of favorite duos dancing with each other okay that is all

[sanji-screenshots]

I'm FINALLY through with Dressrosa which means I'll be seeing our main man again soon, but now I'm thinking about how long I'm going to be in Whole Cake Island... like it took me a (relatively) long time to get through Dressrosa and Sanji wasn't even there for most of it! With WCI I'm going to be pausing every 5 minutes to get screenshots! Lord help me, I'm going to be stuck there for the rest of my life...

[edienotsedgwick]

In light of my hit post talking about Hayley Williams (Paramore generally, but still-) rightfully being acknowledged as part of the trinity, I just wanna shoutout all the other girls I loved in this era too cause I don’t think bandom anywhere loved ALL the girls as much as I did back then. Cassadee Pope??? Still love her sm! She was my biggest crush when I was in bandom actually. Greta Morgan??? An actual queen. I hope she’s doing well finding her voice again and having a good day. Ashlee Simpson??? Deserved better tbh! That ~one~ performance did not stop me from always jamming her music. Sierra Kusterbeck??? UNDERRATED! Everyone please just stream Versaemerge her voice is incredible.

[skrunksthatwunk]

FINISHED GAIDEN

[nguyenfinity]

In 2018, I made Fight Kiddo as a way to vent frustration with some stuff, but I didn't know what to name her 'cause I didn't really wanna call her Fight Kiddo the entire time. I ended up naming her after my grandma, an incredibly kind and loving lady who would not put up with people's bs.

She passed away year ago today (or. a year and a day ago today because tumblr formatting decided to be difficult, sorry) and like. When I say my 2022 sucked I mean like I caught covid the day before she passed away so for me it was just. Yeah it sure was a summer. It was a rough time to say the least but kept the fight goin huh?

I wanted to bring Fight Kiddo back to honor her namesake in a way, and though I can't do much else now besides draw this for her, I do thank you so much for reading along <3

Con vẽ cái này cho bà ngoại, con nhớ ngoại nhiều mà con mong ngoại thích nhe.