#this has been in my drafts for nearly a decade

[wienerlicious]

okay but rhodey loses tony and he spends 3 months frantically searching for him on the other side of the planet even though the world is telling him tony is dead and the military is ready to disavow him

but steve loses bucky and is like welp he ded

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[lumosandnoxwriting]

look at you || Fred Weasley

Title: Look at you Pairing: Fred x Reader Summary: distance really does make the heart grow fonder. Warnings: NSFW - minors DNI! This contains, vaginal sex, female receiving oral, breeding kink, mentions of cum marking, dirty talk, praise, mentions of sex toys/sexting and pregnant sex.  A/N: hockey!fred could hit me with his car and I would say thank you. Anyway as always this is dedicated to @darthwheezely b/c she always encourages my shenanigans. 

The away games are always the hardest. 

Fred is usually gone for a week, and between traveling, playing multiple games and the time differences they mainly communicate via text and maybe a phone call if they’re lucky. At first the lack of communication bothered Y/N. They moved across the country after Fred got drafted and it felt isolating to have the only person she knew in Washington unavailable most of the time. But now that Fred’s in the fourth year of his contract Y/N is a pro at handling the distance. Her and a bunch of the other WAGS always get together to watch the games at someone’s house, and usually do dinner or brunch on some of the days the guys are gone. And now that she’s working and more involved in the area she’s got plenty of friends and activities to keep her busy while Fred is away. 

She figured this season would be just like the others, that it would suck while Fred is gone but she’d just keep busy until he was back home in their bed. 

Until those two little pink lines stared up at her from the bathroom counter the night before training camp started. She wasn’t totally surprised at the result, considering her and Fred had been together for a decade, married for half of that and regularly relying on the pullout method as their main form of contraception. And of course they’d talked about having kids, but their general consensus had been that they would start trying once the season was underway, hoping to time it just right that their baby would be born at the beginning of the off season, so they could spend the first few months as a complete family unit before hockey took over Fred’s life again. 

But of course life decided to say fuck their plans, and now Y/N is due to give birth just before playoffs begin in April. 

Y/N had thought that having Fred gone during her first trimester would be the worst part of it, having to deal with morning sickness and those first few doctors appointments by herself. But the nausea and vomiting left her feeling so gross she was glad Fred didn’t have to see her like that, and they were able to work with her doctor so that Fred didn’t miss a single appointment. 

It’s now, with Y/N into her second trimester that Fred’s absence seems to be hitting her the hardest. Her bump has finally popped, and she can barely keep her hands from stroking over the smooth skin at all hours of the day. The baby has started to move around too, starting off as gently flutters she assumed was gas that have now grown into distinctive pushes against her belly. Not to mention the nausea and vomiting that plagued her first few months of pregnancy have faded away, and Y/N finally understands what people say when they talk about pregnancy glow. Her skin is the clearest and softest it’s ever been, and her hair and nails look amazing thanks to her prenatal vitamins. 

And just as she passed the five month mark her newest, and most annoying to deal with on her own, pregnancy symptom started. 

She’s unbelievably horny every hour of the day. 

Her newly filed out breasts constantly ache, and some days her nipples are so sensitive just the material of her bra sends a shiver down her spine. Her pussy is almost constantly slick, her clit throbbing and her cunt aching to be filled. Once the seam of her maternity jeans pulled so deliciously against her as she was driving that she nearly crashed the car as she came from that brush alone. 

Everything seems to turn her on these days, no matter how inconvenient the time or place is. 

Like right now, the guys are on the last leg of their longest away game stretch, the final game of a two and a half week trip, and her cunt is dripping as she watches Fred punch the other team’s center in the jaw. Not only is it inconvenient because she’s sitting on Melaine, the goalie’s girlfriend’s couch, but because Fred isn’t due back home until tomorrow afternoon and she passed out last night before she could put her vibrator back on the charger. And her own fingers will never live up to the memories of how worked up Fred gets after a fight, and how the only thing that seems to calm him down is taking Y/N from behind as he growls in her ear. 

She tries to shift subtly as the ref throws Fred in the sin bin, his mouth still moving wildly as he throws insults at the other team, but when Rachel throws her a look Y/N knows she’s been caught. Rachel is the wife of one of the defensemen, and had been heavily pregnant for most of last year’s season, so Y/N figures she knows exactly how she’s feeling right now. 

“Tomorrow afternoon can’t come soon enough,” Rachel teases, voice low enough so only the two of them can hear. 

Y/N snorts in laughter, nodding in agreement. “You have no idea.”

-

Fred throws a middle finger over his shoulder as he rushes towards his truck, causing his teammates to laugh even harder. The bus had barely stopped before he was up out of his seat and making his way to the front, far too eager to get home to Y/N. Because the texts she’s been sending since he got off the ice last night have had him perpetually hard in his pants and the only thing on his mind is getting home to his wife. 

He drives well over the speed limit on his way home, praying to whatever deity that exists out there he won’t get pulled over, since he’s pretty sure his urgent need to fuck his wife is not a good enough excuse to get out of a ticket. The car is barely in park as Fred throws the door open, hockey bag left behind in his haste to get inside. In a matter of a few seconds he’s barreling through the front door, taking the time to lock it behind him before he heads for the stairs. 

“Baby?” he calls as he climbs, ripping his shirt off as he goes. He pauses to kick his shoes off, just letting them tumble back down as he continues up. 

“Hi,” Y/N greets breathlessly when Fred appears in their doorway. Her eyes are immediately drawn to the way his jeans hang open, his cock clearly fighting against the material of his boxers. 

Fred groans as he takes Y/N in, cock throbbing at the way she kneels on their bed in nothing but his jersey. The curve of her bump is visible even in the oversized garment, and Fred almost can’t believe that this is his life. He makes a living playing the sport he loves and every night he gets to come home to the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen who’s beauty has only grown as he watches his child grow inside of her. 

“Fucking hell,” he practically growls as he steps into the room, his complete focus on Y/N. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are, wife? That picture of your pretty pink pussy all wet and begging for my cock has been driving me crazy. I couldn’t sleep knowing you were all alone in our bed, desperate for my cock wearing nothing but my jersey.”

Y/N practically pants as Fred stalks toward her, hands clenched in fists at her sides to try and resist the urge to touch herself. She had to give herself a pep talk before taking the photo she sent, so to see Fred’s reaction to it here in the flesh makes her cunt throb with want. Before falling asleep Y/N had managed to work herself up to a few weak orgasms with her fingers, but those are nothing in comparison to what she knows Fred is about to give her. 

“Sexy?” she asks teasingly. Fred has finally made it to the edge of the bed, and she runs her hands up his arms and over his shoulders, resting her palms against the sides of his neck. “Even with my big old bump in the way?” 

“Especially with your big bump in the way,” Fred practically purrs. He finally gives in to his urge to touch his wife, one hand hooking around her thigh while the other fists the front of her jersey, yanking her closer to him. “Just knowing that you’re full of my baby, that I did that to you is enough to make me cum, something I know you’re well aware of.”

And she knows Fred isn’t lying. He’d always been possessive in the bedroom, and it only intensified when she got pregnant. Once her bump popped Fred was like a man possessed, needing to have one hand on it at all times. He’s finished on her bump more times than Y/N can count, rubbing his cum into her skin so he can claim her fully. 

Instead of responding Y/N lets Fred pull her into a kiss, her fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his skull as he nibbles on her bottom lip. He claims her mouth with his, crawling up on the bed so he can get even closer. The hand he had on her jersey makes its way up to cup her jaw, angling Y/N’s face so he can kiss her deeper, while the one that was on her thigh starts to travel further up.  

“Fuck,” Fred moans into her mouth as his hand brushes her bare hip. “No panties? Dirty girl.” He lets his hand cup the swell of her stomach, thumb slowly brushing back and forth in a sweet gesture that is the total opposite of the way he kisses his wife. 

“Please,” Y/N pants as Fred’s mouth finally leaves her’s, starting to press kisses into her neck. “Need you to touch me, Freddie, only feels good when it’s you.”

“Well how can I deny my wife when she asks so nicely?” 

Fred kisses the juncture of her throat one last time before pulling away just enough so he can pick her up under her thighs. He positions her back on the bed just how he wants, her back flat against the mattress with her legs spread wide, a hand on each thigh to keep them open for him. 

“You’re fucking cunt,” he groans, his eyes drawn to her slick pussy as he bites his lip. He sinks down on the bed so he’s resting between her thighs, thumb and forefinger spreading her pussy apart to put her clit on display. “This pussy is going to be the death of me.”

Y/N gasps as Fred finally puts his mouth on her, hips nearly lifting off the bed as he sucks her clit between his lips. Her toes curl as his tongue flattens against her, thighs already quivering as Fred’s thumb presses against her entrance. “God, please, Fred.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs to fuck into her with his index finger, curling it to press against the front wall of her cunt, right against the spot that has her moaning his name. His cock twitches as Y/N’s hand tangles in his hair, curling his tongue around her clit as she tugs. 

“Such a good girl,” Fred praises as he presses another finger into her slick cunt, letting his thumb rub small circles into her clit. “I love this pretty pussy so much, wife. Gonna eat it every fucking day of the week.”

He takes her clit back between his lips as he fucks her with his fingers, needing her to cum before he can give her what they both desperately need. His cock aches as Y/N grinds down against his face, the feel of her taking control of her pleasure only turning him on more. Fred’s tongue flicks at her clit as his lips suck, and he can tell by the way her cunt grips his fingers that she’s close. 

“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my hand so I can have you cumming all over my cock.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Y/N babbles as Fred licks her, fingers tugging him even closer into her as she grinds against him. Waves of pleasure are swirling in her core, electric shocks radiating all down her spine as Fred brings her closer and closer to the edge. He makes her feel like she’s on fire, completely erasing the few weak orgasms she had last night from her memory.

Fred wraps his arm around her thigh to keep Y/N in place as her orgasm takes over, his fingers and mouth still working her through the pleasure. Y/N’s toes curl as pleasure consumes her, thighs quivering as a cry of Fred’s name leaves her lips. Aftershocks of pleasure send shivers down her spine, and Y/N has to use her grip on Fred’s hair to separate his mouth from her cunt as she comes down. 

He doesn’t say anything as he crawls back up the bed, letting Y/N catch her breath before he leans down to kiss her softly. Her legs wrap around his hips, the need for Fred to be close overwhelming her need to get off for a brief moment. 

“Need you inside me,” Y/N murmurs against Fred’s mouth, her legs tightening around him. 

“Needy girl,” Fred teases, nipping at her jaw. But with one final kiss to her lips he pulls back, climbing off the bed so he can rid himself of the rest of his clothes. Who is he to deny the needs of his wife, the woman growing his child? 

Y/N makes a move to pull the jersey she’s wearing up over her head, and Fred grabs her wrist, shaking his head. 

“No, the jersey stays on.”

Fred’s pretty sure he hears her mumble something about him being a possessive idiot, but he doesn’t even care. Settling on the bed, back against the headboard with his cock leaking against his stomach, he beckons Y/N closer. “Come sit on my lap and make yourself cum on my cock, baby.”

Under normal circumstances she’d make some joke about how he’s making her do all the work, but her cunt is already aching again and if she doesn’t get Fred’s cock in the next three minutes she may die. Y/N crawls up the bed, shivering at the look in Fred’s eyes. It’s full of nothing but pure desire, and she can feel her heartbeat pulsing in her clit. At one point she feared that pregnancy may change the way Fred looks at her, and now as she straddles his waist Y/N can’t believe what an idiot she had been. 

One of Fred’s hands lands on her hip, the other on her bump and the contact sends a shiver down her spine. It takes a little bit of finesse with her bump in the way, but as soon as Y/N has Fred’s cock pressed against her cunt she’s sinking down. She’s slick enough from Fred’s mouth and her previous orgasm that she presses down until she’s fully seated in his lap, and her eyes flutter shut from the pleasure coursing through her veins. 

Fred is so thick and full inside her, and Y/N just sits there in his lap, eyes closed and her head tilted back as she appreciates the feel of him inside her. Y/N’s cunt pulses around him, and with how desperate she’s been to feel her husband like this, she already feels embarrassingly close to her climax already. 

“Fuck you are perfect,” Fred groans as her hips start to gently rock. He fixes her jersey so the hem rests on the top of her bump, wanting to see it in all of its glory. With one hand squeezing her thigh, Fred places the other on her stomach to help keep her balance. “So fucking full aren’t you, wife? So full of my cock and my baby, hm? Love being full of me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she responds breathily, leaning back to brace herself against Fred’s thighs. The new angle lets him sink even deeper, and a sharp gasp falls from her mouth at the sensation. “Always wanna be full like this.”

“With my baby or my cock?” he teases. 

“Both,” Y/N hits back truthfully.

“Fuck,” Fred growls, unable to keep his hips from thrusting. The moan that comes from Y/N spurs him on, and he continues to match her movements with his own. “Whatever my wife wants my wife gets. Gonna keep you nice and full with my cock and my cum and my babies until we’ve got a whole fucking hockey team, baby. And no one will ever doubt who you, who this fucking pussy, belongs too.”

Her cunt clenches even tighter at his words, encouraging Fred to keep talking. 

“Look at you, my pretty little wife, fucking herself on my cock. Bet you thought about this the whole time I was gone, didn’t you, love?”

“Fuck, yes,” Y/N moans. She’s inching closer and closer to her orgasm with each of her movements, thighs quivering from a mixture of the pleasure swirling in her core and the effort it’s taking to fuck herself on Fred’s cock. 

“Fuck you look so good like this, baby,” Fred praises. “Not gonna be able to take you like this much longer, am I? I swear everytime I look at you, your belly is bigger. It’s not long until you’ll be too big to ride me like this, isn’t that right, love? But that’s okay, because you look so fucking good all full of my baby. Seeing you like this, knowing I did this, makes me feel fucking feral, baby. You’re doing such a great job, growing our baby. Gonna be such a good Mama.”

The combination of Fred’s cock stretching Y/N to her limits and the constant stream of praise coming from Fred pushes Y/N over the edge, and her back arches as she comes. Shocks of pleasure jolt out from her cunt, her clit aching and her toes curling as her orgasm washes over her in waves. 

The feel of Y/N’s walls pulsing around Fred’s cock as she moans his name pushes him to his own climax, his hips just barely pushing up into her as he empties himself into her eager cunt. 

“Taking it so well, baby. Fuck.”

He places a hand on her lower back for support as they both come down, the hand he has on her bump rubbing soothing circles into the skin. When having her in his lap starts to get uncomfortable, Fred carefully lifts her off, maneuvering so he can lay Y/N next to him on the bed without jostling her too much. 

Finally feeling satisfied, Y/N watches Fred move around their room through her barely open eyes, too tired to try and stay awake any longer. She lets him move her around too clean up, a soft whine coming from her lips when he pulls the jersey up and off over her head. But she’s immediately placated when Fred helps her into one of his old t-shirts, and she doesn’t even fight him as he pulls sleep shorts up her legs. 

He disappears into their bathroom then, and Y/N is practically asleep by the time he reemerges and gets into bed beside her. But instead of Fred pulling her into his arms like she expected, her eyes open in surprise as Fred pushes up the hem of her shirt just enough to expose her bump.

“What are you doing?” she murmurs, tone laced with humor. 

“What does it look like?” Fred responds as he pours lotion into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up. He cradles her stomach carefully, slowly starting to massage her skin. “I’m taking care of both of my girls.”

[sophieinwonderland]

Catarina Claes and Low Self-Esteem - A Ramble

Here's a draft I was saving for after I wrote my Plurality of Catarina Claes post, but I haven't done that and don't feel like it, so I'm posting this anyway...

I was thinking about Catarina while scrolling through the Crunchyroll comments describing her as denser than a black hole, which while funny the first time, and the second, starts to wear on you by the hundredth.

I mean, I get a community having running jokes, but I'm talking literally every episode has at least one person saying this, and sometimes multiple.

The thing about these comments is... they're not wrong. Catarina can be really dense and oblivious. It's one of her defining character traits. Everyone knows it...

But... I think there's more to it than this where it concerns her love interests.

Catarina, in my opinion, doesn't recognize that people love her because she sees herself as unlovable.

Putting Ourselves In Catarina's Shoes

Imagine for a moment that you've always been the strange girl at school.

You have one close friend. You've never had a romantic partner. You're a disappointment to your parents who see you as just some lazy girl. And then, at 17, you die completely unaccomplished. A failure.

You get a new life though. You're reborn with no memory of who you used to be.

And the person you are now... is a brat. A spoiled rich brat who hurts everyone around her. Then you get hit on the head and have memories from your last life flood your brain.

Now there are two very different lives in your head, but there are common themes in them.

In both, you have a mom who puts you down at every turn. In both, you haven't really known love before.

And on top of all of that, you realize that your new life is as a villain. A rival who is supposed to compete with the heroine for a man who doesn't love her. Someone who only agreed to be engaged with her to avoid other offers.

This is your destiny.

And it confirms everything terrible your parents told you about who you are across two lives.

By the time she enrolls in the magic academy, she's had over 30 years to internalize her sense of worthlessness, and nearly a decade to internalize her destiny as a villain who exists only to be a rival in someone else's story.

Catarina Isn't Just Oblivious. She's In Denial.

She's built an entire self-concept around being the unlovable villainess that she literally cannot fathom anyone having genuine romantic feelings for her.

Even while she loves her friends (platonically), she's still convinced through the series that they're going to kill or exile her in the end.

No matter how many times people drop hints or even outright tell Catarina they love her, she can't accept that.

All in all, I feel dismissing Catarina's obliviousness as her just being dense (which again, she is) does a disservice to the character.

[h00nerz]

cruel summer!

“i love you, ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”

masterlist | moodboard | playlist

paring: choi yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: summer romance/fling, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, fluff, angst

word count: 30k

warnings: profanity, suggestive content, cheating, divorce, implications of sex but no smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking weed i think, that’s it afaik

summary: following a painful divorce from your father, your mother is desperate to escape from reality. it turns out, the best way to do that is to visit your childhood vacation spot you hadn’t been to in nearly a decade. you’re reunited with your old friend, choi yeonjun, who has grown from some annoying, scrawny kid into a handsome, charming man. when yeonjun sets his sights on you, it’s practically impossible to resist his charm. the only issue is summer can’t last forever, and neither can your romance.

authors note: this fic is literally six months in the making so i am beyond enthused i’m finally able to post it! this is truly a massive fic i am so so sorry but i hope you’ll enjoy reading it!! thanks to everyone who’s supported my adventure writing this thing, especially linny and sav!

IT WAS INCREDIBLE TO YOU HOW all it took was one little choice to completely alter the course of someone’s life. When you were eleven, you’d opted for a different way to walk home from school, and just happened to pass by a ballet studio where a group of dancers were practicing. From that moment on, you’d become infatuated with dance, convincing your parents to let you enroll in a studio and beginning your own career as a dancer. When you were seventeen, you chose not to go to school one day just because you didn’t feel like it, and the bus you usually took had gotten into a bad wreck that morning.

Most notable, though, was when you were twenty-one, when your dad had made the choice to sleep with your family’s housekeeper, and your mom chose to come home from her business trip a day early to surprise the family. Those two choices led to your mother catching your father in the act, and then to her retaining an attorney to draft up divorce papers. Before you even had a moment to stop and process everything that was going on, your parents were split up, and your dad disappeared without so much as a goodbye.

You expected for your mom to be more upset. After all, her husband of 25 years had just thrown away the trust they’d spend so long to build away like it was nothing, but she wasn’t. Her focus remained on her work, the same as it always had. Work was always something very important to your mother, even since you were just a little girl. Consequently, she wasn’t home very much when you were growing up, which you thought you were fine with at the time. It wasn’t until you were older you reflected back on your childhood and how it affected you. At some point, you wondered if it was part of the reason your parents’ marriage ended the way you did, but you knew it was still your dad’s fault at the end of the day.

You never suspected anything to be wrong with her until she randomly suggested the two of you go spend the summer at your old family beach house together. There was no reason she would have proposed taking an entire three months away from her work--alone with you, nonetheless--unless she was searching for some kind of distraction from all of the events that had transpired in the earlier months. 

It had been nearly a decade since the last time you visited your old beach house. You had gone nearly every summer of your childhood there, spending the long hours of the summer days building sand castles and swimming with the friends you had made while you were there. Then, when the sun was starting to set, you would wander around town with your parents, getting dinner together and then some ice cream that you would eat while you pointed out different constellations in the stars. You had amazing memories associated with the little beach town, but that's all they were. Memories.

You were now finishing up your junior year of college, and those three months of summer were the last you’d have before you started your senior year, and prepared for graduating. So, truthfully, spending an entire summer in some rinky-dink town alone with your mother did not sound too enticing. However, you knew she was going through a difficult time, and frankly so were you. You convinced yourself that this bonding experience was exactly what the two of you needed, and even though you would rather stay in your hometown and have some fun with your friends before being thrust into the real world, you decided to go. 

The little beachside town was exactly how you remembered it. Warm, friendly, and full of life. Everywhere you looked, there were people out and about, taking advantage of the city sidewalks and the nice weather to get to where they needed to go. It was a beautiful little town, and even though you hadn’t really wanted to go in the first place, you found yourself reveling in the familiar feeling. You even caught sight of the little ice cream stall on main street your family always went to in the past. A thick wave of nostalgia washed over you, and suddenly you felt like a little girl all over again. But when you looked to your left, the sight of your mother driving the car and not your father grounded you to the reality of your situation.

“Aw, look, Y/N? Remember that store? You would always pick something out to bring home.” Your mother laughed as you cruised down main street, and you peered out the window to see the little souvenir shop you always visited while you were in town. Instinctively, your fingers leapt to your neck, toying with the shell necklace you chose to wear for your trip.

“And there! Isn’t that where your little friend used to live?” She looked the most excited you’d seen her in awhile as she scanned the buildings you passed by. It made you feel better about your decision to agree to this trip.

“You mean Jisu?” You asked, tilting your head to get a better look at the house. Jisu’s family actually lived in the town, and she was one of the friends you had made when you were younger. You never really kept in touch with her outside of your time spent together, so you had no idea what she was up to these days. You weren’t even sure her family still lived in town.

“Yes, Jisu! Oh, the Chois were such a lovely family, we should stop by and see if they’re still around, maybe we could even ask them to dinner.”

She continued to point out random landmarks and recall old memories as you drove through the little town, but at some point you had drowned her out. You instead took in the surroundings for yourself, letting your own memories play out in your head. You, Jisu and your other friend Chaeryeong would ride your bikes around the town and use the money your parents gave you to get giant snow cones together. It was crazy to think that you once considered those girls to be your closest friends in the whole world, now you could barely remember what they looked like.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of your mother blabbing on about all the things your family used to do, and all the things she wanted to do now, you reached your old beach house. As soon as you saw it, you were reminded of all your childhood memories of that little house. Playing board games in the sun room, sitting on the porch and watching the sun dip down below the waves, eating waffles for breakfast every morning…

“Y/N, come on, your bags.” Your mother’s voice interrupted your little slideshow of memories playing in your brain. You would have more time to reminisce later.

A COUPLE OF HOURS AFTER YOUR ARRIVAL, most of your belongings were unpacked, and you were ready for dinner. Unfortunately for you, though, your mother was not ready, since she had apparently decided to bring her entire closet on the trip and had barely made it halfway through unpacking by the time you were finished. More fortunate, however, she told you to just go pick up dinner for the both of you from a local restaurant while she worked, so you wouldn’t have to sit around and wait for her.

Jake’s was an old burger shop that was very popular amongst the town, and for good reason, too. Their cheeseburgers were some of the best you’d ever come across during your twenty plus years on earth, and you were very excited to finally have one again after all these years. You hoped they still held up. As soon as you walked through the door, the aroma of all the different foods filled your nose, and another thick wave of nostalgia hit you like a truck. You were immediately reminded of the nights your family spent in a booth there, your mother and dad talking about whatever nonsense while you contently sipped on your milkshake that was nearly twice the size that you were. 

You had already called in the order before leaving, so all you had to do now was sit and wait for them to be ready with your food. Two double cheeseburgers, two medium fries, a large chocolate milkshake and a large strawberry milkshake. The thought of getting to drink one of those milkshakes after all these years made your mouth water.

“Y/N?” You heard a voice call out, and whipped around to face the direction it had come from. At first you thought it was your food being done, but instead it was a familiar face you hadn’t seen in years.

“Jisu! Hi!” You greeted your old friend, holding your arms out to envelop her in a warm hug. The interaction felt somehow foreign and familiar at the same time, but mostly the latter. 

“Wow! It’s been, what, nine years since we last saw each other?” She asked after pulling away from the hug, her hands still rested on your forearms.

“Something like that.” You laughed softly, taking a moment to really take in how much she had changed over the years. She obviously looked completely different, since she was a grown woman now, but she also looked exactly the same. “You still live here?”

She nodded, looking you up and down as she did the same thing you did. “Yep. I mean, I go to college out of town so I’m gone during the school year, but I always come back home when I get the chance.” She smiled fondly at you, and she had the kind of smile that made you feel all warm and fuzzy all over just at the sight of it. “What about you?”

The two of you continued to chat, catching one another up on the basics of how things had gone over the last nine years. It turned out both she and Chaeryeong’s families still lived in the area, and the two were still very close friends. She even suggested the three of you get together sometime soon, for old time’s sake. You filled her in on how you were also attending school, and still did dance as a hobby to keep you busy. You chose to leave out the part of your life where your dad cheated with the housekeeper that was only a few years older than you, and the part where your parents got a divorce. It wasn’t something you were quite ready to tell people about, not even Jisu.

You were interrupted by your name being called, which meant your food was finally ready.

“Well, I guess we should probably head back to our own places before our food gets cold, right?” Jisu suggested, clutching her own bag of food between her hands.

“Probably. I think my mom will kill me if I let her shake melt.” You replied, which earned a laugh out of Jisu.

“Hey, um, a few of my friends are having a big bonfire party on the beach tomorrow night, you should come.” She told you as you both exited the small restaurant, an invitation that made your heart flip. You suddenly felt horrible for never keeping in contact with her, because she was much sweeter than any of your friends at home. You had been in town less than twenty four hours, and she was already inviting you to spend time with her.

“Really?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows. “Yeah, I would love to come!” 

“Really?” She echoed, eyes widening as if you had just told her you would give her a thousand dollars. “That’s great! I’ll let them know you’re coming, I’m sure most of them will love to see you again!” She spoke giddily, nearly leaping out of her own skin from excitement.

You bid each other goodbye, and then went your separate ways. The entire walk back to the house, you couldn’t hide your happiness no matter how hard you tried. Maybe, just maybe, this trip wasn't going to be as bad as you had anticipated. You shouldn’t have spoken so soon, though, as you still had three months to go.

FOR THE LIFE OF YOU, you could not figure out why this party was making you so nervous. You’d spent nearly an hour in your closet, digging through your clothes and throwing them around so by the time you’d finally settled on something, your floor had disappeared under a sea of clothes. Maybe it was because you were going to be here for three months, and if you didn’t make friends now, you were going to spend all that time alone with no one except your own mother, who would surely drive you insane.

At first, you felt a bit guilty about leaving her home alone all night, but luckily for you, she had found some old friends of her own to go out with. And now, here you were, standing on the sidewalk and staring down at the beach where the fire was already going, and a lot more than a few friends had gathered to party. You were trying to find Jisu amidst the crowd of people, so you could easily approach her first, but you were having a difficult time locating her in the darkness. And you probably looked like an idiot, just standing there and waiting for something, but you would rather do that than have to go down there alone.

It had been a long time since you’d been to a proper party. Sure, you had lots of friends of your own back in the city, but most of them were too school oriented to ever attend parties, and you were afraid of going to one without at least one of your friends. So, you were definitely afraid now. 

“Yeri!” You heard a voice behind you shout, and nearly jumped out of your own skin when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You flipped around to see some guy you’d never met before standing behind you, a panicked look on his face as he held up his hands in surrender. “Oh, sorry. Definitely not Yeri.”

“No, not Yeri.” You laughed nervously, reaching up to protectively hold your shoulders. 

“Hmm, I don’t think we’ve met before? If you’re not Yeri, who are you?” He asked inquisitively, taking a step closer to you as you tried to turn away from him.

“Oh, my name is Y/N.” You replied, your cheeks warming at how close he was standing next to you. In the darkness of the night, you couldn’t quite make out his face, but guessing by the few features that were illuminated by the glow of the bonfire, you could guess he was quite handsome. The realization suddenly made you even more nervous.

“Y/N? Like Y/N L/N?” You glanced over at him to see him gaping at you in surprise, and furrowed your eyebrows together.

“Uh, yeah? Why?”

He laughed softly. “So, you don’t recognize me?” He rose an eyebrow at you, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. You could barely see his face, how were you supposed to recognize him?

“No… Should I?” You queried, tilting your head to the side as if it would give you a better view of his face.

“I don’t know… Does Crab Castle ring a bell?” And ring a bell it did. Those two words immediately gave you flashbacks to one summer you’d been in town, and one of Jisu’s cousins had come to visit as well. He and you had been building sand castles on the same beach, when you first ran into each other, and at first you had decided he was your rival. You tried everything in your power to sabotage his castles, and he destroyed your’s. But, another kid had showed up on the same beach, and his castles were much more intricate and sophisticated than either of yours’. So, you proposed the two of you teamed up to make the best castle that beach had ever seen. 

That was how Crab Castle was born, the sand castle that you had, at the time, thought was the greatest sand castle ever to be built. It had multiple towers, and archways, and you even made your own custom crab emblem to decorate the castle. It took you from sunrise until sunset to build it, and before you were dragged home by your parents, you decided to destroy it together, which had honestly been way more fun than your time spent building it up.

Your eyes went wide.

“Yeonjun?!” You laughed in disbelief, taking a step back to get a better look at him. Compared to the weird little boy you had competed with on the beach ten years ago, he was a completely different person. A taller, more muscular, and definitely more good-looking person. You couldn’t believe it was Yeonjun standing in front of you. “Holy shit, you look…”

“Taller? Hotter? More muscular?” He grinned, raising one of his arms to flex his biceps, but you hurriedly smacked his arm before he could.

“Don’t do that, weirdo.” You wrinkled your nose, and he laughed at that. “What are you doing here? I thought you lived in the city?” 

He shrugged. “My friends and I wanted to do something fun this summer, have an adventure, I guess, and I thought it would be a good idea to come spend time down here.” His gaze shifted over to the bonfire, where you assumed these friends he was talking about were hanging out. “What about you? You guys haven’t been down here in forever. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“My mom wanted to take a girls trip, just the two of us.” You told him.“And since I’m graduating next year, I thought it would be good to have one last adventure before I have to get a real job.” 

He nodded slowly, and you watched as he looked you up and down slowly, as if he was taking all of you in. “Cool, cool… So you’re here all summer then?”

“Yeah.” You answered, and began to chew the inside of your cheek. “You?”

“Yeah.” He echoed, and you felt your heart begin to race. An entire three months in the same town as Yeonjun, a boy you hadn’t thought about in half a decade, but a boy who had grown into a very, very attractive man. “We’ll have to hang out sometime. Outside of a party, I mean.” 

Your eyes widened. “Oh, sure. If I have the time.” You blink at him, completely aware of how stupid you must sound. But he didn’t seem to mind, instead letting out a little laugh at your comment.

“Well, try to pencil me in your busy schedule, okay?” He smiled at you, a smile that made your heart flutter. Jeez, you couldn’t believe how tremendously down bad you already were, after spending less than ten minutes with him. This definitely wasn’t normal for you. 

He started to walk away, as if that was the end of the conversation, but you quickly panicked. “Wait! Do you know where Jisu is? She invited me, and I should probably go and talk to her.” 

Graciously, Yeonjun led you down to the party, letting you trail behind him like some kind of lost puppy looking for its owner. Once you were down by the actual fire, the party felt a lot smaller, like there weren’t nearly as many people as you thought. Or maybe it was just because you were so focused on Yeonjun, you barely noticed the other people around you. Either way, your nerves were starting to feel much more at ease than before.

“Ahh! Y/N!” Jisu greeted you once Yeonjun had finally delivered you to your old friend, and she threw her arms around your neck to pull you in for a tight hug. You could smell the cheap beer on her breath, giggling to yourself at how tipsy she already was. “Look, Chaer! It’s Y/N!” 

She pulled away from you to let you get a good look at your other old friend, Chaeryeong, who had that same phenomenon of looking completely different yet exactly the same. She greeted you with a hug as well, cooing about how good it was to see you. As she hugged you, you glanced over at Yeonjun, who was watching the whole interaction, and mouthed a silent “thank you”. He gave you a salute before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

“Were you just with Yeonjun?” Jisu asked, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, we ran into each other on the way in. I barely even recognized him.” You explained to her, letting out a little laugh as you spoke. You expected her to laugh, too, but instead her suspicious eyes narrowed.

“He’s hot, right?” Chaeryeong giggled, leaning onto your shoulder as though you were the best of friends. Your cheeks heated up at the comment, as you frantically began to shake your head. 

“Nononono, that’s not what I meant! It’s just crazy how much people can change in ten years, isn’t it? One day, they’re a little kid throwing sand in your eyes, and the next they’re, like, a mature adult.” 

Jisu snorted. “He is not mature. You should have heard him whining yesterday when his friends were making fun of him for liking mint chocolate chip ice creams. He’s more like a baby than a grown adult.” She told you, then took a long sip of her drink. “Anyway, you should be careful around him. My aunt says he’s dated, like, six girls in the last year. He’s a whore.” She said, and Chaeryeong nodded in agreement.

“Mhm! Guys like him, Y/N, they only want one--” she leaned forward and wagged a singular finger in your face. “--one thing!” She warned you, and although you believed her, it was hard to take her seriously with how obviously out of it she was.

“Okay, I think I get it.” You laughed nervously, holding your hands up in defense. “No talking to Yeonjun. I’ll just hang out with you guys instead.” 

They seemed to like the sound of that idea, letting out loud cheers and pulling you in for another hug. “It’s so nice to have you back, Y/N! Hey, tomorrow, we should go get snow cones! Just like old times!” Jisu sang. “But, first, let’s get you something to drink!” 

THE NEXT MORNING YOU WOKE UP with a throbbing headache. You weren’t sure how much you drank the night before--actually, you weren’t sure of anything from the night before. Your memory was foggy, leaving very little that you could actually recall. 

You can remember trying to shotgun one of your cans of beer (you can’t remember if you were actually able to do it or not), and you remember telling Chaeryeong and Jisu all about your first boyfriend, and then you remember being wet. You don’t remember why you were wet, or rather how you got wet, you just remember being wet. 

You were barely given any time to adjust to the sunlight that was currently flooding the entirety of your bedroom when your mother was suddenly opening your door, the sound of her voice causing you to groan out in pain.

“Y/N, I need you to pick us up some breakfast.” She told you flatly, and you slammed your pillow down over your own head to try and muffle her.

“Why can’t you?” You asked, dragging out the last vowel. You said a silent prayer that someone would strike her down so she would stop talking to you. But also that they would do it in a quiet way as to spare your already sensitive skull.

“Because, I’m busy. Besides, you can pick yourself up some coffee, it’ll help with your hangover.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I am not hungover. It’s just allergies.” You lied, though you weren’t totally sure why you even bothered when you knew that she knew exactly what was wrong with you. “But fine. Give me a few minutes.”

With your surrender, she made a small “hmph” and closed your door, finally leaving you alone. Getting up, going outside, walking around and talking to people was your absolute worst nightmare at the moment, but you knew your mother. If she wanted you to do something, she wouldn’t leave you alone until you did it. She was stubborn, in that way, determined to get exactly what she wanted.

So, despite your body screaming at you to go curl up under your covers and die, you forced yourself off of your bed and pulled on the first clothes you could find--your old Stranger Things t-shirt your cousin had gotten you for your fifteenth birthday, and a pair of sweat shorts. To complete the look, you threw on the singular pair of sunglasses you owned--which were big, red, heart shaped ones. Personally, you thought it was the peak of fashion.

Even under your sunglasses, you were attacked by the outside light when you stepped outside. You half contemplated crawling under the porch to sleep there, since even that would be more bearable than this, but your mother would probably burn you alive if you did that. And as badly as you already wanted to die at the moment,  you would prefer it if it wasn’t by your mother’s hand.

And just when it seemed like your morning couldn’t get any worse, it did.

“Y/N?” Oh no. 

You were stopped in the middle of the sidewalk by the sound of your name. Reluctantly you turned around, filled with dread when you saw none other than Yeonjun standing behind you, observing you with an amused expression. Now you were praying it was you who would be struck down.

Yeonjun, the man you had once been enemies with, who was now extremely attractive. Yeonjun, who you were not supposed to talk to. That Yeonjun was staring at you, a smile tugging on his lips as he looked you up and down to get a good look at your current state.

“Jeez, how much did you drink last night?” He laughed, and last night you probably would have enjoyed the sound of his laughter, but now it made you want to throw up.

“I don’t know. Too much. My memory is all clouded up, you know.” You responded, raising your hand to protect your eyes from the sun like a visor. 

Now that it was daytime, you were finally able to get a good look at him. You already knew he was pretty, after seeing him last night, but you didn’t really get to see how pretty he was. His dark hair was grown out into a mullet, which wasn’t always the best look, but he pulled it off like no other. He was wearing a tank top that let you get a good look at his sun-kissed skin, which was perfectly smooth like he had been airbrushed or something. He looked like how you would have imagined one of the Greek Gods to look like.

And then it hit you. He looked too perfect, especially for a morning after a party. And especially when your friends had basically told you he was the kind of guy to party hard and take a new girl home every weekend. “Why aren’t you dying? I thought you were some kind of party boy now.”

He cocked an eyebrow at that, like he’d never been called that before. “Party boy? Who told you that?”

“Jisu and Chaeryeong.” You shrugged.

He hummed in response, looking a little less amused than before and instead a little bit more annoyed. “You know, you really shouldn’t listen to everything they tell you. Especially when they’re drunk. Chaer likes to lie for fun.” He informed you, though you weren’t all too convinced he was right about that.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” And with that, you were just going to leave, since you were way too hungover to even be having this conversation in the first place, but then that led you to think of the cause of your hangover, and the panic that you had done something stupid the night before rammed into you full force. “Um… Did I do anything… Embarrassing last night?” 

“If you count convincing yourself you were on fire and running into the water at full speed while screaming at the top of your lungs as embarrassing, then no, you’re good.” A teasing grin appeared on his lips, and you could feel the color drain from your face. 

“Oh. So that’s why I remember being wet.” You realized, mentally slapping your forehead over and over again. “God, I think I have no choice but to steal my mom’s car and leave the country. I think that’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.” You groaned loudly.

“Hey, hey, relax, it really wasn’t that bad. It was kind of cute, honestly.”

You gave him a deadpanned look. “Don’t lie.” Feeling way too embarrassed by that point, you were ready to go back to picking up your breakfast and trying your best to never be seen again, but you could hear him jogging up behind you as you started to walk away.

“Where are you going, anyway? Can I walk with you?” He asked, slowing to a steady pace once he reached your side.

“Um, I’m supposed to pick up waffles for my mom and I. And coffee. She said that I need a coffee.” You informed him. If your head had been hurting you a little less, you might have noticed how close he was to you, and how your fingertips were barely centimeters away from one another. And the realization would have made you nervous. Good thing you were hungover, then.

“What a coincidence! I’m supposed to get coffee, too.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, although he wouldn’t be able to see due to your glasses. “You’re getting coffee, too? What about your friends? Shouldn’t you be out with them, or something?”

“Well, ‘Gyu might be in worse condition than you are, and Wooyoung is still asleep, so I thought I’d go get us some coffee before they wake up.” He explained to you, glancing over at you with that same, stupid smile. 

“Aw. You’re so thoughtful.” You cooed at him, to which he playfully rolled his eyes. “Will you get me my coffee, too?”

He shook his head. “Nah, not today. Another day, when you’re not all messed up, I’ll buy you some.”

“Why does it have to be when I’m not messed up?” You queried, faking a dramatic pout.

“Because…” He stopped in front of you, then leaned down so his face was closer to yours--much closer. The proximity made your heart start to hammer against your chest. “It wouldn’t be a very good date if you had a god awful headache the whole time, would it?” He spoke lowly, in a half-teasing, half-sultry tone that made your heart go crazy. 

His fingers reached out to gently brush against your skin, the contact setting your skin ablaze, and you thought he would tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear like some kind of romcom. But, he instead tapped the edge of your sunglasses. “Cute glasses, by the way. They suit you.” He straightened back up, then started walking as if nothing had happened. 

You stood, completely dumbfounded as you watched him walk along the sidewalk, beaming with pride because you knew that he knew that he’d already started to have an effect on you, only hours after being reunited. You hated the stupid, cocky smirk he wore on his lips, and you hated the playful raise of his eyebrows as he turned back to look at you with those stupid, perfect eyes you also hated.

“Come on, slow poke. Let’s go get some coffee.”

YOU KNEW IT WAS WRONG, you knew Jisu was going to be upset at you, but you couldn’t help it. For the next week, you could not stop thinking about Yeonjun. You couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt when his face got all close to yours, and how all of his features looked up close. His dark, intimidating yet inviting eyes. His plump, very kissable looking lips. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way his fingertips dragged against your cheek, and the electric feeling of his skin against yours. You had spent an embarrassing amount of time imagining what it would feel like if he brushed his skin against other parts of your body.

It had only taken twenty-four hours for Choi Yeonjun to infect you. You thought it couldn’t get much worse--you were wrong.

Your mom suggested a day of lounging at the beach--pulling up a couple of lounge chairs, an umbrella for shade, and a book for each of you to read. It sounded like a perfect day to you, so you agreed. So long as you got to get some ice cream to cool you down while you were out there, because lord knew it was going to get hot.

“Have you been having a good time?” Your mother asked as you played with the corner of the page you were reading, dragging your attention away from the book. You glanced over at her through your sunglasses (not the heart-shaped ones, after your horrible walk of shame, you bought a new pair), closing your book and resting it on your lap.

“Yeah, I have. It’s nice to be back here, to see everyone again.” You smiled at her, and she smiled as well.

“Good. See? I told you this trip would be good for us.” She told you matter-of-factly, pointing her own book at you for emphasis. “There’s just something about a small town like this, and getting away from everything… It’s rejuvenating.” She let out a long sigh, and you rolled your eyes at her dramatics. 

“Well, I guess you could call it that.” You agreed with her. You thought the conversation would end there, and you could go back to reading your book, but she wasn’t ready to stop talking to you yet. 

“So, you’ve been hanging out with Jisu and Chaeryeong a lot? It’s nice to see the three of you together, after all these years.” 

You nodded. “It is nice. I feel bad for not staying in contact, I feel like we missed out on years of potential friendship.” You confessed. Truthfully, you were already enjoying the last week with the two girls more than the last few years with your other friends. Sure, your friends back home were nice, but you had never clicked with them the same way you were clicking with Jisu and Chaeryeong. You hoped that when you left at the end of the summer, you’d be able to keep up with them unlike in the past.

“Aw.” She clicked her tongue, glancing away from you. “That’s great. We really need to go have dinner with the Chois. You know, I saw Jiwoo--You know, Jisu’s mother--at the store a few days ago--” She was cut off by her phone ringing, and you watched as she picked it up and walked away, saying a silent thank you now you would have some peace and quiet.

At least that’s what you were hoping for. But, of course, that was too much to ask for.

A volleyball bounced across the sand in front of you, and unsurprisingly, it was followed by a group of guys chasing after it. And just your luck, one of the guys happened to be none other than Choi Yeonjun. 

You gulped, quickly lifting your book and opening it up in an attempt to hide your face from his view. Since your last run in with him, you had been avoiding him to the best of your ability. Mostly because the more time you spent around him, the more your feelings seemed to grow, and the more guilty you felt. 

The first night Jisu had warned you about him, she had been extremely drunk, so you had considered just ignoring her, since there was a chance she didn’t really mean it. But, a day after you’d gotten coffee with him, you had hung out with her and Chaeryeong, and told them all about what happened. She was completely sober when she warned you a second time, telling you she was just looking out for you, so you decided that meant she was serious, and that you wanted absolutely nothing to do with Choi Yeonjun!

“Sorry!” One of them yelled at you, and you barely lowered your book to see it was the one with the shaggy hair. He made eye contact with you, and suddenly his entire demeanor changed. Instead of cowering down, like he was scared you would yell at him, he straightened up, holding the ball under his arm and you swore you saw him flex his muscles. 

“It’s fine.” You quipped, praying Yeonjun wouldn’t hear you. Thankfully, he looked too busy cursing out his other friend for throwing the ball out of bounds.

The shaggy haired boy ignored his friends, his eyes remaining on you. “The Summer I Turned Pretty? Is that any good?” He asked, and at first you thought he was spewing nonsense, then you realized he was talking about the book glued to the front of your face. 

If you weren’t so worried about his stupid friend noticing you, you might have actually tried to have a conversation with him. He was good looking, and seemed friendly, but you were trying to get them to go away as soon as they could, so you just gave a short nod, hoping he would take the hint and go away.

“Sorry again.” He apologized, flashing you a pearly white grin, and he started to walk away. You let out a soft sigh of relief. You had officially avoided conversation with Yeonjun, and could return to actually reading.

“Oh, hey, Y/N!”

Never mind.

You finally put your book down, since your cover had obviously been blown already. Yeonjun had spotted you, and was flashing you that same, stupid, confident grin you hated (read: loved). You reluctantly raised your hand to wave at him, giving him the best smile you could muster up. “Hi, Yeonjun.” You replied.

“Oh, Y/N! You’re the girl who thought she was on fire! I knew you looked familiar!” The shaggy hair boy announced, your cheeks becoming set ablaze at the realization that was what you were known for now.

“Yes, that was me.” You managed to get out through a pained smile. 

“Dude, that was hilarious! I’ve never seen someone more scared for their life over nothing!” Yeonjun’s other friend began to laugh, and you frowned as the other two joined in. Not in the mood for their mockery, you looked down to the pages of your book, trying your hardest to drown out their hyena-like laughter.

Yeonjun noticed your annoyance, and quickly stopped laughing, clearing his throat. “Hey, she’s also one of the greatest sand castle builders in the whole country.” He pointed out to his friends. The compliment that called all the way back to your childhood caused your cheeks to heat up again, but this time it was more out of flattery than embarrassment.

“It’s true. Better than him.” You informed his friends, gesturing towards him with your head. 

The shaggy haired one shrugged. “Yeah, I believe it. I’m Beomgyu, by the way.” He approached you, holding out his hand to shake, which you gladly did. 

“I’m Wooyoung!” The other friend interrupted, pushing Beomgyu out of the way to have his turn shaking your hand. 

Yeonjun was watching his friends smothering you, his eyes narrowed and arms crossed. “Okay, okay, she doesn’t want to know you guys, she doesn’t care.” He told them, rolling his eyes when Beomgyu shook your hand again. “Have you been sick or something? It’s been a week since I saw you.” He changed the subject, much to your dismay.

“No…” You responded.

“Weird. I guess we’ve just been missing each other all week.” He shrugged. 

“She’s probably been avoiding you because she can tell you’re a fucking loser.” Wooyoung said matter-of-factly, and Beomgyu laughed in agreement. 

Yeonjun rolled his eyes at their immature comments, but chose to ignore them. “I think I still owe you some coffee, you know.” He told you, and bumped the edge of your chair with his food. “Maybe you should give me your number. Then I won’t have to worry about trying to track you down.” 

Your eyes widened, and Beomgyu started to cough loudly. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to get out of this one. You could try to lie and say you lost your phone, or give him a fake number, but as soon as he realized it was wrong, he would probably get mad. Maybe he would get so angry he would decide “if I can’t have her, no one can!” and murder you in your sleep. That was probably not going to happen, but you could never be sure these days! Right?

You were frozen in your beach chair, and the longer it took for you to form some kind of a response, the more awkward things were becoming. You began to regret every little decision that had led you to this moment--from you deciding to join your mother for a day at the beach all the way back to letting Yeonjun build that stupid sand castle with you in the first place. 

And then, like some kind of miracle sent down from God herself, you were saved. Although, you weren’t sure if you could call it saving, since you had a feeling it was only going to make the entire interaction so much worse. 

Appearing out of seemingly nowhere, Jisu and Chaeryeong stood beside your chair, arms folded and eyes narrowed at the boys.

“Oh, hey, Jisu.” Beomgyu was first to break the painfully long silence, and the sound of someone speaking again after so long caught you so off guard you nearly jumped. “And Chaer.”

 “Hi.” Jisu greeted, then risked a glance down at you. “What’re you guys up to? I thought you were playing volleyball or something?”

“We were, but then Beomgyu almost hit her with the ball.” Wooyoung explained, gesturing over towards you. Beomgyu rolled his eyes, but made no effort to dispute Wooyoung’s words.

“I thought you were here with your mom?” Jisu asked, recalling your text messages from earlier in the morning.

“Yeah, I was. Am. She just got up to take a call.” You explained, feeling a bit like a little kid getting caught red handed, even though you really hadn’t done anything wrong. “Then Yeonjun and his friends decided to come say hi.”

Jisu nodded slowly. 

“Yeah, we were keeping her company while she was alone. Anything can happen to a pretty girl sitting out on the beach alone.” Yeonjun said, and you hated the way your cheeks heated up because of his stupid words.

“Hey!” Jisu was quick to scold. “Stop flirting with my friends, weirdo!” She snapped, jabbing her finger in his face. 

He held his hands up in defense, taking a step back to avoid his eyes being poked out by her fingertips. “I wasn’t flirting with her! I was just being honest! She’s a pretty girl!” He attempted to defend himself, but that just seemed to bother Jisu even more.

“Stop it!” She told him again, and Wooyoung began to giggle.

“You look like an angry little chihuahua. So cute.” He teased her, and you thought she might have really smacked him across his amused face if it wasn’t for Chaeryeong putting her hands on her shoulders in an attempt to relax her. 

You felt like maybe it was time you stepped in, and stood up, joining Chaeryeong in trying to calm down your friend. “It’s fine, Ji. They’re just stupid boys, ignore them.” You told her, then shot Yeonjun a glare. He tilted his head at you, like he couldn’t figure out why you might be annoyed at him. 

Stupid boys indeed.

“Ouch!” Beomgyu gasped at your words, feigning hurt and clinging onto his chest. “Your words hurt Y/N, they really do.” 

“Go back to your stupid volleyball and leave us alone.” Jisu groaned, wrapping her hand under your arm to cling onto you. “You guys are so annoying!”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Fine. Can I at least get that phone number before I leave?” Yeonjun asked, a grin creeping onto his perfect lips.

“No!” Chaeryeong and Jisu shot back in unison, making a swatting motion with their hands to tell them to get away. Finally, Wooyoung and Beomgyu began to slowly back away--Beomgyu was still acting like he was bleeding out of his chest or something. Yeonjun lingered, though, letting out a deep exhale.

“What was it that Romeo said? Parting is such sweet sorry’s, or whatever?” He sighed, and placed a hand over his heart. “I’m gonna get that phone number, though. I swear, just wait and see!” And with that, he gave you a wink, then rushed away after his friends before Jisu got the chance to curse him out again. 

You stood quietly for a minute, mulling over his words. You felt like there was a not-so-thinly veiled threat hiding in his words. With an uneasy sigh, you glanced over at Jisu, who had her eyebrows furrowed closely, and her lips pressed together into a frown, like she was thinking about his words as well. Chaeryeong’s gaze flickered between the two of you, as she was obviously awaiting some sort of acknowledgment of what happened.

But the acknowledgement never came. Maybe Jisu had finally given up on trying to keep you away from Yeonjun, because she didn’t say anything about it. Instead, she gave you a quick hug, promising that she would see you later, before taking Chaeryeong and disappearing back to whatever they had done before. 

You wished she had been more insistent. You wished you had listened to her from the beginning.

FOR WHAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A RELAXING Summer getaway for you and your mother, you sure were having a difficult time destressing. You’d been trying to sleep for at least the last hour, tossing and turning under your sheets. The millions of thoughts running rampant in your mind were what were preventing you from getting any sleep, and no matter how hard you tried, you weren’t able to put any of them to rest. The longer you laid there, feeling absolutely exhausted but unable to shut your mind down long enough to sleep, the worse your annoyance became.

At some point, you’d finally had enough. With a frustrated groan, you threw your bedsheets off of you, and swung your legs over the side of the bed. You sat for a minute, rubbing your eyes in an attempt to get them to accept you weren’t going to sleep, then finally pushed yourself to stand up. You wandered over to the large window at the edge of the bedroom, and slid it open enough you could feel the cool ocean breeze against your face. 

Finally, you were beginning to feel that relaxation you’d been longing for. With the air against your skin, and the sound of the waves rolling against the beach out in the distance, you felt your thoughts begin to dissipate. You weren’t thinking about your dad, or Jisu, or your senior year waiting for you back home, or Yeonjun, in fact you weren’t thinking about anything at all. Except, maybe, about how much you wished your bed was closer to the window.

Whack!

You were completely startled when you felt something tiny collide with your cheek, and you let out a quiet curse. Once again, you found yourself annoyed that these windows didn’t have any screens on them to protect you. Cautiously, you poked your head out the window in hopes of finding the source of whatever had hit you.

You apparently weren’t cautious enough, though, as another tiny object hit your face once again. “Ow, what the fuck!” You shouted, reaching up to rub your forehead, and then you spotted it--the source.

Standing on the lawn outside your house, with a handful of what you assumed to be pebbles, was none other than Choi Yeonjun, whose grin quickly turned into a grimace when he noticed you finally see him. 

“Shit, did I hit you? I didn’t mean to!” He called up to you in a whisper shout. 

You stared down at him, and you swore you could feel your eye twitch as your annoyance doubled. “What the hell are you doing here?” You whisper-shouted back to him, leaning forward so your upper body was now completely hanging out the window.

“You wouldn’t give me your number!” He abandoned the whisper-shout, so now it was just a shout. You quickly shushed him, glancing back at your door and half expecting to see your mother there demanding to know who was yelling outside. Thankfully, she wasn’t. “Just come down here so we can talk!” He attempted to be quiet this time, beckoning for you to go meet him.

You rolled your eyes. Of course, he just had to show up right when you were about to get some much needed sleep. If you were a smart girl, you would have just shooed him away and went back to sleep, but you weren’t. There was something about Choi Yeonjun that made you desperate to hear what he had to say. 

So,  you let out a defeated huff. Without responding, you leaned back into your room, and picked out what was supposed to be a swimsuit cover to put on over your pajamas. Once you’d tiptoed through the house, careful not to wake your mother, you carefully opened the back door to see Yeonjun still standing in the bushes, calling up to your window like you might still be inside. You laughed softly at the sight, closing the door behind you.

When you stepped into the moonlight, he finally spotted you. “Oh! I didn’t know where you went. I thought you got sick of me and went back to sleep.” 

“Mm, I thought about it.” You hummed, folding your arms across your chest in an attempt to keep your coverup from blowing open from the soft ocean breeze. You watched as his eyes drifted down to your outfit, and he lifted an eyebrow.

“Cute pajamas.” He said.

Your face warmed. “Shut up.” 

He grinned.

“So, what are you doing here?” You asked, tilting your head at him as you got closer. 

“I told you. You didn’t give me your number earlier.” He replied, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“So, you thought you would just show up here in the middle of the night, and I’d just give it to you?” 

“Duh. That was how Edward seduced Bella in Twilight.” 

“I really don’t think it was.” You laughed. “Also, Edward was a hot vampire who sparkled under the sunlight. You’re not quite on his level.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Ouch? You’re mean, Y/N, really mean.”

“Just to you.” You teased him, surprised at your own flirtiness. 

“How can I convince you to give me your number?” He whined. It was funny, a lot about him had changed in the last ten years, but at the same time, he was exactly the same. Annoying, whiny, but also cute. 

You eyed him carefully, taking note of how his features seemed to glow under the luminescence of the moon. He may not have been sparkly like Edward Cullen, but you thought he might be more beautiful than the vampire. “Prove it to me.” You said to him.

“Prove what?” 

“Prove to me that you’re not just some player, messing with me until you get bored and move onto the next girl.” The words tumbled out of your mouth, words you weren’t sure you were normally brave enough to say. But you did say them, and now your heart was racing, and you hoped you hadn’t said something wrong.

Yeonjun stared back at you, like a deer caught in headlights. “Is that what Jisu told you?” He asked, his voice coming out a bit quiet. 

You nodded, tightening the grip your arms held around your stomach. “She and Chaeryeong warned me, basically called you a whore…” Your voice trailed off, the last word basically a whisper. 

He said nothing for a minute, just continuing to stare back at you like you’d just dropped a huge bomb on him, then burst into laughter. “You date a few girls and suddenly you’re a whore… Sounds about right.” 

Now it was your turn to stare back at him, eyebrows furrowed as you waited for some kind of explanation. Finally, his eyes met your own confused ones, and his laughter dwindled. 

“Sorry. Look, I don’t know what Jisu told you, but it’s not true. I’m not some—some fuckboy that jumps from girl to girl.” He laughs nervously and runs a hand through his dark hair. 

“Then it shouldn’t be hard to prove it to me.” You replied, and once again, the air went quiet. 

Maybe you had been too bold. Maybe he really was just some player, looking to get a quick fix and move on, and you’d completely turned him off. It wouldn’t be the worst thing, if you had, since it would save you the hurt. On the other hand, the idea that he had set his sights on you when he first saw you at the bonfire just to hook up with you and drop you stung more than you liked to admit. 

The soft breeze that rolled in with the sea tousled its way through his hair, a few stray strands falling in front of the dark eyes that bored into your own. You thought he was just going to stand there forever, and never utter a single word to you, but then, to your surprise, there was movement. 

Before you had the chance to react, he was towering over you, and his fingers had hooked themselves under your chin to force you to look up at him. The moonlight reflecting off the back of his head caused him to look like he was glowing. 

“Y/N.” The drop in his tone sent goosebumps down your back. 

“Yeah?” You answered in the loudest voice you could conjure, which was barely a squeak. 

His eyes flickered between your own, like he was searching for something inside of them. “You’re not just some… Game to me. I want to get to know you. I want to take you on dates…” He leaned forward, so close you could feel his breath fan against the shell of your ear. “I want to kiss you.”

A shaky breath fell from your lips, and you were sure he could hear it. You wanted to kiss him, too. So badly that you wanted to cup the back of his neck and crash your mouth onto his right then and there. You upheld some restraint, though, keeping your arms pinned to your side. 

He pulled away from you, a sly smirk appearing on his lips that were very kissable, by the way. “Not now, though. If you give me your number, we’ll plan a date, and you can let me prove it to you, okay?”

It was like you were under some kind of spell, and the man glowing under the moonlight in front of you was some sort of sorcerer. You nodded dumbly. 

You caved in. You gave him your number. Then, he kissed your cheek, and bid you goodnight. Still in a daze, you watched as he disappeared into the night, leaving you alone in the sand with only the soft sounds of the waves rolling against the beach to keep you company. 

That was your first mistake. 

YEONJUN WASTED NO TIME IN texting you the following morning. You were just finishing eating some waffles with your mom when you heard your phone buzz against the table, and picked it up to see a text message from an unknown number. 

hey ;-)

It didn’t take a genius to know who that text had come from. 

When you saw the message, a giddy feeling overcame you, and before you knew it, you were releasing the most heinous giggle you had ever let out in your life. Your mom had given you an incredulous look when the noise slipped through your lips, and you gave her a quick shrug as an apology. 

You snuck off to your bedroom, collapsing onto the mattress stomach first. You looked like a girl straight out of some Disney Channel romcom, legs kicked up in the air behind you and your lip tucked between your teeth as you tried to bite back an embarrassingly wide smile. 

After Yeonjun left, you had barely gotten any sleep. All you could do was replay that moment over and over again, the way his warm breath felt against your skin, the low vibration of his voice so close to your ear, as he told you he wanted to kiss you… It sent shivers down your spine every time you thought about it, without fail. So, it was safe to say you had been anticipating his text message for hours.

You finally typed up a response, hitting the send button then anxiously staring back at your screen as you awaited a response. Like most phones due, the screen dimmed after about ten seconds of nothing happening, and you let out a defeated huff. Right as you were going to give up, and let it turn itself off, the screen brightened again, as a thought bubble appeared at the bottom of the screen.

wanna grab lunch today? a little birdy told me ur a big fan of jakes

You were no longer able to bite back the smile. The grin spread across your lips as you texted back a yes.

There was no point in driving from the house you stayed in over to Jake’s, since it was only about a ten minute walk, so you assumed you would just be meeting Yeonjun there. About fifteen minutes before you’re supposed to meet, though, you walk out the front door and are surprised to see the man of the hour standing on your porch, back leaning against one of the columns and phone in his hands that kept him from noticing your presence right away. 

He was wearing the most casual clothes you could imagine—a soft blue button up shirt and some shorts, but he still looked like he walked off the set of some modeling shoot. He still hadn’t noticed you, yet, typing away on his phone. Or maybe he had, and was teasing you. 

You cleared your throat, which was apparently enough to grab his attention as his head snapped up. “Oh, hey. I was just about to text you.” He grinned at you, and you tried to ignore the way his voice made your stomach churn. 

“What are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet there?” You asked bluntly. 

“I told you I would walk you there, didn’t I?” He tilted his head at you, and you shook your head. “Oh. Oops. Well, I’m walking you there.” He smiled, and pushed himself off of the column. 

You shook your head. “You didn’t have to do that.” You told him, as you started to descend the porch stairs. 

“I know. That’s what makes it so charming, isn’t it?” He hummed, following behind you. “You look nice, by the way. I like your dress.” 

The compliment slipped from him so casually, your face immediately felt hot. Your gaze drifted down to the little sun dress you had spent so long picking out, and now you were glad you had. “Thanks. You look nice, too.” You muttered. 

“What did you say?” He used his long legs to advantage, catching right up next to you so he could lean down close. He wasn’t nearly as close to you as he had been the night before, but it still flustered you, nonetheless.

“I said, your shoes are goofy.” You responded, pointing down to the Crocs he was wearing. 

He gasped. “You don’t rock with the crocs?” 

“Ew. If you say that ever again, I’m going to go home and block your number.” You laughed, your nose scrunched up in disgust. 

“You wouldn’t do that. You and I both know you can’t resist my charm.” He spoke confidently, basically puffing out his chest. 

You rolled your eyes at him, but you couldn’t help a small giggle. 

The two of you kept up the casual conversation on your venture to the diner, and you were surprised by how easy it was to talk to him. Even though you felt beyond nervous, the words fell smoothly from your lips, and by the time the two of you were situated in a booth inside Jake’s, you could feel the nerves melting away. 

It didn’t take long for them to resurface, though. Once your food was ordered, you were sitting directly across from him, and it was becoming harder and harder to avoid his intense gaze. Yeonjun was much more confident than you, his eyes locked onto yours, while your own eyes darted around to avoid him. 

The waiter brought over your drinks, and you noticed as he lowered onto the table that his nametag read Jake.

“Jake? Did you start working here because your name is Jake, or is your name Jake because you work here?” You asked him.

He smiled at you, and you thought he had a nice smile. “It’s funny, actually. My parents opened the place up before I was born, and called it Jake’s. Then, I was born, and they thought, ‘you know what would be a good name for our son? The name of our restaurant.’ Awful, right?” He asked you, and you giggled. 

“A really, really sad story.” Yeonjun pretended to pout, then his expression morphed into a nasty glare. Jake looked uneasy, giving you a small nod before returning to the kitchen. You frowned as you looked back at Yeonjun. 

“What the hell was that?” 

“He was totally flirting with you.” Yeonjun grumbled, tucking his straw between his lips.

“He was not. He was just being nice.” You rolled your eyes, and Yeonjun quirked his eyebrows up in response, like he was saying whatever, but he didn’t say anything else about the subject.

He cleared his throat. “So, you’re in college, right?” 

You nod. 

“You’ve gotta be graduating soon, I’m guessing? What’s your major?” He asked you, leaning back in his seat comfortably. 

“Environmental science.” You replied with a shrug. “What about you? Are you in school?” 

He winced at the question. “Nah. I tried it, after I graduated high school, but it just… It wasn’t for me.” He said, rubbing his arm. 

“I get that. It sucks, I honestly don’t know how I made it this far.” You laughed. “If you’re not in school, then what have you been up to?”

His cheeks started to redden. “Uh, I work at a phone store…” 

You could tell he was hiding something else. “That’s it?” You tried to encourage him to keep going. 

“No… Promise you won’t laugh…” 

“I promise.” You leaned forward, becoming intrigued. 

He pulled his lips into a tight line, before letting out a deep breath. “Okay, I post dance covers online. I’m trying to get scouted.” He confessed, and for the first time since you’d come on this trip, it looked like he was the nervous one. 

Before you could stop yourself, you let out a laugh. 

“You just said you wouldn’t laugh!” He shouted at you accusingly, and you quickly shook your head. 

“No, no, I’m not laughing at the dance! I just thought it was funny that you were acting all shy about it!” You jumped to exclaim, your hands instinctively darting out to hold his wrists. “I think it’s really cool!” 

He eyed you suspiciously, before his gaze lowered to your hands. You pulled them away, afraid you were making him uncomfortable, but he grabbed ahold of one of them before it got too far.

You flushed. “So, you dance? How long have you been doing that?” You grabbed your drink to take a big gulp, suddenly feeling very hot.

He hummed in thought, his cool demeanor quickly making a reappearance. “I think I started when I was 12? I’m not sure. I’ve been doing it so long, it’s hard to keep track.” He told you, dark eyes trained on your hands. “In college--the one year I was there--I was a part of the school’s dance team. But, something happened, and I decided it wasn’t for me.” 

“What happened?”

“You don’t want to hear about all of that. Trust me, it’ll bore you.” He gave you a reassuring smile, and you didn’t want to push him to talk about it, instead just giving him a short nod. “So, graduating next year, huh? Is that why you decided to come visit for the Summer?” 

Not exactly, you thought to yourself, but you weren’t exactly ready to drop all the gritty details about the last few months of your life, and your parents’ messy divorce onto him. Instead, you settled on a “yep”, and took another sip of your drink. 

That was how most of the rest of your lunch went. Discussing the little details of your lives with one another, but purposefully leaving out the stuff he didn’t really need to know about. When Jake came back to give you your food, Yeonjun once again glared at him as though he could ignite him with his eyes if he tried hard enough, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong that you could think of. You wondered if they knew each other and had some past drama with one another, or maybe he was just incredibly jealous.

Throughout the date, you hadn’t been able to decide why Jisu had been so adamant about warning you to stay away from Yeonjun. Sure, maybe at first you got a bit of those vibes from him, but it didn’t take much conversation to prove he was more than all of that. He was genuinely sweet, and you could feel he really cared about you. You challenged him to prove himself to you, and he was already winning the challenge. 

He walked you back to your house, his hand brushing dangerously close against yours the whole way. You wished he would just grab it and hold onto it the way he did back at the restaurant. He didn’t, though. Instead he kept teasing you, bumping his fingers a giant your own, and acting as though he was oblivious to the contact. 

“Thank you for lunch.” You told him once the two of you had made it back to your porch, where you knew your mother was spectating from one of the windows. 

“Thanks for coming with me.” He smiled down at you, and of course, his charming smile made your stomach flutter. 

The two of you stood awkwardly, neither quite sure what to say, but what you were sure of was neither of you were ready to say goodbye yet. 

“So? Have I proved myself to you yet?” He asked. 

You hummed in response, knowing your answer was without a doubt yes, but you weren’t ready to tell him that. “I’m not sure. I think it’s going to take a few more burgers. Maybe a milkshake…” 

He laughed. “Oh really?” He raised an eyebrow, and you nodded. “Okay. I’ll buy you as many burgers as my phone store salary can afford.” 

“And a milkshake?”

“And a milkshake.” He suddenly reached out and tapped his finger against your nose, startling you to the point you jumped at the touch. He giggled at your reaction. 

The familiar tune of an Ariana Grande song started playing, and you watched with furrowed brows as he dug his phone out of his pocket. He glanced at you with a knowing look before answering the call.

You watched as he talked on the phone, presumably to Beomgyu or Wooyoung, once again finding yourself admiring his beauty. You could look at Yeonjun a million times, and never get over how gorgeous he was. In your twenty-one years on Earth, you’d never wanted to kiss someone so bad. A part of you thought maybe he would do it now, on your doorstep, but you also knew it wasn’t time. Besides, you didn’t want to share your first kiss with him in broad daylight where your mother was watching. 

“You’re such an idiot, Beomgyu… Alright, alright! I’m on my way!” He hung up the phone, a frustrated groan escaping from his mouth. “I’m sorry, Y/N, my friends are idiots who apparently don’t know how to make ramen in the microwave.” He rolled his eyes. 

“It’s okay. I’ve had stupid friends, too, I understand.” You smiled at him, reaching out to pat his arm comfortingly. 

Just like the night before, he bent down to kiss your cheek, and just like the night before, you were desperate for more. “Okay. I’ll text you later, alright?”

“Yeah. Later.”

YEONJUN DID NOT TEXT YOU BACK LATER. When your mother dragged you out to the beach again, you kept your phone close to you, nearly falling out of your beach chair every time it buzzed. But, never did one of the buzzes belong to the person you were most waiting for. 

When you and your mother visited a local barbecue restaurant for dinner, you turned your phone off completely, hoping that pretending to be uninterested would make the text come faster. About halfway through eating, though, you excused yourself to the bathroom and powered your phone back up, waiting for the text to come through. 

It didn’t. 

When you couldn’t sleep, once again, you crept over to your window and half hoped he would be down there, and throw a pebble at you again. At first, you thought you saw him standing in the beach grass, but it was just an old fence post. No matter how hard you tried to will it, he wasn’t coming, and he wasn’t going to text you. 

You’d given up all hope by the time you woke up, and there was no message. Honestly, you were prepared to sit around all day and feel dejected, but thank god for Choi Jisu and Lee Chaeryeong. Apparently, there was going to be a big party that night, and they wanted the three of you to go together. And, lucky for you, a party was the perfect way to get Choi Yeonjun out of your head. 

“So, you got lunch with Yeonjun yesterday?” Jisu asked you, the question causing you to flinch and nearly stab your own ear with your earring. You were all currently in Jisu’s room, getting ready for the big party. 

“How did you know about that?” You slowly glanced over at her, slipping the earring through your piercing. 

Jisu shrugged. “It’s a small town, Y/N. Word travels fast.” She paused, looking over at Chaeryeong. “Plus, Chaer’s boyfriend works at Jake's.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Chaeryeong immediately exploded, and Jisu rolled her eyes. 

“Yeah, sure he’s not. But, he said he saw Yeonjun come in with a girl, but he didn’t know her name, so we put two and two together.” Jisu explained. 

“Oh. Well, yeah, I did… Are you mad?” You meekly asked, shifting your gaze towards her to gauge her reaction. 

Jisu froze for a moment, a finger pressed against her lips as though she was deep in thought. “Hmm… No. I’m not mad.” She decided after a minute. “If you really, fully believe that he’s not playing you, then I’m happy for you. He’s a good guy, just really, really, really deep down.” 

Chaeryeong giggled, and you frowned. “Thank you, Jisu. Really. Although, you might be right…”

“What?! What happened? I’ll kill him!” Jisu exclaimed, flipping around to face you. 

“Nothing! It’s just… He told me he was going to text me yesterday, after our lunch, and he never did.” You averted her gaze, realizing how stupid it all sounded the minute the words left your mouth. The two of you had barely been apart for 24 hours, it was normal for him not to text you, right? You probably sounded insane and boy-crazy.

Your friends didn’t think so, though. 

“What?! He’s such an ass! The least you can do after harassing a girl for her number is text her!” Chaeryeong’s outburst instantly made you feel much better about your insecurities.

“What a loser. See, Y/N, I told you!” Jisu pointed at you scoldingly as she made her way over to her vanity. 

“But that doesn’t mean he’s a player, right? We haven’t even kissed. If he was just messing with me, he would have at least tried to have gotten something before he ghosted me, right?” You started rambling, the fear that you really had been played overcoming you.

Chaeryeong shrugged. “Maybe he’s a different kind of whore. Maybe he just wants emotional attention, not physical stuff.” She suggested, which made you feel even worse.

Jisu must have noticed you starting to freak out, as she let out a sigh and returned to be by your side. “Hey. He’s probably just an idiot who forgot. That doesn’t make him a fuckboy, it just makes him stupid. But if he is purposefully ghosting you, then he’s even more of an idiot, and you should just forget about him.” She rubbed your shoulder, and gave you a soft smile through the mirror you stood in front of. 

“Either way, he’s stupid.” Chaeryeong pointed out, and the three of you started nodding in affirmation. 

With all of that in mind, the three of you finished getting ready, and headed over to the party. You weren’t sure if Yeonjun was going to be there, but you hoped he was. Jisu and Chaeryeong had helped you pick out the perfect floral top, and a cute little skirt to go with it. You could confidently say that you looked good. A smaller part of you hoped he wasn’t there, though, because you deserved at least one night to yourself without thinking of him. 

The party, you discovered, was being hosted by none other than Jake, the waiter you had met the day before. Apparently, his parents always took a trip for one week in the Summer, and on the Saturday of that week, he always threw a huge party. It had become a tradition. And, more importantly, the Sim family owned a huge house right on the beach, which made it the perfect spot to party. 

“Wow. So, Jake’s family is rich.” You breathed out once you all made it to the destination. You thought they had been over exaggerating about the estate, but they were rather under exaggerating. 

“Yep. Aside from the diner, Jake’s dad owns tons of real estate in the area. The burger shop is more of a hobby for him.” Chaeryeong explained to you, looking over with a big smile. 

You nodded in understanding, shifting your gaze back over to take in the size of the house once again. 

“Chaeryeong!” The three of you craned your necks in unison to see a guy you recognized from the diner approaching your little group. “I’m glad you made it. Save me a dance?” He grinned down at her, and though it was dark outside, you swore you could see your friend start to blush.

It was cute, you hadn’t really seen her get so shy before. You assumed he must have been her “boyfriend” from the diner Jisu was talking about. “In your dreams, Seungmin.” She replied, her hand coming up to push against his shoulder. 

Seungmin laughed, then looked over to you and Jisu. “Hey, Ji. And hey…?”

“Y/N.” You filled in, giving him a polite smile. 

“Ahh, so you’re Y/N. Chaeryeong was telling me about you.” He said with a nod, and you shot Chaeryeong a questioning glance. 

“Good things, I swear.” She was quick to reassure you, then shot Seungmin a glare.

“Yep! Good things only! Like how you were so drunk you thought you had caught on fire.”

“Chaer!” You scolded your friend as Jisu and Seungmin started to laugh together. She shrugged in response, giving you a weak smile. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N! It was just a funny story, you have to admit!” She giggled, and you rolled your eyes. “Come on, I know what will cheer you up!” 

You huffed, slumping your shoulders dramatically as you followed her, Jisu and Seungmin inside. You were surprised by how many people had turned up to the party, you didn’t even know that many people lived in the little beach town. Though, you supposed some of them might have been vacationing there, the same as you. 

Your friends led you back to the drinks—aka the back porch, where a keg had been set up as well as a table filled with all sorts of stuff. You were nearly kicked in the face as a girl swung her legs into the air to do a handstand on the keg, and a small group of people started to cheer loudly for her. You wove your way in and out of the small crowd, and over towards the table to get a drink. 

“Here. Let me make you all the Jisulada.” Jisu announced, grabbing four plastic cups and placing them in a line in front of her. You watched as she began to combine random ingredients into the cups, and you could feel your stomach churn at the sight. 

“There’s no real recipe. She just adds random shit every time.” Seungmin leaned down to inform you, and you laughed as you watched her pump random bottles of syrup. 

“And yet, somehow it’s always delicious.” Chaeryeong watched Jisu with furrowed eyebrows, complexed as to how all the ingredients could turn out good. 

Jisu handed you each a cup. “Cheers!” 

You all bumped your plastic cups against each other, then took a sip. Chaeryeong was right, the drink was actually pretty good. It was too bad Jisu made it up on the spot, and probably wouldn’t be able to teach it to you. 

Once you had your drinks, Seungmin and Chaeryeong split off to go talk alone, leaving just you and Jisu. You two wandered back into the house, finding an empty patch of wall to lean against that was just far enough from the speaker you could hear each other talk.

Just as you were finishing the last sip of your drink, you finally saw him. He was just wearing a dark blue button up shirt and a pair of shorts, but just like everything else he wore, he managed to make it look like high fashion. He was with Beomgyu and Wooyoung, as expected, arriving fashionably late. And it was a good thing he did, since he managed to capture the attention of everyone at the party. 

You watched him with hopeful eyes as he walked through the room, waiting for him to look in your direction and come talk to you, but he never did. Next thing you knew, he was gone just as quickly as he arrived. You swore you could feel your eye twitch. 

“Y/N…” Jisu started, as though she could read your mind. 

“It’s fine.” You waved her off, tilting your cup as much as you could to get every last drop of the drink. “Can you make me another Jisucolada?”

“Jisulada.” She corrected. 

“Yeah, one of those.” You grumbled, and Jisu frowned. 

“How about we go do some dancing instead?” She suggested, pulling your hands into her own. “We’re here to have fun, right? Not to think about my stupid cousin.” 

You sighed. “I guess you’re right. And, they’re playing a really good song right now.” 

Jisu grinned, and started shaking your hands. “That’s the spirit! Come on, let’s dance!” Before you got the chance to change your mind, she dragged you out into the sea of people, and gave you no choice but to dance with her. 

As you jumped around to the beat of the music, you could feel the effects of her Jisulada starting to kick in. Your head was starting to feel fuzzy, and you were fighting the urge to giggle at every little thing going on around you. When you thought about Yeonjun, you wanted to giggle. When you thought about Chaeryeong and Seungmin and felt the need to giggle. When you thought of your mom, all alone at the house with a book and a bottle of wine to keep her company, since your stupid dad had to abandon you guys, you couldn’t fight it anymore and started to giggle. 

You weren’t sure what Jisu had thrown into the drink, but it was working wonders for you. 

A finger touched your shoulder and you spun around, prepared to punch someone in the face. You relaxed, though, when you were met with the familiar smile of Jake the waiter. 

“Oh my god, Jake! You gave me a heart attack!” You exclaimed, and once again started to laugh. 

“Sorry. Y/N, right?” He managed to ask over the loud music, and you nodded. “I didn’t know you were friends with Jisu.” 

“Yep! BFFs from childhood.” You told him, slowing down your jumping so you could properly talk to him. Jisu, however, kept dancing, seeming to completely ignore the conversation. 

Jake nodded in understanding. “You used to live here?” 

“No. My family used to come every summer.” You responded. “And then we stopped, because… Actually, I don’t know why we stopped. But my mom and I decided to come back.” You giggled again, and watched as he chuckled down at you. 

“Cool, cool. So you’re here all summer?” 

“‘Til August 27th!” You sang. 

“Well, from now on, if you come into the diner while I’m working, I’ll start giving you a discount.” 

You gasped. “Really? You’d do that?” You looked at him with wide eyes, and he nodded. “Good, because I love those burgers. Damn, now that I think about it, I could really go for a burger right now.” You realized, your hand falling to your stomach as your mind wandered off to the thought of stuffing a burger in your mouth. 

“Hey, tell you what, you stick around another hour, we can ditch this party early and go get one.” He nudged you, and you thought you were going to explode from excitement. 

“Oh my gosh, that would be so awesome. A post-party burger sounds amazing.” 

“Hi, Y/N.” A familiar voice greeted you from behind, and you felt the color drain from your face. You slowly turned to see the man you both most wanted to see and least wanted to see standing behind you, and he didn’t look too happy. You didn’t feel much like giggling anymore. 

Jake let out a nervous laugh. “Uh, I’ll talk to you later, Y/N.”

“No you won’t.” Yeonjun rolled his eyes, and Jake gave him one last glare before slipping into the crowd. You glanced to your side, hoping to find Jisu still dancing beside you, but she had disappeared as well, leaving you alone with Yeonjun. 

He wasted no time in grabbing ahold of your wrist, and dragging you out of the crowd of dancing people. “What the fuck are you doing?!” You shouted over the music, and although you were pissed he just forced you to leave, you weren’t exactly fighting him. He didn’t respond, though, just kept walking with his eyes narrowed and hand held tightly around your wrist. 

Once he got you outside, though, he led you down to the side of the house, and finally decided to talk. He dropped your arm, turning to face you with a burning expression. “What are you doing here, Y/N?” 

“Um, partying? The same as everyone else.” 

“No, I mean here. At fucking Jake’s party.” He spat. 

Your expression turned cold. “What? Am I not supposed to be? You’re also here, aren’t you?” You snapped at him. He pressed his lips together tightly. “You don’t get to fucking ignore me for a whole day then act like a big, jealous baby, Yeonjun.” 

“I wasn’t ignoring you.” He groaned in frustration, reaching up to run a hand through his silky hair. “It’s complicated, Y/N, you don’t get it.”

“Then make it uncomplicated!” You shouted into his face. “You told me you were serious about wanting to get to know me, and you weren’t just playing with me, but it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way.” 

He rolled his eyes at you, and you couldn’t help but scoff. “You’re the one flirting with another guy out in the open for everyone to see.” He pointed out, his finger following suit. 

“Oh my god, I was not flirting with him!” You explained in exasperation, leaning back against the side of the house. You couldn’t believe how ridiculous he was acting, but you were pretty sure the smell of alcohol wafting off of him had something to do with it. “Besides, even if I was, it doesn’t matter. Because we are not dating. We went on one date, and you didn’t text me back when you said you would, and you didn’t even kiss me--”

“Is that what you want? You want me to kiss you?” He raised both of his eyebrows at you, as if you were asking for something so stupid. 

“Yes!” You didn’t mean to sound so desperate, like you were begging for it, but you couldn’t help it. For days, all you had been able to think about was what it would feel like to have his lips on your own, to run your fingers through those locks of his, and to have your body pressed flush against his own. So, yeah, no matter how badly you wanted to hide it, you couldn’t deny just how desperate you were. 

He froze for a moment, then stalked over towards you. Your heart started to hammer against your chest in anticipation when one of his hands slid past your face to prop him up against the wall, caging you beneath him. The other cupped your cheek, and he leaned down so close that your noses bumped against each other. “Tell me again, Y/N. Tell me what you want.” You felt his breath fan against your lips, and even though you were supposed to be mad at him--you were supposed to be pissed--you could feel yourself crumbling. 

“I want you to kiss me.” You whispered, blinking up at him through your eyelashes. 

His eyes searched your own, his breath seemingly caught in the back of his throat. It looked like he was having some sort of internal battle with himself, on whether or not he should kiss you. God, if he left you hanging again, you were going to knee him right between his legs before he got the chance. “Fuck it.” He breathed out, then (finally) smashed his lips against your own. 

There was an urgency in the way he kissed you, his grip on your cheek tightening and his lips rough against yours, like he was going to starve to death if he didn’t get a taste of you. There was just as much desperation on your end, though, as one of your hands crawled up his shoulder and the other began to entangle itself in the hair that fell right at the back of his neck. 

Just as you had predicted, kissing him was electrifying. Every inch of your skin his fingers came into contact with felt like it was being lit ablaze. You were perfectly in sync with him, and your lips melded together as though they had been made for the other. You had kissed people before, but nothing had ever come close to this. 

He pushed you so you were pressed flush against the wall, and the hand that had been propping himself up before found a new home on your waist. You clung to him tightly, and if you pulled him any closer against yourself, you were sure your bodies would melt into one another. Still, you raised one of your legs and wrapped your leg around his hip, and you felt him grunt against your lips at the contact. 

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled away from the kiss, briefly pausing to look down at you. His lips were puffy, his eyes were heavy with lust, and he looked absolutely gorgeous. He leaned back down, only to attach his lips to your neck this time. Your breathing grew deeper as he peppered your skin with kisses, and an occasional nip with his teeth. 

“I’m sorry. For not texting you.” He breathed against your skin between kisses. 

You weren’t totally sure if you forgave him or not, yet, but your lips moved faster than your brain did. “It’s okay.” You replied breathlessly, and bit your lip to hold back any noises when his mouth found a particularly sensitive spot. 

He leaned up and away from your neck, so his face was in line with your own again. “Don’t talk to Jake anymore, okay?” He asked, and you immediately nodded. He smiled, and dove back in to connect your lips for one more kiss. “You’re mine.” He whispered against your mouth, and once again, you caught yourself nodding fervently. 

“You’re all mine.” 

YOU STARTED SEEING YEONJUN MORE REGULARLY AFTER THE PARTY. In the deep hours of the night, he would appear outside your bedroom window, trying to throw pebbles at your window and missing every one. One night, he even attempted to crawl up the trellis lining the side of the house, but a piece broke off and he fell before he got the chance. You would usually end up sitting on the porch swing on the backside of your house, talking and… Kissing. 

You hated yourself for ever letting Jisu get into your head. Yeonjun had proved to you over and over again that he was interested in you for more than just hooking up, that he had genuine feelings for you. It made the realization that the summer would end in two months, and you would be going back to the city, sting. So, you decided not to think about it. Which was easy, because when you were with Yeonjun, he was just about all you could think about. 

“Did you tell your mom I broke the trellis?” He asked you a few nights after he’d tried to scale the side of the house, a grin playing on his perfect lips. 

You giggled, shaking your head. The two of you were sitting opposite of each other, out on the swing. “No. I told her I didn’t know anything about it. Must have been a wild animal.” You told him, and he laughed at that. 

“Okay, good. It’s bad enough that you witnessed that, I don’t need anybody else knowing about it.” He said, reaching up to rub the back of your neck. 

“Oh. Well, I definitely didn’t tell Jisu and Chaer about it, then.” 

He paled. “Y/N! Now Jisu’s gonna tell her mom and she’s gonna tell my mom! They’re all gonna bully the shit out of me!” He whined, leaning forward to lightly hit your knee. 

“Maybe you deserve it.” You shrugged, and broke into a smile when he looked at you with the saddest look he could muster up. “Aw, you poor baby. I’m joking, I didn’t tell them…” You leaned forward, putting your lips close to his ear. “That can stay between us.” 

When you started to pull away, he caught the nape of your neck in his hand, looking at you with one of his eyebrows cocked up. “You promise?” He asked, using his other hand to hold up a pinky. 

You were immediately flustered by the proximity. You could feel your face getting hot, and your heartbeat in your ears as your wide eyes darted down to look at his pinky. Slowly, you lifted up your own, looping it together with his. “I promise.” The words came out barely above a whisper, and a thick silence filled the air.

For a second, you thought he was going to kiss you, as he leaned forward close enough to brush his nose against yours. But, then he pulled away, a smirk finding its way onto his lips as he observed your reaction.  

“You’re cute.” He said, unlacing his pinky from your own so he could poke the tip of your nose. He let go of you, leaning back against the arms of the bench to laugh at you. 

You frowned, then smacked his chest. “Shut up! I hate you so much!” Now you were the one whining, all the while he kept giggling at your reaction. 

“Come on, we all know that’s not true.” He said matter-of-factly, sitting back up so his face was closer to you again. 

“It is. I seriously hate you, Choi Yeonjun.” You replied, folding your arms across your chest. 

He tilted his head, and gently laced his hand through one of yours. He pulled it away from your chest, then rose it up to his lips. “Do you hate me when I do this?” He asked, then placed a kiss against your knuckles. 

You turned your head away. “Yes.” You said defiantly. 

You could feel the swing shift as he scooted closer to you, and this time he kissed your cheek. “Do you hate me when I do this?” 

You nodded, keeping your head turned away from him. “Yep.” 

His breath was hot against your jaw when he pressed his lips there next, asking the question again. Only this time, you were starting to get so hot and bothered, you barely heard him ask. You just nodded quickly, swallowing hard. 

Finally, two of his fingers pressed against the other side of your jaw, and gently turned you to look at him. “What about…” He leaned forward, touching his nose against your own just like he had done a minute earlier. “When I do…” His breath fanned against your lips, and you couldn’t take it anymore. “Thi-”

You cut him off by taking charge, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. Honestly, from the minute you first heard him trying to throw pebbles at your window, you had been dying to kiss him. Really, kissing Yeonjun was one of the only things on your mind since Jake’s party. The feeling of lips on yours like a drug, and you were past the point of calling yourself addicted. 

He must have been wanting it just as bad as you, as he wasted no time slipping his hands onto your waist and pulling you onto his lap. Your hands rested on his shoulders, steadying yourself as the swing started to gently sway from all the movement. His fingers sliding under your t-shirt and finding home on the skin of your waist feel like tiny little wildfires lighting every inch they brush over ablaze. 

You felt like you were going crazy, like you were some kind of feral animal that found its next meal. All you could think about was how you wanted—no, needed—more of him. It was like your body had gone into autopilot, as your fingers moved from his shoulders down to the hem of his shirt, which you found yourself toying with. 

He paused for a minute, pulling back from the kiss to look at you. His lips were swollen from your kisses, and his dark hair was disheveled, his bangs falling in the way of his eyes. Yeonjun always looked good, that wasn’t up for debate. But, it was nothing compared to how he looked right now. Right now, the only word that came to mind to describe him was perfect. 

He dove back into your lips, and you were starting to have a difficult time keeping up with him. If you had to guess, Yeonjun was a lot more experienced than you. Sure, you’d had a few make out sessions in your life, but never enough to consider yourself an expert, and you’d never done anything further than that. His mouth moved with such expertise, his tongue prodding against your lips to let you in, you were starting to feel a bit overwhelmed. 

When his hand slipped up under your shirt, that’s when you knew you were in trouble. As much as you were enjoying it, you forced yourself to pull away from him. He quickly retracted his hand, gazing up at you with furrowed brows. 

“Sorry, I—, I think we should slow down for just a minute.” You breathed out, letting a nervous laugh slip past your swollen lips. 

He nodded. “Yeah, okay. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything—“

“‘—No! That’s not it!” You cut him off, tightening your grip on his shoulders. “It’s just… I’m not very… Experienced in this stuff…” I’m scared, you thought, but you didn’t dare tell him that out loud. 

“I understand, don’t worry about it.” He leaned forward and gave you a gentle peck that made your heart swell. “So… Are you…?”

Your face grew hot. You nodded in response, too embarrassed to say the words yes, I’m a virgin out loud. You were about to graduate college in the next year, and you were still a virgin. Everyone always told you it was nothing to be ashamed of, but you still couldn’t help being a bit embarrassed when the subject came up. 

“Oh, okay. Well, don’t be afraid to tell me if you don’t want to do something. I want you to be comfortable no matter what, okay?” He stared you dead in the eyes, like he was looking for any sign of hesitation. 

You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you nodded in understanding. “Okay.” You said quietly, and he smiled at your answer. You couldn’t believe how sweet he was being about the whole thing. Surely he had to have some sort of flaw, right?

With that, he leaned in to kiss you just one more time, only this time it was a lot more gentle and intimate than your previous kisses. It was the kind of kiss that gave you butterflies, the kind of kiss that made you realize you might be falling in love with him. 

Oh, god. You were falling in love with Choi Yeonjun.

ONE THING ABOUT JISU WAS SHE LOVED PLANNING PARTIES. So, when her friend Keena’s twentieth birthday rolled around, she practically leapt at the opportunity to plan something. You hardly knew Keena, you’d only met her a few times through Jisu, but your friend insisted you come to the party anyway. According to her, it was going to be a huge party, and everyone was going to be there anyway, so it wasn’t going to be weird! 

It had been about a week since your revelation. You were falling in love with Yeonjun, and you were falling in love fast. The realization terrified you. 

The only time you’d seen love had been with your parents, until you found out they weren’t as in love as you previously thought, since your dad had been hooking up with your housekeeper. He might not have loved your mother anymore, but you knew she still loved him. You saw it in the way she was still fighting to get over him, even now. 

The thought of falling in love, and having to experience the same heartbreak you watched your mom go through for the last few months made you feel sick. So, out of fear, you had been sort of avoiding Yeonjun for the last week. Which was kind of hypocritical of you, considering you had gotten angry at him for doing that to you before. But, at least you had a good reason, right? 

Tonight, though, at Keena’s party, it was more than likely he would be there. Part of you was excited to see him, and had been missing him, while the other part was scared of confrontation, and having to explain to him why you had been avoiding him. 

“Y/N, could you pass me that bag of Doritos?” Jisu’s sweet voice yanked you out of your sea of thoughts, reminding you that you were supposed to be helping her set up for the party, not thinking about Yeonjun. 

“Did you get enough chips?” Chaeryeong asked incredulously as Jisu popped open the bag and began to pour them into a plastic bowl.

Jisu rolled her eyes. “This house is going to be filled with a bunch of guys that are just finishing puberty. Trust me, in my experience planning parties, they eat a lot.” 

Keena, who was wearing a ‘Birthday Girl’ tiara on top of her head, let out a small giggle. “True. Umm, speaking of guys…” She paused for a minute, looking over at Jisu nervously. “Do you know if Yeonjun is coming tonight?” 

Everyone froze. Including you, who nearly choked on your own spit. 

“Oh. Uhh, no, I’m not really sure…” Jisu answered, then glanced over at you. “Y/N might know, though.” 

Keena furrowed her eyebrows. “What? Why might Y/N know?” She asked slowly, her intense gaze flickering between you and Jisu. Then, you watched as her eyes widened, and the answer seemed to dawn on her. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t know you and Yeonjun were--”

“It’s fine.” You quickly waved her off. “You know what? I think I’m gonna go check on the drinks really quick. Just make sure everything is in its place.” You forced the best smile you could muster up, and started to leave. 

“Oh, I’ll come with you! I think I left my bracelet out there earlier.” Chaeryeong raced after you, and you had a feeling she was as desperate as you were to escape the awkward tension that had suddenly filled the air. 

The two of you slipped out the door and into the backyard, where all the different soda and alcoholic drinks Jisu had gotten were being stored. With a long sigh, you bent down and opened up one of the coolers. You half considered dipping your head into the ice in an attempt to calm yourself down, but then you would ruin the makeup you had spent so much time on. 

Chaeryeong watched you awkwardly, toying with a ring on her finger. “They made out once. Last summer. At a bonfire.” She suddenly spoke up. 

You looked back at her over your shoulder. “What?” 

“Keena and Yeonjun. I think she’s had a crush on him since forever, and they made out last summer. I think that’s why she was asking.” She explained. 

“He kissed her?” You asked in disbelief. “How many girls that are coming tonight has he made out with?” 

She shrugged. “Like, 6. There are a few guys, too, I think.” 

You groaned, and the idea of sticking your head in the cooler was sounding more and more like a good idea. 

“But, you really shouldn’t worry!” Chaeryeong was quick to reassure you, kneeling down next to you. “He always ended up ghosting them after. I’ve seen Yeonjun kiss a lot of people, but I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you!” She smiled, and rubbed your back reassuringly. 

You looked over at her. “Really?” 

She nodded. “Really. I know it sounds so cliche, but he’s… Different, around you. I really think you’re more than just a quick hookup to him.” 

She was right. It was so cliche. And she was probably just saying it to make you feel better, but it still made your heart swell up. You couldn’t help smiling back at her, leaning into her touch. 

“Thanks, Chaer.” It was hard to remember that you would be leaving her at the end of the summer, and probably rarely talk to her again after that. Your old friends back at home would never have been able to cheer you up the way she did. In fact, you could hear Haeun’s voice now, telling you he’s just a manwhore, Y/N! There’s no way he’s into you! 

You wished you could stay there forever. 

The door flew open, and your little hug was broken as the two of you jumped to turn around and look. There was Jisu, standing with her hands on her hips. “Could you at least close the cooler? You’re going to melt all of the ice!” She snapped at the two of you. “And come back in here! We need to get the beer pong table set up before people start arriving!” 

You and Chaeryeong shared a brief amused look. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, we’re coming.” She rolled her eyes, standing up. 

Initially, you had gone out there to escape from the insecurity starting to inflate inside of you, but thanks to Chaeryeong’s words, you were starting to feel a whole lot more secure in your relationship with Yeonjun. Who cared if he kissed Keena a year ago, and she was still into him?

Yeonjun had his eyes on you. Not Keena. And if what Chaeryeong had said was true, that he was different towards you… Maybe there was a small chance he was falling for you, too. 

There was nothing to worry about…

Right?

KEENA’S PARTY WAS EVEN BIGGER THAN YOU’D ANTICIPATED. It seemed like there were as many people as were at Jake’s party, if not more. You doubted everyone there knew Keena, and were intending to celebrate her birthday. Most of them were probably just looking for a good time. 

You had been hoping to run into Yeonjun soon. You wanted to apologize, and explain why you had been so distant the past week. After you had gotten so angry at him for doing the same thing to you, an explanation was what he deserved, right? 

So far, though, you had yet to see him anywhere. You wondered if maybe he had decided not to show up after all. If you’d learned one thing about Yeonjun, though, it was that he was not one to miss a party. Especially not a rager like this one. So, you knew he was somewhere in the house, it was just a question of where. 

You had just finished combing through the kitchen unsuccessfully when you wandered over towards the beer pong table, releasing a frustrated sigh. You were prepared to give up and just text him and ask where he was, but that’s when you saw him. 

No, not Yeonjun. It was Beomgyu, playing a game of beer pong with some random people you didn’t know. Relief washed over you as you trudged over to him, praying that your search was nearing its end. 

“Beomgyu!” You called out, then realized he had just been preparing to toss his ball, and your shout had totally thrown him off. He frowned as the ball bounced off the edge of a cup, and the perfect throw he’d been aiming for was ruined forever.

With a defeated sigh, he finally looked in your direction. “Y/N? You wanna play, or something?” He asked, gesturing to the cups. 

“No, I’m not very good. Uh, no, I was just going to ask if you knew where Yeonjun was?” You smiled hopefully at him. 

He tapped a finger to his lips, as though he was deep in thought. “Hmm, no. Wait! Yes, last time I saw him he was out on the back porch. Actually, that might have been Wooyoung… No-no, it was definitely Yeonjun. Yeah, he’s out on the back porch.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “You sure?” Clearly, he had been playing too much beer pong, and was already drunk.

“Yeah, one hundred percent, lady. Oh, if you see him, will you ask where he put my Air Force Ones? I know he stole them, I just don’t know where he’s hiding them.”

You blinked, then nodded slowly. Yeah, you weren’t really sure just how reliable Beomgyu was, but it was the closest thing you had to a lead at that point. “Sure. I’ll ask.”

With that, you started walking away, ready to wrap up the conversation, but before you got the chance, Beomgyu caught your wrist. He tugged you back, a bit closer to him, then leaned in close so you could feel his breath on your ear. 

“Be careful around him, Y/N.”

You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “What?” You whispered. 

He smiled. “I said have fun with him, Y/N! Bye!” He let go of your wrist, and returned to the game, leaving you standing there dumbfounded. 

Be careful around him. He really said that, didn’t he? You hadn’t imagined it? He had recovered from it so nonchalantly, and returned to his game without any hesitation, you wondered if maybe you were going crazy and hallucinated it. During your time exploring the party, you’d had a few drinks, so maybe you were just a little intoxicated. 

For now, you decided to just ignore it. Instead, you started to make your way up through the house, and in the direction of the back porch. You were glad you did decide to have a few drinks, otherwise your nerves might have been on fire. Granted, you weren’t completely relaxed, but your hands weren’t shaking, so that was a good sign. 

You pushed through the crowd of people until you finally found yourself out on the back porch where you had been hiding out with Chaeryeong earlier in the day. 

I’ve never seen him look at someone the way he looks at you!

Be careful around him, Y/N.

You shook your head, trying to shake the voices of your friends loose from your mind. 

Finally, you spotted him. He was leaning up against the railing, appearing to be deep in conversation with someone, but you couldn’t see who. Then, the person blocking your view moved out of the way, and your heart sank. Suddenly, you wished you hadn’t seen him. 

He was talking to Keena, who had her hand resting on his arm, and was leaning in close to laugh about something he said. And the worst part was, he wasn’t trying to get her to move, or anything like that. No, instead he leaned down as well, so their faces were practically inches away from each other as their loud laughter drifted across the patio to you. 

You were trying really, really hard not to think the worst, but you couldn’t help it. She was basically all over him, and he wasn’t doing anything about it. 

But what did you expect? It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend or anything. 

You made the mistake of standing and staring for too long, though. Because he must have felt your gaze burning into the side of his face, and glanced in your direction. Except the glance turned into a wide-eyed stare when he realized it was you watching them. 

He started to say something to Keena, peeling her hands off of him, but you were out of there before you saw what happened next. You spun around on your heel and stormed back into the house, feeling tears brim in the corners of your eyes. You didn’t know why you were crying. You were the one who had stopped talking to him for the last week. You had come clean and told him you were a virgin. It was no wonder he had gotten bored of you and moved onto someone else.

You turned down a hallway, and threw open the first door to a bedroom you found. There was a couple making out on the bed, who jumped when you flung the door open, then glared at you. “Excuse you, can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?” One of the girls asked. 

“Go do it somewhere else!” You snapped at her, and she scoffed at your exclamation. 

“Listen, girl, we were here first--”

“Give us the room!” You didn’t even notice him come up behind you. With an annoyed groan, you buried your face in your palms. This room was supposed to be your escape from him, and now he was ruining it. You had half a mind to elbow him in the stomach. 

The girls rolled their eyes, but were apparently not in the mood to argue--not with Yeonjun, at least. You were both quiet as they walked past, and you tried to follow them out of the room, but of course he stopped you. He tugged you back into the room, and shut the door before you could run back out. 

“Y/N, look, it wasn’t what it looked like--”

“Of course it wasn’t! It never is, is it?” You were trying not to be angry at him, but he was making it so difficult! 

He sighed as you went to sit on the bed. “Look, I don’t even know why you’re that upset. You haven’t talked to me all week, so I thought you were… Done with this, I don’t know.” 

You shook your head, pressing your elbows into your knees as you cradled your cheeks with your palms. “No, it’s not that. I’m just…” Your voice trailed off, and suddenly it became hard to talk. His presence looming in the doorway wasn’t exactly helping, either. 

When he finally left his spot to come sit on the bed next to you, you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. “What is it, Y/N? I need you to talk to me.” He said softly. 

You looked over at him, to see his dark eyes gazing down on you. He should be annoyed with you, and your childish behavior. But he’s not. Instead, his eyes are so full of fondness, you can’t help but think back to what Chaeryeong told you.

I’ve never seen him look at someone the way he looks at you!

You suppose it’s time you did what you had intended to do when you first went onto the porch--tell him the truth.

“That’s not why I was ignoring you… I was ignoring you because--and this probably sounds really silly and stupid, but--I think I was scared.” The last word slipped through your lips, barely above a whisper. 

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Scared? Scared of what?” He asked you. 

“I just… I really like you, Yeonjun. Like, really like you. And I was scared of how fast I was starting to like you.” You knew it was stupid before, but now that you had actually said it, it sounded really stupid. 

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, didn’t react, but then he slowly started to smile. “You really like me?” He asked. 

You rolled your eyes, and punched his shoulder. “Shut up! I’m serious!” 

He winced, reaching up to rub where you had hit him. “Okay, okay, sorry. I guess I’m just a little confused why that would be scary. Shouldn’t that be a good thing? Because I really like you, too.”

There was only one way you could really make him understand. You sucked in a shaky breath, and braced yourself. “Can I… Tell you something?”

He nodded. “Yeah, of course. Tell me anything.” 

“This summer… The reason me and my mom came down, just the two of us… Earlier this year, my mom came home to find my dad hooking up with our housekeeper.” You paused, looking over at him for a reaction. “I thought he loved my mom, but I guess he didn’t--or at least not enough. And I saw how badly that hurt her, I had to be there to help pick up the pieces of her broken heart. So, I guess I was really just scared, that I could see myself falling in love with you, and that means you have the power to break my heart, just like my dad did to my mom.”

The room was silent. Yeonjun was staring down at you, his eyes wide, and you thought they were starting to look a bit glassy. His lips were slightly parted, like he was getting ready to say something, but nothing came out. You weren’t sure you had ever seen Yeonjun at a loss for words before. Quiet Yeonjun was a lot scarier than talkative Yeonjun. 

“See, I knew it was stupid.” You heaved a defeated sigh, and stood up to leave, but for the second time that night, Yeonjun grabbed ahold of your wrist. 

“It’s not stupid.” He reassured you quickly. You looked down at him, to see him gazing up at you with a pleading expression, then decided to sit back next to him. “I’m sorry your dad did that, Y/N. Your mom didn’t deserve that--you didn’t deserve that. But I promise, I won’t ever hurt you the way he did. You have nothing to be afraid of.” 

You could feel your eyes growing wet again. “Really?” You breathed out. “You promise?” 

He nodded fervently. “I promise.” 

Then, the two of you leaned in at the same time, connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. Your heart was hammering against your chest, and you were overwhelmed by how strong your feelings for him were growing. It was still a scary feeling, but it was a little less scary now that he made that promise to you. 

The kiss didn’t last for long, though, as you pulled away and instead buried your face in his shoulder. “I’m sorry for not talking to you.” 

He laughed softly, resting one of his hands on the back of your head. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for letting Keena flirt with me. I should have shut that down a long time ago.” 

You smiled. “Yeah, you should have. But… It’s her birthday. You can tell her later.” 

“Yeah. Later.” He leaned back, and you looked up so you were at eye level with him again. He pressed his lips against yours again, and snuck a hand around your waist. As you kissed him, he pulled you up so you were straddling his lap. “Can we stay here all night?” He whispered against your lips. 

You giggled, shaking your head as you kissed him again. “No. I need to go check in with Jisu and see if she needs anything.” You told him, and he whined. 

“Jisu is fine, what about what I need?” 

You rolled your eyes. “You’re like a baby. We can make out later, let me just go--” 

Suddenly he fell back onto the bed, taking you down with him. He rolled over so he was hovering over you, looking down at you with a playful grin. “Now you’re trapped, so I guess you’re stuck here with me.” 

“Oh yeah?” You laughed, and reached up to wrap your arms around the back of his neck. 

“Yeah.” He breathed out, and leaned down to once again capture your lips in a heated kiss. This time, you didn’t try to protest. Jisu could wait. You had gone a whole week without this, and now that you’d gotten another taste of him, you were reminded of how you just couldn’t get enough of him. 

Thankfully, the girls who you had kicked out never came back, and nobody else barged in to interrupt you. You had no idea whose room the two of you were in, but for that night, it belonged to you.

WHEN YOU WERE A KID, YOU ALWAYS LOOKED FORWARD TO the annual fair that took place out on the boardwalks. There were rides, games, snacks, and best of all, they would end the night with a sky full of fireworks. Your parents would always buy you some cotton candy, pay off the people running the games to help you win some stuffed prize, then take you up on the ferris wheel to watch the fireworks. It was perfect. 

You couldn’t believe it when you found out the tradition was still going strong. As soon as you found out it was happening towards the end of July, you knew you had to be there. And more importantly, you knew you wanted to go with Yeonjun. 

Unfortunately for you, though, Beomgyu and Wooyoung also wanted to go with Yeonjun. You decided to make it a group outing, inviting Jisu and Chaeryeong to tag along as well. It wasn’t ideal, but you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t looking forward to it a little bit. Besides, you could always steal Yeonjun away later, right?

“I think we should go through the haunted house first.” Beomgyu suggested as the six of you wandered around the boardwalks. 

Due to you now being in the last couple of weeks of July, it seemed like the heat of the summer was at an all time high. Even in the shade, in a pair of shorts and a tank top, you were still melting in the heat. The humidity radiating off of the ocean wasn’t helping much, either. 

“No! You know those things scare me!” Yeonjun exclaimed, jabbing a finger in Beomgyu’s direction. 

You grinned. “Aww, don’t worry Jjunie, I can protect you from the scary ghosts.” You cooed at him, hugging his arm close to you. 

Beomgyu and Wooyoung exchanged a look as Yeonjun began to giggle at your antics. For some reason, it reminded you of what Beomgyu had told you the night of Keena’s party. 

Be careful around him, Y/N.

Jisu cleared her throat. “Stop being gross. I think Beomgyu’s right, let’s go to the haunted house.”

Yeonjun frowned, but you looped your fingers together with his in an attempt to soothe him. He smiled down at you, and you assumed it was working. 

“Careful, Y/N, he’ll break your hand off.” Wooyoung commented as the six of you started heading towards the haunted house. “One time, we went on a group date to see a scary movie, and I swear he broke the girl’s fingers.”

You tensed up at the mention of another girl. Of course, you knew Yeonjun had dated other people before you, and after your conversation at the party, you knew you had nothing to be jealous of. Still, the comment stung a bit. 

“Oh my god, remember when we played with that VR set last summer, and Yeonjun started crying while playing Five Nights at Freddy’s VR?” Chaeryeong started to laugh loudly, and Yeonjun glared at her. 

“Shut up! Jisu started crying too, but nobody brings that up!” He snapped defensively, and you couldn’t help laughing. 

Jisu shrugged. “That’s because you’re a man. You’re supposed to be strong and macho, or whatever. Girls are allowed to cry.”

“Isn’t that a little anti-feminist of you?” Beomgyu asked with furrowed eyebrows. 

“So what if it is? Girls are allowed to be anti-feminist.” She teased, and Beomgyu rolled his eyes. 

“In my Women’s Studies class, they taught us that was a bad mindset.” Wooyoung said. 

“Why did you take a Women’s Studies class?” You laughed in disbelief. 

He glanced away. “…Because the TA was hot.”

Finally, you all made it to the haunted house. It looked exactly the same as it had when you were a little girl, too afraid to dare go inside of it. Your dad had tried to convince you to go in with him multiple times, but you always told him no! You were still a little bit scared, but after the way they had just clowned Yeonjun, you absolutely were not going to let anyone know that. 

Instead, you just clung on tightly to Yeonjun, assuring him you were just doing it to make him feel better. But when the two of you rounded a corner to be jump scared by someone dressed as a zombie, and you screamed as you buried your face into your chest, it was obvious you were just as scared as him. 

“You’re kinda cute when you’re scared. Maybe we should go through haunted houses more often.” Yeonjun commented once you were out of earshot of the actor. 

“Nope. You better get a good look and savor scared Y/N now, because I’m never doing this shit again.” You said sweetly, tilting your chin to look up at him. You were still nestled against his chest as the two of you walked, clinging onto one another for safety. 

“Oh trust me, I am looking.” He flashed that stupid, flirty grin that always gave you butterflies, then started to lean down. 

There was a loud gagging sound. “God, is this why you two are so far behind? It’s not enough to make out everywhere else, you have to do it here, too?” Wooyoung asked incredulously. 

You pushed yourself away from his chest. “Nope! I was just wiping away his tears!” 

Yeonjun gasped. “What?! Don’t lie! She was scared, too!” He shouted after you as you jogged to catch up with the others. 

BY THE TIME THE SUN WAS STARTING TO SET, and fireworks were just a short while away, you were exhausted. You were pretty sure the heat was slowly killing you, and you had spent several hours playing stupid carnival games because Wooyoung insisted on beating each one. Which was how he ended up with arms full of plushies that he started giving out to random children. 

Yeonjun won you a fox plushie at the ring toss after you informed him that it reminded you of him. He said it was so you would always be reminded of him, which reminded you that in about a month, you’d be going back to the city, and you didn’t know if you’d ever see him again. 

But, today wasn’t the day to be thinking about that. You wanted to focus on the fact that you were there with him now, and ignore that the future was creeping in closer and closer. Stressing about it wasn’t going to make things any easier for when the time came, so what was the point? 

The two of you were once again lagging behind your other friends as you walked around, relishing in the cool air that was starting to set in as the sun prepared to dip below the horizon. In one hand, you held the fox plushie close to your chest, and in the other, you held Yeonjun’s hand tightly. 

“Ugh, I’m so tired. I think my feet are going to fall off.” You groaned to him, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder. 

He gently shook with soft laughter. “Yeah, I know. When I was a kid, I could run around here for hours, but now I just get worn out so quickly.” He said with a sigh. “I had an idea, though. I know you wanted to go watch the fireworks from the ferris wheel, but I think I might know a better place.”

“Oh yeah?” You looked up at him curiously. 

He nodded. “Yeah. It’ll be a good view, and there will be way less people. Nice and secluded.” 

“Ooh, I like the sound of that.” You giggled. Of course, you’d been hoping to watch the fireworks the way you used to, but more than that you were dying to get some alone time with Yeonjun. Your friends were being third, fourth, fifth and sixth wheels, and ruining everything. 

You blamed stupid Choi Beomgyu and Jung Wooyoung. 

“We just have to sneak away from our friends first…” His voice trailed off as he glanced around, as though he was looking for a way to escape. 

You hummed in thought. “Hmm… Oh! I have an idea!” 

You tugged him by his hand in the direction of your friends, picking up the pace to switch into a jog. He didn’t question you, he just jogged behind you, still holding tightly onto your hand, like he was afraid of you slipping out of his grasp. 

Once she noticed you approaching her from behind, Chaeryeong let out a low groan. “If you guys are going to keep being gross, you should go do it somewhere else. You’re going to ruin some perfectly good fireworks!” She whined. 

You smiled over at Yeonjun, realizing this was going to be a lot easier than you thought. “So… You wouldn’t mind if we snuck away and left you guys to watch them together?” You inquired slowly. 

“What?! No! You can’t steal him away from us! Let’s split up, boys and girls!” Wooyoung grabbed Yeonjun’s other hand, trying to tug him away from you. 

“Did they teach you to do that in your Women’s Studies class?” Jisu raised an eyebrow. 

Wooyoung hissed at her. 

“Ew, I’m not going with you after you did that, freak!” Yeonjun snapped his hand out of his grip. “I’m actually feeling a little sick after The Zipper, so I just want to turn in early.” 

It was so obviously a lie, a lot worse than the one you had been planning to use, but it looked like your friends had given up hope. “Fine… Make sure you take care of him, Y/N.” Beomgyu released a sigh of defeat. 

“If you throw up on her, I’ll kill you.” Jisu threatened. Chaeryeong nodded in solidarity. 

“I’m not going to throw up on her!”

“He might! Because he’s so very sick. Come on, Jun!” You waved to your friends as you started to pull him away, smiling widely at them. “I’ll text you guys later!” 

“Don’t forget to use protection!” Wooyoung shouted once you guys were practically out of earshot. 

Your face grew hot, and you were suddenly overwhelmed with mortification. Did he want everyone at the fair to think you two were sneaking off to have sex? You hoped Jisu punched him for that. She and Chaeryeong were the only people other than Yeonjun that you had told about your… Predicament. At least you knew that those two knew you weren’t running away to hook up. You just hoped nobody else you knew heard him. 

“Ignore him. He’s a fucking idiot.” Yeonjun glared over his shoulder, and you watched as he held up a middle finger towards Wooyoung. 

“Yeah, I’ll say.” You muttered, looking down to find interest in your sandals. 

He let go of your hand, and you were about to complain but he instead wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close to him. “C’mon. Let me show you the super special spot I had in mind.” 

The entire walk to his “super special spot”, he kept a firm grip on you, keeping you close to him. You knew that Yeonjun was a touchy guy, you discovered that pretty early on. Tonight, though, he seemed clingier than usual. You didn’t really mind, in fact you liked staying close to him. There was just something about being so close to him that made you feel safe, and secure. Like nothing bad would happen as long as you were with him. 

His super special spot, as it turned out, was your house. 

You gave him a deadpan look. 

“No, I know what you’re thinking! But, look, you have a perfect view of where the fireworks go off! Especially if we climb out of your window onto your roof!” He beamed down at you proudly. 

“Absolutely not. My mom might actually wring our necks and kill us if she finds out we’re climbing up there.” You started to laugh, shaking your head at the idea. 

“But you said your mom is out with friends tonight, right? She’ll never even know we were up there.” 

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down as you mulled the idea over. He was right, you did tell him about how your mom was out drinking with some of her old friends. And if she did come home and see you up there, you might be able to convince her that she was so drunk that she imagined it, or something like that. “Okay, fine! But if I fall down and break my neck, you’re paying my medical bills.” 

“Nope! If you go down, I go down, too!” He sang, hot on your tail like a lost puppy as you wandered up your porch stairs. 

You laughed softly as you picked through your keyring to find the right one. “I’m not sure if that’s really stupid, or really romantic.” 

Suddenly, you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind, and his breath against your neck, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. “Why not both?” He asked, then leaned forward to press a kiss against your cheek. 

As you finally got the door open, you giggled, and tried to push him off of you. “Come on, this way!” You raced up the stairs, and just as you had hoped, he began to chase after you. He was barely inches behind you, filling you up with adrenaline as you screamed and turned down the hallway in the direction of your bedroom.

Unfortunately, your door was closed, which gave him plenty of time to catch up to you as your nerves made it difficult to wring the doorknob open. The second the door opened up, he caught you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off the ground. The air was filled with giggles and screams as he carried you over to your bed. 

“Yeonjun, stop--!” You barely managed to get out between your laughter, and you let out a loud yelp when he dumped you onto the cushy mattress, then crawled on top of you. 

You were out of breath as you laid against your bed, chest heaving up and down as you tried to cool your giggles. He was hovering over you, and you recalled the last time he had caged you in back at Keena’s party. As the two of you were catching your breath, though, something in the air felt different. His dark eyes were flickering between yours, like he was searching for something inside of them. 

You were suddenly overcome with a warm feeling, and before you got the chance to stop yourself and ask if this was a good idea, you whispered to him. “I think I’m in love with you.” 

For some reason, you thought you would regret telling him that. You thought it would ruin things between the two of you, and make him regret ever going out with you. But, you weren’t regretting it. You had been thinking it for over a week now, and finally, you were able to get it off of your chest. And even if he didn’t feel the same, even if he thought you were rushing into things too fast, you were just glad that you had finally worked up the nerve to tell him. Because it was true, and he deserved to know. 

He stared down at you, blinking. “You are?” He asked, barely loud enough for you to hear in the silent room. 

You nodded, taking a good look at his face. His long, pretty eyelashes, his pointed nose, his perfectly shaped lips… As you were taking him in--all of him--there was absolutely no doubt in your mind. 

“Yeah. I’m in love with you.”

The second the last word left your mouth, Yeonjun wasted no time diving down to connect his lips with yours. By that point, you had kissed him more times than you could count, but you didn’t care about any of those other times, because nothing compared to this one. 

He didn’t need to say it back. You could feel it in the way he gently pushed your stray strands of hair out of your face, and in the way he cupped your cheek as he kissed you, like you were the most precious object in the whole world to him. When he pulled away from your lips to press kisses all over your face--your eyes, your nose, your cheeks, your chin--you knew that he loved you too. 

A bright light flooded into your room through the window, followed by a loud boom. The two of you looked to see the fireworks you had been dying to see finally going off, and he was right. Your bedroom had a perfect view. 

He looked back down at you, his lips slightly swollen from all the kissing. “Do you--still wanna--watch?” He asked between breaths. 

A wave of confidence rushed over you, and you shook your head. With a shaky breath, you lifted one of your legs, hooking it around his lower back to pull him close to you. “Yeonjun…I’m ready for you.” 

The room glowed red. “Are you--Are you sure?” He whispered, furrowing his brows as he examined your face. 

Before now, you’d never really felt the desire to be with someone intimately like that. Nobody had ever made your heart race the way he did, and if you were going to give a piece of yourself away to anyone, you wanted it to be him. The first boy you had ever really, truly loved. In an attempt to show him just how serious you were, you reached down, grabbing the edge of your shirt and slowly pulling it up over your head so you were left only with your bra. 

His eyes widened, then he leaned down to kiss you again. Now, his kisses were getting rougher, more aggressive, like you had woken something up inside of him. His hand roamed down to the side of your thigh, as his lips moved to attach themselves to your neck. “I need you to tell me. Tell me you’re sure about this.” He mumbled against your skin in between kisses.

You grabbed a hold of the sides of his face, pulling him away and forcing him to look at you. You pressed one more kiss against his lips, then said the magic words. 

“I’ve never been more sure about anything.” 

YOU HAD NEVER BEEN A BIG FAN OF AUGUST. It was the last month of summer, and usually the month that school started back up again. It was like the Sunday of the year--sure, it was still a part of your break, but it was also when the dread of returning to stupid school set in. You didn’t like it when you were a kid, and you didn’t like it now. 

Well, before this year you didn’t like it. Now, you were starting to like it. And that’s because you and Yeonjun officially became a couple on the first day of August. You had probably spent way too much time with him in the last week, but you didn’t care. You were in the honeymoon phase, where you just wanted to be beside him constantly. 

Your days were spent wandering around town, whether it be eating lunch together at different restaurants, or going for walks along the beach, and splashing each other with the ocean water as you swam. And your nights were spent twisted in bedsheets, and filled with pillow talk that stretched into the early hours of the mornings. 

It’s safe to say you were absolutely head over heels for Choi Yeonjun. If he was a bright, blazing flame, then you were like a moth, unable to put up a fight as you found yourself drawn to him. 

The problem with the honeymoon phase, though, is that it will always come to an end. 

On Saturday, you were rudely awakened by the sun rising and flooding Yeonjun’s room with light. You groaned, trying to roll away from the light, but his arm was wrapped firmly around your waist, and there was no chance you were going anywhere. 

“Yeonjun?” You called out weakly, and draped one of your arms over your eyes in an attempt to block out the light. 

He hummed against your neck. 

“Jun, wake up. I need to close the curtain.” You whined, trying to shake yourself out of his grip. 

“No… Stay here.” He grumbled, and buried his face deeper into your neck. You giggled softly, but were still annoyed nonetheless.

“Come on, it’s hurting my eyes.” 

“I’ll fix it.” He lazily reached down to grab the edge of your waist, then pulled you to help turn you to face him. 

Finally, you were able to hide against his bare chest from the sunlight. “Okay, this is lots better.” You mumbled, and scooted closer so you could get nestled against him. It wasn’t the most comfortable position in the world, but it definitely beat having the sun in your eyes. 

“Let’s just sleep forever.” Yeonjun muttered groggily against your hair, tightening his grip on your waist to pull you closer to him. Honestly, it wasn’t sounding like the worst idea in the world. You would be perfectly content spending the rest of the day hiding in his room, especially since you’d have to deal with the dirty looks of his friends as you tried to sneak out. 

You could slowly feel yourself drifting back off into sleep when the door to the room flung open. Yeonjun was quick to sit up and see who it was, while you weren’t so quick to react. You were starting to grow angry from all the things preventing you from going back to sleep. 

“Um, Yeonjun… You need to get her out of here.” You could hear Beomgyu saying, which piqued your interest. You sat up, holding the comforter close to your chest to cover yourself. 

“Excuse me?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at his long haired friend. 

Beomgyu looked… Scared, as his eyes darted between you and Yeonjun. 

“What? What do you mean?” Yeonjun was rubbing his eyes to try and wake himself up. 

“It’s…” Beomgyu’s voice trailed off, glancing over at you again, like he was too afraid to say the answer in front of you. “Karina.” 

You felt Yeonjun tense up next to you. If he wasn’t awake before, he definitely was now, as he stared at Beomgyu with eyes as wide as saucers. He seemed to understand what his friend was talking about the second the name left his lips, but you were still completely in the dark about what was going on. And you hated being the only one left out of the loop. Which is why you asked the question, even though you should have known better. 

“Who’s Karina?” 

Stupid. Stupid, you were so stupid! Immediately after you asked it, you figured out the answer to your own question. And the looks on both Beomgyu and Yeonjun’s faces as they looked over at you--the looks of pity and guilt--confirmed it for you. 

Be careful around him, Y/N. 

“Oh.” 

You felt frozen in place as they just stared at you, like they were waiting for some kind of reaction. But, you were in so much shock, with so many different thoughts going a million miles a minute, you didn’t know how to react. Did you scream? Did you cry? Did you slap him? You didn’t know what you were supposed to do. 

The only thing you knew of for sure was you needed to get out of there. If you spent another second in that room--in his bed--you were going to lose your mind. 

“Beomgyu… Can you get out? I need to get dressed.” You said slowly, your voice starting to waver. 

He nodded wordlessly, then stepped out of the room and closed the door behind you. All it had taken was a matter of seconds for the place you didn’t want to leave to become the last place on Earth you wanted to be. 

“Y/N, please.” Was all Yeonjun said as you stood up from the bed. His voice sounded far away. 

You didn’t respond as you slowly dressed yourself. Through the wall, you could hear voices talking in another room, one of which obviously belonging to a girl. There was no way you were going to be able to go out that way, which meant you were going to have to climb out the window. When you were a little girl, the idea of sneaking out of a boy’s room through the window sounded exciting and romantic. Now, it was a part of your worst nightmare. 

Once you finally had your clothes on, you walked over to the window--the same, stupid window that had woken you up earlier in the morning. You hated that stupid window. 

“Y/N, I can explain everything, I swear I can--” 

“You have a guest, it sounds like. You’d better go say hi.” You said numbly as you opened up the window. You took note of how, like your window in your bedroom, there was no screen. Which reminded you of the night he had hit you in the face with a pebble. 

You should have never gone out to talk to him that night. 

“Please, baby, just--” You didn’t give him a chance to finish. Without a look back at him, you slipped out of his window, and onto his rooftop. He didn’t try to stop you.

Your entire walk home, you felt numb all over. You weren’t sure how to process what had just happened. All you could do was keep replaying the way Yeonjun had looked at you. The pathetic, guilty look on his face, and his sad eyes as he gazed at you. Even worse, the pity on Beomgyu’s features. Like you were some puppy that had just gotten kicked to the curb.  

At home, your mom was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a coffee and reading the book you’d brought along on the trip. With everything that had been happening as of late, you hadn’t really had much time to read, so she had decided to pick it up. 

You were hoping to just avoid any conversation and go up to your room, but of course, you never got the things you hoped for. Your mom heard you open the door, and put the book down to look at you. 

“Y/N? Are you alright?” She asked, and you weren’t sure how she was able to tell something was wrong, but it must have been a mother’s instinct, or something like that. 

You could just lie, and tell her you were fine, but you knew she wouldn’t believe that. Your bottom lip trembled, and you shook your head. “No.” Was all you could manage to get out before you burst into an explosion of sobs. Lucky for you, your mother was quick, and rushed to your side before you could collapse onto the floor. 

“Oh, honey, what happened?” She gently caressed your hair, trying her hardest to console you. But, you’d never broken down like this in front of her before, so you weren’t surprised when she didn’t fully know how to help you. 

Since you had asked that question, and gotten those looks in response, you had been trying to avoid directly confronting what had happened. You just knew something was bad, and that he had been lying to you about it. But, now, you were forced to finally say the words that had been lingering in the back, waiting to be acknowledged, that you’d been too afraid of. 

“I think--I think he’s been cheating on me.” You cried out in between sobs, your body trembling in her arms. You could hardly breathe from how hard you were crying, could barely see through the tears nonstop flooding your eyes. “God, I’m such--I’m such an idiot! I should have known, I should have fucking known!” 

“Hey, no. You’re not an idiot.” Your mom said firmly, gently forcing you to look at her. “You’re not an idiot. If he really is cheating on you, then he’s the idiot.” 

You shook your head, rapidly blinking away your tears in an attempt to be able to look at her. More than anyone in the world, you knew she would be able to understand what had happened to you. How it had taken seconds for your world to be shattered. 

In your time dating Yeonjun, you hadn’t even told your mom about him. She was recovering from her divorce, you thought that telling her all about how you were falling for someone would be insensitive, or something, so you chose not to tell her about it. Even still, she wasn’t asking you questions, like who was cheating on you, or anything like that. Instead, she was just doing her best to comfort you, and be there for you. 

“I’m an idiot because… Because I think I still love him.” You whimpered. 

“I know you do.” She whispered, and pulled you into a hug as you sobbed into her shoulder. 

“I know you do.”

“HER NAME IS KARINA.” 

You hadn’t left your room in days. You spent most of your time either crying, sleeping or eating.  There was this heavy feeling in your chest, like your heart was physically aching, which was making it hard to motivate yourself to do anything. The fear of running into Yeonjun or any of his friends was also keeping you from leaving. 

The worst part of it all, though, was he hadn’t tried to reach out once. You had expected a bunch of phone calls, and to be bombarded with text messages, hell maybe he would show up on your doorstep and ask your mom to talk to you. But, all you got from him was radio silence. You supposed he was too busy with Karina. 

You did get lots of texts from Chaeryeong, Jisu, and even Keena wondering where you had been. When you didn’t respond, they took it upon themselves to show up at your house, asking your mom if you had died. 

They found you curled up on your bed, watching Twenty-Five Twenty-One—aka the perfect drama to cry to—on your laptop. If even Yijin and Heedo hadn’t been able to make it, what in the world made you think that you and Yeonjun stood a chance? At least Yijin hadn’t cheated on Heedo, though. 

After lots and lots of pressuring, you finally cracked and told them what happened. About how Beomgyu had burst into the room, and about how Yeonjun didn’t chase after you when you escaped out the window. 

“Okay, but you don’t know who she is, right? How do you know he was cheating?” Chaeryeong had asked you, while Jisu seethed in the corner. 

“It was written all over his face. I just knew.”

After that, Jisu told you she was going to go undercover and gather information for you. You told her she really didn’t need to do that, you weren’t sure you even wanted to know any information, but she insisted. Because even if you didn’t want to hear it then, you might want to hear it later. 

Which led to now, where the three of you were gathered on your porch, going over the information. You had basically been forced to go outside, because according to Chaeryeong, you were in desperate need of some Vitamin D… The sunlight kind. 

“Yeah, I already gathered that much.” You responded, pulling your knees up to your chest. 

Jisu nodded. “Right. Okay. According to Beomgyu, they’d been going out for almost a year, but started fighting pretty bad this spring.” 

“A year…” You swallowed hard, the familiar feeling of tears prickling the corners of your eyes starting to arise. 

“Yeah… They decided to take a break this summer. So, technically, they’re not together right now.” 

Chaeryeong gasped. “Wait! This is just like that episode of Friends! I think, I dunno, I never watched that show.” 

Jisu glared at her. “Sure. Like Friends. Anyway, Wooyoung said she just showed up that morning, looking for Yeonjun. Apparently, she missed him, and decided to come surprise him, and end their break early, or whatever.” 

You stared aimlessly out at the street, holding yourself back from blinking, so the tears wouldn’t spill out of your eyes. “So, this whole time… From the first bonfire we talked at… He’s had someone else on his mind.” You croaked out. 

Chaeryeong sat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I really believed him, too.”

“He’s a fucking asshole. I’m gonna go kill him.” Jisu muttered as she paced back and forth across the porch.

“Don’t do that.” You shook your head, wiping the stray tears that spilled from your eyes off of your cheeks. “I don’t—I don’t want him to know how badly he hurt me. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.”

Jisu exchanged a look with Chaeryeong, then her muscles relaxed. “Okay. You’re right.” She said with a sigh. 

Suddenly, Chaeryeong’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you know the perfect way to do that?” She asked excitedly, sitting forward in her seat. 

You shook your head. 

“So, Seungmin is throwing a huge bonfire party down at the beach with his friends, maybe we could find you a guy to flirt with, take your mind off of Yeonjun!” 

You absolutely hated how badly your time with Yeonjun affected you. Because now, the thought of flirting with anyone who wasn’t him made your stomach churn. “Oh. Yeah, um, I don’t know…”

“We know you’re probably afraid of running into him.” Jisu jumped in. You wondered if they’d been planning this. “But, what if we can promise you he won’t be there?” 

You must have been visibly grimacing at the thought, as Chaeryeong was quick to start trying to change your mind. “Please, Y/N! We miss going out with you so much! Just come and try to let yourself have fun, and if you’re still not feeling it, we’ll take you home!” She was practically begging, and Jisu was nodding fervently in agreement. 

They were probably right. A night out would be good for you, and help take your mind off of everything. There was just a part of you that didn’t want to take your mind off of it. Some sick part of you enjoyed the pain—not because you were a masochist or anything, but because the pain meant it wasn’t completely over yet. 

Maybe it was time for it to be over, though. 

“…You can absolutely guarantee he won’t be there?” You looked between the two of them. 

Chaeryeong nodded. “Mhm! We will tell Wooyoung and Beomgyu to keep him far away from that beach!” She told you enthusiastically. 

With both of their eyes trained on you intensely, you realized you didn’t really have a choice in the matter. You let out a sigh. “Okay, fine. I’ll go.”

GOING TO A BONFIRE FOR YOUR FIRST NIGHT OUT SINCE finding out your boyfriend had been lying to you for months was not the best idea. After all, it has been at a bonfire party earlier in the summer where you had reconnected with him. Now, at the party where you were supposed to be thinking about anything but him, he was all you could think about. 

Even when you were talking to a perfectly attractive guy, who was very obviously into you, all you could think about was him. Some guy—Taehyun, you think his name was?—visiting for the summer that was randomly invited by Seungmin had taken interest in you the second you and your friends arrived, and they insisted you go talk to him. 

“Yeah, I spend a lot of time at the gym. I’m hoping to start boxing soon.” He was explaining to you as you were both walking along the beach. You nodded mindlessly, swirling around the beer in your plastic cup. “What about you? You in school, or anything?”

“Oh, I study environmental science.” You answered, then took a long sip of your beer, reveling in the way it burned your throat as it went down. Of course, because you couldn’t think of anything else, you couldn’t stop yourself from being reminded of your first date with him. 

Taehyun’s eyes lit up. “Oh wow, that’s so cool! What kind of job are you hoping to get with that?”

You shrugged, and took another drink of your beer. Jisu and Chaeryeong were going to regret letting you go off on your own later. “You know, I’m not totally sure. Some kind of environmental scientist or something.” 

He laughed, although you weren’t sure why, since it wasn’t meant to be a joke or anything. “You’re really funny, Y/N.”

“Thanks…?” You glanced over at him with furrowed eyebrows. “People call me a lot of things, but I don’t think funny is a really common one.” 

“Oh really? What do they call you?” He asked, clearly amused. 

“You know… Smart, nice, pretty…” You flashed him a smile, unsure where this flirty side of you was coming from. It was probably a combination of the alcohol and your desperation to get Yeonjun off of your mind. 

“Ah, I can definitely see why they might call you those things.” He replied smoothly, and bumped his shoulder against your own. Instinctively, you glanced over your shoulder, searching for Jisu and Chaeryeong somewhere. Although, you wished you hadn’t. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Taehyun asked when you stopped dead in your tracks. 

You dropped your cup into the sand. 

You couldn’t believe the fucking audacity. There he was, with the most drop dead gorgeous girl you had seen in your entire life. You could barely see his face due to how far away he was, and the darkness blanketing the beach, but you could tell he was looking for someone—looking for you. 

To say you were panicked was an understatement. The second you saw his face, you were whipping around to face Taehyun. You could feel your breaths start to quicken, and your hand darted up to press against your chest. Hadn’t Jisu and Chaeryeong promised you that he wouldn’t be there? You were barely prepared for a night out without him, much less a night out with him. 

“Woah, are you alright?” Taehyun asked, gently taking hold of your arms like you might topple over—which, you probably might. 

“I—um, I need to get out of here.” You answered, the all too familiar feeling of tears forming in the corners of your eyes making an appearance. “Can you help me find my friends?” 

Taehyun nodded, starting to lead you in the direction of the fire without a question. You raised one of your hands in an attempt to block your face from view. He really was a sweet guy. It was too bad you were still very hooked on someone else. 

He slid an arm around your shoulder—likely in an attempt to comfort you rather than to try and flirt with you. At least you hoped that’s what it was. Your eyes landed on Chaeryeong, who was swaying in front of the bonfire with Seungmin’s arms around her waist, and let out a sigh of relief. You were almost there. 

Any efforts you made to hide your face from view proved to be futile, though. You discovered this when Taehyun suddenly let go of you, then you heard his body hit the sand. There was a collection of gasps, and you turned to see Yeonjun standing there, flexing his fingers. 

He punched him! He fucking punched him!

“What the fuck is your problem?!” You demanded, shoving his chest with as much force as you could muster so he stumbled backwards. 

“Hey, don’t touch him!” A feminine voice spoke up behind him, and you could physically feel your face pale. Karina. 

“Stop, it’s fine.” Yeonjun reassured her, then turned to look at you with narrowed eyes. “He was fucking all over you, Y/N.” 

“No he wasn’t!” You spat back at him as you helped Taehyun to his feet. “Besides, even if he was, you don’t get to fucking care. Not anymore.” 

Karina was visibly confused, but you didn’t really care right now. You were too busy focusing on not crying, and instead appearing as intimidating as possible. 

“Y/N, let’s just go talk for a minute, please let me explain—“ 

“No! I don’t need you to explain, Yeonjun, I understand perfectly fucking well. You were fighting with your girlfriend, you were on a break, and in a desperate attempt to get some action this summer, you lied to me and told me you loved me.”

Okay, now you were definitely crying. 

“Jun? What is she talking about?” Karina asked slowly, looking over at her boyfriend with wide eyes. 

He didn’t look at her, though. Instead, he had his eyes trained on you, lips pressed tightly together. 

“See? You can’t even try to tell me it’s not true. Just stay away from me, Yeonjun.” You snapped, and turned away from him before he could see you cry any more. 

As you stormed away from the bonfire—heading god knows where—you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore. You were drunk, and sobbing, and overall in the worst emotional distress you never imagined could be possible. Your head was spinning as you stomped away, barely able to keep yourself standing from the way your ankles kept twisting in the sand. 

Miserable didn’t even begin to describe how you were feeling. You still weren’t sure where in the world you were going, but all you knew was you needed to get far, far away from that place. Far away from your friends who had pressured you into coming out tonight; far from Taehyun, who was too kind to you for you to be able to handle. And most of all, you needed to be far away from Choi Yeonjun. 

Just a week earlier, you couldn’t imagine being apart from him for more than a few minutes. Now, though, you couldn’t imagine being around him for more than a second. All it took was one look at him for you to be overwhelmed with heartache. 

“Y/N!” 

Of course. 

You didn’t have to look back to know who was jogging up behind you. “I told you to stay away from me!” Your voice cracked as you shouted back at him. 

“Y/N, you’re stumbling all over the place, let me help you before you fall!” You felt his hands grab ahold of your arms in an attempt to steady you, and for a second—just for a second—you could feel yourself melt into the familiar touch. But, it only lasted a second. 

“Don’t touch me!” You screamed, and finally turned around to face him. His expression was wracked with guilt, and you almost felt bad. Almost. “You promised me, Yeonjun! You fucking promised me!” You jabbed a finger into his chest as the words tumbled out of your mouth. 

“I know, I know, and I’m so sorry Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, and you could see the tears slipping onto his cheeks catch the moonlight. “I was going to tell you everything, I was—“

“Did I mean anything to you, Yeonjun? Or was I just another conquest to keep your summer interesting?” 

His eyes widened. “Did you mean anything—of course you did, Y/N—I mean, you do.” He told you, and his hand cupped your cheek. You didn’t fight his touch, this time. “I wasn’t lying when I told you I love you. I do, Y/N, I love you.” 

You couldn’t look him in the eyes. “If you really love me, why did you let me fall in love with you, knowing that you were never going to be mine?” 

“I am yours, Y/N! I’ve been yours since the first night I showed up outside your house. I knew that night that I was done with Karina, I just want you.” He was pleading with you, his thumb stroking your cheek as he tried to get you to look at him. 

“How—how am I supposed to trust you, Yeonjun? How do I know you’re not lying to me again?”

He shook his head, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “I-I don’t know, Y/N. If you just give me one more chance, let me prove myself to you—“ 

You pulled his hand off your cheek. “No, Yeonjun. I already gave you a chance. I told you about my dad, and how badly it fucked me up, just for you to turn me into the other woman.”

“You are not the other woman, babe, you’re so much more than that.” His whole face was wet with tears, and you imagined yours looked the same. Glimmering under the moonlight, it might look beautiful if it wasn’t for the context. 

“I’m sorry, Yeonjun. I love you, I really do, but I can’t. So please just let me go.” 

A small part of you wished he had fought for you. If he begged for you to forgive him just a little bit longer, you probably would have given in. You were so desperately in love with him, you probably would have taken him back and one day been able to put this entire thing behind you. When he gave you a defeated nod, though, you felt your heart sink. 

“Okay. Okay. But, please, Y/N, just don’t ever think I don’t love you, or that everything I said to you was a lie. Because it wasn’t. I love you.”

Every time he said those three words, it was like a knife to your heart. Every time, your whole summer together replayed in your head, from the moment you two talked at the bonfire, to the moment Beomgyu said Karina’s name. How had it all fallen apart so easily? How could two people who loved each other so much end up like this?

You knew things were over between the two of you. As badly as it hurt, and as badly as you didn’t want things to be done, you knew they were. So, you decided to do one last thing. You stepped towards him, and gently cradled his face in your hands. 

“I know. I love you, too.” You whispered, then closed the distance between the two of you. 

If ever in your life you could choose one moment to frame in your mind forever, it would be that kiss. Even though your lips were both wet with tears, and you were still a bit drunk, it was still the most romantic moment of your entire life. His arms snaked around your waist and pulled you close to him, like if he tried enough, he could melt your bodies into one, and you’d never have to leave him. 

You knew, in that moment, you would never get over him. No matter how hard you tried, you would never be able to shake your connection to him. Even though he had put you through hell in the last week, he had also gifted you the best summer of your life. There would always be a part of you that loved him. 

As much as you never wanted to let go of him, you knew you had to eventually. So, you reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, and pressed your forehead against his. 

“Goodbye, Yeonjun.” This time, when you started to walk away, he didn’t try to stop you. 

That was the last time you saw Choi Yeonjun. 

FOUR MONTHS LATER…

YOU HADN’T MEANT TO KILL THE MOOD. Everyone had just finished their finals, which obviously meant it was time to go out and celebrate. Just like every other night throughout the semester, you hadn’t really been in the mood to go out, but Haeun insisted you go out tonight. 

“Look, I don’t know what in the hell happened to you this summer, but it’s been months! It’s time to get over it!” She had told you. “Please come do something fun with us! Just for tonight!” 

Haeun wasn’t exactly the kind of girl to take no for an answer. Even though you would much rather curl up on your bed and watch a drama on your laptop like you did the majority of your nights since you arrived on campus, you knew deep down you didn’t really have a choice. 

Which was how you ended up in some bar on the edge of campus. Haeun and her friends were going off about some girl they all seemed to hate, but you weren’t really paying much attention. You were a bit too preoccupied playing this little game with yourself where you drank as much as you could before anyone noticed and stopped you. 

“Did you see her newest Instagram post? She’s so lame.” Haeun’s friend, Choonhee leaned over to show Nari, who started laughing loudly. You had never really liked Haeun’s friends. They were too mean for your tastes. 

“Y/N~!” Haeun sang to you, leaning in close so only you would be able to hear her. “That guy over there has been checking you out all night.” 

You rolled your eyes, but followed her gaze anyway. Sure enough, there was a guy on the other end of the club, eyes trained on you as he took a sip of his drink. Immediately, you started shaking your head, and Haeun frowned. 

“Why notttt, Y/N? He’s cute, and you’re single, just go talk to him!” She whined at you. 

“I’m not interested, Haeun.” You took a drink of the cocktail you’d been working on. 

She groaned. “Why?! I know you’re shy, or whatever, but you’re about to graduate soon! And you can’t graduate as a virgin!” 

You choked on your drink, and she raised an eyebrow at you. “Unless… You’re not a virgin anymore…? Is that why you’ve been acting weird since this summer?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You sighed. Great, now you were thinking about him again. And you did not want to be thinking about him again. “I’m gonna go get a shot. You want anything?” 

“No. And you don’t need another shot. Do you think I didn’t notice you downing drinks all night?” 

Choonhee and Nari started to quiet down, taking interest in your conversation with Haeun. 

“I’m fine, Haeun. I can handle my liquor.” You waved a hand at her as you started to stand up. Your skirt got caught on your chair, though, causing you to nearly fall down. You heard Chanhee and Nari start to giggle, and shot the two of them dirty looks. 

Haeun looked at you warily, then slowly stood as well. “Um, I actually forgot but Y/N has work tomorrow. So I think I’m gonna take her home.” 

Choonhee rolled her eyes. “Please. We’re trying to celebrate, we really don’t need her ruining the mood.” She said it in a hushed voice, like you might not be able to hear her. But, of course you did. 

You heard everything that people said about you. During your last week of the summer, before coming home, you heard Jisu and Chaeryeong whispering about you. Poor Y/N. When you were road tripping back home with your mom, and you were supposed to be asleep, you heard your mother talking about you. Poor Y/N. When you were supposed to meet Haeun for lunch, you heard her talking to Choonhee and Nari. She used to be so much more fun. 

You heard everything. 

Haeun led you out of the bar, before you got the urge to fight someone. Now that you were outside, with the cool air on your face, you realized just how much you had drunk. Your head was spinning, and you weren’t sure you were entirely conscious. It felt like your mind was on a completely different plane from your body. Still, though, as drunk as you were, you still couldn’t get him out of your mind.

As Haeun started to order an Uber, you couldn’t think of anything else better to do than to pull out your phone. Maybe you would text Chaeryeong and Jisu to tell them you missed them, or text your mom really quickly. But you weren’t able to do any of that. The lone notification staring up at you prevented any of that from happening.

Just your fucking luck. 

yeonjun

hey

You absolutely couldn’t believe it. That was all you got? A fucking hey?! After all that shit, he texted you hey? You had half a nerve to smash your phone onto the concrete. 

But, before you got the chance, the Uber that Haeun ordered rolled up against the sidewalk. You stumbled into the backseat next to Haeun, who you could tell was a little bothered by your behavior. You really hadn’t meant to ruin her night. Even though she was the one who had insisted you go out with them that night, she still didn’t deserve to deal with you when you were acting like this. 

You turned on your phone again to stare at the message. 

hey

You hated him. You hated him for waiting until now to text you—you hated him for texting you at all! He should have just left you alone. He single-handedly ruined your night, and probably your whole week with that text message. Most of all, you hated him because you missed him. So bad. 

You didn’t remember when you started crying. But you did. One minute you were fine, blinking at your screen blankly. And suddenly your cheeks were wet, and tears had dropped down onto your phone. Your vision was becoming foggy, but you were still able to make out the contents of the notification. 

“Woah, are you okay?” Haeun asked, leaning forward to get a better look at you. 

“Fine!” You huffed, and wiped at your eyes. Your fingers moved faster than your brain did, and before you got the chance to consider if it was a good idea, you were dialing a number. 

One ring…

Two rings…

Three rings…

For eight rings, you sat there waiting for him to pick up. And he never did. Instead, you were sent to his voicemail. 

“Hey, this is Yeonjun. Sorry I missed you. Leave your name and number and I’ll give you a call back. Bye!” 

Just the pre recorded sound of his voice over your phone speaker made your chest tighten. The phone beeped, giving you the cue to start talking. You could feel Haeun’s stare burning holes into your head, like she was trying to figure out who in the world you were calling. 

“Really, Yeonjun? You text me, and can’t even answer the phone? You text me hey, and can’t pick up the phone? What’s your problem? By the way, what does that even mean?! Hey?! That’s all you have to say to me, after everything you did?” 

You could feel your voice cracking as you shouted into the phone. Haeun was visibly intrigued by your voicemail, leaning in closer to hear you better--as if your loud shouts weren’t occupying the entire vehicle.

“Whatever… Hey. I guess I just wanted to tell you that I… I hate you. I hate you Yeonjun, so fucking bad! When my dad cheated on my mom, and destroyed our family, I never thought that I could hate someone more than I hated him. But guess what, Yeonjun? You proved me wrong! So congratulations!” 

Your head was starting to pound--badly--so you leaned over to rest your head against the window. The few stray tears from before had developed into a full on rainstorm, coating your cheeks in salty wetness and worsening your headache. For a minute, you just sat there in silence, trying your best to keep your breathing steady. It wasn’t working. 

After your long silence, you finally sucked in a long, shaky breath, then spoke again. “I hate you because I gave you all of me. All of me. And you--you just threw it all away! Like it was just nothing to you!” By that point, you had forgotten all about the other people in the car with you. Now, it was just you, and Yeonjun. You didn’t care about Haeun sitting next to you, or the Uber driver listening in on the conversation. All you cared about was getting the words that had been weighing heavy against your chest for the last four months off of you. 

“You know what I hate most though, Yeonjun?” You asked, your trembling voice barely above a whisper. “I hate that even though you broke my promise, even though you were never truly mine… Even though I should hate you… I can’t. No matter how hard I try, I can’t bring myself to hate you. I think about you, all of the time. Even when Jeong Jaehyun, the hottest guy in our whole program asked me out on a date, I had to say no. Because I knew that he would never be you.”

A breathy laugh fights itself out of your lips. “I sound so fucking pathetic. And it’s because I am! I am fucking pathetic! But it’s all your fault! Because for whatever reason that I still can’t figure out, I love you. I still love you, so much, Yeonjun. Isn’t that just the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” 

There’s a tap on your shoulder, and when you glanced over at Haeun, you realized the car stopped. You looked out the window again to see you had already made it to your apartment complex. Jeez, how long had you been talking on the phone for?

“Shit. I’ve gotta go. Um, if you’re going to text me again, do more than just hit me with a hey. Or, I don’t know, call me. You know we’re way past sending each other heys.” 

You opened up the car door, mouthing a small “sorry” to Haeun. “We are so talking later!” She whisper-shouted back to you. You rolled your eyes as you stepped out of the car. You’d have to make sure Haeun gave that driver a nice tip later. 

“Okay. Goodbye, Yeonjun.” You said with a sigh, standing still on the pavement leading to your apartment as the car started to drive away. “I miss you.” You whispered, and finally ended the call. 

Luckily, your angry ranting over the phone had helped you to sober up enough that you made it into your apartment no problem. Your head was still spinning, though, and you practically fell onto your bed as you climbed into it. You were still drenched in makeup, and wearing the clubbing outfit Haeun had helped you pick out, but you were too tired to worry about all of that. You were ready to just pass out right then and there. 

Sprawled out across your mess of blankets, you could feel yourself drifting off to sleep. You knew you had messed up with that stupid voicemail, but you weren’t going to worry about it now. That was Sober Y/N’s problem to deal with. 

There was a familiar buzzing, though, and you were slowly pulled back into consciousness. Your hand grappled around your bed, trying to locate the source of the buzzing, then finally landed atop your phone. With a groggy groan, you rolled over onto your side, and held your phone in front of your face. Your eyes widened when you saw the caller ID. 

Should you answer? Or should you leave it be? You knew if you answered it, you were opening up a whole new door you weren’t sure you were ready for. Answering it was dangerous. If you ignored the call, you might finally be able to start your journey of moving on forever. You might finally have the chance of leaving him behind. Either way, this phone call was a very decisive moment for you. Whatever you decided to choose, you knew it was going to change your relationship with him forever. 

So, what would it be? Would you open that door, or leave it shut forever? Deep down, before you even made your decision, you knew what you were going to do. 

Your phone stopped buzzing. 

It was quiet. 

And then… 

“Hey, Y/N.” 

You smiled. 

“Hey, Yeonjun.” 

permanent tag list: @exohclipse @stellz581 @ttyunz @mazeinthemoon @luvsoobs @n0-thisispatrick @arizzu @naveries @yeonboy @blaaiissee

tag list: @jakeshands @therealhyunjingf @loveliii @hearts4csb @emohazuzworld @yxnjvnnie @1921choi @tyunlatte @goldennika @agustdiv1ne @suhnnyskiess @wonioml @kazuhasmyhusband @yoshivitamins @jan-l @hkplushier @samisubi @sulliefimmie @choijxn @ta3ology @rikismiel @hyunniesluvs @myahfig4 @ineedsomezzz @destairea @cherriesbloss0m

[alexanderwales]

Pitchposting: Generation Ship

(Pitchposting is a way of giving away ideas that threaten to grow in my mind until they become draft documents. They are free to a good home, though there's no guarantee that I won't try to write them at some point.)

Alright, hear me out: it's a generation ship, one expected to reach its destination with an entirely new generation of people who never knew the homeland, except instead of being a scifi concept, we're doing it as mundane as possible.

I think this is one of those ideas that only appeals to me because I immediately start thinking about the logistics of it all, and there's something in the mundane, gritty realism that really appeals to me. Mostly I'm worldbuilding and problem solving, trying to get at what it would actually be like for people to have been at sea their entire lives, to have a ship that either needs to endure the waves or be rebuilt as it goes.

I was going to say that this needs to be fantasy, but I guess technically it can be an Alderson Disk or something. An Alderson Disk has a habitable circumference of approximately a billion kilometers, a sailing ship can go maybe eighty miles a day, that's a ballpark of 12.5 million days to circumnavigate the disk, which is 34,000 years. That's a hell of a lot of generations, twice as long as we've had agriculture. (But you could also just have it be a fantasy world that's larger than our own, with a generation ship that was only trying to flee to greener pastures that are a hundred years away.)

The purest version of this story is a world that's just water, to match the void of space. The ship sails, repairs are made from flotsam and jetsam and driftwood from unspecified places, rainwater is caught and put into barrels, pitch is used for patching, fish and kelp are hauled up from the ocean, birds are captured from the sky, and the ship must necessarily endure storms and swells.

I've always felt there was something compelling about constrained living situations, places where everyone knows everyone and you have to make it work because there's absolutely no way out — where you're on a knife's edge because there's only so much preparation you can do. A generation ship needs to think about absolutely all of its needs and how it will deal with the deterioration of all things over time, along with problems that might only crop up once every hundred years, or problems that won't become apparent until long after the ship has left the dock.

Let's say you have a sailing ship the size of one of the largest sailing vessels of the 19th century, a thousand people all told. The families are carefully braided to prevent accidental incest, everyone has their position in life, every master has at least one apprentice but probably more so gout or cancer don't eliminate the last person who knew how to make more pitch.

This is clearly an Idea story, one that starts with a ridiculous premise and then explores it, but one of my favorite things about idea stories is finding the characters and the conflicts within them. For a generation ship, the biggest, most obvious conflict is the conflict between generations: the old people who once knew dry land, the middle generation who will likely die before the destination is reached, and the children who will be the beneficiaries of all this travel.

We have a woman who was born to the sea, who loves the sea, who loves the travel and takes great joy in knowing that she's probably not going to see the end of it until she's ancient. We have the grizzled sailor who's nearly risen to the rank of captain and sees the whole mission as utter foolishness. A boy of thirteen who is obsessed with writing stories about the land they've set off toward and keeps his telescope on the horizon, hoping that the predictions were off, that they're somehow two decades early. A girl of sixteen who doesn't feel suited to the marriage that's planned for her, who is secretly in love with her best friend. A scientist who has been quietly advancing the state of knowledge with every new fish brought up from the deeps.

And then there's the plot, which there are so, so many options for. I would start the novel with simple sailing, a few chapters of the daily routine, the personalities, their petty fights with each other, and the stress of being in the middle of unfathomably deep waters whose depths are only glimpsed when the nets bring up something new. Then ... an island, another ship, sea creatures that have a glimmer of intelligence, a storm that makes the ship limp, spoilage that threatens starvation unless drastic action is taken, a political squabble that might bring all the plans crashing down.

Maybe it's a book about being trapped by the past, or about hanging on by what feels like a delicate thread, or about how systems are fragile and careful thinking and brave leadership are the only things that will get us through.

Mostly I think I want to be a geek about a ship that needs to survive in the ocean for a hundred years, and I do not have the time to write this novel, not when there are so many other novels to write.

[klausinamarink]

One Kid Gone, Another Up and Vanished

ok wow a lot of you really love my Eddie in the UD with Will au and want that in fruition, huh… so by popular demand here’s like a very rough oneshot. Basically a first draft that sets up the overall plot until i write a better one someday in the future

Edit: I lied, here’s the other parts (ongoing): Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 now on ao3!

Wayne doesn’t hear the news of Will Byers’ disappearance until the afternoon workers come in. Within minutes, the whole plant is buzzing with bewilderment and sympathy. But there is also an underline of fear that struck some of the hearts of the family men. Hawkins hadn’t seen any child disappearance cases, at least not since Wayne moved to the town in the last decade.

He is worried about the boy, especially for the Byers family. He doesn’t know Joyce too well, but they’ve talked plenty at Melvard’s with stories of their boys being quietly mischievous. Wayne sent a silent prayer that Will can be found soon and bring his mother peace.

He doesn’t speed the drive way home, but it’s damn close. He just wants Eddie to be home safe without some boogeyman taking him away.

Thankfully, his nephew is on the couch and watching a movie. He greets Wayne with a lazy wave, “Weren’t enough leftovers so I made some dinner. Hope you won’t die from my veggie soup.”

Wayne ruffles his hair - which had grown past his ears now - and sits next to him. “You heard about the Byers boy?”

“Hm, yeah. Everyone was talking about it. Saw Jonathan putting up the flyers too.” Eddie says, his eyes still on the TV.

Wayne puts an arm around him, making Eddie look at him. “Ya know that if you ever go missing, I’ll search even the lands of Hell for you.”

Eddie’s quiet. He stares with misty eyes, which he quickly blinks away. Then he lightly shoves at Wayne’s ribs. “‘Course, you would, old man. I’m the only family you care about.”

“Hey, don’t go disrespecting your cousins like that.” Wayne jokes back, making Eddie laugh. The two of them watch the movie in comfortable silence until Wayne has the mind to get up and shower.

—

It’s a double shift today. It means extra pay but it also means Wayne wouldn’t be home until early morning. He tells Eddie this before leaving and Eddie says it’s fine as usual, only that he had band practice so he’ll be coming home late. Wayne tells him make sure to stay safe too.

The next morning comes as the second day of Will Byers’ disappearance. Wayne is predictably sore and tired, but his mind remains sharp as stone.

It’s why he doesn’t miss that Eddie’s van isn’t parked next to the trailer.

The small pebble of concern forms in his stomach, but he brushes it off. Eddie’s been going to go to school early lately so it’s not unusual.

But that pebble feels like a rock when he heads to the kitchen and finds no note on the table.

When Wayne first took in Eddie, who was skittish and mute back then, he started writing notes and leaving them next to Eddie’s plate of breakfast. It was little things like ‘eggs are better runny’ and ‘don’t remember toast being this toasted’. A way to get the boy to slowly open up. Not only it worked, but Eddie soon started writing his own notes, mostly of jokes that always made Wayne laugh heartedly.

Even at seventeen, Eddie never missed a day of breakfast without a note.

Wayne makes himself take a deep breath. There wasn’t any reason to get worried. Eddie might’ve been tired or was in some kind of rush. But even then, he would make doodles to make up a lack of written words.

Just check him at the school. He’ll still be there, even if he’s missing classes.

So Wayne leaves and drives en route to Hawkins High, the secret bane of his existence. (Not that he’ll confess that to Eddie. His nephew already has enough of an ego.)

But as he turns at Cherry, he nearly crashes himself into the trees. Because at the corner, parked hazardously at the side, is Eddie’s van.

Wayne gets out in record time, but forces himself to a slow pace. He hopes that anger wouldn’t be on his face when he finds Eddie on the driver’s seat.

But Eddie isn’t in the driver’s seat. In fact, the door is half open. As if it was meant to close but had no force behind it. The front of the van also looks crushed in.

That pebble or rock in his gut grows bigger and heavier when Wayne spots a red handprint stained on the wheel.

Somewhere further in the woods, the search party calls out Will’s name. Wayne is the only one to call out for another.

—

Earlier

Eddie scowled at his bandaged left wrist. He mentally sent a thousand curses for Luka Belinski to jail for a thousand years. The crime? He showed off how easily he can flip his switch knife without getting cut, creating a jealous curiosity within Eddie to try and do the same action. Now his ability to play another instrument was impaired forever!

Seriously, fuck the clarinet players.

He sighed, starting up his van’s engine. He pulled out of the school parking lot, waving to a few peers as he hit the road. He waited until the school was out of view that he changed the radio to David Bowie.

He was in a bad mood. Sue him. Not that anybody can find out.

As he sang along to “Watch That Man”, he felt his left palm oddly sticky. He lifted it up and saw that some of the blood had dripped out his bandage.

“Shit-” was all he said before something crashed in the front of his van. He swore even more loudly, turning the wheel too quickly and pressing the brakes. He thought he heard a loud wail before the van went off the road and finally stopped.

Eddie shakily got out of the van, nearly falling over. His hand pressed against his chest, feeling his wild heartbeat. Before he could inspect the damage, he heard a pained growl. He whipped around and saw a thing standing up long and tall with a face that opened up like the devil’s Venus Flytrap.

What the fuck?!

He ran into the woods. Yeah, nope nope nope fuck that.

Branches snapped behind him and he felt a clawed hand grabbing the back of his jacket. He fell to the ground, screaming and kicking his legs out as he was dragged. His good hand reached out to the scratch the monster’s arm, but his nails barely dug into the gross skin.

There was a weird swoop of vertigo as if Eddie was thrown up in the air. He remained on the ground though, but not until he was actually thrown across. His back hit against a tree, knocking him out for a second.

When his vision cleared, it was to the horrific closeup of the Venus Flytrap face. Eddie opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out. The monster growled, its weird toothy mouth drooling over him. He shut his eyes, hoping that he would die painlessly and that Wayne wouldn’t find his body.

Then the monster growled again, with some weird fleshy sounds. Eddie dared to peek an eye open. Its face-mouth was shut and it looked around. Then it hopped to all fours and ran off to another direction.

He forced himself to wait for a full minute before he ran again.

There were few things Eddie realized. One: he had no idea where the fuck he was. Two: he had no idea what the fuck was that thing. Three: holy shit monsters were real and he almost died. Four: was it snowing?

He slowed down his run and reached a hand out. A few snowflakes slowly landed on his fingers, but it didn’t melt or felt cold. It wavered around before he blew them off.

He looked around, trying to guess which way was the road, and saw even something more weird. There were vines practically everywhere. The ground was littered with them. They curled around tree trunks and hang off the branches. Eddie was pretty sure that none of that even existed in the Hawkins woods.

Something blurred to his far right and growled. Eddie went back to running.

He looked back to see if that monster was back and fell off a small ledge. He tumbled and rolled with a yelp, feeling one of his ankles spike in pain. He scrambled to get back on his feet and made direct eye contact with Will Byers.

Seeing the kid’s missing posters everywhere had Eddie memorize the face. Bowlcut hair with a dimpled smile and cheerful eyes. But the kid’s eyes were fearful as he hid under a den of twisted roots.

“Uh…” Eddie said because what the fuck, he just found the missing kid.

Another growl, closer this time.

Will’s eyes snapped up, gesturing wildly to Eddie. “Here, here, quick!”

Eddie crawled in record time into the root den, barely fitting next to Will. He clamped a hand over his mouth as the sounds of the monster approached right above them. It made more sniffing and growling sounds, each one sounding closer…

He glanced at Will, who held a small rock in his hand. For a second, Eddie thought if the kid was gonna hit the monster with it. Instead, Will swiftly threw the rock to his left where it landed loudly against the bushes.

The monster roared so loud Eddie thought his ears burst. It scampered off to the rock’s direction and then everything was quiet.

Will poked his head out and nodded, “It’s gone.” Then he looked at Eddie and Eddie looked at Will.

He brought his hand down from his mouth, suddenly feeling lightheaded. “Don’t tell them I listened to Bowie.”

The last thing Eddie saw and heard before fainting was Will tilting his head in confusion and asking, “What?”

— —

tagging these lovely people for their excitement over this silly au: @unclewaynemunson @steves-strapcollection @hellion-child @sidekick-hero @mmmmwaffles94 @demolitionjetstar @hbyrde36

[cafiffle]

ok it's time to be cringe on main (like I ever wasn't)

in honor of the new game finally maybe happening, here is a collection of the Dragon Age OCs I've developed over the last decade or so. only two of them were my actual video game protags and have evolved a lot from there, SEE IF YOU CAN GUESS WHO (or don't, I'm not your dad)

(L to R, top to bottom)

Sina, Keeper's First of Clan Dahlasanor and baby lesbian who had to leave her clan in search of healing for the anime wasting sickness that claimed her life in her early twenties. She was all about that good good Dalish nature magic and thought of it as a sort of healing. A gentle soul with strong convictions, she spent her last months securing the union of her (small, decimated) clan with a larger, thriving one by marrying their male First.

Cade Harimann of Starkhaven, the second son of a noble family who gave him to the Chantry at a young age. He endured Some Bullshit at the monastery, leaving him already somewhat unhinged before he served in Kirkwall prior to the Mage-Templar war. He was kicked out of the Templars "for his own good" due to his massive PTSD-induced emotional problems, and now lives in the woods with his chill elf gf who doms him when he needs it.

Teren von Skraedder*, from a po-dunk town on the border of Nevarra and Orlais, is every bit the Grey Warden stereotype: a liar, a convict, and just generally kind of an asshole. She was recruited in her early 40's as an alternative to being executed for treason against the Nevarran crown, and has settled into Wardening over the last twenty or so years. She loves her younger siblings-in-arms, even if she's mean to them, and she gets a little more deranged every time one of them gets their Calling or dies in combat while she continues to grow older.

Benedict Quintus Artemaeus is an Altus mage from Minrathous who preferred to spend his days getting high and fooling around with other rich boys, shirking his studies and the politics of his Magister mother, nearly into his twenties. He finally had to get serious when his tutor aligned with the Venatori and got them both captured by The Enemy (the canon good guys), leading to a rocky but gradual ascent from hedonistic fuckup to Sort of Competent Guy Who Cares Occasionally. he's been compared to Emperor Kuzco and that's not inaccurate ok

Josephine "Fifi" Mariette* is a regular ol elf from Val Royeaux who, after failing to make it in the city ballet/opera/ye olde whatever, made her way as a cabaret dancer and prostitute until her marriage to a human accountant, Jacques. His family never accepted her, so when he was drafted and killed in the War of the Lions, she left town to briefly join the Freemen of the Dales. Finding that she was as invisible there as anywhere else, she opted to put her status to use and become a spy for (and on) the Good Guys while working as their housekeeper.

Obeisance "Just Barrow Please" Barrow*, a farmer's son from Crestwood, went off to join the Templar Order as a means of finding adventure, leaving home, and making his extremely religious parents happy without having to take over the farm. He served in the Jainen Circle for many years without incident, but very casually deserted when the Mage-Templar war began (hit da bricks, just walk out etc). He spent some time afterward as a mercenary, and his MO is to bop around being helpful where he can while also absolutely never talking about what he used to do. it's none of your business

*if you think you know her/him from somewhere else: you do, I recycle these shitheads constantly

there have been a few more but they didn't Take in the same way, so just these for now. ok byyyeee

[blue--ingenue]

"Evasive Maneuvers" - Part 6

Read the next part

Summary: You've been in love with Sebastian since the moment you knocked him on his arse on your first day. Entering your sixth year, you finally begin working up the courage to confess your feelings when he suddenly becomes the best Beater Hogwarts has seen in decades - and subsequently becomes the school's most eligible bachelor.

Author's Notes: *shakes this chapter like a jar of dog biscuits* besties, i'm so sorry for the little hiatus, but as usually summer college classes were kicking my ass 🫠 my last finals are tomorrow, and then i need to speedrun packing for my dorm etc.... i also really wanted to do this chapter justice, so it was written and rewritten at least five times before i decided on the final draft. anyway, back to our (ir)regularly scheduled Slytherin himbo

The second he loses sight of her in the swarm of students he really starts to panic. He starts pushing his way through the crowd toward the last spot he saw her, but it’s by far easier said than done. Imelda calls out for him to come back for the usual post-game debrief, but he shouts an excuse over his shoulder about going to the hospital wing. She could be anywhere, and he’s wasting precious time. Sebastian doesn’t think he was nearly this panicked when he plummeted toward the ground mere minutes ago. He stops, exasperated, and surveys the crowd. 

Fuck it. 

He hastily mounts his broom and yanks the handle upward. Hard. It’s possibly the fastest he’s ever taken off and the crowd beneath him cheers as he shoots upward and forward. As soon as he clears the quidditch pitch he’s scanning the grounds for a trace of her homemade quidditch jersey. The thought of her putting so much time and effort into the garment, all in support of him, forces a fresh stab of guilt between his ribs. His broom seems to sense his urgency and accelerates on its own. God, he’s such an ass. She’s never been anything short of kind to him, far kinder than he probably deserves, and he’s spent the last few days thinking nothing but the worst of her. No, he realizes with a jolt, not even the worst. 

He’s been seething over the thought of her enjoying Weasley’s company. Merely being happy in his presence. Nothing malicious or untoward or even anything to do with him. Every new realization pricks him with equal measures of mortification and hope. How was he going to explain his recent actions without revealing his true feelings to her? He had no idea. At this point his one-track mind was focussed purely on finding her. He’d figure out the rest once he was sure no more tears adorned her face. Is this the type of bloke he was? So jealous that he’d rather cause pain than face it? He considers asking Anne for advice on the whole situation, but he already knows what his better half would say: “Just tell her how you feel.”

He shakes the thought from his head. Impossible. He couldn’t face the possibility of losing her if she felt the same way. And if she did? What if he wasn’t good enough for her? After all the pain he’d caused her in fifth year, and now this, what if she was better off with someone like Weasley? She deserves someone who will treat her heart with care. Someone who won’t coerce her into risking her life for dark magic. Although Sebastian had been true to his word about relinquishing dark magic, the guilt of his actions remained. Sometimes, on particularly dark nights, he’d wake to the sound of her wails and pleas as her body convulsed next to the remains of Noctua Gaunt, his hand would shake as he channeled the pain directly into her veins. Other nights he’d grip the sheets in a cold sweat, his body safe in bed, but his mind bound to the darkest parts of him he’d worked to repress. He could still feel the phantom rush of power as he held the relic. His blood sang with power as the resurrected dead moved to his every whim. And there, at the center of it all, her. 

Terrified, resolute, courageous. Even as inferi clawed at her arms and Solomon appeared at the mouth of the cave, red with rage, she was still trying to save him. In his darkest of moments he wonders if he’d ever deserved saving at all. If she hadn’t knocked him unconscious, and if Anne’s curse hadn’t lifted as soon as Rookwood was destroyed, Sebastian knew he could’ve done a lot more damage. He knew he didn’t deserve her, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her. And oh, did he want her. She was radiant, inside and out. Even if she wasn’t the most beautiful witch he’d ever beheld, her heart and mind would enchant him all the same. She was always so quick to help others, so fearless in her every endeavor, it was a wonder she had any love left to give. She never failed to surprise him. She made him want to be a better man. She saw every flaw in his character, ran a gentle hand along every faultline in his heart and mended it with a selflessness rarer than the ancient magic gracing her person. 

Sometimes he wanted to grab hold of her, tender yet so very sincere, and remind her that she needed to save herself, too. He wouldn’t insult her intelligence by suggesting that she was ignorant of her own needs. But one time, just one time, he wished she would put her well being above others’. 

There was one question still nagging at the bag of his mind, a thread he had neither the time nor heart to unravel at the time. Why had she been so upset by his kissing Amelia? Was she perhaps still angry at him for ignoring her this morning? Why else would she - 

Oh, hell. 

It was impossible, no more than a pipe dream, but did she share his feelings? Why else would she have run away? He wanted more than anything to believe it, but what if he was wrong? He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. If he confessed his feelings and she didn’t feel the same, he could lose her. But if she did, she could lose herself. He knew from experience that she’d go to hell and back just to fetch him, but she shouldn’t have to. Despite his best efforts he’d found numerous ways to hurt her in the past year. She didn’t deserve him. She deserved better. And if she wouldn’t make that choice herself, well, he’d just have to make it for her. 

Sebastian was so lost in his thoughts he nearly missed the flash of green beneath him. Cursing himself, he circled back to her and flew lower. It was unmistakably her. His last name billowed as she walked quickly toward the castle. He descended rapidly, calling out her name and begging her to wait. She turned and their gazes connected. Even if she was angry with him he felt a glimmer of hope that at least he had a chance to fix things. He was so focussed on her, he didn’t realize he was about to fly right into a tree until she shouted a warning, but it was too late to stop. Branches whipped at his face, stinging as he plowed through the tree before his broom lodged between two trunks and he was thrown forward. He managed to latch onto the branch, narrowly avoiding a swift trip to the ground twenty feet below. For the second time that day the air was forced from his bruised lungs and he fought the urge to vomit. Despite the pain and mortification, Sebastian couldn’t help but feel that this was at least partially deserved. He heard creaking as the branches to his left shifted and he watched his broom plummet to the ground. Well, the handle landed first, and the brush followed a moment later. Great, he thought. Imelda was sure to give him an earful about this. 

A brighter spot of green obscured the remains of his broom, and she looked up at him. He could almost hear a crack shooting through his heart as he took in her appearance. Her tears had smeared the green and silver paint almost completely off her cheeks. Her eyes were red-rimmed and every sniffle sent her shoulders trembling. At this moment he would have let go and fallen to the ground immediately if it meant he could wipe the tears from her face. Did he even deserve to? What right did he have to cause her grief and then swoop in like some undeserving savior?

She wordlessly raised her hands and reached out as though to pluck him from the branches. Blue light arced from her hands as she channeled her ancient magic. Sebastian felt himself being gently extricated from the twigs and leaves before those same gentle blue tendrils lowered him to the grass before her. 

The pair stood still. The intensity of her gaze rivaled his, but neither took a step forward. The air felt heavy with implications, things still left unsaid. Say something! A voice screamed in his head. You made this whole bloody mess, so say something!

He took two steps toward her, and said, “I’m sorry.”

She made no move toward him, and if not for the near-imperceptible softening of her brow he might’ve thought she hadn’t heard him. “For what?”

The determined search of her gaze told him everything. They both knew what she was really asking. She was waiting for him to voice his feelings. To lay claim to every bit of stolen affection threaded through the moments they shared. He had to tell her. He needed to tell her, she deserved that much. He opened his mouth to speak and - 

“I like you!” he shouted. She startled at his panicked outburst and he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. She looked at him, calculating and wary, before taking a step back. “Sebastian, you don’t have to say that simply because you feel guilty about-” he gave a frustrated groan and closed the distance between them in two determined strides. He frantically took her hands in his, held them gently, and whispered the truth he’d been so desperate to hide from. 

“That isn’t why. Please, you must know that isn’t why,” he pleaded. A stray tear remained on the apple of her cheek and he brushed it away with a tender swipe of his hand. He let his touch linger for a moment before drifting back to clasp her hands. “You occupy my every waking moment. Even in sleep I cannot escape the thought of you. Nor would I ever want to,” he declared. Her eyes searched for any hint of insincerity, but she didn’t pull away from him. Sebastian took that as a sign of encouragement and continued.  

“You are unlike any witch or wizard I have ever met. Kinder and braver than any soul I’ll ever meet, and my heart is irrevocably yours. You needn’t say anything, but know that it belongs to you. I’ve been a prick to you. I was selfish and scared and jealous, and I’m sorry for kissing Amelia. I won’t insult you by asking for forgiveness I know I don’t deserve, but you must know that I am yours, even if you want nothing to do with me.“

He finishes, breathless, and watches her. His brain is on fire and he’s pretty sure he’s run through the entire spectrum of human emotion in the last thirty seconds, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give her time to process everything he’s just thrown at her. He waits, and waits, and his palms begin to sweat. Shit. Was this the wrong time? Had he just royally fucked up whatever remained of their friendship? His gaze flicked up to her face, which had remained stoic beneath her runny makeup and the volley of emotion he had just flung at her. An agonizingly slow moment later she looked at him, really looked, as though for the first time, and she was livid.

There was fire in her eyes and blue magic arced from her fingertips. He took an instinctive step back as she leveled him with a stare rivaling the intensity of his own jackrabbiting heart. She swallowed thickly, and spoke.

“And how long,” she started, cocking her head. “How long have you felt this way?” He gulped. Was she going to hex him? Sebastian was sure he deserved it six ways to Sunday, but he would’ve at least liked more of a reaction to his confession before she blasted him to hell. 

“Since fifth year?” he squeaked. He actually squeaked. Good gods, this was mortifying. He thanked whoever was listening that at the very least Ominis wasn’t here to witness the whole ordeal. He answered like it was a question, when really this one of the only truths he knew in the core of his being to be true.

She took a step toward him, her mouth agape and eyes narrowed in confusion. Hysterically, he thought it was the same look she adopted when Professor Binns roused her from her nap to answer a question during lecture. He gulped. 

“Why on earth haven’t you said anything?!” she shrieked. He furrowed his brows and took a step closer to her. If she was going to immolate him, fine. For her he’d burn a thousand times. 

“Because I know you don’t feel the same!” He shouted frantically. “You don’t! You can’t, and you shouldn’t! I’ve been awful to you, and you deserve better!”

She held her face in her hands, exasperated and inhaling deeply, before throwing her hands up and shouting to the heavens, “Of course I feel the same!” She cried. “Merlin’s bloody balls, how thick can you get?!”

He stilled. He’s pretty sure his heart had stopped beating around the same time the air in his lungs froze over. “What?”

At his single syllable all the anger seemed to seep from her figure. She crossed her arms, the blue lightning dissipating as her chest heaved. When she spoke she was gentle, careful.

“Sebastian, did you truly not know?” Her eyes were pleading, searching his for answers he wasn’t sure he could provide.

He spluttered. She couldn’t feel the same. She didn’t…”You’ve never given any inclination. And I didn’t want to do anything untoward or unwanted…” he trailed off.

She laughed. Not a cruel, mocking sound like he probably deserved, but chiding. It wasn’t unlike the chuckles he heard from her when one of her puffskeins tried licking her when she wasn’t looking. 

“Sebastian bloody Sallow, I’ve been in love with you from the start. I don’t know how you could possibly think I don’t care for you, but please, banish the thought.” She declared softly. He suddenly realized how close they’d drifted. The red thread connecting his heart to hers always had a way of drawing them together. He looked down and she was nearly flush against his chest. Instinctively he drew his arms around her. Something sharp poked his chest and he brushed it aside. It was the necklace he’d given her. Within the gilded confines the stone glowed a deep, confident blue. A memory sparked somewhere in the back of his mind as he recalled the parchment the vendor had given him. Blue - truth.

He dropped the pendant as though it had burned him. She was telling the truth. She loved him, truly and completely, and he loved her the same. Everything he wanted was within his grasp, if only…If only he were someone more deserving. If only he were someone who could keep her safe and care for her in the ways she deserved. He looked down and her eyes were drifting closed. Just before they fluttered shut her gaze flickered to his lips. That’s funny, when had he started dipping his head toward her? His composure faltered - and good gods, no man could be strong enough for such temptation-

But he needed to be. Sebastian Sallow might not be the man she deserves, but he would be a man strong enough to keep her from making the mistake of choosing him. His eyes shot open and he pressed a gently finger to her lips. “Wait,” he whispered. She stilled and stopped. Gods, her lips were soft beneath his touch. And the way she was looking at him, with such open vulnerability, twisted the dagger he held to his own heart. She was confused, waiting for him to say something.

He released her and took a step back. And then another, and another. “We can’t. You can’t feel this way for me. I’ll only hurt you again, and you deserve better.” He broke her gaze hung his head. “So much better…”

When he looked up at her again, he almost wished he hadn’t. The tears were back, and this time her lip was trembling. He strode toward her, holding out his arms in comfort, but she held up a hand. It was trembling, and blue lightning crackled across her palm, but her voice was steady as she spoke. 

“Nobody makes my decisions for me. Nobody. You can tell me that you love me, or hate me, or anything in between. But you don’t get to stand there and tell me how I am meant to feel. If you don’t want me, then just say so. I deserve that much.”

Sebastian was truly and utterly speechless. He did want her, more than anything, but he couldn’t trust himself to keep her from harm on his behalf. He couldn’t draw her back into his arms knowing that he didn’t deserve her, but telling her that he didn’t want her? That would surely kill him. So he stood, silent, and said nothing at all.

As the seconds drew on, she seemed to take his lack of response as an answer all the same. She nodded her head once before stalking past him back to the castle, and he got one good look at the pendant as her shoulders shook with sobs. Black - anguish.

.

.

.

.

.

Bonus Author's Note: besties, no matter how much you love someone, never let anyone make your decisions for you or tell you how you feel. you are irreplacable and nobody has the right to save you for later <3

Taglist: @snickette, @findingtruenorth23, @plooloo, @paganicher, @smilesworldsposts, @snoozebun, @crazyllamasurfer, @pixie-dustss, @margottheviking, @lollife1617, @milk-barrs-blog, @somethingiswrongwithme, @bleh-stupid, @stay-gray, @mrsbrookesallow, @lostgirl-28, @kateisnotheree, @doigettokeepyou, @dreamqueenkala, @uwuitzerimpact, @neoqueen306

[tj-dragonblade]

[FIC] On the Edge of a Waking Dream

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling (Hob x Dream) Rated: M Word Count: 3914 Tags: MonsterFucktoberBingo 2023, Dreamling Nation House of Horrors 2023, human Dream, ghost Hob, modern day setting, main character death, technically, is Hob a main character, the prompt is ghost so not DEAD-dead regardless, ghost character, ghost sex, sex toys, anal sex, suicidal ideation, unconventional happily-ever-after, these tags are a very mixed bag, angst in my lighthearted ghost story?, it's more likely than you think, brief appearance by Daniel Hall, brief appearance by Merv

Additional Warning: There is a conversation toward the end that dips into the subject of suicidal ideation. If you need to avoid it, it's the section that begins "Would that I could stay here forever, with you" - skip that whole section and you'll be good.

Notes: Title taken from I'll Be There, by Escape Club, 1991. This song has been on my Ficcable Songs list for more than two decades and finally I've done something with it. I'm…eugh. I think this would be better served as a longfic, but I'm. Not doing that. I'm happier with this now than I was with the initial draft, and that's good enough.

This covers Smoctober Day 9 prompt 'ghost', the Monsterfucktober square for 'ghost', and the Dreamling Nation House of Horrors prompt 'ghost'

Summary: Dream never believed in ghosts until his boyfriend became one

On AO3

~~~ Dream never believed in ghosts.

But then, his boyfriend became one.

Hob, his brash and boastful beautiful Hob, who'd talked of marriage once they were done with university, who'd laughed at the notion of dying and proudly declared he'd live forever. Hob, who had sworn to never leave him, had promised to be there for him always.

The universe had other ideas, unfortunately, but Hob was nothing if not adaptable.

~~~ Dream turned the key in the lock of their shared flat—just his flat, now, he supposed—numb and empty inside after the funeral. Debating the merits of crying in the shower vs going straight to bed (not their bed, not anymore) and crying himself to sleep, he pushed open the door.

The lights flicked on all by themselves.

All of the lights, in every room of the flat.

Which was disconcerting, but he was tired, and emotionally drained, and made a mental note to check with the property manager about the wiring just in case.

The electric teakettle clicked on when he entered the kitchen; convenient, as he had intended a cup of chamomile before trying to sleep, but he added the oddity to his mental note for tomorrow. Tea in hand, he leaned against the counter, gathering the static in his mind to keep from focusing with any clarity on the loss clawing his insides hollow.

When his laptop on the corner desk powered itself on, he nearly dropped his tea. With mounting apprehension he watched as the computer logged him in and…opened Spotify? Then the music started, an old song he knew well, and the apprehension turned to disbelief.

Don't be afraid, oh my love I'll be watching you from above And I'd give all the world tonight, To be with you

"This is absolutely my song," Hob had said once when it came on. "Guy loved his partner so much he refused to go when death came for him? That'd be me."

"I thought you planned to live forever?" Dream had teased, gently, and Hob had grinned.

"Well yeah, that is the plan. But if it turns out I can't, then…sticking around as a ghost, that's my contingency plan." His smile had turned warm, tender, and he'd brushed a knuckle down the side of Dream's face. "I've got to see you're getting on okay if I'm gone, haven't I?"

Because I'm on your side, And I still care I may have died, But I've gone nowhere Just think of me, And I'll be there

"Hob," Dream whispered, tears welling, something like hope sticking in his throat, and the lamp on the desk flickered. "Is that you?"

The lamp blinked out and back on, twice, and Dream let out a sob. 'Twice' had always been their non-verbal and discretionary code for affirmation, blinking or shoulder taps or hand squeezing, and the warm sense of relief that poured over Dream at this confirmation was overwhelming. "Hob…how is this possible? Am I losing my grip on reality?"

The wireless mouse moved, waggled side to side in a clear imitation of shaking one's head 'no'.

"How is this possible," Dream murmured again, turning over and over the idea that ghosts could be real, that Hob could be one. "You died; I buried you. How can you be here?"

The mouse moved in a slow deliberate arc, sketching the shape of a heart.

Oh, there's no need to cry Just think of me, And I'll be there

Dream's throat closed up and he let out a sound half-laugh, half-sob as the song soared into its final chorus.

The mouse scooted across the desk, nudged the box of tissues closer.

Hob had so often talked about taking care of him; Hob had promised to never leave him.

Hob had, apparently, refused to go when Death came for him. "You were always a man of your word," Dream murmured, sniffling through a smile, and the light in the kitchen flickered happily.

~~~ Living with a ghost was surprisingly easy to adjust to, once he accepted the reality of it. He always had someone to talk to, and they quickly discovered that the notes app on his phone, or his computer, was a viable conduit for Hob to talk back when he felt like it. Dream's earbuds were always charged, his music library always managed to pull up exactly the right song for his mood, he never had to worry about whether he'd left the lights or the stove on and, annoyingly, his phone and computer always turned off at exactly the hour Hob had insisted on for a decent sleep schedule. But in all honesty, healthier sleep habits were a fair price to pay for having Hob back in some form when Dream had thought him lost.

Hob looked after him, made sure he kept living and thriving, and Dream threw himself into researching ghosts and spirits and how to attune oneself to them. Herbs and alignments and meditative practices, Dream tried them all and little by little, the more he learned, the more he began to feel the physical presence of Hob in their flat. A breath, a scent, a diffuse sense of warmth and calm, an overall impression that this was home and Hob was here.

~~~ "What was it like, dying?" he asked one day, during a lull in his research. He minimized the webpage and brought up the notes app. "If you don't mind talking about it, that is." He trusted Hob to tell him otherwise; communicating and respecting boundaries had always been easy between them. The cursor started moving a couple seconds later.

It would be impossible to discuss the subject without a common frame of reference.

Dream burst out laughing at that, the terrible hiccuping bray that Hob had adored, and a little old-school smiley emote appeared on the screen. But before Dream could draw breath to quote the next line back to Hob (You mean I have to die to discuss your insights on death??), the cursor was moving again.

Kidding. Not much to tell. Was a lady there, kind face, beautiful wings. Held out her hand, and I knew if I took it I'd never see you again. So I refused.

"And you were permitted to just…say no?"

Lady gave me a sad smile, said I couldn't go back; told her I couldn't go forward, either, not if it meant leaving you. When I promised I would never.

Dream could feel his eyes welling up and blinked, swallowed the lump in his throat.

She let me stay in between. Not perfect, but I don't have to leave. Can't leave you.

"I love you," Dream said, voice wavering. "I love you, Hob, I miss you but I'm so glad I still have you—" A little sob escaped, his eyes spilling over.

Death cannot stop true love, Hob typed then, in swooping pink script on the screen, and Dream could only smile through his tears as he answered.

"All it can do is delay it for a little while."

~~~ Dream kept seeking knowledge and Hob kept developing proficiency in being a ghost, more practice in interacting with the world and making himself known; soon enough Dream could genuinely feel Hob there, physically—a wisp of air against his skin, the phantom brush of lips to his temple, a full-body shiver of warmth when drifting off to sleep. He'd feel Hob like an embrace from behind while fixing his breakfast, while practicing his cello, while showering. Sometimes he would touch himself under the spray, stroke it to hardness and feel, unmistakably, the wispy grip of Hob's hand over his, the faint nudge of a phantom prick against his arse, an invisible mouth laving kisses to the back of his neck.

"You can manipulate any electronics, right?" he asked one evening, and when the lamp on his bedside table dimmed and brightened twice in the affirmative, he undressed and brought out the vibrator he had purchased the day before, knelt over on the bed, pressed the toy into his slick and opened body. "Then please, Hob—be with me, like this, have me, I still want—"

The toy jumped to life with a buzz and Dream gasped, shifted, rocked his hips as Hob cycled through every power setting and vibration pattern until he found the combination that made Dream shiver and squirm and grasp helplessly at the bedsheets, surrounded by the not-quite-there feeling of Hob draped over him, fingers twined with his, lips soft at the back of his neck as he surrendered to the onslaught of sensation.

He drifted off to sleep afterward with a soft smile on his face, the feel of Hob's arms around him and Hob murmuring "G'night, dove, I'll keep you safe" in his ear.

When he woke, the whisper of revelation was stirring at the back of his mind but it didn't click until he heard a soft "Good morning, beautiful" in Hob's dear voice and sat bolt upright, duly stunned.

"Hob! You can talk!?"

Nothing, for an instant, and then, still soft: "Dream? Can you…you can hear me now?"

"Yes!" he cried, overjoyed, and let the tears stream down his face as he heard Hob's happy laughter surrounding him, disembodied but bright and brilliant, for the first time in months.

~~~ Together they continued their studies, carefully experimenting with ways to thin the veil between worlds safely and securely. Hob's physical presence got stronger, more tangible as the days passed. His touch was never cold like so many sources claimed; it was warm, like lifting one's face to the morning sun in the first days of Spring, like the comfort of snuggling into the blankets on a winter evening.

Nothing about his Hob could ever be cold.

All his studies indicated that a ghost attaining visibility took time, and strength of will from the spirit, and 'openness' on the part of the living—which Dream had interpreted as willingness to believe that one might see a ghost. He did believe, wholeheartedly, knew without a doubt that Hob was still here with him and would eventually be ghost enough to manifest visibly.

It happened one night when Dream was drifting between awake and asleep; there, in that liminal state, he caught a glimpse of Hob for just an instant. It stole his breath, the sight of Hob before him again after all this time; Hob smiled at him, blindingly beautiful, and then he faded out and Dream woke, eyes wet, his own smile soft on his face.

"Hob?" he called, barely more than a murmur, and immediately the warm comfort of Hob's arms around him took hold.

"'M here," came Hob's disembodied voice, close to his ear. "Did you see me there, in between?"

"Yes," Dream breathed, emotion swelling within him. "You were. So beautiful. How I've missed the sight of you, Hob—" He turned, wanting to burrow into the warmth of Hob beside him, knowing there was nothing really there enough to accommodate his want.

"Sweet talker," Hob said, and then there were soft insubstantial lips touching his and Dream sighed into the phantom kiss, arching, reaching. Invisible fingertips traced his jaw, touched his throat, trailed down and brushed a nipple and Dream let a needy sound spill from him.

"Hob," he pleaded, keyed up, wanting, and felt more than heard the way Hob hummed in reply. And then the suggestion of a leg was pushed between his, urging him over onto his back and hands were stroking feather-light down his sides, a ghostly mouth moving beneath his ear. Dream whimpered, kicked free of the bedclothes, hooked his thumbs in his pajama bottoms and wriggled fluidly to get them down and off, laid back and spread his limbs and gave himself over to the slow sensual stoking of his pleasure.

Hob took his time as much by design as necessity, needing focus and intent to manage physical touch but also clearly delighting in the leisurely build of driving Dream higher and higher. He was skilled at it, also, had Dream trembling and moaning long before his ghostly tongue touched Dream's prick. It was hard, leaking, and Dream rocked into the wispy sensation of Hob's mouth around him, Hob's hands caressing the insides of his thighs, Hob's fingertips tracing intimately along the creases of his body.

Hob's touch was exquisite, erotic, and Dream was certain that with hours to enjoy it he would surely reach climax, but neither of them had that sort of patience just now. "Get the vibe, sweetheart," Hob said at last, and Dream scrambled to comply, retrieving it from the bedside drawer. "Open yourself up for me, need to watch you come undone—"

Breathless, Dream lubed the toy and pushed it in, bore down and gripped it tightly in anticipation, knees raised, waiting for Hob—

The toy turned on and Dream's head lashed back as sudden pleasure poured through him. "There you are," he vaguely heard Hob murmur, "my darling beautiful Dream—"

One day, Dream vowed, shaking as Hob cycled the toy into the perfect pulsing intensity that made him writhe and wail, one day, he would come from Hob's ghostly touch alone.

~~~ They met in waking dreams again, and again, each meeting strengthening their connection, anchoring them securely to one another across the veil. "Oh, my love, my precious dove," Hob murmured, when they managed to hold onto one another for more than a second, and then Hob's mouth was pressed against his, opening, warm—

He woke to the feel of Hob kissing him still, only less substantial, but as he opened his eyes, he caught a soft glimmer of Hob's face above him, hazy, barely there, and his heart skipped a beat.

"I can see you," he murmured against phantom lips, not daring to blink, breath held—but Hob drew back in surprise, in excitement, and his faint image flickered out. Dream sighed and let his eyes fall closed once more. "We'll keep trying. Come kiss me again?"

~~~ "Would that I could stay here forever, with you," Dream lamented, drifting on the edge of waking up, curled into Hob's embrace.

He felt the way that Hob went still and tense.

"You seem the most real here," he explained, "and I am. So tired, of not being able to properly touch you. Except here."

"I'm getting better at being substantial out there," Hob said, a very careful edge in his voice. "Be patient, dove, we'll get there."

"Or I could simply sleep forever, and never be without you again."

"You aren't without me now. I'm not going anywhere, Dream. You have me. Forever. What you're talking about is—" Hob stopped abruptly, unwilling to voice the thought.

"I know." Dream couldn't bring himself to look Hob in the eye, mumbled into the familiar comfort of Hob's hairy chest instead. "I wonder, sometimes, if…it might be worth it."

Hob vanished, and it was a sharp enough jolt that Dream woke completely.

Every light in the flat was flickering madly as Dream stumbled ouf of the bedroom; the smoke and CO detectors were screeching their alarm, his laptop sounding some kind of alert and the air conditioning unit in the window powering off and on repeatedly.

"Hob!" Dream tried to raise his voice above the din. "Hob, stop!"

The teakettle started up a sustained whistle and then Spotify kicked in with some metal band he couldn't immediately name, thrashing guitars and guttural screaming vocals, and Dream had to cover his ears. "Hob! HOB!"

It was another full minute of this cacophony, and then abruptly everything stopped. Plunged back into grey morning dimness and silence, Dream took a steadying breath, two.

"…Hob?" His voice, when it came, was small and tentative.

The kitchen light flickered sullenly, twice.

"Hob. I don't…I'm not—" He floundered; the words weren't coming.

"C'mere." He felt the swoop of Hob rushing past him, and followed him back to the bedroom. "C'mere," Hob repeated, from the bed, and Dream crawled up to sit against the headboard. The faint sense of Hob's arm settled around his shoulders and Dream felt the inevitable tears welling up.

"Sorry for throwing a tantrum," Hob's voice said, low and soft with sincerity. "It's just. You scared me. What you said." Dream felt lips brush his hair, holding there in a desperate approximation of a kiss.

"I know." Dream blinked, and the tears spilled over. "I don't mean it, but…"

"But it's crossed your mind."

Dream wiped his eyes. "Yes."

"I stayed to see you live your life, not to take it away from you." Hob's voice was shaky now, as if he was also crying—could ghosts cry?—and Dream could feel Hob's other arm across his chest, Hob holding him close, clinging to him. "Dream—I love you, I love you so much. And you have everything ahead of you. Please, please don't start thinking you're better off giving it all up. We don't even know if you'd wind up same as me—"

Dream closed his eyes, breathed slow and even. It was not that he wished, particularly, to die; it was simply that he wished to be with Hob more than he wanted anything else.

Except, perhaps, to not bring Hob pain or distress.

"I…am an amateur, at these occult studies," Dream said at last, eyes still closed. "It will take a lifetime of research and learning to ensure that I can share in your afterlife, that I will not leave you behind. I will need to live a very long life, to be. Certain."

"…Yes," came Hob's voice, steadier now but still with a trembling edge of wariness underneath. "Yes. You will."

"And I will need your help. To research, but also to remind me to eat, to buy groceries, to go to bed on time."

"Of course. You'll have it, anything and everything I can do to help. Promise me you won't give up."

"Hob," Dream breathed, because he had opened his eyes, and Hob was glimmering faintly there beside him—visible, if only just. "Hob—"

"Promise," Hob interrupted, lifting his head to look Dream in the eye, and Dream could see the exact second when he realized Dream was not looking through him, but at him.

"I will live to be ninety, I promise," he said, a little bit breathless, a little wrung out, very much elated. "Hob, I can see you—"

The smile on Hob's face, the way he glowed with joy, pushed every other thought from Dream's head, and when Hob leaned in for an ecstatic-if-still-a-touch-watery kiss, Dream's heart soared at how easily they connected.

~~~ Hob's visual manifestation in the waking world grew more and more frequent as the days went on, steadier, more solid in appearance. Strong emotion, they confirmed, was an excellent catalyst and soon enough he could maintain a weak-but-persistent shade, always a bit more distinct from the corner of Dream's eye than straight on. The more he practiced the better he got, at being both visually and tangibly solid, holding his presence, managing touch. Dream never minded that he always remained a bit transparent; he was there, still here, still with Dream, to whom he had promised forever.

~~~ "Still mine?" Hob asked many years later, float-lying half on top of him in bed, idly combing through the emerging greys of his hair, and Dream smiled.

"I can't imagine ever being anyone else's," he breathed, lifting a hand to touch Hob's face. He still had to be careful, to focus; it was all too easy for his hand to go right through Hob which was disconcerting for them both. But he was very good at it by now, and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind Hob's ear tenderly. "I don't want to be anyone else's."

"You don't have to be," Hob promised, drifting up to look down into his eyes. "I'm here, I'm yours, forever, as long as you'll have me."

"Forever," Dream echoed, smiling with the joy of it, and drew Hob down for a delicate heartfelt kiss.

~~~ "Sorry, kid, ain't got no vacancies."

Daniel's shoulders slumped, disappointed. The White Horse building was perfectly situated for getting to campus and he'd been told there was always at least one flat open, but apparently he was given incorrect information.

"Unless…" The guy in the property office tilted his head back, scratched under his scruffy chin, cigar caught between his teeth. "I mean, there is the haunted unit, 'salways empty…"

Daniel perked up. "Haunted unit?" He'd been drawn to the unusual all his life, fascinated by the paranormal, intrigued by the macabre. If this was true—

"Yeah." The guy slanted a look at him. "Last tenant—last tenant who stayed more'n a couple'a weeks, at least—was this old guy, lived there for decades. Him'n his boyfriend, they moved in when they were young but then the boyfriend died, an' the other guy just stayed the rest of his life, alone. Was a hundred n' five when he finally passed, and that was back in '89. Flat's been empty ever since. Folk'll move in, but it don't take long 'til they're backin' out on the lease. Lights won't work right, electronics're unpredictable, weird moanin' and screamin' noises in the walls, some even talk about apparitions they can't ever see straight-on but're always in the corner of the eye, in the shadows. Me, I don' believe'n none of it, never seen nor heard anything'f the sort, but regardless I can't keep anybody in there—"

"I'll take it," Daniel interrupted, excitement bubbling up in his stomach. A haunted flat? Could he be any luckier? "That is—if I may?"

"Look, kid, you wanna give it a shot? Go for it. Come on in, I'll draw up the paperwork. 'F you stay, I'll give ya a super steep discount—any rent comin' in's better'n none, heh!" He turned and stumped back into his office, still cackling and muttering; Daniel followed, mind racing.

If there was a ghost, a real ghost, it was probaby the boyfriend, who'd maybe been there all along and now didn't want anyone living in his and his lover's space. And Daniel was no true medium, but he'd grown up learning all kinds of 'alternative science' stuff from his mom's friends, so maybe he'd have a decent chance of communicating with the ghost, helping it find peace and move on.

He was half right. It was the boyfriend, but it was also the old man. Whose ghost was that of his younger self—and yes, Daniel was able to talk to them. Also, they had absolutely no intention of moving on. They were lovely, actually, had no problem with Daniel living there once they got to know him, willingly worked out a sort of 'roommate agreement' with him. Merv down in the property office made good on his promise of cheap rent, and Daniel's ghosts were always making sure the flat was in order, bills tracked and paid, cupboards stocked and groceries delivered, homework reminders set where he needed them and homework assistance given when asked. It was like…like having two dads, when he'd grown up without, and Daniel was hard-pressed to imagine how his life could possibly be better.

(He could do without the occasional auditory glimpse into their love life, but…well. Most of the time they were very good about not leaking across the veil in intimate moments, and ultimately who was he to begrudge them their eternal happiness?)

=== Started: 10/9/23 Drafted: 10/10/23 Additional Drafting: 10/27/23 Posted: 10/28/23

I have not read any of Daniel's canon material; my apologies if his voice sounds terribly wrong. Cookies for anyone who recognizes the movie quotes Hob used ❤️

[velvet-games]

I wrote a random draft for a radiostatic ficlet on the car a couple days ago; still having problems with it but might publish to ao3 if it gets better.

for context, this is part of the same universe as favorite/most of my art. vox leaves the vees and is working at the hotel now; he and alastor have repaired their friendship at this point and are hurtling toward that liminal queerplatonic "what are we" stage.

“Oh, this hotel venture truly has been an inspiration, hasn’t it, Vox?” Alastor twirled around Vox’s office, nearly smashing his screen in with the microphone several times. “Romance, betrayal, existential revelations about the ontology of the universe; it has everything!”

“You say that like you’re not part of the romance, betrayal, and existential revelations about the ontology of the universe,” Vox said, narrowly missing another hit. 

“Oh, I don’t mind being a part of the show! I play the best character after all, haha!” Alastor finally set the microphone down, much to Vox’s relief. “I’ve never felt the rivers of creative ambrosia flow through my veins quite the way they do now! Every broadcast has been a hit!” Raucous applause permeated the air, occasional whoops breaking through. He gave one more twirl and a bow that almost caused him to topple over. Vox smiled faintly. Silly, he thought.

“Glad you’re having fun, buddy; now can I get back to work?” Vox sighed, feeling a little sick. He sat heavily in his chair before turning toward the wall of screens currently dotted with shining logos and random livestreams. 

The applause cut off abruptly. “Hm? Why, friend, you look even bluer than usual,” he said. “Say, why don’t you start drawing again? That used to cheer you right up. It’ll be just like old times! Me, inspired to orchestrate the best broadcasts Hell has ever seen; you, with your mediocre pictures that made you ever so happy for some inexplicable reason!”

Vox froze. “I … can’t.”

“Sure you can; why not?” Alastor replied steadily. “You used to do it all the time.”

Vox looked up, shoulders tense. “Alastor, that was decades ago.” His voice was quiet and monotone, like it was trying to avoid any spots that may contain emotions.

“You started tinkering again.”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

“It just is.”

The static in Alastor’s voice dimmed, and he pulled out a pen. “Just try.”

Vox stared at it blankly. “... What if I can’t do it anymore? What if I’m bad at it?” Alastor had to lean in to hear him.

“Then be bad at it.”

“You literally make fun of me for being bad at things all the time. You called my ‘pictures’ mediocre 30 seconds ago.”

“Is your ego really so fragile?" Alastor sighed. "I won’t make fun of you this time.”

“Why not?”

“This is different.”

“How so?”

“It just is.”

Vox shook his head, voice finally cracking and filling with static. “It’s gone, I can’t … it’s not – I’ll just know that I failed. That I let myself lose it.”

Vox tried to turn away, but Alastor gripped the sides of his screen and pulled his face close. “Or you could find it again. You could find that part of yourself and the world and remember what it feels like to be alive. You’ll be alive, even here. How will you know if you don’t put pen to paper?” Alastor’s eyes shone. “I’ll do it with you.”

Vox laughed abruptly, voice wet. “You suck at drawing. And you hate being bad at things.”

“I was terrible at everything before I was good at them,” Alastor said. “I’ll be bad at things for you. We can be bad at it together. We can love it together.”

Vox’s face wobbled a bit. He took the pen. “Okay.”

****

The first few sketches sucked ass. After that, it was like Vox had never stopped. 

Alastor looked up from his shaky doodles of Niffty and a woman with a scar on her cheek. “You’re only drawing me.”

Vox felt his screen heat up. “I like drawing you.”

“Of course; I’m a lovely muse. But you should check if anything else is interesting.”

Sharks were pretty interesting. But after filling a page with hammerheads and a Blahaj plush, Vox went right back to Alastor: those big doe eyes, the curve of his slightly upturned nose, the curl that always covered his cheek …

Alastor glanced over again, but he only smiled softly this time. His doodles were starting to include a little box with antennae and shark teeth. 

****

“FUCK!” Vox yelled from the other room. 

“What is it, darling?” Alastor called. He set his book on the coffee table. 

Vox stomped into the lobby with a rolled up sleeve and the biggest frown Alastor had ever seen. “I think I gave myself carpal tunnel. Some-fucking-how.”

Alastor blinked. “You’ve been drawing in your room for at least four hours a day every day for the last three months. You’re also never fully charged because you refuse to let that interfere with your sixteen-hour work days. You really didn’t expect sickness or injury?”

“I–” Vox looked genuinely indignant for a moment before his eyes went unfocused, probably checking the footage of himself drawing he had stored. “O-Oh. But I meant, like, I forgot this body even had a median nerve that could get fucked up.” Alastor shrugged, and Vox flopped unceremoniously onto the couch. “What now?”

“Well, I’m afraid there is more to life than drawing. You should join my broadcast tonight; we can discuss your woes in detail.”

“Ugh, shut up. You’re just as grumpy when your voice gives out and you have to pretend you have a super important emergency errand instead of admitting you sound like you’ve been smoking since age five.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

Vox frowned again. “Mmmmgghhhhhhhhfine. But you’re learning to paint next time you lose your voice.” 

The broadcast went well that night. 

-----

oh, the woes of loving something and getting really good at it and other people expecting you to be good at it and then getting distracted by other things and losing that skill and feeling like you've missed out on your potential but also thinking about it puts a pit in your stomach because every day you wait to start doing it again the more your skill deteriorates and maybe it's not worth it to start again at all but you miss it so much and it used to be a part of you and maybe now you're missing a part of yourself--

anyway. I think my biggest worry rn is about the pacing + vox/alastor's voice. I keep forgetting what vox's voice sounds like, and I kept imagining alastor's pilot voice, which is maybe a little too unhinged for this fic lol.

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

"If the freshmen can handle learning it- surely Swift could also be able to learn and improve the thing she does as a job? Right? No?"

Yup!!!! That perfectly sums up the past 15 years!

It's so mind boggling to me that her work is still so juvenile and disjointed after years of being spoon fed every resource she could possibly need. Her learning curve is a flat line despite everybody and their mother trying to prop it up, goddamn.

Yes exactly! - This is something I find particularly interesting about Taylor Swift.

How is it possible that nearly twenty years into her career there is no marked improvement in her writing style?

She has had every possible resource on Earth available to her- and yet she does not bother to learn anything.

I really believe that she thinks herself infallible- and therefore in no need of a teacher. I mean- let's be honest, she thinks herself so amazing that people should pay her money just to hear her first drafts and voice memo notes on songs. Everything she touches turns to gold- apparently.

It's plain arrogance to my mind. As I have had nearly a decade worth of college education under my belt, I have been working in my field for years now; however, I live always with the implicit understanding that I am yet at the base of a mountain.

Every book I read- Every new thing I learn, and I am struck again and again that, as a scholar, I am a mere student struggling up the mountain of knowledge from those who lived and died before I ever was a breath of life.

The more knowledgeable I become the more aware I am of how much I have yet to learn.

Why is this not the case with Taylor Swift? I blame arrogance- self-righteous assurance that you are the best of the best will only ever lead people to believe they have nothing to learn from others- and they no longer need to have the self-discipline to continue evolving their craft.

If you really think about it, most of the people who are told that they are a young prodigy suffer this particular delusion. Then they wonder why they never improve, and feel like they are stuck in immaturity, while others- who have had to work harder for the same level of adulation always seem to continue to grow, evolve, and become better.

It's sad- in a way.

[wienerlicious]

you know that scene in iron man where tony’s taking the mark ii armor out for the first time, just flying?  giant smile across his face, laughing with joy, just enjoying life???

i want him to feel like that again. 

frequently, please.

[miscfandomwrites]

A/N: This is a short drabble I had hidden in my drafts, I believe this is a start to my 'Volchista' series which is something that's been thought about for a couple years, but I think for now I just want a cowgirl who falls in love with another gal...or two. ;) Oh, btw, I make all of my headers by myself. Please don't steal them from me, they take a lot of work.

Pairing: Cowgirl! Reader x Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: None / Reader has an aversion to alcohol

Words: 935

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

~

"I think it's time to retire 76, she keeps going lame, and I doubt she'll survive another calf season" I told Clint as I headed to the kitchen to wash up for dinner. 

"You know what's best for the animals, if that's what you think needs to be done, take care of it." He replied beside me, cutting up some tomatoes for the burgers.

"How come you let her make all the decisions?" Tony asked him, leaning back in his chair, sipping on a glass of what I could only assume was either whiskey or bourbon. 

"She lived in Montana, and has spent, what..three decades ranching?" A slightly confused look on his face as Clint faced me, leaning back against the counter. 

"Four, but yeah, I have experience and background" 

"So what's going to happen to 76 then? You'll kill her?" Spoke the dark redhead, judging by the length of her hair, that would be Wanda Maximoff.

"I have a friend who will euthanize her out in the field, but until then I will make sure she is as comfortable as possible. I believe that an animal should live its best life, and be as healthy as can be, but if repeating issues occur or the way of life for the animal is made to where it would be unethical to keep alive, then in that case there is necessity for euthanization.” 

“So just because she’s old and can’t have a baby, you’re going to kill her?” 

“The average lifespan of a cow is twenty years. 76 is twenty-two years old, the last calf she had nearly killed her, and the last three calves haven’t survived birth or gestation.” 

“So she’s old, so she’s going to die?”

“No, it would be mean to keep her alive because she would keep getting sick and when she doesn’t feel good it’s not good for her, (Y/N) just wants the animals to be happy.” a small voice piped up, coming from Clint’s oldest, Abigail. 

I nodded at her as she glared, or as much as an eight year old could glare, at the billionaire.

“How old are you?” 

I shrugged, and started to help Lauren bring the dishes to the table, ignoring his question. 

~

“Want a beer?” Steve asked, holding out an unopened bottle to me.

I saw both Clint and Lauren open their mouths, but before they could said anything, I settled my face with a neutral expression and told him bluntly. “I don’t drink.” before walking past him to grab a soda out of the fridge. 

I grabbed one of the glass cokes that were kept stocked next to the beers and popped the top off, tossing it into the little bin next to the fridge. 

“Mind if I ask why?” Stark asked, sipping on whatever it was. 

I shrugged. “I honestly don’t like it. It dulls the senses and I’ve genuinely never had an alcoholic drink that tastes good. Besides, I feel like I’ve had enough alcohol to last me the rest of my life.”

“Are the cows names just numbers?” The dark red-head blurts out as I was sitting down. 

I took a sip of my drink and tried to piece together the best way to explain to her that I knew how. 

“Technically yes, we have three-hundred and seventy-nine cows in our herd, we can’t really give them all names. Well, the older ones, the ones past twenty, yes we name, but we also retire them.” 

“Just because they can’t breed?” 

“Yes and no, they are old enough and have had at a minimum of three calves, so I see no reason to have them out with the bulls where they could potentially get pregnant again and miscarry, or end up dying during labor. Or, if they resist the bulls, the bulls will attack them. Occasionally, if I have an orphan calf or if I am given one, I give it to the older ones because they know how to care for them.”

“Giving them a chance at motherhood again without the pain of pregnancy or the dangers of giving birth.” Lauren adds on, raising her mug to me. 

“Exactly. I try my best to look after them. If an animal’s well-being is ever called into question, especially if it has to do with how they could live the rest of their life in pain, I do everything I can to make sure that animal will not be in pain even if it means relentless vet visits or having to euthanize so they can have a chance of being free from the pain. And trust me, I hate it. But it is necessary.”

“You definitely sound like you’ve been doing this for a long time. Where on earth do you get the money for the vet visits though? I imagine with all of the animals you have the bills are ridiculous.” 

“I know a couple people, and I do the occasional mission to help fund the farm if needed. However, that's only when Clint or Nat are on leave.” 

“Why?” 

“I’d rather not leave my family without someone who knows how to protect them. That and someone who knows how to manage the farm when they’re gone.”

“Even then, I rely on the girls more than anything when it’s just me here. The cows have a particular…fondness for me.” Natasha spoke over her cup of juice. 

I chuckled. “They know a good soul when one’s around, I don’t blame em’ for gathering around you.” 

“Not when they leave their calves with me! I don’t know what to do with baby cows!”

[mittensmorgul]

2024 in Mittens Fic

It’s once again time for the annual accounting of things I have written! This year's stats are pretty deceptive, since i posted over 266k words to ao3 across five works. Unfortunately one of them is my SPNGeorg podcast notes (which i've all but abandoned for now, also unfortunately... unless you're excited that this means my brain wants to focus on writing fic more than podcast notes...) hopefully that bodes well for 2025 (for which I already have 42k written that will post in this year's upcoming pinefest!)

SO. If you take away the podcast notes, at over 180k... this has been my smallest fic year ever, at 85,721 words posted.

For reference, past year end summaries can be found here:

2023 | 2022 | 2021 | 2020 | 2019 | 2018 | 2017 | 2016 | the closest thing I have to a 2015 wrap up post is the lil bit of text at the bottom of 2016′s post… even though my two most popular fics were from 2015 lololol

Ignoring the SPNGeorg podcast notes, that still leaves me with FOUR posted fics from this year, which is way better than none! :D

First up was my Dean/Cas Pinefest fic, Given to Fly (60,952 words, rated E) (and while you're there, check out all the other incredible Pinefest 2024 works!). It's a modern AU, with Dean and Cas in the Navy and a very season seven vibe (in case you enjoy watching Dick Roman get his comeuppance in addition to destiel pining).

Next up was a fic I started with the intention of submitting to the DCBB but yet again missed the draft deadline. Loose Ends (20,763 words, rated T) is technically part 3 of my Evergreen series that began with one working part back in 2023, but can be read as a standalone. It's a post-Chuck world, Dean and Cas are together, and a fairy case leads them down a rabbit hole of fanfiction of Chuck's Supernatural series, and some major revelations about their own past.

(almost entirely) Sweet Sixteenth (982 words, rated T) is a short and sweet destielversary fic, also loosely set in the Evergreen 'verse. A camping trip goes very wrong.

Merry Beachmas (3024 words, rated T) is also set in Evergreen, my annual holiday fic. Wherein the entire gang decides that since Chuck is gone, they need to start making up their own holidays to celebrate. Once again, things go slightly awry. (and if you're still in a holly jolly mood and just want more destiel holiday fluff, i now have a decade worth of it right here)

And that's it for this year! Sadly! But again, I already have nearly half of this year's total ready to go for next year, so hopefully there will be much, much more to come!

I'd really better get on that, because my To Be Written list has continued to grow despite my best efforts to actually corral the thing...

Thanks again to everyone who’s read, kudos’ed, commented, reblogged, liked, rec’ed, and enjoyed anything I’ve written in the last year. I love you all. <3 See you in 2025!

[victoria-daydreams]

A Time for Us

AN: This story is pure self indulgence for me, but if you enjoy it that's wonderful as well! Like, I took the minorest side character who probably has five speaking lines and created a whole backstory involving him and my OC. This has been sitting in my drafts for so long and I need to clear them out.

Summary: Invitations to the Thannedd Ball were sent to all mages across The Continent, even to the likes of an outcast within the Brotherhood of Sorcerers.

Part I: Home Is Not Where the Heart Is

Nearly 50 years ago, Varrine made a promise to herself to never return. Tonight, she broke it. The first time she had walked these halls, she was but a mere novice coming in to her own powers. The last, she resigned from her position as a teacher.

"Stop your fidgeting!" Varrine scolded herself. "The moment you enter, all eyes will be upon you,"

Forcing her hands apart from their fiddling, she willed them to her sides and lifted her head. The light from the ballroom spilled into the dim vestibule where she concealed herself. Freely, music and banter danced on the breeze, floating right into her slightly pointed ears. Without having to look, Varrine knew that Yennefer of Vengerberg had seemingly invited every mage in the Northern Kingdoms. The thought made her toes curl.

"Breathe, breathe," Varrine chanted quietly, her fingers curling into fists.

Breathe, to calm the coiling anxiety clawing up from the pit of her stomach. The uneasy sensation sprouted to her ribs, then her lungs, and finally her throat. Breathe, to slow her fickle, half human heart. There's a tremble in her soul, but an ounce of pride swells within her.

"You have nothing to apologize for," she whispered, unfurling her fingers.

Letting out a huff, she felt her confidence build step by step as she strode to doorway of the ballroom. Her heels clicked against the tile, echoing through the empty dark corridor she had walked so many times before. With her back rigidly straight, shoulders squared, and chin held high, Varrine entered into the grand hall. Instantly, she was greeted by the gentle sounds of light music playing and hundreds of mages making small talk with one another. Varrine's breath was stripped away from her, she had forgotten the sheer magnificence Aretuza was capable of when it came time for special ceremonies.

Hundreds of flickering flames illuminated the vast space while a large circlet of fire loomed above the ballroom, lighting up the night sky. Large tapestries hung from the walls, ornately embroidered with patterns. The finest wine was served in goblets which never remained empty for long and the most decadent food displayed on silver plates occupied every inch of table space as possible.

Varrine moved deeper into the room at an easy pace, not hurried, nor meandering. She could feel the weighted and calculated glances of her fellow mages as she walked in their direction. They flashed excessively polite smiles at her, but once she passed the whispering began. Turning around was unnecessary, for those friendly smiles instantly morphed into scowls of distaste and suspicious glares. Those present would never fail to remind her of what she was. To humans, she was not a human. To elves, she was not an elf—just a reminder of how far their species had fallen.

Things had remained the same since she was but a young girl, it would seem. How easy of a reminder it was as to why she left in the first place. She had always hated the politicking and gossiping that was intertwined with mages. Feigning indifference, Varinne skillfully plucked a goblet of wine from a passing servant while moving through the room, the skirt of her dress flowing smoothly behind her. She greeted each of her colleagues with a nod, even catching the violet irises of Yennefer who was hanging on the arm of her witcher. The two raised their goblets to each other as Yennefer leaned over to the man, whispering in his ear.

Yennefer and the witcher shared a glance with each other before the white-haired man's yellow eyes flickered over to hers, with a cautious and suspecting stare. Regarding him coolly, Varrine brought her goblet to her lips and turned her back to him. The whispers persisted and Varrine found herself wishing she could flee Aretuza altogether. Glancing around the room for an escape, her eyes unexpectedly met the steely gaze of Tissaia de Vries', who returned her stare evenly.

"You think shrinking yourself will lessen these girls hatred of you?"

"Maybe,"

"Stupid girl!" Tissaia hissed. "They will despise you more, they'll think you're pitying them. And the last thing those girls want is pity from a half-elf,"

Varrine downed the rest of her drink in one swig and casually moved towards her, snatching up another as she went. Poised with confidence only afforded to the Rectoress of Aretuza, Tissaia was immaculately dressed. Her dark hair was swept flawlessly into an elegant updo. and was dressed in a dark green gown richly embellished with a golden pattern.

"Tissaia," Varrine greeted, slightly dipping her head at her old mentor.

"Varinne, how glad I am to see you," Tissaia said warmly, reaching out and gently touching her arm. "It’s been too long," she added, giving her bicep a squeeze.

"It has," Varrine agreed, mirroring her mentor's smile.

"Might I say, you look lovely dear," Tissaia complimented, giving her a once-over.

Dressed in a smooth, velvet gown resembling the night sky, Varrine's lace bodice clung to her like a second skin. The straps hung off her shoulders, leaving her neckline exposed giving the tease they might slip off at any moment. To complete her look for the evening, a portion of her hair was styled in tight, twisted buns while the rest hung freely down her back, showing off the garnet earrings and the matching amulet fastened around her neck.

"Is there a certain mage you are hoping to see here tonight?" Tissaia wondered, a teasing lilt in her voice.

"Tissaia," Varrine groaned, with exasperation but smile crept on her face.

"Varrine Darsa," a male voice said, causing her to look over her shoulder and spot a man dressed in black and red robes.

"Vilgefortz," she thought.

The two had met only a handful of times, but he never displayed any outright malice or hostility towards her compared to other members of The Brotherhood.

"Vilgefortz," Varrine greeted, her eyes following him as went to stand beside by Tissaia.

"It is great to see you Varrine, as always," he said, with a brilliant smile contrasting brilliantly with his tawny skin. "How rare it is to see you among us," he remarked, his hand coming to casually rest on Tissaia's back.

Varrine could barely control the slight quirk that arose at her brow from the action.

"Intentionally so," she responded bluntly. "Besides, my duties as resident mage keep me plenty busy," she informed. "I rarely have time to leave the town," she added, before raising her glass to her lips.

"Fortunately, tonight is one of those times," Tissaia said. "Should you grow tired of where you are, know that the doors of Aretuza will always be open to you Varrine, despite everything that has happened," she mentioned. "Margarita will be delighted to have you apart of staff again," she added.

"Margarita?" Varinne echoed, interest coloring her features. "You're no longer the rectoress, Tissaia?" she asked, genuine surprise on her face.

"I'm not," Tissaia answered, shaking her head. "This happened fairly recent, do not feel guilty for not knowing," she reassured.

"I never thought I’d see the day where Tissaia de Vries would no longer hold the title of rectoress," Varrine commented, a hint of teasing behind her words.

Tissaia smiled, "All things come to an end,"

"Hmm, why do I sense an underlying meaning from that?" Varrine noted, with a chuckle.

"It's as Tissaia said before," Vilgefortz chimed in. "Aretuza and Margarita would be happy to have you on board once more as a teacher," he said. "In such unsettling times, it’s best fellow mages stick together," he urged.

"While that is very pleasing to hear," Varrine," began. "I fear not all share the same sentiment," she mentioned, her eyes idly sweeping across the room. "Too much bad blood has been shed already," she remarked grimly.

Inadvertently, her eyes settled on Stregobor and the small grin she allowed to flourish on her lips shrunk. Stregbor's expression transformed into what she could only describe as unabashed smugness. Maintaining eye contact with Varrine, he leaned over to whisper something to Artorius, who nodded in response. Instantly, the warmth Varrine allowed herself to feel was sucked out of the room, once again replaced with coldness and the overarching feeling of unwelcome.

"I've taken too much of your time, Tissaia," Varrine stated, still feeling Stregobor's eyes boring into the back of her.

"Varrine—" Tissaia began.

"Enjoy the party, excuse me," Varrine said hastily, before brushing past her mentor.

~~~x~~~

Tucked away amongst the columns, Varrine surveyed the ballroom from her vantage point on the balcony. She stood apart from everyone, wondering for the hundredth time what she was doing here. Sipping at the wine she held, a frown marred her features, mentally noting her fellow mages kept their distance. Though their stares told her everything she needed to know, none seemed inclined to openly disparage her.

"Foolish, foolish woman," Varrine chided herself, bitterly chuckling.

Nothing good was going to come of this. Voluntarily inserting herself back into this environment was misguided idea in the first place. To think bygones could be bygones, an entirely ridiculous notion. She was a fool to get involved, never mind agreeing to attend this ball. Her presence is just as unwanted as the day she first step foot in these halls. Varrine couldn't believe Yennefer would think it smart to invite her here, with everything going on involving the elves. Did the sorceress truly not care what people thought?

"So the whispers are true," a soft spoken voice said, feeling warmth behind her.

"That voice…"

The body wasn't touching hers, but they were a hair's breadth away. She knew this warmth. She knew their smell. They all brought back memories, good and bad ones. Like a tidal wave crashing upon the shore, they rushed through Varrine's mind.

Gentle words and caresses and soft touches. Light kisses to her mouth, her eyes, the tips of her fingers, every inch of her skin that he could reach.

"Must you go?" he asked, leaving a chaste kiss on her lips before moving down to nip at her jaw. "I just got my hands on you," he whispered, his breath tickling her ear before kissing down her neck.

The heady delight of his touch, his fingers grazing against her smooth as he slid them down her legs.

With a gasp, Varrine spun around raising her head to face the tall, slim figure of her friend for many years and her lover for many more. He had loved her more deeply and intensely than she could have ever hoped.

"Radcliffe," she breathed, her eyes roving over his face.

Just as pleasing to the eye the day they first met, Radcliffe's head of dark brown hair was neatly combed back, allowing Varrine to fully view his face. How she wanted to wrap her arms around her lover's neck, rest her head on his chest, lay kisses on his body. But, it was too soon, much too soon.

"Varrine," he greeted, staring at her as many emotions played across his features. There was relief and fear, hope and anger, joy and bitterness. "I'm glad you're here, it's been too long," he stated, a strained smile stretching across his lips.

"20 years to be exact," she recalled, handing her drink off onto a passing servant's tray.

"You look well," Radcliffe complimented, his eyes flitting over her figure.

A dry laugh left her, "Yes, well some days I certainly don’t feel it," Varrine admitted, resting her palm against her stomach. "The current state of the Continent weighs heavily upon me," she said, weariness creeping into her voice. "I fear even the small town under my protection will be crushed under its weight," she exhaled.

"A fear shared by many—"

"No!" Varrine cut in sharply, her eyes narrowing. "This weight I speak of, only a few are burdened with it since birth," she said, swallowing thickly. "Murdered for it," she stressed.

"Trouble tonight?" Radcliffe questioned, frowning noticeably.

"My presence alone is trouble, it stalks me like my own shadow does," she answered. "Thanks to Francesca Findabair allying with Nilfgaard, every elf now has a larger target on their back," she said. "We're all Nilfgaardian spies or Scoatiel," she noted bitterly.

Allowing their conversation to lull, Varrine shifted her body to face the railing that overlooked the ballroom. Her fingers wrapped themselves around the bar, observing and listening to the mages below. The raucous laughter of men and the chatter and gossip of the women remained ever present.

"Varrine," Radcliffe called, and she turned her head in his direction. "Why didn't you join us at Sodden Hill?" he asked, moving closer to her.

"I believe The Brotherhood had already met its elven quota with Yennefer," Varrine quipped, with a smirk.

"I'm being serious, Varrine,"

"As am I," she said, her smile fading. "It wasn't my battle to fight," she argued simply.

Radcliffe's gaze flickered across Varrine's face excepting to see a flicker of playfulness, some indication that she was just joking, but there was none to be found.

"Good gods, you truly believe that," he breathed in realization. "How was it not your battle to fight?" he questioned, the blue of his irises hardening. "Nilfgaard threatens us all," he pointed out, his brows knitting together.

"Tell me how Nilfgaard is any worse than the Northern Kingdoms," Varrine challenged, keeping her voice low.

"Nilfgaard keeps their mages on a short leash,"

"Nilfgaard treats elves with dignity,"

"Careful, Varrine," Radcliffe warned, his eyes narrowing. "You sound dangerously close to a Nilfgaardian sympathizer," he murmured.

"I'm aware Radcliffe," Varrine admitted, an iciness in her tone. "Honestly, why is it of import why I didn't fight. Plenty mages belonging to the Brotherhood didn't, so why am I being singled out?" she pressed, anger rising within her.

"Because of who you are!" Radcliffe hissed. "Some mages can afford the stance of neutrality, you are not one of them Varrine,"

She snorted, "And if I did make the journey to Sodden, then what?" she wondered. "The Northern Armies win, only for The Brotherhood to question my allegiances right after?" Varrine asked, a sardonic laugh leaving her. "Look at what they did to Yennefer, the 'Hero of Sodden'. She only has a quarter of elven blood, and that was enough for them to vilify her," she reminded, a sardonic chuckle bubbling past her lips.

"You forget, she did herself no favors by failing to execute a Nilfgaardian General to prove her loyalty to The North," he countered easily.

"And you truly think that would’ve been enough to satisfy them, Radcliffe?" Varrine questioned, scoffing at the thought. "If it were I in that predicament, do you honestly believe it would only take a meaningless execution to put doubts over my allegiance to bed?" she wondered. "It wouldn’t matter if I joined or not, the end result would always remain the same. Me, losing," she insisted, a shadow falling across her face.

An uncomfortable, weighty silence quickly descended upon them following her words. Unconsciously, Varrine's grip around the cool railing had tightened while pointedly focusing her attention below. The soft string melodies trickled out from within the ballroom in muted undertones beneath layers of animated conversations and laughter. With every second that passed, the silence stretching between Varrine and Radcliffe grew to be almost near suffocating. It was in this moment, when the tension between them was almost cuttable, the feeling of a warm, soft hand rest on top of Varrine's.

She inhaled sharply in surprise, almost leaping out of her skin. Varrine's gaze dropped to her hand, watching him interlace their fingers as he softly exhaled a gale-like breath.

"I would've defended you," Radcliffe vowed, "I will always defend you," he amended, seemingly lost in his thoughts. "Until I have no more breath to give," he finished softly, running his thumb across her knuckles

Their eyes met again, the mood brightening, if only a little.

"There was never a doubt you wouldn’t," Varrine acknowledged, briefly glancing down at their interlocked fingers. "You're loyal to a fault, Radcliffe," she said, keeping her voice low to match his. "For better or worse," she added returning her stare back to him.

Radcliffe shifted his weight from the rail, pushing himself up to his full height. Hesitantly, he reached his hand out, letting his fingers graze down her cheek. Varrine's breath caught itself in her throat, his warm fingertips evoking some kind of a tickle.

"You don’t know how relieved I was to hear that you weren't one of the casualties at the battle," she whispered, nuzzling her cheek against his palm.

"And yet you still didn't write me?" Radcliffe whispered back.

"I feared my letter would've been read by eyes that weren't yours," she explained. "Private correspondence is not private during times of war. You would be forced to answer questions about me that you shouldn't have to," Varrine said.

"Stregobor and Artorius could nag me until they were blue in the face," Radcliffe joked, reaching down to enclose his hand around Varrine's. "I wouldn't have uttered a word about you," he promised, locking his eyes with hers before lifting her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her knuckles tenderly.

"My noble Radcliffe," Varrine smiled.

"Varrine," he began. "Once this conclave business is over, I can put a good word in for you with the council," Radcliffe suggested, causing Varrine's face to immediately contort in disgust and abruptly snatch her hand away from his as if she'd been burned, an action which visibly hurt him.

"I do not need your 'good word', Radcliffe," Varrine hissed, glaring at him fiercely. "For I have done nothing wrong, it was I who was wronged by the council, not the other way around!" she spat.

"It was not my intention to upset you, Varrine. I—"

Whatever Radcliffe was going to say was cut short by the clicking of heeled shoes rapidly approaching them. Joining them in the secluded corridor was none other than Sabrina of Glessving, her pink lips curled up into a smirk which Varrine had always found to be insufferable.

Sabrina remained flawless as Varrine remembered her to be, her shiny, sleek blonde locks draped over her shoulder in waves adorned bejeweled hair pins. Her hair complimented the figure hugging, shimmery gown she was clad in; it showed off Sabrina's prized assets and left nothing to the imagination.

"Well, isn't this adorable," Sabrina cooed, her voice dripping with honey. "Ex-lovers reunited, at a ball no less," she continued, waltzing over to Radcliffe and wrapping her slender arms around him with familiarity.

Sabrina's blue eyes flitted over to Varrine, sending waves of fury through her body. A million questions whirled around in Varrine's head, each one battling for dominance to leave her mouth. She struggled in silence, betrayal and jealousy tugging at her heart while her nose burned with the tears she was holding back.

"Varinne, it's not what you—"

"You wouldn't mind if I borrowed Radcliffe from you, Little Elf?" she asked, purposefully pressing her already half exposed bosom against him. "You aren't the only one who wants to speak with dear Radcliffe here," she added, walking her fingers up his chest in an seductive manner.

Cold anguish filled Varrine, leaving a searing pain in her chest. Glancing at Radcliffe once more, he made no move to untangle himself from Sabrina, only staring back her in torn silence.

A bitter smile crept onto he face, "He's all yours," Varrine said, her voice reduced to a whisper.

[motherstone]

Kazu Kibuishi nearly died while making ‘Amulet.’ Two decades later, he’s completed it. – Orange County Register (ocregister.com)

A passage from the article:

But in the decade since his recovery, Kibuishi says he still feels the effects.

“It changed my life, for sure. That’s part of the reason why I can’t write as fast as I used to. I can definitely draw just as quickly; that’s just motor skill. But writing is really what takes the most time,” he says, adding his memory has been affected – sometimes he’d finish a page only to realize he’d already drawn it before. “There are certain obstacles and hurdles I have to get over. I don’t want to use it as an excuse but … I have set a standard with my former self that is very hard for this brain to match.”

Kibuishi’s memory came up when I mention an earlier meeting we’d had. Years ago, not long after he’d recovered, I’d reached out to tell him how much my family enjoyed his books and Kibuishi had invited us to visit his Bolt City Productions studio in Alhambra. While a memorable event for us, Kibuishi says he can’t remember much from that period.

“That time in my life, I just have to accept that I was a bit of an amnesiac. There’s like a crater in my memory,” he says. “I don’t know if I’ll ever fully recover from it, but I manage well, I think, despite all of that.”

That explains why Amulet turned out the way it did. I deeply regret the harsher points of my criticisms, but my points about flaws of the series still stand.

On one thing, I presumed that his injury may have played a factor, something that severe especially in the brain is not something you would 100% recover from. On the other hand, I thought it is pretty wrong to speculate or assume further about Kazu’s medical history because that’s ultimately his business to divulge or not.

So I assumed it was arrogance. I assumed that since he’s secured a good number of loyal readers, he’s just putting whatever because a.) he’s done with Amulet, and b.) people would read his books either way, so why bother with quality? Which is not only extremely bad faith of me, but also deeply insulting to Kazu as an artist. To which I am regretful, and I do apologize. He really just can’t remember. The Amulet we started with isn’t the Amulet we ended with.

That also explains his process. He’s made around 1000 draft pages for book 9, then pick and discard what he wanted to keep and honestly, I’m pretty sure someone with a direction for their story wouldn’t have such ramblings that would take 1000 pages (I myself who also draws a lot wouldn’t make that high of a number), the process overall was just yonkers. But for someone with a spotty memory… That’s probably the best method he could come up with.

But in all honesty, reading this article gave me an overwhelming sense of peace. I could live with Kazu’s reasons if it was because he’s done with Amulet, or if it was because of executive meddling, or if it was for medical reasons. Mostly because these are all problems that can be fixed. A better project, a better employer, a better work schedule, better accommodations. I still think the writing is awful and declined badly, but I’m more relieved that it isn’t because Kazu no longer cares or values his work. Ultimately, he genuinely did the best he could.